The Ladies' Home Journal 1920-04: Vol 37

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| aA 3H r L A D ; bk . | : | a | | | F J # ® | IN, x g ue FROM A PAINTING BY EDNA COOKE APRIL 1920 THE CURTIS PUBLISHING COMPANY PHILADELPHIA 15 CENTS “ens

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Vf , Old Dutch Cleanser quickly removes all dirt and also the unhealthiness that goes with it. Free from dangerous caustics and acids, it is safe and sani- tary for sinks, floors, walls, cooking utensils, ete.

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D. ‘ bes A Fr L A E, S FROM A PAINTING BY EDNA COOKE APRIL 1920 THE CURTIS PUBLISHING COMPANY PHILADELPHIA 15 CENTS “3 as°

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“Thats [tlhe Breakfast food of The Nation” Painted by Edward V. Brewer for Cream of Wheat Company Copyright 1920 by Cream of Wheat Company ee r.* TS GE Se ‘a. f

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April, 1920

TOE CORES

to insure

A Special Word to Subscribers HEN you receive notice that your subscription has expired renew it at once, using the blank inclosed in your final copy. Please sign your name exactly as it appears on your present address label. A request for change of address must reach us at least 5 weeks before the date of the issue with which it is to take effect. Duplicate copies cannot be sent to replace A THE CURTIS those undelivered through failure to send this advance 2 PUB L notice. Be sure to give your old address as well as the ISH ING new one. COMPANY Should as : 4 — INDEPENDENCE SQUARE ould your subscription expire with this issue of the PHILADELPHIA. PENNSYLVANIA HOME JOURNAL your renewal should be sent promptly month. We cannot begin subscriptions with back num- bers. Subscribers should always use Postal or Express money orders or Bank drafts in remitting. All Rural y Free Delivery carriers can supply Postal money orders. eo

T & Incorporating The Home Journal % Registered in the United States Patent Office PUBLISHED ON THE FIRST DAY OF EACH MONTH BY

receipt of the May issue on the first of the

L AD I HOME JOURNA | : THE FAMILY MAGAZINE OF AMERICA

EDITED BY H:O-DAVIS MARK SKINNER WATSON, MANAGING EDITOR Copyright, 1920 (Trade-mark registered), by The Curtis Publishing Company, in the United States and Great Britain. London Offices, 6, Henrietta Street, Covent Garden, W.C. All rights reserved. Entered as second-class matter May 6, 1911, at the Post Office at Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, under Act of March 3, 1879.

.* The Price of The Home Journal UBLISHED once a month. 15 cents the copy from all newsdealers. By subscription. To the United States and Possessions, including Cuba and Mexico, $1.75 the year, remittances to be by U.S. money order or by draft CYRUS H:K: CURTIS PRESIDENT : , payable in U. S. funds on a bank in the U.S. C:H-LUDINGTON To Canada, by subscription, $2.50 the year. Single TREASURER copies, 25 cents. To Foreign Countries in the Postal Union, by sub- scription, postpaid, $3 the year, remittance to be by draft payable in U.S. funds on a bank in the U.S. Our Advertising Branch Offices {For advertising business only. Subscriptions not received. ] New York: Madison Avenue and 23d Street BosTon: Merchants’ National Bank Building CHICAGO: Home Insurance Building SAN FRANCISCO: First National Bank Building Lonpon: 6, Henrietta Street, Covent Garden, W.C. PHILIP S:COLLINS c GENERAL BUSINESS MANAGER WALTER D-FULLER SECRETARY WILLIAM BOYD ADVERTISING DIRECTOR

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HOME JOURNAL Running Hot Water or the Old Copper Kettle: | gel as instantaneous hot water shortens the prepara- tions for household tasks, so P. AND G.—The White Naphtha Soap shortens the actwa/ work. This new-idea soap washes, cleans and scrubs better, faster and easier because it 1s better soap, made of better materials. It combines the best qualities of high-grade white laundry soap and dirt-moving naphtha soap. It works with a speed that leaves you more leisure avd strength to enjoy tt. You'll like its whiteness, its clean odor, its thick lather. You'll like the shining cleanliness that follows its use. Try it—and see how much it shortens your day’s work. Not merely a white laundry soap; Not merely a naphtha soap; But the best features of both, combined. - WHITE April, 1920 Ap

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April, 1920 HOME JOURNAL Some of the Striking Features = In the May Issue of The Ladies’ Home Journal 7, vt FT In “THE GAME CALLED LIFE,” by Peter Clark Macfarlane, “All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players.”. Like other games, there are rules for this one. “THE HOUSEWARMING,” by Meredith Nicholson. Moral courage—a girl who had it—and a man who lacked it. - “WHEN THE DESERT CALLS,” by Donald McGibeny? The story of a boy and a girl who wanted to come back—of a man of God who understood and of a woman who did not. _ “THE MAKER OF IMAGES,” by C. L. Edholm. Riches and worldly success came to this boy, but he lost his soul. “ALIENS,” by Harold Titus. The solitude of the far — does something—to men and to beasts. Nerves break, and the man’s broke first. “ALMA MATER’S STEPSON,” by Svetozar Tonjoroff. A lone hand plays a losing hand; every player must play for the team. “DANCING SHOES,” by Lyle Cook. “When you’re in love, if the girl doesn’t love you, play some big whim of hers, play it strong. If it’s money, play money —but make each gift count.” “HOME,” by Ralph E. Mooney. What took place in the fifth house from the corner. “ANCESTORS,” by Charles Chadwick. The story of an old house, a dead-and-gone pirate and a broken promise. “CONGRESS AS A FIRST AID TO HOUSEWIVES,” by Rose Young. An intimate glimpse of Washington. “EVERYMAN’S CHILD.” Sophie Irene Loeb’s new article on the work of making citizens and averting trouble. “Why We Get Fat and What to Do About It” By Dr. William S. Sadler and Dr. Lena K. Sadler. You who are “fair, fat and forty”—and even you who ate not—will be interested in this first of a series of articles on dietetics. “THE WOMAN VOTER AND THE GRAND OLD PARTIES,” by Esther Everett Lape. The coming campaign. “SHOULD A GIRL GO ON THE STAGE?” Gertrude Linnell’s instructive answer to an unending question. “AMERICA’S NEW DECLARATION OF INDEPEND.- ENCE,” by Henrietta Straus. Memorial Day music. “CUPID ADVERTISES.” Edith Davids tells more about Alaskan bachelors. And an Alaskan shouts for help! “ONE GIRL’S IDEAS ON THE CLOTHES PROBLEM,” by Gertrude Sheppard. The H. C. L. doesn’t worry her. “MONEYMANIAS,” by Genevieve Parkhurst. Some of the ways in which money should not be spent, but is. “A SUCCESSFUL EXPERIMENT IN COOPERATIVE HOUSEKEEPING.” You did not know of appetizing 21- cent meals? Louise Wallace Hackney knows 140 girls who do. “SUMMER HOMES IN NATIONAL FORESTS.” Ten to one you didn’t know you could camp in our national forests. Theodore M. Fisher tells how you can have a novel vacation. “OFF FOR YOUR FIRST TRIP TO EUROPE.” Is that what you are planning this summer? Well, then, don’t miss read- ing the helpfal Thinto Bertha B. Streeter can give you. MAY FASHIONS, by Harry Collins. The Bride and Her Dresses. yt. = FF s Mary Roberts Rinehart’s “A Poor Wise Man” The greatest of her dramatic novels and probably the most powerful story of contemporary American life which has appeared in recent years. Having started it, you will finish it. The second installment will appear next month. OTHER IMPORTANT SERIALS IN THE MAY NUMBER WILL BE: “THE MORETON MYSTERY,” by Elizabeth Dejeans—the enthralling mystery which is now running. “THEY WHO WALK IN DARKNESS,” by Frederick Orin Bartlett—the current serial, which ends in June. AND 20 OTHER IMPORTANT FEATURES , *¢ & Y ££ F ANOTHER 224-PAGE ISSUE The May Number of The Ladies’ Home “fournal

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————————————— HOME JOURNAL April, 1920 IMEVILLE FOL By N. A. Lufburrow OSH SIMPKINS claims that Archie Smite has walloped him and trimmed him right by selling him a motor cart that will not be induced to start. He’s coaxed the old machine a week and yet the engine does not speak, excepting to emit a sneeze or mayhap give a sickly wheeze. Smite still insists it used to run and go off like a Gatling gun, while Simpkins says he’d like to bet the wreck has never started yet. It hasn’t done Gosh any harm except to bust him, break his arm, teach him a lesson, get him mad and kill what self-respect he had. He now admits it is his plan to lose this junk heap if he can, but knows there’ll be the deuce to pay because of what his wife will say. ° For Mrs. Simpkins, facts disclose, had asked of Gosh some winter clothes, while he himself appeared to feel more partial to a gasmobile. And now it’s natural to fear that some calamity is near, for Archie Smite has all the cash and Simpkins owns a pile of trash. bee HAWKINS’ daughter, Susie May, was married just the other day, and says, as far as profit goes, the gifts she got were curios. She tenders thanks, but wonders why, since folks wére so disposed to buy, they Susie May didn’t any of them choose to give her some- thing she could use. IM GLOOM says these are striking days, and wonders how ’twould hit us if all our wives should get the craze and go on strike and quit us. I PERKINS says there is no sense in all this profiteering, and wants the days of less expense to soon be reappearing. He swears he won’t be made to pay the rates that are prevailing, though all the present prices stay till he is old and ail- ing. Si vows he’d rather take his chance and hungry go and meatless, and wear his Sunday coat and pants until they’re worn and seat- less. ILL PLEASANT is a cheerful chap who always keeps a smile on tap and passes out the kind of cheer that brightens up the atmosphere. It is a pleasing thing to meet a man like Bill upon the street, who never fails by night or day to have a pleasant word to say. The village is a better place because he wears a smiling face, which truly is a benefit to any who encounter it. Some folks there are who grouch around and utter not a cheerful sound, but cultivate the shriveled heart in which good feeling has no part. These are unto themselves a bore and to their neighbors even more; they radiate but gloom and fill the world about them with a chill. In truth they may be said to be a village liability, while those who wear the smile-lit face are really assets to the place. Who follows where Bill Pleasant leads, and gives the world the cheer it needs, will have of friends a goodly pile and make his life the more worth while. AY FULLER BLOW appears to think the village will be proudest of that hot-air- inflated gink whose bragging is the loud- est. He blows of big successes won and others in the making; yet there is naught he’s ever done but to excel in faking. The foolishness of hollow talk to no one is attractive; it’s one thing to guffaw and squawk, another to be active. Folks do not honor any guy because of empty cackling; they like to get their weather eye upon the jobs he’s tackling. It’s hoped that Blow may yet see fit to give his tongue an airing; reduce his talk and do a bit of common-sense repairing. OSH HARDHIT surely has it bad; he wears a visage long and sad, for, as it’s told about the town, Ophelia Smirk has turned him down. It’s further said that Jasper Flye is sched- uled as the lucky guy that draws Ophelia for a wife to eat his breakfast with for life. And thus the whole affair is changed; for gossip had it all arranged that Hardhit was endowed by fate to be Ophelia’s running mate. But she would have a man with cash cnough to make a social splash, and, since poor Josh was short of it, she handed him the icy mitt. Old Eric Wisehead has opined that if Josh Hardhit isn’t blind he ought to feel hard hit with luck because he’s had a chance to duck. HE village gossip, Mrs. Chin, whose tongue is always going, talks people deaf outside and in with her incessant crowing. She scatters scandal all about and gives it a beginning, and all the truth has oozled out e’er she is done her chinning. EN THRIFT, of local banking fame, knows every villager by name, the capi- tal that each commands, and how his cash and credit stands. He knows the relative amounts of all the village bank accounts, and how much money people get, and who is running into debt. Ben has ’em sized up pretty well and, if he were disposed to tell, could easily divulge a lot that some would rather he would not. There’s Mrs. Astorhouse de Bluff, who boasts a pile of wealth and stuff; she keeps three butlers and a maid; I wonder if her debts are paid. And Mrs. Harriman de Flares, who dwells in style and puts on airs—Il’ll bet a hat that every year her unpaid bills would choke a steer. Some may be fooled, but not Ben Thrift; he follows everybody’s drift, and forms opinions all his own to guide him when they want a loan. He is aware that A. Tightwad possesses dollars by the hod, althouglrhe never spends a cent and claims to be a busted gent. Ben also knows that Wood B. Sport was several hundred dollars short when he pro- cured the car he rides—and owes a bunch of coin besides. He keeps a line on Owen More, who runs up debts in every store, and bears in mind that Sted E. Clyme is saving money all the time. In short, he knows the ins and outs of every townsman’s cash-abouts. Let’s hope and trust he won’t go bugs and spill the confidence he lugs. It’s evident, it seems to me, that those who’d feel secure and free must watch the way their dollars drift and keep in strong with Mr. Thrift. — HE folks who heard the village band, propelled by Phil Harmonic, believe such playing should be canned and hope it won’t be chronic. With one accord they all agree they liked the intermissions, and think the only cure will be a set of new musicians. 16) Main &Te 16) MAIN S&T. Phil Harmonic | ieee night Al Mayor made a speech to plead for reélection, and swear he’d make the town a peach and rule it to per- fection. The village hall was jammed with folks when Justice Amos Musty announced the speaker with some jokes that were extinct and rusty. It seems the local band was out—but recently created—and spilled some sour notes about, of music mutilated. The noise the players made was punk and very wild and awful; it sounded like a bunch of junk or something else unlawful. So much that when the mayor rose to institute his stumping the sweat was rolling off his nose and all his nerves were jump- ing. He got so fussed his thoughts eloped and very nearly ‘wrecked him; he could but mutter that he hoped the town would reclect him. Al now admits the speech he wrote was great and few could beat it, but much regrets he lost his goat and couldn’t quite repeat it. OME folks go dippy over fads. Now there is Mrs. Lotta Glads—she has to wear the latest style, though oft her rigs make others smile. She buys the garbs she thinks are swell instead of those that suit her well; and, though they look like thirty cents, believes these garbs to be immense. Mrs. Lotta Glads She falls for all the fads that come, and wouldn’t balk, it’s thought by some, at anything from concrete sleeves to bonnets trimmed with cabbage leaves. OB SQUAREDEAL is as square a man as ever lived among us; he keeps his con- science spick-and-span and never yet has stung us. Of all the dealers on the block he is su- premely trusted; folks like to purchase from his stock and never get disgusted. His store has earned the town’s esteem by years of honest dealing; the buyers enter in a stream and leave with all good feeling. Says he: “I make it my concern to deal in business squarely, and get the money that I earn by treating people fairly. “Tt costs me nothing, pays me well and brings me satisfaction; what joy there is I cannot tell in any dark transaction.” Thus Squaredeal, it is plain ta see, has built his reputation upon the rock of hon- esty, which is a good foundation. To deal in fairness is a plan that everyone should sample, and he’s a wise and trusted man who follows Job’s example. EXTRA T COMES to light that Hiram Swett went out last night to dinner and pulled a breach of etiquette that was indeed a win- ner. He sneezed and choked in one fell swoop and filled the guests with terror, and dropped his false teeth in the soup, which was a social error. His wife acclaims she’s quite upset be- cause of Hiram’s manners, and says of all the boobs she’s met he carries off the banners.

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April, 1920 HOME JOURNAL ’

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HOME JOURNAL

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T H E i. HOME JOURNAL THE FAMILY MAGAZINE OF_AMERICA VOLUME XXXVII NUMBER 4 A D1 Es PHILADELPHIA APRIL 1920 REGISTERED IN THE Unitep States Patent OFFIce By rn gina this is the promise that he hath pro a . —= =>

There Is No Death! By Evangeline Booth, Commander of the Salvation Army S/EAD! The village was dead! Shell wrecked, it lay in the hollow and along one slope of ee. a gentle, hill-rimmed valley, straddling the we Ray Narrow, dusty road with twin rows of devas- f,, “zze-| tated homes which straggled out irregularly ® kN into the surrounding untilled fields. e>$3) strange silence broods over the lonely and cheerless scene. .Ah, that is it! —The hungry guns are silent. Their four-year discord of hate and murder, crash- ing through its final fortissimo movement into a concert of destruction, is ended. Patches of dull-red tile from riven roofs show here and there—like the clotted blood of slain beasts—among the tortured ruin of fallen walls and fire-twisted girders. Whirli- gigs of gray dust eddy lazily between the uncovered graves, as though making a fitful and melancholy attempt to infold again the rudely disinterred dead of the centuries- old graveyard—war knows no sacred ground—while a splintered wooden crucifix hangs loosely on the weirdly torn walls where twenty generations of peaceful villagers have worshiped the Prince of Peace. From the hilltop all seems dead—-dead with the cold and rigid death of a thousand neglectful years! Not one breath of life in the dreary and devastated village! But the sweet spring breeze, blowing warmly up from the south, gently whispers: “I am the life renewer, the harbinger of happy summer days, the herald of fruitful harvests, the call of animation to a myriad of throbbing liv- ing things in land, in hill, in dale. Man, thou art a fool! “THERE IS NO DEATH!”

HROUGH the village ripples a singing streamlet, swollen into a current of leaping and laughing gold. In strange little inlets, which once were ugly shell craters, it swirls and then sweeps on to wash with delicate fingers the fallen masonry and to caress into submission splintered beams that seek to stay its happy course. Where once the whirring wheels and roaring furnace of the village glass factory sang in strains of industry and prosperity, there now remains only a tumbled pile of de- molished stone, crumbled brick and rusty, tortuous iron. Hanging over the heightened stream, a broken mill wheel creaks drearily as the rising water stirs restlessly around its battered, rubbish-choked. paddles. “Dead!” grates the wheel. “Dead! The village is dead!” But the stream, newborn from the purity of mountain snows, ripples, softly singing: “Nay! I am the life-giver. I flow through the land, stirring to life the vines on the hill- sides and the grains of the fields, From my crystal arteries trees and beasts and birds and men drink and live. Wheel, thou art a fool! “THERE IS NO DEATH!” ITH her brood clinging tightly to her well-spread skirts a French peasant woman, broad of face, wrin- kled and weary with war, trudges down the winding, dusty road and into the shattered village. With strange, hard mutterings of sorrow she pausés before each empty, gaping doorway, only to pass slowly on to the next. At last she stops in front of the burned-out, fractured walls of her own home, Wearily she eases a huge bundle of blankets and miscellaneous household gear from her bent

shoulders to the sagging doorstep. Great, unavailing tears roll down her sunbrowned cheeks. She enters, delving among the debris, and brings to light splintered bits of treasured furniture, reminders of the dear, happy days be- fore the guns began their dirge of death. All is dead! Shattered! Gone! Every fond and pretty home thing loved by that peasant woman . vanished forever! She covers her face with her rough, worn hands; but there is a gurgle of delight as baby fingers reach out toward the spot where, springing out of a crevice in the tumbled wall, there flames a crimson poppy, and through tear- dimmed eyes she sees a soft carpet of moss creeping pro- tectingly over the ruined masonry; tender shoots of grass thrusting freshly up through the gray, dead dust of de- struction; and here and there and everywhere infant blos- soms, with little pink cheeks and blue eyes, looking up to the sky and curtsying fragrantly and reverently in the evening breezes. A peaceful smile like a benediction settles upon the tired mother’s face. Drawing the baby close against her breast | she whispers: “Ah, baby mine, all is not dead! While the good God can still make for you a cradle of flowers, is it not that life must live? “THERE IS NO DEATH!” IKE a golden globe sinking slowly away into eternity, the sun drops down behind the quiet hills, gilding with shafts of light three white crosses silhouetted against the purpling sky. “Dead!” say the three white crosses. “Dead!” records the war office. “Dead!” wail three broken hearts. But the glories of the passing day transmute the floating cloudlets into a group of white angels, with pinions of light, mounting a pearl-studded stairway that runs from the graves to the sky. They appear to hasten as though, in- folded in their golden arms, they carried priceless treasure to the throne. Instinctively the eyes of the peasant woman turn to the splintered crucifix, hanging lonesomely upon the rifted church wall. The last spears of light transfigure to blaz- ing jewels the thorns pressed hard upon the sacred brow. In her simple way, with wide eyes fastened upon that face, she murmurs: “All life has risen out of death! And all death is but to be made into life again! Life is immortal, though it seems to perish as the leaves. Man cannot die!” For the words came back which she heard before the little church was wrecked: “T am the Resurrection and the Life!” Oh, World, thou art fooled! “THERE IS NO DEATH!” TIKE the rustling of wind in empty places comes a sound, 4, as though sky splendor would speak in articulate voice, saying: ‘“‘ While spring breezes blow, while streams flow down to the sea, while flowers bloom in the hedges, while the sun holds its course through the skies, while God rules in His heaven, while the gates of glory stand wide, “THERE IS NO DEATH!”

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A LOOK of the COPPERLEYS | ae A A EE en PREGNANT pause followed the closing of the street door. ‘‘ Well,” said Captain Morton, “what do you make of him, Eula?” His wife smoothed her black silk lap with long, pale fingers and gave the mat- ter thought. “I don’t just exactly know,” she said at length, still in her “company voice.” “He’s out and out Salisbury, ‘cept for his hands, and they’re Peabody. He’s got the Peabody coarseness, too, and that throaty, raspin’ voice made me think of John Peabody. But every once in a while he has a look of the Copperleys.” Captain Elieu felt in his pocket for his pipe, but did not withdraw it; he knew better than to attempt the desecration of the parlor. ‘‘Why don’t we hear nothin’ from you, Araby? Impressed with yer new cousin, hey?” Arabella Morton raised great, troubled eyes to her uncle’s face. They were strange eyes, black as midnight and with something of the mystery and awe of midnight in their depths. ‘I don’t like him,’’ she said, “and yet—I do. I thought he was horrid at first, and then—he’d smile and say some little thing, and I’d change my mind.” “That’s the Copperley look’’; her aunt nodded her capped head vigorously. ‘‘ Well, he’ll manage all right, that’s one thing certain. There’s no halfway measures to that man. But if he tries bullyin’ the Portygeese he’ll be short of hands, and that’s certain too. They like an easy-goin’ boss, one that'll let ’em laugh and sing while they’re workin’. I miss my guess if Ben Salisbury will.” “He’s got Hartford written all over him,’’ observed the captain. ‘I dunno if he’ll take kindly to Thedford, even if his forbears did come from the old town. He may under- stand the canning and the exportin’ end, but he doesn’t know the fishin’. I seen that much right away.” “Saw,” said his wife reprovingly, the aura of the parlor strong about her. ‘‘Howsumever, here he is, and he’s kin, and we’ve got to show him ‘blood is thicker than water.’ I don’t just relish him somehow; but it’s the Lord’s will to make relatives queer; I dunno why. Araby, you’d better ask Cassie and Eva Preston for Sunday supper, and Mel- ville and Alonzo; they’re kin to him too.”’ She said it with resentful satisfac- ,’ HOME JOURNAL

Ben Salisbury Talked On; No, Not Ben Salisbury —The Other By Ethel Watts Mumford ILLUSTRATIONS BY HOWARD GILES, A. N. A. Else came to that window and looked out and smiled to the soul of Araby—and Araby’s soul had responded with a great glow of wondering happiness. The first time it had happened was when he had turned to her, idly including her in his answer to a question by Captain Morton. Araby had almost gasped. It was as if that look from his eyes had nothing to do with the conscious man who talked of canneries. The unknown soul had come, flashed her a private signal and was gone, replaced by the man of cans and lobster pots. She had wondered at the moment whether he had intended that look for hér. But it seemed that this was not the case. He had hardly been aware of her at all. Again, later in the visit, he had flashed that gaze of understanding, and again it had gone. Just before taking his leave, when he had clasped her hand in farewell, his clear eyes had smiled into hers. ‘“ They call you April, 1920 Araby, don’t they? I don’t wonder. Why, you look”’—his eyes seemed to picture the desert, its vastness, its light and heat, its lure and threat—“‘like a cigarette ad,” he finished; it was the man of canneries who had completed the sentence. She had flushed and murmured some- thing confusedly, grateful for her aunt’s high-pitched, company voice, picking up the thread of the remark. “Yes, Arabella is very Oriental looking,”’ her aunt hadsaid. ‘‘She’salways the Turk- ish maiden in our Church bazaars. She’s like the Edouards. It’s Canadian French blood—her grandmother, you know, not on your side of the family. Arabella and you are connected through the Mortons and the Peases.” ‘“‘ Aunt Preston’s got all that down fine,”’ Ben Salisbury answered, evidently bored by genealogy. ‘‘I don’t take much stock in this family stuff myself. A man’s pretty much what he makes himself.”’ Mrs. Morton had drawn away from his unintentional rudeness, as if taking refuge in a remote and unassailable past. ‘‘We don’t feel that way in Thedford. We have seen the results of too many generations.”’ “Oh, sure,” Salisbury answered easily. “If people stick in the mud and don’t pull out they’re set in the old ruts; but a feller that moves along and gets about makes himself —and that’s good enough for me.” RABY unfastened another hook and kicked off a suéde slipper. Howshe loathed the man’s tactlessness and self- assurance. Her flesh crawled at the thought of his pudgy hands, and yet she was still throbbing with the strange de- light of something glimpsed. She tried to tell herself that only her curiosity was roused. It seemed somehow com- forting to think it only curiosity. She slipped the blue taffeta dress over her head, shook it out, draped it on a hanger and placed it in the closet. Then, bare-armed and bare-necked, she crossed to the mahogany-framed mirror and considered her reflection. “They call you Araby. I don’t wonder. Why, you look’’—the soul had looked into her eyes; it had said many things in that look, un- explainable, _unwordable things, and then—“‘like a

tion, as if compelling the sharing of a burden by unwilling but obligated parties. She rose, crossed the flowered carpet with mincing steps, and care- fully drew down the shades at the front windows. ye captain witha sigh of relief felt again for his pipe, and Arabella mechan- ically straightened the chair in which she had been sitting to its accus- tomedangle bythe marble- top table that sturdily upheld the family albums and the astral lamp. The girandoles on the mantel tinkled faintly as the or- dered room was left to its repose. In the hall Arabella hes- itated. Outwardly calm, she was inwardly deeply stirred. She could not ac- count for it. Something about this heavy, repellent young man had set strange chords vibrating. With the excuse of changing her best frock for an everyday gingham, she sought her room. As she sat on the low-post bed, idly unhook- ing her ribbon belt, she visualized Ben Salisbury— his thickset body and full neck, his broad-fingered, fleshy hands, with angry red lines in the palms; his strong, upthrusting, black hair, and eyebrows as thick as plush—mentally she likened them to black cat- erpillars—his nose straight and wide nostriled above a lean gash of a mouth that seemed doubly cruel in that it deviated from the man’s whole type. It was as if that mouth had been taken from someone else and set in his rather round and pudgy chin. IS eyes were his one good feature. They were odd eyes, not so much in form, color or setting as in abysmal clearness. They seemed literally the “ windows of

cigarette ad./’ She saw herself as the eyes had first seemed to see her—her blue-black hair, her great black eyes, the ivory of her face ton- ing brown where it met her hair and over her long, smooth lids. There were charm and sensitiveness in her mouth, but her eyes held dreams—and few New England eyes imprison dreams. They have a way of courage, not of glamour. She analyzed herself with- out vanity. She was try- ing to see what The Look had seemed to tell her of herself. ES, she was like that. She felt suddenly for- eign in the house of her an- cestors with its mahogany furniture, and blue china in white cupboards, its consoles and trumeau mir- rors, the ornaments from China, and the South Sea shells. Alien, too, were all the family portraits that adorned the walls—Pea- bodys and Salisburys, Peases and Crawfords, Mortons and Welles; ladies with fichus and caps, hold- ing a rose or a prayer book; men in various uni- forms, many with a back- ground of gray-green water on whicha ship preened it- self togalesthat never blew, carrying flags that dwarfed even the mainsail; a frigate delivering a broadside; a whaler discovering miracu- lous islands; and a bewigged personage, who hung be- hind the door, ship and all, for he had stood true to King George and, like a bad boy, did penance out of sight of the virtuous. She felt herself utterly alien, and The Look had done it. “I don’t take much stock in this family stuff myself,’’ memory echoed his words. “A man’s what he makes himself, and that’s good enough for me.”

the soul,’’ for his personal- ity stood there, and every now and then Someone “Let These Small-Town Girls Think a Guy Has Money and They’ll Pester the Life Out of Him”

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__-_ a thrust her arms into the pink gingham sleeves of a “ work dress,”’ and sighed. She went about the invitations to Sunday supper at once. There was great interest over the arrival of Ben Salis- bury. The older people recalled his parents with this and that personal reminiscence. The younger ones had heard the gossip of his wealth, the good-for-nothing younger brother, the success of his father, the brutal reputation of his grandfather—in his day the most infamous tyrant afloat. Salisburys, Peases, Mortons and Prestons—the traits of his forbears were discussed after the manner of small, close communities where every family has at some time or other married into every other one. But not once did Araby hear of the Copperleys, to whom her aunt had attributed ‘a look.” “ HO were the Copperleys?” she inquired suddenly that evening as, supper over, they sat on the porch and watched the moonlight pattern the giant figurehead of the Ceres breasting a flood of lilies in the yard. Aunt Eula spread her skirts. ‘‘The Copperleys?” she repeated. ‘‘ Why, it’s four generations back that they come in. William Copperley was a portrait painter; came to Boston from England; played the flute, too, I believe. His sister Harriet played the spinnet to admiration. There’s a picture, painted by her brother, over to the museum in Boston. I’ve seen it. He’s at an easel painting her, and she’s sitting at the HOME JOURNAL “The east wind is the wind of dead men’s going; that’s an old superstition. That music has wailing in it and great spaces, don’t you think?”’ “‘Yes,’’ she breathed. al ee ng dead seem afraid, and yet they can’t go back, but the wind of their going is a message in itself. The south wind, even when it’s a storm, is different; it has a feel in it of life. Then, too, it doesn’t hate, even while it might destroy you. But the north wind hates; it resents men on the earth. Even a north breeze is resentful; it would like to push down the ice from the pole and freeze the heart of the world. It’s intolerant. ‘I don’t know that anyone ever quite got that into music or even tried to; but this—hear it? It’s the east wind.’’ His voice crooned on, an obbligato to the melody, never dissonant; and this from the man of cans! “And the west wind?” she ventured. ‘What does that séem like to you?” ““A confounded nuisance,” he snapped. “If we didn’t have those blamed winds, the harbor’d be twice as good. The fishing boats have to beat back half the time. I’m thinking of writing to the commission about the break- water; meant to speak to the cap about it to-night—guess I’ll do that now.” The man of cans had spoken. He rose heavily and a moment later his rasping voice was heard in dictatorial his ancestors, had in one week antagonized half the town and earned the contempt of the other half. The evening wore to a close. The guests departed. Ben Salisbury took his leave, with thanks for the entertainment in his honor that were insultingly patronizing. Aunt Eula’s face was a model of disgust as she handed Araby her candle from the hall console and selected her own. “That Ben Salisbury,” she said, her lips pulled close to her teeth, ‘“‘has got everything that’s hateful in the whole Peabody family, and not one good trait of the Prestons or the Salisburys. Seems as if the Lord must have sat up nights sortin’ ’em out, and then turned him out all leavin’s; what for, J don’t know.” ATE that night Araby crept down the stairs, her lighted candle in her hand. She stood long before the portrait of the Joshua who had been true to King George. It was not the features of the ancestor she studied, nor was she occupied with his feelings of loyalty or otherwise. She felt somehow that in the manner of the painting she could learn something of the Copperleys. Not artistic herself, nor yet experienced enough to appreciate, still she was impressed. There was life, fluent, colorful life, in the portrait, painted with apparent ease and grace. There was none of the stilted hardness of the other portraits, none of the precise conven- tions of rose or ruffle. There were strokes left unfinished. There was the illusion of movement in the brilliant piano with her head look- ing round at you over her shoulder. I suppose, bein’ her brother and all, it’s flatterin’ to both of them, but by all tokens they were uncommon handsome. Sort of reddish chestnut hair, curly from the roots, and fine, long eyes, very blue; high cheek color, too, I’d judge, the way they say the English are. “They seem to think a sight of that picture at the museum,” she went on. “It’s got the best place in the hull room and some- body’s always a-copyin’ of it. It was William Cop- perley painted that picture of Joshua Peabody behind the door, the one with the I-nglish flag. Well, in those days Thedford was a real important shipping port, and there was a lot of money. So William Cop- perley comes here to paint Joshua. That was before the Revolution _ started. Well, being foreigners and painters and players, they started no end of talk. I’ve got letters that tell about ‘em up in the post-chaise trunk in the attic— how people sort of looked on ‘em like actors. But what did they up and do but marry right here in Thed- ord! Of course the Mor- ons were wild when young Holden Morton took Har- riet over to Boston and married her; and then Audacia Pease eloped with the painter, and there was a pretty kettle of fish.”’ “Bur the Copperleys didn’t let Thedford have a chance to patronize them. Harriet took her Holden and William took his Audacia back to Eng- land, and it wasn’t till one of their grandsons came to America that Thedford heard sign of them. When I said there’s a look of the Copperleys in Ben Salis- bury, I was thinkin’ of that picture of Harriet and William over to Bos- ton. Ben’s got a stripe of Harriet is |! William? [ forget : howe tT, it’s a mighty thin streak in the I \s | |, he’s all or is n Peabody looseness of the paint. The face was full of human quality and character. Something of undying genius exhaled from the canvas. Satisfied, Araby crept up the stairs again and sought the sanctuary of the old low-poster. Ben Salisbury did not come up to the mansion on the ridge for three days. He was busy in the lower town with the building of the new storage houses for his plant and the many activities attendant on the revival of what had. once been an enormously’ prof- itable business. For two days Araby’s spirit starved. On the third day she sought the lower town, picked her way among the wharves to the new pier and, with an assumption of casualness she was far from feeling, called for Ben Salisbury. E RECEIVED her al- most churlishly; then, full of vanity and impor- tance, he welcomed an interested spectator to his greatness, bragging of his ac- complishments and proph- esying future successes. He was rough to his men, snarled at the foreman who approached him with blue prints, and kicked viciously at a lean wharf cat that scuttled for safety under the stringpiece. HY swore unrestrainedly. The tyrant and bully his grandfather had been showed forth in his descendant. Eagerly the girl watched him. She was hungry for the other soul, for just one glimpse of The Look. At the end of the dock a group of Portuguese were floating and righting the new piles for the extension. A lighter swung in the cur- rent. They were a pictur- esque group, brown skinned, lithe, their blue dungarees contrasting with shirts of red or yellow. One of them, a_ curly- headed youth with the face of a Raphael and the shoulders of a blacksmith, intoned a chanty as they hauled, the whole group singing in unison. “Sort of gets you, doesn’t it?” said Ben sud- denly, and Araby’s great grunt Captain hands,”’ rood wife. “But all zot of the Copperleys # hotl buta look.” Only a look—and yet it dominated ' that look she could forget the fleshy, grubbing the coarse body, the infinitely irritating vanity and scuily of Ben Salisbury. + :¢ yO a UNDAY night it was, when the function of presentation to the family had been accomplished to everyone’s inner and outer satisfaction, that Araby discovered that something else went with the look. It was as if the soul that came to the window spoke out of the coarse mouth its own fine language. For these rare moments Ben Salisbury was trans- ormed. They sat side by side on the lower step to the graveled walk, while the guests chatted in groups. Someone had Placed a brilliant violin record on the talking machine, and enchantment flowed out of the open parlor windows to flood the garden. At the very first note The Look came. Araby’s reath caught, her heart missed a beat. The soul was there, ‘he soul was speaking. “It’s as if the wind had a voice,” € said softly. ‘‘The east wind, I think, for they’re quite different, the voices of the winds.” know,” she whispered. For a Swaying Moment the Wild Thought Flashed That The Other One Had Somehow Broken the Bonds of His Prison and Made Himself Manifest converse, above the “rollic’’ of a jazz record that now spun from the machine. Araby hugged her knees. She longed with a sort of fury to tear that soul away from Ben Salisbury. Why should Ben Salisbury have two souls? Of the mystery of dual per- sonality she knew nothing. But here she was, confronted by something intangible and yet more real than reality. She hated Ben Salisbury, ninety-nine per cent of him; and the flash, the look, the other soul, she loved; she knew it surely, irrevocably, as she sat hugging her knees and staring at the rippling wooden draperies of her great-grandfather’s India merchantman’s figurehead. HE was bursting with emotion. Could she develop the soul until Ben Salisbury should become The Other? Could she call out that personality, bring it to her? Here in The Look was perfect love and understanding, a oneness without boundaries. She felt her inmost self respond—but Ben Salisbury! Ben Salisbury who shoveled his food with glut- tonous mouthings, whose fleshy hands made her shudder, whose thought was a combination of bootlicking craft and browbeating; Ben Salisbury who, returning to the home of eyes became wells of black light. ‘‘That rhythm and the color and the blue sea behind—sometimes I feel as if I wanted the sea in- stead of the land to live on. I’d like to go round the world. There are places with names that haunt, like the Canary Isles and Malaga and the Yalu. Wouldn’t it be fine if this wharf was to move out to sea like a deck with those men hauling up sails instead of put- ting down piles?” RABY felt the world spread before her for her choice. Would she be Princess of China or a Rani of India? Would she see the plains and deserts, or did her eyes crave the mountain snows? Ben Salisbury talked on; no, not Ben Salisbury—The Other. He spoke to her of his longing for travel, for silences, spaces, strange sounds and scents, even of a craving for the great mystery, the great silence behind the doors of the ages. He seemed utterly lost to the business about him. He stood easily and quietly, with none of his overbearing swagger. Araby led him on breathlessly, fearing every moment that the spell would break. Then: “Ever take the Fall River boat to New York? Say, they set some eats.” The curtain was down; the theater had gone dark. He glanced at his watch. “Thunder!” he CONTINUED ON PAGE 66

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10 HOME JOURNAL April, 1920 A POOR WISE MAN She Put Her Hands on Grace’s Shoulders. “Brace Up, Dear,” She Said Smilingly. “Don’t You Cry. J’ll be a Cardew By and By” I HE city turned its dreariest aspect toward the rail- way station—blackened walls, irregular and ill-paved streets, gloomy warehouses, and over all a gray, smoke-laden atmosphere which gave it mystery and often beauty. Sometimes the softened towers of the great steel bridges rose above the river, mistlike fairy towers sus- pended between heaven and earth; and again the sun tipped the surrounding hills with gold, while the city lay buried in its smoke shroud and white ghosts of river boats moved spectrally along. Sometimes it was ugly, sometimes beautiful, but always the city was powerful, significant, important. It was a vast melting pot. Through its gates came alike the hopeful and the hopeless, the dreamers and those who would destroy those dreams. From all over the world there came men who sought a chance to labor. They came in groups, anxious and dumb, carrying with them their pathetic bundles and shepherded by men with cunning eyes. Raw material, for the crucible of the city, as potentially powerful as the iron ore which entered the city by the same gate. — city took them in, gave them sanctuary, and forgot them. But the shepherds with the cunning eyes remembered. ILY CARDEW, standing in the train shed one morning early in March, watched such a line go by. She watched it with interest. She had developed a new interest in people during the year she had been away. She had seen, in the army camp, similar shuffling lines of men transformed in a few hours into ranks of uniformed soldiers, beginning already to be actuated by the same motive. These aliens, going by, would become citizens. Very soon now they would appear on the streets in new American clothes of extraordinary cut and color, their hair cut with clippers almost to the crown, and surmounted by derby hats always a size too small. Lily smiled and looked out for her mother. She was sud- denly unaccetmtably glad to be back again. She liked the smoke and the noise, the movement, ‘te*sense of things doing. And the sight of her mother,*young, faultlessly tailored, wearing a great bunch of violets and incongruous in that workday atmosphere, set her smiling again. How familiar it all was! And heavens, how young her mother looked! The limousine was at the curb, and a foot- man as immaculately turned out as her mother stood with a folded rug over his arm. On the seat inside lay a purple box. Lily had known it wouid be there. The contents would be ostensibly from her father, because he had not been able to meet her, but she knew quite well that Grace Cardew had stopped on her way downtown and bought them. Fgh Pps surge of affection for her mother warmed the girl’s eyes. The small attentions which in the Cardew household took the place of loving demonstrations had al- ways touched her. As a family the Cardews were rather loosely knitted together, but there was something very lov- able about her mother. Grace Cardew kissed her and then held her off and looked at her. ‘‘ Heavens, Lily!” she said. “You look as old as I do.” “Older, I hope,” Lily retorted. “What a marvel you are, Grace dear.’’ Now and then she called her mother “‘ Grace.” It was by way of being a small joke between them, but lim- ited to their moments alone. Once old Anthony, her grand- father, had overheard her and there had been rather a row about it. “I feel horribly old, but I didn’t think I looked it.” They got into the car and Grace held out the box to her. “From your father, dear. He wanted so to come, but things are dreadful at the mill. I suppose you’ve seen the papers.” Lily opened the box, and smiled at her mother. ‘Yes, I know. But why the camouflage about the flowers, mother dear? Honestly, did he send them or did you get them? But never mind about that; I know he’s worried, and you’re sweet to do it. Have you broken the news to grandfather that the last of the Cardews is coming home?” “He sent you all sorts of messages, and he’ll see you at dinner.” Lily laughed out at that. “ You darling!’’ she said. ‘‘ You know perfectly well. that I am nothing in grandfather's young life; but the Cardew women all have—what does he call it? Oh, yes!—savoir-faire. What would they do, father and grandfather, if you didn’t go through life smoothing things for them?” Grace looked rather stiffly ahead. This young daughter of hers, with her directness and her smiling ignoring of the small subterfuges of life, rather frightened her. She turned and eyed Lily uneasily. ‘‘ You look tired,’’ she said, ‘“‘and you need attention. I wish you had let me send Castle to you.” But she thought that Lily was even lovelier than she had remembered her—lovely rather than beautiful, perhaps. Her face was less childish than when she had gone away; there was, in certain of her expressions, an almost alarming maturity. But perhaps that was fatigue. “couldn't have had Castle, mother. I didn’t need any- thing. I’ve been very happy, really, and very busy.” “You have been very vague lately in what you have told me about your work.” Lily faced her mother squarely. “I didn’t think you’d much like having me do it, and I thought it would drive grandfather crazy.” “T thought you were in a canteen. “Not lately. I’ve been looking after girls who had fc. lowed soldiers to camps. We married quite a lot of ther.” The curious reserve that so often exists between motner and daughter held Grace Cardew dumb. She nodded, but her eyes had slightly hardened. So this was what war had done to her. She had had no son, and had thanked God for it during the war, although old Anthony had hated her al! her married life for it. But she had given her daughter, her clear-eyed daughter, and they had shown her the dregs of life. HES thoughts went back over the years. To Lily as a child, with mademoiselle always at her elbow and life painted as a thing of beauty. Love, marriage and birth were divine accidents. Death was a quiet sleep, with heaven just beyond, a sleep which came only to age, which had wearied and would rest. Then she remembered the day when Elinor Cardew, poor unhappy Elinor, had fled back to the shelter of Anthony’s roof when her baby was born, and after a few rapturous weeks for Lily the baby had died. ; “But the baby isn’t old,” Lily had persisted, standing 1" front of her mother with angry, accusing eyes. Apr | Gr rathe baby was | se E a cur imag Mad mind victic soul. part ° ina boots come the t to sit Th when and ¢ But 1 moisé

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HOME JOURNAL ary Roberts Rinehart 2 i ghar athe tsk AT ILLUSTRATIONS BY ARTHUR I. KELLER “I Wouldn’t Call Out, Mr. Cardew,” Said a Cold Voice. “I Have My Left Hand on a Revolver in My Pocket.” The Same Revolver That Grace was not an imaginative woman, but she turned it rather neatly, as she told Howard later. “‘It was such a nice baby,” she said, feeling for an idea. ‘‘I think probably God was lonely without it, and sent an angel for it again.” ‘But it is still upstairs,” Lily had insisted. She had had a curious instinct for truth, even then. But there Grace’s imagination had failed her, and she sent for mademoiselle. Mademoiselle was a good Catholic, and very clear in her own mind, but what she left in Lily’s brain was a confused con- viction that every person was two persons, a body and a soul. Death was simply a split-up then. One part of you, the part that bathed every morning and went to dancing school in a white frock and thin black silk stockings and carriage boots over pumps, that part was buried and would only come up again at the resurrection. But the other part was all the time very happy, and mostly singing. Lily did not like to sing. Then there was the matter of tears. People cried only when they hurt themselves. She had been told that again and again when she threatened tears over her music lesson. But when Aunt Elinor had gone away she had found made- moiselle, the deadly antagonist of tears, weeping. Here again Grace remembered the child’s wide, insistent eyes. ‘Why?” ‘She is sorry for Aunt Elinor.” “‘ Because her baby’s gone to God? She ought to be glad, oughtn’t she?”’ “Not that,”’ said Grace, and had brought a box of choco- lates and given her one, although they were not permitted save one after each meal. HEN Lily had gone away to school. How carefully the school had been selected! When she came back, how- ever, there had been no more questions, and Grace had sighed with relief. That bad time was over, anyhow. But Lily was rather difficult those days. She seemed, in some vague way, resentful. Her mother found her, now and then, in a frowning, half- defiant mood. And once, when mademoiselle had ventured some jesting remark about young Alston Denslow, she was stupefied to see the girl march out of the room, her chin high, not to be seen again for hours. Grace’s mind was subconsciously remembering those things even when she spoke. “I didn’t know you were having to learn about that side of life,’’ she said after a brief silence. “That side of life zs life, mother,” Lily said gravely. But Grace did not reply to that. It was characteristic of her to follow her own line of thought. ‘‘I wish you wouldn’t tell your grandfather. You know he feels strongly about some things. And he hasn’t forgiven me yet for letting you go.” ATHER diffidently Lily put her hand en her mother’s. She gave her rare caresses shyly, with averted eyes, and she was always more diffident with her mother than with her father. Such spontaneous bursts of affection as she some- times showed had been lavished on mademoiselle. ‘‘ Poor mother !’’ she said; ‘I have made it hard for you, haven't I? Is he as bad as ever?’’ Between Grace and herself it was quite understood that old Anthony Cardew was always as bad as could be. “There is some sort of trouble at the mill. worried.” This time it was Lily who did not reply. She said inconse- quentially: ‘‘ We’re saved, and it’s all over; but sometimes I wonder if we were worth saving. It all seems such a mess, doesn’t it?’’ She glanced out. They were drawing up before the house, and she looked at her mother whimsically. ‘‘ The last of the Cardews returning from the wars!”’ she said. “Only she is unfortunately a she, and she hasn’t been any nearer the war than the state of Ohio.” Her voice was gay enough, but she had a quick vision of the grim old house had she been the son they had wanted to carry on the name returning from France. The Cardews had fighting traditions. They had fought in every war from the Revolution on. There had been a Cardew in Mexico in 48, and in that upper suite of rooms to which her grandfather had retired in wrath on his son’s marriage she remembered the sense of mystery she had felt at seeing on the wall the sword he had worn in the Civil War. He was a small man, and the scabbard was badly worn at the end, mute testimony to the long forced marches of his youth. Her father had gone to Cuba in '98 and had almost Your father is died of typhoid fever there, contracted in the marshes of Florida, Yes, they had been a fighting family. And now—— ER mother was determinedly gay. There were flowers in the dark old hall, and Grayson, the butler, evidently waiting inside the door, greeted her with the familiarity of the old servant who had slipped her sweets from the pantry after a dinner party in her little-girl years. ‘‘ Welcome home, Miss Lily,” he said. Mademoiselle was lurking on the stairway, a new lace col- lar over her old black dress. Lily recognized in the collar a great occasion, for mademoiselle was French and thrifty. Suddenly a wave of warmth and gladness flooded her. This was home—dear, familiar home. She had come back. She was the only young thing in the house. She would bring them gladness and youth. Always before she had taken; now she meant to give. Not that she had formulated such a thought. It was an emotion rather. She ran up the stairs and hugged mademoiselle wildly. “You darling old thing!"’ she cried. She lapsed into French. “‘T saw the collar at once. And think, it is over! It is fin- ished. And all your nice French relatives are sitting on the boulevards in the sun, and rising and bowing when a pretty girl passes. Is it not so?” “It is so, God and the saints be praised!” said made- moiselle huskily. RACE CARDEW followed them up the staircase. Her French was negligible, and she felt again, as in days gone by, shut out from the little world of two which held, her daughter and the governess. Old Anthony’s doing, that; he had never forgiven his son his plebeian marriage, and an early conversation returned to her. It was on Lily’s first birthday, and he had made one of his rare visits to the nursery. He had brought with him a pearl in a velvet case. “All our women have their own pearls,” he had said. ‘She will have her grandmother's also when she marries. | shall give her one the first year, two the second, and so on.” He had stood looking down at the child critically. ‘“She’s a Car- dew,” he said at last, ‘which means that she will be obsti- nate and self-willed.’’ He had paused there, but Grace had

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Gaye — beet ee Laer pri ne a Ss ee Nes SA o a TE Se not refuted the statement. He had grinned. “As you know,” he added. ‘Is she talking yet?”’ ‘‘A word or two,”’ Grace had said. “Very well. Get her a French governess; she ought to speak French before she does English; it is one of the accomplishments of a lady. Get a good woman and, for heaven's sake, arrange to serve her breakfast in her room! I don’t want to have to be pleasant to any chattering Frenchwoman at eight in the morning.” “No, you wouldn’t,”’ Grace had said. Anthony had stamped out, but in the hall he smiled grimly. He did not like Howard’s wife, but she was not afraid of him. He respected her for that. But he took good care to see that the Frenchwoman was found, and at dinner, the only meal he took with the family, he would now and then send for the governess and Lily to come in for dessert. That of course was later, when the child was nearly ten. Then would follow a_ three- cornered conversation in rapid French, Howard and Anthony a and Lily, with mademoiselle joining in timidly, and with Grace, pretending to eat and feeling cut off in a middle-class world of her own, at the side of the table, for Anthony Cardew had retained the head of his table and he had never asked her to take his dead wife’s place. After a time Grace realized the consummate cruelty ‘of those hours, the fact that Lily was sent for, not because the old man cared to see her, but to make Grace feel the out- sider that she was. She made desperate efforts to conquer the hated language, but her accent wasatrocious. Anthony would correct her suavely, and Lily would laugh in childish, un- thinking mirth. She gave it up at last. She never told Howard about it. He had his own diffi- culties with his father, and she would not add to them. She managed the house, checked up the bills and sent them to the office, put upa cheerful and courageous front, and after a time sheathed herself in an armor of smiling indifference. But she thanked heaven when the time came to send Lily away to school. The effort of concealing the armed neutral- ity between Anthony and her- self was growing more wearing. The girl was observant. And Anthony had been right. She wasa Cardew. She would have fought her grandfather out on it, defied him, accused him, hated him, And Grace wanted peace. NCE again, as she fol- lowed Lily and mademoi- selle up the stairs, she felt the barrier of language and back of it the Cardew pride and traditions that somehow cut her off. But in Lily’s rooms she was her sane and cheerful self again. Inside the doorway the girl was standing, her eyes travel- ing over her little domain ecstatically. ‘How lovely of you not to change a thing, mother!’ she said. ‘I was so afraid—I know how you hate my stuff. But I might have known you wouldn’t. All the time I’ve been away, sleeping ina dormitory and taking turns at the bath, I have thought of my own little place.” She wandered around, touching her familiar possessions with caressing hands. “I’ve a good notion,” she declared, ‘‘to go to bed immediately, just for the pleasure of lying in linen sheets again.’’ Suddenly she turned to her mother. ‘I’m afraid you'll find I’ve made some queer friends, mother.” “What do you mean by ‘queer’?”’ “People no proper Cardew would care to know,’’ she smiled. ‘‘Where’s Ellen? I want to tell her I met somebody she knows out there, the nicest sort of a boy.’’ She went to the doorway and called lustily: ‘‘Ellen! Ellen!” The rustling of starched skirts answered her from down the corridor. “T wish you wouldn’t call, dear.’’ Grace looked anxious. “You know your grandfather—there’s a bell for Ellen.” " \ HAT we need around here,” said Lily cheerfully, “is Va little more calling. And if grandfather thinks it is unbefitting the family dignity, he can put cotton in his ears. Come in, Ellen. Ellen, do you know that I met Willy Cam- eron in the camp?” “Willy!”’ squealed Ellen. ‘You met Willy? Isn’t he a fine boy, Miss Lily?” “He's wonderful,” said Lily. “I went to the movies with him every Friday night.’’ She turned to her mother. “ You would like him, mother. He couldn’t get into the army. He is a little bit lame. And’’—she surveyed Grace with amused eyes—“ you needn’t think what you are thinking. He is tall and thin and not at all good looking. Is he, Ellen?” “He is a very fine young man,” Ellen said rather stiffly. “He’s very highly thought of in the town I come from. His father was a doctor. When he found they wouldn’t take him as a soldier he was like to break his heart.” “‘Lame?” Grace repeated, ignoring Ellen. “Justa little. You forget all about it when you know him. Don’t you, Ellen?” HOME JOURNAL But at Grace’s tone Ellen remembered. She stiffened and became again a housemaid in the Anthony Cardew house, a self-effacing, rubber-heeled, pink-uniformed lower servant. She glanced at Mrs. Cardew, whose eyebrows were slightly raised. ‘‘ Thank you, miss,’’ she said, and went out, leaving Lily rather chilled and openly perplexed. ' \ ELL!” she said. Then she glanced at her mother. “I do believe you are a little shocked, mother, because Ellen and I have a mutual friend in Mr. William Wallace Cameron. Well, if you want the exact truth, he hadn’t an atom of use for me until he heard about Ellen.’’ She put her hands on Grace’s shoulders. ‘ Brace up, dear,” she said smil- ingly. ‘Don’t you cry. I'll be a Cardew by and by.” “Did you really go to the moving pictures with him?” Grace asked rather unhappily. She had never been inside a moving-picture theater. They were constituted of bad air E098 a ARIEL RCM PNT IER ON BOE IE IN AE TE I TREE 3 Over the House, Always Silent, There Had Come a Deathlike Hush. . . . Anthony Cardew Had Come Home for Dinner and unchaperoned young women accompanied by youths obviously of the lower class, and of other women, sometimes drab, carrying children who should have been in bed hours before. She was not imaginative, or she could not have lived so long in Anthony Cardew’s house. She never saw, in the long line waiting outside even the meanest of the little theaters that had invaded the once sacred vicinity of the Cardew house, the cry of every human heart for escape from the sordid, the lure of romance, the call of adventure and the open road. “I can’t believe it,’’ she added. Lily made a little gesture of half-amused despair. ‘‘ Dear- est,”’ she said, “I did. And I liked it. Mother, things have changed a lot in twenty years. Sometimes I think that here, in this house, you don’t realize that’’—she struggled for a phrase—‘‘things have changed,’’ she ended lamely. ‘‘The social order and that sort of thing—you know; caste.” She hesitated. She was young and inarticulate and, when she saw Grace’s face, somewhat frightened. But she was not old Anthony’s granddaughter for nothing. ‘‘This idea of being a Cardew,” she went on, ‘‘that’s ridiculous, you know. I’m only half Cardew, anyhow. The rest is you, dear, and it’s got being a Cardew beaten by quite a lot.” “Lily,” Grace asked, ‘“‘you are not—in love with this Cameron person, are you?” Lily’s easy laugh reassured her. “No, indeed,” she said; “Tam not. I shall probably marry beneath me, as you would call it, but not William Wallace Cameron. For one thing, he wouldn’t have grandfather in his family.” OMETIME later mademoiselle tapped at Grace’s door and entered. Grace was reclining on a chaise longue, towels tucked about her neck and over her pillows, while Castle, her elderly English maid, was applying ice in a soft SALLE GANT DDO Mi 8S. REBELS, RRR OT ON. Cea eI Silt Magi OS April, 1920 cloth to her face. Grace sat up. The towel, pinned around her hair like a coif, gave a placid, almost nunlike appearance to her still lovely face. ‘“Well?’’ she demanded. ‘‘Go out for a minute, Castle.” Mademoiselle waited until the maid had gone. ‘I have spoken to Ellen,’’ she said, her voice cautious. ‘‘A young man who does not care for women, a clerk in a country phar- macy. What is that, Mrs. Cardew?” “Tt would be so dreadful, mademoiselle. father ——”’ “But not handsome,”’ insisted mademoiselle; ‘‘and lame! Also, I know the child. She is not in love. When that comes to her we shall know it.” Grace lay back, relieved but not entirely comforted. “She is changed, isn’t she, mademoiselle?” . Mademoiselle shrugged her shoulders. ‘‘A phase,’’ she said. She had got the word from old Anthony, who regarded any mental attitude that did not conform with his own as a condition that would pass. Her grand- “Call Castle, please,” she said. ““And—do warn her not to voice those ideas of hers to her grandfather. Ina country pharmacy, you say?” “And lame, and not fond of women,” corroborated made- moiselle; and added in rapid French: ‘It couldn’t be bet- ter, could it?” ( £ ““A phase, only—one of the ¢ fruits of war. Now that she is > back among familiar things, © she will become again a F daughter of the house.” “Then you think this talk i of hers about marrying beneath P| her ; x “She ’as had liberty,” said Ba mademoiselle, who sometimes : lost an aspirate. “It is like B; wine to the young; it intoxi- 5 cates. But it, too, passes. In ig my country ss a But for a number of years Grace had heard a great deal of i mademoiselle’s country. She * settled herself on her pillows. or Il HORTLY after the Civil War, Anthony Cardew had left Pittsburgh and spent a Thats SRST ae ae sit sees | & year in finding a location for ia the investment of his small | capital. That was in the very & beginning of the epoch of steel. The iron business had already ¥ laid the foundations of its fu- M ture greatness, but steel was 4 still in its infancy. Anthony’s ¢ father had been an ironmaster inasmall way, with a monthly pay roll of a few hundred dol- lars and an abiding faith in : the future of iron. He had 2 never dreamed of steel. But 65 saw the first steel rail rolled inAmerica,and Anthony Cardew began to dream. He went to Chicago first, and from there to Michigan, to see the first successful Bes- semer converter. When he started East again he knew what he was to make his life work. He was young and his capital was small. But he had an abiding faith in the new industry. The city he chose was a small city then, yet it already showed signs of approaching greatness. On the east side, across the river, he built his first plant, a small one, with the blast heated by passing through cast-iron pipes, with the furnacemen testing the temperature with strips of lead and zine and the skip hoist a patient mule. He had ore within easy hauling distance, and he had fuel; and he had, as time went on, a rapidly increasing market. Labor was cheap and plentiful, too, and, being American-born, was willing and intelligent. iit 1 the daar ki een HE Cardew fortune began in the '70’s. Up to that time there was a struggle, but in the ’70’s Anthony did two things—he went to England to see the furnaces there and brought home a wife, a timid, tall Englishwoman of irre- proachable birth, who remained always an alien in the crude, busy new city; and he built himself a house, a brick house in lower East Avenue, a house rather like his tall, quiet wife, and run on English lines. He was already the leading citizen, gave now and then lengthy, ponderous dinners, making out the lists himself and handing them over to his timid Eng- lish wife, and, at the head of his table, let other men talk, and listened. They talked, those industrial pioneers, especially after the women had gone. They saw the city the center of great business and great railroads. They talked of its coal, its river and the great oil fields not far away, which were then in their infancy. All of them dreamed a dream, saw a vision. But not all of them lived to see their dream come true. Old Anthony lived to see it. In the late ’80’s, his wife having been by that time deco- rously interred in one of the first great mausoleums west of the mountains, Anthony Cardew found himself already wealthy. He owned oil wells and coal mines. His mines sup- plied his coke ovens with coal, and his own river boats, as well as railroads in which he was a.director, carried his steel. He labored ably and well, and not for wealth alone. He was one of a group of big-visioned men who saw that a nation was only as great as its industries. It was only in his later years that he loved power for the sake of power; and Apri wher rigid pron He weal “Vo a sta H' How Or river after besic was Antl irritd edge was | terro alrea that dista hous He He v the s How colle office to dc Or drea these be ir Bi com looki 00's powé Antt plain their ness play: later keep smol Ar end j their quis] couk hims one { woul Bi NX trait been vals her f é “Ga L 2:

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April, 1920 when, having outlived his generation, he developed a rigidity of mind that made him view the forced com- promises of the new régime as weaknesses. He considered his son Howard’s quiet strength weakness. ‘You have no stamina,’ he would say. “You have no moral fiber. For heaven’s sake make a stand, you fellows, and stick to it!” HE HAD had two children, a boy and a girl. The girl had been the tragedy of his middle years, and Howard had been his hope. On the heights outside the city and overlooking the river he owned a farm, and now and then, on Sunday afternoons, he drove out there, with Howard sitting beside him, a rangy boy in his teens. The farmhouse was in a hollow, but always on: those excursions Anthony, fastidiously dressed, picking his way half irritably through briers and cornfields, would go to the edge of the cliffs and stand there, looking down. Below was the muddy river, sluggish always, but a thing of terror in spring freshets. And across was the east side, already a sordid place, its steel mills belching black smoke that killed the green of the hillsides, its furnaces dwarfed by distance and height, its rows of wooden structures which housed the mill laborers. Howard would go with him, but he dreamed no dreams. He was a sturdy, dependable, unimaginative boy, watching the squirrels or flinging stones over the palisades. Life for Howard was already a thing determined. He would go to college, and then he would come back and go into the mill offices. In time, he would take his father’s place. He meant to do it well and honestly. He had but to follow. Only once or twice did Anthony Cardew give voice to his dreams. Once he said: ‘I'll build a house out here some of these days. Good location. Growth of the city is bound to be in this direction.” But he never built his house on the cliff. Time was to come when great houses stood there, like vast forts, ‘over- looking, almost menacing, the valley beneath. For until the ’90's, although the city distended in all directions, huge, ugly, powerful, infinitely rich, and while in the direction of Anthony’s farm the growth was real and rapid, it was the plain people who lined its rapidly extending avenues with their two-story brick houses, little homes of infinite tender- ness and quiet, along tree-lined streets, where the children played on the cobblestones, and at night the horse cars, and later the cable system, brought home tired clerks and store- keepers to small havens, already growing dingy from the smoke of the distant mills. Anthony Cardew did not like the plain people. Yet in the end it was the plain people—those who neither labored with their hands nor lived by the labor of others—who van- quished him, vanquished him and tried to save him, but could not. A smallish man, hard and wiry, he neither saved himself nor saved others. He had one fetish—power; and one pride—his line. The Cardews were ironmasters. Howard would be an ironmaster, and Howard’s son. But Howard never had a son. III AL through her teens Lily had wondered about the mys- tery concerning her Aunt Elinor. There was an oil por- trait of her in the library, and one of the first things she had been taught was not to speak of it. Now and then, at inter- vals of years, Aunt Elinor came back. Her mother and her father would look worried, and Aunt Elinor herself would Se ee ee aad HOME JOURNAL stay in her rooms, and seldom appeared at meals—never at dinner. Asa child Lily used to think she had two Aunt Elinors, one the little girl in the gilt frame, and the other the quiet, soft- voiced person who slipped around the upper corridors like a ghost. But she was not to speak of either of them to her grandfather. Lily was not born in the house on lower East Avenue. In the late '80’s Anthony built himself a home, not on the farm, but in a new residence portion of the city. The old common—grazing ground of family cows—had become a park by that time, still only a potentially beautiful thing, with the trees that were to be its later glory only thin young shoots; and on the streets that faced it the wealthy of the city built their homes, brick houses of square solidity, flush with brick pavements, which were carefully reddened on Saturday mornings. Beyond the pavement were cobblestoned streets. Anthony Cardew was the first man in the city to have a rubber-tired carriage. 6 ey story of Anthony Cardew’s new home is the story of Elinor’s tragedy; nor did it stop there. It carried on to the third generation, to Lily Cardew, and in the end it involved the city itself. Because of the ruin of one small home all homes were threatened. One small house, and one undying hatred. Yet the matter was small in itself. An Irishman named Doyle owned the site Anthony coveted. After years of struggle his small grocery had begun to put him on his feet, and now the new development of the neighborhood added to his prosperity. He was a dried-up, sentimental little man, with two loves—his wife’s memory and his wife’s garden, which he still tended religiously between customers; and one ambition—his son. With the change from common to park, and the improve- ment in the neighborhood, he began to flourish; and he, too, like Anthony, dreamed a dream. He would make his son a gentleman, and he would get a shop assistant and a horse and, wagon. Poverty was still his lot, but there weré good times coming. He saved carefully and sent Jim Doyle away to college. He would not sell to Anthony. When he said he could not sell his wife’s garden Anthony’s agents reported him either mad or deeply scheming. They kept after him, offering much more than the land was worth. “An Army Camp Isn’t a Sunday-School Picnic. And I Like Strong Men, Even if They are Brutal Sometimes” 13 Doyle began by being pugnacious, but in the end he took to brooding. ‘‘He’ll get me yet,” he would mutter, standing among the white phlox of his little back garden. ‘‘He’ll get me. He never quits.” Anthony Cardew waited a year. Then he had the frame building condemned as unsafe, and Doyle gave in. Anthony built his house. He put a brick stable where the garden had been, and the night watchman for the property complained that a little man, with wild eyes, often spent half the night standing across the street, quite still, staring over. If Anthony gave Doyle a thought, it was that progress and growth had their inevitable victims. But on the first night of Anthony's occupancy of his new house, Doyle shot himself beside the stable, where a few stalks of white phlox had survived the building operations. rf NEVER reached the newspapers, nor did a stable boy’s story of hearing the dying man curse Anthony and all his works. But, nevertheless, the story of the Doyle curse on Anthony Cardew spread. Aithony heard it and forgot it. But two days later he was dgagged from his carriage by young Jim Doyle, returned for; his father’s funeral, and beaten insensible, with the stock of his own carriage whip. Young Doyle did not run away.’ He steed by, watching Anthony on the cobbles, as though he wanted to see him revive and suffer, a defiant figure actuated, by hatred. ‘I didn’t do it to revenge my father,’’ he saidvat-the trial. ‘‘He was nothing to me. I did it to show old Cardew that he couldn’t get away with it. I’d do it again too.”’ Any sentiment in his favor died at that, and he was given five years in the penitentiary. He was a demoralizing influ- ence there, already a socialist with anarchical tendencies and with the gift of influencing men—a fluent, sneering youth who lashed the guards to fury with his unctuous, diabolical tongue. The penitentiary had not been moved.then. It stood in the park, a grim, gray thing of stone. Elinor Cardew, a somali girl always, used to stand in [a window of the new house and watch the walls. Inside there were men who were shut waned from all that greenery around them. Men who could look up at the sky, or down at the ground, but never out and across, as she could. She was always hoping some of them would get away. She hated the sentries, rifle on shoulder, who walked their monotonous beats, back and forward, along the top of the wall. NTHONY’S house was square and substantial, with high ceilings. It was paneled with walnut and furnished in walnut in those days; its tables and bureaus were of wal- nut, with cold, white marble tops; and in the parlor was a square walnut piano, which Elinor hated because she had to sit there three hours each day, slipping on the top of the horsehair-covered stool, to practice. Elinor had never heard the story of old Michael Doyle or of his son Jim. But one night—she was seventeen then, and Jim Doyle had served three years of his sentence—sit- ting at dinner with her father, she said: “Some convicts escaped from the penitentiary to-day, father.” “Don't believe it,” said Anthony Cardew. about it in the newspapers.” “ Frdulein saw the hole.’’ governess. French one. “ Nothing Elinor had had a German That was one reason why Elinor’s niece had a CONTINUED ON PAGE 155

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ate SA COI nt Pea cas: a a cee A Son nS ani nett daintalonaits Hes HOME JOURNAL April, 1920 WING DUST Mac’s Eyes, Usually Bright and Attractively Sparkling, Were Dark and Still, and Followed the Dancers Almost Hungrily BOVE the café entrance on the corner glowed a big, pale yellow moon; con- trary to the nature of moons, it hung from an iron arm and swung a little the seasons through, sometimes shrouded with chill fall mist or veiled with hurrying flakes. Plate glass beneath it suffused with soft light from within the colorful stir and change of café life, silk and flowers and laughter. A bar or two of music, indistinctly heard, a girl’s wistful eyes, the set of a man’s coat, the turn of a pretty head glimpsed suddenly in a mirror—any one of these the key to a hundred doors. Light, color, the lilt of the orchestra concealed in their arch—the play seekers love it all—and a face here and there touched with sadness, who notices or cares? Twice during the evening, at nine o’clock and at twelve, the spotlight singled them out, and followed them about— Veva Hamilton and Teddy Troup—in their feature dance at the Yellow Moon. Jimmy Weeks, owner of the Yellow Moon, had originated this feature dance, ‘‘The Butterfly,” and it was not new, nor did Jimmy Weeks know at the time he billed it what a drawing card he had. Hamilton and Troup had danced “The Butterfly” all summer, twice a night, and from the first café patrons who wanted something different came to the Yellow Moon because of Teddy Troup’s golden tenor singing ‘“‘Be My Butterfly” and because the two of them, dancing, were like poetry. Under the radiance of the spotlight the girl’s hair was the gold of a butterfly’s wing, her rouge and powder the clear pink and white of the rose, and her frock the color of all the butterflies in the world, its draperies ending in a great bow at her slim shoulders like filmy wings. So perfect was the harmony between mind and motion that the dance was a beautiful thing, as the girl and the man glided and swayed, danced now together, now apart, he following her with out- stretched arms, she elusive, yet decreasing the distance between them in ever-lessening circles as she listened to his song. HE golden tenor was carefully shaded, exquisitely modu- _4& lated not to disturb the symphony of their motion, and in the eyes of Teddy Troup, eyes the color of the mid-point between June horizon and zenith, was the look that is in the eyes of every woman’s dream lover. His outstretched hands touched hers; slowly she came to a quivering stop, hands locked in his against his breast, her face uplifted as he neared the ending of his song—a butterfly, feeling the net of the captor already enmeshed about folded wings, yet not an unwilling captive; afraid, yet still shyly eager. The tableau brought an encore; it always did; and the piano again took up the melody of the chorus. But the hands of Mac McGregor—strong, beautifully muscled hands, By Lyle Cook ILLUSTRATIONS BY FREDERIC A. ANDERSON always so sure, so light—faltered a little on the keys of the grand. Mac’seyes, usually bright and attractively sparkling, were dark and still, and followed the dancers almost hun- grily. There were puffy places beneath them, and his affectionate young mouth drooped; the air of desperate unhappiness about him would have impressed the tender- hearted at even first glance. When Teddy Troup’s hands closed about the girl’s hands Mac McGregor turned his head—he always did—and as the pure tenor melted out, leaving its trail of little wistful echoes, Mac’s fingers stopped upon the keys, striking a series of dis- cordant notes, and his bright auburn head went down upon his arm, against the piano. EYERS, the violinist, got up from his chair hastily and, stepping to the piano, bent over Mac, laying a friendly hand upon his shoulder. “Mac ”” he began. Mac rose unsteadily; his face was white, lines of a certain weariness round his mouth. ‘I’m sick,’’ he muttered. “I’m just sick,” Meyers threw an arm round his shoulders and led him away from the dim arch in front of which the orchestra was seated, into the small, half-empty room that was next. Jimmy Weeks was in there, but Mac paid no attention to Jimmy. Slid down in a chair, he looked white and miserable and, indeed, very sick, like the thoroughbred that goes on his nerve, fights on until the nerve gives way. The Romeo and Juliet turn was on, and Mac’s eyes looked directly but almost unseeingly through the arch at the girl in the balcony who was throwing roses at her ragtime Romeo, jazzing in_ the court below her with a ukulele. Mac gave a sudden short laugh that was exactly like a sob; Meyers paused halfway to him, a glass of water drip- ping in his hand. Mac waved a shaking finger in the direction of the Juliet. “That girl,”’ he said weakly, ‘‘she—she’s got a wing on her— a wing on her, like a butterfly ”” and went to pieces. Jimmy Weeks took a hand then; there was a doctor in the café and Jimmy hustled him in to see Mac. The doctor looked Mac over, and then looked at Jimmy. “What under the sun have you been doing to this kid? He’s nothing but a messed-up jumble of nerves. Get him out of here and take him home.” Jimmy, with forty-five years of experience back of him and a very soft heart guiding him, looked the doctor in the eye. ‘ You doctors,” he said, “‘ know a heck of a lot! When you get through treating him for a nervous collapse, I’ll try my hand at a case of heartbreak. C’mon; let’s take him home.” They were both right. There is nothing so swift and sure to bring on a smash-up of nerves as grief or unhappiness. Mac fainted very quietly when he reached his own apart- ment, and woke up in bed with a cool night wind blowing across his face, Jimmy Weeks on one side of the bed, the doctor on the other, holding a watch. “Can’t count him out, doc,’”’ said Jimmy. “He's got all kinds of grit, or he couldn’t stand working for me.” Mac grinned faintly at Jimmy Weeks. “Took him six minutes to come out of that,” said the doctor. “And he’d better not do it again, because we can’t lose that much time getting him well.” “T’m going to play nurse to-night,”’ vowed Jimmy. “If I catch him doing it again, I’ll spank him.” “Give me a drink,’”’ whispered Mac. When the doctor had gone away, Jimmy Weeks turned the shaded light low and disposed himself comfortably in a big chair. Mac lay still and looked out of the window between the curtains. Strung across the square of half dark were the city’s lights, winking, effacing the stars. | pees nearly a year and a half, April to August, Mac had worked very hard and very steadily. Jimmy Weeks owned a music-publishing house in addition to the Yellow Moon, and until five o’clock every day Mac worked there at the piano. Sometimes he wrote songs of his own; they had once been happy little songs, some with words, some without, all brilliant, lovable songs; but of late they had lost their lightness, almost lost their happy lilt; some were lonesome, all had a note of longing. Other times he wrote music for the words of someone else. At six o’clock he began work at the Yellow Moon. It wouldn’t have been so bad, working hard, if he had been happy, but he was terribly unhappy. In love with Veva from the first, he had, heartened a little by the shy look with which she had sometimes answered his, waited, hushed his need of her, and worked eagerly, thinking that sometime he would tell her when he had the right and everything to offer. But until he met Veva he had been in the habit of spending his stray afternoons off with another girl, a nice girl and a clever one. Somehow it had been difficult for him, for Louise Henning knew a good thing when she saw it and saw no Apri reas man bere Ted had O1 time whe! to n crys His eage lets, mad Mac his a flam desp reset hurt until had Al toge of lo was only vai that was Ted M affai ther muc He hom brot been who: to s his § girl’s ever was! criec ash: Wee put | hugs was do, fath his | side muc sleey T. a we sper weel witk rush terr won one | W mor who: apar with and Wit! kidd kno\ hear littl ther in tk that E rang only mos Lou: The pea: mor: cour Loui gott viole he y the desp the less] winc i han cong he i on “ Di don “Ne

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=~ =» axxo SW oD @ = » — Coarm.' Dm April, 1920 HOME JOURNAL reason why she should lose a good time when there were so many ways she knew how to employ to get one. Mac remem- bered clearly the afternoon he and Louise had met Veva and Teddy Troup on the street, and the wide-eyed look Veva had given him. Once or twice he had tried to cut in. There had been a time when he took her to luncheon at a little restaurant where soft laughter and small, pleasant sounds slipped out to meet his thoughts and whispered to them, and made crystal castles of all the shadowy dream rooms of his life. His eyes, unknown to him, playing traitor, had made shy, eager love to her across the table. Once he bought her vio- lets, because violets were made for days when pale sunshine made the wet street sparkle after the first spring shower. Oe in a wonderful little tea réom, they had spent most of an afternoon; they had danced together there, but Mac was not all singing inside with the soft weight of her in his arms; something was holding his heart with hands like flames, something that hurt. He had come away, blindly, desperately unhappy. Veva’s eyes were always troubled, reserved, as if uncertain, and those hands held his heart, hurt, like quiet crying. Never would there be violets again until the fair winds came back to sweep away the_mists that had dimmed the wistful beauty of the crystal castles. After that it seemed that she and Teddy were always together, her eyes were glad for Teddy; and, in part dread of loneliness, perverse jealousy kept Mac with Louise. She was good company. Looking in her gray-green eyes he saw only other eyes, dawn-gray and deep. He must play for “The Butterfly” and know what the others were saying— that Teddy, who had always had the heart of a matinée idol, was crazy about the little dancer. Everything had gone Teddy’s way. Mac reflected that he hadn’t had much backbone in the affair or else the bone had all concentrated in his head; but there didn’t seem to be , much of a chance for him. digestion all wrong; nearly everything the matter with him. But he’ll be all right in three weeks more—three weeks to rest and sleep and eat.” “That sounds all right too,” said Jimmy Weeks. “ But he isn’t cured yet. When you get through fussin’ round over him, as I said before, I’ll take a hand.” ECAUSE life at the Yellow Moon began at six o'clock, the place was deserted, or nearly so, of afternoons; only when some of the crowd came down occasionally to kill time or members of a new troupe came to rehearse did it take on a show of life. On this certain afternoon it was quite lonely, save that in Jimmy Weeks’ room, behind the arch, someone, perhaps Jimmy himself, clicked jerkily at a type- writer. Just at the door Teddy Troup and Veva had halted, as if at the end of their Street of Stars. ‘Just a minute,” pleaded Teddy, his hand upon the door, ‘‘I want to show you something.” ° He was looking at her with the eyes of a dream lover. She went in ahead of him and sat against the-edge of a table. Blinds were pulled across the front windows; it was dusky and quiet here among the tables and chairs, empty, rested, deserted even of dreams. Veva's eyes were hyacinth above her frock, like a bridesmaid’s all soft mauve and bright blue, with a few pink-and-white sweet peas tucked in below her heart, holding up their heads as they do who are proud of service. Teddy put his hand beneath her chin, explored below the corner of her mouth with a manicured finger, knowing where the dimples should be.. ‘‘ What’s the matter, honey?” A faint little grin flickered out swiftly. ‘‘Blue, violet, indigo,” she said gravely. , “Not for long,” laughed Teddy with assurance. ‘For, speaking of blue ” he took from his waistcoat a square, dark-blue satin box, opened it and gave it to her. The dia- mond in its circle of frail gold was like a star against a little velvet sky. Hyacinth eyes dreamed over it, became slowly gray like the sky where the wind’s fingers touch it, awakening. “Keep it, honey?” whispered Teddy ardently. “May I shout it from the housetops to-morrow? Soon?” Veva shut the little box, put it back in his waistcoat pocket, her hands lingering into something like a little caressing pat. She shook her head with no finality. “All right. Your way this time. Your way for a while. Uncle Jimmy hasn’t been making love to you?’”’ She shook her head. ‘‘ Nor McGregor?” She laughed at that. ‘‘Then there’s no one in the race but me!” His arms reached for her swiftly. “No,” she whispered, her cheek against the rough fabric of his 7 “I guess—no one. Teddy, will it always be you and I?” “Sure,” confidently. She lay still then—light feet made to dance that were tired of dancing; soft hands that wanted other hands; the heart of a butterfly—and always was forever. The café was half lit, quiet, deserted even of dreams. “It’s nice to be loved,”’ she whispered finally and pushed him away. “Your way then,” he smiled. ‘‘ But not for long.” | Per three weeks Mac lounged and loafed, rested and ate, and slept half-heartedly. When he went back to work he was glad to be back, and everyone was glad to see him. All of them wanted to shake hands with him, and Veva gave him a smile when she first met his eyes that was worth hav- ing a nervous breakdown to win. He had been at work a week, a week of summer, lagging a little sadly before laugh- ing autumn; a week of golden skies, and clean, friendly winds; and all his dreams were renewed. With Saturday afternoon free he went down to the Yellow Moon for practice; Veva was there, and Meyers, and Jimmy Weeks looking troubled. Teddy Troup had been sick all day and “ The Butterfly ” would have to be cut for the night. He was heartsick, tired, homesick—there was a kid brother cut home who had been in the Argonne and whom he wanted awfully to see—sorry he had lost his grip for the look in a girl’s eyes, and—oh, hang everything, anyway! Mac wasn’t ashamed that he cried a little, quietly, nor ashamed when Jimmy Weeks sat down on the bed, put his arms round him and hugged him tightly. Jimmy was doing the only thing to do, and it gave hima fatherly feeling that made his heart very warm, be- sides soothing Mac so much that he dropped to sleep soon. HE doctor insisted that Mac stay in bed at least a week, and Mac never spent a more miserable week in his life, a week filled with the dull hurry and rush in the street below, terrible headaches and wondering if there was any- one in the world who cared. When he woke the first morning, Meyers, with whom he shared the small apartment, was coming in with a vase filled with pink- and-white sweet peas. With dark eyes dancing, he kidded Mac about his un- known admirer, and Mac’s heart went very light for a little while; he thought there was only one person in the world who would be that thoughtful. Every time the telephone rang he was alert with hope only to be disappointed, for most of the time it was Louise or Jimmy Weeks. The fact that fresh sweet peas came every other morning did not help; of course that was Jimmy or Louise too. He had not for- gotten; there would be no violets. In spite of himself he would get well. Before the week had gone his old despondency returned, at the end of it he sat list- lessly in a big chair by the window. The doctor rubbed his hands and smiled broadly, congratulating himself that he had Mac up so soon, and on the road to recovery. “Didn’t think it could be Eyes of bright brown cov- ertly swept a golden head. “Let me double for him,” said Mac, idly fingering the iano. “You? You can’t,” said Jimmy Weeks skeptically. “Show you,” challenged Mac. “Born in Missouri,”’ ad- mitted Jimmy. “ Meyers, handle the ivory a minute.” There was a subdued sparkle about Mac as he faced Veva—in his eyes— and the curve of a mis- chievous smile, even in his auburn hair. He was vivid, as if with the secret under- standing of a very good joke, which he would pres- ently make known. For just a moment Veva felt a little thrill, as though she had never known him be- fore. He had been telling the truth, he knew every step of the dance by heart, and then some; he was graceful, light upon his feet, quick, full of music, best of all he knew how to play. A pair of dawn-gray eyes were very wide. aa OU win;’ said Jimmy. “Think you can sing it too?” “Me? I’ve got a voice like a woodpecker. Just let me dance,”’ pleaded Mac. “‘Guess we could cut the song for once. That’s bet- ter than cutting the whole thing. Teddy’ll be on his feet to-morrow. Saint Peter’s cat! Wish I could think of something new for that dance; believe it’s los- ing punch. Veva, if you act as cold as that to-night I'll bill it ‘The Iceberg’!” threatened Jimmy. Cold? If he could have seen the girl’s face when, at nine o’clock, the orchestra began ‘Be My Butterfly,” Jimmy Weeks would have dressed himself in a pair of white wings and a pink bowknot in triumph. Rose lips with a new and un- expected curve in them, smoky lashes clouding twi- light eyes, she was not looking at Mac, but through him, beyond him; she looked that way at Teddy, eyes dreaming dreams— a butterfly playing the T summer away. done,’”’ he bubbled. “ Nerves all gone to heaven; “ What’s the Matter, Honey?” A Faint Little Grin Flickered Out Swiftly. “Blue, Violet, Indigo,” She Said CONTINUED ON PAGE 152

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HOME JOURNA| S GOLD STAR By John A. Moroso ILLUSTRATIONS BY FRANK E. SCHOONOVER et i ee “Would You Mind Going Through the General Delivery Letters Again?” Martha Asked Timidly. “I Don’t Know What Makes Padraic Carry On This Way” I HE sun and rain had faded the names on the Honor Roll in the little park about the village station, and time had taken some of the heartache from the mothers whose boys were left overseas. Martha Conroy paused before the painted board on her way to the post office across the railroad tracks. After the name of her son Danny was a new gold star, startling in its brilliancy of fresh laid-on gilt no less than in the message it carried that the Government had at last given him up as dead. For a moment her wrinkled face was drawn in agony. Then she smiled, put her hands to the white hair about her temples, touched her little black bonnet lightly, drew her shawl closer about her and continued her way in the shining morning. She stood apart from the eager young people awaiting the sorting of the mail, a patient little old figure, rather poorly dressed, but tidiness itself. “He isn’t dead,” she kept repeating to herself. ‘There may be a letter for me from my Danny this very day.” “Mail’s up!” came the cheery voice of Mr. Winkler, the postmaster. The crowd surged into the little clapboarded building. When the last of the eager ones. had departed Martha en- tered. ‘Anything for me to-day, Mr. Winkler?’’ she asked. \ , JITH great deliberation the postmaster went through the general delivery letters, his lean face reflecting the compassion in his heart. ‘‘ Nothing in this mail, Mrs. Conroy,” he said finally, smiling to her through the little window reassuringly. “Thank you.” “T’ll keep a sharp lookout for you right along,”’ he told her. “I’m going away for a few days to visit my mother, who isn’t very well, but before I go I'll have my substitute, Miss Allen, promise to keep a special watch for that letter and when it comes just stop everything and let you have it.” “That’s mighty kind of you, Mr. Winkler.”’ His generous attention sent her out into the sunshine again with some of the bitterness of her disappointment gone. A stout, smiling man of erty with an old derby cocked on one side of his head and a very small stub of a cigar held between his clean-shaven lips, hailed her as he got out of a buggy before the building adjoining. ‘ Mother Conroy!” he called. “‘Come up in my office a minute, please.” She followed him, entering a door on which was painted in black letters: ‘“‘Gerald Graham, Attorney at Law.” “They put the gold star after Danny’s name yesterday afternoon,” he began as she took a chair beside his desk. “Of course that means that the Government has listed your son as lost and will be ready to pay your insurance. I’il fill out the papers for you and hurry things along.” “But, Mr. Graham " she began. “There'll not be a cent of charge,” he interrupted. “And, by the way, Mrs. Graham wants you to come by this morning.

Her sewing has got ahead of her again. Besides, it’s baby things she’s making once more, and she’s sure there will be bad luck if Mother Conroy doesn’t fit out every little Graham with his first clothes.’’ His fat, kindly face was wreathed in smiles as he reached in a drawer of his desk and took out a bank book. ‘Look here,’’ he said. “If she pays you fifteen dollars this time it will make three hundred dol- lars in the bank for you.” “‘A good deal of money,”’ she agreed, ‘‘and I wouldn’t have a cent of it unless you had put it away for me. Nora would have spent it.” “Here it is, any time you want to use it. And the Govern- ment’s fifty a month will increase it.” “‘T couldn’t take that money,” she said slowly. ‘‘ Danny isn’t dead.” Graham stared blankly at his desk. “It’s been over two years since his ship went down,” he reminded her. “‘But there were others got ashore and Danny was a brave and strong swimmer,” she argued, her gray eyes brighten- ing. ‘‘The papers said the boat was torpedoed close to the Irish Coast and the survivors got into Donegal Bay. I was born in Donegal, you know. There are little islands off the shore there where the devout ones would go to live alone with God, in the old times. I’ve been over to one of them myself. He could easily reach land if others could. It was the heat in the boiler rooms where he worked and then the cold water. It made him hurt in his mind.”” Graham nodded silent encouragement. ‘‘My Danny has lost himself,” she continued. ‘‘He’s trying to get back to me right now. I know it, Mr. Graham. When he was thirteen years old the heat affected him and he forgot his name for two months. His father before him lost his name the same way, but it came back to him.” HE LIT a fresh cigar and puffed at it thoughtfully. The story had been told him half a thousand times since, in his friendship, he had felt it his duty to tell her that her boy’s ship had been sent to the bottom of the Atlantic within sight of her old country. But his patience was immeasurable and, though he knew that it would be better for her if she did not tie her hopes to such a slender thread, he had not the heart to argue against her. ‘‘ Yes,’ he sighed. ‘‘ There are many thousands missing. There is no telling.”” Then the smiles came back to his face. ‘‘ Lots of them will be showing up too,” he cried cheerfully. “And there’s no telling how many of the married ones are only too glad to be lost.” Mrs. Conroy did not return his enthusiasm. ‘“‘ My Danny would not do that,” she said firmly. ‘‘ Not so long as I lived to mourn him. He would not let mé suffer, although his wife was mean enough to him and to his old mother that bore him.”’ Two little red spots showed in her parchmentlike cheeks for a moment. A little spray of jet beads in her bonnet trembled. ‘I’m no backbiter,” she said after a pause, “but if ever a woman failed as a wife, Nora Con- roy has.” “Why don’t you come and live with us?”’ “Tf I did who would take care of the little place, the cow and the chickens and all? She wouldn’t lift her hand except to tie a ribbon for herself. And then there’s Padraic.” “Oh, you could bring him along, Mother Conroy. He’s a good dog and would have a grand time with the children.”’ “That he would, and myself in the bargain, but he’s waiting for Danny to come back. He’d never leave the place. Sure, Mr. Graham, it’s himself makes me feel that Danny is coming home. Never once has he grieved for the lad, but is always throwing up his nose trying to get his scent, and sometimes he looks puzzled as if my boy was somewhere close to us, wondering why he doesn’t hurry up and come home.” “You think he smells Danny?” asked Graham wonder- ingly. TY don't think anything, Mr. Graham,” she replied. ‘‘I’m only telling you what I see with my own eyes. And when he goes on like that he’ll come whining to me as if to ask me what’s the matter.” “Maybe it’s Danny’s spirit.” “No; my Danny’s living. Thank God, he’s living.” II ISS LAVINIA ALLEN, a spinster well-advanced in years, tackled the Monday-morning mail, which was unusually heavy. Mr. Winkler from long experience knew how to command a certain degree of decorum in his crowded little office, a sharp rap with his knuckles on the ledge of his little window generally being sufficient to bring to a state of comparative quiet the giggling, laughing boys and young women. But Miss Lavinia could not thus manage them, ahd the noise nearly drove her frantic as she untied the bundles of letters and sorted them, her mind all the time on the out- going mail which was only half ready for the yawning bag hung from a hook at the left of her table. There were murmurs of complaint from commuters on their way to the city. The village faultfinder stuck his face in the window, saw the confusion of the poor creature, sucked his teeth quite audibly and went away growling and shrugging his shoulders. He was a successful man, a self- made man, and Miss Lavinia feared him. Her tired features became red with embarrassment, which increased to a point of panic when she began to hand the letters to the waiting ones and found that she had made many mistakes, putting a letter for Virgie Hall in the mail box of Virginia Hally, one for Farmer Conly in the box of Mr. Connolly, the grocer, and so on: : At last she got them all out of the place and, with her drab hair wet with perspiration and her hands trembling like two autumn leaves, started to tackle the outgoing mail.

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1g id er April, 1920 “Anything for me to-day, Miss Allen?’”’ Mrs. Conroy’s little black bonnet showed in the window. The old lady’s blue eyes were bright with eagerness, shining like twin stars. Behind her a great shaggy dog, his heavy black pelt streaked with brown at saddle and brisket, barked long and loudly, startling Miss Lavinia. “Could you keep him quiet, ma’am?”’ asked the post- mistress. ‘‘ My nerves are going to pieces.”’ Mrs. Conroy reached down and patted her dumb friend as Miss Lavinia went through the general delivery letters. “There’s nothing, Mrs. Conroy,” she said. As Martha started to turn from the window Padraic got his forepaws to the ledge and barked furiously. Miss Lavinia with tears in her eyes lifted her hands in protest and begged his mistress to take him away. “Would you mind going through the general delivery letters again?”’ Martha asked timidly. “I don’t know what makes Padraic carry on this way. He never barks unless he wants to tell me something. Never. He’s such a good dog. Danny trained him from a puppy.” ‘tYes, yes.’’ She ran hurriedly through the letters again. “There is nothing for you.” “How long will Mr. Winkler be gone?’’ The old lady was loath to depart and, try as she could, she could not get Padraic to be quiet. His long, deeply feathered tail wagged violently as he looked first to her and then to the worried woman on the other side of the window. “I don’t know,” replied Miss Lavinia. ‘‘He had to leave in a hurry last night. His mother has had a bad spell.” She returned to her cluttered table. Instead of hurrying back to her little farmhouse to tackle the heavy day’s work before her, Martha remained on the porch of the post-office building in the sunshine, Padraic crouched at her feet, whining from time to time and looking up to her with feverishly bright yellow eyes. ‘““T don’t know what to make of him,’’ she thought. ‘‘He’s never followed me before unless I told him to. It’s a message from Danny he’s trying to give me.” Across the tracks she could see the new gilt star shining brightly in the sunshine. Wl OCTOR WARD, the well-beloved of the county, got out of his automobile and emptied his letter box. ‘I’m go- ing up your way, Mother Conroy,” he hailed. ‘ Jump ir. It will save you a good mile and a half. Paddy will follow.” She hesitated, but the lift was a great temptation and she got into the car. Paddy ran ahead and her mind came to ease. “One of your neighbors was stricken last night,”’ the phy- sician informed her. ‘Peter Conly. I warned him that the farm was too big for him. But he said he couldn’t afford to pay the wages now. It’s his second stroke of paralysis, and I’ll be mighty lucky if I pull him through.” “And he a poor bachelor!” exclaimed Martha. “He might die there alone.” “‘I’ve ordered the hospital ambulance to meet me at his place, and Mr. Winkler’s boy is going to look out for the stock for him while he’s gone.” He stopped the machine at a little lane leading to her cot- tage and, with a smile in acknowledgment of her thanks, left her with the panting and subdued Padraic. Although the new gold star at the station officially marked the beginning of Nora Conroy’s widowhood, she was off to the city when Danny’s mother entered their HOME JOURNAL. little cottage. She had been working as a typist for a year, and the rush and bustle, the badinage, the movies and perhaps the cabarets at times were the breath of her life. She had worn mourning for only a short time after her hus- band was first reported missing. It did not become her. Martha cleaned the breakfast dishes after her, fixed a crock of water for Padraic and took her sewing toa window in the front room. The wings of advancing spring stirred the scrim curtains filled with sunshine, rolling them softly in and out of the casement like a soundless surf. Except for the little time she spared to visit the post office, her needles flashed there from early morning until dusk, when it was time to bring the cow from pasture and milk and feed her, a task she managed as if she were a girl of twenty with a light heart instead of a woman of sixty with a great grief. At five o’clock in the afternoon she made herself a pot of tea and talked with Padraic. Sometimes she had a little cry, which brow ght relief to the pain in her mother’s heart, Padraic pressing his muzzle in her lap and sweeping the floor with his tail in a dumb effort to comfort her. “He'll be coming home, Padraic,’’ was her invariable conclusion as the waning light warned her of the close of another day. ‘‘And you'll be dashing across the fields and down the lane to jump up on him and kiss his dear face. That you will, Paddy.” HE put up the tea things, and they left the house. The cow was lowing in the distance. Overhead, the westering sun touched with purple and gold and pink a flock of little clouds shepherded against the fathomless blue of the sky. Under her feet wild violets peeped from the young grass and here and there the gold sparks of the first dandelions. Beyond her fair little field stretched the acres of Farmer Conly, half plowed. No twisting feather of smoke came from his chimney top above the shade trees. She could hear faintly the cheery whistle of Mr. Winkler’s boy as he cared for the stock of the stricken man. The cow greeted her with a reproachful bellow. “It’s a fine cow you are,” she said to the mildly staring Jersey, as she pulled up the iron stake and, carrying it as lightly as though it were a stick of kindling, walked beside her charge with Padraic at her heels. In all her sorrows and in all the bitterness of her daughter-in-law’s treatment of her, her sly Irish humor never quite failed to come to her aid. “So I'll just give you a kiss when we get to the shed and rob you, which is the way of God—and the way of men. And then by the time you’ve been kissed and robbed, dearie, Nora will be home with enough paint and powder on her face to suit any man with an eye for a pretty widow. Then she’ll kiss me and rob me of the insurance money the day I get it, if I decide to take it, and after that Michael Halloran will in turn kiss her and rob her if he can. So it goes.” The stars were twinkling between the little clouds when she took the pail of milk to the kitchen and strained it. The lamp in the front room was lighted and the little place rang with the laughter of her daughter-in-law. “‘She’s brought him home with her,’’ she muttered. Her cheerfulness, forced at best, departed her. A great dry lump formed in her withered yellow throat and she knitted her work-worn fingers together before her as she struggled to keep back the tears. It didn’t seem decent, this carrying on with Michael Halloran while Danny’s star shone so brightly and freshly on the Honor Roll. Now, she could safely marry him and she would. Michael would take her Danny’s wife and the little house he had worked so hard for, the pasture land so sweet in the springtime, his flocks of chickens and his cow and, perhaps, the very clothes of the lad, all folded away so carefully in his bureau. She mastered her emotion, put on a clean apron and went to the front'room. Her daughter-in-law, a pretty woman of twenty-two, was seated in her lover’s lap, her little feet cocked up to the level of the sofa, fires of excitement marking her features where the cosmetics had not been laid on thickly. Her black hair had become unfastened and de- scended to her shoulders like night falling upon snow-clad hills. Michael, a whale of a youth with a roving blue eye and weak lips, made no effort to release himself of his burden. Mrs. Conroy drew back in shame. ‘“‘Congratulate us, mother,” laughed Nora. “On what?” she asked weakly. “We've been married.” “Ts that so, Michael?” E NODDED, but the sadness in her face ‘must have stirred thoughts of hisown mother, for he}lifted Nora from his knees to a seat beside him and poured out a torrent of assurances that the future was bright and rosy for them all. “Next Monday,” he fairly shouted, *‘I’ll be going to work for the railroad. The job is positively promised and the brakemen get good wages now. The first pay will come the next week and then we'll have the wedding party.” “We're going to have a lot of boys and girls in for a little dance,’’ added Nora. ‘‘But that’s Easter week,’”’ Martha reminded them. The two stared at her blankly. She was a kill-joy. “Oh, but we’ve already invited the party,” cried Nora. “We can’t change the date now, can we?”’ ‘And the dance will be here? And you'll have music too?’’ “‘Sure we'll have music,’’ answered Michael. ‘‘Finnegan’s jazz band will be here.” “Not during Holy Week,” pleaded Martha. ‘But we’ve already invited everybody.’ Nora scowled at her mother-in-law, and Michael drew down a corner of his mouth in disgust at such a colloquy. Martha knew that it was hopeless to argue with them. They were young and in love, or thought they were. She gathered her sewing things from the table by the window. “T have a lot of work to do for Mrs. Graham,”’ she apologized as she started for the kitchen, her brimming eyes averted. “But we haven’t had any supper,” protested Nora. “Supper?” The poor soul seemed dazed. ‘‘Supper? Oh, I clear Feel about it. But I’ve got so much to do, Nora. Could you and Michael go to the restaurant in the village this evening? I’ll be lending you the money, dear.” She slipped a hand down in her rusty black waist and drew forth a shabby little pocketbook. ‘‘Here’s three dollars. Will that be enough?”’ Nora took it. “And I have three dollars meself,” laughed Michael Halloran. ‘‘Comeon, Nora. Clapon your hat. I’m starved.” IV ICHAEL’S job on the railroad did not materialize. It was just as well, he explained, for the men were talking of going on a strike before long. In the meanwhile he could make’ very good wages working for a friend in the village who kept a pool room and “‘speak-easy.”’ CONTINUED ON PAGE 124 “Let Out That Dog!” Ordered Michael. She Did Not Answer. “Let Out That Dog or I’ll Fire Through the Door!”

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pee gp a eS a ris gp ta ne 18 HOME JOURNAL April, 1920 HER LAST AFFAIR | By Du Vernet Rabell RS. PORTER RUTHERFORD DEY — Clemqntine—was singing softly as the car turned into Eighty-sixth Street. “C'est qu’au fond, tot, tout seul,” she sang, “tu me rends trés hereuse—mon ami, mon aimé ——” And then the car stopped, the chauffeur opened the door, and she skipped out and ran up the steps of her house. On the stoop she encountered her small son, his cap pulled down almost to his brown eyes, and the collar of his fur coat turned up almost to the tip of his small pink nose. “‘And whither away, my angel sunshine son?’’ Clemen- tine inquired. Her conversation ran to flowery flights when she was in high fettle, as she was to-day. Junior stopped and regarded her unwinkingly. “Huh?” he inquired; and was forthwith corrected by his nurse, a sedate English person wrapped in a somber cape and giving the impression of a staid gray hen. ‘Say ‘Pardon me, mother,’’’ she directed her charge; and he said it, and his mother laughed. “I asked where you were going.” A sudden smile lit Junior’s rather sober little face. ‘I’m going to the store to buy a boat; father gave me the money; it runs in the bathtub,’’ he answered and drew a deep breath. Junior was soft spoken and brown eyed—very like his father. Clementine took his hand. ‘Well, never mind that; I invite you totea. We will sit on the couch, and you ma FS “T am going to buy a boat; father gave me ” Junior interrupted firmly. “Oh, you can buy that to-morrow,” she told him. But Junior was of a mind to attend to his purchase that day. His mother pulled his hand, but he grasped the railing with the other and held on. ° “Oh, Junior!’’ Clementine’s voice was sweetly plaintive, and her soft blue eyes affected reproach. But she really wasn’t reproachful, because she was so sure of getting what she wanted in the end. And she wanted Junior to come in and have tea with her. ; But in spite of his nurse’s admonitions and his mother’s wiles, Junior continued to decline the honor, and when a scene threatened, right on her own doorstep, Clementine gave up with a quick little angry shrug. At the foot of the steps Junior turned to wave a pudgy hand, showing there was no hard feeling on his part, but his mother didn’t acknowledge his farewell. Clementine never rclished coming out second best. HEN she walked into the drawing-room, the edge of her high spirits slightly dulled, she saw her husband turning from the window. She stopped and bit her lips. She wondared how much he had witnessed of the scene outside. “You are home early,” she said. ‘Are you going to have tea with net I am honored.” Porter Dey came forward and helped fer off with her coat. ‘‘Yes, I am home a bit early; it’s Saturday, you know.” He drewa chair up to the tea table. ‘Is this too close to the fire?”’ Clementine shook her head a bit absently. She glanced at Porter quickly. She wondered again if he had seen and—if he had seen—if he had understood the scene on the doorstep. She hoped not. It was a small mat- ter, but still——- Clementine didn’t wish to have Porter a witness to one of the rare oc- casions where her charm, her tact, her cleverness failed to carry all before it. She never rmitted Porter to associate er with failure. And the prin- cipal reason for this was that Porter himself represented Clementine’s biggest failure. ORTER DEY had married Clementine Duryea at the end of her first season. He was a man of culture and education who had traveled largely; he could listen intelligently, hav- ing plenty of imagination and sympathy, and on occasion he talked well, but he wasn’t showy. Still there was some- thing about him—you couldn’t exactly give it a name—that expressed power as truly as a perfectly tuned motor running in neutral. Clementine’s mother, a lady of much worldly experience, was the first to mention this to her daughter. “‘ My dear,” she told Clemen- tine, “the ways of love are strange and inscrutable. You are pretty, clever, and you wear your clothes asa rose its petals, but what attracted Porter De to you is more than I can say.” ILLUSTRATION BY JAMES H. CRANK “Well, it seems he was attracted,’’ Clementine laughed, holding up the three-carat solitaire to catch the light. “‘Um—yes.”’ Mrs. Duryea’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “*But, Clementine, let me tell you one thing. Porter isa man you'll never hold the hoop for as you have for the rest of them. And from now on you cease to be the star, and you become one of the supporting cast.” “What do you mean?” Clementine asked quickly. “Porter is a brilliant man; you are merely amusingly clever. The set that revolves about you, pets you, makes much of you, will bore him insufferably. He’ll stand them for a little while, but afterward = Clementine’s blue eyes with their amber-colored lashes splashed over with amusement and youthful assurance. ‘Porter loves me, and I love him,’’ she declared; ‘‘our friends will be the same, of course. He wants me to be happy; he wouldn’t think of asking me to give up my friends.” ‘Perhaps not,’’ Mrs. Duryea said, “but he is too big for your set.” Clementine didn’t believe this, however. no ee was married. And for the first year or two Porter went about with her, and was seemingly proud of her social attainments, her triumphsand of the attention that was always lavished upon her. Then, when Junior was two years old, he suggested that they give up the Wednesday Assem- blies—the Wednesday Assemblies, of which Clementine was the head! “T’m sick of all those people,” he said. ‘‘ When we want to dance let’s get a crowd we really like together and go off and dance with them.” Clementine was horrified. But she expected no trouble. She never dreamed but that, handled tactfully, Porter would be easy to manage. But he wasn’t. She coaxed; she reasoned; she wept; she even resorted to a scene, well conducted and repressed, but still a scene—all to no purpose. “Let Me Give You a Bit of Advice. You are Not a Good Loser; Don’t Start This” Porter was very nice about it; he was sorry she felt badly, but he maintained that, as his hours for amusement were few, he couldn’t afford to spend them with people who bored him to death. “Don’t you like to see me happy?’’ Clementine demanded. “‘Don’t you like to have people—people - “People make a fuss over you and hang on your slightest word?” Porter finished for her. ‘‘No, I don’t. Aside from my own view of the matter, I think all this social adulation is bad for you. It’s giving you a case of overdeveloped vanity. It’s getting to be that ‘the queen can do no wrong’ with you. You are pretty and very amusingly clever; but you are twice as amusing and interesting when you aren’t playing to the gallery. You are losing your natural charm and growing as artificial as an orchid.” He smiled and pinched her cheek. When he smiled that way one side of his mouth curved up more than the other; you had to look twice at his eyes to make sure whether he was smiling at you or with you. Junior had the same trick. Clementine had bitterly resented Porter’s attitude. She also bitterly resented his imperviousness to her wiles. She loved her court. She couldn’t—she just couldn’t resign her retinue of courtiers. What had Porter offered her in its stead? Nothing. Of course he had managed the whole thing badly; but then Porter Dey’s type of man is so often stupid where women are concerned. They take them too seriously or not seriously enough—something. S° THE Deys had drifted apart. Oh, nothing serious; there was no talk, and the drifting wasn’t Porter’s. The women said that Clementine was lucky to have such an indulgent husband, and the men—well, they didn’t say anything, because they didn’t know that anything was wrong. But Porter and Clementine didn’t go about much together. You see, Clementine couldn’t accept failure gracefully; she was a bad loser and, having failed to make Porter take his place as Clementine Dey’s husband, she separated herself from him as much as she could. His presence was a constant reminder that here she had failed. And she could not see where she had been in the least at fault. All she desired was to be the radiant star in her own littletheater; but Porter would always be the special one in the audience to whom she played; she wanted her small court; but Porter would be the favorite courtier. And he had no desire to be a courtier. Well, no mat- ter; there were plenty who did aspire to that honor. So she buried the memory of what she had hoped to have him away in a corner of her heart; but at intervals it would float across her mind like a strain of a song—a melody she had never quite mastered. LEMENTINE came out of a brown study to see her husband regarding her with a half smile on his lips. “You know,’ he observed reflectively, “T think we made a mistake in having your portrait painted as we did. I think in a suit and those sables—well, it’s too late now. Enjoy the concert?” Clementine handed him his cup. “Oh, yes.’”’ She smiled with sudden brightness. ‘ And my long campaign is finished. Martinesi said he would be charmed to play at my dinner. And,” she continued, anxious, as always, to impress the im- ortance of her triumph upon ies, “considering the fact that this is his first private ap- pearance, I feel quite entitled to a feather in my cap.” “Did you bring the thing to a successful conclusion this af- ternoon?” Porter asked. “Yes; after his concert.” She paused and her bright blue eyes softened. ‘‘Oh, Porter, his playing was wonderful. He played Rubinstein, and then Rachmaninoff’s Prelude; you could see the peasants in their dull-brown and purple smocks going into the church.” “And yet you say you don’t understand music?” Porter said. “T don’t; but that isn’t music; it’s the wind across the steppes, the ripple of the Volga.” R a moment she stared dreamily into the fire and then continued briskly: ‘‘It affected me very much, and so I talked to him very well later. I drove him to his hotel,’’ she explained. “ And after I left him I sang all the way home.” “you were frowning when you came in this afternoon.” CONTINUED ON PAGE 198 “And yet,” Porter suggested,’ Ap cert; car. we I oe you you 6) like afte now love “a0 #8 w a bas een ic 66) “ey way, “er that =a bad) I cas "" and ey that aig cab knov “7 «tg “yy tered Be “Cor often voice that | H: eit end o had « mean

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rw § = a April, 1920 THEY ILLUSTRATIONS BY W.B. KING A synopsis of the preceding chapters will be found on page 132. V MAILED my note about the anonymous parcels to Stephen f\|| Bond, and the next evening he ‘Ai entered the tube behind me. I || got a seat and he stood in front of me. ‘‘Has someone been both- ering you?” he demanded. “You received my note?” Nod “Yes,” he smiled. ‘The first I SS! ever received from you.” ‘“‘T hope you will not make it necessary for me to send any more.” “I'd work hard if I could think of some way,” he replied. “Mr. Bond,” I said in desperation, ‘‘I—I don’t think you are very kind.”” I’m afraid my voice trembled the slightest bit. His expression changed instantly to one of anxious concern. “I don’t want you to think that of me,’’ he said. “‘Then why do you act as you do?” “‘ Because you give me a chance for nothing else. I meant what I said the other night. I tell you it’s the truth that I’ve risked all i “‘Hush,’’ I warned as the man ahead turned. “‘Listen,”’ he pleaded. “If I am as you think I am, to know me better will only help you to hate me better. If you’d only let me see you now and then a S WE neared the next station I rose. If he was going to talk like this and I forced to listen, I certainly preferred the open street to a crowded car. I made my way out and he followed. When we reached the sidewalk he kept along by my side. “Mr. Bond,’ I said, ‘‘if you knew me as well as you ought to know me before saying the things you are saying you’d never say them.” ‘‘Wait a minute,’ he answered. ‘‘That sounds like a riddle or something.”” I made no reply and after two or three steps he burst out: “I get it now. You mean if I knew you I wouldn’t be in love with you.” “You wouldn’t think you were—you were “Can’t you say it?” “It sounds too absurd.” “It’s that word love you stumble over.” ‘Because I’m out of all sympathy with it.” “‘Have you ever been in love?” “No. And I don’t propose ever to be.” “You must have an idea behind that.” sat have.”’ “What is it?” “You have no right to question me in this way,’ I protested. “Then,” he said, “‘let’s go backa little. You said that if I knew you I wouldn’t be in love with you.” “‘T said you wouldn’t think you were.” “Put it that way if you wish, though hanged if I can see the difference.” “If you use a little sense you'll see a difference and go on about your business,” “You don’t mind making it easy for me to do that?” he asked. “Not if it will accomplish the result.” “Then why don’t you give me a chance to know you better?” “What?” I gasped at this unexpected ending. “‘So that I can come to my senses.” He had me all mixed up. That sounded like fair reasoning and yet I knew that somewhere it was all wrong. He was leading me into the very thing I was .rying to escape. “At the same time this arrangement will give you a chance to learn what a bad lot Iam,” he ran on. “In that way everything will be fine and dandy, and we'll all be happy—won’t we?” He was so ridiculous about it that to save my life I could not help smiling. In the meantime we had reached the apartment house where I was living, and I stopped. “If you go in there,” he said, “that’s the end of you for to-night—unless you come out again.” “Then,” I replied decidedly, ‘‘that’s the end of me.” “You wouldn’t have dinner with me somewhere?”’ “1? Have dinner with you?” “Tt might mark the beginning of our unhappy ending.” ‘There are simpler ways than that.” “What ?’’ “This—for example.” tered the building. Before the door closed behind me I heard his voice. “Connie,” he called, using the name as though it had been often on his lips. I did not look around, but all through the evening his voice kept ringing in my ears. It sounded strange to hear that name in his mouth. P VI | HAD prided myself on my ability to prevent any. man, either good or bad, from entering my life, and yet at the end of two months I was forced to admit that Stephen Bond had entered it. My attitude toward him had not in the meantime changed at all. I-still felt that he was a menace, I turned away from him and en- HOME JOURNAL 19 HO WALK IN DARKNESS: By Frederick Orin Bartlett “I Say That I Haven’t Anything in the World to be Sorry For, Except as You Make Me Sorry” a danger to be avoided. In fact, I was even more keenly conscious of that than ever because, from the beginning, he had been nothing but a disturbing element. There was not a day now but what, in one way or another, he managed to leave me in a predicament of some kind. I was no longer able to shut him out at night with the million others. I must needs always remain alert like a fencer. As a result of this I felt quickened in other directions. I could not relax over my sewing or my books in the evening, but found my thoughts wandering off at all sorts of diverse angles. I went back over mother’s life and on to Aunt Susan’s and then on to Alice Ralston’s. This left me restless, so restless that one night on the impulse of the moment I actually rang up Alice Ralston and asked myself down there todinner. She was delighted to have me come and said that Jim would meet me at the station. HE moment I hung up the receiver I felt ashamed and astonished. I could not imagine what had led me into so wild a plan, but it was necessary then to see it through. So I boarded the five-ten and went down there, Jim Ralston was as cordial as he could be, and I was left with a better impression of him than I had {ever had. He had risen now to the dignity of a fifteen-hundred-dollar car, so I gathered he must be prospering. The toot of the horn brought Rice to the front door, and she greeted me with open arms. ‘‘You handsome young spinster, you,” she cried. ‘‘This is a treat!” But all through the dinner I was conscious of the fact that she was probing for some sort of explanation of my strange conduct and I sat on pins and needles in fear lest she worm out of me something about Stephen Bond. In a way it would have been a relief to have poured the whole story into her ears except that the story really was slight, and she, | was sure, would make too much of it. Once, when we were alone for a few moments, she placed her arm about my waist and said: ‘Connie, dear, anything new?”’ “About what?” I asked. “About you?” “How could there be anything new about me?” “You're looking a wee bit younger than ever if that is possible.” “If you mean what I think you mean I’d be looking older,” I laughed. “Do I look older?” ““Not—in your way.” “ At fifty I'll be younger than you, if you don’t look out.” “At fifty I shan’t care if you are.” “IT shouldn’t want to believe that of you, because it would be terrible. It would mean you were almost dead.” “Caring keeps you young?” I exclaimed. “‘ And alive,”’ she answered. ‘‘Somehow, Connie, I haven't despaired of you yet. To-night is a good sign.” This showed, I thought, what false deductions it is possible for people to make. I had come down here not because I was unusually content, but quite unusually uneasy. I had come down here because in a way Stephen Bond had driven me out of my apartment. [If she thought that a good sign, she was sadly mistaken. UT if he had forced me to think more of him he had not succeeded in making me think any the better of him as far, I mean, as his nonsensical proposal went. To be sure, I had become more or less adjusted to his absurd actions and had become more or less accustomed to the man

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neg Nags i eae att ote ont ci wt SE 20 himself, so that the situa- tion was not quite so bizarre as at first. I began to think that, after all, there might be some sense in his sugges tion that perhaps the best way to reach an understand- ing would be for us to see more of each other. If I could make him see me as I saw myself, I felt quite sure his romantic interest would fade away, and I felt equally sure that I had only to allow him to talk long enough and he would reveal his true nature. Once that was accomplished, the mat- ter was settled. From one angle it looked like a topsy-turvy course of action, but the whole affair had been topsy-turvy from the beginning. Instead of concluding our acquaint- ance with a proposal of marriage he had started it that way. I had stopped trying to prevent him from accom- panying me home. It was no use. Short of calling in the police I had tried every device I could think of— even to remaining an hour late. O WHEN, one night, he asked me for the fortieth time to have dinner with him, I said sharply: ‘“ Very well, Stephen Bond. Per- haps that is the quickest way for me to make you understand.” “Fine,” he exclaimed. “To-night?” “Now. I will meet you here at the door in half an hour.” “T will wait where I am,” he answered. I went on upstairs, but I did not purpose to dress for him. If Feould have thought of some legitimate way of making myself distinctly un- attractive I’d have gone to that extreme. Of course I had to do my hair and make myself tidy as a mat- ter of common decency, but I did put on the most severe street costume I had and wore a veil. This adventure was in the nature of a novel experience, and I was not accustomed to novelty in my life. I'll admit that I felt somewhat startled and flustered. The only suggestion I made about our dining place was that it should be where there was no chance of my meeting anyone I knew. I was not, to be sure, taking a very big chance anywhere | might go, but the idea I wished to convey to him was that this was in the nature of a special arrangement and that I was not committing myself to the extent of seeming to be willing to appear in public with him and so of indorsing our friend- ship. But the idea, instead of hurting him, seemed to be one he fell in with almost too eagerly. He took me to a quiet hotel dining room within easy walking distance; a sober, old-fashioned sort of place where I found myself in the company of people who looked to be well-to-do, middle-aged visitors from prosperous country villages. I felt easy there at once, although it was not the type of place I should have expected him to select. ‘Mother and dad always stop here when they come to town,” he explained. I had never heard him speak of his parents before. As a matter of fact, I never connected him with relatives of any sort. He was to me an unrelated unity. |e roy I found myself at the end of three months, din- ing alone with Stephen Bond. The realization of my position brought the blood to my cheeks and made me more aggressive than ever. But if he noticed this he did not show it. He ordered the dinner and then, crossing his arms on the table, leaned toward me. ‘Do you know,” he said, ‘this is a great idea. It ought to help us both.” “T don’t think you need any help,” I returned. “I’m the one who needs it most,” he replied. ‘It’s not fun being in love with someone who isn’t in love with you.” “You mean it isn’t your usual experience,’’ I said bitterly. He smiled instead of frowning as I expected. “I didn’t mean just that, but—it’s quite true,’ he admitted. “What about those who did fall in love with you?” “Bless you, most of them are now in love with someone else or happily married,” he answered lightly. “And you, too, recovered pretty well,” I suggested. “Discharged as cured,”’ he nodded. “Then you ought to feel decidedly hopeful about this last venture,’’ I concluded. _ “If this were like the others I would,” he answered, “only it isn’t. I’ve always played a straight game, Connie Da- vison—and an honest one. I’m not boasting about it, but I havea right to say that much, And, looking you squarely in the eyes, I say that I haven’t anything in the world to be sorry for, except as you make me sorry.” ‘‘T fail to see where I am involved in your past.” “You aren’t. But you are involved in the present. And you are in the future. I want to play for keeps this time.” “I’m no gambler.” “Little woman,” he said,-“‘you can’t help gambling. You’re gambling now, only instead of betting on me you’re betting against me.” HOME JOURNAL “No, Stephen,” I Said, “You'll Neither Make Me Safe Nor Altogether Happy” “I’m not betting at all. I’m merely judging what is best for my own welfare.” “That’s only another way of putting it. There’s just as much chance that you’re wrong in your judgment as though you flipped a coin.” “Then that holds for you too,” I returned. “Ina way,” he admitted; ‘‘only I’m willing to take that chance.”’ “You haven’t as much at stake.” “T’ll put up all I have.” I was glad when dinner was served because it helped to interrupt, and that was my only protection in arguments of this sort. Stephen never persuaded me that he was right, but he always placed me in such a position that I could not explain where he was wrong. If, however, his attention could be diverted for a moment he would as likely as not forget what he had been saying and start off-on a new tack. After the soup he said: “I’ve come to believe a lot in luck since being in the air.” I think I must have questioned him, although I do not remember; but little by little he began to unfold to me some of his experiences on the battle front. It was the first time I had ever heard these things from a man who had actually lived through them. I must have listened eagerly, because I have no recollection of the remainder of the dinner. I sat there feeling at times as though I were by his side above those turbulent fields of France, risking my life as he was risking his. And, strangely enough, for one of my temper- ament I was thrilled by it. When he described one of his flights from the time he sighted a Hun squadron of five and, instead of turning for home, plunged into the midst of them, I found my breath coming short. It was a daredevil thing for him to attempt, with the chances a thousand to one against him, but he sent two of them down and the others into flight. Merely to hear him tell about it was enough to make one breathe faster, and yet he told the tale simply and without raising his voice. H« WAS sitting opposite me, this man who had done these things, and I felt proud of him. For the moment I felt proud of myself just because I was with him. No wonder that after such experiences he could speak calmly of taking chances. If danger led to such breathless moments, it was almost worth facing. When I was brought to such a conclusion as that, it is clear I was not altogether normal. I wasn’t. And, what is still more abnormal, I took a curious sort of pleasure in the fact. I felt quickened all over. The lights in the room burned brighter, and then an orchestra in another part of the hotel began to play. I received a keenly emotional reaction. For the time being I was swung into the mood of Stephen Bond and found myself talking easily with him without either self-consciousness or aggressiveness. Taking him in this way, he was fascinating. April, 1920 It was after nine o'clock before I came to myself. Then I rose abruptly. He did not protest, but helped ine into my things. 1 don’t remember that we talked very much on the way home, but before he left me he said: ‘‘I call that a pretty good beginning, Connie Davison.” “Oh,” I answered. “TI don’t know! I don’t know!” For once he did not enter into a discussion, but held out his hand. I took it and felt his fingers close firmly over mine. ‘Good night,” he said. “Good night,” I answered in a voice that did not sound like my own. I hurried up to my room and sank into my rocker. What had I been doing? Into what was I being led? VII F Pl ann that evening when Stephen Bond took me adventuring with him over the fields of Flanders, I was never able again to settle down in my little apartment with the same sense of satisfaction in my comfortable security. After every meeting with him following this that dis- content grew. I listened to him, fascinated, as little by little he took me back over his career, so vivid in con- trasts, so rich in action, so dramatic as compared with my own. Never had a gage been thrown down before him that he did not snatch it up. Never ceived a challenge that he did not accept. He had gone through life with his head upand his shoulders squared and with his eyes smiling at danger. It was this spirit, I gath- ered, which had governed his relations with women. He was as frank about admit- ting these affairs as he was about the other chances he had taken. I found myself accepting them in the same spirit. “T haven’t anything to conceal, Connie,” he said. “‘T couldn’t meet your eyes if I had.” And I believed him. Stephen Bond was truthful, whatever other faults he may have had. We were dining together pretty often now. I don’t know how it came about except that it seemed a perfectly natural and innocent way of spending our evenings. He was as good company as anyone could ask for, the better as one knew him better. I realized this when, seized by some conscientious scruple, I determined that our meetings were becoming too frequent and I decided to decrease them. “Three evenings a week is quite often enough for me to be out,’’ I informed him. “From your point of view, you mean.” “From any point of view.” “Not from mine, Connie. “You are never satisfied.” “T shan’t be until I have all of you,” he answered. “If you talk like that I shall come even less,’”’ I threat- ened. For the last month he had been quite temperate in his language, and this had helped to restore my confidence; but whenever he did break out with a phrase like that, it brought back all my old fears. He pleaded hard with me to come with him this evening, but I was obdurate and went up to my apartment. I want you every evening.” | pang an hour I busied myself about my tasks and managed to get along very comfortably, but when I came to sit down I was uneasy. I picked up my sewing and then a book and then my sew- ing again, but I could not interest myself in either. Every now and then my thoughts would go back to Stephen Bond, but when they did I started some fresh task. Among other things I wrote a letter to Aunt Susan, although, I fear, a very stupid one. Everything I undertook seemed stupid, and yet these were the same interests which up to now had kept me satisfied. Meantime nothing had been changed that I could see. Only—only after fighting over Flanders, these things I was doing seemed such little things. I grasped at that as a possible solution. It was just a matter of contrast. For weeks I had been listening to a man who all his life had been playing fast and loose with his own safety, until for him the word danger did not exist. This spirit had led him into many strange bypaths and over the ocean and up in the air and back again over the ocean to me—the while I was cautiously picking my way around the untroubled little circle I had established for myself. The things I had been doing seemed such little things! They were such stupid things! They were such safe things! Day after day they were always the same. I had arranged it so. I had planned the months ahead and the years ahead. I could depend upon my days, because I had only myself to depend upon. Well, why not? What had come over me this evening that I was thinking any differently? I was not yet sure that I was. Only all my chosen surroundings had suddenly CONTINUED ON PAGE 120 had he re-, tingl Th aisles chrys and | ing a a fast Empi full, v delig! La: her a offeri hand: card, grant the tc Th advar boson move: plause saw h sweep Anc spicuc “Hav RY , OV traines knewt the su record

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at- his ut rht me to April, 1920 HOME JOURNAL 21 ~ FROM HOPELESS SOIL By Svetozar ‘Tonjoroft JER voice sank into a sob | and the sob died in a sigh | at the end of Borodin’s “The Sea.”’ John Fenton | roused himself as one who awakes | from a dream, to find the eyes of the singer resting upon his with a look of i} eager questioning. They seemed to j| be saying: “‘ Did I do it well, master?” The answer came from the crowded auditorium with the rushing crash of a Black Sea wave, the sea of which Borodin wrote, against a Crimean cliff. It sprang from the floor, leaped up to the balconies and surged against the light-studded ceiling in vast volumes of applause that made Fenton’s blood tingle and sent the flush of pride to his finely cut features. Then he saw a squad of ushers advancing down two aisles to the front of the platform with armfuls of yellow chrysanthemums, pink and purple orchids, oxeye daisies and laurel leaves. As the procession continued, amid swell- ing applause that seemed to rock the house, he watched with a fast-beating heart the tall, lithe figure of Alice Hilton in her Empire gown of heavy blue velvet, her arms held out, her full, warm lips parted in a breathless smile of wonder and delight. Last of all came a modest sheaf of red.roses. These, while her accompanist helped the ushers to bank the rest of tHe offerings along the front of the stage, she received with hands outstretched. Glancing at the writing on the attached card, she turned a swift look to Fenton, pressed the fra- grant loveliness to her lips for a moment and laid them on the top of the piano. Then, in response to the continuous tumult, he saw her advance to the edge of the platform, her hands upon her bosom, and bow her acknowledgments with a gracious movement, saw her retire from the platform while the ap- plause continued like the endless clamor of Borodin’s sea, saw her return, bow her smiling thanks again with a low- sweeping movement, retire once more and return again. And as she bowed for the last time she sent him an incon- spicuous, but unmistakable glance, still as if she were saying: “Have I done well, master? Has my début been a success?” Y THE wave upon wave of friendly feeling that swept over the vast assemblage, but chiefly by his own highly trained sense of the real in music and in voices, John Fenton knew that Alice Hilton’s initial bow asa public performer was the success of the season, a success worthy to be entered on the records of the temple of music in which he had introduced 7, : tb Mie pate ey See "Is it Permitted Me to Ask Why You Saw Fit to Subject Me to the Humiliation of This Recital?” ILLUSTRATION BY JAMES H. CRANK her, with the stamp of his judgment and = In to the city of her birth and his. And the pride that goes with supremely good workmanship glowed warm in his heart, pride that to him had been given the high privilege of adding a great singer to the company of the world’s great singers, pride that his skill, his knowledge and his sympathy had developed a voice that would make thousands thrill to a new magic. And with that pride, mingled with gratitude, went an- other emotion—the emotion that a weary man feels when he is nearing home, when he sees the light of welcome burn- ing in the window at the end of the long, dark road. For, in the four years during which he had been imparting the secrets of her art to her, she had grown very close to him, closer than any human being he had ever known. But as he thought of that phase of their contact a cold hand seemed to be laid upon his heart from out the distance of the years, the same cold hand that had awakened him out of warm and fragrant dreams in all the years during which he had devoted his efforts to the achievement of the triumph that was hers to-night. OMETHING of the coldness that had come over him must have been reflected in his manner when he met her in the wings after the last note of her last encore had died out, and she had bowed her farewell to the lingering audi- ence that had stamped her with its ardent approval and had determined her future as an artist beyond the power of jaundiced critics to mar or to qualify. For as he took both her outstretched hands in his, she suddenly withdrew them with a look of pain, as if her soul had winced. “John,” she murmured in a breathless undertone, ‘“ you are not pleased. I have failed.” “Failed, Alice! Failed? You have made the success of the season. I did not know it was in you to sing as you did. You sang as a woman whorhas reached the heights and sounded the depths of life. You never sang like that be- fore—never.” A flush came into her cheeks. him as if to hide her deep feeling. He carried first one hand and then the other to his lips with a reverent movement and spoke again with a husky voice: “Donna mia, the house hung upon your notes. You sang ‘The Sea’ as it never was sung before. The laugh of the She looked away from seagulls was in it, and the roll of waves, and the sough of receding breakers, and the call of lost voices through sea mists. Failed? Oh, my dear, my dear!’’ He saw the light of her blue eyes dimmed by a rush of tears—happy tears—and he heard her say in a whisper: “T owe it to you—all to you—master.’’ And then: “Take me away, please. I am so tired, and I don’t want to talk to anybody.” He hurried her up the flight of iron stairs to the artists’ room, bundled her into her wraps, piloted her through the crush of the hangers-on at the stage entrance to the tem- ple of music and fairly lifted her into the taxicab into which the ushers had piled the floral offerings. As the cab sped noiselessly through the frosty landscape of the park, he felt the light touch of her gloved hand upon his arm and heard her voice: ‘‘Then tell me, John, why you were so—so cold when you met me.”’ “‘Never mind to-night, Alice. You are tired’; and he patted the hand that rested on his arm reassuringly, as he might have stroked the hand of a child. Suddenly, with a movement that was almost brusque, she withdrew her hand. ‘‘ When will you tell me what it is, then?” she said in a voice that had a note of coldness in it. He looked into her face. Her eyes were fixed stonily at the snow banks piled up along the driveway. He did not answer her question. J the entrance to the apartment house he bade her good night. But she would not have it. ‘‘ Please come up,” she pressed him with an intentness that did not escape his fine sensibili- ties. He went up in the elevator with her. ] 5 potas the glowing fire in her studio she stood for a moment shivering, then flung her wraps off, gave them to her maid, told the woman not to sit up, sank into an arm- chair, pointed to the other armchair in the light of the flames from the cannel coal, and said, with a note of pleading: “Now, John, what is it?” John Fenton took the proffered seat with a sinking heart. He took out a cigar, lighted it, puffed at it for a few moments to gather his distressing thoughts together, cleared his throat and began: ‘“‘Alice,.did you know that I—that I came into very close contact with your father a few years before he died?”’ She drew a sharp breath, gazed at him for a lon and evaded a direct answer to his question. she replied in a calm voice. before?” silence “Did you?” ‘“Why haven’t you told me CONTINUED ON PAGE 146

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Cte mr pean edininad ai, aa Cn en en en ato ip

nan ie, he he f KA ‘I IATA NOME JUURINAIL April 192

The Two Stood Staring at Each Other as if They Saw Ghosts, While the Whole Room Watched the Play HE Dufferin Terrace seethed that August evening. It was the night of the military band, a hot and languorous night. At the farther end of the terrace, beyond the electric lights and the stream of people, up the shadow of an escarpment to the King’s Bastion, the Citadel loomed impregnable and menacing. Below, the St. Lawrence flowed black. Upon its dusky bosom the little ferry glowed like a cluster of fireflies, moving lazily across. Lifted out of the level of the eddying crowd by reason of his height and personality, a young man towered. He looked like an old young man, as indeed he was. Upon the countenance of Robert Tracy power and mystery, patience and rebellion fought. But the characteristics that made the quick French natives stare were the sad eyes that could not lie and the mouth that bespoke fidelity beyond torture unto death. They did not look upon him asa tourist. In- deed this son of good old New England stock seemed to him- self to have been flung upon this brilliant terrace only to feel as strangely at home as he was alone. Leaning far over the railing he tried to pierce the foot of the cliff and, in spite of its being his first night in Quebec, he had a curious sense of familiarity. What had driven him to Quebec? Its history? No. Its beauty? No. He had simply drifted; nay, he had been impelled, as if some ghostly forefather, of whom he knew not, had beckoned him to the seat of some ancestral glory. So Robert Tracy peered and dreamed and felt soothed and was glad that he had come into this unknown land for his first vacation since he had left college. " een, a soft voice interrupted his reverie, “is it not beautiful?” Robert Tracy turned to the figure beside him. Against the electric lights of the neighboring kiosk he saw the sil- houette of a priest. He was an old man. Robert -bowed courteously. “Yes, indeed!’ he answered rather lamely. “‘M’sieu is a stranger,’”’ the priest went on in his liquid English. ‘‘When the good God made the world He took the most beautiful water, the stateliest precipices, the richest lands and made them into the valley of the St. Lawrence and Quebec. I have lived here seventy years, and it is the heavenly kingdom.” “T can easily believe it,’’ Robert smiled. It seemed so natural, almost as if he had dreamed the priest. ‘I have only two weeks to see Quebec, but I feel somehow as if I had been here before. Could you tell me, father, what I should see first ?”’ “Let us walk, my son.’’ The old priest took the young man by the arm as if he had known him all his life. ‘‘ They call me Father Sillery.” OBERT returned the introduction. ‘I was christened Robert Tracy. I come from Boston. It is my first visit, and I am staying at the Chateau. What must I see first ?’’. “Tf you area Tracy,” the father looked up at his tall com- panion keenly, ‘‘and by your face I think you are, you must visit first La Bonne Sainte Anne.”’ “What is that? And why do you think I ama Tracy?” “Tut, tut; not so fast, my young friend! In youth the blood is hot, and questions flow like the falls of Montmo- rency. Know you not that your portrait is in the Govern- ment House, and that Sainte Anne de Beaupré is the Mecca of a million pilgrims, who believe in the divine efficacy of the Mother of Mary to restore the lame?”’ Robert Tracy’s heart gave a great leap. ‘‘The Mother of Mary!”’ his lips repeated reverently, but his blood pounded “Marion Moore— Marion Moore.” ““M’sieu Robert Tracy’’—Father Sillery’s benign face turned toward the tall young man with a look of mystic tenderness—“‘it is not now a long step between August in 1666 and August in 1911—only two hundred and forty-five periods, and you have bridged it this day.” “I do not understand,” Robert answered dully. ‘It’s too deep for me.” “The good God does not give to all understanding quickly,”’ Father Sillery replied slowly; ‘‘not even to the Marquis de Tracy, your ancestor, did he give the power of seeing the future, when that noble officer on the seventh of August in 1666 came to the Church of Sainte Anne to fulfill the vow he made when in danger of shipwreck. When he presented to Sainte Anne the great painting of Lebrun, did he foresee that you would worship at the same shrine?”’ Robert Tracy flushed. He felt as if he were drawn into a net from which he must escape. ‘‘ But, father,” he protested, “you do not seem to know that I am by no means sure that the Marquis de Tracy is my ancestor.” “Come and see!”’ answered the priest in a ringing voice. ““When?”’ What was that within him that made Tracy say that ‘‘When’’? “To-morrow morning,” answered Father Sillery without hesitation. ‘I will call for you at half past eight. We will take the nine-o’clock train with the other pilgrims. You can- not start too soon. And now, my son’’—the priest almost made the sign of the benediction when he said ‘‘my son”— “it is au revoir until to-morrow.” With a stately bow the man of God had gone, and Robert leaned over the terrace—as he had done before, alone. T THE age of fourteen ‘‘ Bob” Tracy entered the high school of one of the historic suburbs of Boston. He was dark, spindling, active. When others laughed he was silent; and when you could hear a pin drop he sometimes burst into boisterous laughter. Asthere was apparently no reason for such a violation of the common understanding, Bob was not popular. If he had not been a brilliant runner and football player he would have gone through high school and entered college life with a minus sign. In the same class was a blond, happy girl. Marion Moore was one of a large family, and she was the life of her class. She was the kind—teeming with health and good nature— that is foreordained to popularity. The girls worshiped her, and it was her fault if she walked home alone from school. Bob did not know how to make himself agreeable to the girls, as he had no sisters and only a sick mother. And Marion was piqued at the start because of his aloofness. S0 the four formative years passed. Marion graduated in white muslin and blue ribbons, the president of her class, the most loved girl in the school. Bob graduated full of athletic and literary honors, the editor of his class paper. By this time he was popular with the teachers, but not with the boys. In that happy children’s class, trooping through the portico of life, Bob and Marion seldom met or spoke. Wistfully they eyed each other in the distance, intimate with eac other’s work, ignorant of each other’s heart. Marion went to a great girls’ school and, as was expected, she became the idol of her new class. Bob entered his father $

colle hill < whic this F¢ swar excl haus had worn ot th and W same } 1 d ] sight They happ N se] Beta t it wl . Ca atu pupUu very was kind, Tk shad each new mont They mott unde TI and In ti; TI refus

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igh yas nt; rst son yas ind ool ore ~— ier, the ind rite ost and ime ys. HCO ally ach ed, er's By Herbert D. Ward HOME JOURNAL ILLUSTRATIONS BY WALTER BIGGS 3 As the Child Could Not Kneel, it Had Been Tenderly Lifted That it Might Kiss the Reliquary college on the other side of the river, situated on a beautiful hill amid that rolling, sumptuous New England scenery than which there is nothing more stimulating and beautiful on this side of Paradise. For a year the two did not meet. Bob was now six feet, swarthy, walked like a panther, had made one of-the most exclusive secret societies and had formed the habits of ex- haustive work. His eyes were luminous, and his-mouth had that purity that begets instantaneous confidence among women. Bob was not popula. / tit was looked upon as one Ol the coming and solid men of his class. In track athletics and football his was a name toe conjure with. When the two young people met—members again of the same class, but of a different college—it seemed as if they had never looked at each other before. It was love at second sight —at insight; but they did not know it or realize it. hey were only children, and all they knew was that it was happiness to be together. N THEIR senior year everybody saw it except them- selves—they were so happy and so blind! Bob made Phi Beta Kappa because she... incu shat the key looked dis- tinguished; and Marion achieved the Senior Dramatics ‘vecause Bob assured her she could act. It was a beautiful atural idyl the children lived. Bob became human and popular, and Marion grew more and more lovely. She was very tall. She came to Bob’s chin, and at twenty-two she was a magnificent woman, an old-fashioned, tender, homy ind, too rare in this age of dress competition. The night of Class Day—wher. the grove was brilliant and shadowed, when the graduates’ booths glowed and when each senior had his especial ¢'rl— Bob told Marion the old new story, and they agreed to let no one know for two months, until Marion’s father came back from Europe. They hardly had time for the “hal kiss when Marion’s mother espied them in the st With a happy look of understanding they formally rod night. The next day Marion was : i out of her mother’s car, and the doctor said she nev ould walk upright again. In time she might limp on her . « ., but always witha crutch. That summer was torm for Robert. He wrote and she refused to see him; and he did see her, stony and cold in her misery, she sent him away. “Never will L.marry you,” she said, ‘‘ while | am lame like thief 1 wéuld not be a drag on a man I loved.” But who cares? I don’t. It’s you I always. wanted, Marion. I didn’t know it 'way back in the-high school, but I kn6w it now. You wouldn’t go back on me now!”’ rhe girksighed. “It’s no use, Bob,” she said, looking bravely inté.his eyes. “‘I won't marry you as I am; and | won't marry anyone else, if that will comfort you. You had better go to work and forget all about me!”’ “Ts this final?"’ Bob asked with a hard chin. “Tt is final,”” answered Marion. ‘If he would only take me into his arms!” she thought. But the boy, ignorant of the heart of a woman when she loves supremely and prays that her ‘‘nay’’ may be kissed into a “yea,” simply said: “All right then, Marion’; and turned his back asd went, : But the picture of her helplessness went with him and kept torturing bis with his own helplessness. So he became a galley slave in a‘great factory. He began at the bottom like a day laborer. One rung after another of the ladder of achievement yielded to his reach. He was fast arriving, but in the process he had become old while he was yet young. That was three years before. The only epoch in his drone life was when a fellow worker called him “ Bob.”’ Then he knew he was “ making good.” At that while Marion Moore waited for a “‘sign.’’ She was ignorant of a man’s heart as he was of a woman’s. To have him swoop down upon her and kiss her “‘no”’ into a stifled ‘‘yes’’ was her dream. But Robert was the sentinel of the honor she imposed upon him, and in the hopelessness of his submission his jaw was becoming lean and canyoned on both sides; his eyes were sinking, and his hair was being whipped with white. That night he tossed and moaned under the subconscious visions that Father Sillery had called up. He saw proces- sions of lame, and their misery caused him to awake with a sweat of anguish. What a joy was the dawn!, Its rosy fingers swept away the blackness with its horrors and perils and soothed him into a soft trance. In thisa gentle woman seemed to bend over him and bless him. Thereupon he fell iffion his knees and bowed his head and prayed in a whisper that seemed to reverberate over the whole world. Then the beneficent vision bent, and the hot tear that fell upon his neck awoke him into dazed consciousness. Where was he? Ah, yes; Quebec; and Father Sillery was coming at half past eight! T WAS indeed a pilgrimage. The splendid panorama that is constantly unfolding from Quebec to Sainte-Anne- La Canardi4re, Charlesbourg, the twin spires of Beauport, L’Ange Gardien, Chateau Richer, the falls of Montmorency, wr radiating river; ae eeving ae hg were blotted out vef wre Pe ay oe of human suffering with which he was surrounded. Ané@ withal eyes that were sunkeri with a life- time of anguish were Row brilliant with a hope and a faith that were 'rretigtibie. Directly in front of him reclined a boy of nineteen) "P"ompanied by two older brothers who had lifted him og the train. His body was gnarled with spinal disease. Forthim to be able to climb a stair seemed a physical miracle. And yet with severe contortions and with sweat pouring from his face he squirmed along the aisle until he dropped into his seat almost vn a dead faint. “My son,” Father Sillery whispered, ‘last year at this time the boy made a pilgrimage to La Bonne Sainte Anne. He was carried ona stretcher, as he had not walked since he was six years of age. In two days he walked as you see him now. He'comes from a thousand miles away. This year he will bé cured. Do you think it is in the heart of the good God to discredit such faith?” Robert Tracy could not answer. His blinded eyes wan- dered from the heroic figure in front of him up and down the car. There a malformed child sat hugging her two crutches in her emaciated arms, all eyes, feverish with anticipation. Beyond, an old woman swayed and crooned, bent to a stick. Her daughter sat beside her, moving silent lips. Why, the train was one seething, malformed human body, one unim- prisoned human Soul that believed! Robert almost cried aloud: ‘“ What faith!” The train came to a slow halt. In the pounding of crutches upon the floor one could not hear the conductor’s announce- ment. CONTINUED ON PAGE 184

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——— oe edie Oi toe rose Serer eT Ce 2A eee PAGARI- By Rowan P. Lemly ILLUSTRATIONS BY FRANK E. SCHOONOVER served by the Red Cross before resuming the march from the transport dock tocamp, where they would demobilize and spread to the four winds. They were nearing the end of a glorious military career, and these mere lads turned into men by a year of terrifying sights and sounds on the battle- fields of France were in high spirits. Soon they would throw off the restraints of dis- cipline and be on their way to homes where welcoming arms of mothers and sweethearts awaited them. Apart from the youngsters sat an old sergeant, guarding with care the beribboned regimental colors. He was the typical old-time, regular noncommissioned officer, straight as an arrow, with weather-beaten face that betokened the trials of tropical heat in the far-off Philippines, the sand- storms of Western plains, and the freezing blasts of Alaskan winds. At his feet dozed a black dog with short hair, big head and the stump of a tail. He was not a prepossessing animal, and I marveled at the repeated caresses the old soldier showered on him. Walking over to him, I re- marked as I stroked the dog’s silky ears: ‘‘ I see you have picked up a friend since you returned.” “Who, him?” replied the sergeant, nodding toward the dog. “ No, sir; him and me has fought and bled side by side for twelve years. He’s as much a part and parcel of this 'ere regiment as the colors themselves. How about it, old pal?” The stump of a tail wagged acquiescence, and the half-closed eyes opened for a moment to glance lovingly at the speaker. HE old soldier con- tinued: ‘That there critter has put in four enlistments and wears a wound stripe; and he’s just as proud of that little piece of ribbon on his neck as my old woman would have been had she lived to see this day.” It was then I noticed that it was not a dog tag which hung from the animal’s collar, but noth- ing less than the coveted Distinguished Service Cross. Scenting an inter- esting story I offered the old mana cigar. Examin- ing the wrapper with ap- parent appreciation, he resumed: “Yes, sir, that dog and a lot of men I seen come and go in this army is much alike. They both joined up as tramps lookin’ for their ‘three squares’ a day—down- trodden, shifty and worth- less. But feed ’em up and make ’em live up to the regulations, and you sometimes awakens their sleepin’ pride and turn out a hero. That’s what happened to this dog, and I can name a few buck recruits who traveled the same road and they’s mighty nigh as good as he is to-day.” “ATOW this here dog’s named Pagari; that’s Moro for friend. I don’t know how old he is. All I know is he joined us about twelve years ago, and he’s got a right smart of ‘pep’ in him yet. It’s true that in the wet, penetratin’ cold of a win- ter in dugouts over there he showed the first signs of approachin’ old age by a spell of the swivers. But he up and out of that in a week, and I put it down to a touch of ‘flu.’ If it was the ‘flu’ he played in luck, for the youngest and hardiest of us went through that and a right smart percentage never come back. I'll never forget the night he joined, ’cause it’s the first and only time in my life | know my hair stood right on end. And without paddin’ my chest I’ve looked old man Death in the eyes a few times in my twenty-five years’ service. It was one of them black nights you don’t find nowheres outer the Philippines, and in particular outer Moroland in Mindanao. Down there the nights gets so black you hurts your eyes strainin’ to see, and you curse the buzz of insects and the drippin’ from the jungle leaves that interferes with your hearin’. I ‘low, however, that the fear of a kampilan— two-edged Moro sword—in the small of your back has a most disturbin’ influence on your senses after dark. HE troops were at rest, eating a hot lunch , “Well, I’d just been sent down the trail to an abandoned camp with a detachment of thirty men for outpost duty. There weren’t a white man within ten miles of us, but hun- dreds of supposedly friendly Moros was our neighbors, like our Indians on the Western plains years ago, I calls ’em— too much alive to be considered exactly friendly. The vicin- ity of this ’ere spot was a favorite hang-out for jumpin’ the wagon and pack trains, which the outlaws did regular and systematical and then scurried off into the hillsto laugh at us. “*My men were quartered in nipa barracks surrounded by a six-foot barbed wire fence and a ten-foot ditch. That hadn’t prevented the corporal of the guard from bein’ cut to pieces two weeks past, and the critter got away with a gun before help could arrive. I weren’t overly pleased to find the C. O.’s quarters was a high-roofed grass house on bamboo stilts twenty-five yards outside the stockade. The idea of hittin’ the hay out yonder alone, while usin’ double sentinels with fixed bayonets inside the stockade, didn’t quite fit in with my ideas of what was right and proper at all. But this was my first independent command, and I couldn’t afford to show up nervous before my bunch of youngsters, who were tom-tom, which is the favorite and only musical instrument them critters use. It’s a drum open at one end, made of copper or brass, and shaped about like a shallow, round dish- pan. When struck with a drumstick it makes a loud, mourn- ful sound which you can hear for miles, and I’ll say it ain’t destined to comfort the heart of any white man.”’ i ELL, this heathen instrument was to be my burglar alarm, since I so balanced it that the slightest movement of the chair would send it crashin’ to the floor. Havin’ done all that mortal man could do to at least reduce the chances of dyin’ in my sleep, I turned in with my six-shooter under my piller and never so much as rolled over until reveille next mornin’. After a week of regular and undisturbed slumbers I begun to realize that I had on my first night suffered from the most acute attack of what’s known in soldier talk as buck fever, and I seriously considered removin’ my im- provised alarm before it became known to the members of my detachment. But as night come on I found myself, en- tirely from habit, arrangin’ the chair and tom-tom as before, and [ hit the hay and was asleep without a thought of fear. “How long I slept | don’t know. _ I was sud- themselves right smart on edge, what with bein’ fed up with stories of Moro ambuscades and cuttin’ parties. So I ‘lowed as how I’d spend my nights in my assigned home, even if I laid awake nights and slept all day.” “T BUNKED down in the biggest room, clear in the middle, so that a knife cut through the grass walls couldn’t reach me and carve me in two. The windows had bamboo lean-to shades that could be fastened with a crossbar. There was two doorways, one with a real door that fastened with a slide bar and one that was just a hole in the partition lead- ing into the back room. This also opened into the hall by another doorway, but without a door. “The first night I sized up the layout with considerable trepidation. I finally closed and bolted all means of civilized entrance. Then 1 placed a chair in the open doorway leadin’ into the back room. Against this chair I leaned a big, Moro denly wide awake, and the sound ofa fallin’ tom- tom wasstill reverberatin’ through the air like the dyin’ hum of a tunin’ fork. I was as near to petrified with fear as one can be and still, be alive. For the first time in my life I knew the sensation you read about of your hair standin’ plumb on end. I tried to pierce into the inky blackness for signs of movement. I strained my ears for the slightest sound of stealthy approachin’ footsteps. “Not a foreign sound broke the stillness of the night. Then my body come to life. I rolls off the bed, holdin’ the mat- tress in, front of me in my. lef@iand as a shield, while ¢£ cocks my gun with my right. I slowly backs to the wall, then creeps around the edge of the room to the chair.” és OW this may all seem plumb foolish to you, sittin’ here, but I tell you I fully expected to run onto a long, two- edged kampilan or else die in a spasm of pain as a kris was thrust into the small of my _ back. I stumps my toe against the fallen tom-tom and mentally cusses at my carelessness. Droppin’ the mattress I reaches for the matches I had care- fully placed on the chair, and I strikes a light with my left hand while I fin- gers the trigger of my gun in my right hand. No human bein’ showed up in the flickerin’ light, but standin’ in the outer door- way, lookin’ back over his shoulder, was the blackest black dog you ever seen. In the dim, bluish light of my matches his eyes shined like phosphorus out of an inky sea. “My first tmpulse. -was to hurl the chair at him in payment for the up- standin’ hairs on my head. Then I realized what a burden was liftin’ from my tortured nerves at seein’somethin’, anythin’, alive to account for my adventure. Had the rid- dle of the overturned .n-tom remained unan- swered, I doubt if } ever could have spent another night outside the stock- ade. The dog seemed to be on the point of runnin’, only waitin’ for the first sign of danger. I lit a candle and, snappin’ my fingers real friendlylike, I called to him. He hesitated, then slowly advanced toward me, crouchin’ and shakin’ with fear as he drew nearer, with his tail tucked tight between his legs. As I reached out my hand to pat him, he ducked his head to the floor as if preparin’ for a blow and his long, red tongue licked his chops dog-fashion.” oc ELL, sir, that’s how him and me become acquainted, but it was a long time before we come to be the bud- dies we are now. Where he come from nobody knows, but one thing was certain, he sure hadn’t known the touch of a friendly hand for some time before our introduction. My first pat of human kindness seemed to seal the bond of friendship from his point of view, and he become my slave as well as a blamed nuisance, ‘rom then on. Apr sigh mal his ° him dev cow ae of t arn beg shit he | stra tim

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April, 1920 “He weren’t the kind of critter to fall in love with on sight. He was underfed, and his lean flanks was streaked with mange. He was a typical tramp dog of the skulkin’ type, and his very air of fear was an incentive to lift your hand and see him cringe or run. But there was such a look of everlastin’ devotion in his eyes, I carried him on in spite of his all-fired cowardly manners. “Well, that there dog, as I said before, was just like some of the down-and-out, hungry tramps I seen join up with the army. With a whole company a-feedin’ scraps to him, he began to pick up flesh and his dingy coat gave way to a shinin’ satin skin that flickered in the sunlight. The tail that he kept so religiously tucked outer sight began to stand out straight. When he thought no one was a-lookin’ he some- times assumed a right, upstandin’ appearance, like his pride was tryin’ hard to come to the front and center.” . E RETURNED to garrison on the shores of Lake Lanao after our month of outpost duty was over, and Blackie, as we called him in them days, tagged right along. And then it was that he gained his first bit of local fame. The tramp spirit developed in him an almost supercanine sense of where to find food, and one of his favorite joints was the bachelor officers’ quarters, where he nosed around the mess table, snatchin’ stray bits of food here and there. Why they stood for him heaven only knows, and why he con- tinued to patronize a joint where he was only kicked and cuffed speaks well for his perseverance. “They seldom saw him come. He’d crawl in unobserved, cringin’ with fear, skirtin’ the walls while he kept one eye always on his hosts. He’d slink under the table unknown to anyone until he got stepped on, when he’d streak it for the door, yellin’ his head off, followed by everything throwable and the curses of those assembled. If ever there was a born coward it was this mongrel cur in them days—or so it seemed. But he musta had somethin’ else in his gizzard, too, as his future conduct showed. “For the followin’ story I’m indebted to Private Jake Smith, on Post Number 4. He come by it from the Chino cook Wang, who was told it by José, who worked for ‘ Lieut.’ Cushing. We had in the regiment at that time a young officer who was familiarly known to the men as the ‘chocolate HOME JOURNAL éclair,’ a mighty good youngster in his day, but inclined to be femininelike in appearance, which accounts for his nickname. He was right honnery and severe in his manner toward enlisted men, which accounted for his bein’ anythin’ but a favorite with the rank and file of ’em. It seems that a party was on in the mess one evenin’ and Blackie, scentin’ a meal, was among those present. He was makin’ himself particularly conspicuous by gettin’ in the way, got under everybody’s feet and finally upset a bottle. “*Blast the dog!’ says the ‘chocolate éclair.’ ‘He's brought me nothin’ except bad luck since he’s taken to hangin’ round, and the more you show him his company’s not wanted by abusin’ him, the more he seems to like us. A black dog’s bad luck in a game anyway. Let’s fix him right for once. What’ll it be?’ “The ‘chocolate éclair’ owned a mountain lion skin with mounted head and glass eyes. This relic of some past hunt adorned the floor beside his bed. Someone suggested that the owner of the skin put it over his head and attack the dog, scarin’ him out of his wits. The party, scentin’ fun, chorused their approval, and the ‘chocolate éclair,’ always willin’ to be in the limelight, fell for the game. He disappeared behind the scenes to prepare for the masquerade, while all means of exit were closed so Blackie couldn't escape. At a signal from the next room the door was opened, revealin’ a large panther on all fours, sniarlin’ and spittin’, with teeth exposed as he advanced to attack.” - ELL, Blackie took one look and the next thing they knew he had that critter by the head shakin’ him like a terrier shakes a rat. A howl of pain come from under the skin, followed by yells for help. Blackie hung on until a bucket of cold water surprised him into loosin’ his hold, and the ‘chocolate éclair’ appeared from under his disguise minus some of his right ear. “It didn’t take twenty-four hours for that story to travel from the officers’ line to soldiers’ barracks, and Blackie’s stock went up one hundred per cent overnight. From a mongrel pup of no interest except to kick, he come to be an individual of considerable importance and the recipient of more pettin’ than he had heretofore received in his whole lifetime. His spirits rose with his prominence, and a few months of bein’ a respected and even pampered citizen found him a fine, upstandin’ specimen of a dog, with a silver- mounted collar on which was engraved: ‘Blackie, Com- pany C, —th Infantry.’”’ Bi WAS about this time that we began our expeditions across the lake against the lawless bands of the outlaw Ampuanagaus; and here it was that Blackie established beyond doubt his reputation as a soldier. From bein’ a mere adornment to the company street, he became a useful and necessary adjunct to every expedition of a serious nature. “‘He had early in our acquaintance shown a hatred for the Moro. At the sight of one of ’em the hair of his back bristled up and he’d let out a series of growls, snarls and whines, exposin’ his long, white fangs as he wrinkled up his chops. It soon became evident, after a hike or two, that this ’ere dog had the most wonderful scentin’ apparatus at the tip of his nose in existence. Trottin’ along at the head of a column he sniffed the air and began to bristle up fully ten minutes before we'd begin to meet natives on the trail. And believe me or not, sir, but it’s a fact that he’d strike the scent of a cross trail and inside of two hundred yards he’d know if he was followin’ up or goin’ away from the maker of the scent, just accordin’ to whether that trail was growin’ hot or gettin’ cold. “‘T remember one moonlight night we was headin’ up into the foothills single file; me and Blackie with a squad was bringin’ up the rear as a precaution against bein’ jumped from behind. Absolute silence was the orders, as the success of the expedition depended entirely on its secrecy. The sound of a rattlin’ tin cup, a cough, or even the rustle of the wavin’ cogon grass, as we pushed it out of our faces, was enough to warn one of them heathens, and the alarm would spread from one end of the valley to the other. “T noticed all of a sudden that this 'ere dog kept a gettin’ under my feet, and he’d stop and sniff the air and whine real low. Pretty soon he stopped short and, facin’ down trail, he pokes his nose high in the air and sniffs curiouslike. Then I hears him growl, and he sidles up against me, as though knowin’ trouble was followin’ us. CONTINUED ON PAGE 166 “Around a Bend in the Trail Appears the Faint Outline of a Human Form a-Creepin’ and a-Glidin’ Along as Quiet and Stealthy as a Cat”

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pee ood He sat up and looked about Prk him. ‘‘You let me over- Lf, sleep!” he said sharply. ee “T couldn’t help myself,’’ the = detective answered. ‘I’ve had my hands full, Mr. Parker. I had to hurry down to the station just at daylight, and the trip took me longer than I expected.” “‘T told you to call on me if there was any- thing I could do to help you.” “There wasn’t anything you could do, Mr. Parker. As soon as I’d parted from you, I overhauled the study and the passage beyond and the stairs. I found that the boxed stairway goes up to a small landing which has only one door, an entrance directly into More- ton’s bedroom; one can go up from the study into Moreton’s room and through it to the main hall. There’s also an upstairs porch which crosses Moreton’s bedroom and the room next to it, which is an unoccupied guest room, and runs as far as Miss Allen’s room. One of her windows opens on it, and there is a door opening from Moreton’s bedroom onto the porch. “T had given particular attention to that bottle of poison and its cork, so when I saw through Miss Allen’s window that she was not in her room I took the opportunity to search it. In her bathroom is a medicine cupboard, and on the top shelf there are a number of empty bottles, the larger ones labeled ‘Glycerin’ or ‘Witch-Hazel,’ and sev- eral little one-ounce bottles labeled ‘Rose Water,’ all from the same New York drug store. The top shelf is dusty, and I found there a small dust mark where one of those one-ounce bottles had recently stood and into which that bottle of poison exactly fits.”’

“AND I also found, in the waste-paper basket, a little ball of paper. I opened it out; it was a label like those on the one- ounce bottles in the cupboard, and marked ‘Rose Water.’ The cork to that one-ounce labelless bottle of poison has an easily dis- tinguishable odor of roses.’’ Parker looked up. ‘“ That’s interesting,’ he said. ‘ Did you find any trace of a bottle from which the one-ounce bottle might have been filled?’’ “No, I didn’t find anything else in her room that interested me. Then I went around by Moreton’s room and through into the main hall. Mrs. Moreton’s apart- ment is directly across the hall from his; then there are several guest rooms on her side of the hall. On Moreton’s side of the hall are—first, his room; next, the unoccu- pied guest room; then Miss Allen’s room; then your room; then Driscoll’s. Driscoll’s HOME JOURNAL

door was open and I went in. The doctor was ie eee ere CR Sark wee Ling h ae bandaging hisarm. I wanted the doctor; I’d Le age & Megane April, 1920 |THE MORETON MYSTERY

decided that we’d examine Moreton’s body to- gether. ‘So you’re getting fixed up?’ I said. “‘ Driscoll didn’t say anything, but the doc- tor said: ‘I’ve been telling Driscoll that Mr. Moreton’s body ought to be examined more thoroughly than I was able to examine it in those few minutes. Have you examined it?’ “““When we were in the study, not since,’ I told him. ‘I'd like to have a look over again.’ “‘Driscoll seems a blunt sort. ‘Go ahead and do it, you two, if you have any suspicions,’ he said. ‘To my mind, it’s a clear enough case of suicide.’ “The doctor and I went down and on the way the doctor said: ‘I agree with Driscoll. He and I were talking of the state of excitement in which Mr. Moreton left the dinner table last night. I’m certain it’s suicide, but I want to make a more thorough examination before the inquest.’ ”’ | SAID nothing. We set to work, but we’d barely begun when the window door was pushed open and Miss Allen

‘ came in Parker stopped short in his dressing. ‘‘ Miss Allen?”’ he said. “Yes. She came up to the desk and stood there. I said nothing, but the doctor begged her to leave and she refused pretty curtly. He got scarlet then and let her alone. She stood there through the whole thing, just holding onto the desk and looking, her face like chalk and her eyes red. It made-me feel queer, her standing there, and it upset the doctor for a time; his hands shook. He cooled down presently and regularly set to work. He made a good ex- amination.” “‘And the result?’’ Parker asked. “We found no suspicious marks—nothing.”’ “And Miss Allen?” “‘She stood there, holding to the desk, until we started to leave. Then she turned and went out ahead of us, straight upstairs and into her own room, without looking at us or ooemes to us. Doctor Levene said to me: ‘That’s a strange thing for a girl to do; I don’t understand her.’ It certainly struck me as queer. How do you explain it, Mr. Parker?” “I hardly think a bad conscience brought her; that wouldn’t be correct criminal psychology—not as I have

observed it,” Parker said dryly. Then with a change of tone: “But affection might have brought and held her there.” Jowett considered Parker’s answer; then he shrugged. “Well, anyway, we went back up and, after we'd talked for a time, the doctor went to Mrs. Moreton’s apartment and I went to your room. All the time I was there I could hear Miss Allen in her room, walking the floor—when she wasn’t listening at her door to what was going on, just as I was. Von Betler and the ‘count didn’t go to bed. Mrs. von Betler was ill and had to have attention, and Doctor Levene was in and out, doctoring everybody, as far as I could make out, but most of the time in Mrs. Moreton’s room. “Then, near morning, I came downstairs and had a look around the first floor and the veranda. In the dining room I ran into the little butler, Burke. I tried to talk with him, but he shut up tight. He’s a polite but: resolute little Irishman, although he talks cockney English. He said: ‘I’m sorry not to answer questions, sir, but I’ve ’ad no orders to answer questions. Perhaps in the morning, sir, Mr. Driscoll or Mr. Parker will tell me what’s my duty; I’m quite ready to do my duty, sir, though there’s very little I know about what’s happened.’”’ ™ ELL, I let him be and went out to the garage. The place wasn’t locked and the chauffeur’s door was open. | got a surprise then, for at the first glance I saw that he’d flown.” “Holt gone!” Parker exclaimed. ‘‘ You’re sure of that?’’ “Gone—bag and baggage. I got the garage telephone and arranged to have him shadowed if he should turn up in New York. I’d just finished when a man came up from the park; he proved to be the head gardener. He said that about three-quarters of an hour before Holt had given hima letter addressed to you which the gardener was to deliver at the house. Holt told him that he wanted to catch the next train and that the letter would explain. It seems that the head gardener can run a car, and Holt told him he’d better

“I Asked Her if She Knew Where the Chauffeur Had Gone, and She Answered, ‘I Don’t Know,’ and Walked Out” take charge of the garage. The head gardener was in some- thing of a stew, but I told him just to look after the garage and I’d bring the letter to you. We got out a machine and I made for the station. I found that Holt had not taken a ticket there—that he’d not been there at all. Then I came back to the garage and did some more telephoning. That's what made me late, and here’s Holt’s letter.” sg tem took the bulky envelope without comment. In it was a letter to Parker and an inclosed and sealed letter addressed ‘‘For the Coroner.” Parker read Holt’s letter to him, put the inclosed letter in his pocket, then handed the open letter to Jowett. ‘ You may as well read it, Jowett.” The letter was in a bold, decided hand, and was correct in form and spelling: My dear Mr. Parker: As Mrs. Moreton is ill and ought not to be bothered by such matters, I address this to you. A month ago I gave Mr. Moreton notice that I would leave at the end of my month. I secured another position and have to begin my duties at once. My new position is some distance away and is a really important position, far more so than the one I have occupied. I have to be on hand to the hour of agreement or I lose it. I was going to tell Mr. Moreton last night that I should be leaving early in'the morning. Each month Mr. Moreton gave me a sum in advance for garage supplies, and so forth. I have deducted my wages from the sum, and my account for supplies is in the locker in the garage, and, I think, will be found correct. I am exceedingly sorry to leave at this time, when the Morcton family are in trouble. It is absolutely necessary for me to reach my new position on time, otherwise I would remain until I could tell the coroner what little I know of Mr. Moreton’s death. When I parted from you last night I hoped I might be able to stay until noon, but I find that if I do stay I shall not be able to make train connections. As I cannot appear at the inquest, I am inclosing a statement. Please accept my regrets and my sincere distress over what has occurred. Respectfully, Harry Hott. Jowett folded the note. ‘‘Um,” he said thoughtfully. “He writes like an intelligent, educated man. But it was foolish of him to run.”

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eacastahenatmenshhéteanss Wa Se om hee ie Ct Apt il, 1920 HOME JOURNAL By Elizabeth Dejeans “I’m Sorry Not to Answer Questions, Sir, But I’ve ’ad No Orders to Answer Questions’” Parker had finished his dressing, had put on his coat and now he settled his collar with decision. ‘‘I’m going to my room now and wash up a bit,” he said, and lifted his locked satchel. Jowett eyed him gravely. ‘Here are the keys you lent me,”’ he returned. “There are no traces of my search in there; everything’s just as it was.” ay Parker pocketed the keys. ‘‘ Very well,’’ he said pleasdntly. “T’ll see you later then, Jowett.” X ARELY had Parker reached his room when a mild knock on his door preceded the butler bearing a tray. “It’s your breakfast, sir,’’ Burke said. ‘‘ Mrs. Moreton thought the guests would prefer to breakfast in their rooms. The footmann’s serving across the ‘all; I’m looking after the amily.” “Across the ’all’”’ referred to the Von Betlers, the count and Mrs. Insmann. Parker was standing before the mirror, and he studied Burke’s reflection. He was elderly, rather a small man, with a round and, under ordinary circumstances, a rosy face, haloed by white hair. Though slightly lame, he moved quite nimbly. And, in spite of his cockney lapses, he appeared to be Irish. “You're Irish, aren’t you, Burke?’’ Parker asked. “Indeed, no, sir!’’ Burke returned with decision. “I’m English—except by my mother, sir; she was Irish.” Parker turned to the table. ‘‘ Well, we know where your sympathies are then, Burke. If you were a younger man you'd be at the front.” “Indeed, yes, sir! But for Mr. Moreton and this bad leg of mine, I’d be back in England this minute.”’ ‘That was a terrible thing last night, Burke.” “Tt was, sir. I’ve never in my life had a worse turn.” “You didn’t notice anything unusual about Mr. Moreton when you took him the water last night?” “No, sir. He seemed moved though, sir, and I was moved myself, after what ’ad ’appened at dinner, sir. When I set the tray on the desk he looked up at me so, under his brows, and nodded his head. ‘We're well over fifty, Burke,’ he says, ‘but some day we’ll break out. We'll shoulder muskets and make for the front, eh?’ and he laughed in his throat, like.” “And you, Burke—what did you say?” Burke straightened. ‘‘I stood so, sir, and saluted. And he laughed again, and I went out. That’s the last I seen of him livin’.””. Burke’s voice faltered somewhat. “Yes, you appear to be the last person who saw Mr. More- ton alive. You should tell Miss Allen about it, Burke; it would be a comfort to her.” “Yes, sir. Shall I put this suit in the bag, sir?”’ “Yes, please, Burke. And Mrs. Moreton would be com- forted by:traoo. As for some of those at dinner last night, I wonde¥. if «they, guessed 4fflat, whatever Mr. Moreton may ha¥e done subsequently, he was merely grimly playing with them at dinner.”’ y HAT struck fire. ,“ You've said it, sir. Are they thinkin’ a man like Mr. Moreton would hawe his brain upset by the likes of them? Not by no means,,sir, There was no steadier head ever put on a man’s.skoulders than Mr. Moreton’s head on his body, sir! _He,’ad, his troubles, ‘sir, and he was sharp-spoken sometimes; he made hot young fellows like Holt champ the bit and he made silly, conceited people feel small, but he was a good man, sir.”’ Parker was in haste, but he found Burke well worth while. “‘He 'ad his troubles,’”’ was significant; and Parker was cer- tain that he had purposely mentioned Holt. So he ventured the question: ‘‘What sort was Holt, Burke? They tell, me that his month was up yesterday and tliat he has gone.”’ “Yes, sir; sothey say. I don’t know him, sir; he kept by himself always.” Parker had made short work of his breakfast, and now he rose. ‘ Well, Burke, I hope you'll not forsake the family in their trouble?” “I ’ave no wish to do so, sir. May I ask, sir—is it true there’s a detective in the ’ouse? The servants have taken on 27 ILLUSTRATIONS BY W. H. D. KOERNER about it; for instance, there is Katie, sir, one of the chambermaids, was upset something terrible.” Parker remembered that Driscoll had mentioned the chambermaid; she had brought him the wet towel. He made a mental note of ‘‘ Katie”’; undoubtedly it was Burke’s pur- pose that he should. “There is a detective here and he will be pres- ent at the inquest, but there is no reason why anyone should feel nervous be- cause of that. What.is-it. troubles Katie, Burke?”’ ‘She hasn’t told me, sir, so I don’t know.” Parker tried him on another point. ‘Is Miss Allen down yet, Burke?” he asked. “‘She’s ’ad her breakfast in the library, sir, and then she went outdoors. And that makes me think, Mrs. Moreton has been asking for the keys to the study, sir; Doctor Levene was down asking about them for Mrs. Moreton.” , Parker gave him the keys. ‘‘The room is locked and the windows fastened. Give the keys to Mrs. Moreton and nobody else.” Burke gave him a fleeting glance. “I will, sir. And your bag—if you will unlock it, sir,, I'll put in these folded things.”’ it leave them on the bed, as they are, Burke.” “Yes, sir. I ’ope you'll be staying till to- morrow, sir; the house seems distracted with no one to take hold. Across the ’all, they’ve sent for Mr. von Betler’s car, and the count has telephoned into town for his car, so they expect to be leaving just after the inquest.” “Is Doctor Levene also going?” Parker asked. “T think not, sir—not with them.” “Mrs. Moreton, of course, is not well enough to be left.” “Probably not, sir.” ARKER took up his hat. “ Did you no- tice what direction Miss Allen took, Burke? I want to see her.” There was the briefest pause before Burke answered firmly: “NO, af. As Parker went out he said to himself: “T’ll wager that’s another man she holds ‘between her little hands.’’”’ He also sur- mised that Burke had been as intent upon sounding him as he had been intent upon sounding Burke. Parker searched the grounds of Moreton House, but he could not find Nixie. The canoe and two rowboats were at the landing; she was evidently not on the lake. Before his search was over, it was half past eight o’clock, and he wanted a word with Nixie before the coroner appeared. So he went back to the house and oud Burke in the library, armed with a duster. ‘“‘Has Miss Allen come in?” he inquired. “‘T’ve not seen her since she went out, sir, but I’ll find if she’s in her room, if you wish. Will you wait here, sir?” “Yes, yes,”’ Parker said impatiently. He felt certain that Burke knew where Nixie was. Burke returned promptly. ‘ Miss Allen is not upstairs, sir.”’ “‘Have you any idea where she is?’”’ Parker asked. “It’s important, Burke; I want to see her.” But Burke remained firm. ‘I don’t know, sir.” Parker was both irritated and anxious. ‘It will never do for her not to be at the inquest,” he said warningly. “I think she must be about the place; she'd ‘ardly stay away from the inquest, I think, sir,” Burke said mildly. “Have you seen Mr. Jowett? Do you know where he is?’’ Parker asked. “I saw him go to the garage a bit ago, sir.” The garage doors were closed and locked, but Parker heard someone moving about inside. He rapped, and pres- ently Jowett unlocked the doors and revealed himself, smudged and in his shirt sleeves. “Oh, it’s you!” he said. “I thought it was the gardener with the new chauffeur. The gardener’s on the track of a man to take Holt’s place. The coroner hasn’t come yet, has he?” He went over to a set basin and began to wash his hands. “Don’t let me disturb you,” Parker answered. looking for Miss Allen; have you seen her?” “You're not.disturbing me; it’ll have to wait anyway; iy I’m _ it’s about time for the coroner. Yes, Miss Allen was here when I first came in. She came out of the tool room back there,” and Jowett pointed to a door opening off the garage. “I’ve been overhauling things back con myself, for from the looks of her hands she’d been messing around the old tires and stuff that’s stored there. When IL asked her point- blank what she was about, she didn’t answer, only looked at me. I tried to talk to her a little; among other things, I asked her if she knew where the chauffeur had gone and she answered me curtly enough, ‘I don’t know,’ and walked out with her head up.” “Did you see which way she went?’ Parker asked. “Straight to the house,” Jowett answered, giving the roller towel rough handling. “She went around by the veranda.” CONTINUED ON PAGE 108

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<n te Se Sea 6 fh ES

ERSTE Te er HOME JOURNAL April, 1920 The “LITTLE FLYIN’ FOOL”

The Aviator Husband, Bill

S ATIMID war bride I was deposited by my aviator husband in the heart of one of the biggest flying camps in this country, away down at the edge of the world and uncomfortably close to Villa and his bandits. Now, once more safe at home, I have vague, remote visions of shimmering miles of rolling Texas prairies, of |glaring white-shell roads, of brief, penetrat- ing winters with ‘magnolia blossoms and jasmine in lieu of snow, and of stifling summers and long, hot days ee filled with the steady droning and buzzing of airplane motors and the crackling rat-tat-tat of machine guns at target practice on the gunnery range. Vague now seems even the shock on hearing about the “crash” of some well-loved friend, the meager details concerning it, and the quick, necessary, merciful forgetting of it. But now in memory as then in reality, overtoning every- thing stands out the strange, sinister presence of the planes—in crates, in hangars, lined up for the take-off, shiny ones, scarred ones, wingless ones and, often mercifully far off on a lonely stretch of prairie, a tangle of wires, bits of scat- tered canvas, a broken strut—just a small heap —— Much to his chagrin, Bill (my husband) was retained dur- ing all the war as an instructor in advanced classes. So for two years I lived, talked and dreamed aviation, until it has become the most fascinating subject in the world to me. Flying gives you new angles of vision. It stretches you out, and yet it shatters the inflated idea of yourself in a single second. It makes you realize infinity—not from a sense of fear, but from the big, new, wind-swept perspec- tives that are hurled at you. You are naturally scared at first; I admit it. But it is only the little soul that remains afraid. No mean soul could go flying into a sunset, racing with a storm, bucking head on into the wind, scudding along at the edge of a mile-long, thick, black cloud with a rainbow following all the way, and remain mean.

Preparing for My First Flight ATURALLY I wished to fly, and finally my chance for a maiden flight came in spite of the rigidly enforced army rules and regulations against civilians’ flying. But, strangely enough, I was not to fly with my husband. He had one of those vague superstitions about me which aviators some- times acquire and never shake off; he was afraid that he might be just a little bit too careful! Yet he had no objec- tion to my going up with a brother flier, whom my husband knew to be able and expe rienced and who, to quote the final reassuring verdict, ‘‘used his bean.”’ The day finally arrived. Early in the morning | began to struggle with excited fingers at the unfamiliar buttons and straps of Bill’s flying togs—‘ putts,” trousers, flannel shirt, goggles. Girls al- ways relish an adventure twice as much when they can dress up. FinaMy the de- cisive voice of the C. O. came over the wire: ‘‘Awfully sorry about your flight, but”’—and then at the utter despair in mine—“‘ well, if you were all done up in a flying suit you might not be recognized,” and the click of the receiver sounded in my ear. Such thrilling excitement! For, of course, the added risk of being discovered made the project all the more delightfully hazardous. I called the flying office, told Bill, guardedly, the good news, and in a matter of seconds his motorcycle was whirring before the door.

| Scudding Along by the Edge of a Cloud COURTESY OF TALE SPINS A Group of Planes, in Impressive Formation, Flying Over a Big City As we left the cozy protection of our little bungalow the air seemed to be full of countless Buzzards. Possibly you have never heard of the Hungry Lizzies or the Buzzards that are peculiar to aviation fields. Those names are attached respectively to the airplanes known as the post field ambulance and the hospital ship. The Buzzard is painted a pure white, with red crosses of mercy, and con- tains a complete emergency kit, first-aid supplies and a stretcher. It is kept in the most perfect flying condition, is tuned up every in minutes and at stated intervals it speeds off through the skies on the lookout for any unfor- tunate—either a broken ship or a broken aviator. Now each sun-glistening ship seemed to be a replica of the shining Buzzard, hovering above me, ready, eager, waiting. I clung tightly to Bill’s arm as we sauntered across the heat-filled Texas prairie. My flying clothes were hidden by a long linen duster, but the ‘‘ putts’’ made me uncomfortable. They kept turning round on my legs, so that I had to keep a nervous watch downward for fear one should slide off. That casual stroll across the fields I shall never forget. It had to appear casual, for we had decided that the safest way would be to proceed deliberately to the flying field where I was, ostensibly to watch Bill go up. Ata given signal I was to slip quickly into the plane that had been agreed upon. Everything worked like a charm. I stooped occasionally to gather some of the pink star blooms that dotted the prairie and finally sank down amid the long grasses at the edge of the dead line. A class was under instruction. The ships took off, banked around in a half circle of the field and alighted—the smooth, three-point landings indicating the seasoned pilots, and the bouncing, bumping ones those of the inexperienced cadets. One after poner the ships rolled past us, but the pilots were so busy in directing the rolling or in taxi- -ing for a fresh flight that we passed unnoticed. Up in the Sky So Blue T LAST a ship alighted quite close to us, dropping smoothly and gliding easily forward. The pilot leaped quickly from the rear seat and took his place in front. ‘‘Wouldn’t let you go if he didn’t,” whispered Bill. For, in the event of a crash in that particular type of plane, the occupant of the front seat is usually the one to suffer most damage, and Bill has always hated the thought of seeing my small nose scattered over my face. That ship! As it rolled toward us it assumed the mag- nificent and awe-inspiring proportions of a Handley-Page, but when I had clambered in or, rather, was ignominiously boosted in, it suddenly dwindled to the size of a little scout, a diminutive S. E. 5, with the apparent frailty of a tissue-winged butterfly. For one terrible moment my heart fluttered and my knees grew weak, but my woman’s curiosity soon overcame my fear. Nevertheless, things looked a bit hazy for a second and I gave the person who looked like Bill two very hard and reassuring kisses as he leaned over me an instant to adjust the life belt. I blamed much of my subsequent misery to that life belt; it was fastened so tightly about my waist that I could scarcely breathe. The ‘‘prop” hadn’t ceased revolving, but the noise of the motor lessened as I strapped my helmet securely under my chin. Then Bill’s face suddenly disappeared and the Texas prairie began to hurry past. I stared at it, fascinated. It

was like ridingin the fastest train in the world, with an occasional jar to remind one that thereare notracks undera plane. I loved that going up part; joy riders *always do. The pilot, however, probably has a few anx- ious moments until he is clear of all trees and han- gars and flagpoles and things. But that worry is completely eliminated in Texas. The flat old prai- rie stretches off, level and smooth looking, for miles and miles, and one rum- bles swiftly over it in the most satisfying manner.. Slowly, then, the prairie started to leave us—that is exactly the sensation I felt, that it gently parted from us, waved its flower-filled hand in farewell and dropped demurely away to its proper place beneath. There was no sense of ex- ertion, no _ laboriousness about it, just the exhila- rative sense of increasing speed with the ground softly slipping away. One feels very safe in an airship. It’s very cozy in the cockpit, and the sides come up about you in the most protecting manner. Suddenly I remembered Bill and turned to wave my hand. That was where my first shock of surprise came. No sooner was my arm stretched out than it was hurled backward with great force and bumped against the fuselage. I realized then the speed with which we were going and ventured my helmeted head a little way over the cowl. I thought the wind would surely blow off a piece of my cheek, but I loved it. As one gains altitude there is no vivid sensation of speed, except that great force of wind rushing back at you. However, if you chance upon a small cloud or another ship, then you realize it. They come rushing at you and have flown past before you are barely aware of their existence. Bill’s War Bride, the “Little Flyin’ Fool” Looping the Loop is Great Fun OMEONE has said that the earth is uninteresting from above because of its flatness. But viewed from above, the Texas landscape resolved itself into the most intriguing Chinese puzzle ever devised. Those nut-stuffed, chocolate things aren’t caramels at all, but hybrid species of cattle! The pretty, intricate patterns of truck gardens, the round buttons that are haystacks, the blue blotches of lake that seem like puddles for fairy feet—all made me feel that I had at last fulfilled my childish dreams and was gazing proudly down from Gulliverian heights at my Lilliputian kingdom. The straggly, Southern farmlands, with their white cot- tages, looked like sharp-edged dominoe s, and the forests like clubby little affairs, all the trees shoved tightly in together and rounded off smoothly and neatly. Then there was the lovely, sand-colored curve of the bay’s edge, and the little mists that merged the water and sky into one piece, and the clouds—I’ll wait for a poet to tell you of the clouds. The pilot looked around inquiringly, smiled and indicated a little circle with his finger—a loop! I nodded delightedly, and we were off. Down, down we shot, a tremendous dive, with the wind swishing past my ears. Then we shot up on the first curve of our circle with the swift easiness of a ski jumper. My head seemed to sink into my shoulders; it felt as though someone was pushing upon it with a mighty force. I stared at the back of the pilot’s head in the front seat; gradually it began to rise above me. It seemed a slow process. Up, up it came until it began to pass over mine. And then—at the top of the loop! Racing Over the Clouds Into a Sunset

un del ye pe up the slis ey lov tio lik dt bi rar in ol al v eS a OO

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April, 1920 COURTESY OF TALE SPINS Stunts So Distractingly Thrilling That They Actually Scare All the Scare Out of You! It was the oddest sensation, and I felt strangely undignified. All my senses werealert. I remember delicately hoping that the life belt wouldn’t break, yet I felt no sense of weight upon it as we hung sus- pended, head downward, with the ground staring up at us. For a fleeting second my feet came gently from the floor as we went over; my knees lifted ever so slightly; particles of dust from the cockpit floated past my eyes. We were over! And the whizzing plunge that fol- lowed made me forget the peculiar, almost dreamy, sensa- tions of the moment before. The pilot turned around and grinned. I had actually liked it. He looped again! Seeing and Feeling Too Much at Once HEN followed a series of various stunts, wing-over- wings or the barrel roll, which is the most graceful thing in the world—to watch; the Immelman turn, where we whooped straight up to a stall and then rolled off sideways at a most disconcerting angle; and the hair-raising side slip, where I looked timidly down the wings and realized how thin the air was between me and the fast-approaching Texas prairie, with the smarting slaps of wind on my cheek. Then the pilot turned again, shut off his motor and said: ‘Tail spin?” It was suddenly and terrifyingly quiet, and I was afraid he might hear the echo of my heartbeats. I nodded acquiescence. I couldn’t speak. That was the one stunt | dreaded. We started. I hung on this time, and that kept me so busy that I fear I missed lots of interesting details. But | do remember seeing seven tails all chasing each other around in the most disconcerting fashion, and fifteen wings jutting out at unexpected places, and the ground and the clouds and the sun all jumbled up together. In a tail spin you hang face downward in a nose dive and the tail whips you swiftly about in horrible, tight, little circles, It’s no fun at all. It felt as though my stomach was being roughly pushed about ina limited space. I longed to be in any place where I wouldn’t be seeing and feeling so much at once. After an eternity we came out—just a few feet off the ground, it looked to me—and flew along right side up. At least I believe we did. The pilot turned and grinned again. said; ‘‘you’ll be all right.” I relaxed. It wasa mistake. When I regained my strength I motioned weakly, ‘‘Home, James,” and before I realized it Bill was guiding my unsteady feet back through the fields, back through the pink star blooms. My first air ride was over! Shortly afterward a moving picture was staged at the field. Quite a thriller it was, called ‘‘ Leonard's Last Loop, ’”’ or something equally exciting. The girls were greatly in- terested because it presented an opportunity for flights. Our C. O. held a drawing contest, and how the lucky slip holders were envied! Every bride on the field would have pawned her wedding gown for the chance to go up. And every girl loved it when she did go. We flew from the field to San Leon, the gunnery school, where we landed to pose for pictures. Never have I seen a more delighted, happy, eager crowd of girls. And it hadn’t been just straight flying, nor was the weather good; there had been rain and heavy fog and over the bays the clouds fairly steamed up at us. Ever so many proud young husbands had performed a wing- over-wing or a casual tail spin for an admiring bride stunts scary and weird, but so distractingly thrilling that they actually scare all the scare out of you! “‘Just relax,’’ he Flying Amid the Mountains T WAS on Friday the thirteenth that we received our discharge, our honorable discharge, and jitneyed for the last time in the little government car down the shell rcads, HOME JOURNAL PHOTO. BY G. T. RABINEAU We Were in a Basin, With Sleepy Little Lakes and Islands across seventeen miles of prairie into Houston. Then came the slow, tedious journey back North. My especial aviator, like many another, was loath to give up the flying game and so had affiliated with an airplane company. Our first work led us to the borders of beautiful Lake Champlain, where a boy’s summer camp was situated. Here for two months, with the assistance of another youth- ful aviator, called Happy by reason of his expression, young America was taught to try its wings. When the camp closed we were requested by one of the hotel owners to take the planes to Lake Placid for the pur- pose of giving his guests the opportunity of flying—for a price. But on the day we were to leave, my husband was wired an opportunity to fly in the New York-Toronto air Derby; so he left at once for Buffalo to get a ship in readi- ness, and I was commissioned as general manager and detailed to go on to Lake Placid with the mechanics and Hap. Such thrilling, anxious days followed, with only a few sparsely worded, unsatisfying wires from Bill! I spent a great deal of time at the flying field, a lovely spot hemmed in by mountains. The field was large, but the ground was soft and taxi-ing difficult. I Venture Forth on Another Thriller TT’HEN, too, the wind, when there was any, was from such a direction that Hap was obliged to take off toward the end of the field which was fringed with a row of pine trees; uncomfortably tall and sharp, they looked to me. Many a day I watched the ship clear them with scarcely a yard to spare! The high altitude was another worry. The air was so thin that it took just that much longer to rise. Hap, who drove from the rear seat, had a clever device by which to communicate with the person in front. It was a speaking tube attached to the passenger’s helmet and reaching back to the pilot’s seat. Incidentally the device increased profits, for some people asked to go for a ten- minute hop with the agreement to stay up longer should The Clouds Rushed at Our Plane and Went Tearing Past COURTESY OF TALE SPINS PHOTO. BY G. T. RABINEAU The Large Flying Field at Lake Placid, a Lovely Spot Hemmed in by Mountains Girls Always Relish an Adventure Twice as Much When They Can Dress Up for It COURTESY OF TALE SPINS A Fleeting Second We Hung Suspended, Head Downward, the Ground Staring Up at Us they so desire. Without shutting off the motor, Hap was able to ascertain whether the passenger was enjoying himself to the extent of a longer ride, and invariably he was! One dim day, when business was a bit dull, I stepped boldly out, proffered a handful of bills (I got them back afterward), signed the ‘‘death war- rant,” as we called it, and stepped in—or rather I crawled most ungracefully up the side and fell with a dull thump on the cushioned seat * below me. Then I adjusted the helmet and belt, and we were off! The Picnickers Were Scattered E TAXIED slowly. I thought we should never rise and, to my chagrin, Hap aimed straight at the pine tree with the sharpest point. Visions of butterflies impaled daintily at the ends of long pins flashed before. me. But we climbed slowly, steadily, until the tree was well below us on our second circle of the field. We were in a basin, with sleepy little lakes and islands below and, rimming us in, a circle of mountains, pine- covered to their very summits. Bowlder Hill was the one exception, and on its bald topa picnic party was enjoying the view. We knew it to be a picnic because of the bits of pink, white and blue. Hap tilted the nose down in a steep dive, and how those pink, white and blue dabs of color did scatter! The mountains, instead of appearing flat and lifeless from the air, became more ruggedly beautiful. They seemed fairly to thrust themselves at us. We saw them in a bigger, more comprehensive way. The majestic strength of them, the age-old, quiet dignity of them forced itself upon us as we danced absurdly before them in our cockleshell of a boat. Up the slopes flamed an occasional maple, glowing leaves brought out sharply against the somber background. The floating mist wreaths seemed to scatter as we reached them. I Take the Joy Stick ROUND the basin we flew in a widening circle. Hap’s voice, interrupting my revel of beauty, came suddenly through the speaking tube: ‘‘ Would you like to take the stick?” I gasped. Why thrust this responsibility on me? I had been so happy and carefree before. I looked around reproach- fully to see if he really meant it. His calm and friendly smile assured me that he did. “Now,” continued the voice placidly, ‘‘just point the radiator cap at that mountain in front of you and hold it there.” I peered ahead. I remembered that distances are decep- tive in the mountains. I vaguely hoped they wouldn’t be too deceptive, turned around, nodded and smiled my will- ingness and wondered if the motor wasn’t missing; but it was only my heart. We were in a “ Jennie” and the slender joy stick comes up from the floor between your knees. How could any besotted idiot h4ve ever named it a joy stick, | wondered miser- ably. I had noticed its occasional waverings before, but they had been meaningless. Now I wished fervently that I had kept my eyes glued upon them. I placed my hand timidly about the stick. I didn’t want to a bit. “All right; go ahead,” sang Hap. I had been going ahead; where did he think I had been going? ‘‘He must expect me to do something else,’ | reasoned, and as he called again ‘‘Go ahead; it’s all yours,” I pulled back gently on the stick—just gently, | swear it! In an instant my mountain sank from view! I squinted feverishly at the radiator cap; it was still there—above me—but my mountain was gone! It had dropped off into unknown spaces; possibly had fallen into the lake. I felt dully horrified. I couldn’t reason. | just sat there quietly and pulled, but ever so gently, gently. CONTINUED ON PAGE 82

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in eaoerdne ee > , i> Ae 30 NDER the long sunshine of the arctic sum- mer Bering Sea showed a sullen, smoky gray. Far to the north was the apple green of the Arctic Ocean and to the south the gentian blue of the vast Pacific; but here, among iron- bound cliffs and rocky, frequent islands, the swirling currents of this prisoned sea were as somber as their surroundings. ck from the coast rippled brown- purple waves of wild wheat, sown thick with golden poppies and fringed with the red and white of the wild phlox. The sheering winter winds allowed no trees to gain a foothold save the creeping willow, a curious little tree which grew to an extreme height of six inches and then bent over and crept along the ground like a cucumber vine and in half a century never grew larger around than a man’s wrist. yond the plateau which stretched to the edge of the cliffs towered a vast peak down the side of which crept a river of shining ice, one of the many glaciers of which the beginnings were lost in the mists of the snow-covered summit. From where it touched the level, three streams rushed from the melting ice white as milk; while up to the very edge of the ice field and along the banks of the rushing torrents grew such flower fields as only an arctic sun ever sees. Masses of larkspur ran the whole gamut of the rose tints—madder carmine, old rose, lilac rose, Tyrian rose and crimson carmine. Around this vivid mass was a setting of pure white larkspur. Then came gentian, bluer than the sky or the bluebird’s back or the eggs of the veery. Every- where were masses of crimson and gold poppies, tur- quoise slabs of wild forget-me-nots, wine-red phlox, orange-tawny devil's paintbrush and a dozen different kinds of saxifrage showing through tangles of pink and blue wild sweet pea. Close to the stream the green of the thick, soft grass was stained scarlet with the blood-dipped leaves of the painted cup and all purple-white and dusky gold with iris. EYOND the flower fields, along the cliff side of the gla- cier, the air was filled with bird notes. From inaccessible shelves of rock came the muffled croaking of the murres or arries, as the Eskimo calls them. Looking like rows of cham- pagne bottles, each female brooded her single egg, the shell of which is so tough that the egg hunters throw them into sacks as if they were potatoes. There were heavy burgo- master gulls, guarding their nests of dry grass and sea fern opment the kittiwakes, skuas and other sky pirates; snowy, glaucous gulls and sea parrots or puffins, which dig burrows like rabbits and nest underground; while everywhere drifted clouds of plump little auks which the Eskimos catch in long nets at the end of poles as boys do butterflies. At the top of the cliff, looking hungrily down at the ledges below, stood a large dog fox. He was chunkier and more heavily furred than the red foxes of the Eastern States, and his fur was of that strange, smoky blue which marks a cross between the arctic white fox and the blue Pribilof fox. Although his head was rounder and lacked the sly, cun- ning aspect of the eon. face Mae ce’. UN ae ao Ss Oe ‘ , . Wee ert peer be yi . ba Nearer and Nearer They Circled, Intent Upon Investigating That Soft Mass of Wind-Blown Fur and the Waving, Fluffy Plume HOME JOURNAL April, 1920 WATER BABY By Samuel Scoville, Jr. ILLUSTRATIONS BY CARTON MOOREPARK Eastern foxes, this one had all of the wile and wisdom of his race. Far down below him he spied the nest of a double- crested cormorant or shag, as the sailors call these black birds, which fly in a V, like geese. The nest of this one was approached by a faint shadowy path, which in places scarcely showed against the cliff face. Without an instant’s hesitation the fox started to follow it down the dizzy precipice, although from below it seemed to be hardly more than a line against the sheer face of rock. He went down like a fly, picking his way with quick, per- fectly balanced, tiny steps, although a red or a gray fox would have lost its footing and been dashed to pieces a hundred feet below before it had gone five yards. At places where the path stopped, the lithe animal would spring downward, landing with all four feet bunched together on almost imperceptible pro- jections upon which he would rock back and forth in midair until he had gained his balance, his fluffy brush streaming in the wind. At last he reached the cormorant’s ledge from which the sooty bird flapped scream- ing. In another minute the fox was on his way back with a large egg bal- anced carefully in his narrow pointed jaws. P AND UP he retraced his steps, zigzagging along the cliff face as if there were no such thing as gravita- tion. There were times when, perched and wavering on tiny points and pin- nacles of rock after a leap upward, it seemed as if the mere weight of the egg would be enough to overbalance him and send him crashing down to the rocks below. Yet each time he caught and held his balance and went on higher unhesitatingly and surely, until his last spring landed him in -_—y on the level ground above the cliff. There, at the very brink of the cliff, he crouched and carefully breaking the larger end of the egg sucked out its savory contents without losing a drop, while his tail streamed out into mid-air over the sheer edge of the precipice as he ate. Aroused by the lamentations of the bereaved cormorant, a cloud of gulls, kittiwakes and cormorants swooped and screamed around the fox and with shrill cries whirled and veered above him. Unmoved by the tumult, he moved placidly away from the cliff side, curled up in the bright sunshine and apparently fell asleep, a fluffy mass of gray-blue fur which streamed and waved in the wind. Around this the inquisitive birds began to circle closer and closer. UDDENLY the soft, thick brush of the fox was thrust up and gently moved back and forth and then dropped back into the mass of loosely waving fur which lay stretched along the rock. The sight of this long streamer appearing and disappearing at short intervals aroused the birds to a frenzy of curiosity. Nearer and nearer they circled, intent upon investi- gating that soft mass of wind-blown fur and the wav- ing, fluffy plume which bloomed and disappeared before them. One ablebodied shag, with a peculiarly shrill voice, was especially anxious to know all about the strange object. He found out. As with outstretched neck and open beak he circled not a yard above the waving brush, something hap- pened so flashing quick that even his strong wings did not avail him. The apparently sleeping fox shot up five feet into the air as if a spring had been sud- denly released and his keen jaws snapped shut like a trap on the long neck of the shag, cutting short a particularly loud squawk. With a flirt of his head the fox broke the neck of his captive and, swinging the quivering body over his shoulder, trotted down the long, level slope of the promontory toward where a series of black, flat rocks showed dimly through the mist at the end of the point. Away from the jeweled flower fields and the crystal glacier the fox hastened toward the black rocks, the white mist and the gray water. He was halfway to the shore when a chorus of grunting, unearthly bellows broke from out of the mist and echoed up and down the shore. “‘Ook-ook-ook!”’ It came again, something like the grunting of a drove of vast pigs, and then rose in strength and volume as if a herd of bull elephants were trumpeting. The trotting fox cocked up one of his ears wisely and kept on toward the threaten- ing tumult in the fog to some secret place he had in mind, where he would cache his Pm | hardly won cormorant. He ‘ knew that the sounds only announced the arrival of the walrus herd which neither helps nor harms foxes. ““Awuk,”’ asthe Eskimocalls the walrus, had come down with the summer from the far north where all winter he had dwelt on the ice floes. Now he would bask under the summer sun on the gravel beaches and stretches of rock while his families disported them- selves in the warmer waters away from the never- melting ice fields of the arctic. | WAS a day of rain fogs, through which the sun would break at intervals all haloed with rainbows and trailing clouds of glory as it circled the sky. Suddenly, like the rising of a great drop curtain, the mist rolled up and left the shore in the spot light of the summer sun. Against a background of curling fog, in a glare of vivid yellow from the low-lying, unsetting sun, on tables of flat, black, basalt rock were stretched a long semicircle of beasts, strangest of all those upon which the sun shines. Uglier than the rhinoceros, vaster than the hippopotamus, more unearthly and unnatural than the wart hog or the duckbill, the monsters sprawled out in the sunlight as if left over from some other age. Each one lay on his chosen rock, for the walrus will never long trust his huge bulk to a beach if he can find a flat rock on which to get a solid hold for his fore flippers to pry up and move ahead his vast heavy body. Only the walrus bulls were out on the rocks. The cows and calves of the vast family were playing and feeding and resting in the water beyond. As they lay there in the bright light, the bulls were un- believably ugly. Vast, shapeless masses of flesh, they would weigh from a ton to three thousand pounds and were cov- ered with bare, wrinkled, warty, yellowish-brown hides, the thickest of those possessed by any mammal. An old walrus bull may have a hide that on his neck and shoulders will be fully three inches thick, while he himself may measure thir- teen feet in length and fourteen feet in girth. The strangest part of their strange figures were the heads. Contrasted with the blubber-covered shoulders and bloated, warted necks, they seemed to be small, although each one would weigh perhaps eighty pounds. The eyes, nostrils and ear passages were set on top of the head, which was almost flat above, giving a strange, uncanny appearance to the face. Set deep in the wrinkled skin were small eyes of light brown, which rolled back and forth and around in every direction. Long, gray bristles, thick as porcupine quills, hid the bases of the tusks and, set thick on the upper lip, made each wal- rus look like some grim mustached ogre, while below the mustache was the menace of the long ivory tusks. Their steel strength, backed up by the pile-driving weight behind them, make a weapon against which no animal of this con- tinent can stand. A LONG line the monsters lay upon their basalt tables, like vast slugs. Suddenly a walrus at the end of the line reared up, grunted once or twice and looked around in every direction. Then, jabbing his nearest neighbor sharply with his tusks, he lay down again to sleep. The prodded walrus next door roused up, grunted indignantly, looked all around Re acl —na A = -— 1 — QO sD oe Ss — as 7_—~™ - . 3

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Seen piney April, 1920 HOME JOURNAL 31 The Sound of His Mate’s Distress Call Aroused ~ the Bull to Fury in an Instant. Under His Code He Must Fight to the Death for Mate or Calf cat with rolling eyes and sniffing nostrils, and then passed the jab which he had received on to the next one, who went through the same performance in his turn. This primitive system of telegraphy went on unceasingly throughout the herd so that always there was one walrus who had been prodded into watchfulness and was on the alert for any danger. When the end of the line was reached the message was telegraphed back again by the tusks of the end walrus. Just opposite the first walrus in the line, a grizzled, scarred, vast old veteran, floated a mother walrus. Out in the dim water she rocked to and fro in the swirling cur- rents, bolt upright, like some vast spar buoy. Although on shore she looked like a huge, moth-eaten hair trunk or a bloated, shapeless bag of oil, in the water her unwieldy bulk took on lines of grace and motion never seen on land. As the fore flippers, set flat at almost right angles to the body, swayed in the luminous, gray-green water, there was a suggestion of strength and even of speed in their motion. The muscles of the short, stumpy forearm were like thick wire cables and were capable of hoisting a dead weight of two thousand pounds up on to an ice floe or a rock table. The hind flippers had no legs, but streamed out behind like a flat, notched tail far beyond the real tail of the walrus, which was only about three inches long. The head seemed tiny, compared to the huge, gnarled body, and the skull was so faced and reénforced with flat, solid masses of bone to bear the brunt of the pickax blows of the tusks, that it seemed as if there were no room for any brain at all. Yet along its own lines the walrus is one of the wariest and wisest of animals, and the man or beast who judges its ability by its appearance is apt to be deceived. S THIS walrus cow floated with her nostrils just out of water, her dulled, bleared, popping eyes were shut. An occasional automatic stroke from her fore fligpers kept her from drifting into the surf, and she lay in the changing tides apparently asleep. Beside her vast bulk swam her calf. It was only about four feet long and had a close, short, brown coat of hair that contrasted with the bare skin of his giant mother. His two canine teeth, which would not grow into tusks until after he had grown to the size of his parents, now showed only about two inches long. _ Sometimes he went off on long, perilous expeditions fully six feet away from his guardian, but he never stayed away more than a few seconds. Always some overpowering terror would drive him sculling back for dear life with his little fore flippers until he butted into the vast bulk with his flat little head. Young as he was he had learned that sea and land are full of dangers for the babies of the wild folk, even when they can claim the lion of the North as father. Again he would nuzzle closely under the sheltering, protecting flippers of the cow and drink his fill of warm rich milk be- neath the cold, heaving water. Always the little calf watched the water carefully all about him, and the least suspicious movement sent him scuttling back to his mother. Once a black shape swept past the dozing cow and the calf scuttled behind her like a flash. It was only a black fish, one of the smallest and happiest of the whales. With its huge, Square head it looks like a miniature sperm whale. It is too small to be hunted by the whale hunters and too large to be killed by any of the fierce hunters under the water. Its great mouth is so shaped that it always has a smiling, jolly look, so that it was no wonder that the old walrus did not even open her eyes as it passed, although in spite of its being small for a whale it was probably five or six times the weight of the cow. A little later a plaintive whistle sounded through the mist, which still drifted here and there across the water. It seemed to come from the very surface of the sea and yet was unlike the note of any bird. A moment later a spectral white shape drifted past, which raised its head to the surface, and once more a gurgling, plaintive whistle sounded not ten feet away from the walrus family. Again the startled calf slipped behind the vast bulk of his mother, but the cow paid no more attention to the beluga or white whale than it had to the black fish. The beluga is as harmless as its cousin, the black fish, but not so happy, since it is hunted for its hide, which is the porpoise skin of commerce. CARCELY had this phantom of the sea passed by than far away on the top of a distant swell something glittered and flashed like blue steel. Although the old cow’s eyes were apparently shut and her ears and nostrils half submerged in the water, she must have caught sight or sound of the blue fin which came whirling through the water like a torpedo. Like a flash the old walrus straightened out in the water, pushed her calf under her protecting flippers and swam straight down to the bottom. There she anchored herself with her tusks in the deep ooze while above her on the trail of the white whale the swordfish flashed by, a lambent streak of blue fire. Only the mightiest of the whales can withstand the attack of this torpedo of the seas. For a long time after the swordfish had passed the two crouched on the bottom. It was not until the calf needed air that the old cow cautiously swam with him to the sur- face. An hour passed, and only sun and rainbow mist and the black herd of watchful bulls were to be seen. Slowly the old cow upended and again seemed to be dozing in the heav- ing tides, although there was little that could be seen or heard or smelt that escaped her. Unfortunately, floating on the sunlighted surface, she could be seen from below at a much greater distance than her eyes could pierce the cloudy depths. Ten fathoms beneath her and an equal distance away two cold, deadly eyes watched the calf frisking around and around the sleeping cow. Slowly there swam into sight from below a hideous, sinister shape. It had the undershot jaw studded with the cruel teeth of the shark family, and as it drifted upward its cold, greenish, implacable eyes never wavered a second from the little calf. The upper lobe of the forked tail of the stranger tapered out in a crescent curve nearly as long as the rest of the body of the monster. It was edged like a scimitar while its pointed tip was like a long whip of gristle and flexible bone. P AND UP the monstrous shape drifted, until it was not ten feet below the gamboling calf. Then, with a quick movement, the thresher shark, for the stranger was none other, suddenly balanced itself upon its head in the water so that the enormous, curved, flail-like tail was partly out of the water. Instantly throwing itseif downward and to one side, the monster landed a slashing blow at the calf which would have cut the life out of his tender body if it had landed. But the movement in the water had caught the timorous little walrus’ eye and he plunged again back of the protecting bulk of his mother. The blow of that terrible tail landed partly on the water and partly on the side and shoulder of the sleeping walrus with a cracking smash that could have been heard a mile. So sharp was the keen edge of the tail and so heavy the blow that a slash six inches wide and three feet in length was made right through the tough hide of the walrus. Where the keen point of the tail came out below the shoulder it brought blood with it. The main part of the stroke, how- ever, was wasted against the tremendous thickness of the walrus’ tough skin. It was an unfortunate blow for that shark. Before it had time to recover its former position or to swing out of danger, the infufiated walrus drove its head downward like a flash and sunk both of her long tusks, keener and slenderer than those of the bulls, deep into the drab back of the monster. It twisted and struggled and snapped with its vicious jaws, and finally, with a tremendous effort, it tore itself loose, with two ghastly gashes down the side of the back, and swam away, leaving a long trail of blood behind. This ended the mother’s nap for that morning. Grunting with rage, she swam with the calf through the surf, and then, in the lee of the rocks occupied by the herd of bulls, plunged down to the bottom again and groped up clams with her tusks on which she fed greedily, swallowing them down with seaweed, stones and shells in accordance with the table manners of the walrus family. OURS later, full fed and the perils of the morning for- gotten, once again she floated in her favorite place while the calf drank contentedly from the warm, unfailing foun- tain of life which had been his ever since his birth. Far up on the gleaming white of the glacier a cream- colored spot appeared. It grew larger and larger until, when it reached the edge of the water, it showed the long, loose- jointed, lithe, snake-headed form of the polar bear, the cruel, silent, swift tiger of the north. Suddenly it seemed to dis- appear. It had dropped to the white surface of the glacier and was crawling stealthily to the water’s edge with only its black muzzle, black lips and the black rings of its eyes showing against the white surface. Like a shadow it stole along and slipped into the icy water with all of a shadow’s stillness. Diving deep, the great bear swam diagonally toward the water beyond the surf-swept walrus rocks, where the walrus mother rocked in the long swells that at the shore broke in thundering surf. Filling his great bellows-like lungs with a supply of air, the bear swam swiftly and surely so deep under water that his fur looked like frosted silver. Not until he had passed through the surf and was in the still water beyond did he venture to the surface. Then only the tip of his black muzzle and a momentary gleam of his cruel little eyes appeared. The one look showed him the walrus mother still sleeping, with the calf playing happily round her. : As he swam under the water on one of his little tours of exploration, the little calf suddenly saw a spectral, white CONTINUED ON PAGE 142

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HOME JOURNAL

April, 1920

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A Virginia Viscountess | By Helena Lefroy Caperton N ONE corner of a broad, quiet street in Richmond, Virginia, there is a stately -gray Co- lonial house. Upon each side of its hospitable doors are fine magnolia trees, standing senti- nel over the many guests who are hourly made welcome. Its garden and street lie basking in the Southern sunshine as out from the doorway there springs a fairy figure with golden curls and dancing feet. The sleepy street becomes alive. Through the gate and around the corner the little figure goes, call- ing her mates around her, and her view halloo is answered far and wide with: ‘Hi, there, Nafinie! Nannie Langhorne’s come out,” * The day’s fun has begun, and we are ready to follow our Pied Piper into whatever fascinating mischief she may ‘lead us. I am writing of a period be- tween the ages of eleven and seventeen years. Then, as now, the girl Nannie Langhorne, who is now Lady Astor, M.P., was a vivid personality, a born leader, throwing her whole burning vitality into all she did, into every game and warm- hearted act, and for that reason doing most things just a little better than any- one else. Max O’Rell has said: ‘Some people are as dead as they are ever going to be,” and these move on the screen of memory as pale ghosts, gradually fading till nothing of them remains; but of this dynamic play- mate little will ever be lost. When we read of her in that high place of honor to which she has attained we feel a warm rush of love to the heart, and we say: ‘“ Just the same old Nannie after all’; for it is those qualities of generosity, abounding sympathy, absolute honesty and lack of affectation, added to her quick wit and sense of humor, which have placed her where she is to-day. Her great, comprehensive love and sympathy are expressed in the following characteristic incident: Late one Christmas Eve, Mrs. Langhorne was busy among the white-and-red parcels when Nannie ran in. ‘‘Oh, mother,” she cried, “‘we forgot to get a present for the slop lady, and I’m so afraid her feelings will be hurt!” ; The slop lady was a vast Negress of most unpro- pitiating aspect, who called daily at the back gate in behalf of her pigs; but her feelings were of the utmost concern to Nannie. Y RECOLLECTIONS do not seem to codrdi- nate, but to recur in high lights, each one as separate and distinct as the personality of which I write. I recall particularly the time I came upon her as she stood, arms flung out, eyes and cheeks blazing, holding at bay a crowd of toughs who had been tor- menting a poor, simple-minded lad whose body had outgrown his darkened mind. He towered above her slender figure, but she stood gallantly between him and those who had despitefully used him,and under the stinging scorn of her wrath they slunk away. Remembering thisand many other incidents of like nature, one feels that these perilous times are made more safe and the world richer now that Lady Astor has come into her high office. She had a col- lection of protégés which must have distracted any ex- cept the mother who bore her, a mother to whose sweet, tranquil per- sonality and level head I here pay tribute. There was“ Blind Willie,’”’ who sold papers up and down the street. He would go tapping his stick in front of him and waiting at crossings for some kindly hand to guide him over. en 20 — 04 — a9 eon > INRA IF RRA 0797 | ae) om & you oo OqQxr————— PHOTO. BY A. HOMEIER Nancy Langhorne, a Generation Ago, Off for the Hunt— Not the Recent One for a Seat in Parliament PHOTO. BY HOMEIER & CLARK Lady Astor, British M. P., When She Was Miss Lang- horne, Débutante “Hello, Willie!”” we would say when he came to our particular stamping ground. ‘Hello, chil- luns!’’ he would answer, calling us each by name as we spoke to him separately. To try him, Nannie would sometimes keep silent, but he would turn his sightless face unerringly to where she stood and say: “I ain’t heerd my little mist’ess yit, but I know she thar,’’ and point with his stick. Sometimes we would say: ‘No, Willie, that’s Miss Phyllis.” UT he would shake his head and show his teeth in a cheerful grin. “Naw, child, you can’t fool Willie. I knows Miss Nannie fum here to de Lee monymint.” In the yard she gave him his dinner on certain days, and by way of thanks he would sing in a voice of melting pathos, ‘Swing Low, Sweet Chariot’ and ‘“‘The Waves Washed Peter to His Lord.” Mammy ’Liza regarded these acts of mercy with stern disapproval. ‘I don’t see to save mah life,”’ she would say, ‘‘what yo’ and Miss Phyllis and dese here young ladies want to be foolin’ roun’ dis low-lifeted nigger, gittin’ anything fum scarlet fever to fleas, when yo’ might be setten up genteel in your mah’s parlor.” oe “ << ATT TZZII LIA NI LIL or ‘ Tip ys . = oe 77727 Tidddd MMe * "G3. 03 —\RNSAAAARA BRRANRAA "UO 0 PHOTO. BY VERNON GALLERY And Nannie Langhorne, When She Was box, “Leader of the Langhorne Gang,” With Bess “Oh, hush up, mammy, you old snob,”’ would be the retort; then to mammy’s indignant back: ‘‘ Mammy goestochurch all the time, but it must be an awful mean kind of religion she gets.’”’ Then there was “Tawm’’— if he had another name no one ever heard it. He was a jolly little Negro, with eyes in the top of his head like a frog. Having found him forlorn and starving on the streets, Nannie never rested till she had put him into a blue suit with brass but- tons to open the door to visitors. This was most practical, as well as providing a haven for the homeless ‘‘Tawm,”’ for it took a servant’s en- tire time to open that ever-welcoming door. HERE also were the Confederate veterans in the Old Soldiers’ Home, whose drab days she made more happy by frequent visits; and in the wards of the Children’s Hospital little faces brightened at her com- ing. If, however, Iseem to have por- trayed a pious child, this word picture is a failure. Many were the predictions that we would all come to a bad ‘end, led thither by Nancy, such were the es- capades and scrapes of the Langhorne “gan Mage Nannie and Phyllis shared, with the younger brother Buck, the proud posses- sion of two Angora goats and a cart. The coming of these goats into the family was in this wise: Irene, the still young and beautiful Mrs. Gibson, was a débutante that winter. I recall the joy and pride with which we younger girls would watch her dress for a ball, and her sustained good temper at our depredations upon bouquets, bonbons and favors. As they say in fairy tales, “‘many lovers sought the hand of this fair lady,” and by the same token their loss was the gain of the younger members in the family, for all endeavored to obtain merit in their eyes, and one paid tribute by presenting the pair of goats. When these animals arrived they were things of beauty, but after the departure of the smart groom who escorted them South they ceased to be a ‘‘joy for- ever’’—the neighbors would have said “if ever’’—and they became plain goat, : with all the aroma and gas- tronomic pro- pensities the name implies. They ate everything from the har- ness in the stable to Mrs. Langhorne’s spring bulbs; they climbed up on the kitchen sink and ate the soap; they drove nearly to madness_ the darkies in the outside offices ‘and kitchen; for if there is any illicit eat- ing and drink- ing to be done, self-respecting family Negroes prefer to do it themselves.

OW we adored those goats and, with Nancy on the would drive out to the boulevard. Everyone hailed us with more or less derisive epithets and many held their noses; not having then become ac- customed to gasoline polluting the air, they noticed this “‘bouquet d’Angora”’ with resentment. But Nancy was never at a loss for repartee in defense of our pets. . One day we started out in the goat wagon, Nancy on the box seat, hatless, yellow hair flying and sailor collar open at the throat. We were on our way toa confectioner’s to regale ourselves with ices. Tying the goats across the street, we proceeded to sit around a marble-top table and refresh ourselves, SSE ee) CONTINUED ON PAGE 92

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April, 1920 HOME JOURNAL ae es 2” 2 » e Just the reverse of “H. C. L.” And it means “Let Campbell’s Help.” Let these tempting, wholesome Campbell's Soups help lower your high cost of living by their remarkable food value and their saving of waste, fuel, labor and time. _ Let Campbell’s help make your home table more inviting. Let Campbell’s help keep the family in better health and condition. There's a world of this real helpfulness in Campbell’s Vegetable Soup It is rich in nourishment and energy value. It supplies the very body-building elements you most need. It is almost a meal in itself. We wish you could see the choice delicious vegetables we use, the fine herbs, strength giving barley and selected beef from which we make the invigorating stock. No home kitchen could supply such a soup at the price. And you would find it hard to produce a better one at any price. 15c a can 21 kinds “This feast so delicious | bring you 33 ee ee pele ee a YOU ” ~. JOSEPH GAMPBELL GOMPANY Sree AMDEN, N.J.,U-SA- YE"MARK REG NOS, a 7153+ 4046 ul 71536 yy To gladden your heart and your eyes The H. C. of L. cannot sting you WhenCampbell provides the supplies.” LOOK FOR SS R2D AND Wrllrs LASS

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am RU SKE € pe a Rae ee ae ad + ay —s: ete Sees PO So ” At (very 1 Move our Hand- our_Nails are Conspicuous Notice today and count the number of times some- one glances at your nails. OU jot down a memorandum— instantly eyes are attracted to your hands. you is formed, based upon the appearance of your nails. Eyes follow a moving object automati- cally, follow it as inevitably as they blink when something suddenly flies towards them. Nature makes eyes that way. When you sign a check, examine a piece of cloth, take a stitch, adjust your hat, lift a spoon to your lips, point at something, make a gesture—you will see eyes following your finger tips. You will be amazed to find how many times in one day people glance at your nails. At each glance a judgment is made Consciously or unconsciously people judge you by the appearance of your hands. Indeed, some people make a practice of basing their estimate of a new acquaintance largely upon this one detail. They say it is an unfailing index to fastidiousness, to innate refinement. People no longer excuse unsightly hands. For it is generally known that nowadays well- kept nails are simply a matter of a little care. However busy you may be, however hard you use your hands, you need never be ashamed of your finger nails. It requires only a few minutes of the right kind of care Instantly a judgment of HOME JOURNAL ito bait.” Cae itagg ai” Bape s once or twice a week to keep them in per- fect condition. But be sure it is the right kind of care. Skin specialists everywhere are agreed that much unkempt, inflamed cuticle is due to cutting. Sometimes, too, injuries to the delicate nail root are caused in the same way, for it has a protective covering of only one-twelfth inch of cuticle. The safe and satisfactory method of caring for the cuticle is softening and wiping away. This is easily done by the use of Cutex, the pure liquid cuticle remover. The simple, effective Cutex method of manicuring takes less time than the old pain- MY WA ful cutting of the cuticle, and it is absolutely harmless. Cutex Nail White and Nail Polish complete a perfect manicure. You will be astonished at the wonderful results you can obtain from one Cutex mani- cure. Repeated once or twice a week, it will keep your nails in perfect condition. Cutex can be obtained at every drug store or department store in 35c and 6sc bottles. Cutex Nail White, Nail Polish and Cold Cream are each 35c. Six complete manicures for 20 cents Mail the coupon below with two dimes; we will send you the Cutex Introductory Manicure Set, not as large as our Standard Set but containing enough of the Cutex prep- arations for at least six complete manicures. Address Northam Warren 114 West 17th Street, New York City If you live in Canada, address Northam Warren, Dept.104, 200 Mountain St., Montreal This method is the secret of the perfect, even cuticie of many fashionable women Mail this coupon with two dimes today Street and Number i NORTHAM WARREN : Dept. 104, 114 West 17th Street, New York City | City and State / \ Oh ZA Fans be xy ey, (Be An OMe tgif Me 1 By eat * es

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April, 1920 HOME JOURNAL Unless this country is made a good place for all of us to live in, it won’t be a good place for any of us to live in THEODORE ROOSEVELT. _ Everyman’s Child ITV—How New York Gives Home Life to 16,000 Children: By Sophie Irene Loeb HE first big effort made in America to keep the family intact and secure proper home life for every child whoisa public charge or a prospective one has been the establishment of mothers’ or widows’ pensions. This ini- tial step has been taken in the interest of Everyman’s Child by the local government of the community to pay money for his proper upbringing when poverty, or neglect through poverty, is his chief trouble. Already forty-one states, as well as Hawaii and Alaska, have laid this foundation for securing home life for their public wards or those who may become such. This fact clearly demonstrates that the principle of governmental aid for the child under sixteen years old in the community interest of his future citizen- ship has been safely and surely established. Yet it is not enough. Thousands of other chil- dren, greatly in need of the strong arm of the lo- cal government of the community, cannot yet come within the provisions of these laws. But a start has been made. In New York City sixteen thousand children are cared for in the homes of their five thou- sand widowed mothers, with appropriations made by the city authorities in accordance with the state law. It has proved possible so to administer these appropriations that more than ninety-six per cent of the money actually reaches the poor as intended. As president of that board and a first-hand ob- server of similar work in Europe and the United States, I know of no piece of relief work where the money is distributed with more directness and less fraud on the public than this. It shows what can be done by a systematic and careful study of each family and its needs. How the Work is Carried On OW is this done? As soon as possible after re- ceiving the application from the widow she is called to the office to make a sworn statement con- taining all pertinent facts as to her income, expendi- tures, the number and ages of her children, and so on. This application is then taken into the field by the investigator, the widow visited in her own home and the two references given by the widow are inter- viewed. Her income is then fixed, and from the references—the church, the school, or relatives—the investigator ascertains whether the widow is a proper person to care for the children in her own home and, further, whether she would have to commit her chil- dren toan institution ifan allowance were not granted. The investigator not only attends to the legal re- quirements, the questions of citizenship, the resi- dence of husband at the time of his death, and so on, but whenever possible she learns through the employment bureau about the children misplaced in industry, secures vocational opportunities for those who would be benefited thereby, assures her- self that proper medical attention is secured for those who need it, and in general acts as a helpful adviser to the widow whenever necessary. The board is required by law to obtain certain facts concerning every widow who applies for an allowance. This includes a complete investigation of every application and it has been found possible to make a thorough one without in any way injuring the pride or self-respect of the widow. Granting the Allowance 5k committee on families, composed of three members of the board, including the president ex officio, passes on the application of every widow for an allowance after the field or outside in- vestigation has been made. If this investigation indicates that the widow is a proper person to bring up her children—and only fourteen out of four thousand acted upon have proved ineligible for this reason—the committee then determines whether the need of the widow is such as would force her to com- mit her child or children to a public institution either immediately or in the near future. To determine this point the board has adopted a budget system, providing for an expenditure by the widow sufficient to supply the necessaries of life. As the statute in New York is only a permissive one—that is, the appropriations may be made by the city authorities, but they do not have to make them—the Board of Child Welfare plans for the ap- propriation, which was approximately two million dollars last year, to be made to reach as far as possible. The effort is to keep as many homes together as the appropriation will allow. That five thousand widows and sixteen thousand children have been kept together in their homes and good results ob- tained on a comparatively small expenditure is to the credit of those intrusted with the administration of the law throughout the state. In New York City, where congestion is the greatest, a carefully worked out budget was urgently needed in order to keep within the appropriation. The Family Budget of 1919 ERE is a sample monthly budget for a widow and three children, which was prepared in ac- cordance with 1919 prices: Bent. ..« . $16.00 up to $23, according to location. Poo ..... ear Fuel . i 3.00 Widow’s earnings (3 days’ iC” aa 1.25 work per week at $2.50 Clothing 10.00 per day) . $30.00 Sundries 3.50 Allowance 39.00 $63.02 $69.00 The food expenditure is based in general upon a graded scale, allowing from thirty-five cents a day for a male adult to seventeen cents and a half a day foraninfant. A larger food allowance is granted where illness, especially tuberculosis, requires it. It is a minimum food allowance and provides only plain, wholesome food for the family in quantities large enough to insure against underfeeding. Rent is provided in sufficient amount to assure the widow a decent, sanitary home in which to live, one in which the health of the family can in no way be endangered. The policy of the board has been to move widows out of miserable basements and dark, rear tenements into clean, light, airy rooms. CYT TEKITITITIITIIIrrirersreririrrs CI rIErIrirrrrirrrrelrllilllsririrrriil ee hee AAAS he Four dollars and twenty-five cents a month is allowed to all families for fuel and light. The clothing allowance is on the basis of two dollars and fifty cents a month for each member of the family. One dollar a month is allowed for sundries for the first three members of a family, and fifty cents for each additional mem- c. All the carfares spent in going to work are included in the budget. From the sum total of this bud- get the income of the family is subtracted and the balance is granted as an allowance, providing it in no case exceeds the amount which the city would pay to an insti- tution for the care of the child or chil- dren. Wherever, in the opinion of the board, the mother is engaged in work of which the hours or character plainly en- danger her health or make necessary the neg- lect of her home and children, she is required to change her work and in some cases to give all her time to her household duties. In families where the health is poor, one-tenth is added to the budget. One-fifth 1s added in the case of tuber- cular families. Not Objects of Charity HE board has in general granted the difference between the budget and the income, with some modifications to fit special conditions. Every effort is made to make the family understand that they are not objects of charity, and the following letter is sent to every widow with the first check: Dear Madam: The Board of Child Welfare of New York City has decided to grant you a monthly allowance of $— beginning «—. In accordance with the law, such al- lowance is granted for a period of six months only and may be revoked or decreased by the board at any time. The board is, however, empowered to continue the allowance for a longer period in its discretion. You will receive your first monthly payment in the form of a check soon after —— and a like amount early every month. The check will be made out to your name and must be indorsed by you in order to be cashed. Should you not receive your check promptly, please notify the Board of Child Welfare, Room 2, City Hall, of that fact. You must also notify the board of any change in your address, otherwise your payment may be greatly de- layed. Send old and new addresses. This allowance is granted to you by New York City for the purpose of assisting you to give proper care to your children, and the Board of Child Welfare will expect you to expend the money in ways that will contribute to the health and education of the children. This allowance is not given as charity, but in accordance with the laws of the state. It is the desire of the board to be of every possible service to your children. Therefore, do not hesitate to call at the offices of the board at any time to consult with us on any matters pertaining to their welfare. Sincerely yours, Executive Secretary. Adequate Allowances and Reinvestigations T IS the belief of the board that, where the income of a family is below a certain point, the family must of necessity deteriorate by reason of insufh- ciency of food, lack of clothing, and improper and un- fit housing. Any efficient program for the treatment of widows and their children must give assurance that at least this ‘indispensable minimum”’ shall be made possible to each and all alike; for without it no amount of struggle and self-sacrifice will enable the mother to look forward to a time when her father- less children shall pass into fit adulthood. The assistance given should also be sufficient in amount to relieve the mother from being forced to CONTINUED ON PAGE 139

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a tht ee Aaiyglaee ne eee 3 a a ee HO M F JOU R N A L April, 192(¢ In a great Paramount Artcraft Picture CECIL B.de MILLE asks “Why Change Your Wife?” ' | ‘HE master-director who made that great Para- mount Artcraft Picture, “‘Male and Female,” has done it again! All the luxury of setting, all the insight into the hearts of wives and husbands, are here in the same wonderful degree. Now, Cecil B.de Mille asks, “ Why Change Your Wife?” His former picture, “Don’t Change Your Husband,” treated matrimony from the wife’s point of view: this is from the husband's. The cast includes Thomas Meighan as the husband, Gloria Swanson as the wife he changed and Bebe Daniels as the other woman. THOMAS MEIGHAN How Love—snared in the monotony of marriage— as shall be kept as lastingly happy as the honeymoon, is THE the problem, and the solving of it is conducted amid all the mysteries of the powder puff, the perfume spray HUSBAND | and the silks that shimmer at eve, travla ! Underneath the shining surface of the vanities you soon see one tremendous reason why it isn’t worth while to change your wife—maybe you can guess it, but that’s nothing like seeing it all worked out in life’s own pattern! DANIELS as || THE OTHER]| ¢ 7 mm F 07S al Jesse L. Lasky Bo Presents B DeMille’s hange You By WILLIAM De MILLE FAMOUS PLAYERS - LASKY CORPORATION [A ce ADOLPH ZUKOR Pres JESSE L. LAGS he res CECI. B.DE MILLE Derector General a GLORIA SWANSON as THOMAS | MEIGHAN ese, : THE WIFE Pan B yen _— / j 1 HE CHANGED wae | aan z Af 4GParam ount Aricraft GPicture | re ee } Wl (Co ° °' DK W Sel Soin

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20 April, 1920 ants Oe HOME JOURNAL > (SS ae 6 ae i Daily Life in the Diplomatic Corps. HEN I came back to my own country before the war wasended I was rather amused by all the placards on which, in every style of print, we were adjured to ‘“ Keep Smiling.”” As everybody’s anxiety increased it was rather a hard thing to do; but in every department of life there is no doubt that a smile counts much more than the most vivid expression of any other kind of feeling. In the everyday life of the diplomatic corps the smile counts for a great deal. For diploma- tists are like gypsies—here to-day and gone to-morrow. Foreign diplomatists—especially the English—are more fortunate than the Americans, since their govern- ments supply them with the most important pieces of furniture, and the process of moving is not so try- ing. The secretaries in our service, especially if married, have a partic- ularly bad time when it is a ques- tion of removal, since the State Department is not allowed to pay the traveling expenses of their wives or the freight on their furniture. A secretary must be rich indeed to stand a change of place, sometimes three times a year, from Peru to Rome, from Rome to Den- mark, and from Denmark to Persia. The French embassies and legations have beautiful sets of Sévres and lovely Gobelin tapestry furnished by the government. Wheneveranew British minister arrives his government sends a man to its legation to discover what improvements ought to be made, what rugs are needed, whether the palace has a proper portrait of the king and queen, and whether the chandeliers in the ballroom are worthy of the new reign. Sir Ralph and Lady Paget had a very good establishment in Copenhagen; the ballroom, although it could not be used in time of war, was newly decorated; but the successor of Sir Ralph will be entitled to have everything changed to suit his taste. Speaking of smiles, this is one reason why the wife of a British diplomatist would find it easier to smile than some of her colleagues! A Queen Beloved Because She Smiles VE WERE all interested in Spain during the war. We knew rather well the attitude of Sweden, Norway, Denmark and Holland toward the Allies; but we were all rather anxious to know how things stood in Spain, and whether the English con- sort of the Spanish king was popular or not. Prince Viggo Liked Coming to Tea, and His Father Accused Him of Preferring Our House to the Palace Because He Was Better Fed! “She is loved by everybody,” the Spanish minister said. “What does she say? How does she make her impression?’’ a young lady asked. “‘She smiles,” the minister answered, ‘and every- body loves her for that!” I am reminded of a question which has been asked DECORATIVE CARTOONS BY M. L. the diplomatic life ds artificial; but then, all well-conducted lives imply self-restraint and the consciousness of the prejudices of other people. A Very Human Queen NE of the best read and best in- formed women I ever met is the Dowager Queen of Denmark, Louise, daughter of Charles XV of Sweden. On formal occasions she is the most splendid of womenasto her attire. She is more than sixty, tall and stately, and at special assemblages wears her magnificent jewels—which are among the finest in Europe—with an air that makes you feel that nothing can suit her better. On such gala occa- sions there is little to say, except con- ventional phrases; and, of course, you never began a conversation, and you kept in mind that at any moment Her Majesty might give the signal for that low curtsy (pour congé) of fare- By Mrs. Maurice Francis Egan WIFE OF THE EX-MINISTER FROM THE UNITED STATES TO DENMARK wife of an American diplomatist should be able to speak any language other than her own?” If this question were asked about the wife of a Russian, or a German, or a Dutch or a Swedish diplomatist, I should not be so ready to answer it, because none of their languages is so universal as English. As it is, an American woman speaking with a good accent —and I regret to say that some American women do not trouble themselves about the extraction of pro- vincialism from their conversation—is rather sure of being comfortable in society. The woman who speaks a foreign language badly, but fluently, had best confine herself to monosyl- lables. She can smile and listen; that is quite enough at formal dinners. Queens and princesses have particularly the art of speaking and saying nothing, like Juliet, with a smile. Queen Alexandra has thisart in perfection, and her sister, the Empress Dowager of Russia, has it toa lesser degree, although she had that other art of reducing to dust, with a flash of her eyes, any anti- Russian in the circle whose prejudices she happened to remember. Silencing a Loud Voice at Court HAD great pleasure once in reducing the rather impertinent wife of a foreign secretary to silence at court. This young lady was an American who had cultivated a loud voice at afternoon teas in Washington. Now, if there is anything in a formal assembly where one’s colleagues are present that distracts one, it is a frowning countenance, a loud voice, or an intention on the part of anybody to move out of his or her place in the picture. An as- sembly of any kind where people are in full dress, and which is intended to be symbolic and formal, must be artistically composed; and I should as soon expect a well-disciplined captain in the army to walk out of his place and shake hands with a visiting general as I should expect to see the wife of an am- bassador or a minister or a secretary speak in a loud voice, push forward, or show inattention to the little ceremonies. “T am sure the Queen isenameled !” this secretary's wife remarked. She was very near Queen Alexandra, who admirably conceals her deafness, when she thus spoke in loud tones. The Queen smiled most charm- ingly, to which I at once called attention sotto voce. Facial enamel does not lend itself to smiles. It may be argued that it is difficult for any American woman to enter a life which is plainly so artificial. If self-restraint and the constant con- sciousness that one must please one’s neighbors, with- out losing dignity or self-respect, is artificial, then ”? BLUMENTHAL well which one was expected to make. But when she gave a private audience the conversation was very different. She talked of books, of the condition of women in the United States, of the work of the Red Cross, and of all things that tended to bring out the beauty and righteousness of life. She spoke of her children just as any other wise mother would talk, and of “‘ my king,” her husband, almost with adoration. After the death of King Frederick VIII she wore a simple black gown when she was receiving, although I was expected to go in an afternoon dress of light colors. The queen always disliked black. She was utterly changed; she had grown thin, and she could not speak of the circum- stances of the king’s death without tears in her eyes. A Lovable and Loving Réyal Family § pen royal family had been at Hamburg on their way from the Riviera where King Frederick went every year for his health. One of the princesses thought it would be a pleasant thing to spend all Some Very Kind Visitors Did Not Hesitate to Say That in the United States They Were in the Habit of Calling at Any Time night at the hotel. A young girl, accustomed to the routine of an enormous rococo palace, might easily prefer an extra day or two of freedom. The king was devoted to his two daughters, Princesses Thyra and Dagmar. He liked to walk with them, to talk with ’ CONTINUED ON PAGE 76 pe —

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RR eit Sanat Rania nates TESST ID RE sees nee = % ans A, 2 ARD oF THEW? . eee a ee HOME JOURNAL T was quite natural that women who have enjoyed the Cadillac in the past, should feel that their cars could never be improved upon. To those in particular, we gladly sub- mit this fine car—the Type 59 Cadillac. It has even greater grace and dignity. Its proportions are even more generous. It is more beautiful—not only in things that meet the eye, but in everything that soothes and satisfies the body and the mind. It is the harmony of the whole that has been accentuated —a harmony which enhances, especially in woman’s eyes, everything that distinguishes the super- lative from the commonplace. We are certain that no car as restful as this Cadillac has ever been produced, either in Europe or America. The well-known Cadillac ability to travel thousands of miles without caus- ing the owner a moment’s worry, or care, or readjustment, is more in evidence than ever. These qualities have been steadily and progressively developed by a group of skilled designers, engineers and crafts- men; and they have been seventeen years in the making. Weare proud of this Cadillac because we know we have given every American cause to be proud of it as an undoubted standard for the whole world to follow. The Cadillac is Made in a Complete Line of Open and Enclosed Body Styles CADILLAC MOTOR CAR COMPANY: DETROIT MICHIGAN: f F ne

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April, 1920 HOME JOURNAL PRB PL OTE Ce, Daye NO SIE LE ROR FS g Politics Safe for Demo cracy HAVEN'T a lot of time to spare, and I don’t want to go into politics as a career,” says the new woman voter. ‘‘ But I do want to do everything I ought to do in order to vote as a good citizen. Now what does that involve?” To this query the old-time politician returns: “Easy! You must register, enroll and vote; that’s all’; which is to say, in effect, ‘leave politics to the politicians.” Are women going to take politics as they are? “T hope so,” says the practical politician. ‘ Believe me, it will be a bad thing for women voters if they go in for uplifting politics. You can’t, for one thing, uplift things you don’t know. And, anyway, politics and uplift are different, see? Women can’t go into politics with any of the ‘holier-than-thou’ stuff and expect to be popular. And in politics popular is what you’ve got to be if you want to count. You can’t come in as amateurs in the middle of the game and expect to change the rules of the game all around. You’ve got to earn your rights.” They Wanted Information—and Got It r ONE city a little group of average woman voters, newly enfranchised, decided that what their city needed most from their vote was a change in the character of the public servants of the city and of the persons highest up in the political party organizations. They thought that as new women voters they might reasonably ask something on behalf of the women of the city. Soa little delegation of them went to see one of the party leaders to ask that ‘‘one or two women of good caliber,”’ not any specific women, be put on the party ticket that year. Mr. Leader became towering mad. ‘You women have got a nerve!” quoth he. ‘Excuse my French, but can’t you see that nothing’s coming to you? You haven't earned it. ‘Women of good caliber’? Why, you haven’t one of you done a bit of the dirty work in the wards. Know why Gibson is park commissioner now? Because he did one of the grubbiest campaign jobs there is and did it without a whimper. Better get your ‘women of good caliber’ down to deviling in the wards, Tell’em that’s the way to get in line. Then come back.” Is that the way? True, in politics somebody has to work, canvass election districts, do the homely, puttering, clerical and other jobs. Suppose Mrs. Average Voter accepts the rebuke and decides to get to work. She is eager to fulfill her political duties, but not intent on personal gain. She understands the need of work, and she starts in, under direction and witha meek and lowly spirit, to do some of the humble election district work. She often finds out pretty soon that “being a good soldier” is going to involve some positions she not only does not stand for, but does not believe that any man or woman on earth needs to stand for. She finds out quite clearly what is meant by the “dirty work in the wards.”’ Is she a prig if she repudiates it, gives a side whack at the whole age-long system that has made it possible—and necessary? She has found out that, to do it acceptably, she has to be more than meek and lowly; she has to be ab- solutely unquestioning, and that is different. Millions of just average women voters are in politics this day—as participants, not as critics. They have no particular political ambitions of their own to serve. They are not out to make trouble. But they do regard the ballot as a sacred individual possession, ‘not transferable." They are ready to work. But they are not ready to accept the necessity of the dirty work in the wards. The Conventional Political Campaign VERY student of public affairs knows that the most elaborate and the most expensive of the stereotyped campaigns are just as likely as not to be the most ineffective, if votes are the test. One man with conviction is worth about one hundred campaign By Esther Everett Lape job holders so far as giving life to a campaign and getting votes are concerned. But the men who are most interested and who genuinely care rarely have time for very direct service in the campaign. So the whole job is sublet to people very indirectly or com- mercially interested, if interested at all. Everybody knows them, the crew that man the campaign offices, who do heaven knows what in the inter-campaign periods and appear automatically when “‘boom”’ time comes around again, leaving ‘‘at a sacrifice’ businesses and vocations unknown. Think also upon the campaign district “‘ headquar- ters.” It is supposed to be a bright, joyous, active, vibrating place where the minds of men meet. Think of it as it really is—visited by a few drifters every evening, but almost never by that imaginary eager, in- quiring throng of average voters—a dreary place in some barren store or loft, with ghastly posters, piles of dull and extravagant “‘literature” and a general wild attempt to give the impression of a rushing busi- ness in leaflets, picture post cards, and campaign buttons. Most local campaigns are largely the products of uninspired underlings, with no particular conviction as to why their man or rather their patron should be elected. If the office is important and it is not an “off” year, he may be backed by an active committee of interested citizens, and the campaign may be waged on something like its real merits. But most often the whole business is sublet to agents only financially in- terested. There may be a “campaign manager,”’ too often somebody not otherwise usefully employed, who knows certain stock things to do and does them. He hires a headquarters, gets his candidate’s picture in a manly pose, and has some good posters and small cards made. He collects ‘‘indorsements” from every conceivable high indorser, sends out mimeographed letters containing these indorsements and anything else that comes handy about his candidate’s record, and arranges to have him given a few minutes on the program of every political meeting with the manage- ment of which he can possibly get in touch. That is, the campaign manager does all these things if he is rather energetic, above the average. If he is just average or below, he does one or two of these things, and then sits around headquarters and smokes and waits for trade to boom. A Little Conviction in a Campaign AST year I saw one old-fashioned campaign bap- tized with fire by the conviction and the guileless- ness of one new woman voter. Her husband was a county judge in the criminal court, standing for re- election, and the wife, adored and adoring, believed firmly that the very physical safety of that county depended on his reélection. Now that the women were voting, she felt a call to spread the gospel. To the amazement of his campaign manager she announced that she would also wage a campaign for him among the women. Her idea of a campaign was telling the truth as she saw it until every man, woman and child in the county knew what she believed and why. ea Se EN EUSF Seok oP awol & x. work te = ETI SOS Se helt wee “ana oF - She had a desk put in for herself at her husband’s campaign headquarters and betook herself there daily, after sending out invitations through many quarters to all the women of the county to be sure to come in to see her when they came downtown marketing or shop- ping. She wanted to talk over the safety of the county withthem. They came. They felt her guileless conviction, and before they knew it they were sharing it. That is the psychology of your really successful campaign, and no slush funds or miles of billboards or tons of stimulated oratory have ever beaten it in results. She Wants to be Reasonable O THE outward eye everything else about the judge’s campaign was strictly regular, all the same dull old dodges. But somehow all the empty and dead old stuff was quickened anew with a little bit of real belief and genuine conviction, and everybody con- cerned felt it. Incidentally, the judge was reélected. The new woman voter wants to be reasonable. Her father and brother and husband have all besought her to remember that the righteous, square-toed line-up won’t get her anywhere in politics. ‘Get the human angle on this,” they tell her. ‘ You aren’t dealing in perfection. Everything in life and especially in politics is relative. You really aren’t fit for participa- tion in public life till you’ve learned the great principle of toleration.” And just as she has grasped the great principle of toleration, just as she has adopted the point of view that nothing and nobody is entirely black or entirely white, and has learned to affect a liberal grayness covering a multitude of smirches, comes the campaign. And suddenly things and folks become either very black or very white. A certain out-to-kill quality governs everything. The great principle of toleration is conveniently lost in the shades of party tactics. Manufacturing Campaign Issues F COURSE for a ripping campaign you need a few good issues—very rare articlesin campaigns. They usually have to be “‘developed”’ after the candidates are chosen and the party campaigns well launched. And sometimes they have to be changed very sud- denly, on account of unforeseen punctures or various other traffic difficulties. If it is an off year and if the candidates are all rather dull and unspectacular, the issues have to be sharp- ened up, or, just as lilly, fabricated altogether. A very good example of the manufactured issue was the Gary system of education, injected into a New York City mayoralty campaign a few years ago. The Gary system, as we all know, is an arrangement for getting more service from our public-school buildings and equipment by an extension of the school day and in- creased rotation of classes, and also for emphasizing - training of hand as well as of brain for all public-school children. The mayor, who was standing for reélection, had backed a plan to try out the system by “Garyizing”’ some of the schools. Then came the heat of the cam- paign and the casting about for issues. The ‘‘atmos- phere” of the campaign was to make the mayor appear to be the rich man’s mayor, while his opponent was shown as self-made and devoted to the interests of the poor citizens. Both men were self-made enough from any real point of view. But one had worked with his hands, and the other had not. Would the people choose this motorman who had worked with his hands and knew the people’s sorrows, or for this highbrow “expert ” ? And this Gary system he was trying to put over ona free people—what was it? Nothing more or less than an attempt to train the children of the poor for trades in the public schools, while the children of the rich went to private schools and were trained for the CONTINUED ON PAGE 116 ete hee D7 2PO ae BS STEF TS OA BY > ff. ge . oth

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ry es a eee HN om peter SE Te Toa lien ee HOME JOURNAL April, 1920 eno RTS es = a The A.B.C. of Thrift (Cami What ts thrift? Thrift is the buying of the greatest values for the least money. It is something far more than the avoidance of extravagance. Kresge thrift principles consist of cutting to a minimum the three costs determining the price of merchandise—the production—the cost of handling—and the cost of selling to you. The Kresge Com- pany buys in im- mense quantities. Quantity produc- tion means a lower price perunit. You share this advantage. That is thrift. extra amount usually added to take care of wastage. Again, thrift governs your purchases. The Kresge meth- od of selling also reduces the price of merchandise. There is no wait- The Kresge system ing for sales slips of handling mer- and no ‘‘charge’’ accounts. The Kresge chandise does away Stores are built on these thrift principles. with waste. There is no lost energy, no lost time and no unnecessary labor. You do not pay the They buy—operate—and sell on a thrift basis. The profit on each article is ex- tremely small. Success is possible only thru millions of sales. In these stores, in the principal cities of the country, you will find the same assortment of good merchandise, such as you use and need every day. A few departments are Candy, Toilet Articles, Ribbons, Hosiery, Dry Goods, Notions, Hardware and Kitch- enware: The values which are offered are only possible because the Kresge system has made them so. The Kresge Stores offer you a splendid opportunity for the practice of thrift. S.S. K RE SG Stores 5*- 10F - 15f 25%- 50%- $100 Red Front Green Front | April, A= YN i

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April, 1920 Ni M oer atin" HOME JOURNAL Oo — 4 Why I Should Like My Boy to Marry an erican Gil- and Why I Shouldn’t HEN I came over to the States, one of my early impres- sions was: ‘ Well! I believe I should rather like an American girl asa daughter- in-law some day.”’ There isn’t any violent hurry, you'll under- stand, about the daughter-in- law proposition. Even fifteen or twenty years hence will be time enough for the actual set- tling up. But it looms. . . . Now my elder son and I, not long ago, were discussing the recurrent question of what he would do when he was a grown-up man, and where he would live. A little wistfully he announced: ‘I don’t want to live anywhere else. I think I'd like always to go on living here with you.” Impossible that the heart of any mother alive should not echo this aspiration! Don’t we all of us sigh at times: ‘Ah, if we could keep our babies little enough to climb up into our laps! Or at least small enough to wear Red Indian outfits to play in and man-o’-war suits ‘for best’! Why must they ever put on tweedsand bowler hats—and leave us?” But one can’t say that sort of thing to them. No. As the Spartan-British parent that I (some- times) try to be, I told him briskly: ‘‘Oh, non- sense; no boy can do that. No big boy wants to be tied all his life to his mother’s apron strings. When you’re grown up you'll have to get a nice home of your very own. And then you'll have to find some nice Young Lady and live there with her.” I shan’t forget his answer. He said to me: “But I don’t want to find a young lady when I’m grown up. A young lady wouldn’t be as kind to me as you are.”’ A friend to whom I (after the irritating habit of parents) repeated his words, said: ‘‘ How pro- foundly true! No ‘young lady’ he meets in this world is ever going to be as ‘kind’ to any man as his own mother.” Another friend (an American mother) said to me lately: “Well, I don’t feel I’ll ever want my boy to marry any girl on earth. Of course he’s bound to one day. Maybe she’s somewhere in her cradle now. But if she is, | hope she’s got the colic.” That wasan extreme way of voicing that passionate mother jealousy which is caused by mother anxiety for our children’s happiness. We all know that the day must come when the settling of that happiness depends no longer upon the mother of the man. His happiness lies, precariously, between the girlish hands of that ‘“‘ young lady” whom he has met at last—that “young lady” with whom he must share that home of his own—the stranger girl whose phantom image has haunted the heart of his mother all the time her lad has been growing up. Haunted it, to an obbligato of questions: ‘‘ What will she be like?” ‘‘ What would be best for him?” Some Reasons Why I Should Like It ye AMERICAN daughter-in-law—yes, I have thought over that possibility, and welcomed it for some things. What things? Well, first of all there’s that important (toa woman !) question of personal appearance. Always I have pro- claimed my admiration for the American girl’s looks, for her “‘get-up” and “turn-out.” Extraordinarily decorative, wherever she went she would be a credit to any fiancé’s taste. At once people would recognize that ‘‘the boy had picked a beauty, at all events.” This may sound a trivial, superficial detail to any man who reads it. But any woman will realize the relief it must be to a mother-in-law who has to present to the world a daughter-in-law who will never, never raise the comment: ‘What could that unfortunate young So-and-So have seen in that girl?” In the American girl he is admitted to have found (in nine cases out of ten) a pretty face, glossy, well-kept hair, a neat figure always becomingly dressed and charming feet and hands, Any mother of sons would enjoy ‘showing off”’ a daughter-in-law like that. The girl’s beauty can’t fail to reflect credit upon her boy, even if beauty were the only asset. Which it certainly isn’t. The American girl’s alertness and “‘aliveness”’ of manner are bound to win friends not only for herself, but for her husband. So is the American girl’s sense of humor, in which I never cease to take delight; so dry, so whimsical, so bubblingly unexpected !. (Query: Can it be at the same time bubbling, yet dry? Answer: Yes; like an obsolete, formerly popular champagne.) $e ————— SSS wy By Berta Ruck STP —— = PHOTO. BY SWAINE Berta Ruck and Her Two Boys Another characteristic of the American girl, which one would welcome in a daughter-in-law, is her love of ‘a pretty home.’’ The American homes which I have been privileged as a guest to enter have struck me as being so beautifully kept without being fussily “‘domesticated.’’ The dinner table is always prettily “thought out,’’ everything about meals and service being at once dainty and practical. Take that idea of an ice box for every house! Now, why can’t we install that in my country? Then, the airy rooms with polished floors, the wire screens to front doors and to windows, the character- istic American rocking-chairs on the porch—these things pleased me so much, and would please, I imag- ine, any home-seeking young man. So would the coffee that is to be found in these places. The best coffee I have tasted in this world has been in America, and the best coffee I tasted in America was made by the daughters of the house. How I should love to think that a son of mine was to be fortunate enough to have nectar of that brand poured out for him every morning of his life! Which would happen to him, I suppose, if he were to marry an American girl. She Will Keep Him on the Job HEN, if he married an American girl, I should feel sure that he was being kept up to the mark and to doing the best that was in him from the point of view of his job. For I’ve noticed one thing about the American girl when she marries: She has got to have a certain amount of money, a certain position. She is, as she rightly thinks, worth a certain comfortable if not luxurious setting. She has to have that home with those airy rooms and that pretty dinner table. Also she must have a car, and furs, and those heavenly evening wraps in which she flits into the theater. The young American wife, I gather, demands these things. Not by asking in so many words (oh, no, that’s not how any woman ever did get anything worth having), but by creating a tradition that the American husband simply has to fulfil by producing these things for the woman that he loves. He works harder for them, I imagine, than our men usually find necessary. You see, our British girls have never made it seem so necessary. The British fiancée seems to give out as her motto: Then come back, Thady darlin’, and never mind the gold; It’s only you I’m wantin’ in the home you loved of old! Do you think I want a palace? Why, the meanest hut would do, If you’d only love me, Thady, and take me there with you! Which is all very well and romantic. Personally I think one ought to marry only the man to whom one could truth- fully say “It’s only you I’m wantin’.”” But, mind you, I don’t think one ought to say it! I think it tends to make the man lazy about earning when the girl insists, ‘‘ Never mind the gold.”’ Hethinks, “ Righto, little woman, I won’t worry about it,” and he doesn’t. The two young things pre- pare to struggle along valiantly on “his’’salary, which is “all right as long as she doesn’t expect any luxuries.”” ‘‘She”’ then contentedly wears a hat for three summers, cuts out and makes his pajamas herself, goes to the theater in her mackin- tosh over her Georgette blouse, and is known as ‘‘such a good poor man’s wife!’’ Such a good wife to keep a man poor, I callit. For it’s the girl who “simply can’t put up with poverty and who has to have things nice” about her—she’s the girl who spurs her husband on in the arena, keeps him on the lookout for every chance of a rise in life, and sees to it that he is not going to remain a poor man for one instant longer than he need. Very often, I think, a man’s business and professional achievements are measured by the amount ex- pected of him by his wife. Finding a Happy Medium OW heaven forbid that I should ever find myself afflicted by a selfish, heartless harpy of a daughter-in-law whose exactions kept her tired husband’s nose to the grindstone for money with which to pay her bills! «On the other hand, defend me from the daughter-in-law who, expecting little of her husband, would not be disappointed in him if he relapsed into a lovable enough, happy-go- lucky, mentally lazy failure, who was content to watch others (perhaps with less ability, but with more resolution) “get up and get’’ the prizes that might have been his. I fancy that a happy medium between these two types may be found in the American girl when she marries. I cannot imagine an American girl out house hunting and giving her lover to understand that “the meanest hut would do.” ‘‘The meanest hut”’ ought not to do, and it won’t for my ideal of a daughter-in-law. Now you'll put me down as a deplorably mercenary woman without any dreams? Don’t. I’m not mer- cenary. J know how happy two young people can be in—a hut. But‘l’m now not thinking of just the two. Here’s where I’m looking ahead, past that phantom of daughters-in-law-to-be. I’m thinking of something else that one hopes they’d signify, something for which one wants every oppor- tunity, every chance of a healthy, happy, spacious upbringing in gracious surroundings. Every woman, I believe, would think as I think: ‘“‘ The ‘meanest hut’ won't do for our grandchildren! Not if it can be helped! And if the vim and energy and zest for life’s good things that are characteristic of an American girl can help to help—well, let’s hope for that American daughter-in-law !”’ Up to now I've written almost as though she were a being pretty, intelligent and efficient, but without affection; I have not meant it to be taken thus. On the contrary! I havea notion that an American girl, used to the homage and to the type of her own countrymen, might be won to a rather special appre- ciation of a mate from over the seas, just as a Britisher would find her type and “‘differences’’ especially at- tractive. Or am I nursing a flattering dream? American Girls Flatter Englishmen UT my national vanity often has been flattered by the things I’ve heard American girls say about our men. ‘“ They look so wonderful in their uniforms,” I’ve been told not once or twice only. “‘ There’s surely nothing like an Englishman for that slim, elegant figure. And the Englishman’s veice—isn’t it won- derful?” ‘Is it?” “Why, the very way they say ‘here.’ Oh, I could never resist it,”” American girls have told me quite sincerely, for I am quick to recognize the mére wish to please me. British women, accustomed to the slimness, the voice, and the method of saying “‘here’’ possessed by our men, have always taken these things (such as ae CONTINUED ON PAGE 168 a, a ZB ~~ aoe /: Na

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i i ee een _ a ee 42 HOME JOURNAL oO) N(e April, 1920 HITS that Make the World Brighter sust Like pa (Oh)| the Rose Bx” UNSHINE—merry golden sun- shine to brighten cheery homes — are these wonderful new “Feist’’ song hits! Direct from ‘‘ Song Headquarters”’ they come to you. Fresh from the theatres, restaurants and dance floors where America’s song hits are made, —— Wherever, “Mystery” by Harold Cool & Howard Googins it. © Leo. Feist, Inc. LEO FEIST, Inc. FE1st BUILDING. NEW YORK Canada:193 Yonge St. Toronto, Ont. You don’t have to be a Sherlock Holmes to solve this ‘‘ Mystery.”’ All you need is a piano, phonograph or player-piano. Play this won- derful song once —and you’ll =. § know why it captured every Mons; from 3 —— . song-centre in America. A MSleur Bezuca ing . hi Ro e Qs } = ee i dance- " melody that just gets onto Sweet Blushin your mind and into your feetandmakesyouwant to fox-trot all night. “Mystery” isbreak- ing all selling rec- ords —another ““Vamp.”’ Get ** Persian Moon” “Lullaby Blues” ‘* Vamp” ** Star of the East’’ ** O ’’(oh) **A-Mi-Ti-Ya"”’ they come to you to play, sing, dance and enjoy on your own home piano, phonograph or player-piano. Take this page to your piano and pick out the melodies of these three new hits now—you can get them com- plete at your music dealer’s. ON SALE TODAY wherever good music is sold whenever music is played, ask to hear these “Feist’’ Hits “Sweet Blushing Roses” For those many times when you’re alone and want to sit down to play something for your- self on your own little piano, here’s a song you’! love with all your heart. A charming, soothing reverie-melody interpolated with rolling chords is ‘‘Sweet Blushing Roses,” a melody as rare as the lyric is beautiful. On sale at your dealer’s. “ Peggy” Come on, you sopranos, tenors, altos and bassos—there’s a part for each of you to sing in the wonderful melody of ‘‘Peggy’”’! Come on, you dancers and jazzers, there’s a step- lively rhythm in this ‘“‘Peggy”’ melody that will make you dance and dance and dance! It’s - SOME song—and SOME dance—and SOME hit! Get it today. Other Beautiful ‘‘Feist’’ Song Hits! “Red Rose’? ‘*Thank God You're Here, Mother Mine” ** When You Look in the Heart of a Rose” ** Alice Blue Gown”’ from “*Irene”’ ** Irene”’ “Trail to Sante Fe"’ ““Golden Gate” “*By the Campfire” “Sweet Love Dreams” “Erin” ““The Radiance in Your Eyes” “*My Baby’s Arms”’ “Sand Dunes” “The Land of Lullaby” *“*Golden Gate” “In Siam” ‘Poppy Blossoms” ‘Down Limerick Way” (Fiske O’Hara’s Hit) “Just Like the Rose”’ “Sing Me Love's Lullaby”’ “Linger Longer Letty”’ “There’s a Time” ““One Loving Caress” “*Love, Here is My Heart” ““Give Me All of You” On sale wherever music is sold,or we will supply you direct at got. a copy, postpaid. Band or Orchestra, 25¢. each. Ask your dealer for a copy of ‘‘Feist’s Melody Ballads’”’ —a little booklet that will give you words and music of the choruses of many of the beautiful song hits listed above. If not at your dealer’s,send us his name with a two- cent stamp and we will supply you direct. (ii c I! 34 i H j MYSTERY j } | F CALLED a iy tlle a ! t i | i| \ TUNE m™ THAT Ais “Mystery”

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920 ce id ee vl nd ng ne ‘p- at t’s [E April, 1920 HOME JOURNAL Magnification 100 Diameters Fiber From the Cultivated Cocoon. Fiber From the Cultivated Cocoon. Tussah or Wild Silk. Magnificas | Domestic Artificial Silk. Magni- Imported Artificial Silk. Magni- Magnification 500 Diameters tion 500 Diameters fication 500 Diameters fication 500 Diameters HERE was a time when only people of wealth could wear silk. The difficulty of obtain- ing it and the high prices which it consequently commanded caused it, even in Bible times, to become one mark of position and wealth and sought after for that reason even before its other commendable qualities were much understood. Add to this distinction the delightful feel of silk, its pleas- ing rustle, its attractive luster, and you have made it a very popular material, even if it were not so satisfactory in drapery. In the days of our grandmothers only a small quantity of silk reached our shores, but in 1909, 23,333,750 pounds of raw silk in skeins was imported. Its value was nearly $79,000,000 and in the same year 14,016 pounds of cocoons, worth $3931, and 1,840,191 pounds of waste silk, costing something more than a million dollars, were also admitted into the United States. In the ten years that have passed our popula- tion has grown from nearly ninety-two millions to an estimated one hundred and ten millions. Meanwhile our silk importations have more than doubled, their quantities and values for the year ending June, 1919, being: Raw silk, — By Harrison E. Howe Vice Chairman of the Division of Industrial Research of the National Research Council Chiffon Which Has Not Been Chiffon With 35 Per Cent Weighted. Magnification 500 Mineral Weighting. Magni- Diameters fication 500 Diameters Note the Difference in Character and the Increase in Opacity REPRODUCED BY COURTESY OF THE UNITED STATES TESTING AND CONDITIONING COMPANY dull in appearance due to the many protruding fibers; then it is made lustrous by singeing the ends. Whether the silk be drawn or spun it has become an extensive custom to give it more body and weight, in- crease the rustle, improve dyeing ualities and yet cheapen the fiber, by practicing metallic or vegetable weighting. The demand for passable imitations of expen- sive silks has frequently caused weighting to be carried to the very limit of fiber endurance and has been the cause of much dissatisfaction. It is generally held that the replacement of the natural gum or sericin with weighting materials is legitimate and need not be detrimental. When sixteen ounces of raw silk are boiled out in hot soapy water, approximately four ounces is lost in the weight of the silk in the form of natural gums. It is the replacement of this four ounces that is thought justified, and!silk so weighted is usually termed “ pure dyed.”” This weighting may be gums, dyeing materials, salt, water glass (silicate of soda), iron, sugar, or magnesium chloride, but in the majority of instances it is very apt to be tin. If tin is used, its compound known as tin tetrachloride istheoneemployed. Thismaterial — is usually made from the tin recovered from in skeins, 43,321,030 pounds, priced at $202,643,259; cocoons, 734,710 pounds, worth $307,155; and silk waste to the amount of 15,129,003 pounds, valued at $14,567,070. Thus our individual consumption of these raw products alone has increased during the last ten years from about a quarter of a pound to something more than half a pound, and during the same period the average price of raw silk, according to these figures from the Bureau of Foreign and Domestic Commerce, has risen from approximately $3.35 to $5.90 a pound. In addition much manufactured material is imported. America the Greatest Silk-Using Nation E ARE not only using more silk, but we have been willing to pay much more for it, which means really that more people are wearing silk and are prepared to pay for the privilege. America has become the greatest silk-using nation. Most of our silk is obtained from the caterpillar of a species of moth called Bombyx mori. This caterpillar, familiarly known as the silkworm, spins a cocoon con- taining a single long silken filament which, after treat- ment with hot water, can be reeled. Tussah, or tussar, is the designation applied to a wild Indian species, but of late this term has been used to include all wild silks. Wild silk is rougher and coarser than that from the cultivated silkworm, but it has excellent strength. If we insisted on having pure silk, most of us would find ourselves unable to pay the price, and even at a high price there might not be enough to go around. When the ability to wear silk was consid- ered an indication of affluence, it was un- doubtedly pure silk which was concerned. With everyone desir- ing to wear or use silk, the variation in the abilityto pay has made it necessary for the manufacturers to find a way to make silk that will satisfy the demand at the price, and the task has been greatly lightened by the fact that in many instances price has been the first consideration and cheap silks have been wanted. By cheapsilks we mean those sold at a lower price than REPRODUCED BY COURTESY OF THE UNITED STATES TESTING AND CONDITIONING COMPANY would be possible if all pure silk fiber were to be used to produce a fabric of equal weight per square yard. Tin and Iron Used for Weighting Silk | i SHOULD be made clear that any grade of silk for which you are willing to pay can usually be supplied, but the numerous solutions for the problem of supply- ing silks at a low price make it very much to your in- terest to gain some familiarity with them and to realize that very often all is not silk that rustles. The finest silk is that which is reeled or drawn from those cocoons in which the chrysalis has been stifled by heat before the time when its emergence would puncture the cocoon, destroying much of the fiber. The next classification is the spun silk secured from various wastes, such as the tangled fiber from imperfect cocoons, the portion of the cocoon which remains after the reeling, those cocoons which have been pierced by the moths, a considerable number of which result from selecting stock to produce eggs, and a great variety of wild silks which cannot be reeled readily. These materials are soaked in hot water and are then carded and spun. The natural gum is not usually removed until the thread has been woven, for otherwise, due to'short fibers, the yarns might part in many places. The thread from waste silk is at first On the Left is a Sample of Typical Brocaded Silk. On the Right is a Similar Piece of the Same Brocade After Heat- ing to Bright Redness for an Hour. The Residue Represents the Mineral Weighting and, as Will be Noted, the Pattern is Still Discernible. This Ash, While Brittle, Was So Strong as to Withstand Transportation by Mail old tin cans, and the statement has been made that more than five thousand tons of tin were used in 1917 to weight silks made in America. The raw silk from which the gum has been removed by boiling in soap and water, is dipped in the solution of tin tetrachloride, the excessive chloride is washed out, and the fiber then passed through a bath of sodium phos- phate. The fiber may now be given a second immer- sion and a third until the alternate dipping and washing process has been carried to the point where the fiber can absorb no more of the metal. Excessive Weighting is Harmful N PRACTICE it has not been uncommon to find samples of silk which weighed sixteen ounces in the raw state, twelve ounces when the gum was removed, and fifty-four ounces when it was delivered ready to be made into taffeta umbrella covers. Tin is suitable for all colors and appears to be the favorite weighting material for all the lighter, delicate shades. Unfor- tunately in excessive quantities it has a decidedly detrimental effect. The tin salts appear to crystallize and the sharp crystals cut the fiber. Excessive weight- ing also has a breaking tendency, and both light and perspiration have a particularly harmful effect upon silks heavily weighted with mineral materials. Iron in the form of nitrate may also be used, espe- cially in darker colors, while tannin mordants and logwood cause a very considerable increase in the weight of the goods. Results which have been obtained in an experimental way now seem to indicate that weighting with organic materials is not so ob- jectionable as is the casewith minerals, and that, when it has been subjected to proper control, the process may result in an in- crease in strength in the silk as well as a swelling of the fiber which improves the appearance of the fab- ric and increases its affinity for dyes. Excessive weighting is more likely to be found in the case of dark-colored silks and stiff materials of the taffeta variety. CONTINUED ON PAGE 97

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re oR eer 44 HOME JOURNAL Come in, ‘Kiddies -‘SJhe Apex has Cleaned Your Play-Room “*Tt’s raining outside and you must stay indoors today. Your playroom is nice and clean and you can romp all you want to. With my Apex Cleaner it is easy to tidy up after you are through.” The Apex is invaluable in every room in the house, whether for a thorough cleaning in sleeping and living rooms or for a few hurried sweeps of the dining room after meals. The Apex nozzle is easily adjustable ; it is equally efh- cient on every kind of floor covering. The inclined noz- zle of the Apex reaches under and gets around things. The divided nozzle cleans evenly every surface to which it is applied. Only the Apex can do these things. A progressive dealer in your city has learned through ex- perience the splendid service that the Apex gives. You can believe him when he recom- mends the Apex for your use. Ask him for a free demonstra- tion of the Apex. If you do not know him write us for his name. THE APEX ELECTRICAL DISTRIBUTING COMPANY 1065 East 152nd Street Cleveland, U. S. A. Made in Canada by The Apex Electrical Mfg. Co., Limited, 102-104 Atlantic Ave., Toronto ELECTRIC SUCTION CLEANER @ -46 4672 =r Ter se 7 @ k=) 6) \e>- ie SO Sa an en a ee oe of Ya : . gor a CS y ja ( — 4 Ve — [fie] Apex &cclusive | Gata! Twin-Features fs i ii -_ Fa xt wa iy oSNel| m || dV Yo A l DIVIDED Wii) WAY ea -_NOZZLE Sn NAN BF P Cleans Vniformly Across % Sees WY / hy the 13-inch Opening ee \ za “y ay | NW - =~ AN ANKE? a NS x we ' 7 AX ; Uy Rend SSS 7 ws | \ SO \ WA W755 ’ ‘iF \ yy BS EAA PEG We i! Hee \X \ OK A LAN 4 DY SESNY a ‘AN x Nis Was ee th SME os MG SA l Lael ar iv me AP yi i u i)! / aS i ft NRT “y YNID fr wel | pte ficiee i Ce TMG ri i 4 ‘|| f | Hy HoT TTTTVATH Fa my) mii en | ae | ree a ) | Op lll a EZ — Wl April, 1920 ZA \\s A TOLLE AA, wh iinesammgy \ KINA >i MAXI A AMIN TO ae a 7 v Ap a>

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April, 1920 HOME JOURNAL oe (Ker ~ The Lookout on the Mountain By Rupert Blue Former Surgeon General of the United States Public Health Service IRST, what is a community or rural health nurse? She is a graduate nurse, to begin with; that is, she must have had a course in the care of individuals in a school or hospital and there have been trained in the prevention and treatment of disease and to do every- thing possible for sick persons in her care. Supplementing that training, she must have experience under good staff direction or at least a postgraduate course in public health nursing, so that she will have acquired the habit of thinking in terms of a community or a rural region as well as in terms of the individual case. Her job is to be the health guardian of the community in which she works, to utilize every opportunity to teach family and personal hygiene, and to take no chance in letting any individual case of illness endanger the com- munity asa whole. Toa certain extent, there- fore, she ts health officer, board of health, teacher of health and health demonstration agent, all in one. r Fie OF gear are She may be an infant-welfare it nurse, a school nurse, a tuberculosis 4 nurse or one with some other kind of specialized training. But when working as a community nurse in a rural community she must combine all of these functions and know a great deal about them all. As an infant-welfare nurse, when perform- ing her function as a community rural health nurse, she makes her systematic, regularly timed visits to (q babies. i. On the same trip she examines and watches over children under school age, whose interests are often lost sight of in the face of the more pressing needs of little babies. Like- wise she watches over the school children and codperates with the school-teachers—arranging for doctors to examine them for all ie mental and physical detects and fol- lowing up all cases discovered. Me She has, of course, many other duties, and it is her special oppor- tunity that many patients, particu- larly women and the children—who after a time will feel at home with her—will discuss with her signs and symptoms that are beginning to | cause worry or inconvenience long before they will go toa doctor. This is especially so in the case of cancer, which is a disease that people do not like to talk about. Every year it | causes eighty thousand deaths among adults in the United States, about two-thirds of whom are women be- tween thirty-five and fifty years. Many of these deaths were prevent- able, had the cases been taken in time. What Her Chief Duties Are HE, the rural nurse, reports all OFFICE OF THE SURGEON GENERAL 1% REPLYING ‘THE SURGEON GENERAL U. 6, PUBLIC HEALTH SERVICE for the right type of worker. BUREAU OF WASHINGTON mM November I3, 1919. My dear ir. Davis: In compliance with your request I take pleasure in telling your readers something about the work of the public health nuree, this most valuable adjunct to the modern public health moverent. Here is @ large and important field of activity newly opened to women, @nd oe in which there are many excellent opportunities sufficient trained public health nurses, it would be fortunate if my brief presentation served to recrnit candidates for this work. Respectfully, Cig —fro a-t-aof 3 Qarn_ : Surgeon General. emma cases of sickness or disease toa physician or, as it frequently hap- pens, persuades the patient to go to him. More than that, as the Red Cross Nursing Service points out, she does these other things: She watches over the expectant mother and advises her in those matters which contribute to her comfort and safety and which promise “‘sound wind and limb’’ to the little newcomer. She cares for the sick in her community, bringing trained skill and gentle, deft hands to supplement the doctor’s knowledge and the family’s devotion. She is the guardian of all babies. Ignorance of proper treatment is the biggest factor in the high baby death rate, and by teaching the mothers the latest scientific principles of child care, many little lives are spared. ‘‘Saving a baby costs the public so little; losing a baby costs the mother so much.” She is the defender of all school children in her com- munity. By periodical inspection, under the direction of the health authorities, she protects the well from the sick and checks the spread of contagious diseases. She also detects any faults in physical development. Had such inspection taken place twenty years ago, one-third of our young men would not now have been rejected for military service on account of physical defects, many of which could have been prevented in childhood. Who among you can answer either to your child or to your God if you let your child grow up with a handicap that might have been removed ? Former Surgeon General Rupert Blue and His Letter to Accompanying His Article on This Branch of the Public Service om CF hem ied Bro mt. She organizes the boys and girls of her neighborhood into health and hygiene leagues, and bestows upon them two priceless gifts, a knowledge of the laws of health and good hygienic habits. They learn to value and protect that birthright of every child—a sound, clean and strong body. She searches out the young man and young woman with incipient tuberculosis, brings them the glad tid- ings that the disease can be arrested and helps them to find the way to the salvation of their health before it is too late. She is the Lookout on the Mountain, giving the first warning of the approach of the enemy, disease. There is not space to tell all that the ‘ Lookout on the Mountain” can do for a rural community, although the proof that she can accomplish miracles is already in. Perhaps her work can be suggested, however, in the case of a family. In this family, let us say, is a child in the first stages of tuberculosis. Her teacher says the child is ‘‘anemic.”” Her parents say: ‘‘ Mary’s appetite is poor.” The nurse comes along and insists that Mary have an examination by a competent physician, and sees to it that the brothers and sisters and parents are looked over in the bargain. In short, not only is she tactfully bringing about proper care for Mary, but she corrects TREASURY DEPARTMENT THE PUBLIC HEALTH SERVICE Because of the present lack of Ts S AAAAAS SES the Editor the home conditions of the whole family. She finds, thus, that the older brother has weak arches, and with timely attention to the trouble the lad is saved from growing up flat- footed. Then little Sarah confides that she ‘‘cannot see the blackboard ”’ and ‘‘feels dizzy after recess.’’ It is the nurse who takes her to see the eye specialist, when nine times out of ten all the others who know the child would let it pass with a careless: ‘Oh, I guess she’ll outgrow it.”’ That Mary and Sarah and little brother do not always “outgrow it”’ is shown by our large rural mortality and indisputably by the rejec- tion in the draft of one-third of the rural sons of the richest and most enlightened coun- try in the world, where every child, we say, has the right to “‘life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.” The physical defects through which these young men failed to qualify could, in large proportion, have been pre- vented in the school or pre-school period of their lives. A Vastly Important Work URTHER than that—and this is vastly important—it is the nurse who does the “follow-up”’ work. It is she who sees to it that there are no later complications, such, for in- stance, as may follow typhoid fever or pneumonia or scarlet fever long after the doctor has discharged the case. In short, the public health nurse, under the direction of the health authorities, teaches people to take care of themselves in a practi- cal and common-sense way. She does not merely tell a mother, for instance, that the baby’s milk must be kept cold; she shows her how to improvise an ice box at home. She actually shows her how to pre- pare the milk prescribed by the doctor. She advises on matters of diet for the older children and par- ents; the home demonstrator can help her there by showing them how to prepare the foods that she ad- vises. In all her contacts in school and home she preaches continually personal hygiene. All this means, if we look at the question in the large, that the work of the “Lookout on the Mountain” is essential, because it is educative. The cities, for instance, have had to give heed to health needs and are far ahead of the country in health pro- visions. Were they not supplied with , quarantine officials, with doctors and dentists in plenty, and with hos- pitals, public and school clinics, dis- pensaries and social and charitable agencies without number, they know they could not exist at all. These measures in themselves are : educative. The proof lies in the o} manner in which the people in cities i rise to their own defense and de- mand correction of any poor water or milk supply or protection against any epidemic. In the city, moreover, the police power and the health power are im- manent and powerful, and can drag a man out of his home if necessary, which in itself is educative! Where the Trouble Comes } : pel the provisions that have educated the cities do not educate the rural population. In other words, health on the farm is largely at the option of the indi- vidual farmer. That is where the trouble comes! In the city a public health program is drawn up and put through by a small group, and perforce accepted by a vastly larger group; but in order to put through a rural health program almost each individual farmer must be convinced. Farmers’ wives are quick to accept a program that promises so much, because women are concerned more with the creation and preservation of human life. The proof is that wherever the United States Public Health Service has instituted community nurses in any rural population, or the county or state health authorities or the local chapters of the American Red Cross have done so, the women of the farms have been quick to welcome them and to codperate with them. Farmers themselves, however, are sometimes hard to teach. Most of them do not handle much money and are therefore conservative when it comes to ee eS ai CONTINUED ON PAGE 98 SAR cae se a =i) a.

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46 HOME JOURNAL Ageil, 1920 ee oe ee satis — | Electric Washer & Wringer That it should bear the seal of a great organization dedi- cated to the saving of labor in the American Home, only serves to intensify the unmistakable preference for the established superior- ity of the Crystal Machine CRYSTAL DIVISION MALLORY INDUSTRIES, Inc., Detroit Factories: DETROIT, MICH., PORT CHESTER, N. Y., BALTIMORE, MD. =~ TV A es TT ~~ Tre es

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i ae nglish Wives and American Doughboys: By Elizabeth Banks HERE is Briggs?”’ I asked an English- woman friend the other day. “Why, Briggs has gone to your native land,’”’ she answered. ““When—and whatever for?’’ I asked. “Yesterday,” was the reply, ‘‘to be a good wife to one of the nicest Doughboys you ever saw.” Briggs was my friend’s parlor maid, a tall, slim, nice-mannered girl of twenty-four or thereabouts, who had been a ‘‘Waac”’ for two years in France, where she came into contact with numbers of Amer- ican and Canadian soldiers. So now she had married an American boy and they had taken the boat for New York, and the question is: Are they going to live happily ever after? Frankly, I, for one, don’t believe they will. I haven’t a word to say against Briggs. Indeed I loved her on the very day she first opened my friend’s door to me. She was wearing her “ Waac”’ uniform, being allowed to wear it for a certain time till she was able to get some ‘“‘civies” made up. As she helped me off with my coat, she addressed me as “‘ madam,” and at the door of the drawing-room she announced me just as nice parlor maids used to do in those dear, old-time days before the World War, when they knew their business and took a pride in being what they called “ proper servants.” Briggs would have made a model wife for a pre- war Englishman of what would here be termed her “‘own class,” and a kind mother to her little English children. But she ‘‘fell in love” with an American Doughboy instead of an English Tommy—and small wonder! The Doughboy was gloriously free and independent and bright and full of ambitions for the future, when he should have ‘canned the Kaiser,” as he told Briggs he had come over here to do. The English Tommy fought just as bravely as the Amer- ican Doughboy. Let us never forget that. But the Doughboy hada “‘way”’ with him. Also, the Dough- boy was observed to be well supplied with money, which he spent freely, while Tommy had very little. They Come From All Walks in Life T IS not to the discredit of Briggs that she noted all this. All over England hundreds of girls have been noting all these things and many more. The Doughboys infatuated them, and they were easily won brides. And now practically every boat that plies between here and the United States and Canada carries these English brides of American Doughboys. They are not all of the domestic workers’ class. Some have been shopgirls, factory girls, sewing girls; others just nice, stay-at-home girls. Some went in for uniforms when they happened to be helping at the “Y" huts. A number of them waited on the Dough- boys when they were invited to the homes of English hostesses, who wished to show hospitality to Amer- ican mothers’ sons who had come across to fight in company with English mothers’ sons. Such girls were wearing smart black dresses with spotless aprons and caps, which were immensely becoming to them. The Doughboys noted their quietness and —— —— a mie Tm AL Dre bitin prettiness and their charming manners and thought of them as “hired girls’’ who worked at domestic things as Western farmers’ daughters worked. They believed these girls would be ‘‘all the go” over yonder in a nice farm or village home. “And so they were married,’ as the story books would say, and now for the other side of these romances. The British are admitted to be the greatest colo- nizers of the earth. They ‘‘police’’ the world better, probably, than any other race could do it. At the same time they are an unadaptable people when they first go to other lands than their own. They hark back to the old ways and the old customs. Show them new ways of doing things and their im- mediate reply is almost invariably “‘We’ve never done it,” or “We've always done thus and so.” Especially take the lower and middle class Britons in small numbers, let them go to other lands, and | verily believe there are no people on the earth who find it so hard to adapt themselves, to fall in with new ways, follow new rules, learn new things. No Talent for Tasty Cookery HE particular thing that the average English- woman seems never to have learned, the thing for which she shows no talent, is really appetizing, tasty cookery. If any reader of this immediately feels called upon to say: ‘‘Why, there is So-and-So, an Englishwoman who cooks just as my mother used to cook,” I will merely reply that So-and-So is the exception that proves the rule. Take the whole of England, go from Land’s End to John o’ Groat’s, and you will not find one woman in a thousand who knows how to make a tasty pot of soup; who can roast beef so it is not dried up and quite like chips; who can fry or mash potatoes; who can make a stew

MMT 7 } that any American man can eat; roast a chicken or any other fowl in the American way; who can make thick gravy or properly cook a vegetable. I give the following English recipe for cooking, let us Say, peas: Throw a quart of shelled peas into a gallon of boiling water; also several sprigs of mint, also a good big lump of washing soda. Gallop rapidly for fifteen minutes; strain off the water into the sink and put the peas on the table ready for eating. I say this is the English way of cooking peas, beans and other vegetables, except that in the case of cauliflower, carrots, and so forth, a tasteless white sauce of flour and water is often poured over them. This is not war cookery, but cookery as it now is done and has always been done in England ever since the discovery of washing soda. A few ‘‘smart”’ or “ professed ’’ cooks will tell you that they never use washing soda, but prefer bicarbonate of soda! Soda, they insist, must always be used to keep the peas and other vegetables a bright green. We Americgns know that nicely cooked vegetables should not be bright green at all, but brownish; that they should be simmered for hours, not galloped for fifteen minutes; that they should be seasoned with pepper, salt, butter or other fats; that the liquor in which they are simmered should not be thrown away, but served with them or saved for soup. Washing Soda in Water for Soup ND, speaking of vegetable soup, reminds me that some yearsago, long before the war, | wroteforone of the English papers a few special articles on Amer- ican cookery. I recommended the making of vege- table soup from the water in which certain vegetables were cooked. My articles created much discussion and sensation, and I was the recipient of many let- ters informing me that all water in which potatoes were boiled was poisonous! One lady begged me to come to her home and tell her if I really considered the water in which the green peas were boiled was fit for soup making. I went and found her trying to make soup from that awful water which was flavored with washing soda, and I told her that my recipes were not meant to be used with that ingredient. All over England to-day there are restaurants known as National Kitchens, where food, cheap and clean, is served to thousands; but it is tasteless and, to my mind, in no way the slightest improve- ment on the food served in other cheap restaurants. No English cook, even the very best of “‘ professed”’ ones, seems to know how to baste meat or fowls. The things that take a little trouble are always neglected, so that the celebrated “roast beef of old England”’ certainly cannot compare with an Amer- ican roast. The average homemade cake is not nearly so good as those bought; an English salad dressing is a thing to make one weep. Many English cooks know how to fry or grill bacon nicely, and they also do very well with a salted CONTINUED ON PAGE 130

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HOME JOURNAL ‘The attraction which the Liberty exerts upon women of good taste, is primarily a reflection of the good taste which it exemplifies in beauty of line and design. But that first spontaneous feeling of attraction is followed by a favorable impression much more potent. The discerning feminine motorist can take her place at the wheel of the Liberty, or ride in the rear seat, and sense at once that she is completely at her ease. Her feminine intuition of the quality which its beauty suggests, is instantly verified by the difference in the way in which the Liberty rides and drives. Liberty Motor Car Company, Detroit ( April, 1920 LIBERTY SIX. rr} | a rz i- Poe ec RAS ESE SES ERESLER EES SEER ESSEE SEES SEB SasesBeeaseees s STRESSES RSESSEEREKERERERASHS Seeseeeceesraates

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A April, 1920 HOME JOURNAL PRELUDE painting, compose by you and bearing the message of yourself. beauty and its source. Sy & S “ yy ts & e Be a HARACTER in dress implies truth to our surroundings. As a nation we have a most individualistic char- acter. We expand and develop at a rate beyond the imagination of the Old World. In such a creative atmosphere it is surely a discord to affect ‘foreignisms,”’ either in dress, habits or home furnishings. The illustrious captain of industry who decorates his American home in the effemi- nate style of Louis Sixteenth is more lax in his home than in his business. The super- daintiness of that period ill accords with the resonant vigor of American life. Equally true in dress, we cannot affect the Louis Sixteenth type of panniers which were ideally suited to the slow and solemn dance music of that epoch, when matrons could leisurely translate every note into a move- ment of grace. To-day we keep time to a more throbbing, a more virile music, in which the full panniers of yesterday would cause havoc to the dance. So periods changeand styles must change in natural accord with them. There should be no room for whim or caprice in the in- terpretation of the time in which we live. In the course of fashion’s foibles, it may become the style to.wear lace dresses; but what woefully poor taste it would be to wear lace dresses in business or the office, even if all the cohorts of fashion trumpeted the decree! There is a time and place for everything, says the philosopher of the Bible; and no prophet of fashion can gain- say this truth. o-pofeS The Secret of Harmony T IS not my purpose to moralize; I am imbued with the love of the beautiful in dress and I perceive that women are beauti- ful in proportion as they dress in character. There is truth in dress not visible to the cynically minded; it lies inwoven with the purposes of nature, and if we do violence to it unwittingly at times, it is perhaps because we do not devote sufficient thought to the dress that interprets our character and ideals. Supposing, then, you regard this topic as seriously as if you were to sit for your portrait and you wished to do justice to the occasion. You would observe that the artist mixes his colors with great study and deliberation; that his sense of design seeks the correct lines; and that he is careful to effect a proper distribution between light and — 40TO, € shade. You will not do less for your cos- tume; you will want to have your dress of B a fabric and a color in harmony and fitness Y and you will want your costume to be as much a harmony as is the picture. Now the secret of harmony lies in proper balance of contrasts. Violent contrasts destroy the very basis of art and maim the truth. A noble character in ignoble dress foo befe arouses pity; a base character in beautiful dress arouses moral indignation. As Ham- well-nigh blood red, that intoned a hymn to money-pudgy corals that ENS Ns Ns tg, SG “if ————_, a). : R Iw L Sos 4 4G Swe =: OMEONE has defined beauty as a state of mind, but I like to think of it as an expression of character. Thought is the — back of the stage, but conduct acts. Character — soul, and dress reflects character. A dress is your novel, your poem, your I recall the legend of the Mirrors. Once a poet walking in the fields fancied he saw a line of mirrors stretching from the earth to the sky. Through each one passed an image of the beautiful ; in one, a flower bloomed gorgeously; in a second, a fantasy of clouds; in a third, a vast landscape grew pagoda- shaped; in a fourth, a living star; and so on in a succession of pictures, each one more beautiful than the preceding. Yet the poet was dissatisfied; in none of them did he find the beauty that he sought. As he meditated on this vision, he saw walking toward him a young mother draped in the loveliness of maternal love; her simple gown irradiated by the smile with "hich she gazed on her boy. The child, sanctified by the sunset, played with the flowers, and, behold! to the poet was revealed the secret of But a hairbreadth separates the sub- lime from the ridiculous. A wreath of violets combined with chrysanthemums is a travesty of nature, though each flower be a gem in itself. So in dress; a navy blue skirt is always in good taste, and ‘so is a brown chiffon waist: yet wearing them in conjunction is to flout fitness. Let us re- verse the order. Wear a navy blue waist witha brown skirt, and a pleasing harmony results. Again: a green hat over a white dress is quite charming, while a white hat on a green dress suggests the ludicrous. There is no easy road to acquiring a sense of harmony between details, and the designer who writes recipes is missing his true vocation. Only by observation of the acknowledged beautiful in dress and a study of nature can good taste become a habit. Color Interprets Character ERMIT me, asa guide in forming color schemes, to draw a familiar example from natural law. I refer tothe phenomenon of light, from which the “color keyboard” is derived. You have noticed that light, except in its highest octave of Roentgen rays, cannot penetrate solid objects, and that the soil is always darker than the foliage above it. From the ground up, light divides into ever rarer gradations, until “no man can look the sun in the face.”” Would it not perfect the costume if we graded its color scheme on this principle—the lower part subdued and modulating into lighter effects as you approach the face? Color is an important element in dress, because it enables us to read character. We have a wholésome distrust of garish hues and often we hear the comment: ‘She looks like an actress.’’ Although the ma- jority of our actresses dress smartly and in good taste, yet we unconsciously associate any form of sensationalism with stage influ- ences. It is erroneous to assume that we must overdress to attract attention; and at what cost to natural beauty do some women overdress? Elaborateness that reaches con- fusion, distortion of the lines of the figure, bizarre decorations, colors like “‘ sweet bells jangled, out of tune’’—these are the penal- ties. If you must have ornate materials in gorgeous colorings, see to it that the silhou- ette remains most simple. And mold the flowered chiffons or fancy fabrics into chemise dresses, simply girdled with the ground color of the material. And to avoid that the wearer of a loud-patterned dress be recognizable by her pattern rather than by her name, respectfully suggest small or subdivided patterns in the material, The Hat Must Harmonize UR portrait is incomplete without ar- ranging the accessories of the costume in a logical and artistic unity. Often a dress let advised the players: “Suit the action to the word, the word to the _—_ chosen most tactfully and of beautiful lines and color is spoiled by a hat action.” We cannot escape the punishment for being immoderate, and _ out of tune. There is a law governing the style of hat as there are principles Cleopatra, although she out-Venused Venus, could not avert a tragic end. _ controlling correct dress. It is well to remember that a hat severe in lines If I seem to speak in truisms, let me say the times call for homely truths, should be worn only with a tailored suit. If you prefer high collars to your and there are some people who still can find beauty in ancient truths. coat, that reach to the ears, you will do well to choose a hat that slopes Extreme contrasts in clothes are as baneful as violent contrasts in upward. A drooping hat would be a calamity, for it would give the im- behavior. Some time ago I observed a woman, prominent because of her _ pression of joining the collar and thus obscuring the face. ; husband's wealth, at a morning musicale in a semievening gown, topped In women one side of the face is more expressive and interesting than by a pompous headdress. While a world-famous soprano sang ‘‘Hark! the other. May I therefore suggest that every woman study her profiles t Hark! the Lark,” this woman obtrusively fingered a huge coral necklace, to choose a hat that “plays up” the flattering side of the face? ? announced a happy marriage with self-advertising instincts. CONTINUED ON PAGE 62 pope} eob-f + [=] i [ewcaccncuaccccscne ccesseaneasasscstecanuscas) Qf coreeerreerreerrerrereerre reer eee of COREE rr a) [=] {oe CEYTTUIITIITITIIT ITT III II rit riititiiiiiiit) (2) Gessssccccccescucscucsaces ‘pesaeuasecssnactes} [*} Sess ueeaccsscusccccvesccscccevssccccscnsaens} [=] [psccsccectereonsssecscucsscsesscsessessesscsen] alfajfc SUUREDesasUesasaseseeaseccsseresseessseasssen) (2) [ensscsse esas esses eens sees esssesessesessus} a] SQSSRSCRARTES Sees E Re eeseee Saeeseeenessunesauasel Bo SSSRRSSHSSASTSEHETHEOS SEHR SETHE ETHRE ESE EEEH ESSE J Gy Geccccerenscessssecccnsercnnssnncsssnesessees) Gy SOtSUSUDDSSUSESESEDSESBSESEEDESEDECDSSuascess] [co] [peucuecteDsneneessensnsecsseccccsecccsesssesnen a} fe} {e

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IRNAI sel, 193 | Apri HOME JOURNAL April, 1920 pr Designs by Harry Collins

one - <y “ ee ay +N ~’ ~ e, Wu ya etm rps . VEO EOS USEC ON Rs 4 on SP ee CAS Aa a A ~ Ef WY AFTERNOON GOWN OF BLACK TAFFETA (No. 2593). Accordion- plaited ruffle; Venice-lace collar and cuffs. Comes in sizes 16 years, and 36 and 40 inches. aa roe JEL Mae? 4 CW OOS Be fh Pet rd 7) iY?) EOF Agi A DAL) y A ri fy Yh mod Ly yy bt BER eZ. ope , AP « ¢ 14 fy So he. F on Ax atl "é Biyxt om, 7 ; eg OE eS” REDE Og NEAT. - : A het oS b Sh SE gh Sz! ae y AFTERNOON GOWN OF BLACK TAFFETA (No. A-966). The simplicity of the lines is but heightened by the fine plaited ruffles, with a chain of covered cord; lingerie collar and cuffs. Patterns cut to order any size up to 42 inches. Photographs by Campbell Studio EVENING GOWN OF ROSE-SHOT TAFFETA (No. A-939). A wondrous color scheme with em- broidery of dull gold and silver; the girdle of flame velvet and the same taffeta. NAVY AND CERISE TAFFETA AFTERNOON GOWN (No. 2616). A novel effect enhances this dress in the form of hand hemstitching bands which provide trimming through the skirt and waist. ; Patterns cut to order any size up to 42 inches. Comes in sizes 16, 18 years, and 36 to 42 inches. A-939

Home Journal patterns may be purchased from any store selling Home Patterns; or by mail, postage prepaid, if you address the Pattern Service, The Ladies’ Home Journal, Independence Square, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, Designs lettered and numbered with three figures (for example, A - 774) will be cut to measure at $1 each. Other Designs: Dresses, 30 cents ; Skirts, 25 cents ; Coats, 30 cents.

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April, 1920 HOME JOURNAL. | 51 Designs by Harry Collins AFTERNOON GOWN OF NAVY GABARDINE AND BLACK SATIN (No. 2594); blue and gold thread embroid- ered. z Comes in sizes 16, 18 years, and 36 to 42 inches. reer iat ees — AFTERNOON GOWN OF BLUE-STRIPED SILK VOILE (No. A-967). Box-plaited skirt ; lace and net sleeves and collar. Patterns cut to order any size up to 42 inches. AFTERNOON GOWN OF BLUE TRICO AND BLACK KITTEN’S EAR (No. 2590). Distinguished by striking simplicity and lack of ornamentation. Fine colored bead trimming and tassel. Comes in sizes 16, 18 years, and 36 to 42 inches. Photographs by Campbell Studio BLACK KITTEN’S EAR AFTERNOON AFTERNOON GOWN OF BLACK AND BRICK GOWN (No. 2592) of a subdued elegance, with CHIFFON (No. 2599). The brick floss embroidery carries effective green braid and gold stitching embroidered. out the color scheme and the beauty of the material. Comes in sizes 16, 18 years, and 36 to 42 inches. Comes in sizés 16, 18 years, and 36 to 42 inches. Home Journal patterns may be purchased from any store selling Home Patterns; or by mail, postage prepaid, if you address the Pattern Service, The Ladies’ Home Journal, Indepenaence Square, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Designs lettered and numbered with three figures (for example, A-774) will be cut to measure at $1 each. Other Designs : Dresses, 30 cents ; Skirts, 25 cents ; Coats, 30 cents.

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Designs

WHITE GEORGETTE WAIST (No. 2620), with fine tucked and lace- trimmed ruffle. Comes in sizes 36 to 42 inches. BLUE GABARDINE AFTERNOON DRESS (No. 2619), with sunburst-plaited skirt and rose-organdie embroidered vest, collar and cuffs. Again, line and color constitute the true elegance of this dress. Comes in sizes 16, 18 years, and 36 to 42 inches.

2617-2556

TOPCOAT of tan duvetine (Nos. 2617-2556). Mole-trimmed ; pockets inserted in fur and piped in duvetine. Coat (No. 2617) comes in sizes 16 years, and 36 to 40 and 44 inches. Skirt (No. 2556) comes in sizes 16 years, and 26 to 32 inches.

ce

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itPe’. uy Cemeted & ? {OS Y

a Ne AS | ele lb BR RONCRRCNELS et EA an fax DES; > 4 <4 su Son PUNT Cee cn Ga-23%, yer, . 2595-2596 Photographs by Campbell Studio

April, 19 ZU

CREAM.-NET WAIST (No. 2623), | embroidered blue dots. Comes in sizes 36 to 42 inches. SLEEVELESS COAT OF BLACK VEL- VET (Nos. 2595-2596). White-check velours skirt, worn with cream-net waist. Coat (No. 2595) comes in sizes 16, 18 years, and 36 to 42 inches. Skirt (No. 2596) comes in sizes 16 years, and 26 to 32 inches. wr F he, 43

: + AP & 4) fate FEO) ai; SMART SUIT of navy Poiret twill (No. 2618). Roman plain girdle; the white waist of Georgette worn with it has fine tucks and Valenciennes lace trimming. This suit illustrates harmony of line and detail. Comes in sizes 16, 18 years, and 36 to 42 inches.

Home Journal patterns may be purchased from any store selling Home Patterns; or by mail, postage prepaid, if you address the Pattern Service, The Ladies’ Home Journal, Inaependence Square, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, Designs lettered and numbered with three figures (for example, A-774) will be cut to measure at $1 each. Other Designs: Dresses, 30 cents; Skirts, 25 cents; Coats, 30 cents; Waists, 25 cents.

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April, 1920 HOME JOURNAL 53 UR She Lure of » RR SANNAA ol UNDERWEAR HAT luxurious feeling of being well-groomed, the perfect foundation Si@ren 532 White Crepe de Chine 533 Flesh Crepe de Chine , for every gown—simply means clad in POLLY--ANNA Underwear. Bewitchingly smart is the new POLLY- eANNA combination of vest and drawers with the individual feature of skirt back, that gives such charmingly graceful lines to both slim and stout figures. RE AAA OYTO ~, A There’s a garment to fit every purse—in the knit underwear department of most good shops. KLIS Er a See, ISO 5 ND there’s such an alluring array of materials to choose from—True Irish Linen, gorgeous silks or the daintiest variety of cottons—all finished with the same care of hemstitched edges, real pearl buttons and self-silk or ribbon shoulder straps. Chas. E. Shedaker & Sons Philadelphia 526 White Silk and Linen 527 Flesh Silk and Linen 558 White Checked Batiste 559 Flesh Checked Betiste Pat.in U.S. Foreign patents pending, ITA >= DK = Fo, A Oe i PAS ( —_— RA r 562 White True Irish Linen 563 Flesh True Irish Linen

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HOME JOURNAL Spa Ready cooked ready to serve satisfying food, appetizing, whole- A some, thoroughly cooked. And convenient to serve — just heat it. All the family like it because it sasées so good. The dry spaghetti is made in the Heinz establishment, and then cooked with selected cheese and Heinz famous to- mato sauce in accordance with the recipe of an Italian chef, in the spotless Heinz kitchens. An excellent food for children. Some of the Vinegars Baked Beans Cream Soups Tomato Ketchup All Heinz goods sold in Canada are packed in Canada April, 1920 The Easter Bride is Gowned in Lace and Satin HEN a bride is young and lovely she may drape a lierre lace bertha around her shoulders and trail her satin train from a rippled tunic over a lace foundation, as in the pretty design below. Waist No. 2585 comes in sizes 36 to 42, and skirt No. 2586 in 26 to 32. FROCK for a bridesmaid may be as old- fashioned as one desires, like Nos. 2346-2569, with flounced skirt and garland of flowers, and yet prove the smartest new fashion. VER the pink satin dress (No. 2580) worn by the matron of honor is draped a tunic of cobwebby écru lace, narrow bands of which complete the long surplice waist. Sizes, 34 to 42. 2586 N JONQUIL or- gandie (No. 2579) crisply ruffled, is the youthful maid of honor dressed, with ahat to match. White pongee makes the little page’s suit (No. 2158), and Val in- sertions, pin tucks and frills fashion the diminutive flower maid’s frock (No. 2309). . 2346-2569 ¢ =X wre

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April, 1920 3 4 GRANGER ee HOME JOURNAL Do not casually shop for your corset. The woman who takes the time to understand her- self and her corset problem spends less because she buys the right corset in the first place. The woman who lacks this corset understand- ing buys twice and is not satisfied either time. © relief of your body and mind? buying mistakes. The Right Way Is So Simple natural figure. It is this: do not try to atiain an un- To begin with, the un- natural figure is no longer smart—and there For the admired woman who wears a Gos- sard has an unconscious grace that can only result from priceless comfort. Every nat- urally beautiful line of her figure is accented and her corset is so much a part of her that the observer is as unconscious of it as the wearer herself. And this is true of even the stoutest figure. Do not think because you are of full pro- portions you must resort to cumbersome cor- set contrivances that restrain your freedom of movement and give you that appearance of being over-corseted that is so fatal to your attractiveness. Why this—when Gossard artistry you How Do You Buy Your Corsets? HERE are so many ways—so many wrong ways. And how many times have you, yourself, regretted a mis- taken corset purchase with ‘“‘Why, oh why, did I buy that!” and thrown the corset away to the detriment of your pocketbook but the Any true clothes economy lies in the elimination of tired to be yourself, when the insignificant price of a Gossard Corset may prove the price of your health. You Can Always Tell the Woman Who Wears a Gossard She walks with an ease and lithe graceful- ness that is the charm of youth, and ends the most exacting day fresh and unfatigued. There is so much more to Gossard corsetry than just figure improvement. Our Responsibility Does Not End When You Have Bought a Gossard never was the woman who squeezed into the wrong corset with a minute’s comfort to herself or a minute’s frank admiration from her friends. have admired in the figure of the slender You must be satisfied. woman may be yours? If your Gossard does not give you style to make you happy; if it does not give you comfort beyond price; if it does not give you a wearing service that alone justifies its cost—there is not a Gossard merchant but will wish you to return it. Any corsetiére who sells you a Gossard Corset will take a personal interest in helping you buy the corset best suited to your needs. : = : 3 : : : - : : : : The H. W. Gossard Co. : i : : : : : | : e Do You Take Care to Protect Yourself Your Attractiveness Depends Upon the From Needless Exhaustion? Appearance of Natural Beauty cee nk If, perchance, you are a busy mother or The obviously corseted woman is as un- convincing as the artificial flower and her gowns, however elaborate, never have the charm of the simplest frock worn over a @ Gossard Corset. ‘> an active business woman, you can eliminate one of the greatest causes of fatigue by wearing the right corset. Your physician will tell you that this is a sufficiently demon- , strated fact. Do not end day after day too Toronto Chicago New York Buenos Aires EAPLGR HELGE tHEL pes BLY (ek XG ns Ne Ideal Figure Idcal Figure Tall Heavy Short Slender Ideal Figure Tall Slender GEESE GELLER EGE eu ere There is not a type of figure, however unusual anddifficult to fit, but can be successfully corseted ; in | | ay ‘ R Ideal Figure Ideal Average f - ome" : Short Heavy GE FIGRE GE FEL GLLCCGR SEE GT EC GER EEG EEG Gossard distributors appreciate the superiority of Bl these original front lacing corsets and without exception offer a specialized service that makes Fy shopping a pleasure and assures you the corset Ideal Figure Ideal Figure Ideal Figure Ideal Figure Large Below Lo Above woman. Curved Back Short Waisted Waist Jaist you should wear. Gossards are priced within the reach of every >t) Fe4_

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RHAPS ODE Sane Other PENIKEES Silks rere bere (or SPORTUSSAH SYLVA-SPRE DUVETYN Crepe de Chines Crepe Meteors Satins Charmeuse Poplins Georgettes Faille de Soie Silk and Wool and Printed. Novelties OT only under the soft glow of evening lights do the new Penikees Silks reveal their subtle beauties of sheen and shade. Their exquisite crin- kled or corded surfaces respond just as joyously to sun-sparkle and the ripple of clean winds. Ergo, they are the .choice of great designers for pic- turesque little sport suits and frocks as well as for graceful evening gowns and wraps. Rhapsodi:—Chimerai—Cordellé whichever you choose you'll have the utmost in silk fabrics. Carl Schoen Silk Corporation 260 FOURTH AVENUE NEW YORK AY it SI IDNIAI April, 1920 JOURNAL April, 1 Clothes for Her Honeymoon VERY perfect trous- seau must include one navy-blue cloth gown, and this one (No. 2455), with inverted umbrella folds revealing a red faille lin- ing, has conventional em- broidery designs in red silk floss and is edged with patent-leather strips. Sizes, 16 and 18 years, and 36 to 42 inches. Taffeta in two-inch fine plaitings gives the fashion- able volante effect to the skirt of the pretty black afternoon frock (No. 2478) without increasing the skirt width. Sizes, 16 and 18 years, and 36 to 42 inches. Pink taffeta roses adorn the shiny cellophane brim of her becoming hat. A gown that may be worn at afternoon affairs during the summer and yet be in good taste for in- formal evenings will prove the most useful frock a young matron possesses. Such a gown is No. 2512, below, of indestructible voile, with liérre lace frills and velvet girdle. Sizes, 14 to 20 years. 2th Yow LN } * s SE ee ~f : YS RVR EE pe ; OTe \ OR the morning walk she has chosen a musketeer-blue tricotine coat, linked at the waist, with a skirt plaided in tan and blue to be topped off with a glistening sailor hat. The coat (No. 2527) comes in sizes 16 and 18 years, and 36 to 40 inches, while the skirt (No. 2544) comes in sizes 26 to 36 inches. When a coat (No. 2601) of soft basket- weave woolen in wigwam brown is embroidered in raffia, with big collar and cuffs of wool duvetine, it may be worn any time in the day or evening. Sizes, 16 years, and 36 and 40 inches. 2601 Transfer 14303, S THE spring bride’s outfit would be incomplete without its quota of summer gowns, what could be more appropriate than this one of orchid jacquard kumsi- kumsa combined with white satin for the panel blouse front, the monk’s collar, cuffs and deep yoke? No. 2413 comes in sizes 36 and 40 inches, while No. 1880 comes in sizes 16 and 18 years, and 26 to 32 inches. The long blouse and plaited skirt are such decided features of the mode that at least one gown of this type is indispen- sable. It may be of cat-tail brown klimax satin like No. 2532, with vivid touches of red and tangerine embroidery, or of pongee silk, wool jersey or Japanese crépe. Sizes, 16 and 18 years, and 36 and 40 inches. Apr, 1 dinne Bu never trage Tw the o that “Of « I mu: her e But » has a to dc say, us bt the a now. They and | have “y the o “2 tries ough night we S she ¢ like 1 It this « the | not 1 child toril It ago, time long meat mak motl soap ther teacl hom econ Nar.

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April, 1920 HOME JOURNAL 57 She Had No lime for Her Children She tHoucut she was a fine mother— but couldn’t those hours in the hitchen have heen better spent ? HEN you are five years old some things matter a lot and others not at all. It doesn’t matter much, for instance, what particular thing you have for dinner, just so there is enough of it. But it does matter—tremendously—if Mother never has time to stop and listen to your little tragedies. Two women were talking about this very thing the other day in connection with a friend. “TI feel that Mary is making a big mistake,” said one. “Of course she thinks she is a perfect mother, and I must admit that she does devote all her time and her energy to the house and Johnnie and Betty. But the trouble is that she is so busy she never has a minute for the things the children really want to do. I don’t know how often I’ve heard them say, ‘Mother, tell us a story,’ or “Mother, help us build a house with the blocks,’ and every time the answer is ‘No, run along, dear, Mother’s busy now. But the worst thing was the other day. They wanted Betty to be in a little play at school, and Mary didn’t let her because she said she didn’t have time to bother with a costume.” “What does she do with all her time?” asked the other. “She fusses too much about the house. She tries so hard that she leans over backwards. You ought to see the elaborate dinner she gets up every night—it’s so unnecessary. Well, I don’t suppose we should talk about her—Mary’s a dear even if she doesn’t look after her children the way we'd like to have her.” It happens every day, and nearly always, as in this case, the mothers who make this mistake have the best intentions in the world. They simply do not realize that they can find time to be with the children more—and still run the house satisfac- torily. It may have been necessary, years ago, for a woman to devote all her time to housekeeping, but that is no longer the case. When housekeeping meant spinning and weaving and making feather beds—when being a mother and housewife meant being a soap-maker and barber and doctor— there wasn’t much time for her to be e 3% teacher and playmate, too! But nowadays women are learn- ing to put motherhood first. “> = They are refusing to do in the = Saeepgn wd pen: geo The family always like Vienna Sausage this way Peel several raw potatoes and slice thin. Fry brown in bacon drippings and arrange on platter with Libby’s Vienna Sausage, heated and split home things that can be done better and more economically outside. Take cooking, for instance. Have corned beef patties for supper tonight Put one package Libby’s Corned Beef, several boiled potatoes and a large onion through the meat- grinder. Moisten with one raw egg, season and make into small cakes. Fry brown and garnish with slices of hard boiled eggs and parsley Narrow it still more to the cooking of meat. sigh Gaede? Be BAe tg Thousands of women are solving this one special problem by using Libby’s Packaged Meats. They hand over to the Libby chefs the burden of the heavy part of meat cooking, leaving themselves time and energy for more important things. They have discovered that there are no finer meats obtainable than Libby’s Packaged Meats— Creamed beef on toast—easy to prepare and so good Cream Libby’s Dried Beef and arrange on platter on rounds of toast, garnished with sweet pickles Corned Beef, Dried Beef, Vienna Sausage, Veal Loaf and a long list of other delicacies. They are packaged in Chicago— meat centerof the world— where the choicest meats are available to the Libby kitchens. Only‘cuts from fresh Government inspected meats are used. They come to you in air-tight containers, which, when opened, reveal the meats as fresh as on the day they were packed. You will find that Libby’s meats have a flavor and tenderness that home cooking of ordinary meats cannot approach. Shown on this page are a few suggestions for new and delightful ways of serving them. Begin tomorrow to let Libby’s meats save time for you. ‘*Book of Five Minute Meats’’—Free WRITE for the Libby ‘‘ Book of Five Minute Meats,” a book of simple recipes devised by Libby’s expert chefs to lighten the burden of cooking and save time for the homemaker. Every dish is attractively illustrated in full colors and is accompanied by complete cooking instructions. Write for your copy today. It is Free. Your grocer has Libby’s Packaged Meats or will gladly get them for you. 1BBY’s Mustarp—Try Libby’s Mustard with Libby’s Meats. An unusually 4 good mustard— not too ‘‘tangy,”’ not too mild, delightful in flavor, it adds a touch of savoriness that puts an edge on the dullest appetite. Veal des tropiques—a most unusual dish Peel, cut in half and split bananas lengthwise— dip each piece in egg, roll in cracker crumbs and Sry. Slice Libby’s Veal Loaf, heat, place on toast and put slice of banana on top of all Libby, M¢Neill & Libby 104 Welfare Bldg., Chicago * Libby, M€Neill & Libby of Can., Lid., 45 E. Front St., Toronto, Ont., Can

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HOME You can buy the loveliest the decorators have to offer _ O you like this soft gray chintz scattered with sweet old-fashioned nosegays? Or this silk from China?— very ‘different,’ with its large vivid birds on queer boughs. And for your own boudoir, madame, these filmy lengths of mauve and rose chiffon—” Be sure that you choose just the fabric you like. No material is too exquisite, none too delicate to wash the gentle Lux way. The ravages of the laundry, the cleaners’ bills that loomed so monstrous, are but silly fears of the past. You can trust to Lux any material that pure water alone will not hurt. Cretonnes, silks, satins, the merest clouds of chiffon come from these wonderful suds unharmed. There’s no hard cake soap to rub in. And no rubbing to get the soap and dirt out. Just pure bubbling suds that whisk the dirt away and leave the colors clear and bright. Never let a fine fabric really get soiled Don’t think of leaving your fine curtains up for a whole season collecting dust and grease. This dirt that is allowed to stay in— month after month! — actually cuts the tiny fibres. The whole fabric weakens and you wonder why your curtains fall apart so soon. If you even suspect that striped taffeta slip cover or those yellow silk hangings of looking less bright, don’t wait a minute. Slip them into a big bowlful of the pure Lux suds. Let Lux take care of all your beautiful draperies and find out how long they can last. Your grocer, druggist, or department store has Lux. Lever Bros. Co., Cambridge, Mass. How to wash silks and colored fabrics ens Wont shrink meces | ics Use one tablespoon of Lux to a gallon of water. Whisk into a rich lather in very hot water, then add cold water till luke- warm. Colors should be washed quickly to prevent run- ning. Dip the fabric up and down in the foamy suds. Squeeze the suds through the soiled spots — do not rub. Rinse in three lukewarm waters. When possible, roll silks in a towel to dry. If colored fabrics are hung up to dry, they should be hung in the shade. Press with a warm iron. 4 7 ay pasa 1920, LL gy JOURNAL Nh od (NES / Me os d y) er Bros. Co. x ef fs g id ey)! 4 ry y

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April, 1920 HOME JOURNAL 59 DURABLE Fabrics Vie With Straw DURHAM HOSIER Y Made strongest where the wear is hardest Braids in the New Hats Photographs by 4 IS just the at she was Alfred Cheney Johnston fodiee tee oud that is why she is so happy. The brim rolls back from the face in a becoming way, and curious little embroidered fig- ures are scattered over its blue taf- feta top. RILLIANT ca- melia pink taf- feta in soft folds drapes the drooping brimmed hat above with a sheaf of blue and pink flowers. Just below is a stun- ning black hat with glisteningcellophane brim wreathed with scarab-green roses. a Experience says: “G tat, towervinma, wx | LAL 15 real value in Hostery” graceful brims, seem predestined for a successful season. The hemp hat above, faced with malines, reflects the NYONE can see the beauty in deep tones of the velvet pansies which : span the crown, overrun the brim and Durable-DURHAM Hosiery. stop only at the under side. But Experience looks deeper and sees the wonderful wearing quality that is based on fine yarns and care- ful workmanship. Every pair of Durable-DURHAM is strongly reinforced at points of LADY WARE A very fine mer- hardest wear. Legs are full length; cerized stocking, 4 ° ° fashioned with tops wide and elastic; sizes accurately Walle, Gree, Comte- marked; feet and toes smooth, seam- ‘ less and even. The Durham dyes will not fade. (i Styles for children and men as well as for women—style for dress, work or play, for every season of the year. Lady Ware and Lady Durham are two of the newer styles for women with the fashionable seam back. Ask your dealer for Durable-DURHAM Hosiery. Look for the Trade Mark ticket attached to each pair. DURHAM HOSIERY MILLS Durham, N. C. HERE are many kinds of flow- ers, but the newest ones are painted Rel one row preceding an- other—first, fuzzy gray felt, then taffeta silk— give to this hat Sales Offices: 88 Leonard Street, New York right on the (above) the easy hat and out- pliableness char- lined with acteristic of this shiny silver thread as on the adorable affair above. It is covered with beaver- season’s sport hats. The bril- liant blue lisére hat on the left, which rolls back so becomingly Export Selling Agents tone faille silk, from the face, has Amory, Browne & Co. and a cunning shiny cellophane , little bow tie braid fluted Now York Londen Parts Sydney, N. S. W. in back. around the edge.

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60 9O days of it in every year NE rainy day in every four—that is the average in most states. Don’t let the rainy weather mean for you dampness and chill and water ruined shoes—or the annoyance of wearing clumsy, awkward rubbers. Nowadays you can protect your feet and detract not at all from the smart lines of your shoes. Slip on a pair of U. S. rubbers and snap them into place. Notice how light, how elastic they are. The heel slips snugly around the heel of your shoe; the toe stretches smoothly and without wrinkling across the leather toe. There is no bulge at the shank, no ugly wrinkle across the instep. They are as trim and well fitting as your shoes. Smart looking feet are as important in wet weather as in dry—long ago the United States Rubber Company realized this. The experience of 78 years has gone into the designing of these rubbers that not only give you the protection you want, but also look well on your feet. There is no detail in the making or finishing of a U. S. rubber too slight to receive painstaking care and attention. That is why more people wear U. S. rubbers than any other kind. The wear of a rubber depends largely on fit. The heel of this U. S. rubber fits snugly the difficult French heel, the round- ing toe is without a single pucker. Footwear United States Rubber Company HOME JOURNAL April, 1920 Ask for U.S. Rubber Making Seven Different Waists From One Pattern 2269 F YOU have a new open- front coat, make two bound buttonholes across the front of your waist, and slip through the ends of a silk tie, as in the one above. By cutting the back collar narrower a notched effect like that above will result. This would be attractive in red- striped handkerchief linen with plain-colored collar, cuffs and bound button- holes. UCH are the possibilities of one pattern if you would like to use it to its fullest extent and have your summer blouses made in a variety of different ways. To gain fullness in front, run in clus- ters of tucks before you cut the material as this pattern (No. 2269) on the left is plain fitted. To begin with, it may be buttoned up snugly for a high collar, or cut in a long V with a rolled collar. All sizes, 32 to 50. O NOTCH collar and cuffs in this quaint fashion above cut the collar wider at the ends and round off the back. Then bind with bias-cut colored linen. Five-inch straight bands, hem- stitched and pintucked, made exquisitely dainty the waist cen- tered below; Valenciennes lace and a pretty embroidered design (transfer pattern No. 14262) worked their magic on the one below on the right. Y ADDING a straight chemi- sette and lengthening the collar, you can make a_ charming blouse like the one on the extreme left, with frills of Valen- ciennes. Sports de- mand just such a practical waist as the one (No. 2269) cen- tered here. 2269 LO. Pau le “TZ ASHION SELECTIONS FOR APRIL.” You will find in this new book the latest styles for your summer dresses of silk, linen, organdie or voile for yourself and children, as well as many smart accessories of dress. Price, 10 cents. Address the Service Bureau, THE LADIES’ HOME JouRNAL, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. April

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April, 1920 dD I HOME JOURNAL | htybone THE top illustration shows the ordinary corset boning after the corset has been worn but a short time. The absence of resilience is indicated by the angle at which the boning is now permanently bent. The lower illustration shows arib of Mightybone that has come through the same test with all its original springiness and flexibility still alive. That is why American Lady Corsets, boned throughout with Mightybone, ensure perma- nency of comfort and style. O you realize that practically the whole success of your spring wardrobe depends upon the bon- ing in your corset? Only as long as the corset moulds your figure into the fash- ionable silhouette will the suit or frock fitted over it hang smartly and correctly. The newly boned American Lady Corsets are solving this problem for a host of enthusiastic women this spring. Mighty- bone is the reason! Always alive, always alert, always springing back into its original lines of style in the corset — Mightybone not only ensures fashion but ensures endurance of fashion. Every American Lady Corset regard- less of price is boned throughout with Mightybone and is superior to even the most expensive corset boned with ordi- nary boning. You will be delighted with one of the newly boned American Lady models especially designed for your individual requirements. Or if you are one of the many women who already know the particular American Lady model best suited to your needs, you can buy it now with this added assurance: That because of Mightybone, it will bring you lasting satisfaction in service—comfort—style ! Back Lace $2.50 to $8.50 Front Lace $4.00 to $8.50 AMERICAN LADY CORSET CO. INC. Detroit . New York . Chicago . San Francisco This tag is attached to every American Lady Corset. Its use has been authorized by the Mightybone Corporation of New York. Find it— and you find lasting com- fort, lasting satisfaction, and afigure fashionable—always! © American Lady Corset Co., Inc., 1920

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a i NM pe -Undersuits Here we are/ RG Little Brother G Little Sister Sealpax ERE they are, those wonderful new Sealpax athletic undersuits that bring “Dad's Comfort to Dad's Kids”. Here, to buttons, etc., all combine to make it almost wear-proof. trouble. Get your children ‘‘Little Brother and Little Sister Sealpax’’—at your dealer ’ in the sanitary Sealpax container. Write for “The Sealpax Family” Booklet. THE SEALPAX COMPANY, - Baltimore, Md. Lady Sealpax keep your kiddies cool and comfortable. ; j -Here, to give them a garment whose sturdy ; a fabric, elastic seat, reinforced stitching, taped ; | Here, to save you time and aaa WOM Se Gita Se ee A better athletic under- wear for men sold in a cleaner way./ ; A dainty athletic under- wear for women “Just as Comfortable as Brother’s.” . , Copyright 1920, The Sealpax Co, April, 1920 Dress and Character (CONTINUED FROM PAGE 49) For a dress hat my preferences have al- ways inclined to the soft drooping effects on the edge of the brim, or a Fancy of some kind to break the hard line around the edge. This has the delightful effect of softening one’s features and is most becoming to every type. Hats without brim present the most difficult problem. When this type is worn, the hair should be very soft and the headdress fluffy. Let me repeat that in dress nothing counts except the entire effect, and study of the proper hat, gloves and shoes to match the dress is infinitely important. Good News for the Matronly Woman N A FORMER article I promised to study the dress problems of the matronly woman. In spite of her years—she is somewhere be- tween forty and fifty—a serene tranquillity graces her soul, which time has touched but lightly. In fact, the years have served only to deepen this calm sweetness. She can, therefore, contemplate with quiet good hu- mor the following “diagnosis” of stoutness: “Punch,” in sardonic vein, once cited a practice of the Victorian reign. It was no uncommon thing then for a woman of fashion to have two stout maids attach the strings of her corset to the bed posts and pull them tight about her tortured, shrinking waist. We are not any less conscious to-day, but we have learned that, as Emerson has it, there is a compensation for every seeming evil. In respecting our natural contours we gainin dignity and persuasiveness of costume. A slender pearl is beautiful in its kind; but a massive jewel has its realm of beauty too. There is majesty in the carriage of a tall woman who disposes of her weight with delightful ease by selecting the proper fabrics for her simple dresses. She religiously avoids fluffy stuffs and figured materials; she flees white or pale colors; she pillows herself in deep piled velvet. Her street costumes are such as deflect light rather than reflect light, and she is a connoisseur in blacks, finding just the right variation for her needs. In jewels she is circumspect, knowing that a thin chain with slender links chastens flesh, while round beads bulge it into prominence. A classic example comes to mind, drawn from the social life of the metropolis. An American matron of smiling amplitude domi- nates the boxes at the Metropolitan Opera House by converting girth into queenliness. Immersed in kind deeds and quiet philan- thropy, she: dresses to drape her character. In the brilliant array of dresses—on ex- hibit—hers is a delight to the eye and is almost ravishing in its simplicity, its unity of color and line and, with the addition of jewels discreetly disposed, she diverts atten- tion from girth to harmony, from stoutness to spirituality. Passing now to the problem of the short, stout woman, to which type our matron belongs, her figure has that heaviness which we associate with women of her years, and plumpness has settled in around shoulders and arms. The line from neck to waist is not appreciably longer than the line from waist to shoe top, and her hips are comparatively large. Here, frankly stated, is a problem in dress worthy of our matron’s spirit. Accept- ing these facts, we agree that our aim is so to dress her that she will not appear stouter and shorter than she really is. We will not do violence to her natural contour; we will simply drape nature. First, then, her gowns will be simply simple; she must forgo the vagaries of fashion with stoic resignation; she must avoid prominent and cardinal colors, study- ing the darker variations in color, without becoming somber or morose. There is no need to dress exclusively in blacks; certain subdued shades of purple and maroon will prove in good taste. But, above all, she must not ignore her complexion. Should it be sallow, a touch of soft lace, edging the neck line, will prove efficacious and will add a touch of youthfulness to the costume. The lines of her dress must be distributed; solid continuity in such a figure would be fatal. The only line that should be followed is in the waist, if the neck line is cut square. For instance: A square neck should not be followed by embroidery or folds in V-shape; the embellishment, if any, should follow the straight line of the square. She will, in her wisdom, taboo kimono sleeves, finding it preferable to have a fitted, set-in sleeve, attached to the lining. As for sleeve length, I should suggest that long sleeves have well-nigh exclusive domain, although three- quarter length for afternoon wear and elbow limit for evening wear may be indulged in. Color combinations in one gown will be avoided, if she is to add to her height. A white waist and a dark skirt will cry out in disharmony, but a waist and a skirt of one color will give the effect of reducing the figure and adding height. Skirts should be kept as rigidly straight in line as will escape stiffness, with overskirts taking the form of wide panels, always open at the sides so as to avoid roundness and accentuation of the hips. These panels should never be shorter than five inches from the hem. To break the monotony of too much straightness in line, a skirt draped in Grecian style should be followed, in which only one side is “hiked up” or draped. The length of her walking skirt should always reach the ankle and may venture lower only for formal dress and then only in proper relation to the style of gown worn. One-piece dresses should be broken at the waistline so that fullness may accrue in the place where it is needed. A fitted waistline with a wide girdle never less than three inches and a half is most attractive. This girdle should start at the natural waistline and descend; otherwise the line from shoul- der to waist would be shortened, thus widen- ing the figure beyond its natural girth. As for decoration, the girdle should never be finished with a bow; I should prefer it plain, so that it shows no break in the line; or with sash ends, to add length. The Choice of Materials is Crucial S I HAVE said before, the choice of ma- terials is crucial. For the matron, for ex- ample, gowns of chiffon or net should be replaced by materials which cling, such as crépe de Chine, or the soft, lustrous satin called ‘“‘kitten’s ear,” or the dull oriental silk known as Roshanara crépe. In general, materials of the taffeta family must be scru- pulously avoided, as these are more adapted to less matronly women. Now for the proper hat. Very large hats are not in good taste for our matron. A turban, not too severe in line and not too far off the face, is the ideal hat. Hats with small brims may also prove becoming, if color and style harmonize with the costume. The vogue of smart hats can safely be fol- lowed by matronly women, provided the colors chosen belong to the subdued family, and if lines, either in the design of the hat or in the way it is worn, are avoided. The Salvation Army Lassie By Beryl Leeson J ghia A muddy under foot an’ sleet a comin’ down; Every doughboy grouchin’ an’ wearin’ a big frown— Kinda wishin’ he wuz dead er some place far away, An’ then he sees the Army lass behind her doughnut tray. An’ oh! she has a smile for him—jus” seems to understan’ He needs someone to treat him good an’ help him be a man. Clean face an’ a clean apron—how she does it he can’t guess; Looks sweller to him forty times than any Georgette dress Could ever look, ’cause—don’t you know— the girl inside’s the dope That keeps a feller hopin’ when he’s lost clean out on hope. It kinda holds him onto life, jes’ seein’ that good face A-shinin’ o’er her coffee urn jes’ like she liked that place. Oh, golly! when a girl like her can be there too—an’ grin— Well, he’s a man—guess he can then—an’ so his grins begin. The world ain’t such a darn bad place when there’s a girl like that To shove the doughnuts ’fore his face an’ smile beneath her hat! Apri

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Sib ltaremmelitaleleny etch: eee aucXkyeltelem Gvetctaler= : RYsuslkwe Olwesevel-my Melll-um Grol comastete(-mialuamscoleres Mu-Jinlolulalemn yer | “og. A a et ee allt a me : 4 oer igh, And here also is the Roual recipe for the exe) olen (elmmatcavaeh (Ol umon atoll aColkKY lalate) | Kyau plolualluclellel-n mielucm eK Te melale sure, if made with ‘ Royal contains no adlum_ Leaves no bifter taste Never disturbs digestion NEW ROYAL COOK BOOK READY IT’S FREE! ROYAL BAKING POWDER COMPANY, lOO FULTON STREET, NEW YORK.N) Orange Layer Cake ¥Y, Cupful of Shortening 2/, Cupful of Milk 3 Teaspoonfuls of Royal 1 Teaspoonful of Vanilla : a of Sugar 1% Cupfuls of Flour Baking Powder Extract “22S REAM the shortening. Add the sugar and the yolks of the eggs. Cream well and add half the milk. Add half the flour, which has been sifted with the baking powder. Mix in the flavoring, milk and the remainder of the flour, Bake in two greased square layer tins in a moderate oven for about 20 minutes. Spread between layers and on top the following: ORANGE FILLING AND ICING: Whites of 2 eggs, 1 cupfuls of confectioners’ sugar and the juice, rind and soft pulp of lorange. Whip the eggs to a stiff froth. Add the sugar, a little at atime. Whip in the pulp, juice and rind of the orange. Nut and Raisin Rolls 2'4 Gupte of Flour 4 Teaspoonfuls of Royal 5 Tablespoonfuls of Shortening Raisins 1 Tablespoonful of Sugar Baking Powder 1 Egg Chopped Nuts ¥%, Teaspoonful of Salt 4%, Cupful of Milk ¥, Cupful of Sugar IFT the flour, baking powder, salt and sugar together. Add the melted shortening and beaten egg to the milk, and add to the dry ingredients, mixing well. Turn out on a floured board and knead slightly. Roll out very thin. Spread with butter and sprinkle with raisins, chopped nuts and a small amount of granulated sugar. Cut into about 4-inch squares. Roll each up as for jelly roll. Press the edges together. Brush with yolk of egg mixed with cold water. Sprinkle with a little sugar and allow to stand in a greased pan for about 15 minutes. Bake in a moderate oven from 20 to 25 minutes.

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Api u, iY Columbkéa Grafonola © You can dance till the very last note OMEBODY slips a new Columbia dance The Columbia Non-Set Automatic Stop, found record into the Grafonola. Back go the in Columbia Grafonolas exclusively, is the only rugs in a jiffy. And you're off. automatic stop that requires absolutely no setting. After that you can dance to your heart’s You simply place the tone arm needle on the delight with never a thought of stopping the record, and the Grafonola stops itself just as the motor when the end of a record is reached. last strains die away. Columbia Grafonolas—Standard Models up to $300; Period Designs up to $2100 COLUMBIA GRAPHOPHONE COMPANY, NEW YORK Canadian Factory: Toronto

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April, 1920 HOME JOURNAL

Features for Eggshelloogolums \ ‘ : \o9 These are Very Easily Made With Writing Ink Eggshelloogolums ~ Fun for the Easter Party: By Meredith Nugent a @

AUTION: Don’t put us near the fire, because heat softens our fastenings and takes away our strength. Heat is the only thing we are afraid of. When we become hot we slowly begin to topple over, and then fall to the ground and break into a hundred pieces. So it is necessary that we keep cool while performing. And, too, I must tell you that that fellow at the bottom of the “‘ Big Six’”’ is fastened to a bit of board with plenty and plenty of sealing wax. He looks to be very proud of his strength, but the sealing wax is holding him up.

HIS shows how bodies of animals and heads of animals and figures are made. Bodies and heads are made by slipping half shells slightly into one another, and fastening them in place with tiny dabs of sealing wax.

The Amazing “Big Six” UR heads and bodies are made of eggshells. Our arms and legs are short pieces of twigs. Our hands and feet are bits of eggshell. Our plumes are chicken feathers. We are fastened together and to one another with seal-

ing wax. We can be made to perform the most astonishing feats, and because we are hol- low we are very, very light and weight is almost unknown to us.

The Leaf-Tailed Giraffe Y HEAD and body are made of eggshells fastened together with sealing wax. My neck is a stick of dried wood from a rosebush. My legs are simply four crooked twigs fas- tened to my eggshell body with sealing wax. My toes are small bits of twigs fastened to the bottom of my legs, and my toenails are bits of eggshell. My tail—of which I am very proud—is simply a dried leaf. The markings on my body are dabs of red sealing wax. My horn is a delicate bit of forked twig. I measure two feet in height. A Circus in Eggshelloogolumville— the Daring Bareback Rider EADS and bodies of clowns and deer are eggshells. Arms and legs of clowns, as well as legs and neck of deer, are twigs. Deer’s antlers are two delicate pieces of forked twig, and they serve admirably for this purpose. Ears of deer are two small dried leaves. Tail on deer and plume on clown are chicken feathers. Hands and feet of clowns and hoofs of deer are pieces of eggshell. Deer is bal- anced on its fore feet with sealing wax placed underneath the front hoofs. Clown is held in position in same way. Clown on spool holds in his hands a circular piece of writing paper through which the acrobat has just burst.

The Ludicrous Tum -Tum— Only Just Hatched EAD and body of this creature are eggshells. Wings are two large dried leaves. Tail is a chicken feather. Legs are dried twigs, toes small pieces of twigs attached to legs with sealing wax, and toenails bits of eggshell. Antenna is a fine bit of forked twig. Features are marked on head with ordinary writing ink. All fastenings are made instantaneously with sealing wax. This combina- tion of twigs and eggshells lends itself to the making of an infinitude of ridiculous creatures. There is practically no limit to its absurd possibilities.

e Becoming & ARGE women can present a charm- ing appearance. Stoutness is not a barrier to good looks—if you learn the secret of proper dress. Stout women can wear the same smart styles as slender women, but they must be specially adapted for stout figures— with lines that create a slender appear- ance and reduce apparent size. Lane Bryant, Specialist For 20 years we have been studying the clothes requirements of the stout figure. Our ready-to- wear clothes not only fit perfectly but they positively make the wearer appear slender. Sizes 38 to 56 Bust We carry in stock all sizes up to 56 bust for both long and short waisted figures. We can fit you no matter what your size or the type of your figure. All garments made in our own work- rooms. Quality the best—prices the very lowest. Style Book FREE The only style book pub- lished exclusively for stout women. Pictures all the newest and smartest Summer Styles in Dresses, Coats, Suits, Waistsand Cor- sets. Sent abso- lutely FREE. Write for your copy TO-DAY.

Your - Money back iy if not satisfied ~<4/to Dept 56 bane Bryant Pent NewYork

_<

Maternity Ap parel Za 5

XPECTANT moth- ers, you need not add the unpleasantness of unbecoming, makeshift clothes to the other bur- dens of this trying time. Pretty Clothes Are Such A Help You can wear what other women are wearing—the same smart styles—the only difference is that they are specially designed by Lane Bryant to meet your needs. They concealthecondition, hang evenly, expand as re- quired without alteration. Lowest Prices Not an extra expense, auto- matically adjust to fit when the figure again returns to normal. We make all — ments in our own factories. Best quality, lowest prices. Style Book FREE’ Picturing the new Summer Stylesin Maternity Dresses Coats, Suits, Skirts, Waists and Corsets. Also Baby Clothes and Nursery Fur- niture. Sent to you FREE. \ YOUR MONEY \\ BACK IF NOT »\ SATISFLED. FREE Write TO-DAY to Dept55 Bryant easter. New York

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SS ee 66 Home-Baked Some beans crisped. Some mushy, some broken. Skins are tough. All under baked. Hard to digest. No zestful sauce. Van Camp’s Every bean whole. None crisped, none broken. Mellow and mealy. Tender skins. Per- fectly baked. Easy to digest. All flavor intact. A szestful sauce. ps Chili Con Carne HOME JOURNAL * ompare the Two Learn How Baked Beans Differ Baked Beans, for many reasons, must be baked in scientific ways. Compare the home-baked with Van Camp’s and ‘you will see the reason. We select the beans. Each lot is analyzed before we start to cook. Our boiling water is freed from minerals. Hard water makes skins tough. Van Camp’s are baked in modern steam ovens. There we bake them for hours at high heat without crisping or bursting the beans. This high-heat baking makes beans easy to digest. ; A Studied Dish Van Camp’s are baked under scientific cooks—men with college training. They have spent years in perfecting this delicious, hygienic dish. They make a sauce which is the final result of testing 856 recipes. And that sauce is baked with the beans. They bake beans in sealed contain- ers so the flavor can’t escape. Such beans were never baked any- where outside the Van Camp kitchens. We have the facilities, the skill, the experience. ; A Domestic Science expert watche every process. Don’t spend all those hours in boiling and baking. And don’t buy a lesser dish. Baked Beans are too important. VAN CAMP'S Perk and Baked With theVan Camp Sauce —Also Without It Other Van Camp Products Include Evaporated Milk Spaghetti Peanut Butter Catsup Chili Sauce, etc. Prepared in the Van Camp Kitchens at Indianapolis April, 1920 thes (Hinge ma Parnct SP SP rg Van Camp’s Sou —18 Kinds Famous French recipes per- fected by our scientific cooks. The prize Italian recipe, but made with ideal ingredients. Van Camp’s Peanut Butter Spaghetti removed. Made from blended nuts, with every skin, every bitter heart are = So er A Look of the Copperleys (CONTINUED F exclaimed, ‘“‘and that feller from Providence was to have reported to me at eleven-thirty !” He looked at her angrily, as if she had some- how tricked him, turned on his heel and hur- ried to the warehouse where he had installed his office. But Araby’s lips smiled, the black light was still in her deep eyes. She had called forth the Other One. For one whole precious hour she had been with the person she loved. Perhaps she could really command that per- son. Perhaps Ben Salisbury could really be- come That Other. She consciously drew the forces of her concentration inward, gathering them, that she might compel. It was to be a battle now, her will and desire against the animal creature that was the dominant part of Ben Salisbury. FE CAME to the house on the hill that night, seeking her. Neither the cap- tain nor Aunt Eula was overcordial, but Araby’s heart sang. He stayed quite two hours, and The Other came to the surface without effort. The next day and the next he found time to be with her. Not that he was always as she willed; far from it. His loath- some, detestable, aggressive personality sick- ened the air, but there was never a visit during which The Other Soul did not show itself. Captain Morton observed the growing in- timacy askance. His wife was outspoken. ‘‘ Yourre not gct- ting interested in that scalawag?”’ she asked sharply. ‘Mark my words, Araby, there’s no good in him, if he 7s kin. Your uncle has heard things already from the lower town. I wouldn’t lay myself out to be baitin’ him if I were you.” ‘ Araby laughed. The familiar phrase of the coast towns appealed to her. Truly she was “baitin’,” but she sought to catch some- thing so strange and elusive that she did not dare put it into words. Then for days he did not come. In despair she sought him on the wharves and was received with such discourtesy that she returned hurt and throbbing with shame. “Comin’ here to waste my time,” she overheard him say to the ice-house foreman. “Let these small-town girls think a guy has money and they’ll pester the life out of him.” With cheeks aflame she had gone. In her room she had gulped and gasped, striving to check her tears, knowing that her aunt’s keen eyes would see and divine something of the cause. Ben avoided her openly, insultingly. His coarse nature divined her appeal to the “tom- fool” in him and resented it. He mentally kicked himself for humoring her. Truth to tell, he couldn’t understand why he had humored her at all. When she “got her hay hooks in on a feller,” as he expressed it to himself, ‘‘she sorter got you to talking rot”’; so he’d “jolly well leave her alone.” And Araby grieved with a sorrow all the deeper that she felt so helpless. The fate that had overtaken her was so inexplicable. How could one hate a man and yet devotedly love him the next moment? How could he appeal to every delicate, responsive fiber of her imaginative being, and the next moment offend beyond forgiveness? Yet so it was. O CAP the climax, Salisbury arrived at the house on the hill one night much the worse for liquor. Captain Morton was down at the Port Club, and to get rid of Ben with- out calling in the neighbors was impossible. Frightened and nauseated the two women sat, listening to his maunderings, his brag- gings, his evil tales, punctuated by hiccup- ing guffaws. Sick to her very soul, Araby made a supreme effort to force herself to the full realization of his infamy. She would look him in the face and once and for all time cure herself of the absurd notion that this creature of the flesh of abomination could ever be anything to her. It was inevitable that her uncle should for- bid him the house after this. It was incon- ceivable that she should so forget her pride as ever to seek him out again. Let her see the truth and uproot the insane belief in any other personality than this gross: Caliban. At last the interminable ordeal was over. With a drunken leer he announced that he “had a date to keep in the lower town” and lurched out through the white garden gate. The click of the latch was like the clanging of iron gates in Araby’s heart. Mercifully her aunt said nothing. There was nothing to be said. Ben Salisbury had showed himself up with such completeness that there was no necessity for comment, and Araby, heartsick, miserable beyond tears, vould not find it in her heart to renounce the Other One. Ben Salisbury was doing the ROM PAGE 9) Other One a terrible wrong. He ought to be killed for it. She was the champion of the Other One. Then, quite calmly, she came to the con- clusion that she was mad. She debated tell- ing her aunt. Perhaps she ought to be put away for the sake of others, but the necessity of explaining stopped her. She could not reveal her heart. In spite of the rigid secrecy maintained by the Mortons, the story got out. Doubtless Ben Salisbury had told it himself with em- bellishments. All communication between him and the house on the hill ceased. In the town Ben bragged that ‘‘it was a good gag, if a girl got stuck on you, to can the whole thing by gettin’ soused and goin’ to the house. It was an old gag, but it always worked.” Thus, to save himself among the water-front companions of his selection, he dragged Araby’s name along the wharves. Captain Morton threatened to thrash him for it. He was saved the trouble—the whole town loved Araby. Shamed and miserable, she kept to the house. She knew she had sought Ben Sal- isbury out and tried in every way to bring him to her. But the shame and self- accusation were as nothing to the suffering of her loss. She felt at times that she owed it to the Other One to go to him. Even to face the creature in which that soul was bound. The soul had a right to her, as she had a right to it, and she was letting her pride deny that right. Then she argued that she was mad, and unless she wanted so to declare herself, she must maintain the appearance of sanity. And ever the heart hunger grew. She had never known love. She had dreamed of love, as all girls do, as something wonderful and greatly to be desired, as something that bound two hearts together in happiness. But this torture, this sundering of spirit, this agony of helplessness, this facing a blank wall of the impossible! The passion would not die, it burned like an acid, eating its way into brain and heart. Each new story of Ben’s career of brutality and vul- garity left her more distraught, more broken. HEN the town flamed with the news that Ben Salisbury was to marry Pearl Con- nors, daughter of “‘Cap’”’ Connors, captain of the never-to-be-suppressed industry of liquor smuggling, a girl of the wharves and Social Club dances, well known on Main Street, with her white shoes and gaudy blouses and skirts of hectic stripe that matched either the carmine of her cheeks or the brittle yel- low of her crimped hair. And Araby suffered an_ indescribable jealousy. Between them they were killing The Other! What right had this lemon- haired, loud, unspeakably common girl to look into the eyes of The Other? She wouldn’t see, wouldn’t know when the soul came to the window. How could she awaken anything except the animal that was Ben Salisbury? She hated Pearl Connors— Pearl Connors, who in all the years they had both lived in the same town had only existed for her as a name, none too clean and not often spoken in the clear air of the Upper Town. Now it was as if her memory had all her life been taking snapshots of Pearl Connors. She recalled her sucking straws at the soda counter of the drug store; standing on the bowsprit of catboats out for cheap picnics; posing in the raw light of the opened door- way of the Commercial Hotel, holding noisy converse. | THE tumult of her mind and heart Araby somehow managed to hold head- way. She was quiet, rather listless and pale, her aunt thought; but then “the child had the queer ivory color of the Edmonds’”’; true, she was thin; her slim shoulders seemed to be drawn together; but, Mrs. Morton re- flected, nowhere in the family was there any tubercular tendency; however, two of the Prestons had been rather anemic. So she brewed a tonic, according to Grandmother Pease’s recipe, and enriched the daily menus with creams and custards. If Araby could have confided in anyone, if she had possessed a friend with imagination enough to share her suffering and hopeless self-analysis, she might-have been spared much. A thousand times a day she wished she had never seen her tormentor, and all her wakeful nights she gave thanks for the moments, the rare moments of “the look of the Copperleys.” She hugged the memory of that feeling of passionate, complete under- standing, of intimate rapture, that hint and CONTINUED ON PAGE 67 April,

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April, 1920 HOME JOUR A Look of the Copperleys (CONTINUED FROM PAGE 66) hope of an unguessed joy, the earnest of companionship that must in its realization be heaven. And Pearl Connors was to be married to Ben Salisbury! That put the final thrust through her heart. No matter what hap- pened, with Pearl Connors his wife, she could never again even see him. She dare not even glance at him in passing. She might see The Look reproaching her for her abandonment and desertion. Days and months passed, and she drank her cup of sorrow to the dregs—alone, and in doubt of her own reason. RABY settled her slender arms in the sleeves of the blue taffeta. Another weary day was drawing to a close; another night of hopeless self-torture confronted her. But she had been asked to the Prestons’ across the way, and they would think it “funny” if she didn’t come. She had worn silly excuses threadbare. Her aunt’s re- peated “What is the matter with you, Ar- aby? Do you want to get the stay-at-home habits of old folks? ’Tain’t healthy; run along now” had got on her raw and aching nerves. Listlessly she dragged the gown about her, and one by one snapped the hooks of her ribbon belt, so loose from her waist that it hardly marked the line any more. She glanced in the mirror. How white she was! “T wonder if I put on rouge like Pearl Connors ” she thought, and with a little gasp of pain thrust the image of the girl from her mind. “I wonder why my hair doesn’t turn white?” She twisted the heavy coils to the base of her neck. “Insane people turn white, they say.” She leaned forward, held the candle close, and looked at herself curiously. She sighed, blew out the light and slipped down the stairs as lightly and silently as a drifting night moth. She paused on the threshold. Across the street the lights glowed yellow in the Preston windows. There was laughter. Someone was at the old piano that so badly needed tuning. Between her and the street the garden stretched, inundated by moonlight. The passion flowers on the vines were blue and round and immobile. The figurehead of The Ceres towered above her, breasting flowery foam. The breath of garden pinks spiced the waiting air. A quick step on the board walk, the click of the latch—someone coming over for her, she surmised, and slowly idled onward down the walk. The face of the newcomer was in shadow, but his shape and movement as he came toward her were not familiar. He was close to her now. She looked up. ““You’re Araby, aren’t you? I don’t won- der they call you that.” She caught her breath painfully. The light from the opened door revealed the curve of his cheek and the glint of curly hair brightly bronzed, deep, level, gentian eyes, a smooth skin that glowed ruddy as a pomegranate, a smile as sweet as the heart of a child. But— but this—this was The Soul embodied! For a swaying moment the wild thought flashed that The Other One had somehow broken the bonds of his prison and made himself manifest. Her hand went out slowly in greeting. He took it. His eyes held to hers in in- stant union. “Araby,” he repeated—“ but you don’t know who I am, do you?” “Oh, yes,” she whispered; “yes.” “But how could you know? Even Ben had no idea I was coming. I’m his brother Will Why, how white you are. Have you been ill?” “Yes,” she smiled up at him; “yes, I have been ill and very lonely.” The odd confession did not seem to sur- prise him. In fact, after the first glad amaze- ment of their meeting, nothing seemed strange. “T don’t wonder. You don’t belong in this environment any more than I did at home. I had to get out. I paint a bit and write. I suppose Ben told you.” “No,” she answered. He laughed. “Of course he wouldn’t, come to think of it; but, you see, I had a hunch that I wanted to know the old town that has been so much a part of all of our people—though, for myself, I don’t think I’ve got a single drop of Pease or Salisbury or Morton blood in me. I’m just Copperley.”’ “‘T know you are,” she nodded. “AND I came to find a picture I’d heard about.” His voice lowered to a warm whisper. “I thought it was a portrait of Joshua Morton, by William Copperley. I fancied it might be here in the old house; and the picture is here, but it isn’t of Joshua Morton, and nobody but God himself could have created it, for it’s beautiful Araby, with her eyes like the desert and her face like snow. I didn’t know it, but that’s the pic- ture I came to find—you!” Her spirit rose on a great buoyant wave of joy. The vast star spaces were hers once more—only now without let or hindrance. This was the glimpsed heaven of perfect understanding, the rhythm of accord. “Oh,” she murmured, “if you only knew how I’ve broken my heart to find you—if you only knew!” From the battered piano across the street came familiar chords. Alonzo Preston’s easy tenor took up the strains of an old song: “T’ll sing thee songs of Araby.’”’ The tender notes cascaded like silver over the moonlit garden, where she stood with her new-found soul, and each read The Look in the other’s eyes. HE shades are drawn, the lamps are lit, Across the wall vague shadows flit, And mother, smiling, gently rocks And dreams above her button box. The button box, the button box, With souvenirs of vanished frocks And party gowns of yesteryear, Old-fashioned now, but once how dear! These disks of metal, bone and shell Have each a little tale to tell; And that which keeps the varied hoard— The battered box—so richly stored, To her who loves remembrance, is A treasury of memories. That giant button had its day On father’s ulster, rough and gray— A shield of horn that Baby John So loved to try his teeth upon; While this, that might have served an elf, Belonged to Baby John himself. That pearly whiteness held in place Some part of Edith’s bridal lace; The Button Box By Arthur Guiterman And this appeared on nothing less Than Mary’s graduation dress. These sparkling bits of glass recall A Christmas feast, a New Year’s ball; And who that saw her could forget When grandma wore these rounds of jet! And oh, what memories of pride, Of dread, of hope and joy abide In this bronze button, loved the best, Whereon the eagle seal is pressed, That gleamed through flame and battle storm Upon a khaki uniform! The button box of long ago! Its true delights the children know Who thread its many-colored gems For necklaces and diadems; Or, in their vivid play behold, A pirate chest of pearls and gold! And this worn coffer they who will May find a fairy casket still, When Memory her stores unlocks And pours them from the button box. Digs NAL 67 Interior Walls Make or Mar Your Home HE first impression of the guest entering your home is—walls. ‘“‘Did you ever see anything as hideous as those walls!’’ is not an uncommon comment. But not in the home where good taste and good judgment insist upon modern, up-to-date decorating, with walls artistically and sanitarily tinted in soft tones that harmonize so pleasingly with curtains, rugs and furniture. “‘T just love to go there—her home is so sweet and dainty,” is what you hear where decorating is done with AS ~ In€ Wall Paper Alabastine, a dry powder, is mixed in a minute with pure cold water, easily and evenly applied with a suitable wall brush to any interior surface—plastered walls, wall-board, over paint, burlap or canvas, or even old wall paper where it is fast, has no raised figures and contains no aniline dyes. Look for the Cross and Circle Printed in Red The cross and circle printed in red on every package is your guarantee of receiving Alabastine, the wall coating which for nearly 50 years has been recognized nationally as the correct interior finish for buildings of all kinds—homes, clubs, hos- pitals, auditoriums, churches, schools and all public buildings. Write for Free Interchangeable Color Chart If you employ a decorator tell him to bring Alabastine in original packages, always identified by the cross and circle printed in red. Poor results on your walls show that a substitute for Alabastine has been used. Insist on Alabastine—the nationally accepted wall tint. Instead of Ralsemine pe 5-lb. package white Alabastine............ 75c 5-lb. package tinted Alabastine........... 80c - Special deep shades (No. 33, dark green; en oe Oe eee am ~ Oe lg Cue ° eee ot The Alabastine Company Ses 364 Grandville Ave., Grand Rapids, Mich. oe ves Wal\ \ MIX IN ONE MINUTE WITH COLD WATER THE ONLY TOOL NEEDED TO APPLY M\\ Wit ‘vA AY \ ‘ AY NS AN Ny ANN Wd sy SAN 2a iN, 4 - >" 5 W \ SW Your Local Dealer Is Entitled to Your Trade ee

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PE DE Aatwee Aare 68 hii ae a ee pee gy ae f . eh ee ae ee jade. ~— 5V107 q\\ x ¥ HOME JOURNAL These Are Some of the Newest Styles in Smart Blouses 2Vi111 Hand Beaded Slip-Over Blouse of beautiful quality Georg- ette Crepe. This blouse comes in Navy Blue, Bisque or Flesh Pink and the beading of brilliant crystal and bugle beads isapplied by hand. Back is also beaded. Short sleeves have Georgette cuffs with picot a ae Luxury Tax 0c. Postage 5c extra 2V112 Slip-Over Smock Blouse of finest Georgette Crepe, embroidered in self color. The embroidery is in all-over effect. The*blouse has silk rope girdle c@fd and tie at neck as pictured.#‘Colors: Flesh Pink, Bisque or Blue Dawn. Sizes 32 to 46 bust price. . oP nee $16.98 Luxury Tax 2c. Postage 5cextra F 5V107 Fashionable Coat of all Wool Velour, cut in fashionable length. Collar and cuffs of stylish con- trasting Angora Fur Cloth. Has tie sash at front; pockets have triple flaps. Unlined. Colors: Tan,Gray or Copenhagen Blue. Sizes 82 to 46 bust. me it $24.95 ea lic extra \ 35V104 Frock of wits, * . ¢ Silk with corded shirred and trimming of rich, antique gilt passe- menterie. tunic sleeves, of front. Navy Blue or Black. Sizes 32 to 46 bust, skirt length 39 inches with deep basted ' $37. 95 hem Postage lic extra Fastens at side Stylish short Colors: Gray, 2V113 Dainty Button-in the- Back Blouse of all-over em- broidered White Voile with rounded collar effect formed by ruffles of Val lace. Cuffs on short sleeves have lace ruffles to match. Blouse is finished with ae eee ee Postage 5c extra April, 1920 Return Mail If You Write for it IVIOl d Silk Pongee 35V105 Smart Frock of all Silk Pongee in Natural Tan only. A tunic model embroidered by hand in silk and Chenille as pic- tured. The tunic blouse is trimmed with self-cov- ered buttons. Fastens at side of front. Sizes 32 to 46 bust, skirt length 39 inches with deep basted ite Bement $29.95 ee 15c extra Wool Tricotine 1V101 Smart Tailored Suit of fine all Wool Trico- tine in Navy Blue only. Coat has tucked back and flared tucked peplum. Vest is of richly colored Oriental Brocade. Coat is lined with silk. Plain skirt with detachable belt of self material. Navy Blue only. Sizes 32 to 46 bust, skirt length 39 inches with eoee erteer $49. 95 Postage lic extra Via ‘BELLAS HESS Apt >

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“Se

April, 1920 HOME JOURNAL

Your Copy of Our Spring Fashion Catalogue is Ready NOW! May we send it to you? All the new Easter Fashions are shown in this Wonderful Style Book. Just a few of our new styles are illustrated on the two pages of the magazine you are now looking at. Our Catalogue contains many more. Just drop us a postal card addressed to Bellas Hess & Co., New York, N. Y., and say “Send me a copy of your new Spring You will receive it by return Catalogue.” mail. You may order the styles illustrated from this magazine, if you wish to. er a 2 nae, febust $37.90 Postage 15c extra Sr" 5V106 Stunning Sport yi

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HOME JOURNAL “% >? whee co i? 4 ee ss oe § Nw) is | ¥ *, “a7, . ee. ®

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Sac IER Ee te ne ee or Personality It isn’t vanity that causes you to go to the photographer’s for a portrait but a sincere desire to visualize your real se/f for the pleasure of friends and loved ones. ames Never as today has portraiture accomplished so much in depict- ing personality. The better pho- tographers everywhere are to be depended upon. Most of them give added charac- ter to their portraits by the use of mountings which bear this hallmark:—

PHASE of Miss Justine Johnstone's beauty given photographic expression by Elias Golden- sky of Philadelphia. It is logical that Goldensky Collins Ultrafine Mountings , p complete the motif, as he so frequently are the vogue among photogra- es, with a Collins mounting. phers who prefer beautiful, orig- inal and exclusive effects with a genuine outward appeal. A.M. COLLINS MANUFACTURING CoO. Philadelphia U.S. A. Makers for60 years of mount- ings that are as distinctive as they are beautiful and lasting.

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April, 1920 HOME JOURNAL = jo (of jo of jJoso[ jo Oo, Joo a L] I Didn’t Know That- id You? N BOOTH TARKINGTON’S comedy of “Clarence’”’ the audience has a laugh be- cause some of the people in the play didn’t know what ‘‘Coleoptera”’ meant. The laugh is a little bit delayed, because most of the audi- ence has to wait until one of the characters looks the word up in the dictionary. I did. And then I turned to my companion and said: ‘Well, I didn’t know that—did you?” The first International Conference of Women Phy- sicians, now disbanded and its members literally scat- tered to the four winds on their way home to Europe, South America, China, Japan, Scandinavia, Russia, Yonkers, and all points west, was unique as the first clearing house ever held where scientific women could get together and exchange experiences. The later sessions were attended by twenty-eight delegates from fourteen national women’s organizations of the United States, representing a collective membership of more than ten million American women. They were not any of the things that make us shudder, nor were they ‘‘motherly old ladies’’; none of them did any knitting or fancywork; they were young-looking, good-looking women whose clothes were of the pre- vailing mode, whether of Shanghai or Fifth Avenue. They were thoroughly informed. They knew what they wanted to say, and said it—a crisp, crackling interchange of all the languages of Babel, which sifted down through interpreters to the two world tongues, French and English. When the conference began a large sign hung over the stage: ‘‘For the Health of the Womanhood of the World.” Before it ended someone had drawn a line through ‘‘ Womanhood.” The problems attacked were not new; the World War had concentrated attention on them because the war intensified them, widened their scope and made their solution of world-wide importance to the future well-being of humanity. Such a conference was inevitable. The Social Mor- ality Committee of the Y. W. C. A., confronted by these problems in its war work, realized a little sooner than other people the necessity for some action because they were more familiar with conditions. When that committee invited this conference, therefore, it only anticipated what must otherwise have been; but that anticipation is of incalculable value to the people of America. Again and again during the sessions we found ourselves turning to our neighbors and saying: “I didn’t know that—did you?” Round Shoulders and Microbes OR instance, the babies: The doctors who con- ducted the examination of the soldiers in the draft army remarked that a very large percentage of the young men were decidedly round-shouldered. I didn’t know the germscaused that—did you? About eighteen or twenty years ago the germ theory of disease began to come to people’s attention generally. After that they wouldn’t let baby crawl on the floor any more for fear that he might pick up something. Deprived of that exercise, which would have pushed baby’s shoulders back and © BACHRACH © BACHRACH © Y. Ww. C. A. PHOTO SERVICE Dr. Thuillier-Landry Dr. Christine M. Murrell Dr. Valeria H. Parker France England U.S.A. By H. A. Stewart on sex appeal, but on class distinctions, and the standardization of styles by the large manufacturers has resulted at times in clothing that is injurious to health. In children, and particularly young girls, the weight of the garment should be swung from the shoulders and not from the hips. At all ages the gar- ment should be adapted particularly to play. There is a very direct relation between productive, success- ful effort and play. Man Cannot Live by White Bread Alone EN years ago physiologists thought that any ra- tion or diet which included certain percentages of proteins, starches, sugars, fats, oils and mineral salts would meet all human requirements. To their sur- prise they found that animals confined to a diet which contained only these known constituents lived only as long as it took them to starve to death. There was something lacking to transmute these substances into food. A little later they learned that the mere addition of butter fat or egg-yolk fat stopped the starvation and induced growth, and that the intercellular fats from the liver, kidneys and other glandular organs of animals possessed the same properties. Vegetable oils and the body fat from animals, such as lard and tallow, failed. There is something in certain fats which is necessary for growth and for the mainte- nance of health in the adult. This something consists of three as yet chemically unidentified substances. Changes in the milling of cereals due to the centrali- zation of mills involves periods of storage for the ground product of six months or more. In the little mill of the old days the grain was ground between stones. To-day it is subjected to a breaking or crush- ing process which cracks the kernel up into fine par- ticles, and is then sifted or bolted. The germ of the seed, being oily and plastic, does not grind to a fine state and is readily sifted out. This germ is a cell structure and contains the dietary value of the grain. The remainder of the seed or endosperm pos- sesses poor dietary properties. Bolted wheat flour is therefore inferior to whole wheat as a food. Wheat flour, corn meal or rice, which still contains the germ, will harbor insects when warm weather comes; also the oil in the germ tends to become rancid. For these reasons, if kept in storage for any considerable time, the manufacturer would risk a loss, and hence it is degerminated so it will keep. Meat —and Old Age MERICANS prefer the “‘ muscle cuts” in meat, which, together with cereals and potatoes, form their principal items of diet. In the large cities, where © E. JANE HARDCASTLE Dr. Alicia Moreau Argentine © E. JANE HARDCASTLE Dr. Celie Lolloni Italy the mortality from tuberculosis is high, the en- tire diet is made from these things. Arterio- sclerosis, kidney lesions and heart defects are called the diseases of old age. Where they formerly appeared only in people of fifty-five years and beyond, they are invading with increasing fre- quency the earlier decades. These changes occurred simultaneously with the revolutionizing of the milling and packing industries. Grain, as it is now milled, meat and potatoes are not in themselves adequate. Those three important, nameless somethings are not present. Such a diet should be supplemented by leafy foods, whole grain and more dairy products. Men and Women in Industry ‘te ERE is nothing arising definitely from sex which limits the sphere of a woman’s activity to mother- hood, or which says that the end and aim of a man’s existence is to become a father. The last survey— in 1910—showed that, of girls between the ages of sixteen and twenty-one, one out of every four was gainfully employed. Matrimony was interfering less and less with continuous employment, for between the ages of twenty-one and forty-four one-quarter of all employed women were married. After forty-five years the number of employed women drops to one out of seven. Recent investigations made in England, France and the United States do not entirely support the asser- tion that the employment of women causes a high rate of infant mortality. More babies die in the United States, whose mothers are employed outside the home, than in either England or France; but it must be remembered we have neither special legislation to provide nursing or resting time for the working mother or a disposition on the part of employers to provide such intervals without being required to do so by law, as they have abroad. Also, American women do not, as a rule, seek em- ployment outside the home until impelled to do so by necessity, and the unfavorable showing results pos- sibly as much from poor living conditions as from the sole fact of employment. War Losses in the Ranks of the Babies DIDN’T know that the war had affected American babies much—did you? It has. Surveys made by state and Federal Child Welfare bureaus show that in 1914 five out of every hundred school children in the country were undernourished. In 1915 it was six out of every hundred. That was about the pre-war average, but in 1916 it went to eleven out of every hundred, and in 1917 to twenty-one; in 1918 it dropped to nineteen out of every hundred. It was due to wrong feeding, not ignorantly, but through the vital economic relation of income to outgo. The price of food has increased, relatively, four times faster than wages all over the country. As a general thing, adults did not suffer real deprivation on this account. The grown-up needs only enough food for the re- strengthened the muscles which hold them there, baby grew up with his clavicles held at an angle to each other instead of being in the same plane. Animals which go on all fours have no collar bones. The human, who walks upright, hasa collar bone, and baby needs that crawling time to set his collar bone properly. Baby should go barefoot, too, to permit the proper development of his feet, particularly the great toes. Stockings that are too short in baby- hood are the seeds of bunions in the after years. Children’s Clothes and Play } placement of waste and the repair of tissue, but the child has a need in excess of these—the material for growth. It was this excess which was lacking to one child out of every five in 1917, as a direct result of a war which was taking place three thousand miles away. Expecting the Impossible HILDREN should be helped to do what they can get immediate satisfaction in doing—that is, what they can carry unaided to success- fulcompletion. Before puberty they should not be expected to accomplish consecutive work. It is this expecta- LOTHING for children should satisfy the demands of modesty, but permit the greatest freedom of movement. Fashions are not based © BACHRACH tion which makes present-day aca- lias demic education so disappointing; Dr. Tomo Inouye Dr. Dagney Bang Dr. Ida Kahn Japan Norway China CONTINUED ON PAGE 72 a (DSteCists sts (eel = 2 = Jos Qaco 90o.e(jsiel jajof Joo jo,of joo)

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ee a Rabe LA. 6 vied ei ee Ss een HOME JOURNAL “Seasoning Suggestions” Things You Never Thought of —— one said “Seasoning is the soul of food.” If that be true then the new book “‘Seasoning Suggestions” represents the open door to perfect cooking. In this book are gathered for the first time about 150 recipes of unusual delight of which the secret is the exquisite touch, the zestful savor of perfect seasoning. Many of these recipes you know in the ordinary way, but they present many new charms for the taste when improved with LEA & PERRINS SAUCE The only original Worcestershire Famous the world over as a table sauce of such surpassing excellence that it is almost a necessity. Lea & Perrins Sauce is equally indispensable in good cooking. “‘Seasoning Suggestions” tells you how to prepare Dinner Appetizers, gravies, sauces, chowders and soups, croquettes, casseroles, stews, meats, fish, shellfish, eggs, omelets, soufflés, creole dishes, vegetables, chafing dish suppers, sandwich fillings, catsups, chutneys, home- made relishes, salads, etc. Send for ‘‘Seasoning Sugges- tions’’ and learn about things you never thought of—Free. Jan 237 West Street New York, N. Y. THE ORIGING a be de eee wid of ; ics = Via ee April, 1920 I Didn’t Know That— Did You? (CONTINUED FROM PAGE 71) we expect the impossible. On the other hand, children, who have been allowed to play and not expected to do much or any school work, frequently manifest after puberty a surprising fund of practical knowl- edge which they have picked up in the course of their play, and, what is still more important, an amazing ability to assimilate academic subjects at an almost incredible rate of speed. Infantile Fixation to be Avoided F EQUAL importance, during the years of plasticity in the life of a child, is the avoidance of any act tending to produce in after years what psychoanalysts call “‘in- fantile fixation.” Infantile fixation is, roughly, the arrest of spiritual development, as a result of which, by causes not yet adequately ascertained, some ten million American women. The resolutions may be summed up as follows: In the future, positive health education should form an important part of the work of physicians, since it is the essential means for the prevention of illness and the estab- lishment of a new attitude toward health. With special regard to women and children, as exercise is necessary to good health, par- ticularly under modern conditions of life, communities are urged to supply easily accessible facilities for such exercise, namely, public gymnasia, swimming pools, recrea- tion and health centers. It was also urged that women be stimulated through health education to make full use of these oppor- tunities; to adopt fashions of dress consist- ent with freedom of movement, physical development, and fitness for the wearer’s particular occupation; that young girls be dissuaded from wearing corsets; and that boots adult desires are fixed upon objects essentially childish. Enough has been learned, however, to know that its founda- tion occurs in the first nine years of life, when, during this period, a child has lived subjec- tively instead of objec- tively, inward instead of outward. At this time com- mands and exhortations ate worse than of no avail. Telling a child, “You are reserved and unsocial,” stamps the and shoes be selected chiefly with a view to conforming to the nat- ural form of the foot, and the manufacture of such shoes be definitely encouraged. Food Important Also T WAS further advo- cated that periodic regular physical exami- nation of infants and children, up to the school-leaving age, be made, and means be taken to make it possi- ble for the child to © E. JANE HARDCASTLE pattern more deeply upon the plastic child scious of inferiority. On the contrary, every manifestation of objectivity on the part of children should always be encouraged. The child should be encouraged to tell his fears. The average adult has forgotten the terrible fears of child- hood that oppressed him or her, and which are usually repressed because the child is afraid to show them. One supreme spiritual function of the parent is to unload unpleasant emotions from the soul of the child. If they are not allowed to find expression in some way, «hey will, in the child’s later life as an adult, do considerable damage be- cause of their continued Dr. Radmila Lazarewitch soul and makes it con- Serbia obtain whatever treat- ment is recommended; that adults also be en- couraged similarly to present themselves for such regular periodic examination; and that people be encouraged especially to present themselves for such ex- amination before marriage. Since appetizing, nutritious food, well cooked, is necessary for health, it was also advocated that people should be instructed in food values and encouraged to arrange their diet wisely, and especially that fresh food, such as milk, leafy vegetables and fruits, should be recommended as a necessary part of the regular dietary; that the authori- ties should be urged to provide opportunity to obtain such food at reasonable rates and accumulation. Failure in School ERHAPS children fail in school studies so often because in the schools so much stress is laid on the mark, or theprize, and not enough on work for its own sake. Play is not like that. A child plays a game primarily because he en- joys it; mastery only heightens that enjoy- ment, and if he measures his skill against that of another child, it is not under sanitary super- vision; and that meth- ods of vocational guidance should be de- veloped in order to help the individual to find the work suited to his or her capacity, strength or taste. As many diseases from which workers suf- fer are due to the con- ditions under which they labor, physicians should work to have every means taken to inves- tigate further these con- ditions and to remove those which are respon- so much the little tri- diene iees umph he seeks as, un- consciously, to test his own progress. Play is, for the child of every age, a means of self-expression. Constructive, productive work is a means of self-expression. In the last analysis play and work seem to mean about the same thing. At times we all look back on our school years and run over mentally the long cur- riculum and have a little laugh over the things we have forgotten. As far as I know now, when Cesar had divided Gaul into three parts he took a long vacation, or went on strike maybe. I took Latin because it was compulsory; I worked at it because I wanted a good mark, not because I was interested either in Cesar or his language. The International Conference of Women Physicians summed up several weeks’ work in a few brief recommendations. The dele- gates from the women’s organizations in the United States formed a codperative body which they called “The Women’s Founda- tion for Social Health,” to carry out these recommendations. The membership numbers Dr. Marie Feyler Switzerland sible for ill health. Again, ill health being responsible for a large proportion of destitu- tion, all workers should be insured against accident and sickness. Definite Sex Instruction Desirable EFINITE sex instruction, it was de- clared, should be given in all normal schools, training schools, medical colleges and universities in order that future parents and teachers may be enabled to handle the subject wisely as it comes up in the home and in the teaching of their own subjects, and while waiting for this trained leadership it is neces- sary to continue sex education with the means now at our disposal, and in all social groups. As mental health is fully as important as physical health, the conference pledged its support to a movement to make all schools and colleges responsive to the emotional and instinctive, as well as the intellectual, needs of children and young people, to the end that education may become an instrument for teaching the best social adjustments possible. April, de dis

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April, 1920 HOME JOURNAL 4, With Armour’s Kezdeae” co Fruits on hand, a delicious shortcake is possible at all seasons, Use an Armour shortening. bkerébedé: Peas— always in the House- wife’s Choosing List. “Simon Pure” Leaf Lard or Vegetole, an All Vegetable Shortening. Either will satisfy, It’s So Easy to Be Sure Pood quality, variety and convenience are always ng Beh ang we epaie hie identified by the Armour Oval Label. It is a mark of PE Be aol dependability—a safe buying guide to many standard cooking ingre- beatable ee dients and scores of novel ready-to-serve foods. Keep a supply of Armour Oval Label Foods in your pantry. They will save you time in cooking—suggest pleasing varia- tions in the daily menus— provide against unexpected emergencies. If your dealer isn’t carrying them, ask him to ‘phone the nearest Armour Branch House. The Oval Label takes the guess-work out of buying — makes cook- ing certain — pleases every family taste. For menus, recipes, bet- ter housekeeping sug- gestions, write Mrs, Jean Prescott Adams, Department of Food Economics, Armour and Company,Chicago, The table butter of high quality — ‘oaley-Ushina.. Armour’s Grape Juice, made from pure juice of ripe grapes—the drink for ALL occasions. Try it chilled for the breakfast fruit course. ols G —~ fra le

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nT rn a gree a eee bt scala is only the substance, Yeast is the soul of Bread. For it is Yeast that converts the flour of wheat into Bread as you know it—the sweetest, most wholesome and most delicious of all foods. Without Yeast, Bread would be only dough —a lifeless, indigestible mass. It is only by aid of the action of Yeast that you are able to have Bread—and what would life be without it? Yet strangely enough, though everyone knows Bread, few people know the history of Yeast, or even what it is. Yeast is a plant of cell form, so tiny that it cannot be seen by the naked eye. ' It takes millions of Yeast cells to raise just one light, porous, fragrant loaf of Bread. Yet despite its infinitesimal size, Yeast is possessed of infinite energy—a rich wealth of nutrition in itself and also the power to de- velop the latent nutrition of flour—a nutri- tion so vast that nations depend upon it for health and energy. Delicate as an orchid, and requiring the most skilled tender handling, the Yeast plant develops rapidly under ideal conditions. “The Soul of Bread The Fleischmann Company supplies these con- ditions; through laboratory processes bringing to the priceless cell the elements of sunshine, moisture and warmth needed by any plant for growth, and especially needed to produce Yeast of the purity and strength demanded by the scientific modern baker. From the finest selected materials, a water extract is made to produce food for the price- less growing cell. Later it is separated from the liquid, pressed into cakes, cut and wrap- ped—ready to deliver. It takes eleven great factories and a highly perfected distributing system throughout the country to make and deliver the nation’s sup- ply of Compressed Yeast, fresh every day. Over 30,000 bakers depend on Fleisch- mann’s Yeast —the kind you know so well— to help them bake Bread light and delicious enough to satisfy your desires. When you enjoy your next slice of Bread, remember that the tiny Yeast-plant is to thank for this best of all Foods that keeps you nour- ished and cuts down your High Cost of Living. Order an extra loaf today. THE FLEISCHMANN COMPANY In All Cities Sn ee erecta LOCATE EAGER A EOE I Ge EE es April, 1920 Ap

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April, 1920 HOME JOURNAL Jz as \& ae | = Miss McC— Makes $5 to $10 Extra as She Wants It Over $115 Extra Was Made by This Business Girl Member vad % g L r A Busy House- Keeper, Mrs. D— Earned a Check Her First Month Over $25 Has Helen Martha P—Made for Herself 7 Tr M. C. is One of Our“ Little Girls” Who are Mak- ing $2 to $200 Church Workers Like Mrs. B— Make Many Dol- lars for Good Causes OU know how true it is that “an ounce of proof is worth a pound of hearsay.” That’s why I want you to see some of the members of our Girls’ Club, the Home JouRNAL’s money-making department for its readers, through which thousands of readers do, and any reader can, make extra dollars in odds and ends of spare time. Study the alert, interesting faces in these little photographs then. See what “nice folks” they are! That young teacher adds five to fifteen dol- lars to her salary every month, easily, steadily, through The Girls’ Club. So many teachers belong to our Club, and make just the extra money they need to fill the chinks in their purses occasioned by the purchase of concert and theater tickets, and books, and silk stock- ings, and filmy blouses; or for a long “‘save up” toward a summer-school course or won- derful vacation trip. More Than Half of Us are Married UCH money is made each month in the Club by the dainty home woman who hates to have to ask her husband for every penny. How well we can understand her feel- ings! Especially is it hard for a wife who be- fore marriage was a business girl and who now has to explain to another, however generous, the whys and wherefores of every dollar. And it’s unnecessary! For through our Club any wife can make a very generous allowance for herself in the spare time she can give to it. No “What’s the matter with your old hat?” sort of questions are asked when she wants to spend her own Club earnings for a spring bon- net! Club dollars she can spend as she pleases, for lingerie, or church, or kitchen linoleum. Hundreds of wives do belong to our Club. Often the reason for joining, however, is to. lend a helping hand with ousehold expenses, insurance and other practical worries. When- ever a gi1l or woman, m«rried or single, is hav- ing a financial struggle, The Girls’ Club is a friend indeed. Club doilars can be spent, you know, even for such practical things as gas bills, children’s shoes and aluminum sauce- pans. And mothers of little folks take par- ticular joy in buying pretty clothes for them. “Twenty Thousand Members” HEN, there are our business girl mem- bers. Many of them add half again as much, sometimes double their salaries, by giv- ing a Saturday afternoon, an evening now and then, to making money in The Girls’ Club. Our work is so different from their office tasks, they enjoy it! Our bright little schoolgirl members no longer have to ask mother or father for every penny they need for class dues, clothes, jolly “‘treats’” with the other girls and pretty clothes. Indeed, most of us are making ‘“‘spring-clothes money’”’ in plenty right now, for crisp little silk dresses for church, new hats, attractive little suits. Speaking of churchgoing, our senior members who are interested in church work can, through their Club money-makings, give as generously as they wish to the organ fund, to the missions or to any plan dear to the heart of the Aid or other church society to which they belong. Do Join Us Now OU also may join our Club, and you also may make money with us. Why don’t you? There are no dues, no expenses of any kind. You can in this way make extra dollars whenever and wherever you can give the time to it—that’s why schoolgirls and teachers and business girls, mothers and grandmothers can all meet with success. “In all I have paid for two sets of books for my babes at $29.50 and $6, besides buying a perfectly beautiful dress for myself and having a nice little deposit left besides. Please accept my sincere thanks,” writes Mrs.R.S. K. “Yes, money means something when one spends fifteen to twenty dollars a month on a little sick child,” writes another mother member. “I tore my evening dress beyond redemption and, as you know, they cost money, so I am glad to be earning this much in The Girls’ Club again,” says a little libra- rian member. The letters are typical. Write me and let me tell you all about it. Just say you want to learn how we make our money, and how you can join us if you care to. You will surely receive a prompt and interesting and I think surprising reply, if you address that letter TO-DAY to the oy Whe Leila’ Aol. THE Lapres’ HoME JOURNAL PHILADELPHIA, PENNSYLVANIA Here’s a Way You Can Make Extra Money For Spring Clothes or for Anything You Choose = r 75 G/ yd An Extra $80 Has Mrs. S— Made in Spare Minutes! The Younger Members Enjoy Their “New- Clothes Money” Teachers Like Miss A— Make Their Hundreds After School Doctors’ Bills Over $100 Were Paid by This Ala- bama Member Marjorie Has Made $20 for Spending Money of Her Own Dear Mrs. J—, Who Writes “T’ll Soon be 70,” Makes Money With Us Too Two-Minute Oat Food An Instant Hot Oat Dish Already 3-Hour Cooked Free A Trial Breakfast Send Coupon For the Man Who likes oatmeal and needs it. Yet breakfast must be hurried. Here is the finest oat dish ever tasted, and it’s ready before the coffee. For the Boy Who needs oats—the supreme food. Now no day need start without them. And now they are doubly delicious. Oatmeal Without Waiting Hot—Super-Cooked At last we've solved the problem of a ready-cooked oat food. We cook it three hours by live steam under pressure at higher than boiling heat. We cook it as no home can cook it—so it easily digests. Then we evaporate it. That’s the secret. In this dry, condensed form all the flavory freshness keeps. x kk kk * You simply stir it in boiling water. Within two minutes it absorbs the water. One cup swells to five cups of delicious oatmeal. You serve it steaming hot —super-cooked—in half the time it takes to boil eggs. And it is just as fresh, just as flavory as the moment it came from our cooker. A Flavor That Delights Two-Minute Oat Food, in addition, has a new, exquisite flavor. This comes from the high-heat cooking. Never was the oat dish made so enticing. * * * * € So it means a quick oat- meal, cooked as it should be. It means that oats—the food of foods—can be served for hurried breakfasts. Itmeans that this vim-food —the food for growth—need never be omitted. And it means a new de- light in oatmeal. You have waited years for such a dish. Start now to enjoy it. Two-Minute Oat Food is entirely new in form and flavor. The product is con- trolled by patent exclusively by The Quaker Oats Com- pany, as is the process. The Quaker Oats @mpany Breakfast With Us Mail this coupon for a six- dish package. See now what it means to you. Your grocer has the regular packages. Cut out the coupon, else you may forget. 3301 6-Dish Package Free The Quaker Oats Company 1739 Railway Exchange, Chicago, Ill. Mail me a 6-Dish Package of Two- Minute Oat Food free.

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best art-craft productions of the early i & 18th Century masters. If your silver plate is Alvin, you | are assured of a harmoniously and | correctly dressed table. Alvin patterns are designed by Every piece—spoon, fork or knife—becomes a precious possession because wrought with the same care that distinguished the work of the master craftsmen in the authorities. 17th and 18th centuries. A MIN LV ER- he Leng-Leh Plate As for intrinsic value, Alvin has also proven its leadership. In a test made by H. G. Torrey, for thirty-seven years Chief Assayer of the United States Government Assay Office, it was found that out of four- teen different leading makes of silver plated

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April, 1920

Daily Life in the Diplomatic Corps (CONTINUED FROM PAGE 37) them, to read with them. It can be imagined how Queen Louise, with this depth of family feeling, suffered when in almost the twinkling of an eye her husband fell dead. He had a habit of going for a walk in the evening, often alone. As his heart was affected, the queen dreaded these walks; and when they parted in the hotel at Hamburg at tea some time after dinner, she was glad to see that he seemed too tired to walk. This was so well understood that his chamberlain, doctor and valet all went off for the night. They heard of the king’s death only when his body, which was treated as that of an unknown stranger, was “reported” from the morgue; he had been identified by the royal arms on his watch. No greater misfortune could have hap- pened to the queen than this. For royalty is isolated and can have practically no friends outside of the family circle. A Princess Who Hated Snobbishness | yd while Queen Louise must always stand apart from intimacies with her people, the rank of the diplomatic ladies gave them a peculiar position. At these private audiences she could open her heart to those in whose sincerity she believed and who had been long enough in her country not to mis- understand her. I have always felt that her confidence and courtesy were caused by the affection and admiration which I felt for her ladies in waiting, Mademoiselles de Wimpfiden and Wedel-Hainan, who, I think, must have re- turned some of my feeling; and to a speech which the present king, her son, once made and which was repeated to me. ‘As for Mrs. Egan,” he said, ‘‘she is a good Amer- ican mother.” He had praised the grace and beauty of other ladies, but I think the queen liked this best! The princess of whom I saw most was the Princess Margaret, of Denmark, who lived in the Yellow Palace, almost next door to our legation. Her mother, the Princess Marie, had died when she was very young and she and her brother Viggo seemed very near to us. The Princess Marie, a daughter of the Duc de Chartres, who served with his brother of Orleans on General McClellan’s staff in the Civil War, wa$ most sympathetic with everything American. She liked us to drop in informally; her sitting room was always a great bower of flowering potted plants—lilacs, white and purple, red azaleas, rhododendrons and roses in season. One could scarcely move for flowers. Here she would sit and chat about everything that interested her at the mo- ment, although in public she was very shy— that is, at formal assemblies. She hated snobbishness. On one occasion at a court ball, when a rather petulant member of the Danish aristocracy refused to dance in .the Frangaise opposite to the wife of the court jeweler, the princess at once took her place! Even a Prince Can Grieve ‘ton grief of Prince Valdemar on the death of his wife was deeply touching. He said: “When I was a young sailor I used to look up at the sky and pray that I might have a good wife; and God gave her to me.” After her death he always kept near him a miniature of her made by Quistguard. ‘‘ There was never a day on which we did not speak of the fu- ture of the children and plan for them. Who will have the same interest in them now?” He was less isolated than the other princes. He had been a sailor nearly all his life, and had that sympathy and interest in all other sailors peculiar to seafaring men. But there was an amusing side to this; if one praised a sailorman he knew, his face would brighten up and he would be sure to say: ‘Ah, yes, he is a fine chap; he was in the navy once!” This was told me by my husband, who en- joyed long conversations with Prince Valde- mar. “I think,” my husband added, “that Prince Valdemar’s only objection to me is that I have never been a sailor; but then the fact that I am an American makes up for that!” The Princess Margaret is now in her twenties, the only princess in Europe who has ever taken a university course; the uni- versity is coeducational and Princess Mar-. garet joined with the students and held her own. She was brought up in the simplest way as long as the Princess Marie lived, and Prince Valdemar could not change this. She is a special favorite with the Dowager Queen of England, Alexandra, and her Aunt Mimi, the Dowager Empress of Russia. Prince Viggo, her brother, liked coming to tea, and his father accused him of preferring our house to the palace because he was bet- terfed! He excused this speech of his father’s on the plea of jealousy! The real attraction for him was the group of young American attachés, proverbially the nicest lads in Den- mark, who came over from America to make our legation a second home. Hot Corn Bread at Afternoon Teas Fe us tea was probably the pleasantest hour of the day; it was brought in at four o’clock. Even if the men in the chancellery were very busy they could always steal half an hour to come to pay their respects to the “cheffesse,” as the hostess of the legation was always called in diplomatic parlance. Each “‘cheffesse” chose a special day for see- ing people who wanted to make their dinner calls, to meet the representatives of the other legations and to receive such of my compatriots who, passing through Copen- hagen, did me the honor to call. Nothing could be more agreeable than these meetings. Everybody was on equal ground, and the difficulties of precedence disappeared. A conversation in English would begin, and then suddenly a French wave would sweep across the drawing-room. As nearly everybody dined at eight o’clock or a quarter after, “the tea” meant a very substantial meal, especially for the English. To have offered merely petits fours, bonbons and ices, as is done in Washington, would have made these afternoon functions at our legation very unpopular; and even little sandwiches of lettuce would not have saved the day! Everybody expected several cups of the beverage that cheers, accompanied by honest slices of bread and ‘butter, and, if a hot biscuit or scone were added, so much the better! Madame de Hegermann-Lindenstronen, who is an American and who in earlier days had charmed the court of the Tuileries with her singing, gave a special flavor to her teas by offering hot corn bread. It was her spe- cialty, and nobody else infringed on it. Her drawing-room was really the salon of Cepen- hagen. She was musical; she was artistic; she knew the world of "society; she was witty and, while very hospitable, careful in the selection of her guests. United States Day at the Legation EFORE this year (1919), too, she was very happy, as her husband the cham- berlain, who had retired from the Danish Legation, was still alive and one of the most amiable and sympathetic of men. He had been at one time Minister to the United States. My husband, who had been a stu- dent in Washington in 1874 and who went much into society, had much to say to the chamberlain. He often said that of all the diplomatists who had been contemporary with the Chamberlain de Hegermann in Washington, there was nobody now living, except perhaps one of the Romeros. All the famous American beauties mentioned by De Hegermann,except one or two, had gone. Like roses, they had flourished and faded away. On my day at the legation there was al- ways certain to be a crowd, although I could not offer any of the brilliancy of Madame de Hegermann; but the Countess de Szechenyi, the most beautiful woman in Europe, was there very often. She is a Belgian, related to that Princess de Croy who was sentenced to imprisonment for ten years by the Germans. This was, of course, before we went into the war, as Countess Szechenyi was the wife of the Austro-Hungarian Minister, who was never pro-Teutonic and not at all a favorite with the pan-German party. I was also assisted by two very charming American women. Mrs. Magruder, the wife of the first secretary, and Mrs. Totten, the wife of the military attaché, together with the two cele- brated beauties of the English Legation, Mrs. Gurny and Mrs. Wade, made our receptions very attractive. Politics were often talked by the men at these assembiies, but they generally spoke in French, and the sofa which I occupied—in Northern Europe the sofa is the seat of honor—was never approached by politicians. On my right, perhaps, one of the ladies in waiting would find a-seat. If it happened to CONTINUED ON PAGE 78

April . IR

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April, 1920 HOME JOURNAL What G. Washington’s Coffee is It is the original and only refined coffee. It is refined from the best coffee money will buy. It is all the coffee in the coffee berry that is good to use. It is 100 per cent pure coffee. It dissolves instantly in hot or cold water. It is healthful, delicious. It is easiest to make. It is economical—a pound of G. Washington’s Coffee will make as many cups of coffee as ten pounds of coffee roasted in the berry. It is always the same in quality ETAT CONAN DWH 3 © oO It is sold in convenient size air-tight cans. What G. Washington’s Coffee is not It is not an imitation. It-is not expensive. It is not de-naturized—not de-caffeinized—or de-anythinged. It is not wasteful. It is not 85 per cent chaff, woody fibre, or grounds. It is not harmful. It is not necessary to “‘cook’’—no coffee pot or percolator needed. It is not just ‘another brand”’ of coffee. COnNA UB Wh — For sale at grocers, delicatessens, and drug stores. Served at good fountains. Send 10c for trial size. Recipe Booklet Free G. Washington Sales Co., Inc., 334 Fifth Avenue, New York Mash COFFEE ORIGINATED BY MR.WASHINGTON IN 190¢ STR a OE

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HOME JOURNAL April, 1920 > raagties aaiage aa Na Done bowels A Perfectly“Natural” Corset, Yet the Glass of Fashion Itself Natural because they have a flexibility that makes them different from all other corsets— that lends every aid to the subconscious grace and freedom of motion that is the essence of womanly charm. rN y ’ Vy y — NuBone Corsets are different because they are made to your measure and fitted in your home by NuBone trained corsetiéres. They fit with almost the snugness and comfort of the skin itself, yet give full support to even the stoutest figure. We guarantee this. It’s Really the NuBone Stay that makes NuBone Comfort NuBone Corsets do not rely solely upon perfect fit and style for the supreme comfortand splen- did appearance that have made them so justly famous. The great secret of NuBone supe- Five riority and comfort is the woven wire NuBone strand. ° P » ve pt Stay — the only woven wire stay in existence. woven to make the NuBone fy The NuBone Stay bends edgewise as easily as flatwise and conforms readily to any posture of the body, however distorted, without strain or discom- fort—it has the ability to stretch and shorten, which takes up the end thrust— preventing excessive wear at the ends of the Stays. WV Ny ee — = ; —= - . - - — ~— ¢ = \ a ss =. 3 —_ a V id & NNO YT’) Wu NuBone Corsets are.guaranteed — if a NuBone Stay rusts or breaks within a year the old corset is replaced by a new one, free of charge. Phone the local “NuBone Corsetiére” for an appoint- ment. She will show you the materials, the famous NuBone Stay, the models and quote you prices. Judge the NuBone Corset for yourself — it entails not the slightest obligation to buy. We will gladly send you, free, an in- teresting little book on corsetry and styles. It contains many valuable suggestions on the development and improvement of the figure, besides clearly explaining and illustrating the superior qualities of NuBone Corsets —address Dept. A. Bends edgewise as freely as flatwise. THE NUBONE CORSET CO., CORRY, PENNSYLVANIA Factories: Corry, Pa.; Erie, Pa.; Los Angeles, Cal. AUSTRALIA ENGLAND SOUTH AFRICA L. L. Lucas & Co, Madame Le Deil E. S. Howard & Co, Melbourne N. W. London Johannesburg hh 7A Daily Life in the Diplomatic Corps (CONTINUED FROM PAGE 76) be Mademoisellé de Wedel-Hainan, who spoke English perfectly, all the younger peo- ple would cluster about her. It was always very pleasant when the two Princesses Thyra and Dagmar came with their father, who, however, kept a very strict eye on them. His Majesty had a prejudice against eat- ing much between meals. One day my sec- ond daughter whispered to me: “Princess Dagmar asks you if you will make father keep the king in close conversation so that I can give her two more of these American cakes!” These princesses, both older than the Princess Margaret and nearer to the throne, were more formal and much more ignorant of the ways of the world, although later Princess Thyra showed a knowledge of political occurrences and a wisdom in judg- ing national affairs which, I am told, were remarkable. Princesses Speeding in a Motor Car Ste dutifully attended her mother, Queen Louise, in a stately drive in a victoria every afternoon. Neither King Frederick nor Queen Louise ever drove in motor cars; but after Princess Margaret’s return from Eng- land, where she had been doing Red Cross work with one of her royal aunts, she im- ported a small car which she drove herself. She enticed Princess Thyra for a whirl along the Strandway and insisted on stopping at a little inn for coffee. Princess Margaret was delighted at the horrified face of her cousin when she paid the proprietor the ordinary amount for such a refection. It was terribly unusual for a princess to dash about in a motor car, but too shocking not to pay the waiter a preposterously large price worthy of a princess! Princess Margaret was willing to give an extra tip, but to pay only the mar- ket price. I don’t think she was ever per- mitted to repeat this “escapade”; but the Danes enjoyed it. very much. “She is so like her mother!” they said. One of the compensations for the formal- ity of diplomatic life during “‘the season” was that everything went so easily, and an- other was the number of agreeable Amer- icans who came to the legation with letters of introduction. It was always a pleasure to entertain them, and my only regret is that too many who did not happen to have letters refrained from calling, because they were afraid of troubling us. It was always easy to arrange a luncheon or a dinner to suit their tastes; and, if there was not time for that, the right people could always be asked to tea to meet them, and a group formed in which they would be perfectly happy. I recall a very charming family from Kentucky who had become rather home- sick when they reached Copenhagen. They had not called at any of the embassies or legations in the capitals they visited, but, in desperation, the husband came to see Mr. Egan one morning. My husband asked what he might do for him, to which he re- plied: ‘The only thing you can’t do! My wife is dying to meet some Kentuckians, some Louisville people; we have been three months in Europe without mecting any.” “Perhaps you will bring your wife and daughters to-morrow at four,” my husband said. On the next day these homesick trav- elers were made happy; they found in the drawing-room of the legation the Viscomtesse de Faramond, the Baroness de Schilling, and Mrs. Stein—all from Louisville! American Visitors Pleased by Attention T WAS always pleasant and often surpris- ing to discover how pleased American vis- itors were with any attention that could be shown them, and how desirous they were of showing their sense of the value of the courtesies that the legation was able to offer them. The institution of the “tea” gave great opportunities for introducing people to one another, and several warm friendships were begun at our house between amiable foreigners and charming Americans who otherwise might not have met. Perhaps nowhere so much as in the diplo- matic life is it so necessary to have scrupu- lously trained servants. A lost card or a forgotten message may lead to all kinds of embarrassments. One might overlook some defects in a footman, but never that of mislay- ing cards or of not making a note of anybody who had called, with his address. Sometimes Americans would leave their names without an address, and then feel offended because their cards or their calls were not returned. English people or other Europeans were never guilty of this carelessness. There were times when our invaluable Hans was kept busy for an hour telephoning to the various hotels, to discover where people who had left cards really lived, only to find out that they were apparently nowhere. Sometimes it turned out that they had gone a short dis- tance out of town, and waited there until some notice should be taken by my husband or myself of their call! However, with some patience one could convince these people that it did not pay to be casual, since it gave everyone such unnecessary trouble. Being Late Was Inexcusable OME very kind visitors thought nothing of coming in the morning and did not hesitate to say, when the footman told them that I was never at home before four o’clock in the afternoon, that in the United States they were in the habit of calling at any time. But such carelessness was uncommon. A more common occurrence was that of some of our visitors of giving themselves a quarter of an hour beyond the time announced in my invitation for lunch or dinner. They seemed rather surprised to find all the other guests waiting for them in the drawing-room. There were other legations where no waiting was ever done for any guest unless he or she were very old or very distinguished, and where no guests who were late once were invited a second time. There was an old diplomatist in Copen- hagen who roared out, when one of his secre- taries arrived ten minutes late: ‘ You idiot! You should have telephoned from your hotel that you were dying and could not come! The only excuse a young man can offer for a gaucherie like this is to be dead!” Nobody present corroborated the senti- ment of the old gentleman, but everybody felt that his opinion was quite correct. Having lived last winter in New York, I can understand why my compatriots think nothing of being a quarter of an hour late for dinner. Locomotion is not easy, dis- tances are very great, and people do not live close to one another, as they do in the cap- itals of Europe. In Copenhagen, for exam- ple, people in society tried to live as near as possible to the palace of the Ammalieborg, in the Amaliegade. This is the most old- fashioned and the most exclusive part of the town and near to everything worth while. It was only a step to the Royal Opera House, and it was never possible to be a second late for any royal function. To be late at such a time was considered in diplomatic circles a crime that could never be expiated! The Danes are Very Musical HE Danes are a very musical people, and as I could not vie—and it would have been very bad taste to have attempted it— with the cotillions and the very splendid bridge suppers of some of our colleagues, I tried the thé dansant from three to seven, when the British or Russian officers from the Royal yacht, Albert and Victoria, or the Im- perial yacht, the Polar Star, were in Copen- hagen, and, afterward, concerts once a month in the afternoon. Everybody was glad to come to hear the famous tenor Cornelius, who had made a great success in Wagnerian réles at Covent Garden, but he always sang in Danish. After the concert there were always refreshments and conversation for those people who were bored by music. During “the season,” which lasted from the first of January until the middle of Holy Week, there was little time for reading or study except duririg the hours in the after- noon from half past two until four. As I was my own secretary, the mornings were rather fully occupied. Nearly every day people came to luncheon, and eight o’clock was nearly always certain to find us dining formally with guests in our own house or “doing” dinners or bridge suppers in the houses of our colleagues. In the winter one always had to visit the picture galleries before half past three o’clock in the afternoon, as about that time twilight begins to fall. In the summer there were the meetings at the tenris ground, each chef- fesse taking her day; but even then there were many social duties to be performed be- cause of the pleasant visits from Americans on their way north or south. But every now and then the strain was relaxed, and often one could do just as one pleased.

Page 83

PAINTED EXPRESSLY FOR VIVAUDOU, BY FRED L. PACKER j LON IC JUJURIN AL sn ICV ARVs AN male NEW YORK J The delicate fresfiness of Mavis 15 like the breath of an April day— for both are fra— grant heralds of the Towers of Spring Send 15c to Vivaudou, Times Building, New York, for a generous sample of Mavis Perfume

Page 84

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Clean, Sweet Raisins From a glass-walled, sunlight plant Every housewife wants this kind

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facts in mind: Sun-Maid Raisins,which cost no more than others, are made from the finest varieties of Cal- ifornia grapes — famous for their lusciousness. These grapes are served fresh in preference to others on most California tables. But the very delicate structure that makes them so delicious prevents their being shipped to distant points. You may never eat them as fresh grapes, but you can have them as fresh raisins. Clean, Sweet, Wholesome \ N JHEN you buy raisins for home cooking keep these I ee ee ee ee HUOONUOEOMAUEUTIOAAUEESAADOARAOADODANAH UCU OU TEA ANT EE AAA TEA AA HHHHNHT AA T AA HUA NA T AO EAA NALA UREA AEE ONT AEANENT \/

The great glass- walled plant at Fresno, California, where Sun-Maid Raisins are placed in sanitary packages

CALIFORNip SEEDED MUSCaT AISINS Sun-Maid Seeded Raisins (seeds removed), in the blue package, are excellent for all home cook- ing purposes Ask your dealer for them

stantly flooded with California sunshine through great / I ‘HEY are packed in an immaculate new plant, con- All seeded raisins are sterilized. So these raisins come to you ready to go straight into your foods. Ea ESD They are 75 per cent pure fruit-sugar—concentrated nu- triment in practically pre-digested form—so they are in themselves an energizing food. \/ \/

walls of glass. California ‘‘sum maids’’ in spotless Sun-Maid Seedless Raisins uniforms wrap the seeded raisins in waxed paper. (grown without seeds) in red packages

Put them on the children’s cookies

P Use them with boiled rice, in puddings, cakes, breakfast y foods, cookies, pies, rolls and other breads. See how these ‘ raisins make the plainer foods rise to a higher plane. > Send for ‘‘Sun-Maid Recipes,’ a valuable free book con- P taining 100 excellent suggestions for their use. » t 2 7 \/ 7 4

: Three varieties: Sun-Maip SEEDED (seeds removed); = Sun-Maip SEEDLEss (grown without seeds); Sun-Matp =$ ~ = CLusTERs (0% the stem). =, = =r = = —- =4 Ft | = = | Raisin Cornmeal Muffins Sun-Maid Raisins with Sliced Oranges t= || if cup cornmeal Wash Sun-Maid Seedless Raisins, soften slightly EV} 2 tennmenrealt and combine them with an equal bulk of thinly Si i cup SUN-MAID Seedless Raisins sliced sweet oranges, using no sugar. This makes = 1 | teaspoons baking powder an excellent fruit dish for breakfast. — | tablespoons sugar = up milk = Fresno, California = = Ask for Raisin Candy—Delicious, Healthful and Nutritious OSS ON FS rer rt er arterial Net Nein nd WM KK RK RAKR KARZ RAR KR KR XA KRAAZAA a a a a SS AMM HOVOMGOVONNNNEOOPPOUUOOOOONNAOONOOCOUOUOOOAEOUUOUUAGUROEOODOUOOONAUOUOOUEGUOUUGOUASHONOOUOCOTUUOOOANOOOSOCUOEOOOOEEOGOEUOFACOTOTEOOTONOOOTUUOTOOOQGOGNSUOOOOUVOUEGTOOUOVOVSOUTNVTTTEBLESS

SUN-MAID Raisins

Rolled Oats with Raisins 1 cup rolled oats 1 teaspoon salt 3 cups boiling water 1 cup SUN-MAID Raisins Add rolled oats to the boiling water. Let boil for about ten minutes, stirring frequently; then add the raisins and cook ten or fifteen minutes longer. If a fireless cooker is used, simply let the rolled oats boil for ten minutes, add the raisins and place in the cooker over night.

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April, 1920 HOME JOURNAL

My Play Room for Children

EJUST must have more income, or else ” My sister swept her eyessuggestively over our shab- bily pleasant old living room. Being a_book- keeper, she had been going over our ac- counts while I, a mere home-keeper, sat by anxiously to learn the worst. Our mother had gone to her room for the night. Well I knew what my sister’s compre- hensive glance around our beloved room meant. She was thinking that we would have to give it up and break up our home. Mother’s small income, helped out by sister’s salary as a bookkeeper, would no.longer keep ahead of our expenses. “Couldn’t I ” my voice trailed off tentatively. “No, I don’t think you could,’ inter- rupted my sister thoughtfully. ‘In the first place, you are not technically trained for business life. You have your music and you have kept things going here at home. In the next place, even if you were trained, mother is not well enough to be left alone all day. We must try to think of something to help out without that.” The old home meant more to mother than anything else on earth except her two daugh- ters. We knew that she would make no ob- jection to breaking up the home if it were necessary, but to take her away from the dear and familiar surroundings would be a wrench she was not fitted to withstand.

I Think Myself Into an Income SIDE from giving a few music lessons to beginning children, I had never added anything to our income. I had done this more because I loved to have the children about than because I was especially gifted as a teacher of music. Children were a joy to me and I always found them interesting. My part in our life had been that of home maker for a number of years. Mother and I made many of our clothes, and mother kept us beautifully mended. So things had gone on with us very well until the price of every needful commodity began its upward journey and it began to be borne in upon us that something drastic would have to be done in the way of re- trenchment or of increasing our income. By giving up the house and taking a small apartment in a cheaper neighborhood, we could manage to cover with our monthly income our monthly outgo. But, for mother’s sake and for the sake of our own comfort as well, we wanted if possible to avoid that. It isn’t easy to think yourself into an in- come, but it is true that out of our need the idea was born which was the means of saving our home by adding an amount to our monthly budget that makes the difference between penury and plenty. As the great people of earth are simple and unimposing in manner, so our great idea was the simple one of filling a commonplace want. We Decide to Cater to Mothers E DECIDED to create a guest or play room where mothers could leave their children for one or more afternoons five days a week: “A place to stay and have a play when mother has to go away.” We would cater to the mothers who take the entire care of their children, being unable to afford a nurse, yet who are well able to pay for such a service as we offered. Practically the only nurseries in existence are charitable institutions which are estab- lished in or near the slums for working mothers. This does not help the mothers of the middle class, who usually live in apart- ments, do much of their own housework and take care of their children personally. Those who live far from relatives or friends are unable to get an hour or so away from their little ones in which to go shopping or enjoy =

By Mabel Martin some pleasure. mothers. Our house was well arranged for my pur- pose. On the first floor were the living room, large dining room and small break- fast room. Mother’s comfortable room, half bedroom and half sitting room, was on the second floor, as were also a hall bedroom and a large back bedroom. On the third floor were three bedrooms. Our dining room had a fireplace and looked out from wide windows in the back over our pleasant yard. This was somewhat more extensive than many city yards and boasted two real trees and sunshine. We decided to clear out the dining room entirely and we stored our old-fashioned dining-room fur- niture in the basement. This was no hard- ship for us, since we had for several years used the small and more intimate breakfast room for most of our meals. I intended to reach these Prepare Before You Begin ROUND three sides of the room we had a carpenter build a low, wide seat, top- hinged in sections. These sections corre- sponded with the partitions fitted beneath, making a series of boxes about three or four feet long and the width of the seat. The boxes were the abiding places of all sorts of play- things. On the remaining side of the room, flank- ing the fireplace, were built low shelves for books and dishes. Above them were cup- boards for kindergarten materials of all kinds. I also put into the cupboards certain story books, special toys for unusual occasions, and little prizes and surprises that I planned to make useful. The cupboards were a mys- terious realm from the depths of which almost any delightful treat might appear. We had the carpenter make a number of low, easily handled tables and some little benches of convenient size. These, as well as the seat around the room, were painted cream and stenciled in blue. The addition of two “Sleepy Hollow” armchairs and several small comfortable chairs for children com- pleted my furnishings. I piled cushions of various shapes and sizes on the seat around the room. These were covered with remnants of bright cretonnes having animal and Mother Goose figures. On the floor we put blue rag rugs with charming borders of animals woven in blue on a yellow background. The Back Yard is a Business Asset WAS proud of the frieze which I concocted for the wall just above the seat running around the room. It was nothing more than white canvas, which I stenciled in all sorts of designs that I thought would interest and delight the children. This was put up with a molding. Just above it, with the aid of thumb tacks and drawing-board mats, I manufactured a wonderful picture gallery. For years I had taken the charming pictures from the magazines that make a specialty of printing them, and I selected from this col- lection those which would be interesting and often instructive in their appeal to the children. After the play room was ready I turned my attention to our back yard, for I intended that my little guests should spend many hours outdoors on sunny afternoons. I had a big sand box built and filled with the best sand obtainable. At one side of the yard we placed a long, low table, with benches of convenient size. In one corner were two magnificent playhouses, being large-sized dry-goods boxes “furnished” with a few odds and ends. I stained the boxes and the table and benches a dark green. Several swings of different kinds completed a most attractive play yard. When I was ready for my guests the only advertising I did, aside from that furnished by friends who had followed my preparations with interest and were enthusiastic over my play room, was with a printed card, stating that I wished to care for children afternoons and setting forth my rates. I am convinced that much of my success was due to making these rates as reasonable as I could and still get an adequate return for my time and the

responsibility. I made the charge for the afternoon only fifty cents. The mother brings her child at or after one o’clock and

comes to take the child away before or by six o’clock. It is understood that the children remaining after six shall have a simple but nutritious supper, for which I charge fifty cents. My cards were distributed in the tea rooms near our home and put in the mail boxes of the apartment houses in the neigh- borhood. Such an enterprise advertises it- self, for my pleased customers told their friends about me, and my play room seemed to “fill a long-felt want.” I limit the num- ber of child guests that can be most con- veniently handled to ten or twelve, but I have on such occasions as matinée days entertained fifteen or eighteen in an after- noon. I expected the children to range in age from about three to eight; but I was asked so often to accept baby guests as a favor to their mothers, that we soon came to look upon them as almost a matter of course. Mother loves the tiny ones, and they have come to be her especial charge when she is well. The older children are always vastly interested in the babies and my only diffi- culty has been tactfully to escape overzealous help in their care.

A Place for Children to be Happy HAVE emphasized the fact to my patrons that only children in perfect health as far as regards any little catching ailment are wel- comed as guests. This rule must be made for the protection of the children themselves. I also ask that the children be dressed as simply as possible, so there may be no dan- ger of ruining an expensive garment in play. Mother has an ideal haven in her room whenever she feels disposed to seek it, but she enjoys the children as much as I do; and her wonderful stories are considered a rare treat, especially on winter afternoons when we sit around the cheerful fire that is kept burning on the play-room grate. Since I play the piano, we have music every afternoon, and often give elaborate concerts that are thrillingly interesting to ourselves. We have also added a talking machine with numbers of the records espe- cially prepared for children. I have not found it a burden to entertain my guests and oversee their play. Busy children are good children. And I try to provide interesting occupations and diver- sions for them. They really care for them- selves, with a judicious amount of direction and oversight. My enterprise is in no sense a rival of the kindergarten. I make no pretense of offering a curriculum and I do no teaching, except as the child is always learning—from his play no less than from his study. My play room is merely a safe and pleasant place where chil- dren may be happy in the company of other children, while the mothers fill a few hours with interests outside their homes. No Child Should be Exclusive S FOR discipline, I have little trouble. It is understood that if a child should mis- behave in such manneras tomake real trouble for me, I would refuse to accept that child as a guest again. This is a severe punishment that has never been necessary, for the chil- dren love to come to the play room. Most of them come from families where they are carefully trained. Even when this is not the case, the little folks are on their best be- havior with me. City children long for the companionship that is so often denied them by their mode of life, and they one and all delight in the opportunity to play with other children. My secret in managing them, if I have one, CONTINUED ON PAGE 82 81 How Five Virtues of Tailoring Boys’ Clothes Save Family Money Long-Wearing Features to Look For In the Youngster’s New Suit AT in the world do boys do to their clothes to run them down soin a month or two of ordinary wear? If you have ever talked it over with other mothers you must have found that there is very little difference between boys when it comes to the way they “go through” a suit of clothes. But have you ever taken no- tice of the little dif- ferences in tailoring and reinforcing that make one suit look well and wear well through twice the lifetime of another? Here are five es : points of importance You can feel the double thathavebeenfound </oth with your fingers. to give a boy’s suit extra wear—which means a saving in clothes money during the year. Before you buy look particularly at the seams of the trousers. They should be se- curely taped and the tape double stitched at both edges the entire length of the seam. This is a strengthening feature you will always find in Cortley Jr. Clothes. Notice tootheway g the elbows and knees : 73] are fortified. In Cortley Jr. Clothes the five areas of most constant wear— both elbows, both knees and the seat of the trousers—are given a double thick- ness of cloth. This feature can practi- cally double the use- fulness of the suit. Next the linings. Boys’ trousers should be lined throughout and the best makes always are. The coat lining should be guaranteed mohair as is used in Cortley Jr. Clothes. If you let the boy choose his own suit he will select Cortley Jr. because of the size and arrangement of the pockets. You will agree with his choice when you examine the staved and tacked pocket corners, the double stitching all around the pocket opening, the non-ravel pocket facing and the durability of the pocket material itself. As for buttons, see that they are sewed with plenty of hard-spun linen thread. Extra buttons should come with each suit. for use if the original ones become broken. You will find the Cortley Jr. label on the sleeve— and in the pocket of every Cortley Jr. suit is a money-back guarantee assuring you of entire satisfaction in material, in tailoring and in wear. These clothes are designed and wrought with ab- solute faithfulness of purpose—and that purpose is to make a boy’s suit of highest value and longest wear. Note on the Cortley Jr. sleeve label the 28 points of advan- tage in Cortley Jr. Clothes.

Pocket corners are staved, tacked and multiple- stitched. Cortley 1

Look/for this Cortley Jr label onthe sleeve. Cortley Jr. Clothes Formerly ELK JR Clothes COHEN 6 LANG Style Authors In the City of New York. The coupon printed below will bring your boy a copy of **How to Make Things 1 hat Go,” telling how to construct all sorts of **scooters’’ for land, air and water. Mention the store where his clothes are bought.

COHEN & LANG, 707-709 Broadway, N. Y. You may send without charge a copy of “How to Make Things That Go” to the boy whose name I have written below.

Boy’s Name— Address_— — Town & State ___ . nes Name of Clothier—

Page 86

Se ce ier cctere eet a Se 82 HOME JOURNAL rapelade pure#grape spread HE taste of fresh ripe grapes that everybody likes so well. Their delicacy of flavor, their richness, their health-giving qualities. Grapelade is just that—whole ripe grapes with all their juice and strength, made into a spread that is incomparably smooth and delicious. Seeds and skins are eliminated and the acid crystals re- moved by the patented Welch process— nothing but pure sugar is added. As a spread for bread, toast, biscuit, muffins or griddle cakes, Grapelade brings a new and welcome taste. Chil- dren love it. And it is good for them, just as fresh fruit and sugar are whole- some and nourishing. Order Grapelade from your grocer— in 15 ounce glass jars or 8ounce tumblers. Other Welch Quality pure fruit products are Fruitlade (Grape-Rasp- berry and other combinations with grape), Peachlade, Plumlade, and Cherrilade. All packed in 15 oz. glass jars. ee The Welch Grape Juice Company, Westfield, NY April, 1920 The “Little Flyin’ Fool” (CONTINUED FROM PAGE 29) Through my befogged senses there came a ray—a glare of light. I glanced up and beheld the misty sun, seemingly over- head. Heavens! was I aiming at the sun? I felt colder than ever in spite of my nearness to that dimmed orb. Presently noises in my ears became articulate—formed themselves into words, frenzied, furious, shouted words: ‘Nose ’er down! Nose ’er down! For heaven’s sake, nose ’er down! Nose ’er ——”’ Familiar words! I had often heard Pal use them. I understood fully what they meant. I should stop pointing the radiator cap at the sun and bring it closer to the ground. That was simple enough. I dis- lodged the stick from my chest and shoved it forward, and before my startled eyes my lost mountain came leaping into view. My radiator cap was pointed directly at its peak. I felt a fleeting glow of pride. I was an apt pupil. I_was following instructions to the letter. Possibly, in the future I might even —— But that peak didn’t stay af the end of my radiator cap a second. It went flashing by, up and up, and the whole awkward mountain leaped and Happy Always Drove From the Rear Seat “Tf I nose dive ’er into the lake Bill will never forgive me,” I kept re- peatingdumbly to myself. Again mirac- ulously my brain cleared. I ' listened to the voice of reason from the rear seat: “Pull ’er up!” it was groaning. “Pull ’er up!” I pulled, very gently this time, just dainty little quarters of inches; and then my dear old mountain, my kind old mountain be- came normal again and settled slowly, calmly, thoughtfully back into place—with my radi- ator cap resting, oh, so lovingly and gently, on its top, only a little sideways. “Bring up your right wing,” sighed the voice in my ear, and I did. “ Now the left,” and I did. At last the ship flew along like a bird, completely under control, right side up and everything. It was the proudest yet the most worried moment of my life. Joy riding is as essentially different from piloting as day is from night. “You're doing fine,”’ said Hap; and witha contented sigh I put up both my hands, so he would know I was through. It’s a man’s job, piloting, a big man’s job. Bill scolded me a little (I couldn’t blame him) when he came back, over bounded after it! It was the longest, highest, fastest moun- tain I ever hoped to point at. Down, down, down we went. That blue surface wasn’t the mountains, over the lakes, through the storm of his flight. He had won seventh place out of sixty-eight con- testants. He said I was sky any longer, but lake! a “little flyin’ A Big Handley-Page and a Small Scout Plane fool.’ My Play Room for Children (CONTINUED FROM PAGE 81) is in keeping them occupied and interested. A child who is “making something,” doing constructive work of any sort, is easy to control and pleasant to have about. I usually know in the morning how many children I am to have in the afternoon, as the mothers telephone their intention of bringing the children. I do not go for them or take them home. I soon found that there was a demand from parents for the privilege of leaving their children now and then in the evening. With this in view we fitted up the big back bedroom on the second floor as a children’s dormitory. At first I put in two little beds, with a small dresser and chiffonier. Now I have four beds and my own couch; for when there are children staying with us, I sleep in the room. For this service I make a charge of $1.50 if the child comes after supper, and of $2 if the child is our guest for supper, the night and breakfast. My Week-Ends are Free F THE mother wishes to be away for the day, going early in the morning and coming back at night, the charge is $1.50; this in- cludes the noon meal, the heavy meal of the day for a child. Sometimes parents who live very near wish to go out to dinner and to the theater, calling for the child on the way home. In this case I put the child to bed at the usual time and the parents carry him home wrapped in a blanket. I charge $1.50 for this, with the supper. I do not take children guests on Saturdays, as a rule, nor on Sundays. So I have the two days as a complete rest from my little charges. I fill these days with other interests, and sometimes we go away over the week- end for an entire change so that I may come to my work on Monday fresh and glad to see all my child friends again. I am not so much tied down by my occu- pation as I would be in an office. I can get away from home in the mornings to shop, since we have been able to restore to her place “Mandy,” an old servant, and I can have friends in or read on those evenings when I must be at home. My Idea is Very Adaptable HE mothers who are my patrons and friends are enthusiastic in praise of the service I render. In the city comparatively few young mothers have relatives or friends with whom to leave their little ones. The mother who leaves her child in my play room and goes out two or three times a week for an afternoon’s shopping, a matinée, a concert or a lecture, or to keep a luncheon engage- ment, comes back to her baby a vastly more efficient woman. Fathers also hail me as a benefactor, since almost every man likes to take his wife out once a week to dinner and the theater or an evening with friends. One mother who brings me her boy twice a week for the afternoon, besides going out with her husband on Thursday nights to dinner and some evening’s pleasure, told me that she had never been separated from her little son for an hour since his birth, and that she had come to believe that a mother in her circumstances must give up absolutely every interest in the world aside from her child. Another mother brings her little girl, an only child, because the child is so happy in the companionship of other children. The idea of a play room for children can be adapted and changed to suit almost any set of circumstances. I made thorough prepara- tion for the work, since I intended to take it up as a permanent business and decided that it would not be extravagant to establish my “plant.” I have a friend who lives in a smaller city in an apartment overlooking the park, She makes a definite arrangement with certain mothers to take charge of their chil- dren for one or more afternoons a week. In this way she fills up three of her afternoons. She entertains the children in her living room, or takes them for walks in the park and tells them nature stories. I believe that to the refined and educated woman who loves children the play-room idea offers an occupation and an income. Apri

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April, 1920 HOME JOURNAL 83 Peggy Hull By Jack O’Donnell were ten thousand women in the United States writing or trying to write for the newspapers and magazines, it is pretty safe to assume that close to nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine of them hoped or dreamed of going overseas as accredited war correspondents. One of the ten thousand realized her hope and saw her dream come true. She is Miss Henrietta Goodnough Hull, known to many thousands of readers in the United States and Canada as Peggy Hull. Miss Peggy was the only girl war corre- spondent accredited to the American Expedi- tionary Forces by the War Department. Miss Hull has just returned from Siberia, where she spent ten months with American troops, writing interestingly of conditions in that tortured land without, as she expresses it, “a scratch from the Bolsheviks and without in- volving my editor or my country in anyinternational difficulties.” Before going to Siberia this twenty-six-year- old girl spent many months with the Amer- ican forces in France. When General Pershing went to Europe with his first handfuloftroops, Miss Hull was close on his heels. She arrived in Liverpool just four days after General Pershing. She was in Paris in time to see the first American troops parade on July 4, 1917. A Cordial Welcome From Pershing OON after that “morale-boosting day,” Miss Hull went to Pershing’s headquar- ters to pay her respects to the Commander in Chief. She was ushered into the general’s office by a “none-too-civil” youngster who was chagrined a second later to see the C. in C. arise, take two long strides to the center of the room, stretch forth two wel- coming hands, and say “Well, well, Peggy! You are like a breath from home!” In that welcoming moment General Per- shing’s thoughts probably raced back to a blistering day in 1916 on the Mexican border, when he was returning from the punitive expedition into the Land of Frijoles. In his mind’s eye he probably saw a little girl in a feminine version of a war correspondent’s uniform on a big white horse, a huge bouquet in her arms, coming toward him. The dimin- utive girl was Peggy Hull, bearing greetings from the citizens of El Paso. Miss Hull got her first taste of war cor- responding in 1914 when militia was sent to the California-Mexico border. She was with the militiamen four months, writing “‘space”’ stories for a small paper in California. The second attack of “war corresponding,” as she terms it, hit her in July, 1916, when Cleveland, ‘Ohio, troops were mobilized for border duty. Two weeks after mobilization Miss Hull, representing the Cleveland Plain Dealer, had established headquarters in El Paso. She spent several months on the border making hikes with Regular Army and National Guard outfits. She Overcame Many Obstacles HEN the “big story broke,” when the United States entered into the world war, Miss Hull bombarded editors all over the country with requests to be sent to France as their representative. “‘ No editor would help me to become a real war correspondent,” says Miss Hull; “so I worked advertising stunts in between my war writing in order to finance my trip. Finally I made a deal with the editor of a Texas newspaper which paved the way for me to get over with the vanguard of American doughboys.” Being a girl Miss Hull encountered many obstacles “‘over there.” Some of her fellow craftsmen, even, resented the presence of a girl war correspondent. They complained to army officers, but through the influence and L: IN the exciting days of 1917-18 there Peggy Hull assistance of such big-hearted, broad-minded war writers as Floyd Gibbons, Ring W. Lardner, George Pattullo and Webb Miller, Miss Hull managed to visit all the American camps established in France at that time, and spent two months with the brigade of which General Peyton March was commander. Siberia Aroused Her Interest Next HE illness of her mother made it neces- sary for Miss Hull to return to the United States in July, 1918. When her mother’s health was restored Miss Hull went to Washington intending to get her passports and return to France. While in the capital, however, she learned that an expedition was being organized to go to Siberia. Here was a prac- tically untouched field! Miss Hull began searching for an editor to send her to the Land of the Exiles. She tele- graphed to fifty editors offering her services. While waiting for replies she called at the office of General March, whohadreturned from France to accept the post of Chief of Staff. She met his aid, Major Swing. “T want to go to Siberia! What arethechances?” she said. “Wait a min- ute, [ll ask the general.” Returning in a few minutes, Major Swing informed her that General March would hear what she had to propose. After complimenting her on the work she had done in France, General March said: “Your stories are the sort that give the people at home a real idea of what the American soldier is like and what he likes and dislikes. I’d like to see you go with the Siberian expedition. These men are likely to be lost sight of in view of the big things that are happening in France. If you can get an editor to send you, I’ll accredit you!” It Was Not Easy, But She Got There O MANAGER of a barnstorming road show ever looked harder for an ‘‘angel”’ to finance his troupe than Miss Hull looked for an editor to give her that Siberian assign- ment.™* “For six weeks I telegraphed and wrote to all the editors I had ever known and to a lot I hadn’t,” said Miss Hull. “I had almost despaired when I got up courage to write to S. T. Hughes, editor in chief of the Newspaper Enterprise Association, for whom I eventually went. Fortunately for me, he had learned of my experiences along the Mexican border and in a short time he gave me the coveted assignment. “But my troubles were not over yet. When I applied at the Military Intelligence Branch, Washington, for my correspondent’s pass and other credentials, Captain Carl Ruth, an old newspaperman, dashed cold water into my face, as ’twere, saying: ‘I’m sorry to disappoint you, but there is a very clear order to the effect that no woman shall be accredited. So it is hardly worth while for you to present your application. I know, because we’ve had hundreds of applications and all have been turned down.’ “T argued with Captain Ruth, telling him what General March had said. ‘If General March tells you to accredit me I guess you will, won’t you?’ I said a bit heatedly. “*Oh, of course,’ replied the captain, smiling a queer little smile, ‘but you'll have to get the order.’ “*«T’ll have it in an hour,’ I snapped, sweep- ing out of the office. Exactly one hour later I returned with the following memorandum signed by General March: “‘Tf your only reason for refusing Miss Peggy Hull credentials is because she is a woman, issue them at once and facilitate her procedure to Vladivostok.’”’ A few days later Miss Hull set out on her ten-thousand-mile journey to Siberia, armed with the first war correspondent’s pass ever granted a woman by the War Department. Nothing to do till next Monday ” HAT’S more, when you have a 1900 Cataract Electric Washer, you finish the wash bright and early each Monday! Do you know why? It’s because of the magic figure 8. In the 1900 Washer the water is forced through the clothes in a figure 8 movement, four times as often as in the ordinary washer. ‘Thus it washes the clothes faster. In fact, it is this magic move- ment that makes the 1900 the perfect washing machine. You can wash everything in your 1900, for there is not a single part in the tub to cause wear and tear, or to pull off buttons. The water is forced through your clothes entirely by the action of the tub, not by the action of any parts in the tub. When you have finished the wash, there are no parts to lift out and clean either. The 1900 works easily, smoothly and at a cost of less than 2c an hour. It washes the clothes snowy white and clean in 8 to 10 minutes. The wringer also works electrically and can be moved from the washer clear around to the clothes basket without moving the washer an inch. Our Special Trial Offer You may prove to yourself that the 1900 is the perfect washing machine. There is a 1900 dealer near you who will gladly demonstrate a 1900 Cataract Washer right in your own home. When if you wish, you may start paying for it on terms to suit your convenience. Remember, we also have washing machines operated by hand and water power. we beg Se a Piet aK SEIT Hn Fad tosex ae: ¢ Pee Write to us today for the name of the nearest 1900 dealer, and a copy of the book, “George Brinton’s Wife.” It’s a story you will enjoy. Molly, his pretty little wife, had troubles of her own until she interrupted a bridge party, and then things began to happen. || 1900 CATARACT WASHER a :. 1900 WASHER COMPANY af 200 Clinton St., Binghamton, N. Y. Canadian Factory and Office CANADIAN 1900 WASHER CO 357 Yonge St., Toronto Comes in 8 and 12 sheet SiZCS. The water swirls through the tub in a figure 8 move- ment four times as often as in the ordinary washer. 1900 WASHER COMPANY ODD Le SR is A RR eerie PSL tgs, . i ints. age 3 oak 2-8 oh ist /- 200 Clinton St., Binghamton, N. Y. t Please send me the name of the § & nearest 1900 dealer, and a copy of the ed story “George Brinton’s Wife.” a 16 ——_—___ NAME ¥ Ss Just connect it with the Ca 4 fe electric light and off Reetee 7 i y it starts. —— CITY AND STATE ae fF as ‘Cadi, Pa Ne ne eee eT eee Oe ee ae | ee See ash ilsiace a | . Er = a we des g ™

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84 HOME JOURNAL April, 1920

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Ss MERICA has at least one great industry a “- knowledge of which will warm the hearts of a all woman-kind.

Salute the canned food on your pantry shelf. ‘The Pure Food Laws— commendable and necessary . though they are—are yet far exceeded in the | requirements which the great organized food | canning industry of the United States lays down for itself. | Think what such Protection means to our tables! ——— You whose important duty is the selection of the food that goes on the family table, remember this: All over the United States there stretch the great | organizations of the Pure Food Laws, Federal and State, working hand in hand. All over these same United States there stretches | from Washington —from the headquarters there of | the National Canners Association — another great NV VERS £ aye) ey) ‘ Sete “ar Xa ?.. we , owe SOS tay See 4Miy } iy My * ad RLS 4 = “~AS EG Lt a —=* = => —— ee ell) -. + Ast wo —_ "Ns SSN SAW o* “eet SAN a i ~~ _~S = P “3, : ae AWN 89 . ma hee ye NU AN Ae Tard a aw *-3 Pt yee +s - ~ SRS akuese,e e* WW se ee a . =o bod o*5% ~* . sia ° . . ~ ee Oe 8 4 ” ® san . a «5 ot Sacge*® ‘ .« » . . 7 . «gt 8 OY Gide. ae

© 1920 National Canners Association

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April, 1920 HOME JOURNAL 85 pure food organization — the voluntary Inspection Service of the National Can- ners Association. Not how Little it Must do— but how Much it Can do This is not an arm representing force or compulsion. Rather, it represents a united ambition on the part of a vast industry to keep itself in spirit and in practice above any necessity of laws of regulation. Little wonder, then, that the canning industry has been called “the industry which legislates for itself”! Never does this industry forget that it is dealing with food—with food, the thing of such vast con- sequence to the little family circle of the American home. In a very real way it realizes its responsibility and in a very real way it faces its responsibility. Tfonly you could See it all for Yourself Every American housewife should have the privilege of following through some of the great canneries of fruit, vegetables, soup, meat, sea food, milk and other prod- ucts. Follow the Inspector of the Associ- ation as he passes, on one of his visits, from the supply of fresh foods to the sorting, cleaning, preparing; follow the Inspector all the way through to the sealing of the cans, the final cooking, cooling and storing away. The Inspector represents a system which’ constantly, and at great expense, searches out the latest scientific facts of importance to this vital work of supplying the family table. He is a symbol of the painstaking care with which the canning business is conducted. He represents the earnest determination of the industry to supply our families with the best of food, clean, wholesome, nourishing and safe. Canned Food — “The Miracle on Your Table’’ And so may American housewives, mentally at least, salute the most self- respecting of objects, the can of food. You are standing before a very wonderful thing —a product which knows the limitations of neither climate nor season, coming to you Richly it deserves its title—“The Miracle on Your Table.” at any time and from any place. National Canners Association WASHINGTON, D. C. A nation-wide organization formed in 1907, consisting of producers of all varieties of hermetically sealed canned foods which have been sterilized by heat. It neither produces, buys, nor sells. Its purpose is to assure, for the mutual benefit of the industry and the public, the best canned foods that scientific knowledge and human skill can produce. ile Mpet ° —"* «= — oe

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806 a eal mas ae Gitano ona HOME JOURNAL Tale after the bath, after exercise) or ‘exposure, and in the boudoir is a wholesome, refreshing habit/ which finds expres- sion in visible charm. ‘The patented easily-opened, hinged cover makes Williams’ Talc most convenient to use, pre- vents waste and retains the exquisite perfume. Shaving Sdaps Tale Powders Toilet Soap Toilet W aters The patented hinged top which never sticks open and never sticks shut, can be opened or shut by a touch of the thumb, Your choice of a number of delightfully perfumed Williams’ Talcs — Violet, Carnation, English Lilac, La Tosca Rose, Matinee —and Baby Talc, which is practically unscented. THE J. B. WILLIAMS CO. GtastonsBury, CoNNECTICUT IAMS LABS Dental Cream and Phisder Cold Cream and Tollet Luxuries / jf f f April, 1920

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April, 1920 HOME JOURNAL 87 re You Your Husband’s Ward? | . ______ pietneetenssnemeyiheiisenssiensstsnssisntsnnicmnssanseiinnersva iceman ambinieceheetemmemeneias sears By Mary Sumner Boy HE gentle request of the pretty bride has prevailed. When she quietly objected to the triple promise to “love, honor and obey,” she usually had her way. At first there was only an occasional! protest, but gradu- ally the voices increased, and there was a strong undercurrent of opposition. Now it is the ex- ception rather than the rule to hear the bride’s faint “I will” in response to the clergyman’s solemn ‘‘obey.” The promise to obey, when retained in our marriage service to-day, is reminiscent of the time when marriage made women the wards of their husbands. Wives in those days were sup- posed to be children whose minds never became capable of mature judgment. They had no right to their own property, no control of their own money, no responsibility in the family and no voice in their own affairs. When the young girl bride objected to the word ‘“‘obey,”’ she did not know it, but she was protesting against the old English common law, with its ‘defect of sex,” its ‘existence of the wife suspended during marriage” and its many other quaintly expressed statements which served to put wives in the peculiar position of being legally non- existent. That law, first put into writing by Blackstone early in the eighteenth century, was adopted wholesale by our states. In 1848 women in all the states, except those few settled by the French and Spanish, were liv- ing under the common law. At that time the family and the household were their principal interest. The supreme sovereignty of the husband which the common law granted him seldom meant hardship for women, because they had few interests outside the home. Present-day conditions have changed the life cf women completely. They now have many interests besides the home and frequently come into contact with the law. Discriminations against them, which are remnants of the old common law, hamper them more seriously to-day than the old law as it originally stood in our grandmothers’ day. The Old Law Was Good to the Husband NDER the old common law of Blackstone the hus- band was entitled to the wife’s time and labor in the home; to her earnings; to her separate property (personal), or the income from her real property; and at her death he, ‘‘by curtesy,”’ inherited life use of all the wife’s property. This was not all. So far as busi- ness was concerned, among other restrictions the wife could not make a contract or a will, sue or be sued, or go into business without her husband’s.consent. If he did consent, the benefit was not hers, but his, for the wife’s profits by the law were the husband's. What did the common law demand of the husband ? By comparison, very little. He was required to sup- ply nothing except the necessaries for his wife, and these according to his own or the court’s interpreta- tion of what fitted her position in life. No money need be given her, which often meant that her position in the household was not greatly different from that of a menial. At the husband’s death the wife inherited, not as he did, ‘‘by curtesy,” the whole of her posses- sions for life, but only a dower or one-third of his. In short, the wife was the ward of the husband. This perpetual childhood of the married woman, im- posed on her by the old English common law, is a condition that has not passed away entirely with the passing of the years and the appearance of new laws in our statute books. It is recognized to-day in the promise to obey which the young brides have found so objectionable. It is recognized again in the fact that a woman’s age of majority is automatically reached on marriage in half a dozen states at the present time. In Georgia, for instance, a woman is legally capable of contracting marriage at the age of fourteen, thereby becoming of age. If she remains unmarried she dces not become of age until she is twenty-one. Preachers Used to Punish Their Wives HE common law gave the husband the right to administer chastisement to his wife. That it was a right at least sometimes exercised may be judged from the fact that preachers punished their wives. There is AWonan A Doa vA ~ WALNUT TREE , THE ~ More You Beat THEM THe Better THey Be rh, ~~ i oy Co: U Tronk Usgh Herren Dal ¢ Seupt ArwoDomia 120 a celebrated case of a minister who beat his wife with a stick. The case was taken into the courts and the judges decided that since the stick used was within the meaning of the term “moderation” the minister had not exceeded his right as a husband. More astonishing than this, however, is it to learn that to-day there is diversity of opinion in the courts as to whether a wife can sue her husband for assault and battery or, as it is legally expressed, for ‘‘torts against her.”” Some state courts hold to the opinion that she can, but no less an authority than the United States Supreme Court has decided differently. In a case in the District of Columbia it was decided that if a wife did have this power to protect herself from physical violence it would probably not be ‘ promo- tive of the public welfare and domestic harmony.” Though there are half a dozen reverse decisions, this case stands as a precedent. Only a law on the statute books of every state can prevent an occasional decision based on this case in the highest court in the land. There are some amusing provisions in the common law. One of these is the fact that a “tort” (a wrongful act for which a civil action may be brought) com- mitted by the wife in the presence of the husband was his responsibility and not hers. At least two of our states still hold to this practice. Foolish as it is, this responsibility of the husband for his wife’s wrong- doing was the only bit of favor, aside from the bare necessaries of existence, that the common law granted the wife. ‘About the only right the woman retained, according to Blackstone himself,” says a New York lawyer, ‘‘was that of being prosecuted criminally.” How the Old Law Handicaps Wives Now O-DAY there are still remnants of the common law applying to married women, often pretty generous remnants at that, in most of our state codes. Some states perpetuate the common-law conception of the wife by general statements on their statutes. Thus the code of ‘Louisiana reads: ‘All persons have the power to contract except persons of insane mind, those who are interdicted, minors and married women.” The West Virginia law, in a like grouping with married women, includes ‘‘inmates of the peni- tentiary.”” The Georgia code says: ‘‘The husband is the head of the family and the wife is subject to him. Her legal and civil existence is merged in that of her husband except so far as the law recognizes her as separate for her own safety.”” The proviso at the end of this statement is a saving clause, of course, but such statements should be wiped out of all codes—first, be- cause they are derogatory to women, and, second, because they can be invoked in cases not specifically covered by other laws. Remnants of the common law on the statute books of our states to-day handicap the married woman in three ways: In regard to her separate property; in regard to her separate business; and in regard to her economic status in relation to the family income. Re- garding the separate property of the wife, the Arizona code gives as good a definition as any of this term, describing it as “‘ realty or personalty owned or claimed by the wife (at marriage), or that acquired after marriage by gift, devise or descent, and the in- crease, rents, issues and profits thereof.’’ Most state codes and half a dozen state constitutions now proclaim in a blanket way that a wife’s separate property is her own, as if she were un- married. They then proceed to make exceptions that circumscribe the wife’s ownership. For instance, unless the wife takes legal pre- cautions, in some states her property can be levied on for her husband’s debts. In a great many states the wife cannot dispose of her real property or land without the consent of her hus- band. A married woman cannot dispose of her personal property without the consent of her husband in certain states. In some states the husband has the management of the wife’s prop- erty. In Florida, although he mismanage, the law gives her no redress, for she cannot even sue him. Gifts With Strings Tied to Them \ \ THEN a husband generously bestows a gift on his wife, the law of some states seems to question his sincerity, for the gift has a string tied to it and the husband still controls it. Provisions in some states designed to prevent too easy conveyance of property from husband to wife to circumvent cred- itors are of course justifiable and are not included here. It is almost too absurd to believe, yet sometimes even the wife’s clothing belongs to the husband. By the law of three states clothing given the wife by the husband or purchased with his money belongs to him. As to the wife’s separate business, the laws of the states retain a good many provisions reminiscent of the common law conception of the wife. Two states, Louisiana and West Virginia, as already mentioned, class wives with persons of unsound mind as unfit to make a legally binding contract. Not quite so absurd regarding the wife’s business sense are some other states. West Virginia and North Carolina require the husband’s consent before the wife may convey her property. A woman cannot go into partnership busi- ness without her husband’s consent if she lives in Michi- gan. Court rec6rd of a wife’s business undertakings is required by law in several states. This should not be construed as working hardship on women in all cases. It may serve to prevent her business from becoming involved in her husband’s debts, or his in hers. Kentucky Has a Good Law N SOME states a married woman cannot go surety without her husband's approval. This is justifiable as long as she has no property of herown. The Ken- tucky rule is a good one on this point —that a wife may assume such obligation to the extent of her own separate property. This puts the entire responsibility on the wife and permits her to do as she pleases with what belongs to her alone. In a number of states married women may not be stockholders or tncorporators in a business company. This year two states, Pennsylvania and Texas, were added to the list of those which grant this privilege to women who are married. The right to sue without her husband’s authority is denied a wife in certain states. In some few others a woman who hasa husband cannot be administratrix of an estate or executrix of a will. These may seem like minor restrictions, but in some cases they may mean serious hardship and heavy loss to wives. Furthermore, they curtail women’s free- dom and are undemocratic discriminations against a group of citizens and, as such, should be removed from the statutes. What women are asking is that they be as free and also as responsible as their hus- bands in all their business dealings. They do not ask favor, but justice. They want laws which work both ways—to prevent the shifting of a wife’s business obligations to her husband's shoulders and of his obli- gations to hers. The last of the three common-law restrictions on married women, applying to her earnings and the profits of her business, is most interesting in these days when so many wives besides being helpmates in the home are helpmates also in a financial way. CONTINUED ON PAGE 88

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——_— ~~ St cerns o~ reo 88 HOME JOURNAL vasure to’ us to have ladies, | 71s always a pleasure po sore Sak thew men folk in the selection of lothin - q Vind that women. because 4 — w - W erlness in judging style and va + fe UA eT CLOTHES 1 wclile CAUE FIRST CLOTHES Hichaels-Sern | i 4 oud approve o mens properence ¢ for. them | From the Va us-First DEALER April, 1920 in your community. Where Woman’s Judgment Is Better. bee boy knows style—the particular shoul- der lines or waist effects that appeal to him. He wants a bit of “kick” to his clothes. And “father’’—he has his own ideas of clothes, suitable to a ‘“‘man of his years.’ But father and son give way to mother when it comes to value—the worth of fabric, the details of tailoring, the workmanship that in itself guarantees lasting style. Go shopping with them when they choose their Spring clothes. Give them the benefit of your buying ex- perience. When you are comparing clothes values be sure to call at a VaLuE-FiIrRstT store and examine Michaels-Stern VALUE-FIRST CLOTHES Any Vatue-F rst dealer will be only too pleased to have you see for yourself: VALUE—woven into the cloth VaLuE—tailored into the garment VaLuE—expressed in smart style VaLuE—First, last and all the time. Look for the sign of the VaLug-First Boy. He’s the sign of a VALUE-F rst store. MICHAELS, STERN & Company, Rochester, N. Y. Are You Your Husband’s Ward? (CONTINUED FROM PAGE 87) According to the law, the husband’s earnings, profits or income from whatever source, ex- cept for the obligation to supply the bare necessaries of existence for the wife, are his to do with as he pleases. According to the law in most states a wife’s earnings, ‘‘acquéts,” or gains are her own, but with limitations. In a number of states the wife’s earnings are hers only if she lives separate from her husband—a premium on divorce, one might almost say. In half a dozen states a wife may work in her husband’s business, ob- serving hours and all regulations the same as other employees, and yet the law does not permit her to claim one cent of wages from him. An interesting example of this has come up in the New York courts. A farmer’s wife received from him a note in payment for work in the fields. The farmer died and his relatives contested the note. The court decided that the note was void, as a husband could not pay his wife for doing work on his farm, thus adhering to the common-law principle that the wife’s wages as well as her time and services in the home were the husband’s. Can’t be Sure of Her Earnings OT even with a law on the statute books can a wife always be sure of her own earn- ings. From New York again comes a decision that is quite discouraging to women. In 1915 a judicial decision was given that a wife’s earnings, unless it was specifically agreed between husband and wife beforehand that such earnings were to be separate, belonged to the husband. In West Virginia, if a wife goes out to work each day, what she brings home at night is hers; if she takes boarders at home or takes in sewing or laundry work, the profits of her toil are her husband’s. A just law would provide that a wife’s earnings outside of work for her family are her own and that for work in her husband’s employ she should receive payment in pro- portion to her services. Such a law would probably at once call forth the demand that a wage-earning wife assume her share of responsibility in the family support, which is only right and proper. In about two-thirds of our states there is legislation holding the wage-earning wife and the wife with separate property to such responsibility under certain conditions. From the wife’s compensation for work in her husband’s business to compensation or lack of it for work in her family is a logical next step. So close and logical a next step is it that in some dozen or so of the state laws which forbid payment of a wife by her hus- band it is hard to tell whether work in his home or his business is intended. Wives Cannot Command Wages N A RECENT New Jersey case the hus- band agreed to pay his wife a regular salary for the housework —six dollars a week. The court of chancery decided that to pay a wife for her labors in the home ‘‘ would oper- ate disastrously on domestic life.” Innostate are there laws which cover this situation adequately, although blanket statements assuring to the wife the bare necessaries of existence, but giving her no definite share of the family income, are found in some codes. In one state the law provides that if, in addition to her labors in the household, a wife labors also in her husband’s business, she has a right to a definite share of the family income. Even when death overtakes husband or wife the wife’s inheritance rights are not equal to the husband’s. In a third of our states where “dower and curtesy” prevail the wife is granted only a third of the hus- band’s estate. The husband, on the other hand, inherits all the wife’s property. In at least one state, Alabama, if the wife has property or money of her own equal to her dower rights in her husband’s estate she is cut off from inheriting even her third. There is not much encouragement for a wife to save out of her household allowance, for the New York courts have decided that such accumulations of her thrift are not hers to do with as she pleases, but belong to the husband and must go back to him. The New Jersey courts have been less unfair in this matter and have divided the savings half and half. As to that vast body of women who are working mothers and housekeepers, it is not in keeping with American principles that they work merely for their keep. Under the law they do just this, for only the bare neces- saries of life are assured to them. It ‘would be only common justice to grant to such wives a definite share of the family income. Although no states adequately meet this problem in their statutes, eight—Arizona, Texas, Louisiana, Washington, California, Idaho, Nevada and New Mexico—aim to do justice in this respect by the community- property law inherited from the French and Spanish settlers. This law recognizes the wife’s claim on one-half the family income in specific terms. Women Have Made a Long Fight UT the community-property laws, as they stand to-day, contain some grave dis- criminations in respect to inheritance, some serious ones in respect to control and a few in other directions. However, they do contain the germ of economic rights for the wife and, because of that, may be taken as models for other states. These laws are the most interesting legis- lation applying to wives on the statute books of any of our states. They may be said to mark the farthest progress made by the states for the legal freedom of wives. Such is the legal standing of wives in this country to-day. It is not a story of grave wrongs, such as wives experienced under the old common law, but of annoying last remnants of those old injustices, which the modern woman of wide interests keenly resents. The long fight made by women to rid the statutes of the states of laws which handi- cap wives began in 1848, when Elizabeth Cady Stanton, a young wife and mother, with Lucretia Mott, drafted the first state- ment of the wrongs of the married woman ever formulated in the world as part of the Declaration of Sentiments adopted at the first Women’s Rights Convention, held at Seneca Falls, New York. This same young wife and mother was most active in urging the passing of the married woman’s property bill, which finally did pass the New York Legislature that same year. Much Remains to be Done, However HERE are good reasons why the handi- caps of the married woman figured so largely in the program of the early suffra- gists. The pioneer suffragists were almost, it may be said, ten to one married women. Susan B. Anthony, and in the next gener- ation Anna Howard Shaw, two unmarried suffrage pioneers, are simply the exceptions that prove the rule. The married women of two generations have fought a good fight for the wives and mothers of the future. They have accom- plished a great deal, but much remains to be done. At present the campaign to attain justice for wives by changing our state laws is being carried on under the leadership of Mrs. Catharine Waugh McCulloch, a member of the Illinois bar. The League of Women Voters, recently formed by the National American Woman Suffrage Association, undertakes as part of its program the removal of the last inequalities that hamper married women and, as chairman of the League’s Committee on the Unification of Laws on the Civil Status of Women, Mrs. McCulloch -is working hard to gain for wives the same legal standing that their husbands enjoy. It should be said, in conclusion, that the unenlightened, worn-out laws that discrimi- nate against wives, “hand-me-downs”’ of a remote day of different customs and habits from those we now enjoy, reflect no discredit on modern husbands. In fact, on the con- trary, it is probably because husbands are generally fair and just men and because most wives live in peace and harmony in happy homes that the laws about married women on our statute books have been left unchanged until now. But to-day it is up to the women, as voters, to change the state codes and to give to the wife the same rights as the hus- band in regard to her separate property, her separate business and her own earnings, and to grant her an equal share of the com- mon income in return for her services to the family. The wife, too, must assume her share of the support of the family according to, whatever separate financial resources she may have. Democracy demands equality. To make wives full and equal citizens with their husbands is furthering democracy. Ap

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April, 1920 HOME JOURNAL In Wonderful New Overland 4, 77ip/ex Springs Make Rough Roads Ride Like Paved Roads HREE-POINT suspension 777p/ex Springs make Overland 4 a new and entirely different type of car—one that glides over road bumps with extraor- dinary ease and turns jolt and shock into smooth riding comfort. This car’s freedom from the usual sway and re- bound means less fatigue—greater pleasure from your long rides with your enjoyment of roadside scenery unmarred by watching every rut. Overland 4 has marked economy advantages as well. Its lightness makes it remarkably economical of fuel and tires. Protected by its wonderful new Triplex Springs from the wear of road blows, it has longer life and costs less for upkeep. The equipment is complete, including Auto-Lite starting and lighting. The handsome finish is hard- baked and the upholstery is soft and deep. Overland 4 is as convenient and attractive as it is serviceable. WILLYS-OVERLAND, INC., TOLEDO, OHIO Sedans, Coupés, Touring Cars and Roadsters Willys-Overland, Limited, Toronto, Canada

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rit )M, f -JOL IRN Al reat White Way SELZNICK BROADWAY AND 45 5ST. LOOKING NORTH rt aa | 1 ct wis | a ELZNICK SIGNS show Fg wie E which way the crowds go—for itll - RALPHINCE | i Selznick Pictures are the gate- ! | sume | nL Tei * way to the world of amusement. ’ adel | * 7: And it is because of the fundamen- ia | * tally Auman appeal of Selznick Pictures that they are so popular—popular not only along *‘ The Great White Way,”’ but from Alaska to India. in i oh No matter where you may be, Selznick Pictures show you your stars living in a world that becomes your world—a world builded of shifting shadows—so real as to give imagina- tion actual existence. It is on the power to transport you to a different life that the success of Selznick Pictures is builded. That’s why Selznick Pictures create happy hours. TIMES SQUARE LOOKING SOUTH AT THEATRES WHERE QUALITY RULES

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we — —— Wa > w= April, 1920 H E HOME J OURNAL 91 The Young Mothers’ Registry By Emelyn Lincoln Coolidge, M. D. Attending Physician in Diseases of Children to the Society of the Lying-in Hospital, New York City Your Baby at Three Months \ MOTHER with her first baby often has no standard of comparison to go by and wonders if her baby is de- veloping normally. The average baby at three months of age weighs thirteen pounds and measures 231% inches in length, ac- cording to the Government score card. Ifa baby weighed less than normal at birth, of course the weight would be less than the average at three months of age, and no mother need to worry on this account as long as the baby gains at least four ounces weekly and is well otherwise. Breast-fed babies often gain faster than bottle-fed ones and boys often weigh a little more than girls. Between the third and fourth months the baby begins to hold his head erect and will usually recognize his mother or his nurse. While he cannot handle toys very well yet, he may reach out his hand for a bright ob- ject. The tear ducts become active now and the baby cries with real tears. He should not be allowed to sit up without having his back supported, but he may be held in the upright position for a while every day, or of salt; boil this for half an hour in a double boiler, remove it from the fire, measure, and add enough boiling water to make up the fifteen ounces. Now add the sugar, and mix well, while the gruel is hot; strain this and get it perfectly cold; when cold, add the cold certified or the Grade A milk. Do not boil or cook the milk unless your doctor especially orders it. There are dozens of formulas for modifying milk, but the above is a simple one and usually agrees if given carefully and strict attention is paid to cleanliness of milk and all utensils, also regularity in feeding. Some Require a Weaker Formula REAST-FED babies at three months of age, who have never had anything but mother’s milk, will have to take a weaker formula than babies who have always been fed cow’s milk. About three ounces more gruel than milk should be given at first, then work up gradually to equal parts of milk and gruel or boiled water, as it is hard to make such a small quantity of gruel just for one bottle meal. If for any reason it is necessary to give a baby top milk in place of propped up in a basket with pillows for half an hour at a time. Do not use a high chair or any- thing that will strain the little back. By the time the baby is three months old his eyes will generally have taken on the permanent color. Before this, it is often hard to tell just what color the eyes will be. The baby should have one or two smooth, yellow movements from the bowels now and use his little mixed or whole milk, then the formula must be weaker than given here because top milk or cream is _ richer in fats than the whole milk and babies cannot take so strong a mixture. Each baby is a law unto himself as far as digestion is con- cerned, and must be watched and fed ac- cording to his special needs. If a baby is in the Home Jour- NAL Registry he gets this special atten- tion, as his records are filed and com- chamber in the lap of mother or nurse. He should not vomit; there is an old-fashioned idea that healthy babies should throw up their food, but this is a sign of overfeeding or indigestion and not of health. The old-time ‘three months’ colic” is another sign of indigestion and wrong feeding, which fortunately is now not often seen. A baby wrongly fed or cared for may have colic at any age; there is no set time for colic to cease; this depends on proper regulation of the food. Feeding Schedule and Formula BREAST-FED baby at three months of age should be nursed regularly every three hours from 6 A. M. to 6 P. M., then at 10 p. M., and not again until the next morn- ing. No 2 A. M. meal is allowable after the baby is three months old. The only way to stop this night meal is to keep the baby in his own crib and let him cry it out. If you take him in bed with you he will never stop of his own accord, as long as you allow it; the longer you wait to train him the harder it will be. One meal from a bottle is advisable at this age, as it will gradually train the baby to take cow’s milk and make weaning easier for both mother and baby. The bottle-fed baby should have the same schedule as the breast-fed one—always start- ing at the same hour in the morning. If he has had cow’s milk from birth, or for some time at least, his formula is often as follows: Whole milk (certified, or Grade A), fifteen ounces; boiled water, or a cereal gruel, fif- teen ounces; milk, or malt sugar, three level tablespoonfuls, or cane sugar, one and a half tablespoonfuls. Five ounces of the above mixture is put in each one of six bottles. A cereal gruel adds nourishment to the food and often aids digestion at this age. Barley, wheat, oat or rice flours are most often used. To make the gruel, take one level tablespoonful of the flour selected, blend this with a little cold water, and add it to fifteen ounces of boiling water and a pinch A Registry Baby pared each month before a new formula is sent to the mother. Orange juice is often used at three months of age. If the baby is breast-fed it is not so essential as if he is bottle-fed, unless he hap- pens to be constipated, when it is often a great help in regulating the bowels. It should be begun in teaspoonful doses diluted with the same amount of water and given in the morning, at least one hour before a meal. This may gradually be worked up to one tablespoonful of orange juice and one of water. If the baby is inclined to have too many movements do not give the orange juice. Boiled water must still be given between meals—about one ounce warmed and given in a bottle for either a breast-fed or a bottle- fed baby should be offered him at least three times daily between meals. Be careful never to give tastes of any food from the table or anything recommended by neighbors. Detailed advice about the care of bottles and nipples and the preparation of different gruels and formulas is sent each month to all Registry babies. If the baby is too old to join the Registry there is a separate leaflet for such cases, which will be sent on request, provided a stamped, addressed en- velope is inclosed with the request. How Long a Baby Should Sleep THREE-MONTH-OLD baby should sleep about eighteen hours out of twenty- four. He should be taken out at least three hours every pleasant day in winter, six hours in summer. When the weather is very cold or windy he should be aired in the house. His tub bath should be given every day. Vaccination is recommended by all spe- cialists for babies and the best time to have this attended to is from three to six months of age. Reliable vaccine should be used and the baby should always be vaccinated by a doctor who understands proper precautions as to cleanliness. HE YOUNG MOTHERS’ REGISTRY is a mail department conducted by Doctor Coolidge, which is designed to give monthly instruction to mothers about the care of their babies. Babies must be registered before they are six months old. On receipt of a stamped, addressed envelope and 2 cents in stamps extra, to cover cost of service, Doctor Coolidge will forward registry blanks, which must be filled out and returned. Advice on the care, feeding, etc., of the babies will then be sent every month. Questions about older children up to twelve years of age will also be answered by mail if a stamped, addressed-envelope and 2 cents in stamps are sent to Emelyn L. Coolidge, M. D., in care of Tue LapiEes’ Home JournAL, Independence Square, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. we PATI ‘ aa id Se Oy, HEINZ OVEN BAKED BEANS Wuy do Heinz Baked Beans ¢aste so good? Heinz famous tomato sauce, made of fresh ripe tomatoes and perfectly flavored, accounts in part for their popularity. And the pork used, a choice bacon cut, gives richness and flavor. But of the four varieties of Heinz Oven Baked Beans, each is delicious, though some have no tomato sauce, and one is cooked without pork. Each of the four varieties owes its distinctive taste to the oven-baking of carefully selected beans, in real dry-heat ovens, that brings out the rich bean flavor as only daking can do. Nothing of nutriment escapes, and nothing of flavor. The beans are digestible, as well as delicious. Heinz Baked Beans with Pork and Tomato Sauce , Heinz Baked Pork and Beans (without Tomato Sauce) Boston style Heinz Baked Beans in Tomato Sauce without Meat (Vegetarian) Heinz Baked Red Kidney Beans Some of the Vinegars _.. Spaghetti «ss Cream Soups Tomato Ketchup All Heinz goods sold in Canada are packed in Canada

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arin Se — re HOME JOURNAL April, 1920 b el Gen , Tous —— Boys in country and city like this shoe. — appearance appeals to their manly instincts. feels good. Its sturdy, robust Fits well— But even more important, from the economy standpoint, is that patented, one-piece upper—found only in Tongue, vamp and quarter are a part of each other—cut from the same piece of leather at the same time. So the tongue can’t pull out, and the absenceof seams means no rips or leaks. Uppers of most shoes contain from four to six pieces. Here’s the shoe that wears like iron. Soles and heels are stout and serviceable. Two thick- nesses of leather cover the toe. And the single seam, at the rear of the shoe, runs with the strain. It is reinforced by a full-length leather backstay and three rows of stitching—so won’t rip. Made on the army last —a last selected byGovernment experts for military footwear— Won- seam Shoes give that freedom necessary for easy walking and allow the feet to grow naturally. Wonseams will reduce your shoe bills. Put them on your boy to-day. Insist on Won- seam — you'll find® that name stamped on the sole of the shoe. In case your dealer happens to be out of them, please tell us who he is—mention size wanted and we will make prompt arrangements to supply you. Wonseam PATENTED AND REGISTERED SHOES Won’t Rip e and me One > R Wonseam Shoes are made in either black or chocolatefor boys. Also for men and little gents $4 to $8 Depending on Size W. H. Griffin Company - Manchester, N. H. A Virginia Viscountess (CONTINUED FROM PAGE 32) chatting with the proprietress, a German woman, who served us. Between spoonfuls, Nannie inquired after the health, welfare and general condition of each member of this woman’s family by name, age and sex, Adolph, Rudolph, Fritz and Heinie—she knew them all and was as vitally interested in their joys and sorrows as if they had been her own. Undoubtedly this is one of the reasons for her amazing success, that capacity—not assumed, but perfectly genuine—of really caring about circumstances and conditions affecting others for either weal or woe, and caring so much that she would spend her strength to exhaustion in an effort to right a wrong. Winding her slender legs around the rungs of her chair and dexterously excavating with her sharp pink tongue the last vestige of strawberry cream, she turned rapt eyes upon the proprietress as she told of Rudolph’s or Heinie’s success at the public school and what good marks he got, and remarked with breathless interest: ““T am so pleased, Mrs. Marks. You tell him I am just as proud of him as I can be”’; and the curious part was that she was glad because a little boy, whom she hardly knew, had done well at school. As we thus chatted and refreshed our- selves the door of the shop was flung wide and a frantic Sicilian dashed in, waving his arms and calling down anathemas upon us. Owing to his rage and his ignorance of the Inglish language we could not, at first, find out what the trouble was; but as the vials of his wrath seemed to be opened upon Nannie’s head, she remarked succinctly: “T’ll bet it’s the goats’; and we made for the door. ES, it was the goats indeed. One had broken loose from the wagon and was walking daintily over the fruit on the very top of the stall, devouring as he went. The other was posed like a satyr, front feet in the oranges, neck upstretched, nibbling off bunches of grapes. The poor man’s stock in trade was demolished. We really were sorry, and by pooling our depleted funds we hoped to reimburse him; but we could only produce a sadly inade- quate sum, and to Nannie’s repeated ‘“‘ Now calm yourself, Tony, we’ll pay you back,” the heartbroken Sicilian gave scant heed. He was ruined and, calling a reluctant po- liceman, who had been watching from a distance and who was ever our guide, phi- losopher and friend in similar crises, Tony loudly demanded the presence of one Mr. Chiswell Dabney Langhorne. When that gentleman arrived, haled from the comfort of his deep leather chair in the Westmoreland Club, the injured Tony’s efforts were as nothing by comparison to Mr. Langhorne’s. The policeman listened in profound admiration, and the very goats seemed to shudder. The small daughter and future member of a British Parliament regarded her father with mingled interest and pride, certainly without a trace of fear. It is said of her that upon another occasion when she had called down the wrath of this most genial but fiery parent, and when his picturesque flow of language ceased, she clasped her hands in perfectly genuine en- thusiasm and exclaimed: “Oh, father, don’t stop fussing; I just love to hear you!” Much of her wit and magnetism she in- herited from him, and his many witticisms are almost household words in Virginia. N RETROSPECT we seemed to be ever bound upon some high adventure, with Nancy at our head. It was a captivating leadership, but most wearing at times upon our families and friends. Yet there seems to me to be something lacking in the comings and goings of the well-ordered lives of my own six little girls. Poor dears! they have no future member of Parliament to plan fas- cinating iniquities. Whenever story telling is in order they say: “Tell us about what you and Nancy used to do, mother, when you were little girls.” I am rather irritated, because they ap- parently regard these adventures as being contemporaneous with Joan of Arc or Mary, Queen of Scots, when to me they happened only yesterday. There was the incident of the diamond- back terrapins, which intrigued us mightily at the time. A box of these rare and expen- sive reptiles had been sent to Mr. Langhorne, and a certain famous John Dabney, a most elegant and courteous colored gentleman— he who was privileged to thrill Edward VII, then Prince of Wales, with his first mint julep—was to produce, with certain charms and incantations, a terrapin stew of celestial delight for the benefit of important visitors. These animals had an irresistible fascina- tion for us and, unheeding the admonitions of mammy to “Let Mr. Chilly’s turtles alone,” we decided one day to turn them out into the yard. The fable of the hare and the tortoise no longer astonishes me when I think of the rapid getaway of those diamond backs. It was as if the earth had swallowed them, and also it was the only time I ever saw Nancy come near to losing her nerve. She was astute enough to know that much depended upon the tickling of those influen- tial palates, and loand behold! All that suc- culent flavor had crawled away, we knew not where. After a frantic search we retrieved all ex- cept one; they had gone into the most un- likely places. We found one under a pink brocaded pillow in a neighbor’s drawing- room, I remember, and mammy’s prayerful invective as she joined in the search was: “Gawd knows! I wish one of ’em would bite yo’, ’ca’se de’ don’ let go till it thunders, and endurin’ dat time we all might see some peace.” OME days after the dinner party the one missing diamond back crawled from be- hind the dressing table of a gentleman who lived near by, a brilliant lawyer who was far too fond of his toddy. The shock sobered him for an amazing and previously unheard of period. ; It was upon the occasion of this piece of mischief that the historic battle waged in which Nancy said to her father: ‘Don’t talk to me like that; you know I am your trump card.” It was somewhere near this time that she had a severe illness, and we went hushed and saddened at the loss of our playmate. As she grew better I was allowed to see her, and I can recall the tightening of the heart at my first sight of her frailness, with her yellow hair spread upon the pillow and her big gray eyes all spirit. Irene was her devoted nurse, and I was gripped by the terror of possible loss as I felt, rather than saw, her anxiety. If one had not known before how well be- loved she was, it became during her illness a very evident fact. High and low, the ques- tion was asked: “How is she to-day?” Many were the stories, unknown even to her mother and to the close and tenderly loved younger sister Phyllis, of acts of generosity and thoughtfulness toward both white and black, and the froglike “Tawm” was kept busy answering anxious inquiries. It was soon after her recovery that “ Mir- ador”’ in Albemarle County was rebuilt, and we ceased to be together during the summer at the White Sulphur Springs, the family making ‘‘ Mirador”’ their summer home. We had our French lessons together from the same teacher and our dancing from an- other agile Latin and together, with any- thing but “reluctant feet,’”’ we neared that place ‘‘ where brook and river meet.” PON the many girls and women who are turning eyes of wonder and, perhaps quite naturally, a little envy toward this Vir- ginia woman who has shattered the precedent of centuries, who to-day sits among the law- makers of one of the world’s great parlia- ments and is numbered among the notable women of her century, I would like to im- press the fact that it is not because of her vast wealth, her rare beauty, nor yet en- tirely because of her charm and brilliancy that these honors have come to her, but be- cause of a character true and stanch, that despises shams, laughs at pretense and is loyal to the humblest of her friends even among those in far-away but well-beloved Virginia. In connection with her I often think of what was said in a war sermon by a certain English bishop: ‘Give us grace, O Lord, that our boys may be pure and our maidens brave.” “You mean it the other way, do you not, bishop—that the girls be pure and the boys brave?” “No,” said the bishop; ‘‘God has done that already. I meant what I said.” It seems fitting that from the soil of Vir- ginia, where the flower of England’s cavaliers first set foot on this continent, there should return, pure and brave, to the mother coun- try such a daughter. May she increase in wisdom for the task before her!

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April, 1920 HOME JOURNAL a 93 SRRETTSSRCRR ERTS RASH SRK EER RETESET SHR AER TEER ETRE RTS HAHER TECH THREATS TRS SESH ERHE RHETT RSH SHTEHS STRESSES REST RPSER ESS SETTER SERRE ETEPEHR EHR RHETT RES REE ETE RETHET ERSTE eee eee eee 8 FLATO PELE RCR ERE RARE eRe tate tttke DERGHRCRHORSRESERURERTOCRECEREUGHOTURSREOTICROCRDESUCECRREStGR Be 5° 1 pe NE vr gE Se, sae GABE ® 1S nig SE oie} _L7?_, SS ee pig oh ides PAE Cg Fee gape ih se ae? § $ ee / OE a ae 5 Wi re ia ee bi Aaa ; iis Misys ics he ee bee es Wei te POET hs A ee gee aie RaaA CAS; Fig ort 4 5 NRE * Bain 3 te tom REG. U.S. PAT.OFF The picture shown here is the second in a series of four. One is appearing each month in the national magazines. These illustrations form the SS = basis of a unique contest for OS Saas boys. See particulars at the - foot of this advertisement. “‘He Comes to the City and Goesi. for Reform’’ PEAKING of reform—it’s astonishing how important a part clothes play in building character. Perhaps clothes ‘‘make the man.” But of a certainty, they go a long way toward making the ‘‘man in the making.”’ Consider WEARPLEDGE for that Boy of Yours Every model distinctive. Every pattern chosen in good taste. The fabrics and the tailoring a tribute to the only Boys’ Suit in America that is insured by a policy for life. P Consider WEARPLEDGE for that Boy of Yours Sturdily sewn. A real “‘Live’’ Leather Belt built into each suit. Every model passed on by a Committee of Women (yourself by proxy). The one aim to pre- sent the best and cleverest clothes value at a moderate price. There is a gift for each purchaser, a Policy that protects with every garment, and a Retailer nearby who has the exclusive right to show you this famous line. Failing to find him—communicate with us promptly. THE BAUMAN CLOTHING CORP. (Department L) 110 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK 51 Watches Free Boys—write a story based on the above and three other pictures which we have ready for you. You may be the lucky winner in the Wearpledge Short Story Contest. Get the complete series of illustrations and fuil details at the Wearpledge store in your city—or else write us direct. Have you seen the famous Wearpledge Style Book? Free copy on request. MODEL 1107 4 Ca 6J~ WURERUREUEREEE NTE UTTTTEUTELTEGEDSSUSTOCTODODSDOCSRODDECCSIDIVITCSTOTETOOUCCSUOSEROSTUEDSEEUSSSESSETUCCODSCUICUUCOUUSUCLOOTONGCEDGSSRUOCULCSSESSCUSRAUEGLEDCTOTONSHORELEEREULUU CHENIER ICRAtCeeUTI TTT CSERSESESSS ORE RESECOCECN CSE ESESS SESS SISS it PEUUREUUUSEUEMEUESEEREREREUUEEES CECE UEESEE SUSUMU EEEUNIED PERU UUUUUUUUREUUUUECUUUEUEUCUCTICIONCUSCS ULUUUUESCEUUSOUCUNIUUS UES UUUUEEEEEEEUEEE MEUEUUUREUEE EU UEERUEEEUE EMER EEE EEUSEUEEUEEUUUEER EURO PEPE PEEER OSS RTROER RE SHRS TERS FOUSTERHTOCASTESSIT ESSER BER E EE eee eee ee eee) le j=

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Make Your Coffee in the Cup! You will like the new way of making coftee. Put your coffee pot or percolator away for one week and try famous Barrington Hall Coffee in instant form—made in the cup — without grounds, without waste, with- out the bitter, woody taste of the coffee bean. This delicious coffee is scientifically per- colated for you in great, white-tiled kitchens at the factory — reduced to a soluble powder and packed in vacuum sealed glass jars. Your grocer probably has the new Soluble Barrington Hall. If not, send us his name and 55c for the medium size jar, which makes as many cups as a pound of the best bean coffee. Your money will be promptly refunded if you are not delighted with it! BAKER IMPORTING COMPANY 226 North Second Street MINNEAPOLIS SOLUBLE Barrington Hall Coffee 126 Hudson Street NEW YORK HOME JOURNAL April, 1920 Yanks and Princesses A Story of the New Democracy By A. Evelyn Newman HE Grand Duchy of Luxemburg lies like a jewel nestled between Prussia and Belgium. The Luxemburg bourgeoisie are a practical people; and when one of the finest divi- sions of the American Sec- ond Army marched in upon them they dismissed their schools and law courts in their seventy different little towns and straightway bil- leted the thirty thousand big foreigners as comfort- ably and hospitably as pos- sible. The Grand Duchess Charlotte herself greeted General Pershing and stood by his side on the castle balcony to review the in- coming troops, who were greeted from every window and gateway by large plac- ards on which were printed in English the words: “Welcome to Our Protectors!” It was whispered that the same beguiling device had been printed in German on just as many cards and displayed as lavishly when the Germans came through the towns. But what would one have? Small in numbers, the people must be politic. On the February morning of this story everybody in Luxemburg was content, vil- lagers and troops alike. It is true the Grand Duchess Charlotte, who had enter- tained General Pershing so lavishly, had been dethroned several days after the arrival of the Americans and had fled, weeping, to her chalet in Switzerland. Having declared a republic of one day’s duration, the leading citizenssaw thestormsand appointed the next sister, younger and prettier even than the fair Charlotte, as grand duchess. The “Watchful Waiters” on the Job HERE are one hundred soldiers main- tained by the country for the dignity of the royal house. These are exact reproduc- tions of the old-fashioned German toys that used to delight small American boys. In their shining black boots, tight knee breeches, long, full-skirted black coats, high sugar-cone hats adorned with gay red pompons, they add a picturesque touch to the scenery. When the second sister of the royal family was made duchess and took up winter residence in the old feudal castle at Colmarburg, with ten of these same soldiers as attendants, she called upon the American Chief of Staff to ask for a guard of the young Americans around the royal grounds. Probably she agreed with the A. E. F. that her soldiers were more ornamental than useful. Now the particular American unit sta- tioned at Colmarburg was young and enthusiastic. Its commanding officer, a blue- eyed major, was young also; and the royal family of young and good-looking girls— the oldest reigning princess is scarcely twenty-two—became the center of interest to one and all. Even the chaperon, a middle- aged aunt, had her share of consideration. Still beautiful, the story grew among the troops that in youth she had been of ravish- ing loveliness. The boys who were detailed for guard duty on the royal grounds were in many shifts and rather enjoyed their work. They called themselves the “‘ watchful waiters” and daily gave out information concerning the doings of their protégées. ‘The girls went riding this afternoon and they can ride, I say”; or, “They had a long-haired guy to tea, some courting fellow I’d wager”; or, “They tried to clean up the grounds a bit to-day. We almost helped them.” Such would be the daily bulletins, not posted but sent by the spoken word from headquarters down. Who Invited the Royal Party? O* THIS February morning every soldier was in holiday mood. The wave of min- strelsy and histrionic power that struck the A. E. F. soon after Armistice Day had fairly inundated this Illinois division. And to-night a group from the Colmarburg unit, a group who had been beguiling the weary time away for their companions in other villages, were to perform in the reyal theater near the castle. Suddenly consternation reigned in the headquarters office. Its cause was an embossed card delivered by the head toy soldier in waiting on the duchess. The card declared, in deli- cate feminine hand and per- fect English, that the grand duchess and her royal aunt and sisters would be pleased to accept the kind invita- tion of the American Army to their entertainment that evening. “What in heck am I to do?” cried the blue-eyed young major. ‘Who gave this invitation? We are for- bidden to fraternize with these people.” A telephone conversation with G. H. Q. (General Headquarters) soothed his nerves a little. Official ad- vice was to go ahead and let the ladies come, but watch out in the future. Then the Secret Came Out ‘Ce here, lieutenant, know anything about this invitation?” queried the major of the troop’s officer. “No, sir, but I’ve got my suspicions”; and thereupon the lieutenant made straight for the guard on duty that morning. “Slats,” he called, addressing one of his men who was visiting with the ‘ watchful waiters,” ‘know anything about this invita- tion to the duchess?” Slats was a tall, rawboned plainsman. He grinned engagingly: “‘Why, yes, lieut. You see, them girls has a pretty lonely time of it up in that old barn and, when I seed them cleaning up the grounds this morning, I says to myself, ‘They’d enjoy our show’; so I just walks over to their woman and says: ‘Ask your folks if they want to come to our show to-night up in your-all’s theater.’ She ast the time it was to be and then went over and talked to the girls a while. Soon she come back saying: ‘They’ll send word over in an hour.’”’ “Well, they’ve accepted, and you’ve got us in bad. Don’t you know they may be enemy people, and we’re forbidden to fraternize with the enemy?” “Oh, shucks now, lieut! You know them girls ain’t no enemies of ourn,’’ was the sole somewhat sheepish rejoinder of the culprit. How the Boys Acquitted Themselves J. fing an emergency meeting of the offi- cers, all the unit was assembled that afternoon and the major spoke: “Boys, some one of your tainted number had little enough sense to invite the royal family to our show to-night. They’ve ac- cepted. Now, we’re democrats and believe in equality. You are to do no different from what you’d do if five of our own American ladies visited us. When they come in to- night, just stand with hats off, till they are seated in their box; and, of course, you'll not smoke during the performance. After- ward, stand till they go. That’s all.” That night the little theater was packed early with expectant doughboys. All stood facing the one royal box in the gallery. The ladies appeared promptly. The per- formance was a’success in every way. Dur- ing the boxing contest the athletic captain sat beside the royal party, explaining the points, while the regal aunt surveyed the stage closely through her handsome lor- gnette. At the close of the performance the duchess thanked the major in the name of her family. She said that it amazed them that soldiers could be so graciously courteous and refined, as had been the audience and performers of the evening. “Everything was jake, wasn’t it?” queried Slats of his buddy, after they had partaken of schnapps and cinnamon cocoa with their friendly landlord and his still more friendly wife. “Swell,” assented his buddy; and they turned in to dreamless slumber, without further thought on their application of the principles of the New Democracy. Ap

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April, 1920 HOME JOURNAL 95 MORR Supreme Ham and Eggs Or Laster bn cakfast serve this delicious Morris - Supreme Ham, with Supreme Eggs. You kuvow this ham will be tender, mild and tempting. Our famous Supreme cure takes care of that. Have your dealer supply you these hams in our clean, white parchment paper wrapper with the yellow and black label. They cost you no more this way. MORRIS & COMPANY The secret of its delicate, mild ‘Havor is in the Supreme cure!

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4 1 j F a 4 1 i } | ; 06 HOME JOURNAL “But do you do your own ironing, Louise?” “Why, yes, Marie, I never like to trust the dainty things to any- one else and it is so ——"’ N Yes, it is easy to iron the Hotpoint way anc among the users (more than 4,000,000) you will find dozens of reasons why Hotpoint is preferred. It? may be because— — you can take the ironing to the coolest room in the house—even out on the porch. No fuel or matches to fuss with — youcan connect the cord to any convenient light socket. In a couple of minutes you begin to iron. No waiting, no walking from stove to board — when the iron is well heated you can pull out the plug (D) and continue to iron with the stored heat. The room is not heated, no holder is needed — thumb rest (A) “rests the wrist.”” This also makes it easy to guide the iron into the tucks and folds — it is called the Hotpoint because the point (C) is always hot enough for effective ironing — simply tip the Hotpoint back on the attached stand (B). No lifting; no banging. Think of lifting 6 pounds hundreds of times every ironing day! — the hinged plug (D) and wire protector reduce cord breakage to the minimum and increase the efficiency Any one of these advantages is sufficient reason why you should join the world-wide ranks of Hotpoint users. One of the 18,000 Hotpoint dealers is in your neighborhood; he is eager to help you check up these advantages. EDISON ELECTRIC APPLIANCE CO., INC. CHICAGO New York Ontario, California Atlanta In Canada, Canadian Edison Appliance Co., Ltd., Stratford, Ontario Additional Service Stations at San Francisco, Los Angeles, Portland, Seattle, Boston, Salt Lake City and Saint Louis. ‘‘ of] AUA"HHEUOUOOUUUUAOLOUEREDDULEVEODROGUOLODGOEQOOURGEOOLEQUGUDELOUDEONSDUROQEURHRORSQUQOQQEQUDRO0000000000000000008000000000 00000000000 00000000 April, 1920 EDISON NEWS NOTES The electric meter is so nearly perfect that dust and friction are the only ele- ments to interfere with its accuracy in measuring the current you use. And they both have a retarding effect, caus- ing it to register less current than actu- ally flows. When 4liscontinuing the use of your electric iron, proceed as follows; first, stop the flow of electricity by pulling out the plug (7) at the rear of the iron; then turn the switch in the lamp socket just as though turning off the light. When the supply of natural gas was temporarily cut off in one of the south- western states, electric flat irons, inverted, were used as cooking plates. Some dealers are able to supply a stand for holding the inverted iron. There is no more danger of receiving a in operating electrically heated appliances than in turning the electric light off and on. In addition to Hotpoint Appliances we also manufacture Edison Appliances and Hughes Ranges. We are the largest manu- facturers of electrically heated household appliances in the world. Ay

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ae April, 1920 T HE HOME JOURNAL -the amount of is Not Silk That Rustles (CONTINUED FROM PAGE 43) It is not a dif- ficult matter to detect the pres- ence of mineral weighting, but if weighting is to be learned the work must be assigned to the laboratory. Pure silk burns to a black, gummy ball. If you place a sample of silk in a suitable por- celain crucible and heat it to a temperature which will burn all organic material, you will find any mineral weighting in the shape of a black, brown or white residue, depending on the degree of heat used, and this mineral ash is frequently so abundant that it retains the pattern of the original sample. There have been samples of brocaded silks so heavily loaded with minerals that the ash withstood transportation by mail and was still intact in the pattern of the bro- cade upon its arrival. Tests for Silk Mixtures ILK mixtures are, of course, quite com- mon, and if you are to be sure of your pur- chase it is well to know when mixtures are being offered and of what fibers they con- sist. If it is a mixture of cultivated and wild silk there are two excellent tests which you can apply. A solution of lye (sodium hy- droxide) made by dissolving two table- spoonfuls of lye to a pint of water, upon heating will dissolve the true or cultivated silk in twelve minutes. The tussah or wild silk will not go into solution in much less than fifty minutes, while artificial silk will not dissolve at all. Hydrochloric acid of a specific gravity 1.6 dissolves true silk rapidly even in the cold, but tussah is only slightly attacked in forty-eight hours and artificial silk resists solution. Forty per cent hydrochloric acid destroys silk which is not overweighted in approxi- mately two minutes, but wool will scarcely have been affected. Where a mixture is cotton and silk, the silk may be dissolved out in a solution of lye made by dissolving one tablespoonful of the lye in a pint of water. While boiling the sample in this solution for ten or fifteen minutes, the amount of water should be kept constant by replacing that evaporated with hot water. If you will examine the residue of cotton which remains you can find some indication of how it was woven into the piece. The Detection of Fibers OU may sometimes find silk spun about a core of some inferior fiber, especially in ribbed and corded fabrics. In other in- stances the filling or “‘tram,” as it is called in the silk trade, may be of other fibers almost completely covered by the silk warp thread, or organzine. Silk “plating” is also common, the plating usually. being placed upon a cotton foundation and appearing principally in hosiery. It should be pointed out that such hosiery is usually superior to that of “‘all-silkk” at the same prices. Pon- gee should be all wild silk, but sometimes inferior cultivated silk fibers are to be This Piece of Changeable Silk, 5/2 Inches Wide and 18 Inches Long, Produced This Vial of Ash, Secured After Prolonged Heating to Bright Redness in a Porcelain Crucible Over a Bunsen Burner. The Flakes of the Ash Still Show the Weave of the Ribbon. The Amount of Organic Matter in This Sample is So Small That it Will Not Support Combustion and Might be Described as Fireproof. After Trying to Burn it You Cannot But Wonder How a Metallic Structure Can be Made So Pliable. Vial and Silk Sample Reduced One-Quarter. found woven with it. On occasion, the mix- ture of fibers has been such as to raise the point whether the goods were to be sold in the silk section or in the cotton section. Under these circumstances the great dif- ference in the price per pound of the two fibers is liable to place the merchandise in the silk section, although the percentage of silk in the goods may be very small. In connection with the detection of fibers, you will find it interesting and profitable to apply color tests which distinguish between fibers of animal and those of vegetable origin. Nitric acid, for example, will color wool and silk yellow, while cotton and linen do not change color. Picric acid has the same effect, but of course these tests are only applicable to white material. The test should be applied to fringed samples both ways of the goods and it is well to untwist the threads in order to detect any cores that may have been used. Mercerized cotton in silk may be detected by the same tests noted for ordinary cotton. You will find some “silk floss” used in bedding to be a vegetable fiber, usually kapok, which is produced in pods. Making Artificial Silk HE clouded effects in colored silks are sometimes obtained by printing a pattern upon the warp threads before they are woven. Silk may be subjected to many tests in fin- ishing, including gassing to burn off pro- truding ends which detract from the luster, wringing and stretching to soften the fabric, a dilute acid bath to produce gloss, sizing in addition to the weighting, calendering to produce a high finish, and pressing between engraved rolls to produce such an effect as that called “moiré.” For two hundred years chemists have tried to imitate silks. The first to solve the problem on anything like a commercial basis was Chardonnet, who produced a nitro- cellulose compound made by methods simi- lar to those employed in the manufacture of guncotton. This material, like all other viscous solutions used in the manufacture of artificial silk, is forced under great pressure through exceedingly small orifices, some- times produced in plastic glass by embed- ding very small wires in it and dissolving them out when the mass has cooled. The material in the case of nitrocellulose hard- ens upon coming in contact with warm air through the evap- oration of the al- cohol and ether used to dis- solve the nitro- cellulose, and at this stage in the manufacture the threads are made even finer byspin- ning before the center of the small rod has a chance to be- come hardened. The threads are given a chemical treatment to eliminate thedan- gerous -nitrogen bodies, so that in its finished form it is practically pure cellulose. It hassomestrength, it is flexible, very fine, has more luster than natural silk, and takes dyes satisfactorily. This variety of artificial silk was followed by numerous others, of which that made by dissolving some form of cellulose, such as cotton, in a cuprammonium solution, is an example. : Later a form of gelatin made into threads and treated by formaldehyde to render it insoluble was given some prominence, but it has had no commercial value. Cotton Can be Made Into Silk |e THE United States the greatest amount of artificial silk produced is that from cel- lulose in the form of cotton or wood, called “fiber silk” in the trade and “viscose” in the laboratory. The cellulose which has been purified is dissolved in caustic and carbon bisulphide. The resulting viscous material is then dissolved in water and fil- tered, after which it is forced into a setting bath composed of ammonium and sodium sulphates. In this process the compound is reconverted into cellulose. More recently cotton, another form of cellulose, has been made into artificial silk. Cotton becomes cellulose by the use of acetic anhydride and other solvents and the method of forcing the solution into a hard- ening bath is again employed. The result- ing cellulose acetate fiber seems to retain a greater percentage of its strength when wetted and to resemble the natural luster of silk more closely than other forms of the artificial material. It does not take the same dyes as those usually employed for wool and cotton, and therefore finds a par- ticular field of usefulness in weaving fancy patterns in goods. Usually artificial silk has little more than one-third the strength of real silk, and while it takes dyes well and possesses a high luster, it is somewhat less elastic and more harsh than the natural material. On the other- hand it is far better than real silk which has been cheapened by various processes. It washes well, frequently outlasting real silk, because those conditions of laundering which are harmful to the latter are far less harmful to good artificial silk. When placed in a solu- tion of lye made by dissolving two table- spoonfuls in a pint of water, artificial silks CONTINUED ON PAGE 98 ger than that used in knitting the leg. meters in length expressed in deniers. C is the silk leg with the narrowing points indicated at K. If the tension on the yarn is not properly con- trolled the area just above the narrowing points may show irregular loops in the knitting. The number of wales and courses as well as the size of the silk yarn used regulate the quality and value of the stocking. For raw silk the legal count or yarn size is expressed in the denier, a unit of five centigrams or a little less than one grain. The size is the weight of a skein of silk 450 D represents the area of the high spliced ankle. It is usually of silk with the reénforcing of a strand of cotton. E is the heel, frequently all cotton, sometimes without reénforcing thread and often of silk with a fine reenforc- ing thread of cotton. The number of wales and courses often changes in this area in order to give a structure ~ONE TYPE OF SILK STOCKING N THIS case A is a cotton welt. This welt is some- times woven of fine silk thread with an underfacing of cotton or reenforced with a strand of cotton. B is a top made of the same size of cotton thread throughout as the welt. The number of wales (as the ribs are called) is smaller, and the number of courses (as the threads running in the opposite direction are designated) is lar- transferring is indicated. standpoint of wear. that will be better able to withstand wear. The way in which the loops join along the line between the high spliced ankle and the heel, as well as between the heel and the sole, is important, and sometimes carelessness in If the seam at J, the instep, is not well made, the instep may be too high, which is a disadvantage. - The foot, F, is usually silk with the same number of wales, but a slightly larger number of courses than the silk leg. The toe, H, upon which the narrowing is shown at I, may be silk reenforced with a strand of fine cotton or all cotton, depending upon the grade of the article. It is seldom made without a reénforcing cotton thread. The sole, G, is usually constructed of the same ma- terial as the toe and heel, but of different size of yarn and sometimes heavier reenforcement. From this it is apparent that the amount of silk which you purchase in a stocking may be quite a variable quantity. The top, B, and the welt, A, are of different lengths, and stockings have been seen in which the de- sirable reenforcing threads have been entirely omitted. The proper seaming, narrowing points and uniform construction are important considerations from the Dependable Protection ~ Against — Clothes Moths Have moths ever ruined your clothes even though they were packed away carefully? This happens when moths, moth-worms or eggs are in the clothes when they are packed. '_ Brush and air garments thoroughly; | blow Black Flag (with a powder gun) | carefully over each garment before it is | put away; wrap the garments in news- {4 coresss and then pack in tight chests. oths will do no damage to garments so stored. Black Flag kills moths and moth- worms. It offers safe protection — loss of clothing or furs through the ravages of moths. Black Flag kills insects by inhalation |. —bugs don’t eat it; they breathe it, and _ die. Destroys ants, flies, fleas, bed- bugs, roaches, mosquitoes, some moths and lice on animals, birds or , plants. Non-poisonous; harmless to animals or human beings. Cannot |) stain, weaken or otherwise injure any © fabric. |, Black Flag comes in sealed glass i) bottles which keep it air-tight. “In- sect Powder” sold in paper bags or boxes (not airtight) is seldom effec- tive. Look for the Black Flag trade mark and the red-and-yellow wrapper. Sold by drug, department, grocery and hardware stores everywhere, or sent direct-by-mail on receipt of price. HE U. S. Government (Agricul- tural Department Bulletin No. 771) Proves that glass containers keep in- sect powder fresh and strong for years, and that exposure to moisture and heat destroys the killing power of insect powder. Buy Black Flag IN THE SEALED GLASS BOTTLE — not just “insect powder’’ in paper bags or boxes. BLACK FLAG BALTIMORE, MD. BLACK FLAG Three Sizes — 15¢ 40c 75c VRRRAN —Excent West of NS a Trade Mark Black Flag is NOT a Poison —— 97 * a woe bs ; i #4 i ‘ f ' ee eens

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een eee ne ne rn 98 HOME JOURNAL iar? *. + IGHT to your own home comes the World’s Star Rep- resentative. She brings to you a variety of hosiery and underwear that you could find elsewhere only after many tedious hours of shopping around. She makes it easy for you to solve your biggest buying problem. In your own home, you can select hosiery and underwear for every member of the family. You obtain merchandise that is unexcelled for quality and wear. This World’s Star Representative Is One of Thousands of Helpful Trained Saleswomen In Every Part of the Country Selling ener] World's Star orm ae] HOStery and Kean Kit Underwear you in state of perfect cleanliness. World’s Star goods have, for twenty-five years, been sold Direct from Mill to Users with the aid of our special Representatives. Hundreds of thou- sands of housewives have learned the advantages in buying direct from the maker. We are sure that you, too, will want to know the benefits afforded you by the World’s Star selling plan. Sold Only Mill Direct to User The conven- ient, econom- icalwaytobuy. You Save Money—You Save Time —You Have Greater Variety from Which to Choose—You Can Buy for the Whole Family Without Leaving Your Own Home You can select from a wonderful variety of women’s hosiery in silk, lisle, cotton or mercerized; children’s hosiery in all grades; and hosiery in cotton, wool, mercerized, lisle or silk for father and the cerized for women and girls. Then there are the dainty little suits for the children, under- garments that will stand the wear and tear of school and play time. Klean-Knit Underwear for men and boys in- boys. ; ' cludes union and two-piece suits in lisle, cotton, Klean-Knit Underwear includes all the mercerized or wool, in athletic and regular popular styles in silk, lisle, cotton or mer- styles. Garments Sterilized—Sealed in Germ-Proof, Dust-Proof Packages Every Klean-Knit Underwear Garment comes to you ina sealed, germ-proof package. It is sealed at the mill after every garment has e~=6 been sterilized with steam. Fy’ Your hands are the first to touch Klean-Knit garments after they leave the mill. e, Think what this means to yourself and wg your family—garments that have not / been touched by human hands from the time they left the mill until you receive them in your own home. World’s Star Mills— “. The greatest plant in the world making and selling hosiery and underwear direct from mill to user. Modern in every way, sanitary and healthful. Get Acquainted With the World’s Star Representative Surely, you will want to get acquainted with the World's Star Representative in your — From Mill to User, the World’s Star way, means so much to you in money-savinz and time-saving. If you do not know the Representative in yoyr vicinity, write us ind we will gladly tell you her name or ask her to call upon you It is poss le th have no representation in your locality just at this time. You may wish © Our exclusive representative. The work is pleasant, easy to learn and profitable. ! interested, send for catalog and complete information. April, 1920 BAY CITY, MICH. We Have Been In Business Here Twenty-five Years Allis Not Silk That Rustles (CONTINUED FROM PAGE 97) gelatinize at once. They are not colored by nitric and picric acids as real silk is, and the microscope can also be used for their detec- tion. Knitted silk has good heat regulating qualities when used in under-garments, and pure silk has excellent wearing qualities as demonstrated by the sorts of materials to which our grandmothers were accustomed; but perhaps one of the best recommenda- tions for silk is its cleanliness, due to the smooth fiber in both real and artificial, which offers little to which dust and bacteria may cling. Why Silk Hosiery is Costly HE established popularity of silk hosiery justifies some special comment upon that subject. The differences in fit between full- fashioned, mock-seam and seamless hose should be understood and taken into consid- eration when you make your purchases. There is also the question of whether the hosiery is silk “‘plated,’”’ as discussed above, to what extent it has been weighted, whether it is real or artificial and, in comparing prices, due consideration must be given to the amount of silk to be found in the stocking. It should be remembered that the difference in price per pound between silk and cotton is usually very great indeed, and that only a small difference in the length of the silk leg may more than account for what seems to be a great difference in price. To what extent cotton has been used in sole and heel also has an important bear- ing on the actual value of the material from the cost-of-fiber standpoint. You should not be called upon to make all these determina- tions in detail, but your merchant can be asked to supply such information and by having proper examinations made of the samples upon which his stock is purchased and then checking his purchases against the sample, the facts can be reduced to a chart or diagram such as that reproduced on page 97. These charts not only show the extent to which cotton tops, heels, soles and toes have been used, but whether the proper reénforc- ing threads have been included; they also show the breaking strength of the yarns as indicating whether they have been tendered or not, and give an indication of whether good workmanship is displayed in knitting the hosiery. Frequently so-called bargains have been subjected to this critical analysis only to find that the hose in question were either knit on bent needles, with resulting irregularities, had needle streaks which detracted from the appearance of the stock- ing, or that the reénforcing thread had been omitted from heel and toe, where it certainly should have been included. Sometimes such differences exist in the yarn used in knitting various parts of the stocking as to give a very uneven texture, and if the seaming has not been properly done, an abnormally high instep may result or other defects creep in which mean a shorter life for the article. Experience has shown that a merchant can standardize at least his principal lines of hosiery and that having once perfected this standard, a strict adherence to his specifica- tions is found to constitute a real asset. Silks in general deserve the care and at- tention which usually go with articles of value. The dyer and cleaner are frequently at a disadvantage on account of the presence of weighting or other unfamiliar materials which react with those usually employed in his processes, giving rise to unexpected dam- age and complaint. The most delicate shades sometimes decreed by fashion cannot be made as fast to light as the dyer would wish, and many of the unusual effects in silk fabrics are only obtained by processes which at best do not improve the natural wearing qualities of the silk fiber. You have seen that caustic solutions of proper strength and at the right temperature destroy silk, and this constitutes a warning against the use of strongly alkaline laundry soaps and hot water. Acids are also detrimental to silk, and the disintegration of a garment may be due to an excess of acid in the perspiration. Hence it is good economy and reasonable practice to rinse out silk stockings at the conclusion of each day’s wear. Hot irons should be especially avoided. The Best Silk Costs Money E SHOULD recognize that silk is not adaptable for all purposes, although its application is probably as extensive as any other fiber. Good silks can always be obtained if one is prepared to pay the price, and when low prices are the prime requisite, too much cannot be expected in quality. Whatever you buy, it is well to know what to expect in terms of wear, and this information can be obtained by means of good scientific meth- ods which any merchant can have applied, the results being stated in terms readily understood and interpreted. The expe- rience of some of our more progressive mer- chants, who have called in the laboratory to assist them, indicates that this control of merchandise is practical and appreciated. The Lookout on the Mountain (CONTINUED FROM PAGE 45) advocating any new plans, even those look- ing to better health for themselves and their families. .- Those who have lived year after year in the same environment without any untoward things happening to them do not realize that numerous new avenues for the approach of disease have opened up to them. Scourge More Costly Than War si influenza epidemic, which cost more American lives than the war, showed that the isolation upon which farmers have relied in the past now, for the greater part, no longer exists. Yet many of the bad re- sults of that isolation do still exist. That is why Secretary Houston, while urging that every “benefit of modern medi- cine accrue more largely to the scattered population of the rural districts,”’ points out that “formerly the urban communities were the characteristic homes of disease. They possessed all the disadvantages of concentra- tion of population without adequate sani- tary safeguards. Now no cities and very few modern towns are without substantial equip- ment in the way of pure water supplies, sew- age disposal and hospitals. They have the services of specialists and trained nurses. Very many of them provide free medical and dental clinics for people of limited means, have their schools inspected and their water and milk supplies regularly tested and safe- guarded. The rural districts still have advantages; but a vast deal remains to be done.” And the “vast deal,” those who are at close grasp with the situation insist, can be most quickly and thoroughly done by the community nurse. In the extra-cantonment zones there was a very good illustration dur- ing the war of what this nurse can accom- plish. There were thirty-two camps and can- tonments, and some naval and coast-guard stations. The reservations themselves were controlled by military authorities. Outside of the reservation a zone of about one mile in radius was under the Public Health Service. The territory covered amounted usually to twenty-five square miles or so. The Benefits of the Zone System | THIS zone intensive methods to prevent : typhoid and other diseases were carried out. In some of these zones the officers in command were so confident that malaria and mosquitoes were completely eradicated by means of drainage, clearing and the use of oil that they offered five dollars reward for the apprehension of any malaria mosquito! Outside these inner zones an area between five and seven miles in radius, sometimes extended to include cities which were not in this area at all, was under the supervision of the public health nurses. This area was so well covered by from three to six nurses in CONTINUED ON PAGE 99

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April, 1920 7? 2 & B&B Ao: & FF HOME JOURNA The Lookout on the Mountain (CONTINUED FROM PAGE 98) each instance that, when the influenza epi- demic came, all of these areas were prepared for it; none was thrown into such panic as overwhelmed most of the country, and in only two was it necessary even to call in additional nurses. In these zones, moreover, other enduring and constructive advantages were so evident that local people have in practically every case arranged to retain the nurses as soon as they pass out of the control of the Government. Thousands of Babies Were Saved O THOSE who have followed the devel- opment of health nursing in this country it becomes more and more evident that much of the progress which is being made in cities is due to the introduction of public health nursing as an integral part of public health administration. And yet it seems only yes- terday when, in New York City, the first nurses were assigned to visit tuberculosis pa- tients in their homes, report on the sanitary conditions there, and by practical instruction help combat the spread of the disease. The results achieved by this band of pio- neers exceeded all expectations, so that in a short time it was realized that in no other way could the work of the public health authorities so effectively be brought home to the people. A number of cities thereupon inaugurated similar methods in the cam- paign against infant mortality. Instead of sending doctors into tenement homes to treat sick babies, nurses were sent to visit mothers with newborn babies and teach them how to keep the babies well. One has only to glance at the infant mortality sta- tistics to realize that this change in method resulted in the saving of thousands of baby lives. Such saving in infant lives is significant, because it is proverbial that the infant mor- tality rate is the most sensitive barometer of social conditions. It is worth pointing out that in thousands of families the farmer goes on year after year in the same old way, while on the average one of every five of his babies dies before its first birthday. Yet, it is asked: “Where is the farmer who does not seek the best scientific aid he can get if one-fifth of his calves die in any year?” Contagious Diseases Kill Too Many ONTAGIOUS diseases, which are largely preventable, kill three hundred thousand American children every year and damage countless others. The death rate is almost as high in the country as in the city, although it should be vastly lower; and relatively more children suffer from diseases whose treat- ment requires the skill of a specialist in the country than in the city. Each year out of every ten farmers who die, one dies of tuber- culosis, and dies, be it remembered, in the prime of his life. Every year fifteen thousand American mothers, most of them farm mothers, die un- necessarily in childbirth because they are not educated or encouraged to seek and get proper medical care before their babies come, and because, after the childbirth, they are de- nied such care as is nearly always at the com- mand of the city mother. It is no wonder that recently one public official said that no country girl should be given a marriage contract until she has had, under an expert, the fifteen lessons of the Red Cross nursing course. A Question the Farmers are Asking | Sp paces know how much, in the way of practical education, the county agents and home demonstrators have accomplished. They are learning or they have learned that no dollar is so well invested as when it is invested in education in practical things. And many of them, having learned bitter lessons in the selective draft and in the in- fluenza epidemic are writing in to ask: “Tsn’t education in the care of the body more important than education in farming, or reading, writing and arithmetic?” Certainly it is much more economical to keep a baby from getting sick than to take care of it after it does get sick. And every farmer understands that the most expensive thing in the world is illness that keeps him or his wife from work, and that the best in- vestment in the world, therefore, is the dol- lar or the intelligence that goes to safeguard the strength to live and to work. There are other arguments; but, as a matter of fact, the best argument in the world for health is that there is no argument against it. The only real question remaining, it seems, is the means by which public health nurses can be secured to a rural community and the number and kind of nurses desired or required. On this score opinions differ. There are in the United States about seven thousand rural or community health nurses, many of whom are employed by corpora- tions. There are, as this is written, thirteen post-graduate courses and any number of nursing associations training others. The first group, completely trained, of about eight hundred, were recently available, and more are rapidly on the way to positions awaiting them. Many Opportunities for Women EANWHILE the demand from Red Cross Chapters, communities, rural or- ganizations and other agencies is increasingly great, along with the growing realization of the importance of this new and extremely vital profession for women, and promises to become steadily greater. The need is appar- ent in nearly all of the three thousand rural communities and the tremendous number of urban and town communities, and, of course, the number needed is governed in egch. in- stance by the density of population” and number of schools, by the roads, topography and other means bearing on the rapidity with which a nurse can cover an area success- fully, by the number of health agencies, and by other factors. In endeavoring to supply this need, the American Red Cross, the United States Public Health Service and various other or- ganizations are opening many excellent op- portunities to women to engage in a new profession. In my opinion this profession offers greater possibilities for women to be of service to their communities and to the nation as a whole than any other calling now open to them. Spring Blew Open the Door By William Griffith PRING blew open the door; An aspen stirred And turned about As if in doubt Of the time of day, Or so they say; And all of a sudden was something heard That rose from a sigh to a ghostly shout, As now and again In a panic the rain Went scurrying over the forest floor. A bud came out— And then a bird. Spring blew open the door; On a near-by hill A robin found A place in the sun, And all in fun Made a rollicking sound That was less than a call And more than a trill, Sinking lower and lower, And then was still. On all, on all Was the dawning grace Of a radiant face And a presence rare As the shadowy things That out of the air A dryad weaves. A rustle of leaves, A flutter of wings, A heavenly stir In the lilac tree— And a rogue of a bee ‘Caught sight of Her. So —_- So me? a FE eT os Nag Sh ee eth ‘= cae aamaneee cas Se alae Sores Stee SSS i ia Sor sees + =. = pee — a Mi iis 2.5 rierft = Sisas 7 eed aes Sh We ee — ee ppt Ps a A ee eT) as Te ~~ ss aap |piag te aaes phity Sa, ve e = o UNIVERSA A a UNIVERSAL’ Coffee Percolator No. 476 $7.75 UNIVERSAL Double Lipped Sauce Pan No. 101 $.80 UNIVERSAL Double Boiler No. 231 $2.50 UNIVERSAL Soup Strainer No. 632 $.60 UNIVERSAL Convex Kettle No. 151 $1.15 UNIVERSAL Muffin Pan No, 539 $1.50 LANDERS, FRARY & CLARK “The Trade Mark Known In Every Home’ LUMINUM WARE M es 99 Sire treatin ‘I want -you to see my Kitchen eguipped with e . a) Universal Aluminum Ware ITH UNIVERSAL Aluminum Ware gleaming from ghelf and cabinet—no wonder the modern housewife takes pride in the ‘“ workroom” of her home. Thebeauty of UNIVERSAL Aluminum Ware is merely an index to its intrinsic worth. It shines like silver— wears like steel. It cannot rust, absorb odors of cook- ing, dent easily nor crack. Above all it is sanitary— thoroughly clean and easily cleaned. UNIVERSAL. utensils are seamless. There are no cracks to collect grease and grime—no sharp comers to scrape and scrub. All cor- ners and walls are rounded; easy to wash, wipe and dry. Don’t let your old, begrimed pots and pans stand in the way of something better. Universalize your Kitchen —lighten your work and brighten your kitchen hours by using lustrous, easy-to- clean UNIVERSAL Alumi- num Ware. Department, Hardware and House- Furnishing Stores carry a complete line of UNIVERSAL Aluminum Ware. Look for the UNIVERSAL trade-mark, and the White Line on Knobs and Handles. THE TRADE MARK KNOWN | In 7 RS : Write for free booklet No. 41 41 Center Street, New Britain, Conn. 5019 rir CTT) TUPSEREKMATTY | TPRSEXI IT. SAT RR oe TRC ST x 1 SS tn ee a a Copyright 1920 by L. F.&C. oe nae ES a ee Ee eS |e a vas hee SOT wasty eteae bree = ‘e =: > =? "Ex ve Veccntcltrdivecee Wien lsenaa biter sneer Dies saves 1Uis,"Venceet a0srsBt oes Ble") iciomat = ——4 the Ty) cas) ps gE PEO , =a =a Ree ee = 2, Sey | ae TTT ii fhe wee reerriect mins if Seon he ——4

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HOME JOURNAL April, 1920 “She Phonograph with a Soul” — the letter of Dr. JOHN H. FINLEY PRESIDENT OF THE UNIVERSITY OF THE STATE OF NEW YORK NEW YorRK STATE COMMISSIONER OF EDUCATION ‘*The influence of music upon the individual has beenknown since very early times. When an evil spirit came upon Saul, David was brought to play before him until he was well. I often think of Mr. Edison as a modern David, not out slaying Goliaths, but playing with varied instruments before the world, which seems, like Saul, to be possessed at times by an evil spirit.’’ Close-up photograph of Mario Laurenti, baritone of the Metropolitan Opera Company, as the 6000 teachers saw him in the act of comparing his voice with its Re-Creation by the New Edison.

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April, 1920 LADiI€éE Ss HOME JOURNAL 101 —from an actual photograph taken in State Armory, Albany, New York, on November 25th, 1919. ‘ She Phonograph witha Soul” Hear Phonograph Achieve Triumph | 6000 Empire State Teachers HE illustration, although it is reproduced from an actual photograph, but faintly portrays the memorable scene at the State Armory in Albany, New York, on the night of November 25th, when 6000 teachers, principals and superintendents of the public schools of New York State sat spell- bound as they heard Mario Laurenti, world-famed baritone of the Metropolitan Opera Company, sing in direct comparison with the New Edison’s RE-CREATION of his magnificent voice. | greene >s stood beside the stately New Edison cabinet. His voice filled the auditorium. The audience, which at first had been a trifle tense because of the unusual nature of the proposed experiment, gradually relaxed under the magic influence of the great baritone’s artistry. Then suddenly there was a stir, a subdued murmur of surprise and a perplexed rubbing of eyes. Laurenti’s voice, undiminished in quality and beauty, continued to reach every quarter of the vast auditorium, but his lips had ceased to move. The cabinet at his side had taken up the song and was matching his voice so perfectly that the human ear could not tell when Laurenti had ceased to sing. Edison had Won Another Triumph HIS event proved that Edison’s genius has produced the phonograph of supreme real- ism. It also earned for his achievement the indorsement of one of the world’s most famous educators, Dr. John H. Finley, President of the University of the State of New York. Dr. Finley’s beautiful tribute to Mr. Edison and the latter’s new phonograph is reproduced here- with. It is doubtful if Edison’s ambition to serve humanity through the agency of music could have been more accurately divined. | Official Laboratory Model HE instrument used at Albany was a duplicate of Edison’s original Official Labo- ratory Model, on which he spent more than three million dollars in research work. The Edison dealer in your city will be glad to show you a duplicate of this orig- inal three million dollar phono- graph and he will, without quibble or question, guarantee it to be fully equal in tonal quality to the instrument used at Albany and to be capable of successfully sus- taining the test made at Albany. Let us send you our book ‘‘ Edison and Music”? and our booklet ‘*What the Critics Say.’’ ‘‘Edison and Music’”’ is written by one of Thomas A. Edison’s right-hand men. Address Thomas A.Edison, Inc., Orange, N. J.

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= | nein ete “a MRE Re ad DE ee rere ee (Ses a. mn ee eer mea 102 LAD ii! HOME JOURNAL The ‘““MONTROSS” No. 1990 —In Twin Pair Made of Simmons’ new Square Steel Tubing—Seamless, smooth and _beauti- fully finished. Exquisitely enameled in the accepted Decorative Colors. Has the Simmons patented pressed steel Noiseless Corner Locks. Easy roll- ing casters. Your choice of Twin Pair and Double Width. Specially pleasing in Twin Pair. Simmons Company, 1920 Why the Doctor *« Roe) Aovocates Jwin Leds ET a good sound sleep every night—every nerve, every muscle relaxed—and Nature will fill your body with new energy, and wake you up fit and fine. Every muscle relaxed! No one can sleep perfectly with nerves on edge or muscles tense. This is the reason why doctors are urging Twin Beds—so one sleeper will not disturb the other, or communicate a cold or other ailment. The reason, too, why you should be sure your bed is notseless. Just the little creak of a wooden bed, or the rattle of an ordinary metal bed, is enough to put the nerves on edge, even though it may not actually wake you up. ** * x The truly noztseless bed is the Simmons Metal Bed—éuz/t for sleep. Just as the truly shep-inducing spring is a Simmons Spring—a fine, resilient spring that invites the body to relax. Years ago Simmons Company established the principle of Beds and Springs 4uz/t for sleep. It is today the largest maker of fine Metal Beds and Springs in the world. It is a specialist in Twin Beds— a pioneer in that fine modern prin- ciple of a separate bed for each sleeper. * x * Simmons Metal Beds and Springs are the most sought after sleeping equipment in leading stores all over the country. The prices are little if any higher than for ordinary beds. And when you are selecting your Simmons Beds with an eye to their appearance in the room, you will see that Simmons has for the first time established Jeautiful and authoritative design in Metal Beds. Sleep is a big subject! Write us for the brochure, “What Leading Medical Journals and Health Magazines Say About Separate Beds and Sound Sleep.” Free of charge. SIMMONS COMPANY ELIZABETH ATLANTA KENOSHA SAN FRANCISCO MONTREAL (Executive Offices: Kenosha, Wis.) SIMMONS BEDS-Built forSleep PS at 2b —————_$~_»y+>—_—_ > _Y

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April, 1920 (al T HE LADBisEs HOME JOURNAL

SS ES ELD EET ALITA LEILA . _ SS i SSE eS eS td SS

E LEARNED heaps of things from the war, but one of the useful things || was that the average housewife has || lots more time than she thought she || had to devote to public service. An- other thing was that the average A) American back yard could make it- | self useful to a degree that it never dreamed of before. Now that the —— war is over, neither the housewife nor her back yard (or grounds) feels like dropping back to the old position of being just ornamental. Until the war many a commuting husband, who had patiently toted parcels and dashed for trains, never knew what it was to breakfast on freshly picked strawberries or to dine on green corn from his own garden. And to think that these delicacies were due, not to his own ability to pay bills, but to the energy of his wife or the in- dustry of his eight or ten year old! If the way toa man’s heart be through his stomach, as the old saw has it, what a revival of affection must have taken place in city and suburb due to the war- gardening activities of the wife—and nothing else! What an increase of gardening interest on the part of the commuting husband must have inevitably re- sulted when, instead of the customary suburban husband’s Saturday job of pushing the lawn mower, —~ ae

0 Se SS =z es fo} he could put in a few minutes at thinning rows of baby \W carrots, to be cooked in a state of tenderness and de- liciousness never obtained in the bought and full-grown carrot; or pull crisp radishes for his own breakfast; or look to see if the ears of corn were ripe! The whole attitude of the suburban and village housewife toward her garden has changed. A well- managed garden is now as much a credit to her ability as a housewife as is a well-appointed house. Moreover, she has come to depend on her garden to a degree that she never dreamed possible. Wherefore it happens that, as never before, the American housewife is planning how to make the garden space at her disposal permanently useful. And if she has no space of her own, if she be a flat dweller or an apartment-house inhabitant, then if she wants a garden she betakes herself to the nearest garden club, where she is fairly sure to find ready coéperation and aid in obtaining the use of all the garden space she can care for. Questions She May Answer for Herself §! IS the permanently useful garden that the 1920 housewife is planning. She will decide how best to fit her garden to the needs of her own household, and she will ask herself questions something like these— the answers each gardener may make for herself. Here are one gardener’s findings: = SESS — —— SERS _S er = == =f} oe Sh 5 S en \) Q. What crops do I most care to have close at hand— to} within easy reach? A. Salad plants, ripe tomatoes, peppers, parsley, young onions and beets, radishes, green corn. What crops were they whose care I found most tedious? Eas 2)

may be string beans in abundance when there is no one at home to pick or eat them. On the other hand, late squashes would have been ready to welcome her in September, and an asparagus bed and a strawberry bed could have been enjoyed to the full before summer was well begun; and neither would suffer from the gardener’s summer absence, for the work of each is done in the autumn. It Pays to Raise Fruit |e ete small the garden space, give some place to fruit. The care of this is easy, the enjoyment from it is much and the food value high. Plant fruit trees. First of all come the trees. If your garden needs protection from the north, or the northeast, plant a close-set row of young fruit trees, cherry or pear. These also make a charming garden boundary. They can be set close to the fence and even when quite young make a delightful background for other planting. If later they are too close, cut out those that crowd. Peach or plum or apple trees can be trained against the house wall, as is done in France or in Belgium, with lovely effect. A grapevine, properly trellised, will cover a house wall and go up past the second story. Of course the yield of grapes will not be so heavy as when it is grown in true vineyard style, severely pruned and trained to wires. But it will be as lovely a wall covering as one could desire and will yield a handsome supply of grapes besides. Grape makes a delightful pergola or arbor vine; it grows luxuriantly and is caulte nad, The best trellis is made of strips one-half inch b two inches, and the lattice square with a twaveleds mesh. It is better if the trellis stands out from the house wall eight inches or a foot. The effect is as good and the vine has more air and sunlight. Red raspberries may be kept in bounds sandwiched between rows of stout wires. The planting and care of these is very simple, a couple of mornings’ work in early spring in overalls and with stout gloves, cutting out the old canes, is all that is necessary; like blackberries, raspberries fruit on the “‘new wood.” A row of rasp- berries will make an impassable defense. against a neighbor’s cat. With but slight care they yield enor- mously and, being the most perishable of fruits, are delicious to have at hand. Quince Bushes are Decorative | age need quinces—one bush at least. They are as decorative as any of the professional lawn beauties you could choose, and that they are excellent at the preserving season is no detriment to their beauty in blossom time. Don’t plant currant bushes unless you are willing to fight the currant worm with patience, tirelessness and much hellebore. If you are equal to the conflict, currant bushes are beautiful in flower and leaf, espe- cially at fruiting time. Two or three roots of rhubarb

2 A. Potatoes, cabbages, cauliflowers, melons. \\! Q. What crops took up most space in my garden? ‘ A. Corn, potatoes, cabbages, squash, melons. (ty ee Be 8 r | Q. What crops gave slight return in comparison with the ey] Salo labor they involved? =O aaa ’ A. Cabbages, because of the cabbage worm. Melons, for eee the frost got them. (3 LS Squash ~ Q. What crops can I buy quite easily and inexpensively ? poy farly Cabbage 2 rows fis h A. Potatoes, cabbages, onions, carrots, turnips. | B_ eqs ro} Q. What prices did I pay for fruit last summer? = §! Cheken ( A. Twenty-two cents for red raspberries a 4%-quart box; 3) oJ SA ¥ 4 N 40 cents for strawberries. Mm ies hk) a ° _ & > Q ‘ hi Q. Is there any of this I can raise in my garden? =| |&9 lyr: Wd. Foy A. Strawberries, red raspberries, grapes. SES Lettuce as AN Q. When do I most want produce from my garden? Sy rows (/ ¥ A. Spring and autumn, for we go away in July and August. J s Fre ease x } cy Climbing \ The housewife who answers this catechism with N | Bead s hallowed by Peas ——} se s any degree of care will find that, if her garden is ‘ f ged Core Salad — oe I | small, it will pay her to cut out the “field crops” and S| n Rgbtarhy Begt aie ote seal 4 chicken |. \ devote the garden oe to the higher-priced vege- a | 8 ks iivons followed by — House }° ‘\ tables that need the handwork she has to give all her 3 |* R(oyotowed 5p 409 Gree _ $ ro) crops. Suppose she goes away in the summer? Then S ‘Ni? Jomatocs A) the potatoes she has planted with care will suffer for Sah tes Strawke 4 \ aay ; , ; (is Cee Ho pty G. ni lack of hilling and spraying at the right time, and there ~ ee & Zolips and Narcissus ‘arage RP OYTIN ¥ : & Na ; - NN 400" : = —— st C ): a : Hollyhocks Gate oe” > ’ 4 &. + of 2 Crm (DD na Si “Si. )w 38 % *. T T = x 7 ~¥ me || s y 183 2] &.: ¢ K Gt } Say ¥ Sa, x A Shi ® S| 3/88 SS [ake] & : rs po} 3|| 8 33} | Ss y Pf} « ¢ $ ; Mi sg Sal [jalan jaesisS] $s ls Ef || & = ~~ + SS aS 3 § ¢ 8 Sl House € Md { &| & . $8 wvss, | Mosie os} Ck 2 ee 0 % R & 2 Ss Qyz sits 8 i? * +O} aL’ BS SSE ss Ss g Qq = i Driveway () S| [838s] [Sssse [Seee] gp ~ or . & yeyepeyeye 2 S\evsi6i 0" bh Lasuesy2, © : 5 Flowers _| |_Flowers y Ss $ 4 “: . Walk $ | & § ©, Any fram “ PM PRs ae r Si A Herb } ; Ts mi re i Gate: * ? i rate Bed _\ 75'0" —

War Gardens on a Peace Basis By Frances Duncan will yield a goodly number of pies and stewed fruit and, once planted, require little care. So much for the permanent planting. The Secret of Growing Salad Plants EXT in convenience for the housewife come salads. There are corn salad, endive, lettuce of various kinds, young onions, radishes—these are much relished fresh from the garden. With the aid of a cold frame or a hotbed it is not difficult to have salad from one’s own garden from March to December. The secret of growing delicious salad plants is to plant a variety and to make small sowings at frequent intervals so that if one lot suffers from drought or the neighbors’ hens the next lot may chance on perfect conditions. Lettuce for salad may be grown closely and the thinnings (the baby plants pulled out because of crowding) may be devoted to the salad bowl. Wher- ever is space in the garden when other plants have been gathered, sow lettuce or radish or endive. Young onions grown from onion sets are the joy of the ama- teur gardener. The sets are bought by the quart in the spring, may be planted closely, grow rapidly and are much liked for salad and flavoring soups. The green stalks may be used as well as the bulbs. Growing tomatoes from seed requires both skill and a hotbed. The ayerage housewife will find it far more convenient to buy a dozen plants at setting-out time— in late May—than to raise them herself. The care of peppers and of eggplant is much the same as that of tomatoes. All these need to be staked, all need hotbed beginnings and all are usually easily bought at the planting-out stage. Peppers and eggplant and to- matoes are decorative and besides the care required in training to the stakes need the services of the gar- dener but little and give abundant reward. How to Arrange a Cold Frame I YOUR garden space is small, have a cold frame or a hotbed, or even one or two “pony frames.” The use of what is called ‘garden glass’’ doesn’t mean that one is “going in” for elaborate gardening and hot- house achievements, but any sort of “‘glass,’’ even if it be as rudimentary as old window sashes used to cover boxes, simplifies appreciably the work and diminishes the risk to the gardener’s young plants. It makes the starting of plants much easier. It is to the window-box method as cooking by a gas stove is to the use of the temperamental old-fashioned wood cookstove. It means that neither early frosts nor late frosts will give you much anxiety, for the seedlings may stay in the kind shelter of the cold frame until planting in the open is assuredly safe. They can enjoy all the benefits of the open and have the sash on any night that a freeze threatens. Moreover, the garden season in the North is extended almost four months— two at each end—and when the garden space is small this time extension is of great value. All that is necessary to make a cold frame is that the frame fit the sash, which must lie on it evenly, and that the frame be raised so that it slopes toward the south. It should be a foot higher at the back than at the front. It should be set in a sheltered, sunny place. In the cold frame one can grow lettuce, radishes, beans, beets and start celery, tomato, cabbage, melons and Lima beans. In summer, with a lath screen instead of the glass sash, the salad plants can be kept at their preferred temperature. With a cold frame for first aid, with fruit trees, an herb bed, a strawberry patch and an asparagus bed, the modern housewife has a fair start toward supplying her larder. For the rest, she grows peas, beans, spinach, kohl-rabi or Swiss chard, beets, cauliflower or cabbage, sandwiching in between the rows second crops as soon as the first are harvested; cucumbers, if she wants pickles—no matter what space they take— or squash if she wants pies. The garden becomes a very present help when sud- den demands are made on the larder, an inspiration in planning meals for the household. n America the war garden has gone, but the well- stocked kitchen garden has come to stay.

le — 40'0* 6) et Winter Appa grown on Esptihens | Sw, £ Daffodils-Crocus ett. Plant Lahhias in May lo follow”. g 3 ; io wl ti yy? S z ¥ oa zs 8 Ss’ & @ S| 1S. 1 188/93 ES]. anes 5 8] 13h y Ses Bl sheaz, [8 s is see sy S oN $s & 8 Bs gleles S83 Ss 3 SENS FS IS \b35 (SE SECT ET ySS 1g SS eral |S aaah Tas eaes Fe 8 $4.8 8S SS GA s * <e So Loe Led so-lar orto we Fo \g & | Lary Flowering Bulbs -Toljps-Narcissus- Daffodil, — ’ *&.Crape Vings on Trelis as. boundary Sala a

A Small Garden, Twenty-five by Forty Feet, Will Reduce the Cost of Living Materially, and it’s an Easy Plan

A Quarter-Acre Suburban Yard and Garden. The Best Features of War Gardens Retained

This Garden Owner is Away During July and August, but the Garden Solves the H. C. L. From September to July

GSB ANN oe SRY SIN DRY 103 ) Sm} se —- —_ SS GS — Ea = et I ZN S_ es St t= ss SSS tt ——— Se ETS we ae SSS =5 Sa Ss eae Se SO SAO S_ = i (oa 0 ae ee eo ee eee — — = arn =o St 7 ii - = — —— — a eae ae ee ——— Se ee Oe a SSE TRESS SB EB SS S_O 2}

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104

T H E HOME JOURNAL

IN GOLDEN OAK OR SNOW-WHITE ENAMEL )

ie a —

\ XS <r. Rounded corners inside and out and smooth sur- faces, as shown in cabinet illustration above, actually do away with 78 dust-catching corners, Actually eliminates 78 dust-catching corners

The construction of the Kitchen Maid is altogether unlike any kitchen cabinet you ever saw—it is the result of thoughtful con- sideration for the sanitation and cleanliness of your kitchen. Every woman quickly ap- preciates the advantages of the Kitchen Maid in comparison with the ordinary cabinet. Every modern kitchen cabinet conven- ience with two exclusive advantages Interior corners of the Kitchen Maid are rounded—dust-proof. All surfaces inside and out are perfectly smooth, with no panels or moldings to catch and hold dust and grease. There isn’t a single place for dirt to hide. So easy to keep always sweet and clean. You owe it to yourself to judge fairly the distinctive advantages of this splendid cab- inet. If you do not know the Kitchen Maid dealer in your town,write us—we'll gladly send his name together with our descriptive literature. Address Dept. L-4.

Wasmuth-Endicott Company, Andrews, Ind. LET THE KITCHEN MAID BE YOUR KITCHEN AID

April, 1920

The Home Medicine Chest By Mary E. Bayley, Registered Nurse LEXANDER POPE was wrong,’ said Doctor Beebe. “He should have said: ‘Man never is, but always to be’ cured.” The occasion for his re- mark was a review of my ym friend’s medicine chest. » | She had asked the doctor, | while he was paying a ii call, to go through it @ and tell her what to keep and what to eliminate. After discard- ing first one medicine and then another, he turned to her and said: “There is only one safe rule to follow, Mrs. Williams. Do not experiment with the unknown. Never have

any appliance or any medicine which in case . of emergency you do not know how to use. Follow this rule, and your medicine cabinet will not cause you more trouble when trouble comes.” In other words, be very sure that you know the use of a thing before giving it a place in your cabinet. The family medicine chest means, as its name signifies, that it is for the use of the entire family. This being the case, every adult member should not only know each article, but also its use. Children should be inspired with that wholesome fear which impels them to leave it severely alone. Materials and Appliances Needed UST what should be the equipment of the home medicine cabinet? First, let us take the materials and appliances. They are: Absorbent cotton; sterile gauze; oiled silk; hot-water bag; ice bag; medicine dropper; medicine glass; graduate measur- ing glass (for solutions); soft-rubber ear syringe; fountain syringe; small basin (kidney shape); clinical thermometer; package of wooden tongue depsessors; pack- age of wooden applicators; small dressing forceps; bandages—two-inch and __four- inch; adhesive plaster; corkscrew; __nail- brush; safety pins. I include in this list the medicine glass, because spoons are inaccu- rate measures for medicines. The oiled silk is very necessary when applying hot com- presses. It not only helps to retain the heat, but prevents the water from leaking through. Wooden tongue depressors are useful in many ways. They are primarily intended for examining throats—that is, for holding the tongue down while looking at the throat. After using one of these it should be broken in half and burned. Most households use a teaspoon for this purpose. This is, however, very insanitary since, unless care is exer- cised and the spoon boiled, the sore throat or bad cold may pass to others of the family. A wooden tongue depressor may also be used as a spatula in applying salve. The wooden applicators are little, round wooden sticks, rather long. When a little absorbent cotton is wrapped around one end, the applicator may be used as a brush in applying iodine to a wound or for such other purposes as may arise. As to salves and ointments, there should be: Zinc oxide; ichthyol (20%); lanolin; petrolatum; cold cream. Zinc oxide is val- uable for healing abrasions and cold sores. Ichthyol ointment is used for reducing in- flammation. Ointments should be kept either in small round jars or in tubes. The necessary crystals and powders are: Talcum powder; bicarbonate of soda; bo- racic acid; Epsom salts. With the exception of the talcum powder these are best kept in wide-mouth bottles with glass stoppers. The time-honored flaxseed and powdered mus- tard, used for poultices, should also have a place among these. Medicines to Use Internally HE worth-while internal medicines con- sist of: Castor oil; cascara sagrada; pet- rolatum; milk of magnesia; olive oil; calomel; Seidlitz powder; aromatic spirits of ammonia; sirup of ipecac; sweet spirits of niter; peppermint water; quinine pills (if living in malarial section); brandy or whisky; soda-mint tablets; limewater. The first five remedies are used for the home treatment of constipation or as a laxa- tive. Milk of magnesia is best for infants, and castor oil for children from three to ten years. If constipation persists, lose no time in calling in a physician. Everyone knows the use of calomel and the Seidlitz powder. They should not be taken promiscuously. Aromatic spirits of ammonia is used for fainting, nausea or nervousness. Sirup of ipecac is useful in producing free vomiting in children with croup, when there is spas- modic closure of the glottis. Sweet spirits of niter is sometimes given to children to break up fever or cold. Peppermint water is used for colic of infants. Quinine is the specific remedy against malarial infection. Brandy is a stimulant. Soda-mint tablets are for indigestion. Limewater is a gastric sedative. It is often added to milk and, by preventing curdling in large lumps, aids in its digestion. When combined with olive oil in equal parts, carron oil is formed, which is an excellent dressing for burns. Too much emphasis cannot be placed on the statement that the family medicine chest should not contain “headache reme- dies.” Most headache remedies are heart de- pressants; they generally contain caffeine, phenacetin or acetanilid. All these drugs are powerful and dangerous. Headache is by no means an ordinary ailment. It should not be treated by headache medicines se- cured at random or by home remedies. Re- curring headaches always demand the advice of a physician. Medicines for External Use OR external use the cabinet should con- tain: Alcohol; witch hazel; spirits ofcam- phor; hydrogen dioxide; turpentine; tincture of iodine; antiseptic mouth wash; Dobell’s solution; collodion. The uses of the first five are well known. Tincture of iodine is used externally as a counterirritant and also as a disinfectant to wounds. It should be applied with a cotton swab or a camel’s-hair brush. When extreme burning follows, the application should be’ washed off with alcohol. Dobell’s solution is an efficient gargle for mild sore throat. Collodion is used for painting over small cuts or sores. It makes an excellent cover- ing while healing is taking place. Carbolic acid, king of the known chemical disinfectants, is in a class all by itself. It has many uses in the household, not the least of which is cleaning the mouthpiece of the telephone with a 1-40 solution, thereby avoiding many a trying cold. As carbolic is such a deadly poison, it should be made into - a solution of 1-20 (1 part carbolic to 19 parts water), which would be approximately 124% drams of carbolic to one quart of water. From this as a stock weaker solu- tions can be made. Carbolic should always be mixed with very hot water, otherwise globules of the acid may remain undissolved and any one of these will burn living tissue. All bottles containing poisons such as iodine or carbolic should be very small dark bottles with glass stoppers. Each should bear a red label marked ‘‘ Poison,” and they should be kept on the top shelf. How to Chart Poisons and Antidotes X& DANGEROUS and poisonous drugs often find their way into the family medicine chest, there should be pasted on the inside of its door a chart with a list of the common poisons and their antidotes. The poisons commonly taken in mistake and the most accessible antidotes are: Oprum: Often taken in the form of paregoric or laudanum; antidote, black coffee. Ammonia: Dilute acids such as vinegar or lemon juice; also milk or oils. IopINE: Starch or flour mixed with water. SUGAR OF LEAD: Lemon juice or white of an egg. STRYCHNINE: Strong tea. ARSENIC: Often mistakenly taken in form of Fowler’s solution; antidote, demulcent drinks—oils. AtcoHoL: Produce vomiting if possible; coffee, inhalation of ammonia, cold to head, heat to extremities. Oxatic Acip: Frequently mistaken for Epsom salts; limewater or milk. Carpotic Acip: Alcohol. A safe rule to follow in taking medicines, and one which will never fail, is to read the label on a bottle three times before taking the medicine: First, in selecting the bottle with the eye; second, after taking the bottle in the hand; third, after pouring out the medicine to be taken. In pouring medicine, hold the bottle in the right hand and pour from the side away from the label. If the cork is removed by grasping it in the bend of the little finger of the left hand—where it can be held while pouring out the medicine—it will neither be lost nor will it gather dust.

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HOME JOURNAL HAS THE C1 3d By. BONY ENY-N BD OFANY BRAND OF _ SALAD & COOKING ie OIL Me > athe este + err it. ¥ THE PURE OIL FROM GOLD RAUTIFUELY illus i ae | ee rd or FRYING cob Pais sa ookeiee Sistyetohe ee as eck nae ee 2.for SHORTENING so eebActora Hott Mew York. .Sent Free. Write today. S. for SALADS wei lieO'poricl’New York ty : Ny . fs 4 i

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106 HOME JOURNAL April, 1920 The ideal way of washing delicate things is the way the Eden washes everything ‘@he Eden has many essential features found in no other washer THE woman who takes delight in an abundance of spotless clothes—fluffy blankets —immaculate linens—knows that every feature of her EDEN washer contributes toward these perfect results. The Eden Sediment Zone is one of many exclusive improvements that make Eden-washed clothes so clean, sweet and pure. The dirt as it is washed out of the clothes settles in the Sediment Zone, leaving the wash-water clean and sanitary. The dirt is not flushed back and forth through your things in the Eden. The Automatic Motor Release, the Safety Interlock- ing, Swinging Wringer, the Self-oiling System, the Sanitary Zinc Cylinder with Doors that always Stop on Top, the Fully Enclosed Moving Parts—without belts, cog wheels or bicycle chains—are some of the features of the Eden construction that have made the Eden the ideal washer for the home. These are all essential things in the washer you buy. The Eden is built to last a lifetime. Eight years of successful operation lie behind its guarantee. Ask the Eden dealer for a free trial in your own home on your own washing— without cost or obligation. Buy if you like and pay as you save. Send for our book, “An Eden in the Home,” beau- tifully illustrated in color, free on request. Ay ‘BROKAW-EDEN COMPANY New York > Saint Louis “Denver Sanfrancisco y ° uee Ms « FACTORIES AT LOWELL MASS. AND ALTON iLL.

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April, 1920 T H SE RADI E S HOME JOURNA Bottle Feeding a Cause of Bowlegs By Dr. Leonard Keene Hirshberg far cry from straight mother’s milk to crooked toes and bowlegs, yet the intimacy and relation- ship are as close as life and death. This was the strange lullaby the Negro mammies of the South used to sing a generation ago: |: MIGHT seem a ‘*Bowlegs and crooked toes; That’s the way the Negro grows.” The physiological truth in this folk song hinges on the fact that the colored mammies played the part of wet nurses to the white folks’ babies, while the little pickaninnies were forced to subsist on artificial foods and cow’s milk. The use of artificial foods, deficient in animal fat, vitamines, lime and phosphorus, produces softness of infant bones and the malady of rickets. Undernourished children and those deprived of human breast milk, or fed exclusively upon defective breast milk, whether they are white, black, red or yellow, may have bones so soft as to cause bowlegs and the various other rickety de- formities, such as pigeon toes, squab breasts, “rickety rosaries,’ as knobbed ribs are called, and knock-knees. The malady of rickets may assert its un- welcome presence by perspiration of the scalp and a bald spot on baby’s head, where it rests upon the pillow, or it may also show as mere restlessness, gritting the teeth and other minor signs of irritability, often wrongly blamed on the eternal scapegoat, “‘ teething.” Then the alert parent and painstaking doc- tor will order animal fats, fresh cod-liver oil, limewater and phosphates or, better, breast milk from a healthy wet nurse. Early Walking Does Not Cause Bowlegs HESE early signs of rickets, if ignored and not taken before the flood, lead on to bowlegs and other bony distortions. Since, however, they are the warnings of the lack of certain vitamines, improved nourish- ment will correct the trouble and strengthen the lime and phosphorus contents of the bones. The well-nigh universal opinion that a child, if allowed to walk too soon, will be- come bowlegged has as little truth in it as most generalities, theories and popular be- liefs. The impulse or instinct to stand up on its hind legs is inherent in the child. The baby may not begin to do so until near its second year, or, as is occasionally the experience, it may walk without crawling as early as eight or ten months. Usually, however, it is after the first year, and by its own and unaided movements, that a baby begins to try to walk. Children rarely need to be urged to stand upon their feet. In fact, an infant should not be placed upon its feet, as a rule, except when it struggles to get upon them itself. Bowlegs do not come from too early attempts to walk unless the signs of rickets, scurvy or some similar nutritional defect are present. Happily, however, many instances of bowlegs—a mild degree of which is cam- mon in thousands of families—right them- selves as the food and drink of the infant become more varied. In the course of the child’s growth, bow- legs of mild degree should readjust their contour to the normal shape. Do not, how- ever, be too sanguine, but consult a capable medical architect. Rebuilding may be as necessary from without as from within. Braces, massage and other means, surgical or mechanical, are now available to elimi- nate this one-time abomination. Babies May Starve Though Well Fed OVING mothers and doting grandmothers sometimes see hunger in infants as often as some folks see ghosts in graveyards. It is, indeed, an ungrateful task to seek to show a elders that such signs as perspiration, bald patches where the infant’s head rubs the pillow, thick joints and thick bones, bowlegs, knock-knees, turned-in toes and other multi- tudinous testimony of rickets, indicate—de- spite the huge quantity of food consumed— that the child is af- flicted with a type of starvation. That is to say, babies, even when fed to excess, may either through some inherited deficiency of certain structures, such as the parathyroid or other glands, orthroughsome essential ingredients of the rations fed them— vitamines, lime, phosphorus—be literally fasting when fed a feast. In consequence, the‘‘ simple child that lightly draws itsbreath, and feels its life in every limb’ may be reared and raised successfully to escape death, and still in health and efficiency that unfortu- nate child may be a blot upon the boasting escutcheon of the grandmother who has raised dozens “without any of this new- fangled advice.” The Essential Things pe woe must have lime, oil and phos- phorus, yet overfed youngsters often lack these essentials. The sirup of the lactophos- phate of lime, served in teaspoonful doses with cream of pure—nonalcoholized—cod- liver oil, is occasionally an adjunct to con- densed milk and phosphorus. To be sure, asparagus tips, spinach, prune juice and carrot juice are ambrosia in this respect and fill the need of lime in the system very much better than drugs. Moreover, fresh fruit and vegetable juices contain the vital elements called vitamines, which are absent in rickets, scurvy and other overfed starvation ailments. Limewater in the infant’s pabulum has a duplicate virtue. It yields the little one both lime and an alkaline mineral water. Thus it serves to combat the dread specter of dia- betes and adult nutritional disorder called “acidosis,” which, let me again emphasize, has nothing whatsoever to do with that conjured-up bugaboo and man of straw called ‘acid condition” or ‘uric acid” that we are constantly hearing about. Besides the two lime medicines mentioned and those present in fruits and vegetables, other forms are to be had with a doctor’s prescription, as well as a little thyroid or adrenal gland, to help the child’s flagging tissues. Although in some cases it has done no good so far as others have found, thymus gland, since it is harmless, may be given to children with rickets. Aside from the grave error of putting little fellows to bed with older children, rickets and like maladies are invited by an overtax placed upon the youngsters’ fabric by keep- ing them awake beyond 6:30 p. m. It can- not be too emphatically stated that it is certain that most children are better nour- ished and nearer normal the earlier they are put to bed, even in hot weather. Air, Exercise and Diet ENTILATION, fresh air, sunlight, mus- cular animation, the daily bath and out- door exercise are essential, while human milk, fresh country butter, eggs, vegetables, cereals and fruit, boiled water alternated at intervals with some pure, germ-free mineral water, and vegetable soups and gruel should as a diet be begun earlier than with normal, healthy infants. Notwithstanding this, any deformities or misplacements of bones and joints should be carefully studied and taken care of by some- one particularly devoted to this work, namely, an orthopedic surgeon. While it is seldom necessary to apply an instrument to correct any of these conditions, it is often demanded that the specialist employ mas- sage, manipulation and electricity to restore knock-knees or bowlegs to the erect, upright position. 107 Glistening Teeth Are Seen Everywhere Now —This is Why All Statements A pproved by High Dental Authorities Look about you and you'll see many white teeth nowadays—teeth that glisten as teeth should. Ask about them and you will gen- erally find, we think, that they are brushed with Pepsodent. Millions of teeth are now brushed in this new way. All over America leading dentists are advising it. And thousands of new people start it daily by writing for a 10-Day Tube. This is to urge, for your sake and your family’s sake, that you learn what this method means. It Combats the Film There forms on teeth a viscous film. You can feel it with your tongue. That film is now known to be the Teeth’s great enemy—the cause of most tooth troubles. It clings to teeth, enters crevices and stays. Careful people have it removed by periodic cleaning in a dentist’s chair. But between those cleanings it may do a ceaseless damage. And film-coated teeth lose their luster. How It Ruins Teeth That film is what discolors—not the teeth. It is the basis of tartar. It holds food substance which fer- ments and forms acid. It holds the acid in contact with the teeth to cause decay. Millions of germs breed in it, and they cause many troubles, local and internal. Dentists long have known this. Now dental science, after years of searching, has found a way to fight film. Able authorities have proved this beyond question by clinical and laboratory tests. The method is now embodied in a dentifrice called Pepsodent. And the use has spread, through den- tists and through home tests, until millions of teeth are now benefited by it. Watch the Quick Results A 10-Day Tube of Pepsodent is now sent free to anyone who asks. Get it and watch the results. Then read the reasons for them in the book we send. Judge for yourself what this new way means. Pepsodent is based on pepsin, the digestant of albumin. The film is albuminous matter. The object of Pepsodent is to dissolve it, then to day by day combat it. A new discovery has made pepsin possible. Pepsin must be activated, and the usual agent is an acid harm- ful to the teeth. But now a harm- less activating method has been found. Now active pepsin can be constantly applied, and forced by the brush where the film goes. Combined with pepsin are two other recognized essentials. Nu- merous authorities assert that in this tooth paste modern require- ments are met. So Pepsodent acts in three important ways, all in ac- cord with the new ideas. Let it prove itself. The results are quick and apparent. They need no argument. Send the coupon for a 10-Day Tube. Let the clear effects decide what is best for you and yours. There are few things more important than clean, white, filmlessteeth. Cut out the coupon so you won’t forget. Pepsadent REG. U.S. The New-Day Dentifrice A scientific film combatant, combined with two other modern requisites. Now advised by leading dentists everywhere, and supplied by druggists in large tubes. You Will Soon Know Note how clean the teeth feel after using. Mark the absence of the viscous film. See how the teeth whiten as the fixed film disappears. You will soon realize the need for Pepsodent. So ee ee oe oe a ae a came me NO eye oe eu mem 323 10-Day Tube Free |! THE PEPSODENT COMPANY, ! Dept. 146, 1104 S. Wabash Ave., Chicago, Ill. Mail 10-Day Tube of Pepsodent to } | | | | | | | |

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108 HOME JOURNAL April, 1929 2 3 LY ® together’. PS Shall I tell you how I became a professional woman ?”’ AS6 HE had said, ‘‘You know, good style and good health go I had asked her to call because two people had recommended her, for two different reasons—my doctor, to whom I had been complaining of constant fatigue, and my best friend, whom I had been envying for her smart figure. So naturally I was interested in my caller’s story. ‘‘A few years ago,”’ she said, ‘‘I was all run down. My husband had been unfortunate in business, and I was doing all my own housework and taking care of three children. I was always tired, had headaches and my youthful appearance was going, to say nothing of my disposition. si E told me I needed two things; First, to leave my housework, get out and meet more people, find a new interest in life; and second, that I ought to wear a supporting corset. He said I had ‘ptosis’. “DP TOSIS really means a sagging of the abdominal walls. More than half the women of today suffer from ptosis. It is due to flabby abdominal muscles and faulty posture. It affects the entire system, leading to poor digestion, poor complexion, backache, headache and sometimes more serious troubles. “He explained that the remedy was simple —instead of wearing an ordinary ready-made corset, I needed one built specially for me, and which would gently but firmly bring my figure back to the normal, erect posture. In addition I needed an abdominal support. I protested and said I wouldn’t wear any stiff clumsy thing that would make me feel like a cripple. He laughed and said, ‘Of course not; why should you?’ Then he told me about the Spencer Rejuveno Corset, which combines a stylish, made-to-order dress corset with a scientific abdominal support. “AS there was no corsetiére in the city, I wrote directly to New Haven for the ad- dress of the nearest one. In a few weeks after I had begun to wear the new corset my back- aches and headaches were gone, and gone for good. Never have I felt so vigorous as I do today. And my figure is back to what it was when I graduated from school”. As I looked at her trim lines and good style, I found it hard to believe that she had three children and household cares. And that led me to ask: “But about the first part of the doctor’s advice, that you get away from your house- work, and—” ———, Rejuveno Finally, I went to a doctor. “Oh yes,” she said, “Why, the Spencer Corset was the solution of that too. I wrote to the manufacturers and the supervisor for this territory called on me; as a result I be- came the Spencer Corsetiére here. a "TRY gave me a special course of training for the work. “And my work hardly seems like work. Most of my clients are so pleased with their corsets that they give me the names of several friends. I am regarded as a capable assistant by almost all of the best doctors. “And that brings me back to my remark that good health and good style go together. The abdominal supporting corset is just a spe- cialty. The Spencer Corset itself is a real dress corset, either front or back lace. It is never sold in stores or from a catalog. It is truly custom-made. We actually create a special de- sign for each client, working from complete measurements and a careful description of her figure. 2 HIS means that your corset does not merely fit, but corrects your lines to correspond with the latest style. And it is the latest style, because it is made only a week before you put it on. “Don’t you think I am entitled to call my- self a professional woman? I earn my living. Many of my clients come to me through doctors. I help women to regain their health and get back their youthful figure, and I save them money. “For the Spencer Corset is not only moder- ate in price, but it actually saves enough on your outer garments to pay for itself many times over, because it is guaranteed to hold its shape, and therefore makes your suits and dresses keep their style much longer.” i viuntit i REG. U. S. PAT. OFF. Made by The Berger Brothers Company, 141 Derby Ave., New Haven, Con- necticut. If you do not find their representative in your telephone book under the ? listing ‘‘Spencer Corsetiere,’ write direct to the company for her address. The Moreton Mystery (CONTINUED FROM PAGE 27) Parker looked at his watch. “Twenty-five minutes to nine; I’ll go back to the house. The coroner ought to be along in a few minutes.” Jowett shoved some tools from a bench. “Why not wait here,” he returned. “I’m going too; I confess I’m tired.” Parker sat down. “It always irritates me when I can’t place a face. I’m certain I’ve seen Holt before, but I can’t grasp the con- nection. You know a deal about sporting events; Holt’s the pugilist type; have you ever seen him in the ring?” “No; I’d remember him if I had. I never saw him until I came here yesterday. He ought to be easily traced; he’s too physically perfect a specimen to escape notice. I agree with what you said this morning, that he’s a fool to run.” Jowett’s answer surprised Parker. “I fancy he’s not run very far.” “In hiding, near by, you think?” The quite new idea that Holt was in the neigh- borhood, possibly hidden somewhere by Nixie, gave sharpness to Parker’s question. Perhaps Jowett guessed Parker’s thoughts; at any rate he spoke next of Nixie. ‘Irom that memorandum on Moreton’s desk, he’s evidently been trying to hunt up Miss Allen’s parentage. That must have been the job he was going to put me on. What’s her history, Mr. Parker—how did Moreton come to take her into his family?” “T don’t know much about the circum- stances,” Parker replied. ‘‘She’s been with them since she was a child, I believe. The fact is, I know almost as little as you do about the Moreton family. This is the first time I’ve ever been in their home; it’s all about as new to me as it is to you.” Jowett’s lips twitched slightly. Then he straightened and pointed: ‘There they come!” He looked keenly at the two auto- mobiles which were circling the driveway. Then he asked abruptly: ‘‘What’s the cor- oner’s name?” “Henry—William Henry.” Jowett whistled softly. “‘Why—do you know him?” Parker asked. “T didn’t connect him with Ford’s Land- ing,” Jowett answered somewhat absently, his eyes fixed on the man who was driving the foremost automobile. Then withdecision: “Vou bet I know—of him. Come on, Mr. Parker; we’ll see now what we shall see.” XI HILE the coroner and his jury were busied in the study, the household collected in the library, the servants hang- ing back in a group near the hall door. Ina few moments Mrs. Moreton appeared, lean- ing on Mrs. Insmann’s arm and with a maid in attendance bearing a black-edged hand- kerchief and a bottle of smelling salts. Doc- tor Levene came out to Mrs. Moreton and helped her to a chair. Nixie was the last to appear. She stood apart, her full lips tight set. When she came in Driscoll, who was standing beside Parker and Jowett, started toward her, but a veritable blaze lifted in Nixie’s eyes. Driscoll dropped back, and Parker heard him sigh. Burke was the only person who approached Nixie; the coroner had ordered chairs to be brought into the study, and, as Burke passed her carrying a chair, he stopped and spoke to her and she nodded. When the entire household had collected, Parker went into the study and gave the coroner both Holt’s letter to him and the in- closure. Parker explained briefly, and the coroner said with surprise: ‘‘He went and left this?” He read Holt’s letter to Parker, then the letter addressed to himself, while Parker studied him keenly. He was a medium-sized man, rather frail looking and slightly stooped, with a sparse, closely cut beard and weak, spectacled eyes. Parker had glanced the jury over; they were plainly dressed men, none too intelligent looking, evidently citi- zens of Ford’s Landing. HE coroner folded the letter. “I must talk with the jury about this,” he said gravely. “This man, Holt, certainly cannot be reached to-day nor for several days. He has given an address, but it is at a distance. He has made what seems like a complete statement, however. Doctor Levene spoke of you, Mr. Parker; you were Mr. Moreton’s lawyer—what would you do in my place?” “T think it is a matter for you to decide, Mr. Henry. There certainly are those pres- ent who can identify Holt’s signature, and Miss Allen was with Holt when the discovery was made, so there is one witness present who can give an account of it,” “Yes, so I understand. I shall proceed with the inquest. I shall be glad of any suggestions you can offer, Mr. Parker.” ‘“‘T have none to offer, Mr. Henry.” A few minutes later, at the coroner’s re- quest, they all filed in, the family taking the foremost row of chairs in ‘the semicircle which was so disposed that every one in the room would face the coroner and Moreton’s covered body. The coroner had placed a table before his own chair and had grouped the jury. Parker chose the end seat of the semicircle; by turning slightly he could see every face in the room. And, perhaps with the same motive, Jowett took the seat next to Parker. Doctor Levene had guided Mrs. Moreton to the other end of the semicircle. He sat beside her and her maid sat just behind her. The servants came in last, and Parker no- ticed that Burke slipped into the chair be- hind Nixie. HERE was silence while the coroner ar- ranged the papers on his table. Finally he looked up and by a few precise questions established the fact that the entire household and every employee about the place, with the exception of the chauffeur, were now present. Then he lifted a paper. ‘“T have here a communication from Harry Holt, the chauf- feur; is there any one here who knows Harry Holt’s writing?” There was silence. Then a woman’s steady voice answered: ‘“T know it. I have often seen garage accounts he made out for Mr. Moreton.” It was Nixie who had answered. ‘“What is your name and your position in the family?” the coroner asked. “My name is Nixola Allen. I—Mr. More- ton always treated me like a member of the family. I have lived seven years with Mr. and Mrs. Moreton ——” “Nixie was Uncle Mathew’s ward,” Dris- coll interrupted sharply. ‘My uncle treated her as he would a daughter.”’ “T see. Will you look at this signature, Miss Allen?” Nixie rose and walked to the table, glanced at the folded sheet the coroner held out to her and said firmly: “Yes, that is Holt’s writing.” “Very well.” The jury stared at Nixie. The coroner was proceeding. ‘‘Will you please tell us now, Miss Allen, all you know of the circum- stances surrounding Mr. Moreton’s death?” Nixie’s rejoinder was curt: ‘‘ Do you mean how Holt and I came to find Mr. Moreton?” “That first, if you like.” Nixie gave almost word for word the ac- count she had given the night before. The only variation was when she spoke of “the door.”’ Then she pointed to the window door which stood half open. “You say you did not see Mr. Moreton the first time you looked in, and then you speak of an ‘afterward.’ How long aiter- ward did you make the discovery?”’ “T don’t know just how long.” “Several minutes?” “Tt must have been.” “Were you standing at the door during that time, you and the chauffeur?” HE did not answer for a moment. Then suddenly she gained resolution. ‘No. As soon as I saw that only the reading light was burning and that Mr. Moreton wasn’t at the desk, I thought he must have gone up to his room, and I told Holt that I’d go up and see. Holt went up to Mr. Moreton’s bedroom door with me. He waited on the landing up there and I knocked and then I went into Mr. Moreton’s room, for I thought he must be on the porch; his bedroom opens on It and he often sat there. But he wasnt there either, and I climbed in at my window, from the porch, my bedroom window, and went out by my door to the upstairs hall. I went down the stairs then to the front hall”—she pointed in the direction of the library—“ and looked in at the library, but he wasn’t there. I went right back upstairs then, and through my room again to the porch and then through Mr. Moreton’s room to the landing. Holt was waiting there, and I told him I couldn’t find Mr. Moreton, that possibly he had gone outdoors. We talked on the stairs for a time; then we went down and I thought I’d better look into the study again to make sure, and that time I opened the door wider and we went into the room. Then we saw Mr. Moreton lying on the floor by the desk.” “Why were you so eager to find Mr. Moreton?” the coroner asked. CONTINUED ON PAGE 110 Apt

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April, 1920 HOME JOURNAL 109 “THAT WELL-DRESSED LOOK” Tur GLENCOE: There's something particularly dashing about this littie “ cut- away” tailormade with its debonair one-button fastening. The back is straight with buttons and stitching; that double shawl collar (with cuffs trimmed to match ) is most effective, and the diagonal pockets are smart. The skirt is full in back with a centre plait, and the pockets match the coat. The material is Homespun Twill, and it comes in Light Green, Tan and Gray Mixtures. THE WueEATON: This breezy little suit is quite different from most things you've seen, The Tuxedo collar faced with contrasting satin is at its best here. The coat has just enough stitching to be effective and the stitching is in just the right places! The belt can be “all-round” or you can leave the front open to dis- play your favorite vestee. This same stitching forms a yoke on the skirt which is really slenderizing. It comes in Black, Navy, French Blue and Hemp Tricotine. Tur BELmMonrt: Tucked inserts are a striking feature of this little Innovation Coat. You see how they look in back, but you've no idea how effective that same tucking is in front. The cuffs and the convertible collar also carry tucks and the belt is self material. It’s a coat of many uses, this little Suede Velour, and you may choose from Sparrow, Black, Navy, French Blue and Dove. Tuk GLENCOF Tur Wuraron THe DELAMERE: |S mening and brothers have always been so superior about their ability to buy their clothes without “shopping.” They've viewed with amused tolerance our painstaking selection of materials, endless fit- tings and anxiety as to “how it would look.” It hasn’t been their masculine efficiency as they’d like us to believe—not a bit of it! They’ve always been able to purchase nation ally known coats and suits, smartly cut and well tailored. The trousers raised an inch, perhaps, the sleeves let down, and out they've walked, looking fit and self satisfied ! They never worried as to whether the fabric would wear well or the trim lines hold their shape. The little label in their collar was the signed assurance of the makers that the best that could be bought was in that coat or suit. But today we surely have caught up with them! We buy our Wooltex Tailormades with the same easy assurance they’ve always had. Their snug shoulders are no snugger than those in our Wooltex Tailormades, their collars no flatter, their lines no cleaner cut than ours! We’ve learned to insist that our coats and suits be “signed” by tailors—tailors who are kept busy living up to their reputation for giving one “that well-dressed look.” That's just what that signature described below means—a “well-dressed look” from the time you first try it on until you finally discard it for your new Wooltex Tailormade! Ask the salesperson, when you go to seek your Wooltex Tailormade for “The Tailored Woman” which is a fashion magazine most authoritative. If you prefer to write us for it, do so and we will mail it to you. Wooltex Tailormades are shown by The Tailored Woman, Fifth Avenue at Fiftieth Street, New York and in leading shops throughout the country. Write us for the one most convenient to your home. Fair or cloudy weather, in town or in the open, you'll wear this coat more often than you can imagine. It’s so simple and yet so smart! The sides are semi- Sitted, the pockets vertical slots, the collar convert- ible. Stitching of contrasting silk and a few bone buttons are a pleasing trimming. Lining of figured Pussy Willow. Tricotine in French Blue, Black, Navy and Tan. Wooltex Tailormades are priced at $45, $55, $65, $75, up to $125 lte Tailor-mades This signature on its bit of white satin appears in every genuine Wooltex Tailormade. It is the promise of your tailors that your “ Well-Dressed Look” is not for a week or a month but for the life of the tailormade. The H. Black Company — Tur Betmonr THe DELAMERE Cleveland:New York t © The H. Black Co., 1920

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110 HOME JOURNAL An Investment that Pays 100 per cent in Refrigerator Cleanliness OUR refrigerator is the cornerstone of the health, energy and happiness of your family. Without question it should be the cleanest, sweetest spot in the whole house. Unfortunately, because of the construc- tion and lining used in many refrigerators this is often impossible. LEONARD Cleanapdble efrigerator You will find the entire inside lining is just one piece of snow-white porcelain. There isn’t a seam or crevice, a screw hole or corner anywhere in which grease or dirt can lodge. Even the front corners inside the door are rounded (an exclusive patented Leonard feature). Remove the retinned wire racks and every inch of space can be washed immaculately clean in five minutes. Circulating cold, dry air keeps the walls and food absolutely pure and sweet. The whole drainage system is easily removed for scalding. In buying a refrigerator you are mak- ing an investment for the family’s welfare. The Leonard Cleanable offers the utmost in refrigerator and food sanitation, and will last a lifetime. There is a style and size Leonard to meet every purse. Rear icing door and porcelain-lined water cooler if desired. Look for the Rounded Corners . Look up the Leonard dealer in your town and inspect the Leonard Cleanable. If you fail to find him, don’t be satisfied with one of the “Just as good” kinds. Write us for illustrated catalogue and Mr. Leonard’s booklet on the selection and care of refrigerators. We will see that you are supplied. Every crack, crevice or sharp corner makes a , breeding place that in- vites germs and bacteria. In the Leonard Clean- able, where the design has been worked out ona purely scientific basis, you will find rounded in- side front corners. This is an exclusive Leonard feature and is covered by patents. GRAND RAPIDS REFRIGERATOR COMPANY Dept. 2-D, Grand Rapids, Mich. April, 1920 The Moreton Mystery (CONTINUED FROM PAGE 108) “‘Because Holt had told Mr. Moreton that he was going at the end of his month, and Mr. Moreton seemed to have forgotten about it. He had been away from Moreton House for over a week, and Holt was going in the morning.. He wanted to see Mr. Moreton and explain.” “Did he need your help for that?” “T don’t know that he did,” she retorted; “but I was quite willing to help him find Mr. Moreton. Holt had told me that he had to go, and I was anxious for Mr. Moreton to know. Mr. Moreton had made no arrange- ments for a chauffeur, and in the morning he would be without one.” “I do not understand why you climbed through your window to reach the hall? I noticed when I went upstairs that there is a door from Mr. Moreton’s room into the hall.” Again Nixie paused and her already high color deepened. “I didn’t want anyone to see me coming out of his room,” she said finally. “I never go into Mr: Moreton’s room—in that way. I went in last night only because I was so sure he was on the porch, and Holt was waiting and anxious to see him.” The coroner paused and stirred the papers on the table before he asked his next ques- tion. “Miss Allen, do you know whether of late Mr. Moreton had matters on his mind which caused him worry?” Nixie’s eyes dropped to Moreton’s still body. Her lips quivered and the flush in her cheeks faded. ‘‘He had—worries,” she an- swered at last, “but they would never—make him do that. He was too splendid and strong to do that!”” There was measureless pain in her husky voice, and a vibrant note, some intense feeling not easy to analyze. HE coroner’s question, following as it did upon that note of profound emotion, sounded harsh. ‘Will you tell us of what nature were these ‘worries’ you mention?” Nixie lifted her eyes to his. ‘No,’ she said with finality. ‘They were confidences.” “You know that you are under oath, Miss Allen.” The answer flashed from her lips. “I know that! There are others who can an- swer your question if they want to!” “T am here to discover every fact which may throw light upon this tragedy,” the coroner said sternly, ‘“‘however painful my duty may be to the person questioned.” “And there’s no one more anxious to have you succeed than I,”’ Nixie returned passion- ately. “But I'll not betray confidences. I’ve told you Mr. Moreton did have worries, and I’ve also told you that I know they would never have made him do that”; and she pointed to the fatal bottle on the desk. The coroner made a note. “We will take that up later,” he said evenly. “Katie Kearney?” He was answered by a gasp: “Yes, sir.” The chambermaid, a pretty, gray-eyed, black-haired girl, grasped the back of Dris- coll’s chair and struggled to her feet. “There’s nothing to be terrified about, Katie,” the coroner said reassuringly. ‘Just answer my questions truthfully; that’s all we ask of you.” “Yes, sir.” “Now, Katie, just tell usabout yesterday— all you know about it; take your time.” Katie seemed to be unable to begin. “Were you here when Mr. Moreton came. home yesterday, Katie?” “Yes, sir.” “Did you see him?” “Yes, sir.”” She was gaining confidence. “How did he seem? His usual self?” “No, sir; he was angry.” “ Angry with you?” " , NO, sir,” and Katie suddenly found her Irish tongue. ‘‘It wasn’t me he was angry with, sir; it was a dollar he give me! I come through the hall upstairs and he was comin’ through, walkin’ fast afther he’d come from the automobile with the lawyer gentleman; and Burke was takin’ the gen- tleman to his room, and Mr. Moreton was frownin’ an’ he says to me: ‘Is Mrs. More- ton back yet, Katie?’ he says. And I says, ‘No, sir.’ And he says: ‘When she gets back you come an’ tell me—at once!’ and he shut his bedroom door. It was mad he was, and I was scared; someone was goin’ to catch it. But it wasn’t me, for he’d give me a dollar; and I went downstairs. It was the cook put me off; she was scoldin’ about something; and, thrue to God, sir, I forgot all about Mrs. Moreton’s gettin’ back till the hour afther- ward. Then I run up to tell Mr. Moreton, but there he was comin’ out of Mrs. More- ton’s room ——” Katie stopped. “Yes?” said the coroner. “He was speakin’ loud, sir, and he says: ‘It will drive me to suicide, Lilian! The thought of the future makes me sick!’ and he just went into his room and shut the door.” She ended in a sort of breathless awe. ‘Did you ever hear Mr. Moreton speak in that way before, Katie?” ““No, sir, never to say a thing like that.” “Did you see Mr. Moreton again yester- day?” “No, sir, not till I seen him like he is— now; an’ rememberin’ what he’d said to Mrs. Moreton, I was most crazy, an’ I run first thing up an’ pounded on Mr. Driscoll’s door to tell him, an’ then I run back down here. They whispered to me ‘He’s dead,’ they says, an’ I couldn’t do nothing but just pray. Mr. Moreton, he was always—good— to—us—girls.” She had flung her apron over her head and was sobbing aloud. HERS were not the only wet eyes in the room. Driscoll’s were full of tears. He turned about and put his hand on Katie’s shoulder. “Don’t cry, Katie,” he said kindly. “Hush, now.” The cook, a belligerent-looking Irishwoman of snub features and ample girth, took Katie in charge and applied her handkerchief to Katie’s swollen eyes. “Mrs. Horgan?” the coroner said. The big woman stopped her ministrations and got to her feet. ‘‘That’s me, sir!” she declared pugnaciously. “Will you ——” “There’s nothin’ I know to tell yous,” she interrupted. ‘How should there be? I tend to my cooking, and it’s no time I have for gossipin’ about th’ family. I don’t know a thing about it. I was in me room undressin’ when Mrs. Moreton’s maid an’ Mrs. von Betler’s run up cryin’ to th’ girls what had happened, an’ I come on down and seen Mr. Moreton lyin’ still, God rest his soul !’’—and she crossed herseli—“‘and that’s all I know, exceptin’ that he was a good masther. Once a month regular he’d come into th’ kitchen an’ slip me a ten-dollar bill. ‘Get some cloridy of lime, Mrs. Horgan,’ he’d say. It was just his joke, makin’ fun of me pronun- ciation—poor soul!” “That will do, Mrs. Horgan”; and the coroner went impassively on. He questioned servant after servant. They had noticed nothing unusual about Mr. Moreton, either on the day of his death or previously. They had seen no strangers about the place. Mrs. Moreton’s maid testified that she and Mrs. von Betler’s maid had spent the evening in Mrs. More- ton’s apartment, waiting for their respective mistresses to retire, and that she, Mrs. More- ton’s maid, had left the room only once, a little after ten o’clock, when, at an order transmitted through Burke, she had taken down to Mrs. Moreton, who was on the ve- randa, a wrap and her bottle of smelling salts, HE footman testified that Mr. Moreton had “talked angry about the war at din- ner.” -The head gardener said that Mr. Moreton usually got “very earnest” when he talked about the war. The drafts had taken allof the gardener’s assistants, and Mr. More- ton had given every man of them a handsome present when he left. He admitted that Mr. Moreton seemed to have something on his mind lately, that he often looked worried. Mr. Moreton was a good master, the head gardener declared. He also testified as to Holt’s departure and the letter Holt had in- trusted to him. No, Holt had not seemed to be excited the night before, only in a hurry to get his train. None of the servants had seen anyone about who didn’t belong to the place, except Mr. Jowett, and they had seen him for the first time when they came into the study the night before. Then the coroner interrogated Burke. He elicited the fact that he had served the family for ten years and that Mr. Moreton reposed confidence in him. ‘You served at dinner last night, Burke, did you not? Will you give us an account of what passed?” “Yes, sir,” and Burke gave a very accu- rate, but entirely colorless account of what was said and done up to the time of More- ton’s withdrawal into the study. The coroner pressed him to describe More- ton’s manner. “Was Mr. Moreton excited when he spoke?” “No, sir, it ’adn’t occurred to me that he was, sir.” “Angry, then?” “No, sir, ’ardly that, sir.” “Just what impression did his mannert make upon you?” CONTINUED ON PAGE 114

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— ww aSeelUlUCcUmrlh OO Or Ay ww OU ewe ON April, 1920 BP Queter At Atacarori fi (WEIGHT 90 O2- Quaker # Milk Macaroni A mixture of wh? vt end milk The Qyshor Oe ' AboRess CH € HOME JOURNAL ANNOUNCES Milk MACARONI and Milk Spaghetti a new food value a new food enjoyment Milk and Wheat—the fat o the land RAW up your chairs, friends of Quaker foods, we've prepared a new delight for supper! Macaroni as light as little popovers— as tender as fresh asparagus tips—as rich as creamed potatoes. Macaroni as hunger satisfying as home-made bread and butter. We’ve found the way to give this body-build- ing food just the richness it needed to perfect it. Listen to the story For years we have felt macaroni could be made the ideal food for lovers of good things to eat. We have experimented in many ways to im- prove its flavor and its nutriment. First we tried out every kind and grade of golden kerneled wheat from which it could be made—and many blendings of them. We found one kind, rich in gluten, which gave superlative results; and this we adopted exclu- sively, though it cost us more than ordinary macaroni blends. As chefs make banquet dishes Then we tried to improve the making of this Product, giving it such care as fine cooks take on feast days. We insisted, for instance, on absolute uni- formity. The hole must be uaker exactly through the center of every stick, so that the walls of food were of an even thickness all round, and thus would cook to uniform tenderness. When this was done we believed we had a better macaroni than was ever made before. The sticks were a beautiful amber, almost trans- lucent, and so hard and brittle they broke off sharp and clean, like crisp, fresh celery does. Food chemists found it had a higher nutritive content than ordinary macaroni. It didn’t satisfy us We had the best macaroni that could be made with old-time ingredients and modern methods, but it didn’t satisfy us. We wanted to give this dish a tastiness which would: win it the popu- larity so valuable a food deserved. We thought of milk, next to wheat man’s greatest food, and the great enricher of other foods. Milk and wheat— the fat o’ the land! In bread and milk, our childhood’s wholesome supper. In bread and cheese, the cotter’s daily standby. In bread and butter, the staff of life. Could milk be combined with wheat in maca- roni, in a way that would keep indefinitely? A new food value Friends, we found a way to do it—to combine sweet milk with the rich wheaten sticks we had already learned to make. And when it was done we found we had a new food value, a new macaroni. Macaroni as light as little popovers—as ten- der as fresh asparagus tips—as rich as creamed potatoes. Macaroni as hunger satisfying as home- made bread and butter. Now it is ready for you You may have Quaker Brand Milk Macaroni (Milk Spaghetti or E ‘gg Noodles) tonight for supper. No new cooking skill or experimenting 1S needed to enjoy it—just cook and serve in your regular style. We want you to see in this way how much better Quaker Brand Milk Macaroni and Milk Spaghetti are than that which you are used to. You pay no more We pack more macaroni than usual in each box. By thus saving in packing, and other costs, we are able to give you this better, more costly product at about the same price per ounce as ordinary macaronis. The 15c size contains 10 ounces, enough for two full family meals. The 20c size, containing 16 ounces, is an even better value. (These prices do not apply in Canada, the far west and south.) Ask your grocer for it today. If he should happen not to have it, write us, giving his name, and we will see that you are supplied. The Quaker Oats Company, 1604 Railway Ex- change Building, Chicago, U. S. A. Milk MACARONI, Mi/k SPAGHETTI, Fgg NOODLES

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means more than leisure Each month thousands of women are won to the BlueBird way of washing, mainly because it absolutely does away with washday drudgery and saves time. But after they have had BlueBird a while they realize that it means far more than leisure. For clothes washed in the BlueBird way last much longer than most women used to think that clothes could last. Scientifically made tests show that they last five times as long as when they are washed on a rub-board. BlueBird dealers everywhere are daily demonstrating how fast, safe and economical the BlueBird way is. They will be glad to demonstrate it in your home by doing your week’s washing. The BlueBird Appliance Company St. Louis, U. S. Branches: Chicago, New York, Boston An initial payment of seven dollars puts BlueBird into your home, and the balance can be paid in convenient monthly sums

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April, 1920 HOME JOURNAL ur Conservation Car AVE you an automobile in your family? If so, does it figure in your household budget as an asset or a liability? Does it earn its way, or do you have to set aside a fair sum each month for its lodging, food and upkeep? Perhaps you smile at the last phrase, but our “Lima bean,” as Reg, Jr., has dubbed it, is so much a part of the family circle that at times it does seem almost human. And when I tell you its history I am sure you will understand. Before the World War we had a car which stood for luxury. Now we own one which stands for conservation. When my husband bought the first machine I thrilled with pride. Now I thrill with satisfaction. The first, a high-power, seven-passenger car, was bought for pleasure, and we used it for that purpose exclusively. My husband drove it splendidly, and we spent most of our week- ends in it. Sometimes we took the children on long rides, stopping in the woods to picnic or to gather nuts. At other times we invited friends to join us on short tours. Every trip cost something, from gasoline and ice-cream sodas for the children to rooms and meals at roadside inns when we enter- tained motoring parties. Not that we felt the expense; our income was increasing steadily and prospects were rosy. But when war brought longer hours at the office for my husband, to say noth- ing of gasless Sundays, we put up the car, feeling this to be our heaviest wartime dep- rivation. The Wife Should Drive Too HEN the armistice was declared, almost my first thought was that now we could use the car. But several things checked my enthusiasm, including the spirit of conserva- tion which had ruled our lives for nearly two years, the increasing cost of all commodi- ties, the high wages demanded by household help, and the uncertainty of business condi- tions. In fact, like most wives and mothers, in those very critical hours I felt somewhat dis- couraged. One day when I was discussing the general situation with a friend from the West, she said: “Why don’t you learn to drive the ma- chine? We get a hundred per cent more use from our car since I drive it.” “Oh, I could never handle a car,” I re- plied. ‘I have no gift for mechanics, and Iam positively afraid of the power that great machine possesses.” “Then buy a smaller one that you won’t be afraid of. Take my word, it will pay you.” I had always been the sort of woman who drives a nail crooked and asks the postman or ashman to turn off the water when the pipes spring aleak. Nevertheless, my friend’s suggestion intrigued me. Finally I broached it to my husband. He fell in with the plan at once. “V’ve been thinking about it myseif,” he said. “Except when I am here to drive, the machine stands idle, and with a family like ours we ought to get more service out of acar. Vl look into the matter.” The Advantages of a Smaller Car VENTUALLY we sold the big car at a very good figure to a man who did not want to wait for post-war production. Then we bought a snug sedan with a four-cylinder engine, and I took lessons in driving and simple repairing. The machine holds the family comfortably, with a corner left for the picnic basket, or we can take two adults out for a spin. We can open all the windows on hut days and close them in storms. We have all the pleasure, if not the speed, of our old days; but best of all is the part which the new car plays in our household budget. Since December, 1918, it has paid its own Way, and more, "and herein are the figures and facts to prove it. We live in one of those artistically designed suburbs of suburbs built on curving roads, up hill and down dale, with never a street- car line to mar the charms of landscape and architecture. Every plot is restricted, no stores are permitted within its sacred precincts, and the family that does not boast eee By Marjorie Davis a car is dependent upon the telephone for ordering food supplies. We have an excellent private school for small children in the annex of our club- house, but the nearest public school is in the village a mile away. In the same village are groceries where accounts are carried; also “‘chain stores”’ of the “‘cash-and-carry” type, as well as hard- ware, drug, notion and repair shops to be found on the main street of the average small town. And, of course, there is also the ubiquitous movie theater. Cutting Out Ordering by Telephone WELVE miles away is the real city to which our men commute and to which we women look for raiment, matinées, and oc- casional restaurant dinners and _ theater parties. Previous to December, 1918, when we used the old car for pleasure exclusively, my hus- band walked to and from the railway station in pleasant weather. On stormy mornings he called up a taxi at twenty-five cents a trip and on bad evenings used the taxi again, unless some friendly neighbor, whose wife or son drove the family car, extended a friendly invitation to “‘come along in.” Now I take him to and from the train in bad weather or when he is tired. Otherwise he likes to walk. Up to December, 1918, Reg, Jr., went alone to the central school in the village a mile away; Jenny attended the private school at the clubhouse; and little Rob stopped at home with mother. This year all three go to the central school, for Rob has reached kindergarten age. Up to December, 1918, I ordered by tele- phone from the village, and ran accounts. Now I buy at the “cash-and-carry”’ stores and run no accounts, Cheaper Than the Taxicab FE SPEND for gas, upkeep and repairs an average of eleven dollars a month, and I figure that my gas costs me about one and one-half cents a mile. In the old days my husband averaged seventy-five cents a week, three dollars a month, for taxicab hire. To- day it would be twice as much, for the new village ordinance permits hackmen to charge fifty cents within the corporate limits. So I charge off six dollars a month of the eleven dollars for this item alone. Jenny’s tuition at the private school was eight dollars a month. Figuring that this year both she and Rob would have gone to the school near home, I have saved sixteen dollars a month by using my little conserva- tion car to take them to and from the public school for the maintenance of which my hus- band pays taxes. In addition to saving tuition fees and get- ting returns on our taxes, I have found the conservation of clothing and shoe leather to be a considerable item. Tramping back and forth to school in bad weather is ruinous to coats and shoes. During the winter before I ran the car, Reg, Jr., required a new pair of shoes every twenty-eight days or so. Last winter he averaged a new pair every six or seven weeks. With shoes costing seven dollars a pair, prolonging their life two or three weeks means quite a saving. I supply rubbers, arctics and rough old coats for outdoor play in bad weather, so their school clothing wears longer and looks neater. Exactly How Expenses Were Lowered Y SAVINGS in household supplies are extremely interesting. I do all my own work now except baking, and we use three loaves of bread daily, often four. At the chain store I can buy bread a cent a pound cheaper than at the charge stores, so you see that my saving on bread alone pays for the gas which carries the children to and from school, for I market after dropping them at the schoolhouse. Here are a few convincing items: One day when my neighbor paid seventy-five cents a peck for potatoes ordered over the phone, I bought just as good a grade at the chain store for sixty-seven cents cash. Lemons which she ordered at fifty cents a dozen I bought for thirty-nine cents. When she paid twelve cents a pound for sugar I got it for eleven. Then by going to the stores each morn- ing I can study market conditions and buy foodstuffs when they are in season or on special sale or when the dealer has over- loaded. One morning I bought a box of standard laundry soap at seven dollars a hundred cakes when my neighbors were paying eight dollars and a quarter for the same brand at the charge stores. For many breakfast foods I pay only nine or thirteen cents a package while my neigh- bors pay ten or fifteen cents. During the sale of army foods my car saved parcel post and express charges. The Car a Convenience, Not a Luxury | oye summer I drove into the surrounding country to buy the fresh food that we did not raise in our own little garden. Besides saving more than the cost of gas used, I got the best and freshest fruits and vegetables the market affords—and had the pleasant drive after my day’s work. In this way, too, I noticed when fruit was at just the right stage for making jelly. Each of these items counts for economy, efficiency and a better table in our home. Finally, our pleasures cost less—and I hold that pleasure is a legitimate item in a house- hold budget. On Jenny’s birthday we wanted to take the entire family to circus in town. Using the family or fifty-trip ticket, our rail- road fares would have amounted to two dol- lars and forty cents, plus forty cents carfare in town. We used the car at an expenditure of less than a dollar’s worth of gas and fifty cents garage charge. On pleasant winter evenings I often take a friend into town, where we meet our hus- bands for dinner and the theater, after which we motor home. Although this costs about the same as railway fare, we avoid the crowd on the theater trains and have a restful ride through fresh country air. An item worth considering is our new attitude toward the car. It is no longer a luxury, but a convenience, a factor in our new scheme of living, by which I have elimi- nated the high-priced servant. It ranks with my new washing machine. It lightens my burdens, saves wear and tear on clothing and nerves, and carries me away from household worries when my work is done. And because it occupies this new, com- monplace position in our lives, we no longer try to live up to our car. We make it live down to our plane. We used to dress and entertain up to the car which we used exclusively for pleasure. Now my sturdy crash, corduroy . and leather motoring clothes last long and always look well. The Savings Pay for Gas and Upkeep UMMING it up, savings on taxicab fares and tuition in the private school pay for gasoline and upkeep. Savings on foodstuffs, clothing and railway fares pay for new tires and leave a balance which we figure as inter- est on our investment. The deterioration of the car, which is inevitable whether a ma- chine is used for conservation or pleasure, we charge to recreation. This recreation we enjoy fully, because we do not feel it to be an extravagance in a day which demands econ- omy. We look upon our car as a dependable servant. And such may be its position in any house- hold, whether it is a roadster or a high-power, seven-passenger machine. If proper con- tainers are provided, the interior of the car will not be injured by carrying supplies, and if the wife and mother will give the same study to running her car and making small repairs that she gives to running her kitchen, she can cut down the upkeep from two-fifths to one-half. - In time we shall buy another large car, but I shall study its mechanism as carefully as I have that of our conservation car, and I shall make it serve my family and budget in the same way. 113 Jb ffhopi —————— Dishes That Men Like WwW: ARE always looking for dishes that will please the mas- culine taste—dishes which once eaten often reappear “‘by special re- quest.”” In these Perfection Salad and Snow Pudding recipes you will find such dishes, for they have won universal favor with the men wher- ever they have been served—and I know they have been favorites in my own home for years. Not only will the masculine members of your family appreciate these dishes but you will like them too, because they are easy to make and may be made with syrup in place of sugar, when that precious article soars in price or is impossible to get. PERFECTION SALAD 1 envel KNOX cup sugar or Spark Gelatine cup of syrup ¥4 cup cold water 1 teaspoon salt 44 cup mild vinegar 1 cup cabbage, 2 cups boiling water finely shredded 2 cups celery, cut \% can sweet red small peppers or fresh 2 tablespoonfuls cpartnalé cut, lemon juice Soak the ne prteine in cold water five min- utes; vinegar, lemon juice, water, poe dh and salt; stir until dissolved. Strain and when beginning to set add re- maining ingredients. Turn into mold, first dipped in cold water and chill. Serve on lettuce leaves with mayonnaise or cut in dice and serve in cases made of red or green peppers; or the mixture may be shaped in molds lined with pimentoes. In my recipes no special molds are re- — ;—any vegetable, china or glass ish will mold them nicely. NOTE: Use froite instead of vegetables in the above recipe and you have a de- licious fruit salad. SNOW PUDDING \% envelope KNOX 34 cup sugar or Sparkling Gelatine %% cupof syrup YY cup cold water 44 cup lemon juice 1 cup boiling water Whites of 2 eggs Soak gelatine in cold water five minutes, dissolve in boiling water and add sugar, lemon juice and grated rind of one lemon; strain and set aside; occasionally stir mix- ture, and when quite thick beat with wire spoon or whisk until frothy; add whites of eggs beaten stiff, and continue beating un- ~- stiff enough to hold its shape. Pile by fuls on glass dish or put in mold. Chill and serve with boiled custard. NOTE: When syrup is used in these recipes in place of sugar omit 4 cup- fulof boiling water from the quantity given in the recipe. What “4 to 1”’ Means My gelatine is preferred by home-makers because of its economy. One package of KNOX Sparkling Gelatine will serve a fam- ily of six with four different salads or des- serts for four luncheons or dinners, while the ready-prepared packages will do for only one meal. That is why e tts have been calling Knox the ‘‘4 to 1”’ Gelatine— it lasts four times as long, goes four times as far, and serves four times as many people as the ready-prepared packages. Special Home Service There are many other ideas and “dishes that men like” and women, too, in my rec- ipe books * “Dainty Desserts” and “Food conomy.’’ Send for them. They are free if you mention your grocer’s name. MRS. CHARLES B. KNOX KNOX GELATINE 113 Knox Avenue, Johnstown, N.Y. **Wherever @ recipe calls for Gelatine— it means KNOX’’ KNOX acidiitarey N? GELATINE | aS Se) This package contains an envelope of pure Lemon Flavor for the con- venience of the busy housewife weicn NE OUNCE srusemeeerenctieranEieeswares

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jae OF Vielay Distinctive Sweet OP ibm Villian lcm mentite meltisttushye confection —always appropriate — every- where. Onthe tea tray, at bridge or served SU taeMm dates (Oerleet mat olamcconteldtetcmccereree ness is enjoyed by everyone. Pure, wholesome, delicious, U-All-No Mints are tiny snow-white sugary loaves Pi msileeldMeeucrthmeeiricolamecoiericaky flavored with crushed mint. Neither over-rich nor over-flavored, they are the ideal sweet-—for kiddies or grown-ups. The freshness of this dainty mattelmeesercoueteemrmreteCocliticokmr tc ittuce moby ragVemrtt ona teaatemente)Ciatt ucts eure) merle ction Intins of severalsizes. Twenty,twenty- five, fifty, seventy-five cents. Everywhere ! MANUFACTURING CO. OF AMERICA Philadelphia, U.S. A. V-Alk AFTER DINNER Burke’s even delivery did not vary. “I thought his manner earnest, si-.”’ “But not excited?” “Determined, rather, sir.” “You took the pitcher and glass to him, then, did you, Burke?” “Ves, ar. “Describe what passed.” Burke did so, but his account lacked entirely the thrill he had imparted to it when talking with Parker. “T must ask you again to describe Mr. Moreton’s manner?” the coroner said. “He seemed earnest, sir.’ “You have been many years with Mr. Moreton—have you noticed whether, of late, he was more irritable or excitable than was customary with him?” “T can’t say as to that, sir. I ’ad such respect for Mr. Moreton that whatever he did or said seemed quite as it should be.” “Do you know of his having worries or anxieties during the last few days, or the last few months?” “Mr. Moreton never at any time men- tioned such matters to me, sir, therefore I know nothing whatever about it.” HE coroner nodded curtly, and the lit- tle, white-haired man sat down. Jowett chuckled under his breath, and even Parker’s lips twitched slightly. The jury whispered to- gether, as they had when Nixie had flung her defiance at the coroner. The coroner made a note, then called upon von Betler. Von Betler stated that his father had been a German and his mother an Amer- ican; that he was American born and bred. He had known the Moreton family for a number of years, but had seen little of Mr. Moreton since Germany declared war, for until America entered the war he had re- mained strictly neutral. Since the moment of America’s actual entrance he had both openly and privately stood for America and her interests. His wife had been strongly pro-Ally and an earnest worker in many war charities. He said that he had come to Moreton House with the hope of having an old-time heart-to-heart talk with Mr. More- ton, and that Mr. Moreton’s attitude at dinner the night before had been a great surprise and shock to him. He had thought Mr. Moreton entirely unlike himself, so much so that he had been amazed. Von Bet- ler declared, feelingly; that he had never been more horrified than he was when he entered the study a few hours later and saw what had occurred. “Will you tell us please, Mr. von Betler, just where you were and what you did after dinner, between that time and the moment when you entered the study?” “‘T went from the dinner table out to the veranda with Mrs. Moreton, Mrs. Insmann, my wife, Count Gansingen and Doctor Le- vene. We had coffee there. Both my wife and I were distressed over the affair at din ner, so we excused ourselves and went to our room. Mrs. Insmann accompanied us. | remember I looked at my watch as we went up, and it was half past ten. We sat together in our room and talked for some time. Then, suddenly, some one rapped loudly on our door. It was Miss Allen in great excitement calling for Mr. Parker; she had mistaken his room, which was across the way. She rapped then on Mr. Parker’s door, he came out and we all ran downstairs into the study.” “Did you leave your room at any time after coming up from the veranda?” “No,” “Did either of the ladies leave it “No.” 5” EXT the coroner called Mrs. von Betler, who in a trembling voice verified her husband’s testimony. She looked terribly distressed; she shook from head to foot while she talked, and when she mentioned Mr. Moreton’s death her eyes filled with tears. Mrs. Insmann was pale but collected, and was succinct in her corroboration of Mr. and Mrs. von Betler’s testimony. She was the widow of Colonel Frederick Insmann, a United States Army officer; she had been born in Germany, but had come to America when a baby. Her army experience had given her a hor- ror of war, but she had never associated her- self with pacifist activities. She said that she did not drink Mr. Moreton’s toast the evening before, simply because she could not conscientiously “stand for war.” Count Gansingen testified that he had been born in Berne, that his parents had been Swiss, and that he possessed indepen- dent means and had spent much of his life in travel; he was a Swiss citizen educated both in Germany and in England. For the The Moreton Mystery (CONTINUED FROM PAGE 110) last ten years he had spent most of his time in America because he liked America and the Americans. He spoke of his country’s neu- trality and his earnest desire to “‘ work with America in her struggle.” He said that he had offered his services in any medical ca- pacity the authorities might think fit, for, being a man of nearly middle age, it seemed the only opportunity open to him. The scene at dinner had made a deep impression upon him; Mr. Moreton had been “‘so startlingly arousedandprofoundlystirred.”’ The count’s voice was not altogether steady when he spoke of seeing Moreton in the study. “Ah, that was a dreadful thing!” he said. ‘‘I had such a tremendous feeling of a life cut off, of a fine and capable man gone. It was the pity of it.” When asked to account for himself after dinner, the count stated that he had gone with the otherssto the veranda and had remained there until the butler had run out to call Doctor Levene. “During that time did you see anyone enter or pass through the library?” “No, not until a girl ran through the library and Doctor Levene exclaimed, ‘Why, that’s Miss Allen!’ and the next moment the butler ran out to us.” “After Mr. and Mrs. von Betler retired, who were with you on the veranda?” “Mrs. Moreton and Doctor Levene.” ‘Did either of you leave the veranda?” “ No.” “Did anyone join you, or did you see anyone in or near the veranda?”’ “Only the butler who twice came out to us with iced water, and Mrs. Moreton’s maid who brought to her mistress a scarf for which Mrs. Moreton had sent.” “WTR. DRISCOLL MORETON?” “‘Here,”’ Driscoll answered. “‘T see your arm is bandaged, Mr. More- ton.” “Yes, I sprained my wrist last night.” The coroner made a note, then he asked: “I may seem to be harping on one subject, but will you tell us what impression Mr. Moreton’s words and manner made upon you—I mean at dinner last night?” Driscoll, as was usual with him, was bru- tally candid. ‘I’ve got to explain first of all that I was a little ‘stewed.’ So you'll have to take my impressions for what they’re worth. Uncle Mathew struck me as not ex- cited, but tremendously sincere and denun- ciatory. The old gentleman was grand as he stood there and gave it to us! I felt like a dog—at not being in the trenches. I took a big drink then, and the stuff went to my head. I wasn’t fit to be seen, and I went up to my room. I’ve only the vaguest impression of falling about and then getting into bed, and I didn’t know any more until one of the maids screamed and pounded on my door, saying that ‘Mr. Moreton had killed himself.’ I got out and downstairs then.” “And your strained wrist, Mr. Moreton?” “T hurt it when I fell, I suppose,” Driscoll answered thickly. “I didn’t notice it until we carried Aunt Lilian up.” The coroner nodded. Then he called on Doctor Levene. The doctor testified that he had been Mrs. Moreton’s physician for the last two years and had been a frequent visitor at the More- ton home, but that he had never been Mr. Moreton’s physician. Asked next about the occurrences at dinner the evening before, he said: “I was startled and alarmed by Mr. Moreton’s unusual manner. I should hardly call it excitement, more the sudden expres- sion of a fixed idea; everyone present seemed suddenly to be regarded as an enemy.” “What do you mean by saying that you were ‘alarmed’? Do you mean that, as a physician, you saw cause for alarm in Mr. Moreton’s manner?” EVENE flushed. ‘A physician’s impres- sions are not always correct,” he said hastily. He looked highly uncomfortable, like one caught in a slip of the tongue. “I was anxious because Mrs. Moreton had told me in great distress that Mr. Moreton had been excited and angry earlier in the afternoon. | wanted to quict her anxiety; she was any- thing but well; so I told her that Mr. More- ton must merely be suffering from the heat of the last few days. I wish now that I had said something or done something, though I don’t know what I could have done, in my position.” Levene’s voice was both regret! ul and troubled. The coroner made a note, and, with him, that appeared to indicate that he meant to return to some particular subject. “Will you CONTINUED ON PAGE 116 _ Sah it

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Apri, 1920 Bubble Grains The Supreme Foods Two are whole grains puffed HOME JOURNAL to eight times normal size. One is pellets of hominy puffed to raindrop size. All are flimsy, flaky, fla- vory—enticing in their tex- ture, delightful in their taste. This is whole wheat as we seal it in the guns. We re- volve it for one hour in 550 degrees of heat. The bit of moisture in each food cell is thus changed to steam. Here are the same grains shot from guns. Over 100 mil- lion steam explosions have oc- curred in every kernel. The grains are puffed to flimsy bubbles, 8 times normal size. Yet they are still shaped as they grew. escsee Puffed Wheat and Puffed Rice are whole-grain foods. And few children get enough whole grains. All Puffed Grains are fitted for easy digestion as grain foods never were before. The fearful heat gives Puffed Grains a very nut-like taste. But each Puffed Grain tastes like a different nut. You should use all three, for each Puffed Grain best fits some way of serving. * * * * * Puffed Wheat tastes best in bowls of milk. It is also the greatest food. So Puffed Wheat in milk forms the ideal dish for supper or luncheon or bedtime. * * * * Puffed Rice is best for dainties. Mix it with your fruits. Use in candy making, on ice cream, etc. These flimsy, flavory morsels form an ideal blend with fruit. They add Steam Exploded Wheat — Rice — Corn Every food cell is exploded by Prof. Anderson’s proc- ess. Thus every atom is fitted to digest. Puffed Grains are the best cooked cereals in existence, also the most delightful. ot Enjoy Them To the Full—Why Ever a Day Without Them? You know no cereal tidbits so delightful. Every Puffed Grain is a food confection. Then why not serve a-plenty? Nothing that children like so well is nearly so good for them. Like Nut-Meats, Puffed and Toasted what crust adds to a shortcake or a pie. * * ok Ok Corn Puffs are sweet, flavory globules, made from hominy. One delightful way of serving is with melted butter. This for a breakfast dainty, with cream or without. And for after-school delights—for children to eat dry. * * # * * All are equally delightful in the morning, served with cream and sugar. And nothing else made from wheat, rice or corn so meets every food re- quirement. When you don’t serve Puffed Grains, think what your people miss. Puffed Wheat Puf Rice All Bubble Grains — All Steam Exploded Also Puffed Rice Pancake Flour fed Corn Puffs Fluffy, Nut-Like Pancakes Now we mix ground Puffed Rice in a pan- cake flour they seem to be made with a nut-flour. You have never tasted pancakes nearly so delicious. v, Ask for Puffed Rice Pancake Flour. It is self- raising—simply add milk or water. It makes the pancakes fluffy and Use Like Nuts in home candy making. Also as garnish on ice cream. For Your Soups they form crisp toasted wafers, fragile as snowflakes. Crisp and Butter for hungry children to eat like peanuts after school. They are food confections. 3306 pend _ Vi

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Heraldic Pattern in Silver T= spoons, knives and forks should be matched by Tea and Coffee Sets, Vegetable Dishes, Meat Platters, Trays and even Vases. The designs here illus- trated are two of the several 1847 Rogers Bros. patterns in which a com- plete service may be had. This feature is distinctive of this brand of silverplate which has always made a strong appeal to lovers of beauty and quality. At leading dealers; also illustrated in our folder “ R-28.” INTERNATIONAL SILVER COMPANY, Meriden, Conn. The Family Plate for Seventy Years Fashion Decrees Harmony Louvain Pattern ry A HOME JOURNAL April, 1920 The Moreton Mystery (CONTINUED FROM PAGE 114) give an account of the occurrences after din- ner, such of them as you know?”’ “Why, I went with the rest to the veranda and remained there until we were startled by seeing Miss Allen burst open the study door and rush out through the library; then run back again into the study. Then Burke came out to us and said that Miss Allen wanted me to come at once to Mr. Moreton. We ran into the study and found Miss Allen and the chauffeur trying to lift Mr. Moreton from the floor. Almost at the first glance I saw that it was a case of poisoning. And I feared hydrocyanic even before I detected the odor and the traces of the poison in the mouth and on the lips. Then the bottle on the desk” —the doctor pointed—‘“‘told the story. He was quite dead. As I stated last night, he could have been dead only a few minutes—I feel positive, for less than twenty minutes. I looked for marks of vio- lence, but found none. Ofcourse my examina- tion was hasty, for Mrs. Moreton was totally overcome. When she was out of danger, I felt that I ought to make a more thorough examination. So, assisted by Mr. Jowett, I made a very careful examination which satis- fied us both; there was not a mark, not a single indication of violence.” ‘Doctor Levene, you have been a frequent visitor in this household; have you noticed any change in Mr. Moreton of late, anything out of the normal, I mean?” GAIN the doctor showed evident embar- rassment. ‘‘I scarcely know how toan- swer,” hesaid finally. “‘ I have noted for some time that Mr. Moreton was not his usual self. At times he was depressed and at other times he was highly irritable. But I have no knowledge derived from a confidence on Mr. Moreton’s part.” “On Mrs. Moreton’s part, then, Doctor Levene?” Levene made a quick gesture of distress. “Mr. Coroner, I simply can’t answer that question. Mrs. Moreton is here; if, after hearing her, you demand it, I suppose I shall have to speak—unless Mr. Parker can tell me that a physician is not legally bound to betray a patient’s confidence?”’ He looked in flushed helplessness at Parker. There was no occasion for Parker to an- swer, for the coroner said promptly: “That matter can wait, Doctor Levene. Mrs. Moreton, I must ask you a few questions now.” HE started and shrank. For the most part she had sat sunk in her chair, her thin, heavily ringed hand shading her eyes. Only occasionally had she dropped her hand and straightened, as when Driscoll had asserted Nixie’s position in the family. She now looked at the coroner with dilated eyes. He continued: ‘Mrs. Moreton, we have had testimony regarding various occur- rences; there has been much said for and against the theory that Mr. Moreton was in a frame of mind that might result in the tragedy, evidences of which are before us. Will you please tell us whether to your knowledge Mr. Moreton was harassed, was under strain, was unusually worried, or was brooding over some matter or some subject?” The room was very still for the moment before she spoke. ‘‘ Yes, he was,”’ she said clearly. “Will you tell us what it was?” Vivid spots of color showed in her cheeks. “Tt was the girl we took into our home seven years ago—Nixola Allen. She was the cauée.”’ CONTINUED IN THE MAY HOME JOURNAL Making Politics Safe for Democracy (CONTINUED FROM PAGE 39) professions. Class education in America— that was what it meant. One morning the principal of a school on the lower East Side arrived to find thirty enraged, non-English-speaking Yiddish mothers gathered in her office. This Gary system—they would none of it! They would fight first. And they looked it. Had they not brought their children to this America just in order that the bright ones among them might have this book learning and not be brought up just to work with their hands? “My Ikey,”’ shouted Mrs. Bodinsky, “‘he should be a lawyer. He shall not work by machinery.” Thus the great wave of sentiment against the rich man’s mayor was started, and it carried everything before it. Every “issue” brought near it took on the color of the wave. The grand impression, if carefully and unscrupulously nourished, is what carries. Everything else is helpless before it. In this same campaign an attempt was made to show how well the mayor had administered the various relief institutions of the city, bringing them to a remarkable state of effi- ciency. In particular, he had shortened the route to the City Hospital on Blackwell’s Island, so that the trip could be made in a very much shorter time. This was drama- tized in moving pictures shown from trucks at street corners. The Stuff Campaigns are Made Of UT unfortunately it is hard to dramatize such things so that exactly the right emphasis comes out. The first part of the picture showed that in going by the old, long route the poor sufferer sometimes suc- cumbed. The latter part of the picture showed how easily the trip could be made after the route had been shortened. But the prejudiced crowd seemed entirely unable to take in the second half of the picture. They saw the poor sufferer die in the first half and nodded their heads knowingly: ‘You see, the poor fellow died. This is what hap- pens to the poor people who are taken to Blackwell’s Island. We must have a mayor who cares for the poor.” Of such stuff are campaigns made. Women voters have shown a distinct tend- ency to emphasize the non-partisan meet- ing at which the rival candidates for each office present their claims. When a candi- date gets up on the same platform with his opponent (doubtless with a “feeling of great trepidity,” as one of them said), witha limited number of minutes in which to speak, knowing that there are persons of all parties in the audience and that he has to answer questions, he knows that there isn’t much time for any of the “principles of the grand old party” stuff. He has to show cause why he and not the other fellow should be elected. The speeches at one such non-partisan meeting last autumn were the most busi- nesslike campaign speeches I have ever heard. Some of the candidates tried the old jokes and tricks, but they showed up badly. For the most part the candidates told what their training had been, why they wanted the office, what they thought they could make of it. “The Man for the Job” | A SMALL place it is easy enough for the average voter to know the virtues and the failings of the candidates. But in the larger towns and cities it offers great difficulties. “T found myself voting for A and B be- cause they were the only candidates I didn’t know something about,” said one woman after casting her first vote. ; But most of us do not know anything about the candidates. The people, the voters, do not know them; and the group that chooses the candidates knows that the people don’t know them, and so they choose them for reasons of their own and not for reasons of public service. The trouble 1s that to the politicians who make up the ticket all jobs look alike. There are just so many vacancies and so many of the deserving to be “taken care of.” “We will now siate Jones for the borough presidency. If he doesn’t get it we must fix him up with the county clerkship.” “Smith would be better for that?” “But the thing’s impossible. Jones '5 ‘next man’ on our list. It has got to be CONTINUED ON PAGE 118 a

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April, 1920 HOME JOURNAL HAIR THAT STAYS YOUNG... he Friendly Assistance of Your Ten Fingers and Packers Tar Soap Bic CTT. \ SA Mat > EALTHY people rarely “appreciate” their good health. When sickness comes, the great blessing of good health is brought home to them. By the same token, men and women with healthy hair and scalp very often do not realize the hair’s need of systematic attention. The result is that sooner or later they find themselves suffering from dandruff or some equally insidious form of scalp disease. Straightway they regret their carelessness and set about restoring their hair to its former healthy state. This may take time, for Nature does not readily forgive transgression of her laws. As a result of long neglect, the scalp glands and tissues are “run down” and unresponsive. The cells need systematic building up. Circulation must be stimulated, in order to bring the blood to the impoverished hair roots. Systematic shampooing is of great benefit in stimulating the sluggish scalp cells to a proper sense of their responsibility. A good soap for this purpose is Packer’s Tar Soap, which has stood the test of from your shampooing forty-odd years’ use and is still made according to the original formula. To get the best results : : : Wet hair and scalp with warm But even “Packer’s” will not work its natural wonders unaided. I Your ten fingers must be called upon to work the lather into every TT . . part of the scalp Tar Soap and with the finger tips water. Make a lather with Packer’s Th; : : work this lather thoroughly into This achieves two important results: J+ thoroughly cleanses the ; mugmy scalp. It “wakes up” the cells and gives them the vigor necessary for : supporting healthier hair. minutes. Then rinse the lather from hair and scalp with clear, every part of the scalp for several As you continue the regular use of Packer’s Tar Soap, you will note a markedly quickened “tone” to your scalp, as well as a gratify- warm water and continued ma- ing improvement in the appearance of your hair. Rejoice—for now nipulation. Lastly, rub the scalp your once neglected hair is getting back to normal. and hair as dry as possible, with _ At this point there is a danger, too—the old danger of dropping back warm, soft towels. If the drying is into careless ways and having your well-earned reward go for naught. done quickly, there is little danger Systematic care is the price of healthy hair—so don’t relax your of taking cold after shampooing. efforts—but observe shampoo time with faithful regularity. And be sure to follow the simple directions which come with every cake of ' ‘ Packer’s Tar Soap. This way lies scalp cleanliness, the recognized How often to shampoo? basis of lasting hair health. In shampooing, regularity is of Packer’s Tar Soap is very easy to obtain. The drug store that the utmost importance, Under does not sell it is a rare exception. But perhaps you would like to try asample. A half-cake will be sent you on receipt of 10c. Packer's Liquid Tar Soap is recommended to those who may prefer @ shampoo soap in liquid form. 10c will bring a liberal sample bottle. An interesting and helpful Manual is issued by the Packer Man- f . ufacturing Company, embodying the results of their own experience A soothing lotion during the past forty-odd years, together with the best of current medical opinion as compiled by a New York physician. A copy of rigatene s this practical treatise, “The Hair and Scalp—Modern Care and ective in dry and irritated con- l'reatment,” is sent free on request. You will be glad to own a copy. ditions of the skin. =A liberal ; sample bottle will be sent on THE PACKER MANUFACTURING COMPANY receipt of ten cents. Depr. 87 D, 120 West 32ND STREET New York City normal conditions men should shampoo once a week, and women once in two weeks. Packer’s CHARM is quickly ef- —.

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Making Politics Safe for Democracy (CONTINUED FROM PAGE 116) Jones. We can have Smith prominently mentioned and all that; it ought to help him. But Jones is the man for the job.” The trouble is that, as likely as not, neither Jones nor Smith is at all “the man for the job.” There may be a few public oflices that could be held by one man just as well as by another; but there are not many. Reasons That are Not Reasons NE of the things women voters can doand one theyshowsome signs of doing is toin- sist that the qualifications of the men named have some relation to the offices for which they are running. A few weeks ago some of us were asked to vote for a gertain young man for alderman because he had raised $850,000 in fifteen minutes at a wrestling match during the Third Liberty Loan cam- paign. Good work! He probably has an excellent voice and plenty of “pep.” But among the aldermen then serving we already had plenty of voice and plenty of pep. What we lacked was students of city government and of city budgets. Why should a man be elected surrogate because as a state assemblyman he helped cut the telephone rates, the most widely ad- vertised fact in his campaign for the surro- gate’s office? It was an excellent piece of public service, but there ought to be some other reason for making him judge and, of course, there is. He is “next man” and is being moved up from the state senate, at a few thousands a year,to the surrogate’s court, at fifteen thousand dollars a year. But the qualifications of a judge are really quite specific. Before me is an election “flyer” containing the “Reasons Why” we should vote for a certain candidate for high office. They are, in the following order: 1. Because he was a poor boy. 2. Because his wife was a factory girl at six dollars a week. 3. Because he was decorated for bravery in the war. 4. Be- cause he is a watchdog of the public funds. Now reason number four must be regarded as an aspiration rather than a fact. It should have been stated in the future tense, for the candidate had had as yet no watch- dog opportunities. The other reasons show something about a man, but they might be true of ten thousand men, all of whom would nevertheless be poor candidates for that par- ticular office. Questionnaires That Really Question N EXPERIMENT rather widely tried by women voters in order to test the qualifications of the candidates of all parties for a given public office has been a pre- election questionnaire. They get up a ques- tionnaire asking leading questions about the burning issues and any others that they want to know about, mail it to the nominees of all parties, tabulate the answers, print the tabulation and mail it as widely as possible to the registered voters of the district. It must be said that the men have been quite as interested as the women in getting hold of the returns from the questionnaires. The tabulation sent out to each voter contains the record of the candidate in brief, his age, and whether he is a regular party man or calls himself an independent. It then gives his answers to the questions in the questionnaire. A questionnaire before me, for nominees for city aldermen, asks whether the nominee is for or against legislation for the strict enforcement of the prohibition amendment, the establishment of terminal markets, city purchases without the adver- tising of bids, and so on. The questionnaire for the nominees for the state legislature asks such questions as the following: Whether they are for or against the repeal of the direct primary act; whether they are for a state system of health insurance; whether they are for raising the age of compulsory school attendance to six- teen years; whether they are for doing away with all party emblems at the head of the ballot ‘in order that a more intelligent voter may be developed.” It is strange how a direct answer, a yes or a no, shows up, and how the lack of it shows up too. Some of the answers are so full of modifications and qualifications that they could as safely be taken for yes as for no— an old political trick. ‘The questions there- fore should be so framed as to be foolproof, and so as to be capable of a yes or no answer, even from the most philosophical of men. One young candidate, open to the wisdom of getting a reputation for liberality with one group and a reputation for mature conserva- tism with the other, took advantage of the blanket question, “Are you for municipal ownership of public utilities?” and answered it thus: “T am in favor of statutes that will permit it, but I am against schemes of the kind that look toward the bankruptcy of the city or the discomfort of our citizens’; which is safe and virtuous all around. But the effectiveness of all this testing of candidates, this real challenging for public service, depends not upon the intelligence committees that do the work, but upon the mass of average citizens that profit by it— if they do. I know of one community where a few months ago a group of new women voters got together most thorough data and questionnaires for every candidate. One day just before election in came one particular Mrs. Average Voter, who said she had heard of the committee’s work and would be glad to see it. She went through all these nonpartisan records with apparent fidelity and zeal. When she was about to go, and was asked if she would like to take with her such of.the material as was portable and in- tended for circulation, she said: ‘‘No; thank you very much; I shall, as usual, vote the straight Democratic ticket.” Intelligence committees have no field of service among such as she. Holding the Elected Accountable | phd all the fair words of questionnaire answerers, even the noblest, may be vain. Not what they say, but what they do is the important thing about candidates. While we are campaigning we watch them vigilantly and when they are elected we drop them. That is where the whole trouble be- gins. And yet the safeguard of representa- tive government is the accountability of the elected representative to the people that elect him. It isa common complaint that our legisla- tive halls are dominated by certain “inter- ests,” whose lobbyists are constantly on hand to keep representatives informed. The fact of the matter is usually that the “‘inter- ests” are the only group that have shown any interest, even if it is the purest self- interest. A thousand protesting citizens anywhere will find themselves a very power- ful “interest” in the eyes of their repre- sentative. We do not require accountability from our representative, and we do not get it. Around election time he writes us and tells us what he has stood for in the way of saving the na- tion and what he has “steadfastly opposed.” He rarely finds it necessary to refer anything to his constituents except at fence-repairing time. It is understood that he has a few definite responsibilities toward his com- munity. He is to see to it that a new post- office building comes through to his home town out of the general pork barrel, and that the old swamp, the source of the cat-tails ot his youth, gets reasonable representation in the rivers and harbors bill; and he is ex- pected, as a matter of decorum, to send his “leave to print” remarks back home once 4 year or so. The Only Way HE women voters in some places seem to feel the need of having the representative represent. One successful woman candidate for a state legislature is reported to have made already, several months before she enters upon her duties, a card index of the voters of her district, arranged according to occupations—physicians, grocers, dentists, and so on. If a measure should come up which she thinks will be of special interest to any or all the groups, she is going to send out circulars or postal cards asking them how they feel about it. And she is going to arrange frequent week-end meetings to con- fer with her constituents. : So far, so good. But the arrangement 15 one-sided. The constituents have their part to play. They should follow her record care- fully. And they themselves should arrange some of the meetings and should do the ques- tioning, and she should do the answering. Is this kind of continuous interest too much to expect of average men and women voters in America? It is the only way in the world to mak: pol- ilics safe for democracy.

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Ow OOS lO WS = —lielS _— = April, 1920 HOME JOURNAL is Any dealer has a free right to sell Certain-teed products. t is a fixed Certain-teed policy to keep down the cost of paints and varnishes to the consumer by offering them in free competition through any dealer who wants to sell them. In addition to Certain-teed varnishes and paints there are many other Certain-teed household helps, such as varnish stain, radiator paints, floor wax, furniture polish, stovepipe enamel, bathroom enamel, and the like— all of the highest quality. Your furniture will always look its best if it Your floors will be protected against heel Window and door screens must rea with is cleaned and polished with Certain-teed marks and scratches if they are preserved with spring. Brighten yours, and protect them from Polish. Certain-teed Floor Varnish. rust with Certain-teed Screen Paint. Smee proeengnnn ne ——— PAINT-VARNISH-ROOFING & RELATED -BUILDING - ERTAIN-TEED Floor Varnish makes the varnish- ing of your floors easy and convenient. It quickly dries dust-free, and overnight becomes hard enough to walk upon. It is so tough that it does not scratch, mar, or show heel marks; it may be washed with cold or warm water, and with soap, without discoloring or turning white. Its convenience, superiority and moderate cost are typical of the many Certain-teed products for beautifying and preserving the house and household things. ITH Certain-teed Screen Paint the framework and wire netting of your window screens and screen doors can be made to last longer and look better. It prevents rusting and will not clog the meshes. One pint is sufficient for six average-size window screens. Its saving service is especially appealing this year be- cause of the price of wire netting. ERTAIN-TEED Polish is so easy to use. It polishes beautifully, and makes old surfaces look new, bring- ing ou‘ the full beauty and natural grain of the wood. It cleans while it polishes and dries to a pleasing lustre that will not stick, gum, or catch dirt. Like all Certain-teed Household Products, it is sold by dealers everywhere. Certain-teed Products Corporation General Offices, Saint Louis Offices and Warehouses in Principal Cities Certartte ~ = = — — — 5 Varnish ‘os CERTAINTY OF QUALITY AND GUARANTEED SATISFACTION - CERTAIN-TEED ma

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120 HOME JOURNAL April, 19 Quaker Flour Made by the Quaker Oats Company Which Grade Do You Want Madam, this is the question to decide about flour. There are many grades. We make several grades ourselves. Two lower grades of bread flour come from.the very wheat we use in making Quaker Flour. Choice Inner Bits In Quaker Flour we use about half of the wheat kernel—just the choicest part. In our lower grades we use the balance of the wheat. But the name Quaker doesn’t go on them. * * * * We make Quaker Flour for lovers of super-quality. People expect that in a Quaker product. They get it in all Quaker cereals. Millions delight in these extra- grade cereals, and we make this flour for them. Chemists constantly analyze it, bakers constantly bake with it—right in our mills. So every sack maintains these Quaker standards. A Flour Sensation The result has been amazing. Quaker Flour has won a million One has grown to four mills, with a daily users already. mill capacity of 10,000 barrels. To brought a new conception of fine flour. And know it demand it. Find it out. Ask your grocer to send a sack, or get it if he lacks it. as much, or just as much. See what this grade means. countless homes it has housewives who Lesser flours cost about The Quaker Qals @mpany Quaker Flour Mills Akron, Ohio Peterborough, Ontario Cedar Rapids, Iowa. Saskatoon, Saskatchewan In our Canadian mills we make a different flour to conform to Government requirements Quaker Biscuit Flour This is a special flour made from special wheat for dainties. It is self-raising, and to keep it fresh it is packed in sealed found packages with tops. Use this flour for your finest foods—for biscuits, pancakes, cakes, doughnuts, etc. It differs from bread flour for these uses. Quaker Farina This is choice white bits of inner wheat in granulated form. It is fancy farina—the finest grade possible—without a fancy price. Serve as a breakfast dainty. Use for griddle cakes, fritters and waffles. These granulations give to such foods much added fascination. They Who Walk in Darkness (CONTINUED FROM PAGE 20) become stale. I glanced at my kitchenette, with its carefully arranged tiny collection of cooking things; just enough for one, and it looked like a plaything. My eyes swept the living room and all I could think of was one of those dead, silent model rooms shown in department stores where the chairs are roped so that no one can sit in them, and a price list reposes on the bureau, and men visitors are uncertain whether they should remove their hats or not. Everything is there ex- cept life, and nothing is there except furni- ture. I walked into my bedroom and turned on the lights and stared about. Everything here was my own and yet—and yet every- thing was rigid. I shivered as though chilly. I came back to my rocking-chair and buried my face in my hands, trying to battle away this strange mood. I was like one in a museum. Even the silence about me op- pressed. I rose and threw the window wide open to let in the street sounds. Taxicabs were hurrying past and the shadows of men and women. What were they doing out there, those men and women? In the dark anything might happen to them. Every time they passed a side street something might spring out at them. The dark, instead of shutting in the world, opens it to the fourth dimension. With all arbitrary bar- riers blotted out, with horizons obliterated, there is no telling how far or where streets go. HE night called to me—to me, Connie Davison. I could not believe it at first. Standing there in safety, the night called for me to go adventuring, to risk a little. I drew back from the window, but something within urged me on. “Once outside the door anything may happen,” said the night. “And anything is better than nothing.” I turned and put on my hat and coat. I left my room in darkness and uncer- tainly made my way down the stairs and to the street. I did not know which way to turn. It made no difference. That in itself appealed to my strange mood. I swung off to the right and up the street. I had not gone more than a block before Stephen Bond passed me, turned, and came back. ‘‘Connie,” he cried uncertainly, “is that you?” My heart beat up in my throat. Honestly I had not expected him. For the moment I had not thought of him. Yet when he spoke it was as though I had gone out to meet him. It was as though it had been his voice that spoke through the voice of the night. “Yes, Stephen,” I answered. “What are you doing out here?” “‘T don’t know,” I answered truthfully. “Where are you going?” “T don’t know.” At that he threw back his head and laughed. “I know, Connie,” he said. ‘‘ You came out to meet me, and we’re going ad- venturing together.” “T never thought of you,” I answered. “That doesn’t make any difference. I was thinking of you. I went back to the club, and I couldn’t get away from you. I sat down and wrote reams and reams, and I was just going to bribe the elevator girl to deliver this to-night to your room. See.” He held out a big, fat letter. I reached for it. “No,” he said. “I don’t think I'll give this to you now. I'd rather tell you what’s in it.” E TOOK my arm, and we continued up the street to nowhere in particular. Then in a low voice he told me all over again of his love, and I listened. Yes, I listened without interrupting as one listens to music, listened with a strange tingle all over me. I wasnot normal. Iknewthat. Every sénse had suddenly grown acute and all values were distorted. I felt as one feels when looking through opera glasses while trying to walk. I was a little dizzy as though upon a height. I had the consciousness of being in danger and yet instead of being frightened I was thrilled. “Connie, dear,” he pressed me, “why do you fight so hard against loving me?” “T—I don’t think I am fighting very hard to-night,”’ I said. He stopped me, turned me about to face him, and looked so deep into my eyes that I felt as though he were searching my soul. ““You—you do love me?” he demanded. “Stephen,” I cried, “I don’t know any- thing except—except that I’m here.” “And you wouldn’t be here unless you loved me.” “T—I don’t think so,” I admitted. “Heaven, how I love you as you stand there!’”’ he breathed. Swiftly, before I was aware, he stooped and brushed my lips. I drew back in horror. ‘‘ What have you done?” I moaned. “T have kissed you,” he answered. “J have kissed you as I shall kiss you a million times more.” Then I did an absurd thing; I cried. I pressed my hands to my face and cried. He drew me into the shadow of a building and, with his arm about my waist, tried to com- fort me. There was no one in sight, but had there been a hundred people I do not think I should have seen them. I felt isolated. |] was in some new world, with Stephen Bond the only other living soul. I was afraid, but glorified by my fear. I could still escape by running, but I did not run. And my lips burned. ef EAR heart of mine,” he whispered, “I shouldn’t have frightened you like that. Please don’t cry. I won’t do it again. Look up at me.” But I could not do that. “Listen,” he ran on. “I want you to marry me right away, without any long wait- ing. I have alittle means of my own, enough to buy us a home somewhere.” He laughed gently and added: “I’m afraid you'll get away from me.” “How can I get away from you now?” I choked. “You never will, if I can help it,’ he answered. ‘‘You’ve given me a long chase and a hard chase. Now I propose to keep you safe—and happy.” I caught my breath. Then I raised my eyes to his boyish, eager, handsome face. “No, Stephen,” I said, “‘ you’ll neither make me safe nor altogether happy.” “You wait and see,” he cried. It was not necessary for me to wait in order to see. ‘‘Take me home now, Stephen,” I pleaded. “Once before we go say ‘Stephen, I love you.’” I hesitated only a second. Then I said: ‘Stephen, I love you.” I was speaking the truth as clearly as I was able to see it. Yet it was the truth also that even at that moment he was not making me altogether happy. I was all mixed up and wanted to be by myself. I was at once on the verge of tears and laughter, I who had never known what hysteria was. My chief desire was to get away from this man, to whom I had just made my stark confession. Stephen must have felt this, and it wor- ried him. Yet though I knew I was hurting him, I did not slacken my steps until we reached my apartments. Then with almost a curt “good night” I left him. NCE in my rooms I locked my door and threw myself on my bed, as breathless as though I had run a long race. My cheeks were burning and my heart pounding in my throat. And as I stared into the dark of my room all I could see was the dear, laughing, hand- some face of Stephen Bond, and his far- seeing eyes as they had looked when he stooped above my lips. Then I hid my face in the pillow and saw him even then. It was as though again he tried to comfort me, but he used again those words that only served to rouse me. “T will keep you safe,” he had said. That is exactly what he would not do, because he could not do it. He was tearing me away from safety. He should never have come into my life, had he wished me to be safe. It was before he appeared that I was safe, as safe as it is possible for a woman to make herself. Then, when I returned to my room and threw myself down on my bed, even my thoughts were my own. Now I began to worry lest I had been too short with him at the door. He had left me wor- ried, and he was very careless and absent- minded at best, so that perhaps in crossing a street he might—some machine might —— I sat up suddenly in bed. He was living at his club and I’d have given a week’s pay to have dared to ring him up to make sure he had reached there safely. Thank heaven, I still had left some little sense of propriety, which spared me from doing that. I sank back on my pillow, but I was not wholly reassured until the night had passed CONTINUED ON PAGE 124 20

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0 April, 1920 HOME JOURNAL 121 — e e e o it is more economical, convenient and . e ° satisfying to use canned fruits and vegetables e e j R even during the fresh fruit season. | By Hester M. (onklin and Pauline D. Partridge Consultants on Domestic Science Subjects; contributors to the Delineator, Woman’s Home Companion and Pictorial Review; formerly teachers of Home Economics in New York and California; connected with the Food Administration during the war; authors of ‘‘Wheatless and Meatless Days"; writers and lecturers on household topics ie a time like this when living by making several dishes from the con- CANNED FRUITS, VEGETABLES : costs are high and everyexpendi- tents of one can. We in this way fre- ture must be closely watched, quently prepare two or three dishes for AND FOOD SPECIALTIES only the most careful investigation and_ different days from one can of Dex ; 1 —s. of food values and food Monte Pineapple. A few slices cut up S costs will enable the housewife to prac- with dates and nuts and served with 9 Rs tice real economy on her table. mayonnaise make an excellent salad. If Over da hundred delicious vartel [Ay tu It was with this spirit that we ap- we have cake that becomes a little dry proached the problem of determining we line a serving dish with thin slices I whether it is cheaper touse DEL MonTE and over it put a little pineapple and . Canned Fruits and Vegetables than the syrup. Thoroughly chilled it makes an | fresh product. We knew in advance appealing dessert. We prepare delicious . that the Det Monte Brand offered us_ fritters by mixing some grated pine- . a higher quality and more uniform ex- apple with boiled rice, forming into flat r cellence than we could hope to get by cakes, dipping in fine crumbs and brown- | buying fresh fruits and vegetables in ing in the frying pan. . the open market, and that they were, of Our Det Monte breakfast is always course, infinitely more convenient to hailed with delight. Simple and easy to d use. But aside from these advantages prepare, it consists of hot griddle cakes t we wanted to ascertain with unques- served with Det Monte Apricots. y tioned accuracy whether, quantity for Sometimes for variety we have French s quantity, they gave us a saving in dol- __ toast in place of the griddle cakes. We lars and cents over the fresh product.’ use only one half the fruit for breakfast. The experiments we conducted dur- The remainder we put in deep ramekins, I ing the past season, in which the differ- one to each, with the flat side up. We ° ent fresh products were carefully com- fill the cups with hot oatmeal and the . pared with the same canned varieties, next day they make a delicious break- have satisfied us beyond the question of fast course with milk or cream. ‘ a doubt that from the standpoint of A few apricots pressed through a ‘ quantity Det Monte Canned Fruits’ strainer make a tempting spread for h and Vegetables are cheaper than fresh_ the children’s sandwiches to carry in 1 fruits and vegetables even in the height the school lunch box. A of the season. From thedelicious De, Monte Plums When you consider, for example, that we make a pudding that we do not wait ” it takes about a quarter peck of fresh for Christmas to serve. We arrange a vegetables such as peas or tomatoes to layer of plums between two layers of e make the contents of one large Det buttered crumbs in a greased pudding e Monte can, it does not require very’ dish and over it pour some of the syrup. p much figuring to ascertain which is the Bake till the crumbs are brown. We use more economical way to buy them. the syrup from Det Monte Plums, hot y A comparison of the price of almost or cold, for a pudding sauce. A plum a any fresh fruit or vegetable with that of pie may be made from some of the * thecanned article will usually beenough plums by placing a layer of them in a toprovetherealeconomyof Dre.Monte baked pie crust and spreading with a Products to the housewife. And that with- meringue or whipped cream. n tie ; 9 out even considering her own time and From the famous Det Monte Peaches labor and the cost of fuel used in cooking we make a particularly satisfying hot ‘ the fresh product, if cocking isnecessary. dessert by placing halves of peaches in a The detail involved and the wide line greased baking dish. To 3 stiffly beaten I: of varieties handled do not permit of egg whites we add 7; teaspoon of salt outlining our actual experimentsin these and '/, cup of the peach syrup. This we I columns. Our results have been socon- pour over the peaches and bake in a h | vincing, however, that we unhesitat- slow oven 30 minutes. It should be t | ingly emphasize and reiterate the con- served with a custard sauce made from Il clusion stated above that quantity for the egg yolks and the remainder of s quantity there is a saving in actual dol- the syrup from the peaches. Halves of , larsand cents when Det Monte Canned Dex Monte Peaches rolled in cocoanut 2 Foods are purchased even at the height and served with a spoonful of the syrup " of the season for the fresh product. But are delicious. there is much more to economy than We have found Det Monte Spinach quantity, and to gauge the real value of Loaf to be one of our most popular - Det Monte Products you must also’ dishes. For this we use a cup of spinach, : realize how superior they are in quality which we chop fine and combine with 7 to almost any fresh product that can be _1!/, cups of crumbs, | beaten egg, | tea- bought in the open market. spoon of salt, % teaspoon each of pepper To begin with, all Det Monte Prod- and nutmeg and 2 tablespoons of lemon d ucts are the selection of the finest juice. This we put in a greased loaf pan, Ss crops—each grown where it attains its and if we are preparing a meal on top s highest perfection. Think what that of the stove, we steam it over some of y means! Would your grocer allow you, the boiling food for 20 minutes; if we without extra charge, to pick from his are having an “oven dinner’’ we bake a | baskets only the choicest peaches, from it for the same length of time. Served 4 | each of his boxes the ripest berries, and surrounded with hot Det Monte To- 4 | from each bunch only the tenderest mato Sauce it is quite as pleasing to | asparagus? But Det Monte does this the eye as to the appetite. e | for you, casting aside all the seeds, skins, Speaking of Tomato Sauce, we have e | cores, pits, pods and imperfect fruits or found that it should occupy a place on e | vegetables and leaving youonlythesolid our kitchen shelf beside the salt and food in the very highest grade obtain- pepper. It adds a piquant flavor to the able. Waste isentirely climinatedfor you. gravy, sauce or dressing, and in a fish hed All the work of preparation, too, has cocktail it is quite indispensable. g | been done, the Dex Monte Products A fevorite luncheon dish we often re | are ready for the table as they come prepare is made with Det Monte As- ye | from the can, uniforrn in size and color paragus. We place sliced hard-cooked e | and goodness, so that there are no pre- eggs in a greased baking dish, over this 0 cious moments spent in paring or clean- a layer of asparagus, a white sauce is ) ing and no fuel used in cooking. Youare poured over all and buttered crumbs are 7 buying a finished product in place of raw sprinkled over the top, and it is browned . material, you are saving time and_ ina hot oven. A recipe obtained from — | money and you have a larger amount an Italian cook book is that of roliing . | of a much higher grade of food than you asparagus in fine crumbs and browning s | could possibly obtain in any other way. _ in hot olive oil. - | _ Being ready to serve at all times and These are but a few of countless ways g in all seasons, there is no end to the in which we have used the Dex Monte y simple and convenient ways to use the Products with economy in our daily e many Det Monte varieties in making menu. For a more comprehensive list a; every-day meals better. the housewife should have “Det Monte y Although every bit of Det Monte Recipes of Flavor.” A free copy may be ruit may be served just as it comes obtained by sending a post-card request rt from the can, it may be varied by alittle to DEPARTMENT A, CALIFORNIA d extra preparation, and we are often able PACKING CORPORATION, SAN to practice an easy additional economy ~ FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA. | |

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HOME JOURNAL A Stunning New Sweater You Will Want to Make Complete Directions for Making Materials required: 4 balls Fleisher’s Shetland Floss, Lemon, No.8; 9 balls Fleisher’s Angora Wool, White; 1 pair No.5 needles; 1 pair No. 11 needles. Sizes 36 to 38. (For other sizes see below.) 3 stitches equal linch. 5 rows equal 1 inch. Pe ; = With the No. 11 needles, cast on 60 stitches. - :. ie g 7; 2 A Decrease 1 stitch each side, every 3 inches, 5 times. 7 ae, @ 4 : . Then 3 inches even. : Cast on 9 stitches each side 5 times, for sleeves. Knit 16 rows even. Next row: knit 64 (place these on a stitch-holder), bind off 12, knit 64. On these last 64 stitches, knit 18 rows even. Then bind off for sleeve in the same way as you cast on. Then increase on sides of front, to correspond with the back. Bind off. Take uP stitches from stitch-holder, and shape the same as for first front. Sew up seams. With the Angora and No. 5 needles, cast on 16 stitches. Knit even until strip is long enough for collar and fronts. Sew to sweater to form turn-back. Cuffs: With Angora, cast on 16 stitches. Knit 10 inches. Bind off. Sew on for a turn-back cuff. Belt: With Angora, cast on 16 stitches. Knit 38 inches. For sizes 32 to 34, cast on 54 stitches for back. Cast on 9 stitches 4 times, for sleeves. Knit 14 rows even. Next row: knit 50, bind off 10, knit 50. Then 16 rows even. For sizes 40 to 42, cast on 66 stitches for back. Knit 18 rows even, for sleeve. Next row: knit 68, bind off 14, knit 68. On these last stitches, knit 20 rows even. Other details of directions are the same as for sizes 36 to 38. ° In order to obtain the smart appearance of this sweater, The Fleisher Yarns must be used. Their softness, evenness, and beautiful coloring always insure the best results. The Magnolia Sweater, made of Fleisher’s Shetland Floss Posed by Dorothy Leeds © 1920S. B.& B. W. Fleisher, Inc. om / ‘PLEISHER'S: Women who give careful thought to their dress, rely as much upon Fleisher styles as upon Fleisher quality. The 17th edition of Fleisher Knitting and Crocheting Manual, price 35 cents, will be ready in a few weeks. The new book, which will be the most elaborate and artistic of its kind ever issued, will contain a wide range of the newest and smartest styles in all classes of knit-wear. Watch for it at the better stores. 4 S. B. & B. W. FLEISHER, Inc. Dept. 2414, Philadelphia, Pa. f The Fleisher Yarns ae Every Color in the Rai } ee’ © 1920S. B & B.W.F., Inc.

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124 HOME JOURNAL A — a - "hb es is i .& Foot suffering is so needless! No, no, no, you don’t have to endure any foot suffering. Science has made your escape so easy, so simple that you needn’t endure it another day—not one Do your feet tiré easily—lose their “spring’’—ache when you’ve walked a short distance? Are there pains in your insteps—a tender spot on your the internationally known foot spe- cialist, Dr. Wm. M. Scholl of Chicago. It has brought relief to millions of foot sufferers—wonderful relief— restoring their feet to heels? Do the soles of your feet burn? Do your feet per- spire? Do your toes feel pinched in your shoes—your nerves seem to be tied in a knot so that you must hurry home just to relax—to rest your aching feet and body? Watch out! It may tion. It eases be that the arches in- {7d muscles and your feet are weak, are sagging from their normal positions, the muscles and ligaments being strained from carrying your Dr. body’s weight. In that event, the distressing con- flat foot” is almost dition known as “ certainly ahead of you. To avert that, wisely. Give your arches some gentle Nature mechanical support. have this help. How to make sure of the correct support For weak or strained arches —arches that are break- ing down—there’s one support that has proved successful through years of use—Dr. Scholl’s Foot-Eazer, invented by Dr. Scholl’s Bunion Reducer protects the tender bunion from pressure and preserves the shape of the shoe. Price,60c each Dr. Scholl’s Foot Eazer gently holds the weak, falling, longitudinal arch in its correct posi- scientists there’s just one thing you can do perfect usefulness. Go today to the store in your com- munity that sells Dr. Scholl’s Appli- ances and Remedies. (Shoe and department It puts the spring back into your step— gives you grace and poise stores everywhere have them.) There you will find a graduate Practipedist —a foot expert— trained in Dr. Scholl’s own methods of giving foot comfort. He’ll gladly—without charge—demonstrate Scholl’s Foot-Eazer over your stocking, then fit it invisibly inside your shoe. One step—and you'll be convinced that your foot suffering has been needless! agree must With quick relief and permanent correction so easy, sO inexpensive to obtain, don’t, don’t go on suffering from foot troubles. Write for this free booklet oR | Distorted toes (bunions) are soon restored to normal action by Dr. Scholl’s Toe- Flex. Price, 50c each fr 7 For corns, callouses, en- larged or tender joints and blisters, Dr. Scholl’s Zin- Ox Corn, Bunion and Cal- lous Pads give quick and lasting relief. Price,35c box Dr. Scholl’s latest book- let is a practical talk to men and women: “How To Have Shapely, Strong and Comfortable Feet.” Ask for a copy; it’s free. The Scholl Mfg. Co., Dept. 104—213 W. Schiller St., Chicago, Ill. Branches in New York, Toronto, London and Paris. Dr. Scholl’s Walk-Strate Heel Pads in your shoes equalize the body’s weight, overcoming the tendency to run over the heels. Price, 35c pair Dr Scholls Foot Comfort Appliances There is a Dr. Scholl Appliance or Remedy for every foot trouble. At shoe and department stores everywhere They Who Walk in Darkness. (CONTINUED FROM PAGE 120) without any ominous rap on my door from the janitor with a telegram. And he had spoken of making me happy. He could not even do that, hard as he might try. He would only thrust cares and worries and responsibilities upon me, even as he was doing now. That was inevitable. One can- not love without suffering. At this moment, which should have been one of the supreme moments of my life, I saw Stephen Bond as clearly as ever I had scen him. My vision was unclouded. : As much as I loved him—and there was not a particle of doubt left in my mind about that—I was able to understand that he could not be greatly changed from the man he had always been. Granting his love for me, he would continue to be the same dear, irre- sponsible, adventurous Stephen, thinking al- ways a little more of himself than of anyone else, child ffshion. He would never mean any harm, but would go right on making those who loved him too much suffer. He would be sorry when told of it and—do it again. Brave and clean and truthful and adorable I knew him to be, but just a man, after all, with little appreciation of what a highly complex creature a woman is. ES, Stephen, I knew you well and loving you only made me know you the better. Perhaps that is the severest test to which a woman’s love can be put. It was what disturbed me from the beginning. It was what made me hesitate about taking the second step. For I began to question my- self if my love was big enough to endure the strain to which I knew it was going to be put. That is why I asked you not to see me for a month, not to communicate with me for a month. I must have time to work this situation out to my own satisfaction. I could never be sure of you, but I must be sure of myself. I must know that, if I undertook this venture, I should have the strength to see it through. I did not intend to be any quitter. There are women perhaps who, having been de- ceived into marriage, find a justifiable ex- cuse for sliding out from under their burdens, But certainly I could make no such com- plaint, nor intended to; for better or for worse meant to me a solemn promise. I did not propose to undertake this until I was willing to stick by my guns or, to drawa truer parallel, until I was willing to go up over Flanders as Stephen had done and fight the enemy wherever I found him and in what- ever numbers without thought of flight. WOULD be no cheater. If I played the game with Stephen Bond I would play it fair. I abhorred the type of woman who marries and then cheats to secure her own comfort, the comfort she was not woman enough to go out and earn for herself. If I played a lone game I’d play it alone and take my losses with my winnings; if I played a double game I meant to play that in the same spirit. If I had been any other sort I don’t think Stephen Bond would have loved me, and I’d have been ashamed of him if he had. If he had been any other sort I could not have loved him. And I did love him. As the days went by and I saw him only to nod good morning to in the office and good night to as he left, I realized what a power he had become in my life. The office, just because he was there, became more my home than my own rooms. Even the streets did, just because there was one chance in a thousand of pass- ing him. But once in my apartments that chance vanished. It was the one spot in the world where no chance at all of seeing him remained. And because of this those rooms became prison-like. So two weeks and three weeks and four weeks passed, and I was still asking myself if I had the stuff to see it through. CONTINUED IN THE MAY HOME JOURNAL Danny’s Gold Star (CONTINUED FROM PAGE 17) Martha’s egg-and-milk money paid for the wedding dance. The cottage rang with the shrieks of the company. Finnegan’s jazz band, consisting of a cornet, two banjos, a fiddle and drums and cymbals, played more wildly as the night advanced. The windows were thrown open and the riot of sound spread far through the swect spring evening. At midnight a neighbor came to inform them that Farmer Conly had been brought home from the hospital so that he might die in his own bed. The company paused to eat and drink and then put death aside again for the dance. In the kitchen Padraic stood beside his mistress as she cowered in a corner. A ridge of hair stood up straight from his spine and his muscles were taut. Occasionally his long white fangs would gleam in the dull light of the oil lamp on the table. Again the neigh- bor came. He was sent away with a volley of curses. Martha protested and the guests began to leave. When the last reveler had departed Nora entered the kitchen, her cheeks flaming, her black hair streaked about her face, wet with perspiration. ‘You're a fine one,’’ she panted, “driving off my friends.” She paused to control the swelling flood of vituperation. Martha could hear Michael in the front room muttering to himself. When she had finished her abuse Nora lifted a plate and hurled it against the wall. Pa- draic uttered a snarling protest and crouched for a spring. With a shriek she darted back through the door and closed it. “That dog’ll kill me! He’ll kill me!” she cried. ‘‘He started to jump on me!” " i fix him!” Martha heard the threat from Michael, heard him staggering about the front room in search of a weapon, and then Nora tearing at a little desk in which they kept a pistol. Martha locked the door and barricaded it with the table. ‘‘God in heaven, they don’t know what they’re doing!”’ she whispered to herself. “Let out that dog!” ordered Michael. She did not answer. “Let out that dog or I’ll fire through the door!”’ Murder was in the air. Padraic’s great ivories were all bared, his yellow eyes fastened on the door. “Michael!” called Martha. “Don’t shoot. Please don’t shoot. It’s the drink’s got you. Don’t, Michael.” “Let out that dog, I tell ya!” “Michael, it’s Good Friday. It’s Good Friday, Michael, with the Saviour hanging on the cross for all of «us, good and bad. Don’t ——” Pang! ARTHA’S hand went to her left temple, and she felt a little crisp place in her white hair where the bullet had singed it. Her thought was that Danny’s letter would come too late. Then her stout heart held her for another and final struggle. She found a heavy piece of twine, made it fast to the dog’s collar and slipped with him out of the back door, through the little piece of land she had spadetl up for her kitchen garden, and to the cowshed. There was the caress of coming morning 1n the air. The sky was a field of dusted silver and widely cast gems of gold. Toward the east, the morning star shone with steady light, as big, it seemed to her, as the gilt star on the Honor Roll. She stood a long time gazing at it as the noises within the cottage died down and blessed silence came again to the home and land her Danny’s sober indus- try had given her. Padraic rubbed against her skirt and the cow in the stall! lowed to her. Until the dawn began to creep into the heavens she stood and prayed, her simple but sublime faith never wavering, confident that at last her voice would reach God, that it would find a little rift through angelic choirs and through the never-ending diapa- son that began swelling from earth to heaven when the heart of a mother was first wrung with sorrow or elated with the joy o her mission; confident that He would hear her call as the prophets of old had promised He would, and that He would give her ol His compassion. CONTINUED ON PAGE ——

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April, 1920 HOME JOURNAL 125 —when to get up for a brisk start on the busy day you've planned: shopping, houseclean- ing, or pleasure jaunt. A fresh, unruffled start—a little earlier than usual—means everything on a day like this! He tells you when to drop your sewing and start the meal; when to look at those biscuits; when to be off downtown on time Westclox “ig 4enp — he tells you when for that appointment with him! You can leave all these things to Big Ben because he takes time seriously; because he is an honest Westclox alarm, trained to put good timekeeping ahead of every- thing else. All Westclox are that way: the name Westclox, on the dial and tag, is the mark of faithful timekeeping. Western Clock Co.—makers of Westclox La Salle, and Peru, Ill., U. S. A.

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126 p HOME JOURNAL n-e-tra-for o3 RIAIR BRUSH Brushes Every Strand The New Way The Old Way HE stiff, extra-choice bristles are set in thin, straight-up-and-down rows, and permanently fastened through a non-tarnishable aluminum face into a durable, special composition bed.. A few minutes of vigorous brushing with the Pro-phy- lac-tic Pen-e-tra-tor thoroughly massages the scalp, combs every strand, and smooths out the snarls and tangles. Persevered in, such treatment imparts vigor and vitality to the scalp and a soft, silken lustre to the hair. Always sold in the Yellow Box. Send for free book which fully describes the several styles.and finishes of Pro-phy-lac-tic Pen-e-tra-tor hair and military brushes. Florence Manufacturing Company, Florence, Mass. Also makers of the Pro-phy-lac-tic Tooth Brush and Hand Brush Canadian Address: 247 St. Paul Street West, Montreal | April, 19 Danny’s Gold Star (CONTINUED FROM PAGE 124) The great star was lost in the day’s birth. She turned into the cowshed and, with Pa- draic beside her, lay down in some clean straw and slept. V HE birds in the eaves of the cowshed had almost ended their matins heralding the eve of Easter when Martha awakened; the sun was well up over the distant, low-lying hills; the crystal morning air was filled with music. She shook wisps of straw from her white hair and rubbed her face, finding it wet. She had cried in her sleep. The horror of the night before returned to her, but Biddy was restless. A clean pail was ready where she had left it the night before and she milked the cow, taking a good drink of the warm, life-giving fluid and giving a drink to Padraic. Then she took Biddy to pasture and fed and watered the chickens. Her waist and skirt were creased and rumpled, but she feared to enter the cottage and made the best toilet she could in her refuge, reminding herself that it was in a stable that He who had risen from the tomb was born. From the sun she guessed it to be nearing nine o’clock. The mail train must have come and gone. It was the first time she had failed to hear its warning whistle and distance- mellowed clangor since Danny went away. Perhaps the end of her agony had come, the last bitter trial of her soul been suffered. Faster’s miracle was transpiring. All about her she could feel life stirring, life after the death of the winter; tree trunk and bough trembled with it; leaves and buds would fol- low; the birds were courting and singing their loveliest songs of the year. Perhaps, waiting for her at the post office, there would be the letter telling her that her Danny, too, had risen from the dead. Lavinia Allen would give it to her, and she would hurry away to a quiet corner and spell out each word over and over again, or perhaps she had better take it to Mr. Graham, the law- yer, and let him read it first to himself and then to her so that her heart might not stop beating from sheer happiness. Never once did she think of the more than a thousand disappointments of the past. With Padraic at her heels she made a wide detour of the house, hurried through the lane and struck the main road to the village. In the warm sunshine her heart became light and her steps quickened. At times she would run a few paces, Padraic leaping in the air ahead of her and barking joyously. Faint roses came to her wrinkled cheeks, and she forgot entirely that she was out without a bonnet and that the villagers might wonder at her untidiness at such a season of happi- ness and fine raiment. ARTHA gave a quick glance at the Honor Roll. The sun made Danny’s star seem almost as brilliant as the one she had prayed to before the dawn. Across the tracks she saw Mr. Graham get out of his buggy and enter the post office. She hurried on. Padraic, ahead of her, suddenly stopped and threw up his long muzzle, sniffing the air. “Tf Danny’s letter has come this time,’ she told herself, “‘Padraic has got his scent from it.” Graham met her as he was leaving the post office, his hands full of letters and papers. The dog leaped upon him, barking furiously and almost throwing him off his feet. “Mr. Conly died during the night,’”’ he told her, “and all the time he was stricken no one thought of getting his mail for him. Make Padraic get down.” As she seized the brute by the collar, he noticed the absence of her bonnet and a bit of straw clinging to her hair. “What’s the matter, Mother Conroy?” he asked. Holding fast to the dog she looked up at the lawyer and, finding herself unable to frame an excuse for her appearance, an- swered him only with the distress that showed in her eyes. “They turned you out, did they?” he de- manded, his good-natured face flaming with anger. ‘I know they did, and this thing has got to stop. Come up to my office. It’s got to stop, I tell you. I'll have the law turn them out if I can. Come upstairs with me.” “But my—my—my letter,” she stam- mered. Graham turned and called in to Miss Allen: ‘Anything for Mother Con- roy to-day?” “Nothing, Mr. Graham,” called back Miss Allen. “Poor Miss Lavinia!’? he muttered as they made their way up the stairs of the building adjoining. ‘‘She’s too nervous for that job. I get half of Gorman’s mail, and he gets half of Graham’s.” “Mr. Graham!”’ Martha’s voice sounded weakly. They were entering the lawyer’s office. The pallor of her face frightened him. “Take this chair, you’re not well,” he said, making her sit beside the desk on which he dropped his mail. “T was thinking,” she began with trem- bling lips and eyes rapidly filling with tears, “‘that she might have lost my letter.”’ Her voice broke into a sob. ‘‘ But God wouldn’t be that unkind to a poor old mother.” All her courage and optimism were gone and the bitter tears of a bewildered and har- ried old woman flowed freely. Graham sat waiting for her to quiet down, running lightly through the mail of his late client, Farmer Conly, and pushing the frantic Padraic’s paws from his desk. He laid aside a letter for Connolly, put in the Conly box by mistake, and then paused to study the ad- dress on the next. His hand trembled, and he turned and looked upon the bowed white head beside him fora moment. Then he took Padraic by the collar and threw him out into the hall and closed and locked the door. “Martha,” he said softly, “look up. Here is your letter. Shall I read it?” She did not seem to understand. “T found it in Mr. Conly’s mail. Shall I read it for you?” She did not answer, and so he took her hands from her face and put the letter in them. “See, it is from Ireland,” he said. “Is it Danny’s handwriting?” She nodded. “Shall I read it for you?’”’ She nodded again. S HE took the letter and opened it she clasped her knotted fingers in her lap. The sun coming in an east window shone upon her face. It was as placid as a pool ina glen and irradiated the holy beauty one may see on the countenance of a child at the altar rail. Graham read: Dear Mother: I was lost for a long time, but am all right. I must have swum by myself to North Aran Island, for I found myself there among the kelp burners and fishermen. They didn’t know anything about our being torpe- doed, and it took me a long time to remember it after I got over the sickness. My name was lost. It wasn’t until I got to the mainland in County Donegal and began hunting for work that the old names you used to mention so often began to set me on the right track. There was plenty of work in the linen mills because of the war, and the family I lived with never stopped asking me about America, for they could tell from the way I talked where I had come from. As Graham turned the closely written page, Martha found her voice. “‘ The blessed lad! The blessed lad!” she murmured. They said I looked like the O’Donnells of Ballyshannon, and old Seumas O’Donnell, who made a lot of money with his knitting mill doing government work, came to see me. It was from him that I got my right name and address. “My brother Seumas,” she half whis- pered, for she seemed in a dream. He says for you to take the next boat, for he is getting old and hasn’t a soul to leave his pot of gold to. I was for starting back right away or sending a cable, but he said, No, because he would need me to help him run the mill and need you at home. Besides, if you had given me up for dead, the cable would be too sudden. Graham paused and glanced to Martha’s face. It was as if cut in ivory. The sunshine in her hair made it a halo of silver. Her eyes held a rapt expression, as if they were be- holding things not of mortal ken. i send your brother a cable this morn- ing,”’ he said softly. He repeated it, but she gave no sign of having heard him. Then he resumed reading: I know it was your prayers that saved me. I could hear them even during the long sickness on North Aran, and could hear them through the noise of the mill as I worked. I dreamed that you were calling me and that Nora was beating you with a stick. If she has been cruel to you let her have the place, tell her nothing and take the next ship. If Padraic is living, bring him with you. With a heart full of love, dear mother, and thanks to God for His mercy, Your loving son, DANNY. Graham detached a check for a hundred pounds, pinned to the last sheet of the letter, and placed it in her lap. : “God has made you a fine Easter gift, Mother Conroy,” he said. Her hands lifted and reached out to one of his. She pressed it against her cheek and her tears fell upon it. “I knew He’d hear me,” she sobbed. “‘He’s the only friend the old mothers have. It’s His own gold stars in heaven that will guide them to their brave lads.” a

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a YS ey O CO — enw April, 1920 Sunkist lemon, served with meats, game and fish, aids digestion and improves the flavor. These lemons, because of their bright, waxy appearance, aleo make the best-looking garnish. When preserving fruits, like cherries, straw- berries, peaches, pears, in fact all kinds of fruit, add slices of Sunkist lemon before cooking. Lemon brings out the flavor and preserves the color. Thou- sands of housewives do this. Sunkist lemon juice adds an appetizing zest to oysters, raw or cooked. Serve the lemon in quarters, and to avoid wasting juice, puncture the center of the fruit with the oyster fork before squeezing. tala, oa Sunkist lemon juice in place of vinegar in may ha ‘ngs, on spinach, and wherever else you Y Rave been in the habit of using vinegar. admired is the secret of the dainty flavors you have in the dishes of famous chefs. HOME JOURNAL Lemons Serve In Seven Valuable Ways To Aid You in Housekeeping ONSIDER the uses to which this versatile fruit mzy be put in your home each day. We suggest but a few here. There are scores of others that help to make housekeep- ing easier! Think of the bother it would be if you had to do without lemons entirely—the new methods and the new foods that would have to be created. The lemon helps in the kitchen work, it is the best natural garnish, it makes deli- cious foods possible, it pro- motes health and is an effec- tive beautifier. There is not an iota of waste except in the seeds— even the rind serves in several ways. Buy a dozen today and use them as we have suggested here. Let us tell you about other ways in which lemons can assist you. Learn of all that lemons bring to you when you take full advantage of them. S CALIFORNIA unkist Uniformly Good Lemons Practically seedless—juicy——tart. Ask your grocer for these high grade Ca/ifornia lemons. California Fruit Growers Exchange A Non-Profit, Co-operative Organization of 10,000 Growers Section 213, Los Angeles, California The good old-fashioned remedy for colds is still a pretty good one—a glass of Piping hot lemonade, a laxative, and a good warm sleep. Use Sunkist lemons, full-flavored and tart, for they make the best lemonade. If you wish to make economical cuts of meat so tender and appetizing that everyone will like them, boil the meat in water to which you have added a teaspoonful of Sunkist lemon juice. Try One of these Seven Valuable Ways Sunkist Jemons, being beautiful in color and practically seedless, make the most attractive lemon slices to serve with tea. Sunkist lemons slice better than others. Try them, and see.

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Painted by R. K. Ryland for Standard Kid Manufacturing Co. Vode ‘The Leather for Fine Shoes The Leather for Fashion and Ease OMEN leather combined fashion and ease used to think that no in shoes. An ever-increasing number are now learning that Vode Kid is a leather which gives modish comfort to fine footwear. Vode Kid is found in all the more cor- rect shades. It is a leather suitable for all fashionable lasts. It is light in weight and permits the foot to breathe prop- erly. It is so pliable that it fits snugly, making the foot look small and dainty. There are shoes of Vode Kid suitable for every foot for every occasion. The fashionable comfort of Vode Kid is one of the Vode Goodnesses. Knowledge of these Vode Goodnesses will give you finer appreciation of the leather necessary to good shoes. Shoes of Vode Kid may be purchased in Field Mouse, Havana Brown, Gray, Tan, Blue, and Black. Standard Kid Mfg. Co., Boston, Mass. Agencies in All Shoe Manufacturing Centers Ask for Shoes of Vode Kid

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HOM!

JOURNAL

he World’s Best Seller By Fannie Casseday Duncan HERE are ig magazines [4 which pub- lish monthly lists <= of the “best sell- ers” in the book i world. A recent survey of the files ‘ of such magazines showed that in no \ case had a record of \ 7 the really “best sell- , ers’’ of the month been made. A ten-year lot of issues of these magazines further dis- closed the fact that no reg- istry had been kept of the real “‘best seller” of the decade. (Queer, was it not? x The best seller, of any month, any year, any decade, has always been the Bible. It has the distinction of be- ing the first book printed after the invention of movable types. That was in 1455. In less than five hundred years from that date the total issue of Bibles from the Bible Society alone was, in round numbers, two hundred and fifty millions of copies. But before the organization of the Bible Society an English association for distribut- ing the Bible among soldiers and sailors had sold or given away nearly three million full Bibles and more than two’ million New Testaments. These figures do not include private pub- lication houses, which probably distribute three million more over the world. Yet the Coverdale Bible, the first complete English Bible, appeared only three hundred and eighty-five years ago, in 1535. A late esti- mate holds that the Bible, in whole or in part, is now available to seven out of every ten persons in language they can under- stand. The World War probably increased this output enormously. The Old Testament (originally called the Old Covenant) was first written in Hebrew, with the exception of a few passages in Aramaic. The New Testament was originally wholly in Greek. But in the ages, in order to give the Bible the wide circulation called for, it became necessary to make many translations of it. The Earliest Editions of the Book HE first of these calls came about two hundred and eighty-five years before Christ was born, when Ptolemy Philadelphus, at the suggestion of the librarian of the royal library at Alexandria, sent an embassy to the high priest at Jerusalem with a request that he send to Alexandria six elders from each of the twelve tribes of Israel, with a copy of the Hebrew Law, to make a Hellenic translation of it. This, the first translation, was called the Septuagint. The next notable translation was that of Jerome, A. p. 385, who translated the Bible into Latin. Then Wyclif—about 1382— translated it into English; Tyndale’s trans- lation of the New Testament was in 1525, and the Pentateuch in 1530. The King James Version of the Bible was made in 1611. There were many other translations, but these are the important ones. The first Bible translated into the tongue of the native-born American was translated in 1661 by John Eliot, who translated it into the language of the Algonquins. The Bible IS now printed in more than five hundred languages and dialects. Just before the World War, the British and Foreign Bible Society sold copies of the Bible in fifty-three dialects in the Russian Empire; twenty-eight dialects in Burma; more than twenty in South Malaysia; fifty- three in Egypt; and fourteen in Cape Town, Africa. If such statements came, fully proved, concerning any other book, would you not »€ devoured with curiosity to see the book and read it? Let us imagine an educated man who had never even heard of the Bible. But first let us found this unsupposable —" on some supposable basis.

“So David Prevailed Over the Philistine With a Sling and With a Stone” Stephen Girard died in Philadelphia in 1831. In his will he left in trust a fund of $5,260,000 to establish a college for the education of ‘poor, white, male orphans.” He made a provision that “no ecclesiastic, missionary or minister” should ever step foot inside the college; that morals should be taught, but no form of religion, “‘insistence,”’ he said, “being laid upon facts and things rather than upon words and signs.” So it appears that Stephen Girard believed and expected that men should graduate from Girard College to whom the Bible was an unheard-of book. A Man Who Had Never Heard of It OW imagine a man born, reared, and schooled in a place where no mention of the Bible was ever made, although his schooling had been wide along lines of philosophy, art, science, history, music and literature. Suppose after he had finished college some one had met him and chanced to speak of the Bible as the “world’s best seller.” Would not the student have a great desire to learn more about the book? “What does the Bible treat of? History?” would perhaps be his first question. “Yes, it does,” his companion would answer, ‘‘though it was not at all written for its history. However, it is our only in- formant on the history of the world at its sources. The only one that goes into how the world was created, who created it, how light was created on the first day, and on the | fourth day it flashed out from sun, moon, and stars; how, on the second day, air and water were created, and on the fifth day they were stocked with birds and fishes; on the third day dry land appeared, and on the sixth day it was the home of livestock and man.” “That sounds like a romance.” “Well, yes, it is a romance, but it was not written for a romance. However, the Bible does tell of the first love affair, hints at the supreme beauty of the woman, the devotion of the man, the woman’s lure and the man’s weakness. In fact, I can think of no book in literature that has such fascinating ro- mances—love stories, pastoral stories, tales of heroes.” Full of Great Poetry and Drama = HERE is a tale of Abraham sending a confidential messenger with a retinue of servantsand camels and jewels to finda wife for his son. This tale is full of a wonderful Oriental atmosphere. Then there is a descrip- tion of Jacob matching wits with Laban for the hand of Rachel, getting the better of Laban by a psychological trick in the matter of cattle breeding, which we moderns would do well to imitate. There is the story of Joseph, half tragedy, half comedy, with a great lesson at the foundation of it. “The story of Ruth is a lyric idyl; the story of Esther is an epic, with plot and counterplot, full of literary and artistic power. The Song of Solomon is a beautiful bit of Hebrew love poetry. These and hundreds of others are so briefly and deftly told as to seem scarcely more than black-and-white sketches, yet noth- ing in Hawthorne, Poe or Maupassant equals them for short- story writing. It is said that the Story of the Prodigal Son is the greatest short story in existence. It has only three hundred and eighteen words, all graphic. The Story of Creation is told almost wholly in words of two syllables.” “T jmagine it must present fine bits for dramatic presentation. Is it like a drama?” “Tt zs a drama, from its opening chapter in Genesis to its closing verses in the rapt vision of Saint John at Patmos, where he tried to communicate to mortal ken, in symbolic interpretations, conditions in the other world for which neither human words nor imagery was ever invented.” “Masterpiece of All Literature” de HY, that ‘Masterpiece of all litera- ture’ lies folded within the covers of the Bible—the Story of Job. It deals with an unfathomable tragedy—the mystery of human suffering—and is unsurpassed and unsurpassable in its dramatic presentation. “T can hardly believe that you have not heard the Story of the Crucifixion, of the weird darkness, the quaking earth, the rock- ing crosses, the hoarse cry: ‘Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani.’ ‘““Then comes the drama of the Ascen- sion—the waiting disciples, .the sudden ghostly appearance of the Christ, his last tender words, his body floating, floating, floating up and up until the clouds caught him out of their sight forever. “‘Ves, the Bible is highly dramatic, though the purpose of its existence was not to be known as a drama.” “Ts it largely written in poetry “The Bible is full of poetry of the highest order, epic, lyric, pastoral, ballad. From the Psalms the Christians get much of their beautiful ritual and their psalter. The themes of Bible poetry are wonderfully varied. For instance, we have festal songs, tribal songs, votive hymns, prayers of peni- tence, songs of victory, pilgrim hymns, the song of the starry night, the song of the sunlit day, and so on.” “Were these songs set to music and, if so, was it vocal or instrumental?” “Many of them were set to music, both choral and instrumental. King David was one of the great Bible characters. He con- trolled an orchestra which used stringed instruments, wind instruments and instru- ments of percussion. “The wood winds and strings were made of the fir tree. The trumpets were of several kinds, brass and horn. “The walls of Jericho were blown down with a ram’s horn trumpet after several days of stolidly and silently marching round and round them. “This strategy of leveling walls through continuous sound and the synchronized tramp of armed men was part of the science which teaches soldiers to-day to break step in crossing a bridge, lest the bridge give way under the footfalls.” 7” A Choir of More Than 4000 Voices “THAT about the vocal music?” “Tt was magnificent. The choir, as told in the Bible, numbered on great occasions more than four thousand trained voices, constantly maintained in the highest effi- ciency. From the directions left to us in CONTINUED ON PAGE 130

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130 > v 4 CEG ROTE LUT? Se ae Vv Ln tn a HERE is no good reason why the modest home or city apartment cannot be fur- nished with taste and refinement. This is simply a matter of careful selection. Where it is not feasible to completely furnish or refurnish a home with Berkey & Gay pieces, a few will lend tone to the most ordinary interior. Building up home charm in this gradual way is a fascinating task, and it imposes no undue financial burden. It is often better than undertaking to furnish one or more rooms all at once, which precludes the possi- bility of making additions to keep abreast of the family’s own development in material welfare and good taste. Everything made by Berkey & Gay has quality—the $50 bed and the $500 library table. There is the same merit of design, the same standard of workmanship in either. The difference comes in elaborate detail, in the inlay of rare woods, in carving, in hand- painted decorations, and other attributes which are not at all necessary or even appro- priate in the unpretentious home. ee SL a aS The family of modest means can afford Berkey & Gay furniture better than it can afford lower priced furniture that is less service- able, less permanent and lacking in the character which Berkey & Gay furniture possesses. Write us for name of nearest dealer. 202 a os S An interesting brochure concern- ing Berkey &8 Gay furniture, with illustrations, sent upon request. d Ys THIS SHOP MARK is inlaid in every genuine Berkey & Gay production. It is the customer's protection when buying and his pride thereafter BERKEY & GAY FURNITURE COMPANY 440 Monroe Avenue Grand Rapids, Michigan New York Ciry Orrice: 119 West 40th Street I Cd CL we Oe « OLLI. FPF oA COI COLDS LS LL. . «| 4 SSE Vv VS on nS Vv Vv Vv Nee Noe v NOLES v Vv NN LOO OL EO LSS SS (FrTeS Vv v HOME JOURNAL * hh Ph. The World’s i ye a cnc Wit A Belts x BE ete Best Seller (CONTINUED FROM PAGE 129) Scripture we get hints of its proficiency in tone color and harmony. For instance, in the orchestral directions, the term ‘selah’ calls for intensification of instrumentation. ‘Nehiloth’ means flutes, probably calls for flutes only in a certain passage. ‘Neginoth’ means stringed instruments. ‘Mahalath’ possibly meant that the music should be responsive. ‘Shiggaion’ is thought to be a direction for abrupt transition. In chorus work ‘Alamoth,’ which is translated ‘girls,’ is supposed to be a direction for soprano voices to lead, while ‘Muth-labben’ is prob- ably the direction for boys’ voices, similar to our boy choristers. “Yes, the Bible is full of music and poetry. But the value of the Bible to the world is far above its music or its poetry.” “T should like to possess a copy of this wonderful book. It was always my ambition to become a noted man of letters, but I have known that some serious lack has held me back. Do you not think a knowledge of this Bible would aid me along these lines?” It Inspires Artists and Authors “7 THINK you have missed the most im- portant feature in any scheme looking to authorship. You have not been given the background that only an intimacy with the Bible can furnish. “You have been withheld from acquaint- ance with the great things in imaginative art, such as the paintings of Leonardo da Vinci, Rubens, Raphael, Fra Angelico; or from such embodiments of beauty as the fres- coes of Giotto, Andrea del Sarto, and Tin- toretto; or from the noble sculpture of Michelangelo and Luca della Robbia. “These all drew their inspiration from the Bible and, with thousands of others in art and letters, have so enriched the world that I do not believe it possible for one unac- quainted with the Bible to become a great writer. Shakspere alone has some five hundred and fifty quotations, allusions or sentiments from the Bible. Tennyson has four hundred and sixty. Much of Browning was built on it. Canon Farrar asserts that the one hundred best pictures and the one hundred best musical compositions in the world were drawn from Bible sources. He might also have put the one hundred best books in this classification. Max Miiller says: ‘Unless literature holds a language at its best level it will disintegrate and go off into dialect.’ This is one of the high func- tions of the Bible.” Worth of the Bible as a Textbook “TUT to reply more directly to your ques- tion, I am certain that a literary study of the Bible (not as the Word of God, not asa wonderful revelation of man to man, not as the greatest compilation of laws in existence, but simply as a literary study) could not fail to enlarge the boundaries of your education. Richard G. Moulton says: ‘One who has read the Bible from cover to cover has traversed the ages from the beginning of the world to the first century of our era. . Itis nothing less than a philosophy of world history. Within the covers of this volume . . . is the material of a liberal ed- ucation. Even as a phenomenon 9») of literature the Bible is unique. Such might be an imaginary conversation with this imaginary man. Of course he is impossible; for, although Stephen Girard contemplated having such students graduate from his college, when a test suit was brought against the school for introducing the Bible, the plea of the defendants was that the Bible had not been introduced as a book of religion, but as the highest known textbook on personal morality and literary form. The Supreme Court of Pennsylvania con- firmed the act on these grounds. English Wives and American Doughboys (CONTINUED FROM PAGE 47) haddock, and they make good tea. Sel- dom is their breakfast coffee anything ex- cept a tasteless, watery fluid. They fry fish well, but they prefer to boil it with the omnipresent white sauce. I have tried to teach many English friends the secret of good boiled or baked beans, as we know them in America. I have never succeeded in getting them accomplished in “ beanery,”’ be- cause they will not consent to simmer any- thing for hours. In a magazine article twenty years ago I wrote upon the need of boarding houses with American cookery for American visitors to London. I mentioned the need of simmering vegetables and gave a recipe for cooking one which was to be simmered for three hours and a half. When the article appeared I found the time for simmering had been changed to half an hour. On inquiring of the editor how the mistake had happened, since I had corrected the proofs, I was told: ‘“‘When I came to con- sider a whole three hours and a half to be used for cooking a vegetable I decided that it was a slip of your pen or typewriter; so I took the article home, consulted my wife and she assured me that it must be a mis- take, and at her suggestion I changed it to half an hour.” In justice to my English editors I will add that this is not the usual way of running magazines here. I happened to be so far away that it was not possible to consult me in time for the publication of the article, and as most men think their own wives know most things while other men’s wives know nothing, my dear, delightful editor friend flew to the usual refuge! The Average Home Cookery is Meant ET it be understood that in writing of Eng- lish cookery I refer to the average home cookery, and not the occasional dinner party or to the cookery served on the tables of the wealthy aristocrats, many of whom have foreign cooks or English cooks trained by foreigners. I refer to the cookery in the homes of people whose incomes average from a hundred pounds a year to two thousand pounds; people who in ordinary times keep one servant or three or four servants. I am not writing of the East End of London, but the West End; not of the slums of Bir- mingham and Manchester, but of the well- conducted homes. Until the war made it difficult to obtain servants, I cannot remember knowing in London half a dozen families who did not keep at least two maids, and most of my friends are among professional people of very moderate incomes. A servant has been considered a necessity, and the servant or servants did the cooking. When the lady of the house has herself done it, the same tastelessness has usually been the result; but at a course dinner one can generally make out a satisfying meal by picking and choosing. The Banisters Have to Take it Too ANCY an American mother-in-law con- fronting a new daughter from England and eating the peas galloped for fifteen min- utes in the gallon of water with the washing soda, or rather fancy the mother-in-law’s son laying his weary head upon her lap and begging her to come to his nice new home and cook him a dinner in the old way! The mother-in-law may go to the new home; she may attempt to teach that nice English girl American ways of cooking and of housekeeping in general, and the nice English girl will say in her nice, respectful English fashion: ‘But I’ve never done it that way. In England we always put wash- ing soda in the peas.” And that means she always will do it! It means tragedy, probable separation and possible divorce; for the American man likes the things his mother used to cook. No American who has visited in an English house overnight can have failed to notice a strange noise every morning somewhere 1n the direction of the banisters. It is a sound of knocking, jabbing, clicking, a dozen, 4 CONTINUED ON PAGE 132

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rid t is rld ion ion is ard ate cht dle, the - of 0k rm. on- and eep am lon, Bir- vell- tain y in not my yeen t or lady ame sult; rally and te) con- land min- hing aw’s and kome new nice and nice ctful ne it yash- o it! and likes lish otice sre in ound en, a le April, 1920 HOME JOURNAL 131 C { the two recognized types of Vacuum Cleaners on the market Both are found in the Electric Sweeper-Vac One cleans by suction alone. The other cleans by suction and by Motor Driven Brush also. WHY NOT HAVE BOTH TYPES AT THE PRICE OF ONE ELECTRIC SWEEPER-VAC Turn that Lever to the left and you have the type that cleans by suction alone (and as powerful suc- tion as any possesses). Turn that Lever to the right and you have the type that cleans by a combination of that same power- ful suction and the correctly speeded Motor Driven Brush A Word as to the MOTOR DRIVEN BRUSH This means that the electric motor (and not your muscle) keeps the brush revolving. You don’t have to push the Sweeper-Vac before you get the brush action that gathers every vestige of threads, lint and hairs and at the same time vibrates the nap to dislodge the close clinging dirt. Electricity does it for you with the Electric Sweeper-Vac. Write for the most elaborate book ever written on Vacuum Cleaners. peELECTRIC Ask for The Vacuum Cleaner with That Lever WITH -MOTOR-DRIVEN- BRUSH PNEUVAC COMPANY, Department 6, Worcester, Massachusetts

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HOME JOURNAL April, 19; —— Pe & hj | bo ike a iolin, exquisite ~ S| with its first rich tone, and (_/ day by day becoming seasoned The Cheney and mellowed by the throb- Acoustic Throat gathers tones and releases them under berfect and calculated control. bing melodies it helps to create, so with The Cheney—“THE Loncer You Ptiay It, Tue SWEETER It Grows.” Dulcetly appealing with the first record you play upon it, it enhances in sweetness and quality of tone with use. It is the gift of original acoustic principles, evolved and _ per- fected in The Cheney. As a final touch of craftsman- like appreciation, The Cheney is given the form it deserves —cabinets which are faith- fully accurate period studies. “The CHENEY CHENEY TALKING MACHINE COMPANY, Dealers Everywhere CHICAGO English Wives and American Doughboys (CONTINUED FROM PAGE 130) hundred, a thousand times over and over again. This is done by the English brush or broom which is so fashioned that it cannot sweep without making this noise and chip- ping off bits of the stairs or the furniture. Show the average Englishwoman our more convenient broom and whisklike brush and she immediately says: ‘‘We’ve always used this other kind.” The young English wife of the returned American soldier will not know how to sweep with an American broom, and she will take little or no interest in learning how. She is likely to allow her home to go unswept un- less her husband will send over to England to get her an English broom—and how can he do that? An occasional one of these English wives of American Doughboys may, for love of her husband, fall in with American cookery and housekeeping ways, but the majority of them will, I feel sure, expect their husbands and their husbands’ country to adapt themselves to English wives and English ways. Several times an American friend, living in London, and I, who have lived in Eng- land for many years, have come across servants who have stated in their advertise- ments that they have lived in the United States. We have rushed to engage them, thinking that at last we should find girls capable of cooking and working in the American fashion. We have invariably discovered that such girls clung to their old-fashioned ways, and that they returned from the United States because they were unwilling or unable to adapt themselves to the cus toms of that country. Advice to Those Who Have Done It HERE are those who, in order to bring about a better understanding between our two countries, are strongly advocating Anglo-American marriages, are even encour- aging English girls to put themselves in the way of meeting nice American men in order that every opportunity may be had for making such matches. I, who am convinced that I know both countries and their peoples about as thoroughly as they can be known, would never encourage such marriages with- out making a point of dwelling upon the differences instead of the likeness in the ways and customs. It is true that both American and English people love Shakspere, but mutual admira- tion for that great man cannot make an American husband like his English wife’s cookery, nor will it make the English wife ad- mire her American husband’s little “‘ wooden house” in which he takes her to live, be it ever so beautiful and convenient; it will not induce her to accustom herself to steam heat instead of open-grate fires, nor will it convince her that it is “proper” to have her clothes hanging on a pulley line outside the windows of the charming New York or Phila- delphia flat. As [have already said, I fear that tragedies are in store for the rosy-cheeked war brides taken over from England to America, and for the men who have taken them. If any such happen to read this article, let me say to them: Love is Not Enough WRITE as one understanding you both and loving both your countries, loving one somewhat better than the other, of course, because one of your countries is mine. To my countryman, the Doughboy, I would say: Be patient and be tender. Be- fore your wife can become your true com- panion and helpmate, years of patience and tenderness may be necessary. To my English cousin, wife of my country- man, the Doughboy, I would say: Cease to be English in the little things that have to do with home making just as quickly as you possibly can. You must adapt yourself to the country of your future home, not ex- pect that country to adapt itself to you. Learn American cookery, American methods of housekeeping, American easier ways of doing things, at the earliest possible minute. Get your mother-in-law, sister-in-law or some other American woman to teach you. Shun as you would shun the Evil One himself that tendency of yours to say: ‘‘We’ve always done it that way” or “We’ve never donc it.” Those are not the watchwords of the country of your husband, which must now be your country too. If you argue with me that you love him and he loves you and ask if love is not enough, I answer that it is certainly not enough and never was enough for a happy married life. Bring a dish of English-cooked peas or cabbage through the sliding door of your American kitchen several times and watch your husband’s love gradually flying out of that pretty dining-room window. Remember he is an American and you must also become an American in what are known as the “little things.” You may re- main as English as you please in the big ones. Life is really made up of “little things.” The Moreton Mystery Page 26 VERITT PARKER, a New York attorney, is called back from his vacation to make the will of Matthew Moreton, a wealthy client. From the millionaire’s office they goto hiscountry house for the week-end, and there Parker meets Nixola Allen, a one-time child acrobat whom Moreton adopted several years before. He recognizes “Nixie ”’ as the girl whose sobbing, from an adjoining room in the New York hotel at which he stayed the night before, had wakened him. The week-end party includes, besides Mrs. Moreton’s physician, Doctor Levene and several distinctly German types for whom Moreton clearly shows his detestation, to the irritation of his wife, whose guests they are. At theclose of dinner Moreton abruptly proposes a toast to the Allied nations, bitterly assails wartime pacifists and spies and goes abruptly to his room. Toward midnight he is found dead, presumably from hydrocyanic poisoning. A phial is on his desk. Nixie and the chauffeur, Holt, are in closer relations than they wish known. Jowett, a detective, arriving that eve- ning in response to an earlier request from Moreton, saw the two leave the garage just before the poisoning and enter Moreton’s study by a seldom-used Synopses of Serials Now Running basement passageway. Jowett tells this to Parker and says flatly it is a murder case. The remaining principal character in the story is a dissolute nephew, Dris- coll Moreton, who quarrels with his uncle over money matters. After More- ton’s death it is found that the nephew’s hands are scratched and one wrist is badly sprained. Parker spends the night in the library; Jowett goes on a tour of the house. They Who Walk in Darkness Page 19 ONSTANCE DAVISON, brought up by her rural relatives, John and Susan Newcomb, has never in her twenty-two years experienced a touch of romance, nor of understanding those who have. Secretary to a New York broker, she lives by herself without companionship and without wishing for any. Stephen Bond, a former army avi- ator, now in the same large brokerage house, offers her repeated attentions, which irritate her and cause her to treat him almost rudely. He promptly re- sponds by assuring her that she will some day marry him, and she begins re- ceiving anonymous parcels of flowers at frequent intervals. After several weeks of this she sends Bond a curt, formal note ordering him to stop it.

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20 April, 1920 HOME JOURNAL 133

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——— — 0 oO ul oO X= i VW omen Sa ; Is . of ec. 6é sg re 0 Lent CMmMan WOU @ £ul ty OJ SUCH TEMATRS in at 33 ys about women ne © he yw * m M. en S. ay * ot - ot 6é e e « Py njortunate YY if 1s true En Willi Mare SUC ed 7 of Jn > ° 33 > ~ i remarks as ton? as women ive them cause ng - ou ire ) { re- Y, MUST ADMIT that I felt chagrined and in- — control. Sudden excitement, embarrassment even, It really correés the cause of both the moisture and > es. sulted when Marie———, the cloak-room girl in serves as a nervous stimulus sufficient to make per-

daintiness that women are demanding—that con- sciousness of perfect grooming so satisfying to men. Address mail orders or request as follows: For Can- An old fault—common to most of us ada to The Arthur Sales Co., 61 Adelaide St., East,. yl It is a physiological fact that there are very few Foronto, Ont. For France 4 The Agencie Améri- > . . \ caine, 38 Avenue de |’Opéra, Paris. For Switzerland > Vv, persons who are not subject to this odor, though yet. : sali : : ee ee. to The Agencie Américaine, 17 Boulevard Helve- seldom conscious of it themselves. Perspiration under . oa Dregs : : tique, Genéve. For England to The American Drug the arms, though more active than elsewhere, does : . : : , , Supply Co., 6 Northumberland Ave., London, W. C. 2. not always produce excessive and noticeable moisture. : eed . ‘ 2 ; For Mexico to H. E. Gerber & Cia., 2a Gante, 19, But the chemicals of the body do cause noticeable Mexico City. ForU.S.A.t ! . exico City. F . S. A. to odor, more apparent under the arms than in any exico City. For osher place. The Odorono Company The underarms are under very sensitive nervous 724 Blair Avenue, Cincinnati, Ohio - = Z08 ZO5 205 =o = [==

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a big hotel, told me what she had overheard men say about women. So I know exactly how those women feel who have written, telephoned and talked to me since I published her story. The statement of Marie’s which they object to most was this: “But there’s one woman who gets it harder than any of the others when men get to talking about her. She’s the woman who is quite sure of herself —of having done every possible thing to make her beauty and attractiveness complete, but has over- looked a thing men can’t overlook. She’s failed to make sure of that perfect daintiness which is impos- sible when there’s the least trace of the odor or mois- ture of perspiration.” The idea that any man, of the kind whose opinion counts, would talk to other men about a matter so personal as this seems simply horrid. But the men I have heard from defend themselves by saying there is nothing to be gained by silence. “Make women realize the facts about perspiration,” they say, “and we know they will correct the cause of such remarks.”

spiration there even more active. The curve of the arm prevents the rapid evaporation of odor or mois- ture—and the result is that others become aware of this subtle odor at times when we least suspect it. How well-groomed men and women are meeting the situation Well-groomed men and women everywhere are meet- ing this trying situation with methods that are simple and direct. They have learned that it cannot be neglected any more than any other essential of per- sonal cleanliness. They give it the regular attention that they give to their hair, teeth, or hands. They use Odorono, a toilet lotion specially prepared to correct both perspiration moisture and odor. Odorono was formulated by a physician who knew that perspiration, because of its peculiar qualities, is beyond the reach of ordinary methods of cleanliness excessive moisture of the armpits is due to a local weakness. Odorono is an antiseptic, perfectly harmless. Its regular use gives that absolute assurance of perfect

odor of perspiration. Make it a regular habit! Use Odorono regularly, just two or three times a week. At night before retiring, pat it on the underarms. Allow it to dry, and then dust on a little talcum. The next morning, bathe the parts with clear water. The underarms will remain sweet and dry and odorless in any weather, in any circumstances! Daily baths do not lessen its effect. Women who find that their gowns are spoiled by perspiration stain and an odor which dry cleaning will not remove will find in Odorono complete relief from this distressing and often expensive annoyance. If you are troubled in any unusual way or have had any difficulty in finding relief, let us help you solve your problem. Write today for our free booklet. You'll find some very interesting information in it about all perspiration troubles! Address Ruth Miller, The Odorono Co., 724 Blair Avenue, Cincinnati, Ohio. At all toilet counters in the United States and Canada, 60c and $1.00. Trial size, 30c. By mail, postpaid, if your dealer hasn't it. Men will be interested in reading our booklet, “The Assurance of Perfeét Grooming.”

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HOME JOURNAL April, 1920 Look for this trade-mark inthe shoes you buy SOME DAY I'M GOING TO WEAR SHOES LIKE MOTHER’S—MADE OF ‘E B&C-KID I was with her when she bought them. We came from the dress- makers, and Mother had some samples with her. She showed them to the salesman and said: ‘‘I want shoes to go with these,’’andhetookthemand brought back shoes that blended perfectly. He told her that they were made of ‘‘F. B & C.”’ KIDSKIN and that the smartest ladies were wearing them. Then he showed her the trade-mark inside and said that proved they were the genuine. When we were leaving, the man said ‘‘F. B & C.’’ White Wash- able Kid was going to be the thing for Spring and Summer. * * * “EK B&C.”,shown ina rangeoflovely blending shades, is the KIDSKIN of which the finest shoes are made. ‘SHOE TIPS”, illustrated in colors, will show you the latest styles in footwear. WRITE FOR IT. FASHION PUBLICITY COMPANY In Conjunction with AMALGAMATED __ “smo L'E A T H E R_ Look for this trade>- COMPANIES, Inc. “his trade- mark in mark in your cole DEPARTMENT L yy go y + ored shoes NEW YORK CITY _ whiteshoes “FF. B& C.” SHOE DRESSING MEANS A LONGER LIFE AND A BRIGHTER FINISH COPYRIGHT 1920 A.L. Cc. Inc.

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Field Workers for Evening Service Going to Supper S GREATER agricultural activity assured? This is a question that is still facing the world. Large reclamation projects are under way; eventually millions of acres of shell-torn soil, of swamp land and of cut-over forest areas will be converted into fertile fields. But what about the immediate need? Men, women and children have responded to the appeal of the Government for increased food produc- tion to help feed the world. But has there been any concerted, coéperative movement to stimulate and sustain the work of tilling every bit of available soil and making it produce on an intensive scale? Or do we feel that we have done our bit, that there is no longer a crying need for the home garden and the cultivation of the vacant lot, that land service com- mittees should disband and that such organizations as the Woman’s Land Army and the Boys’ Working Reserve should cease to exist? If their work as war- emergency organizations is over, is it not possible, perhaps, that school gardening may be made the basis of a national system of volunteer. agriculture and horticulture? How the Woman’s Land Army Originated ROM the viewpoint of a special committee, ap- pointed by the National Education-Association to consider ‘‘separate movements for the youth of the nation for greater agricultural activities’’ and ‘‘the failure to coérdinate these several movements,” real progress has been hindered rather than helped by over- lapping effort. The conclusions of this special commis- sion took form in resolutions addressed to the Secretary of the Interior, the Secretary of Agriculture and the Secretary of Labor, in which the commission respect- fully represented to those officials that the confusion existing cannot well be settled in the field by various agents answerable each to a separate authority, that it can be removed only by some agreement among the departments responsible for starting the different plans, and the commission therefore asks those cabinet officers to ‘“‘take such action as the circumstances may warrant.” This appeal should ultimately lead to the consolida- tion of the various conflicting departmental agencies into a harmonious whole, but meantime there should also be developed a federation of civilian organizations dealing with agricultural pursuits. Until such a fed- eration is formed, let us by all means encourage the activities of every organization and individual inter- ested in increasing food production. The achievements of the farmerettes under the sponsorship of the Woman’s Land Army of America during two years of war and one of peace are certainly something to point out with pride and satisfaction. HOME JOURNAL Improving Idle Time and Idle Acres: By Bertha Taylor Voorhorst

Chairman Bertha Taylor Voorhorst—the Author— Practicing What She Preaches This organization was formed at a meeting called by the Woman’s National Farm and Garden Association’ and participated in by representatives of the Federal Food Administration, the Woman’s Division of the State Defense Council, the New York State College of Agriculture, the New York State Employment Bureau and Farm Bureau, the New York State Grange, the Garden Club of America, the National Board of the Y. W. C. A., the Mayor’s Committee of Women on National Defense and the Woman’s University Club. Its unprecedented growth, resulting in the organiza- tion of over thirty state divisions and the placing of from fifteen to twenty thousand farmerettes on the land, speaks for itself. The majority of these women had no previous farm experience. Women in Every Branch of Farm Work | foster ee and fruit growers were thus supplied with practically every kind of farm labor. The women did plowing, planting, cultivating and harrowing. They cut, stacked and loaded hay, corn, rye and wheat and performed every phase of silo work. They worked on big Western farms and orchards, on commercial farms, dairy farms, truck farms, private estates and in home

Picnic Meals Tasted Better Than Any in Boarding Houses PHOTOGRAPHS ON THIS PAGE © BY HARRIS & EWING _ viously been done, but instructions were given in the

Farmerettes Preparing the Seed Beds for Planting gardens. They did poultry work, dairy work, bee- keeping and teaming. They learned to handle tractors, harvesters and other farm machinery. In slack seasons they scythed brush, sawed and stacked wood and even repaired the roads, thus enabling the truck farmers to get their produce to market. And in the autumn they gathered nuts to swell the supply of shells for use in making gas masks. With the signing of the armistice came a move toward demobilization, but officials of the Depart- ment of Labor intervened. Federal affiliation was effected, and no subsequent activities were undertaken without first conferring with representatives of that department. America had pledged for 1919 almost double the amount of food supplies for foreign lands that had been sent the year before, and increase in the labor supply was deemed imperative. Outdoor Evening Farming a Reality S SECRETARY of the District of Columbia Divi- sion of the Woman’s Land Army, I met the local situation by proposing to operate a self-supporting training field where Government workers could be offered an opportunity for healthful outdoor evening service, thus keeping the veteran farmerettes in trim and initiating new recruits into the mysteries of the proper handling of the hoe and other garden tools. A small advance fund was provided by the executive committee to purchase seeds and tools and to pay for the plowing and harrowing of the field. But the chair- man of our organization just then found it necessary to resign and I was made chairman and authorized to proceed to carry out my plan. The committee then voted me full power and practically disbanded. Considerable time was consumed in procuring a suitable piece of ground, but finally a ten-acre tract, untilled for thirty years or more and without buildings and improvements, was secured on a rental basis of about one hundred and fifty dollars for the season, and sufficient lumber to erect a shelter was donated, although it was in the form of duck boards and tent bases, which required demobilizing and denailing before the process of reconstruction could begin! On the opening day, April 30, 1919, the first group of recruits reported for duty. The plowing had pre- handling of a team and in the manipulation of a har- row, followed by supervision in the preparation of seed beds and planting. Then came two weeks of constant rain, which prevented further preparation of the soil and successive plantings of seeds and even the com- pletion of the tool house and dressing shelter for which CONTINUED ON PAGE 136

Evening Farmerettes and a Sample Yield From Ten Acres

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For the Price Of 3 Chops—Or 7 Eggs You Get a 35-Dish Package of Quaker Oats The large package of Quaker Oats serves some thirty-five average dishes. That means delicious breakfasts for one per- son for a month. The package costs 35 cents. That’s about the cost of three lamb chops or of seven eggs at this writing. Think of that. Three little chops will buy you thirty-five servings of the greatest food that grows. It Buys You 6221 Calories That large package of Quaker Oats yields 6221 calories —the energy measure of food value. It takes seven pounds of round steak to yield that many calories. And here is what those calories cost at this writing in some neces- sary foods: Cost of 6221 Calories In Quaker Oats . ..... 35¢e In Average Meats ... . . $2.80 In Average Fish . . . . . . $3.10 ym Weems’ eee lw wl wl lt Ce 8485 Ce | ee (| Many common breakfasts cost ten times Quaker Oats for the same calory value. Yet the oat is the food of foods. It is almost a complete food. yields 1810 calories of energy per pound. Quaker Oats forms the ideal breakfast. And what it saves will help you pay for costlier foods at dinner. Many who omit this dish are ' being underfed. Costs 8 Times Quaker Oats for each 1000 Calories Costs 9 Times Quaker Oats per 1000 Calories Costs 12 Times Quaker Oats per 1000 Calories Costs 10 Times Quaker Oats per 1000 Calories to serve Canned Peas Quaker Oats The Extra- Flavory Flakes Make this great dish delicious. { We get but ten pounds from a Quaker Oats is flaked from queen bushel. You get the cream of grains only—just the rich, plump, oats in this brand without an flavory oats. extra price. 15c and 35c per Package Except in the Far West and South Packed in Sealed Round Packages with Removable Cover 3272 Improving Idle Time and Idle Acres (CONTINUED FROM PAGE 135) the foundation was laid on the opening day. The seeds and tools and bags of fertilizer, however, were protected from the downpour by a hastily constructed ‘roof’ of loose boards which were covered with heavy tent cloth. Government Workers Took Hold IF TY or more war workers from the vari- ous government departments enlisted for evening service. The enlistment blank was especially adapted to provide for all contin- gencies and, when signed, constituted a con- tract on the part of the recruits to report for regular duty, the consideration being a pos- sible remuneration out of the proceeds of the crop for time employed in the field, provided there was a surplus fund after all obligations were met in full. Otherwise the training and recreational and social advantages were to be considered as full payment for all services rendered. As the weather cleared the garden was planted. Various time-saving and antiback- breaking devices were invented and adapted, such as dropping seeds through long mailing tubes toavoid constant stooping. ‘This proved more satisfactory both for corn and beans than the regulation hand corn planter. And when it came to picking the bushels and bushels of beans, special bean boats were designed and constructed of sheet iron. They had wooden suburban car line, carrying a basket on each arm containing, all told, a bushel of beans or from six to eight dozen ears of sweet corn. Forty-five minutes of strap hanging ended in a walk of three blocks to the Y. W. C. A., or a transfer to another crowded car to make delivery at the Red Cross cafeteria. Then came a rush back to get to my office at nine o’clock. At half past four came another rush to catch the first car back to the field to pre- pare supper on a one-burner oil stove for the group of field workers, numbering from five to ten each evening. Hard Work, But Worth While O* SPECIAL occasions, at least twice a month, when a lecture was scheduled, I served the entire group of more than fifty. It was only on these special occasions that a K. P. was detailed to assist with the supper preparations. Under no circumstances was a recruit called upon to help with the dishes, as work in the field was too ever-pressing. Hence it was a very tired body that nodded over the dishpan in the late twilight hours, after getting the work in the field well under way and all hands busy with the hoes. “Was it worth while, did it serve its purpose and was the venture actually self- supporting?” Ask the girls busily at work in the fields whether it was worth while and whether they benefited by ends andeach was provided with a cross seat with padded cush- lon and served at once as a con- tainer for beans and an easy mode of locomotion, the bean picker sitting astride the bean boat their work in the open; ask the physi- cians, from whom some of these same girls were formerly tak- ing treatment for nervous exhaustion, howmuchthe health of their patients has been im- proved; ask and propel- ling it be- tween the rows by means of hitching the body forward and simultaneously employing the feet as paddles. These bean boats were used also as carrying baskets. Later, as the several acres of Lima beans came on and larger con- tainers became necessary, foot tubs were purchased and equipped with padded seats. How the Big Crop Was Marketed HE marketing of the crop proved to be rather a perplexing problem. Many of the farmerettes who served in the training field did light housekeeping and carried home produce for their own use; neighbors flocked to the field to gather fresh supplies for their home tables and a number of regular patrons drove out in autos, but soon there was need of a wider outlet. So the patronage of the Y. W.C. A. and the Red Cross cafeterias was solicited and secured. Still there was a suf- ficient surplus to make it feasible for a down- town market to send out an auto truck once or twice a week for green beans, summer squash and sweet corn. With no delivery facilities and no funds available with which to buy a much-needed horse and wagon, it was up to the chairman to see that deliveries were made, and in emergencies to make them personally by basket loads. To do this I was obliged to arise at six o’clock in the morning from my canvas army cot in a small tent wing to the shelter shack—otherwise designated as the “garden house” or “‘beanery”—prepare a hasty breakfast, meantime donning down- town garments, and then trudge nearly half a mile through field aid woodland to the A Frame Shelter Was Started on the Opening Day the United States De- partment of Agriculture if the farmerette movement helped to foster a feminine ‘‘back to the land”? movement; ask the local real-estate men how many local women are looking for small garden tracts; ask our patrons who purchased our produce at the field and thus eliminated the middleman’s profit and all deterioration incident to market handling; ask the local truck gardeners to whom we furnished help in*emergencies to save their crops; and ask the heads of the offices under whose supervision these evening farmerettes executed their daily routine duties how much better they weathered the summer heat. What the Girls Think About It \ ISHING to determine whether it was feasible to carry on the evening field work another year, a questionnaire was sent out tothe girlsat theclose of theseason. Afew quotations from the many responses received will serve to show that there is a real desire on the part of the farmerettes themselves that the movement be fostered and that they will welcome opportunities for work in field and garden, not necessarily as a voca- tion, but as an avocation. One of the new recruits writes: I would be very sorry to have the good work discontinued. I feel that I have been well re- paid for my time and effort in the healthful recreation it has afforded me. After a hard day’s work in a government office it was a delightful change and rest to tired nerves to become inter ested in the growth and development of vege- tables. CONTINUED ON PAGE 139 PHOTOGRAPHS © HARRIS & EWING By Their Equipment Ye Shall Know Them for Farmerettes

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ay April, 1920 | Taste it And see what we mean when we say that Snowdrift is sweet and fresh. Do you hesitate to taste cooking fat? Perhaps you have been using cooking fat that you would hate to eat raw. Then taste Snowdrift and find out how good to eat shortening can be. Snowdrift is made entirely of vege- table oil as choice as any salad oil you ever ate. It has no flavor, because no good cook wants food to taste of the fat. she used. Snowdrift is rich— much richer than butter — but so delicate and fresh that it does not alter the flavor of the food you cook with it. Cream it Snowdrift does not get too hard nor too soft, no matter what the weather. It is always just the right creamy consistency that is easiest to use. Smell it Snowdrift is sweet as you use the word to describe a new-laid egg. After you open the can, Snowdrift stays sweet a long time because it was really fresh when you opened the can—as fresh as the day it was made. Look at it Snowdrift is made of only the finest vegetable oil, which is always light in color, and then refined to a purity which makes Snowdrift white. as you use the word to describe sweet cream. Snow- | HOME JOURNAL 137 SNOW DRIFT PURE VEGETABLE COOKING FAT Foy all cooking Oa . shores vegetable IN ] 2, 4, AND 8 POUND AIRTIGHT TINS. NEVER IN BULK To be sure that Snowdrift is fresh when you open the can in your own kitchen, we pack it only in cans as truly airtight as you your- self would use to put up fruits or vegetables. SouTHERN Cotton O1L Trapina Company New York Savannah New Orleans Chicago

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See oe ee 138 HOME JOURNAL Swans Down Chocolate Cake Cream '/2 cupful of butter, add gradually | cupful sugar, cream mixture thoroughly. Sift, then measure 2 cupfuls Swans Down Cake Flour, add 3 level teaspoonfuls baking wder, sift 3 times, then add alternately with 24 cupful of milk to the first mixture. avor with '/) teaspoonful flavoring extract. Fold in the stiffly beaten whites of 3 eggs, and bake in henplaner cake pan in a moderate oven. Put layers together and cover with Chocolate Frosting. April, 1920 Swans Down Maple Syrup Cake Cream '/2 cupful butter or substitute, gradually add 39/4 cupful of sugar, creaming meanwhile. Add 2 eggs, well beaten, then 3/4 cupful of maple syrup. To the above mixture add '/2 cupful of milk and 2!/, cupfuls of sifted Swans Down Cake Flour to which 2'/2 teaspoonfuls baking powder, 24 teaspoonful soda and '/2 teaspoonful ginger have been added. Bake in a tube loaf-pan about fifty minutes. Cover with Maple Frosting. a Maple Frosting Follow recipe for Boiled Icing given below, except use | cupful maple sugar and 1 tablespoonful red label Karo in place of the granulated sugar. Swans Down Lady Baltimore Cake Follow the recipe for Chocolate Cake as given above. Bake in 2 layers and put together with Lady Baltimore Filling, and cover the whole cake with boiled icing. Lady Baltimore Filling Chop fine '/, cupful each of raisins and nuts. Cut 3 figs in shreds and mix through the boiled icing. Boiled Icing Dissolve 3/, cupful of granulated sugar in '4 cupful of boiling water. Cover and let boil 3 minutes. Uncover and let boil until, when tested in cold water, a little of the syrup may be gathered in a soft ball. Pour the syrup in a fine stream on the white of Swans Down Regulation Sponge Cake Beat the yolks of 5 eggs until thick and light colored. Gradually beat in | cupful sugar and grated rind of '/, lemon, then the lemon juice. Beat the whites of eggs until very light. Cut and fold part of the whites in the first mixture, then cut and fold in | cupful of sifted Swans Down Cake Flour to which '/, teaspoonful of salt has been added, then cut and fold in the rest of the egg-whites. Bake in an ungreased tube pan about fifty minutes in a slow oven. Sponge Cake, Using Egg-Yolks Only Beat 6 egg-yolks until light, using a Dover egg beater. Add | cup of sugar gradually, then '/2 cupful of boiling water and | teaspoonful of lemon extract, beating meanwhile. n Add 11/2 cupfuls of iivell aene Down Cake Flour, to which have been added 2 teaspoon- fuls of baking powder. Beat thoroughly. Bake in an ungreased pan about fifty minutes in a slow oven. (It is best to bake this cake in a flat pan, as it is difficult to bake in a round pan, as illustrated, without watching the oven very carefully. Have oven hot at first, cooling it off later, using a paper on top to keer the cake from burning.) egg beaten very light, beating constantly meanwhile. Beat continually until cold. If cooked or beaten too hard, beat in lemon juice or water a few drops at a time. If not cooked enough (too thin), set the bowl al tension over the fire in a pan of boiling water, and beat constantly until the icing thickens perceptibly. Better Home-Made Cake When you make cake—you want it to be a success. But it can’t be, unless you use the right flour foundation. A fine recipe, a perfect oven, and baking skill won’t alone make the best cake. It takes a special cake flour, too! Housewives worry over disappointment and waste of cake failures. Yet Swans Down Cake Flour insures against such loss, and costs in itself but a 6) few cents for each cake. -& a ave ‘ Sin, SWANS DOWN he Prepated (Not Self-Rising) CAKE FLOUR Preferred by Housewives for 25 years Wax-Paper Wrapped Swans Down is a special cake flour, prepared for making every sort of delicious cake and pastry. For over twenty-five years it has represented an earnest endeavor to improve home baking and its PREPARED (Ake F] l universal acceptance stamps its worth. Try it with any , : ere Ol . oN good recipe! Yor’ S « Fs | The old, reliable product, endorsed by domestic science (>) Me! experts everywhere—your best grocer sells Swans Down. IGLEHEART BROTHERS Established 1856 Dept. H, Evansville, Indiana Also Manufacturers of Swans Down Wheat Bran — Nature’s Laxative Food Send for ‘‘Cake Secrets” “*Cake Secrets” ready! A new text- booklet on successful cake, pie and pastry making—prepared by Janet McKenzie Hill for Swans Down. Full of new ideas, better recipes, elaborate illustrations. Send us10 cents for your ‘Cake Secrets.”

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April, 1920 HOME JOURNAL Many of us before coming to Washington lived in the country during some part of our lives and are glad to have an opportunity to spend an evening there occasionally. The gar- den affords this opportunity. The meals served to us in picnic style tasted better than any we were getting in boarding houses, the lectures were very instructive and the pleasure of work- ing with others well worth the effort we made. Another recruit wrote: There is not a farmerette who has worked on the training field who has not enjoyed the pleas- ant association, the camp suppers, the fresh, open air of the country, the invigorating exer- cise of preparing the soil, and then experienced the joy of watching things grow, knowing that they were doing their bit to reduce the H. C. L. as well as to lessen, if not entirely eliminate, those dreaded visits to the doctor’s office or the hospital. From a financial standpoint the farmer- ettes’ training field is not yet on a self- supporting basis. This could hardly be expected from the first year of operation; but with the present equipment as a nucleus, it is anticipated that it will carry itself in fu- ture—for it is to have a future, despite the fact that the District of Columbia Division of the Woman’s Land Army has disbanded. Other existing organizations are helping to “carry on” the farmerette movement. In- corporated in the last communication sent out from tHe national headquarters was an appeal that those who have been connected with the Woman’s Land Army turn for guid- ance to the colleges of agriculture or such channels within their states as appeal to them. Getting Together HIS brings us back to the question: How best can these diversified interests be correlated? The Woman’s National Farm and Garden Association, with headquarters in New York City, is perhaps the logical fountainhead. In the last year it has awarded to women in- terested in agriculture about thirty-five or forty scholarships in agricultural schools. There are a number of state branches, and each state is called upon to assist in raising scholarship funds. The National League for Women’s Service is fostering agricultural work at a number of its summer camps, thus providing fresh vegetables for camp consumption. Oppor- tunities are also offered for gardening and berry picking at the summer camps operated Improving Idle Time and Idle Acres (CONTINUED FROM PAGE 136) by the National Board of the Y. W. C. A., the Camp Fire Girls of America and the Girl Scouts. Each Girl Scout, in order to earn the spe- cial agricultural badge, is required to par- ticipate in the home and school garden work of her community; to plan, make and care for either a back-yard garden or a window garden for one season; to give a plan of her work, the flowers or vegetables planted, the size and cost of her plot and the profit gained from it. She must also supervise or directly care for the home lawns and flower beds, attend to the watering, the mowing of the grass, keeping yards free from waste paper and rubbish and to the clipping of shrubbery and hedges. Opportunities All Around Us OME of the summer hotels offer oppor- tunities for groups of farmerettes to camp near by and raise vegetables with which to supply their tables; a few of the sanitariums find it helpful to their convalescent patients to have their grounds and gardens cared for by uniformed farmerettes; many of the large greenhouses, both private and commer- cial, offer permanent positions for women versed in floriculture; and to a small degree the farmerettes have served as reconstruc- tion aids in Government hospitals, combining greenhouse work with the care of patients. It is unfortunate, but true, that in many instances the farmer or the orchardist has sought to secure the services of women at a much lower figure than he would be obliged to pay for a boy ora man. One plea during the last season for women workers in a truck garden was supported by the statement that the women did twice as much work as the colored laborers, the only other help avail- able. Let us not, however, lose sight of the fact that, while the greater agricultural projects are being developed, we must not ignore that desire on the part of the farmerette to keep alive the “satisfaction in casting off one’s skirts for trousers and getting down close to the soil with the freedom of a man.” Let us, in our own city, our town, our village or our rural district, see to it that a move- ment is started for the improvement of idle time and idle acres, where indoor workers, both men and women, may gather together in the evening hours “ with a definite object, a sure welcome, and find healthful, pleasant outdoor exercise.” supplement it by working for so many hours or under such conditions that her health and strength would probably give way or that she would have to neglect her children. The law requires that a representative of the board shall visit the home of every widow receiving an allowance at least once in three months and, of course, she may—our inves- tigator often does—visit more frequently where special conditions exist. It is only through these reinvestigations that the relative conditions of the homes before and after the allowance has been granted can be noted and the board, and through it the city, can be assured that the money is not only being granted but expended according to the law. Upon the re- port received from the investigator the al- lowance is continued as before, if conditions prove to be the same as when the allowance was originally granted. It may be decreased if new resources develop, or increased should conditions warrant. Establishing Friendly Relations ‘TH RoucH these repeated visits a friendly Telation is established with the widow which assures complete coéperation in all Matters relating to the allowance. These Visits are not made in the spirit.of detection, although the condition of the home is always noted, but rather that the widow may feel that the resources of the Board of Child Wel- fare are constantly at her disposal. That this friendly relationship is quickly established be- tween the widows and the board is shown by the letters received every day, requesting ae Everyman’s Child (CONTINUED FROM PAGE 35) advice or help from the office in some matter pertaining to the welfare of the children. As to the results among the families at the close of the six months’ grant, there has been a steady improvement in the homes; the money invested is returning interest through lives made stronger by decided physical improvement in the health of both mothers and children; the assured, definite monthly income has removed from the mother’s life that crushing anxiety as to how she was to provide for her children on the morrow, an anxiety that not only dead- ens hope and aspiration in her, but gradually lays its paralyzing hand on the lives of the children, sapping and undermining their vigor, energy and hope. Mothers Respond Splendidly LSO there is evidence among the mothers that they are receiving and utilizing this assistance in the spirit and for the purpose for which it is given: namely, that they will best return it to the community in later years in terms of useful and capable man- hood and womanhood on the part of their children, for whose careful upbringing it is now granted. To treat all alike and fairly, to give a courteous, kindly and sympathetic hearing to all who come to the offices of the board, to administer conscientiously the trust im- posed by appointment to the Board of Child Welfare—to such purposes has the board bent its efforts. CONTINUED ON PAGE 140 ~ Where the A-B-C Shows Its Supremacy HERE can be only one A-B-C Super Electric Washing Machine. All others are different. Only in this machine can you get the efficiency of washing principle, the simplicity and ease of operation, the safety and the trim appear- ance—the combination of superiorities that make the A-B-C the most popular washer in the largest cities of the country. A-B-C Washing Machines are built by an or- ganization of long experience. In every machine is embodied a knowledge of washer construction that makes it capable of rendering exceptional service. You are sure of getting the greatest possible value when you buy an Super Flectric America’s Leading Washing Machine . The big feature of the A-B-C is the exclusive, pat- ented method of reversing the cylinder at every revolu- tion. This combines all the advantages of both cylinder and oscillating types, giving the greatest agitation, and forcing suds through the clothes faster; it brings the clothes out clean in the shortest possible time without in any way injuring the fabric. The cylinder reverses silently —no jar. Furthermore, the loosened dirt is immediately sep- arated from the clothes, passing out through the holes in the cylinder and settling at the bottom of the tub. You have your choice of either a hard maple or zinc cylinder in the A-B-C. The A-B-C is BELT DRIVEN. No friction clutch is required. The “V”’ belt is a positive drive with no loss of power in transmission, but by slipping in case of an overload on the wringer it absolutely protects the motor against costly “burnouts” and “blowing” of fuses. Tension of the belt is adjusted by simply turning a convenient thumbscrew. ‘Fhe A-B-C is made in full cabinet and open models, having all working parts encased, with either galvanized Armco Iron tub enameled outside.or copper tub tinned inside. For farm and suburban use it.is furnished with- out motor, but with pulley for belt drive from gasoline en- gine, overhead shaft or farm lighting plant service motor. Instructions for Machine Washing Free The simplified A-B-C method of washing is explained in “The A-B-C of Wash Day Book”. The method de- scribed is recommended by Good Housekeeping Institute, Mildred Maddocks, director. It will be sent free with the name of the A-B-C dealer. Write for it now. ALTORFER BROS..COMPANY PEORIA, ILLINOIS Leading manufacturers of power and electric washing machines in America

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The design illustrated is the ‘‘Fusan’’ pattern in Syracuse China, HINA can have atmosphere or it can be just “‘dishes/’’ It can cast a lustrous glow of charm and color over your table, yes, over your dining room itself, if it’s the right china. Syracuse China comes in those rich, lovely designs and colors that prove you have given thought to your selection, that are a tribute to your good taste. Do not choose hastily.’ Select a Syracuse pattern you will always like, for Syracuse China is so well made that you will have it for a long, long time. Ft So many women have learned the beauty and permanency of this **Made-in-America’’ china and are insisting upon it and no other, that it is not always possible for your dealer to fill your order im- mediately. It is well worth while to wait, though, for Syracuse China. SYRACUSE CHINA ONONDAGA POTTERY COMPANY Syracuse, New York 140 HOME JOURNAL April, 1920 Everyman’s Child (CONTINUED FROM PAGE 139) Shortly after two years’ operation of the law, a careful and critical survey was made of the first one hundred families granted al- lowances by the board. This survey was made to enable the board to compare the conditions existing in such families before and after the allowances were made and the general results achieved through the grant- ing of assistance. The tabulators found that the investigations were generally thorough and that the legal status of applicants, en- titling them to allowances, was carefully verified before assistance was given. For the first time in their experience most of the widows who were receiving allowances were getting adequate relief. As a matter of fact, the budget upon which the board now acts is being accepted by many organiza- tions in and out of the city as a basis for the relief granted by private or public societies. The good results brought about by the allowances were shown by the greatly im- proved conditions in the homes and particu- larly in the better health of both mothers and children. When it is considered that almost all the time and thought of the board’s investigators are taken up in carry- ing out the imperative provisions of the stat- ute, receiving applications, investigating those apparently eligible for help, and re- porting upon them, leaving but little time for what is commonly known as “social serv- ice” work, it must be apparent that the chief factor in the improvement of the fam- ilies under the board’s care has been the enlarged incomes made possible by the allowances granted by the board, One Who Knows ILLIAM H. MATTHEWS, director of the Department of Family Welfare of the New York Association for Improving the Conditions of the Poor, who has had the most intimate acquaintance with private relief organizations in New York City for some years and was a member of the Board of Child Welfare of New York City from its beginning and its first president, has well said: “The records of the Board of Child Wel- fare show beyond doubt, in my opinion, that the privations and sufferings which widows with dependent children were compelled to undergo before the city undertook to care for them were most real. They show that the claims once made by private relief or- ganizations that there was no need of such form of relief were not based on facts. Wid- owed mothers were working beyond all strength and decency in their efforts to keep their children fed and clothed, and little chil- dren were being left uncared for because of the necessity of their mothers being away all day and sometimes well into the night at work in shops, stores and office build- ings. . « “Let us be glad that New York State saw fit to come to the rescue of these individual mothers and their children. Personally I hope that it will at its next session move an- other step forward and so amend the law as to include within its provisions all children born in this country, so far as they come within the requirements of the law. Quite apart from the fact of the inability of pri- vate relief to care properly for these fam- ilies, I am mysclf convinced of the wisdom and the justice of the policy of securing the necessary moneys for such purpose from the community as a whole, rather than depend- ing upon the inclination and the generosity of those who are able to make contributions to private relief organizations. . There is less danger of breaking the spirit and morale of those who must temporarily re- ceive such assistance than when given from private sources. And this is all-important.” All that has been accompiished by this public assistance for mothers or widows in New York State and in many states may be accomplished for every child who is a public charge or a prospective one and is suffering only from poverty. Work of the Children’s Court N A SURVEY of the work of the Chil- dren’s Court of New York City, it was found that out of 13,994 children arraigned in that court in 1918 and six months of 1919, only eleven came from among the children whose mothers are receiving widows’ pen- sions. As against these eleven children, re- ferred to the probation department, 908 children of other widows, not coming under the Widows’ Pension Law, were placed under probation. This remarkable showing demonstrates that only eleven children out of sixteen thousand under the care of the Board of Child Welfare have had to come under the probation of the Children’s Court, when the mother is able to care for her own chil- dren in her own home. Before the passage of the Widows’ Pension Law in 1914, out of 1846 children coming under the jurisdiction of the probation department of the Chil- dren’s Court, 334 were children of widows referred to the probation department. This number increased in 1918 to 908 children. So, since the number of children of widows before the Children’s Court has annually increased, it would be safe to assume that out of the sixteen thousand children of widows under the jurisdiction of the Child Welfare Act, many more would have found their way to the Children’s Court but for the home care they have enjoyed. In connection with these facts, the presid- ing justice of the Children’s Court, Franklin Chase Hoyt, says: ‘‘There ought to be more private homes for neglected children. It has been the consistent policy of the Children’s Court to place all children whose environ- ment must be changed in homes of rela- tives, friends and private families just as far as possible, instead of committing them to institutions. . . . The Children’s Court in seeking to work out solutions for many of these cases, and amid normal surroundings, should have better facilities than exist at present to find homes of the right type. “The adoption of the constitutional amendment . would enable the court to appoint legal guardians for children in need, a power which at present it does not possess. This lack of authority to confer absolute guardianship oftentimes prevents relatives and private persons from accepting the charge of children because of fear of their parents or of the inconvenience which might arise from their actions,” The Wonderful Record of New York S AN evidence of what can be done in the homes of the children’s mothers or their natural guardians as against institutions, the city of New York spent in the first six months of 1919, $959,393 for the care of 16,526 chil dren, together with their mothers, more than five thousand widows. For the same period the city of New York spent for 20,868 children in private institu- tions $1,790,688. In other words, from a monetary stand- point, to say nothing of the great humani- tarian element involved, it actually cost New York nearly twice as much to keep chil- dren in institutional homes, as compared with the cost of keeping them in the private homes of their mothers. If the children, public charges of the city, had been kept in private homes, under proper guardianship at the same rate that the Board of Child Welfare keeps children in the homes of their mothers, New York would have saved in 1919 more than a mil- lion dollars! H, THE way was hard, and the wind was cold, And the fire in the heart was growing old; Then you shone on the sky like a throb- bing star, And I saw the gates of the dawn unbar; You came to me here inthis battle of men, And the horns of Arcady blew again! Gates of Paradise By Edwin Markham Whenever I hear your spirit sing I feel the touch of a mystic wing; At the sudden glance of, your tender eye I am up and under another sky; I have climbed from the dust; I have paid the price; I am treading the paths of my paradise! —— ——— ows

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Everymeal ~ Everyday HOME JOURNAL — So Serve Tak-hom-a Biscuit—“Splits in two” Truly, there are so many ways to serve Tak-hom-a Biscuit, it’s hard to judge which you’ll like best. Tak-hom-a Biscuit are the only soda crackers that split in two exactly. They make dainty sandwiches—no crumbs to scatter and much easier to handle. And there’s scarcely a course in luncheon or din- ner that doesn’t call for fresh, crisp Tak-hom-a Biscuit. Serve Tak-hom-a Biscuit often. For they are not only delightfully good in themselves, but also bring out the subtle flavors of many other dishes. Fairy tale pictures and cunning verses are packed in most Sunshine cartons JoosE-WiLes Biscuit (OMPANY Bakers of Sunshine Biscuits Branches in over 100 cities Tak-hom-a Biscuit with Chicken Broth—California Make a rich chicken broth. Serve in consommé cups with a thin slice of orange in each cup. Tak-hom-a Biscuit bring out all its Tak-hom-a Biscuit with Crab Flake Relish Blend 2 minced pimentos, 1 cup crab flakes, 2 table- spoons tartar sauce. Spread over corn oysters. Sprinkle with grated cheese. Brown. Serve Tak-hom-a Biscuit. Eg¢ Salad Americaine Remove centers of sound tomatoes. Season. Place a hard-cooked egg upright in each tomato. Garnish with lettuce. Mayonnaise. Serve ice-cold with Tak- hom-a Biscuit. 141 delicate, subtle flavors. ee ca it a i Fy. . sean e wh aos stain E have prepared a Fairy Tale Book of VY Rhymes, handsomely illus- trated. To partly cover cost of preparation and mailing, send 5c in coin (no stamps accepted) to this company, Dept. B, 809 Commerce Building, Kansas City, Mo. Dept. B, 809 Commerce Building, Kansas City, Mo. Please send me a copy of “Sunshine Hints for the Hostess,"’ | illustrating scores of delicious biscuit uses. Grocer’s Name. Grocer’s Addresa___

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Building Up Arches - With Inserts Most foot troubles result from dislocated bones. Relief comes when the bones are restored to normal position. As normal feet vary greatly, no two arches are alike. Unless the support used is the exact shape of the arch, one bad condition is merely replaced by another, possibly worse. Furthermore the change back tonormal should be made gradually. This requires a support which can be made to conform to the exact shape of the arch, and can be easily and frequently adjusted. The Wizard Lightfoot Arch Builder does this per- fectly. Beneath these all-leather insoles are over- lapping pockets, so located that inserts of any desired thickness can be inserted in exactly the right place to support the dislocated bones in normal position. Adjustments are simply made by shifting inserts or changing their thickness. Being all leather, Wizard Lightfoot Corrective Insoles are light, flexible and are worn without one’s being conscious of them. Wizard Lightfoot Corrective Insoles are sold by lead- ing dealers everywhere. Usually where they are sold there is an expert who has made a study of fitting them. If there is no such dealer near you, write the Wizard Foot Appliance Company, 1705 Locust Street, St.Louis, Mo., or 936 Marbridge Bldg., New York City. Ask for “‘Orthopraxy of the Foot’’—a simple treatise on foot troubles. No charge. ALL LEATHER wizare HOME JOURNAL April, 1920 BUILDERS ~ The Water Baby (CONTINUED FROM PAGE 31) shape shoot up toward him through the deep water. Before he could reach his mother or even the surface two sets of crooked, keen claws, like curved chisels, pierced deep into his woolly hide. So swift and stealthy was the attack that the calf was caught in a deadly grip and found himself speeding away without a chance to cry out or signal his plight to his sleeping dam. Fifty yards away from her the bear rose to the surface for a long breath. The struggling calf came up with him and gave one gurgling, half-strangled bleat almost drowned in the tumult of the near-by surf. It was enough. The walrus has bleared eyes, but none of the sea folk, save only the sea Otter, has a keener sense of hearing or smell. At the very first sound of her calf’s cry for help, the vast bulk of the slumbering cow righted itself and, with a gurgling bellow, she started under water like a submarine toward the sound. The unwieldy body seemed to yield and shape itself to the pressure of the water and, as this one started for the shore, its flat, five-fingered fore flippers beat the water under the thrust of the gigantic muscles of the pillar-like forelegs with tremendous drives, while the long, hind flippers, which dangled so limp and useless on dry land, now whirled and drove through the water like twin screws. The bear had caught the sound of the rag- ing bellow of the walrus even as it dived. Shifting his grip, he clamped his long, glit- tering teeth deep into the furry neck of the calf and swung into the tremendous, racing stroke that the polar bear has developed through the water lanes and across wide stretches of troubled seas in its long hunts and far journeyings among the shifting ice floes of the north. The white bear is perhaps among the swiftest swimmers of any of the animals which live on land, but no land ani- mal can compete in swimming with the sea folk. | perme poe by the calf, the bear plunged into the surf only a few yards behind the rushing bulk whose track in the deep water could be followed by the swirling bubbles and whirlpools which showed on the surface. As the bear emerged from the surf he found himself close to the point where on a black flat rock at the end of the line, the largest bull of the herd lay sleeping until it was his turn to be prodded into sentry duty. Man excepted, there are few things in air, water, or on earth which the grim, white bear of the frozen north fears. He is a fighter by profession. Against wolf, wolver- ine, snowy owl and killer whale, he contends for food and fights for the very blood of his life. Yet, grim outlaw that he was, this bear was not willing to try conclusions with a mother walrus robbed of her calf. No land animal will willingly give a sea fighter the odds of the water. Already she was so close that he could feel the surge of the water, driven ahead of her, beat against his trailing hindlegs, for a polar bear, like a crawl swimmer, uses only its forepaws in swimming. Right in front of him towered the sleeping bull. The bear hesitated not a second. In spite of his tusks and bulk he preferred the chances on land with the bull to those in the water with the cow. Ordinarily he would have had a good chance to pass the vast, sentinel bulk, even dragging the half- dead calf which he clung to with all the tenacity of his fighting breed. Unfortunately for the bear, by one of the grim ironies which fate inflicts upon the wild folk as well as upon us humans, this particular patriarch happened to be the mate of the mother walrus. As she came up from the surf, she saw the gaunt, ghostly form of her foe, with her dear-loved calf in his jaws, escaping from her pursuit to the safety of the rock, and she bellowed hoarsely her rage and agony at the sight. At the sound the vast bulk which blocked the way of the bear changed from a slug of shapeless flesh to the most terrible of all the land animals of the northern world—an en- raged bull walrus. EN all is said and done, the walrus is the overlord of the northland, if once he asserts his kingship. Once aroused he is as irresistible as an avalanche. The lean, swift bear knew all this, but he had no choice. Hard at his heels snorted the cow, yearning to come to grips with him in the surf. Any choice was better than a duel to the death in the water with her. As his long claws clamped on the slippery rock table he shook the salt water from his creamy white fur and stood for a moment with the calf in his jaws and then whirled the three hundred pounds of bone and blubber carelessly over one mighty shoulder as a cat might carry a rat. As he stood there, lithe and alert, one steel-shod paw advanced, he seemed the embodiment of the fierce, un- flinching silent north. The sound of his mate’s distress call aroused the bull to fury in an instant. Under his code he must fight to the death for mate or calf. He towered up on his fore flippers six feet high, while his gray-whiskered face wrinkled with rage, and glaring eyes made him look like one of the horrible trolls of northland legend. IEN he saw his calf dripping from the black-rimmed jaws of the bear, he gave the fearful, snorting bellow which from a walrus bull means killing. Undaunted, the great bear shifted his weight to his right paw, for the polar bear is left-handed, and with all his fierce strength struck directly up at his opponent. The five, curved, chiseling talons struck the awful face towering over him just above one of the walrus’ eyes, and cut through the thick hide like paper, destroying the eye and ripping off the whole side of the face clear down to the tusk. Dropping the calf between his forepaws, the bear pivoted like a boxer and delivered another full swing with his other steel-shod paw, which struck the side of the vast wrinkled neck, ripping out a mass of hide and blubber. There are few animals in the world which can stand up against the crashing full sweep of a bear’s paw. It would have broken the neck of a musk ox or a wolf, but the three thousand pounds of braced blubber, bone and muscle never even rocked under the impact of the two mighty blows. As the hot blood streamed down from the awful track of the bear’s claws, the old bull roared with an unearthly noise that seemed to come from underground, but there was never a sound from the bear. He fought as silently as some fell white ghost. Before the bear could disentangle his claws from the tough hide which they had pierced so deeply and recover his balance, the vast head tipped back until the gleaming two-foot tusks were just above the tense white body. There was an effortless bob of the grim head. In comparison with the sweeping crashing strokes of the bear the attack of the bull seemed almost puerile, a casual dig with his tusks. Yet the fight was over. The bull had leaned forward as he struck so that the blow had meant that the stroke of the tusks was backed by a ton of blubber, brawn and bone. As the short tusks were withdrawn, in place of the vibrant, fierce figure of a second before there was only a shapeless mass of white fur dabbled with blood. Snorting with rage, the bull again and again pounded trip-hammer blows on the battered body of the bear until it was only a pulp of bloody fur and mashed flesh and bone. HE mother walrus reached the beach just as the last blow was delivered and, with- out a glance at the shattered body of the bear, with one quick motion drew to herself the motionless shape of her calf. She rubbed her huge head caressingly against the furry little body, making a kind of continual, low, moo- ing sound. Then, as the calf did not answer, she dragged her great bulk up on the rock and tried again and again to persuade it to nurse. At the taste of the warm, sweet milk the battered, bruised, gashed little calf revived and nuzzled closer to his mother, whimpering out his wrongs, while beside her the great bull, filled with the madness of battle, prod- ded his neighbor and roared with rage. As the nearest walrus to him caught the smell and sight of the blood of both walrus and bear he, too, bellowed with fury. Ina few moments the whole line was roaring and raging, a mass of fierce, weaving heads, wild rolling eyes and thrusting tusks. Other walruses, as if aware of the tumult by some sixth sense, began to pop up irom the bottom of the sea, like horrible mermen, their mouths still full of the clams on which they had been feeding. Heedless of the whole wild scene, as the white mist closed down, the cow held her rescued calf close and closer to her. —— Tht

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ae SS nn Bp * . 5g FT ey 4 t if my bof \ t \ SSS ERE RUSE RENE GAS Fs 28S SES SREP SIRS Added Features That Cost Us Over $100,000 Annually HIS beautiful Sellers represents the highest ideal in kitchen cabinet con- venience. Nowhere, we are sure, can you match its beauty or work-saving features. For 28 years we have striven for this per- fected model. Every available means has been employed to make it supreme. To give you these work-saving conven- iences—improvements combined in no other cabinet—costs us over $100,000 extra each year. These are the Special Sellers Improvements (Note illustrations at the left) (1) Automatic Lowering Flour Bin. Most important invention on kitchen cabinets. Comes down level with work table. Easily filled. Saves dangerous climbing and lifting. Ap- proved by physicians. Coste us $52,000 extra, annually, more than the best of other kinds of bins. (2) Automatic Base Shelf Extender. Welcomed everywhere as a long needed improvement. When you open the lower cupboard door the shelf automatically comes out, bringing the pots and pans within easy reach. costs us over $9,000 extra, annually. (3) Dust-proof Base Top Underneath the Porceliron Work Table. The Dust-proof Base Top is a Sellers idea. Keeps the dust from working under the work table into the lower cupboards. This improvement costs us over $14,250 extra annually. This improvement The Porceliron work table is a refinement all women want. Always clean, sanitary. Cannot crack, peel or chip. (4) Ant-proof Casters. Prevents ants and other small pests rom crawling up legs into cabinet. Cost us $10,000 each year more than ordinary casters. , Dovetail Construction. Most durable construction known. Used on all high-grade furniture. Costs us over $7,500 more, annually, than ordinary cabinet construction. Glass Drawer Pulls. Easily cleaned. Will not tarnish. Cost us over $2,250 more, annually, than ordinary drawer pulls or handles. (5) Oil Hand-rubbed Finish. Successfully resists steam and climatic changes in the kitchen. Selected only after rigid tests. Costs us over $9,750 more to apply, poe | year, than other finishes. Go See the Sellers— - It Costs No More Good dealers everywhere have the Sellers Kitchen Cabinet. Go to the one in your town. You will find the price no higher than that of any good cabinet. The extra conveniences cost you nothing. Further- more, most Sellers dealers will arrange terms to suit your income. So there is no reason why you should not own a Sellers. Also write for our ‘$100,000 Feature Booklet.” It illustrates and describes the Sellers. Handsomely printed in full color. We will mail a copy free upon request. G. I. SELLERS & SONS CO., Elwood, Indiana Canadiar Factory: Sellers Kitchen Cabinet Co. of Canada, Southampton, Ontario, Canada CABINETS “The Best Servant in Your House” ~ wf

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ah 4 ~ EEK Ss KES SAAN ~ Ss * “e LL LOL EE LE VT _— — = < < . ; a wr 1

2... | Od —— im, » . +) Bue * Copyright 1920—The Palmolive Company

HOME JOURNAL — aan Every complexion needs soap F you have the superstition that soap does not agree with your skin, one of twothins is wrong. You are either using, the wron~, soap, or the right soap the wron?, way. True, an oily skin needs different care from one whichis overdry. But dirt, oily secretions, powder, that touch of rouge, must be washed away. Otherwise they will clog the pores and actually poison the skin. Cleopatra knew this simplest of beauty secrets. Those who picture her as depending, upon cos- metics to enhance her beauty are sadly wron, It istrue she rouged and probably powdered, as most women do today. But thorough, radi- ant cleanliness was her first law. How did Cleopatra wash her face? In Palm and Olive Oils, Nature’s pentle cleans- ers, justas you may today. While hers was a crude combination and yours the perfected blend, the principle is the same. Buy acake of Palmolive Soap, made from these same fine oils, and follow these simple direc- tions. They will make your skin smooth and soft, your complexion clear, fresh, %lowin, and rosy. If you have an oily skin Rub up a stiff Palmolive lather between your hands and massage it softly into your skin until it penetrates every pore. Rub ~ently. You mustn't roughen the delicate texture of the skin with harsh treatment. Use pleasantly warm water, Then dissolve this creamy lather with Zentle rinsing, cooling, the water until it is refresh- ingly cold. Keep on rinsin3, until you are sure that every particle is washed away—carrying with it the dirt, excess 011 deposits, dead skin, dried perspiration, the remainin3, traces of rouge and powder—all poisonous deposits which clo},poresandinvite blackheads,blotches and general skin imperfections. A clean skin is a healthy skin, as all physi- cians will tell you. If your skin is dry If you must supplement the natural oils of the skin with applications of cold cream, apply a zenerous coat of Palmolive Cold Cream before you do any washin}, Then follow the same directions %iven above. Be just as thorough in applying, the lather, rinse just as carefully. Dry your face gently with soft clean towel, and then look into your mirror. You will find your skin as smooth as velvet, supple and fine textured. A final touch of the cream may be added as desired. The striking thing about Palmolive Manufactured in small quantities Palmolive would bea very expensive soap. But enormous production has reduced cost until its moderate price is a strik- in}, feature. The Palmolive factories work day and nipht—ingredients are imported from over-seas in

enormous volume. And so Palmolive costs no more than ordinary soaps. You can afford it for every toilet purpose. Remember there is no preater lux- ury than a bath with Palmolive. Palmolive soap is sold by dealers everywhere. It is made by The Palmolive Company, Milwaukee, U.S. A. The Palmolive Company of Canada, Limited. Toronto, Ontario PALMOLIVE ¢

April, 1920 7 <<<

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HOME JOURNAL A Stenographer Should Know— By Helen Ormsbee whether you are “just average” or ex- ceptional depends upon a good many things besides your ability to make clear notes and type an attractive-looking letter. These qualifications I take for granted; they are the fundamentals of your profession, the substructure on which it stands. But no architect is content to rear only the first few stories of a city skyscraper; indeed, it is said that the lower floors go to meet expenses, and the top stories bring the profits. Fanciful as the comparison may seem, this may be applied to stenography; it is the stenographer’s ‘“‘top story,” if one may so designate her brains, that brings her in- creased salary and opportunity. To be valu- able one must not only be able to take notes and run a typewriter, but one must also apply to these tasks an intelligence which other people either cannot or do not bring. What, then, are some of the qualifications for success, over and above technical skill in shorthand and typing? Here is a list: 1. A good fund of general information. 2. Skill in writing English. 3. Reasonable knowledge of the branches of the business with which one is connected. 4, Imagination. 5. Capacity for taking pains. Under the heading “general information”’ may be included a knowledge of what is in the daily papers, familiarity with the city where one’s business is located, a general acquaintance with American and European history and a memory trained to retain names of people, places and commodities. These, however, are only a few of the bits of information which a person with an alert mind will have picked up in school, in read- ing, or in ordinary conversation. There is, in fact, no kind of knowledge, no degree of education, which will not prove useful in stenography. How could it be otherwise, with letters on nearly every sub- ject in the world being dictated every day somewhere? And the worst—or rather, the best—of it is that no stenographer can wholly escape this varying flood of thought, for even though she is in the pickle business her employer may in his off hours have a taste for poetry or photography or orchid raising, and traces of these will creep into his dictation. L: YOU are a stenographer, the question Ways of Gaining General Information I’ COURSE, it is impossible for any one person to know something about every- thing, but the wider a stenographer’s knowl- edge of current events, people, places, motor-car parts, history, music, golf or poultry raising, the easier will it be for her to take dictation. How may one acquire a fund of general information or increase the amount one al- ready has? First, read a good newspaper every day; but the reading, like everything else, must be done with intelligence. To turn at once to the comic page and look for the latest pictures of “ Dippy and Dopey” may be refreshing, but will not be especially informing. You will,of course, want to glance over the important events in the world at large, and after that it would be well to read local news with an eye to what affects your business. You may see that your com- pany has formed a merger or that your em- ployer has been appointed chairman of some citizens’ committee. In the latter case he will be very likely to say to you during the day: “By the way, Miss Jones, I want to get this letter out to the men who are going to serve on the com- mittee for what-you-may-call-it.”” You will then understand perfectly what he means by “what-you-may-call-it,” and you will prob- ably know the kind of letter he wants to send before he begins to dictate. The finan- cial columns and the death notices should also be gone over for any items in which he would be likely to be interested, and other uses for the daily paper will suggest them- selves to you. A stenographer should make it a point to know the neighborhoods of the city in which her business is located. If the town is large she will find it worth while to study a map and a street directory. She should notice Ow street names are spelled; also, which — have high numbers and which do not run above two hundred or three hundred. This will prevent one’s sending letters to impossible addresses, such, for ex- ample, as 2501 Seventieth Street, New York City. If you are a stranger never make that an excuse for misdirecting a letter; it is your business to learn the city. In the same way, if your correspondence is nation-wide, brush up your geography and familiarize yourself with the names of im- portant cities in the different states. It Will Pay to Review Your History ao sana + of brushing up, why not take your old school histories down from the top shelf and read them over? The best way, perhaps, is to read rapidly, not making it too much of a task, but simply refreshing your memory in regard to Benjamin Frank- lin, Roger Williams, Peter Stuyvesant, Davy Crockett, John Smith, Harriet Beecher Stowe, Washington and Lincoln, Grant and Lee, Bunker Hill, Yorktown, Gettysburg, Appomattox and a host of other people and events, to any one of which there may be reference in the dictation you take. The spelling of people’s names is another part of a stenographer’s stock in trade. She should form the habit of noticing various spellings and of remembering that Samuel MacKay, to whom she wrote on Wednes- day, has one more letter in his last name than Austin McKay, to whom she is writing to-day. Correspondence which misspells a person’s name begins by making an unfavor- able impression on him or her. We come now to that very important subject, the ability to write not only gram- matically, but gracefully. Reading good books is the best way to learn to love good English. Too many people seem to think that because a language is their native tongue, they know all they need to know about it. This is like the self-made man who, deciding to overcome his early lack of education, sent for a tutor. “Learn me French,” he commanded. “I can talk Eng- lish good enough myself.” Robert Louis Stevenson, however, became one of the greatest masters of beautiful English by constant practice. He set himself to re- write passages from books he had read, and compare the results with the originals A stenographer should train herself to compose letters, for a busy employer would be glad to turn parts of his correspondence over to her with just the directions: ‘Tell this man no,” “ Yes, I’ll accept that offer,” or “Sorry, can’t possibly attend.” Other Ways in Which to be Useful OW in writing some one else’s letters, there are two things to be considered. The first is wording them well; the second is writing the kind of letter that the other person would write. This latter requires that you put yourself in the place of the supposed writer. Would he be anxious not to offend the person addressed? Then elaborate a little on “Sorry, can’t possibly attend.” Lengthen the note somewhat, and arrange it on the page so that it will not appear as short as it really is. If your employer has a good command of English, you can learn a great deal by the study of what he dictates. Think over the letters he has given you and ask yourself why he turned his sentences in the way he did. He doubtless had reasons, and if you can find them out it will help you in taking future dictation. Above all,-don’t be con- tent to let a letter go through your hands without understanding what it means. If it contains a technical phrase that sounds like Greek to you, mark it in your notes and afterward find out about it. Imagination Plays a Big Part S A RULE, however, if a sentence you have taken does not seem to make sense, there is probably some slight mistake in the notes. They may be perfectly clear, for naturally you set down what you heard, but there is a possibility that you heard wrong. This is at least as likely as that the dictator’s tongue slipped. In-either case, try to repair the damage before presenting the letter for signature, for your employer will have your mental measure pretty quickly if you hand him nonsense. The correct use of prepositions, it is said, is the last refinement in writing. It is well to notice how these small words are used by good writers. Very little need be said here as to the value of knowing something about the in- dustry with which you are connected. The advantages are obvious. If you understand the business, its history and its present problems, you will not be puzzled by trade terms or technical descriptions. Imagination has more place in an office than most people suppose. If you find that your shorthand notes are lacking a few words, this is a time to apply constructive imagination. Try to think what words ought to be there to carry out the thought. Eight times out of ten, if you think to good pur- pose, you can recall those missing words. At home, get someone to dictate part of a magazine article to you, leaving out a word or two here and there, and then see if you can supply them. This is splendid practice. When you are opening the morning’s mail, try to imagine what kind of answers will be sent to the letters it contains. Later, when the replies are actually dictated, you can see how nearly right your guesses were. If you were right, the dictation will be much easier for you; if wrong, you will be learning more about your employer’s point of view. Give Careful Attention to Details HE last, and in some ways the most important, of a successful stenographer’s qualifications is that infinite capacity for taking pains which has sometimes been de- scribed as genius. Genius or not, in an office it is an invaluable trait; yet it is surprising to see how few people cultivate it. Many a girl who touches the typewriter keys like lightning will send out a letter incorrectly addressed or without its inclosure or with a word omitted; yet any one of these mis- takes may cause serious trouble. The secret of such errors is irresponsibility. Now in business, people are paid largely in accordance with their capacity for shoulder- ing responsibility, for seeing a thing through from start to finish. So it is worth while to train oneself to take pains. One way of doing this is to learn from one’s mistakes. If you send a letter without an inclosure, at once establish a routine for handling outgoing mail so that this cannot happen again. The cleverest stenographer I ever knew used to read letters over aloud syllable by syllable, to make sure of detecting typo- graphical errors. Letters he inspected were absolutely right. He, by the way, is no longer a stenographer, but has an excellent executive position. The Benefits are Manifold VERY recommendation here made has been learned through practical business experience and is based on the observation of stenographers of every grade, from raw be- ginners to people with exceptional training and skill in shorthand. Finally, returning for a moment to the skyscraper comparison, all these suggestions are aimed to show the office worker how to get an ever-increasing return from her “top story,” resulting not only in professional advancement, but also in the growth of in- telligence and character. sho ers h pp + Chis (I Joorted ) Now you may wear hair nets that are re-sterilized You'll enjoy the security of wearing Bownet—the hair net that is re-ster- ilized before it reaches your boudoir. It is even pro- tected against handling by other for matching—sealed in a dainty double envelope. You make your selec- tion from the Bow- net Shade Guide, which shows the greatest variety of shades known in hair nets—sixteen. You alone break the seal on the packet containing this daintily fra- grant wonder web of real human hair—Bownet. n/ ma,

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HOME JOURNAL April, 1920

It is good for them Untutored little minds always reflect faithfully the dictates of nature. When an infant cries for its bottle it is the natural expression of a desire for food. Later on, when as a child the same infant asks for candy, it is a similar natural craving. For two generations Huyler’s has been recognized as good candy. Teach your children to know Huyler’s as you were taught to know it.

—o —_ Ask for your favorite

67 Stores Agencies almost everywhere In Canada-many agencies: factory and store in Toronto Prices Higher in Pacific Coast States

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From Hopeless Soil (CONTINUED FROM PAGE 21) “The time has come when I must,” he re- joined. “Your future is now assured. You don’t need me any more.” She arose and stood gazing at him, her hands behind her back, the firelight throw- ing gigantic shadows of her on the wall. “Not need you any more?” she echoed. “Just what do you mean, John?” “T mean that when I have told you of the circumstances under which I met your father you will decide that you don’t need me any more.” “What were persisted. “You are too tired to-night,” he parried; “you told me yourself half an hour ago that you did not wish to talk to anybody.” the circumstances?” she HE returned to her seat, settled herself comfortably and announced: ‘‘Then you do the talking, and I shall listen. To-night is my night, you know—my great night. I want to hear about your acquaintance with my father to-night, especially as you have not mentioned it to me during the four years in which you have seen me almost every day.” She sat forward a little, folded her hands upon her crossed knees and waited, looking him full in the eyes. Accepting her obvious challenge, he be- gan, returning her straight look: “Fifteen years ago, when I was well into my ’teens, I graduated from a newspaper route to the gutter.” “The gutter?” she repeated, and a look of sharp pain flitted across her mobile face. “Yes, Alice; the gutter,” he reaffirmed in alowvoice, tense withemotion. ‘‘Mymother, who was a singer, died when I was eight years old. My father I never saw. My earliest recollections—and I might add my only recollections—of my childhood before she died were her singing of ‘Ben Bolt’ and a violin which she had given me. When mother died, somebody—it must have been a creditor—took the violin away. “The memory of the song has always re- mained with me. The winter in which she died—and was buried in potter’s field, as I have since found out—I took to the streets and sold newspapers. I shall never forget how bitterly cold it was, and how glad I was when a night watchman downtown permit- ted me to sleep on the grating over an engine room.” “Oh,” she sighed, and he saw her eyes fill with tears. ‘Poor, dear little boy!” Her pity brought a husky quality into his voice as he proceeded: “That night watch- man was very kind to me. One night, when there was a blizzard, he induced the engineer of the building to let me sleep in the engine room, and the engineer gave me a ham-and- bean sandwich, a piece of apple pie and a can of coffee.” He saw that her finely chiseled lips trembled, that the fingers of her folded hands gripped her knees tightly, that her breath came and went fast. E WENT on: “TI drifted into the com- pany of other newsboys, and we took to petty thieving. Before I was fifteen an older companion introduced me to the white crys- talline powder - “Cocaine?” she questioned, wincing. “Cocaine,” he replied, ‘‘the crystalline white powder that wrecks wills, breaks bodies and ruins lives. Things went on from bad to worse. In my seventeenth year I was a con- firmed thief and cocaine user. One night, after a break into a little grocery store, where I did my part in robbing the till, I took an extra large dose of the drug, and awoke in the Tombs. I heard voices, and opening my eyes I saw a man in a surgeon’s white coat standing at a telephone at the other end of the room. “T was completely indifferent at first to anything that was going on around me. I must have been almost dead from hunger, from cold, from the effects of the terrible habit that had obtained so firm a hold upon me. When a man is approaching death there comes a moment when he no longer responds to the impulse to prolong life, when his only desire is to hasten, if possible, the end. That moment had come to me. “Then I heard the voice of the man at the telephone. He was saying: “Mr. Commissioner, this boy is not fit to live.’ “The announcement came to me like good news. I suppose I must have smiled with relief at the prospect of ceasing to suffer. And then something came to me like an electric shock. It came from the telephone receiver, with a distinctness approaching the clearness of direct speech.”

John Fenton paused, looked away as if he sought to recall something out of the past, returned his gaze to Alice Hilton, and said: “That was the first time I heard your father’s voice, Alice.” She nodded comprehendingly. “TI under- stand. He was commissioner of correction at that time. What was he saying?” “He was saying: ‘If he is not fit to live he is not fit to die, doctor. I want everything done that can possibly be done to pull him through and put him on his feet again.’”’ “That was just like him,” sighed Alice. “His life was wrapped up in his work of saving men—from the abyss. He wrote a book about his experiences in restoring suf- ferers from the drug habit—sufferers, he called them, not criminals or offenders, but sufferers.” “My record is in that book, Alice,’ he re- joined. “You will find it on page 161. I am listed as Number 92.” He puffed at his cigar for a moment of silence, threw the cigar into the fireplace, drew a long breath and continued: “The sound of that voice and the message it con- veyed came to me like a summons to life. I shall not try to tell you of the terrible despair, weakness of will and aches of the body that I suffered in the long period dur- ing which the doctors in the prison hospital, carrying out your father’s instructions, fought to bring me back and break the power of the crystalline white drug. I shall not try to tell you, because I cannot.” “(\NE day, in the spring, they took me to the island down the harbor where your father was establishing what he called his laboratory for the restoration of broken lives.” “Tt must have been a terrible place at first. Father has described it in his book.” “Tt had been used as a city dump for years,” he went on. ‘ Ashes and other refuse had been piling up there for years, moun- tains of it. That was the place the city had given your father for his laboratory. I sup- pose the city fathers expected him to pile the broken lives along with the other refuse,” he speculated bitterly. ‘‘ But Commissioner Hilton made the parsimony of the city an instrument for the repairing of broken lives. In that wilderness of rubbish heaps he found the element that has proved the vital part of his process of restoration. He found the hard work that he relied upon to make his cures effective. “What he intended to do with that city dump we soon found out. One day, about a fortnight after I had been taken to the island and assigned to a barrack, the department steamboat, the Correction, warped up to the pier and the report flew in undertones from mouth to mouth: ‘The Commish! The Commish !’ “That day I met your father face to face for the first time. I heard him asking one of the keepers: ‘Where’s Number 92?’ I was quickly brought forward. My first glimpse of the Commissioner reminded me of Napoleon Bonaparte, of whom I had read and whose pictures I had seen—the same well-shaped head, the same high forehead, the same straight, short and compact figure, the same air of determination that, in my youthful imagination, I had ascribed to the great Corsican conqueror. “The Commissioner looked me over with those keen, gray eyes, which to me seemed ineffably kind in the recollection of his words: ‘If he is not fit to live he is not fit to die, doctor.’ “He asked me for my name. ***John Fenton, sir,’ I replied. “<That’s a good name,’ he said to me. ‘I know a Fenton who is a very good man. I want you to pull yourself together and be a good man too.’ “He looked away across the water to the forest of tall buildings beyond in a thought- ful way, as if he were weighing something in his mind.” ““FTXHEN he turned to me again: ‘Is there anything that you are interested in Sie mean outside?’ nodding toward the city across the water. “The question moved me deeply. It was the first time since that night at the Tombs that I had been spoken to as an individual instead of a number. ‘I used to have 4 violin, sir,’ I answered hesitatingly. ; ““A violin?’ he repeated. ‘You like music, then!’ “““Ves, sir; my mother was a singer.” “Oh, that’s it, is it?’ he exclaimed, his face brightening. Then he turned to the CONTINUED ON PAGE 148

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he st d: ur -r- On. ve ng im he ut n- ir- irt he nis ne id, re, ny he th ed his fit 1is he HOME JOURNAL 147 SLA Better Car Because tt is @ Simpler Car THE FRANKLIN SEDAN The dependability, the economy, and the fineness of the Franklin Sedan’s performance may all be traced back to its simplicity in construction, in operation, and in routine care. Its freedom from tire trouble, for example, is unequaled because the Franklin Sedan is made light and flexible. It has none of the common complications, nor any of the handicaps of heavy, rigid weight. Franklin tires average 12,500 miles to the set, with only three punctures and practically no blowouts in this long life. And the Franklin Sedan owner has none of the temperature an- noyances and usual expenses of the average owner. The Franklin is direct air cooled, and has no water to boil or freeze. No over- heating in summer; no draining and refilling or worrying about anti-freeze mixtures in winter. This simplicity means less atten- tion, fewer repair bills, and greater economy in every way, as the actual records of Franklin owners show: 20 miles to the gallon of gasoline 12,500 miles to the set of tires 50% slower yearly depreciation The Franklin Sedan’s riding comfort and its ease and safety of control are other advantages arising from its simple principles of light weight and flexibility. Wide Observation Windows allow unobstructed outlook; two Wide Doors give easy access to a roomy interior; the Slanting V-shaped Windshield permits broadest driving vision. Together with the Sloping French-style Hood, these features make the Franklin Sedan both attractive and prac- tical. All in all, the performance of the Franklin Sedan is the definite proof that the simplest way is al- ways the best. FRANKLIN AUTOMOBILE COMPANY, SYRACUSE, N. Y.

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From Hopeless Soil (CONTINUED FROM PAGE 146) keeper and said in that clear, resonant voice of his: ““Mulligan, this boy is to have a violin. I’ll send him one and also some sheet music. And I'll have the bandmaster from the farm colony come down here and look all the boys over and see what he can find in the way of musical talent. We are short of violins up there, as several of the boys in the orchestra are to be—er—graduated within the next two months. And when the band- master gets here, I want you to tell him that I’d especially like to have him try this boy out and take an interest in him. How does that appeal to you, John?’” “Dear old father!’’ murmured Alice in a voice that was close kin to a sob. “‘ That was just like him.” ENTON went on: “Then he looked me over with critical eyes, shook his head and said with half a smile: ‘ You aren’t very strong, are you? I’ll show you a way to get stronger.’ “He laid a kind hand on my shoulder, took me to a comparatively level space, and announced cheerily: ‘I want you to level out all these hummocks and make a flat field of about a quarter of an acre. Mr. Mulligan will give you a pick and a hoe, and you will be the boy with the hoe. I'll send some soil down in a week or two, and we'll see what we can raise in the way of vege- tables out of these ashes. What do you think of the idea?’ “He smiled a little wryly at me and added: ‘T’ll admit that it looks pretty hopeless now. But we’ll try it, anyhow. And just remem- ber, young man, that I’ve got an eye on you to see what you can do. Are you with me?’ “<T'll try, sir,’ I replied in a choking voice; and I became aware that my finger nails were digging into my palms with an intensity of resolution that I never before had felt in my life. “Then he turned to several of the other boys, one by one, and questioned them as he had questioned me; for he believed that broken lives cannot be restored by dealing with them in the mass. He held to the firm conviction that a human being is a human being, and that you cannot treat a human being as if he were a number. “Alice, I worked on that quarter-acre patch as I had never worked before. It was a hard task. The ashes were mixed with all kinds of large substances, such as old mattresses, bed springs, tin cans and every other imaginable sort of rubbish. In some instances I had to dig deep, and dig long, to get the obstructions out of the way. But my will seemed to be coming back to me. I gritted my teeth and worked, and worked, and worked! ‘Sometimes my back felt as if it had been broken like a reed. Every muscle in my body ached. My lungs were bursting with the exertion. I was ready to drop pick and hoe, to throw myself on the ground, to give up the battle for good and all.” “AT SUCH times the words of the com- missioner—the Napoleon in whose Old Guard I aspired to serve—would come back to me: ‘And just remember, young man, that I’ve got my eye on you to see what youcan do. Are you with me?’ And I stag- gered forward with my task. “Two scowloads of soil were dumped on the island within the fortnight. I got my share of it. Then the seeds were distributed, potatoes, and cabbages, and onions, and turnips, and tomatoes. I was getting stronger and stronger every day. The craving that had tortured me for months was losing its grip upon me.” “And your music?” questioned Alice with wide-eyed interest at the recital. “The violin came in due time, and so did the bandmaster from the farm colony. I played ‘Ben Bolt’ for him. When I had finished he announced: ‘ Young fellow, you must have been born with it. There’s no getting out of that. How long is your term?’ “Indeterminate, sir,’ I replied. “Well, I hope you'll stay with us quite a while,’ he retorted with a look of disappoint- ment. ‘I can’t afford to lose you.’ ‘But the great impulse that was to make a man of ‘Number 92’ was yet to come. It came primarily from the quarter-acre plot. And it took your father to bring it out and drive it home. After I had planted my seeds I fairly strained my eyes for a glimpse of the first sprouting leaves. “It seemed ages of waiting before anything green appeared above the ground. At times I could hardly restrain the impulse to dig things up to see whether they were begin- ning to grow.

“At last--it was on a sunny morning in early June—I detected a thin row of greenery, like a mimic hedge, putting out of the island where I had sown the turnip seeds. I was frantic with joy. I forgot the memories of the earlier months when I was more dead than alive, forgot that I was an inmate of a city institution for the criminal and the vicious, forgot even my violin and ‘Ben Bolt.’ “Then, toward the end of July, came your father to the island on a trip of inspection. He came especially to see the gardens, which were his great hope and purpose. We boys were drawn up in front of the barracks to welcome him. A cheer broke from the line— a pean of hope from the abyss—as he landed from the ‘Correction,’ accompanied by several other men and one or two women. I heard one of the keepers speaking of them as ‘parlor penologists.’” % E WALKED slowly down the line, speaking a word here, giving a hand there, administering a rebuke at the other place, for your father was no namby-pamby reformer. He knew where to stroke and where to lash. “It was a scorching-hot day. But the presence of the commissioner was like a cooling breeze from a mountain top, the high place of his inspiring personality. So most of us forgot the heat, forgot that we were prisoners, forgot that we were derelicts and petty thieves and, worst of all, wrecks of boyhood upon whom the crystalline white powder had cast its murderous spell. “To me the moment was one of pride rather than of shame. It seemed to me that I was not an outcast, being surveyed by the head keeper of the city’s outcasts, but a soldier of the Old Guard being reviewed by Napoleon on the eve of a great victory. When your father came to me he stopped, stretched out his hand, and announced with smiling eyes: ““* John, I should never have known you, you are looking so well.’ And the pressure of his hand was the pressure of a friend’s hand rather than the perfunctory touch of an official who is performing a perfunctory ceremony. ‘How’s the violin?’ he went on. “*Tt’s fine, sir; and I’m learning all the time.’ “And how’s the garden?’ he continued heartily, in the manner of a man speaking to an equal about a matter of merely common interest. “Fine, sir. The cabbages and the pota- toes don’t seem to be doing much, but the turnips ‘ “There must have been a light in my eyes that answered the light in his; for I was very proud of those turnips, the first time in my remembered life that I had been proud of anything. “*The turnips, eh?’ he echoed cheerily. ‘Come, let’s have a look at them. Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen. I have some private business with this young man. Come on, John.’ “And I guided him to my quarter-acre plot. “¢That’s splendid !’ he fairly shouted when he saw the long, thick, fresh row of turnip leaves. ‘I never saw a better looking turnip bed in my life. You’ve done wonders. We'll be turning out a crop of turnips here that will make the rest of the institutions green withenvy. I congratulate you, young man.’”’

” "De he looked off toward the forest of high buildings in that way of his—as if he were seeing very, very far ahead—and re- mained silent for a long time, while my heart beat high with pride. Finally his hand reached out and rested lightly on my shoul- der. And, looking me straight in the eyes, he spoke to me as I never had been spoken to before. John,’ he said, talking to me as if I were his son and not an inmate and a wreck, ‘it is a wonderful thing that you have done here, a thing of which I am very proud and the city ought to be very proud. This was hope- less soil, so poor that in the beginning I had little faith that we could make anything grow out of it, not even weeds. Out of this hopeless soil you have made all this grow and flourish. This is not the work of your hands alone. It is not even chiefly the work of your hands. It is the work of your heart and of your soul. You have pitted your will against the soil, and you have conquered the soil. It took courage to do that; it took determination and faith and persistence to do it. Don’t you think so?’ “Ves, sir,’ I replied. CONTINUED ON PAGE 150

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in id 1S of id. of 1¢ ir ys LO ie m ,’ id. id April, 1920 HOME JOURNAL 149 SS = = = = = T= = = E- I- The Hoosier Sugar Bin The Hoosier metal sugar bin especially illustrates the care with which the Hoosier is planned. It is the only bin from which it is equally convenient to scoop sugar from the top or draw it from the spout at the bottom. The sugar comes in contact only with the clean triple-plated metal. The bin is easily removed for cleaning. senna ineiehienieees eee YE SEY W al j i | j Ry Geen A EP > meres srsct VN Nearly Two Million Women Use This Great Labor-Saver Scientific management has gotten into the American Kitchen through the big, easy-rolling doors of the Hoosier Kitchen Cabinet. Today, nearly two million American housewives are keeping young and cheerful and happy through the kindly ministration of the Hoosier— —the silent servant with a hundred hands! Built into the Hoosier you will find every practical kitchen cabinet improve- ment—we have either proved or dis- proved them all. There is no time so Every Day No matter how distinctive and personal . your kitchen—the Hoosier will fit into it and add to its convenience. Go to your authorized dealer’s store and sit in front of this great labor-saver. See how carefully every detail about.it has been thought out. See how each labor- Saving feature will help you organize and maintain a smooth-running kitchen. If you do not know who your Hoosier dealer is, write us—and, while we are about it, we will send you ““New Kitchen Short Cuts”—a book you will enjoy reading. good as TODAY THE HOOSIER MANUFACTURING COMPANY Main Office: 420 Jackson St., Newcastle, Indiana Branch Office: Mezzanine Floor, Pacific Building, San Francisco, Calif. Branch Office: 368 Portage Ave., Winnipeg, Man., Can. iy iy Ml ) | NY tI - a _THE SILENT SERVANT WITH A HUNDRED HANDS Copyright 1920, The H. M. Co.

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Trimmed with lue hemstitching, shir- ting in front, with ribbon bow at neck. Matches “DOVE” one-piece Pa- jama No. 619 also illus- trated here. We cannot fill mail orders but can tell you the nearest store that sells these and other new “DOVE?”’ styles. Under- garments Styles that charm you with their good taste, materials and trimmings that delight you with their fine quality and unusual durability—all these play their parts in the satisfaction which is assured you by the “DOVE” label in the under-garments you buy. There’s a Store Near You that Sells “DOVE” Under - garments D. E. SICHER & CO., “World’s Largest Makers of Lingene” 45-51 West 21st Street, NEW YORK “DOVE ' Porto Rican Lingerie—Hand-made in Porto Rico Pape ory Snes cottons Hngerie-+-the sacs Trimmed with beautiful designs ible. by Seams, hems, scalloping caleaby glued Some have fine Calado hand-drawn work. hand needlework —in Porto Rico, JOURNAL April, 1920 From Hopeless Soil (CONTINUED FROM PAGE 148) “Now then’; he went on, ‘there’s a very much larger field than this quarter-acre lot— over there’—and he pointed to the city buildings across the tremulous heat over the river. ‘And there’s a very much deeper soil right within you. You have made useful things grow out of this pitiably poor soil. You can make useful things—and beautiful things—grow out of the very much richer soil within you, your heart, your mind, your soul.’ “He paused, his kind gray eyes resting upon me with a strange gaze as if he were looking inward and not outward, and then proceeded: ‘You will be discharged very soon. When you go back there, I want you to remember what you have done here. And I want you to keep up the battle against yourself which you have begun so well here. It is a battle well worth fighting, because I believe you have a lot in you. I have spoken about you to a friend of mine who is conductor of a big orchestra in the city. He is willing to give you a job helping around his country place up in West Chester, and to see what you are good for in music. You will have an excellent opportunity. But you will fail completely unless you keep away entirely from the stuff that almost put you under the sod last winter. If you will promise me to keep away from it, I am sure you will keep your promise. Will you give me your word?’ “T tried to speak, but there seemed to be a hand gripping me by the throat. I looked into his face through blurred eyes, nodded and broke down, sobbing. ““T understand,’ he said in a low voice. ‘You'll keep your word.’ “ And I walked back to the inspection line with a light step and a heart that burned.” LICE HILTON gazed at him in silence, her lips pressed together, her hands twitching as she held them folded on her knees. The story which this man risen out of the abyss was telling her seemed like a memorial service to her father. “Two months later,” resumed John Fen- ton, “I was discharged on a suspended sen- tence at the commissioner’s request. The conductor of the Symphonic Association gave me the position which your father had prom- ised. He gave me my opportunity. The rest you know. I saw your father twice after I left the island. He was a very busy man. Once I went to his office of my own accord to thank him. The next time he sent for me. He asked me how I was getting along. I told him—which was the exact truth—that he had made a man of me. “On another occasion I tried to see him. It was toward the end of his last illness. When I read in the newspapers that he was seriously ill, I went to your house in Gra- mercy Park and sent my card in. Theservant told me the doctor would not allow him to see anybody. “But, as his illness grew graver, I felt irresistibly drawn to your house. Night after night I stood on the sidewalk by the hour, waiting for the doctor to come out after his last visit before morning. Once or twice as he came out, I asked him how his patient was. He gave me little hope. “One night—you will remember that it was a bitterly cold night in January—several men arrived in automobiles about midnight, and the house was brilliantly lighted. I could see the outlines of figures crossing be- fore the windows, as if something unusual were going on. Then, soon after the clock in the Metropolitan tower had flashed the hour of one, all the lights went out almost simultaneously, and only a feeble glow re- mained in the windows of the room in which, I judged, your father lay.” “COON the door opened and the men whom I had seen going into the house came out and were driven away in their motor cars. A little later issued a man in a fur overcoat whom I recognized as the regular physician. I crossed over while he was get- ting into his motor and asked him with a sink- ing heart: ‘How’s your patient, doctor?’ “What right have you to ask?’ he re- torted rather impatiently. ““No right,’ I answered, ‘except that I owe everything—my very life—to him when he was commissioner of correction,’ I added. “Oh, I see,’ he responded, with a manner that conveyed regret at his previous brusque- ness. ‘Your benefactor died fifteen minutes ago. Yoursense of gratitude does you credit.’ And he swung the door of the limousine shut.” John Fenton arose, went to the bookcase in the alcove, switched on the light, found William Hilton’s book, “Reconstructing Broken Lives,” returned with it to Alice, turned the leaves to page 161, and handed the open volume to her. “Alice,” he resumed, “I have told you all these things to-night, on your night of nights, in the first place, because you asked me to tell you what was on my mind. But I should have had to tell you in any event, because I felt that I could not keep you in ignorance of this black page of my past. What I have not told you you will find in the record of Number 92, written by your father. If you will read it you will get a full measure of the depth to which I had sunk, and realize the true magnitude of what your father did for me.” f. yee closed the book, laid it on the floor beside her and said in an even voice: “You have told me all that is necessary.” “But I want you to know everything, and know it as your father saw it,’’ he insisted with a drawn face. She shook her head slowly. “I already know everything as father saw it.” “You mean di “T mean that father told me about you a few months before he died, told me your name and pointed out your record in his book.” John Fenton’s face flushed; he gazed at her with set lips for a long interval of silence and then asked, with a note of anger in his voice: “Then, is it permitted me to ask why you saw fit to subject me to the humiliation of this recital? If you have known of the ter- rible tragedy of my life during the four years you have known me da He was interrupted by her curiously calm voice, the voice of a woman who is speaking of commonplace things: ‘Please sit down, John.” He resumed his seat with a depressing sense that his confession had built up an insuperable barrier between them; that she had mocked him and made sport of his deepest feelings. He heard her resume, as if she were speak- ing from a great distance: ‘You told me a while ago that I had sung like a woman who had reached the heights and sounded the depths of life.” “And I meant it, Alice.” A new expression came into her face, an expression of tenderness and deep feeling. He was astonished at the rapid change in her mood. He noted, with an inward pang at an impending loss, the warm glow that over- spread her features, noted her long eyelashes, the soft lines of her shoulders, her splendid throat, upon which rested her classic head, high-piled with bronze-colored hair. She went on: “I already have reached the heights and sounded the depths of life.’’ “T don’t understand. Do you mean — He could not finish his phrase. His throat went dry. A cold mist of doubt, liquefying into fear, seemed to envelope his being at the thought that she had lived her life, that there was a god enshrined in the temple of her being, while he knelt at the outer portal. + HE resumed, in that calm, rich voice that sounded like low organ notes, muted: “T mean that I have hoped—and feared- for you.” “For me?” He sat bolt upright, his heart beating violently. “Ever since I met you on that summer’s day in the Adirondacks four years ago.” “You mean you were afraid that I might relapse?”’ he gasped, in the grip of a great emotion. “No,” she replied; ‘I never had the slightest misgiving on that score. I knew you too well. I felt too keenly the great strength in you for that.” “Then, why did you—fear for me?” “‘There were times when I doubted whether you would have the supreme courage to tell me what you have told me to-night,’ she replied, and a sob shook her. She put her hands to her face and murmured brokenly: “The hope that you would live up to your strength was the height of life that I reached. It was the high place in which I have lived since I met you. And the fear that you would not have the courage was the depth that I have sounded. Can you understand?” He arose with an impulse of reverence and stood mute and overwhelmed by the height and the depth of her, gazing in breathless wonder at her loveliness in the half-light o! the dying fire. Then he knelt before her, placed his forehead upon her knee and the pent-up emotion of his life shook him as the wind shakes an aspen in an autumn forest. And she placed both her hands upon his head in a gesture of benediction.

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ice, Jed all its, - to uld use nce ave | of you - of lize did oor ice: ind ted ua our his | at nce his you 1 of ter- ‘ars alm ing wn, ‘ing an she his ak- le a vho the an ing. her r at ver- hes, did ad, the ‘oat ring the 1ere her hat ted: d- art HOME JOURNAL 151 Hamilton Beach Carpet Washer Wash Carpets Right on the Floor and dry them — with this astounding new invention NOW-an absolutely new way to have clean floor coverings! Rugs and carpets not merely surface-cleaned, but cleaned through- and-through! with this amazing device that brings out all the original exquisite design and rich color, that brings back the charm and freshness that first delighted you, that completely renews the life of rugs and car- pets that used to be discarded. The careful daily use of a vacuum sweeper is not enough. Because floor coverings be- come stained and dirty through shoe-contact that permeates them with street smut and grease. Vivid colorings and blacks are alike reduced to dingy, ashy greys. As you know, having carpets washed is not a new idea. But the Hamilton Beach Carpet Washer is a newer, better method, which no present cleaning establishment can approach. It cleans rugs clean. Washes and dries them right on the floor. With an action just like the human hand, two sponge-rubber brushes rotated electrically 500 times a minute, scrub the H-B compound deep down into the fibres of the rug. Mud and dirt and grime are instantly dissolved, and suctioned back into the receiver-pan. In front of the Carpet Washer is dirty car- pet, dull design, drab color. Behind it, as it moves forward, gorgeous colors spring to life, the original delicate traceries reappear, the entire rug glows irresistibly new and re- freshened, so lustrous, soft, and taintless !— clean smelling, bright as a new penny! And in twenty minutes, these immaculate rugs, with their cleanness convincingly apparent, are ready for immediate service. For this reason, homes, fine clubs and great hotels, accustomed to sending their carpetings to be laundered, will want them washed the Hamilton Beach way. Rugs used to be rolled up, carpets torn from the floors, and for two weeks rooms were bare, cheerless, and uninhabitable, while rugs were at the cleaners’. But now—all this dis- comfort!—all this hardship!—and_ the greater part of the expense of this proceed- ing is entirely unnecessary ! A Permanent Business with a Big Income Here is an opportunity for wives to help their husbands and sons have a business of their own and financial independence. With the Hamilton Beach Carpet Washer only 30 minutes is needed to clean a 9 x 12 rug, which at only 3c a square foot pays $3.24, or better than $6.00 an hour. In all the large cities the cleaning establishments charge from 8c to 10c a square foot for clean- ing Orientals and at these prices the machine would earn an immense income. And the Hamilton Beach Carpet Washer, that en- ables him to get into this well-paying busi- ness with its amazing profits, costs only $285.00. The Carpet Washer is so simple in oper- ation that women, too, should seize this business opportunity. Get the full facts! Send for proof of profits and learn all about this quick, easy, big money-maker. Check the coupon below and send it today. Hamilton Beach Carpet Washer Co. ~ ., - - . ae . ; ns me ~ - ae ‘ ' rae = en ‘a bdo an ee a Send this coupon for complete information 114 Liberty Street, New York City CHECK PROPER SQUARE AND MAIL THIS COUPON TODAY HAMILTON BEACH CARPET WASHER CO., 114 Liberty St., New York City. Without obligation, send me complete information, as checked: © I want to have my carpets washed. O Further information for clubs and hotels. O For establishing a rug-cleaning business. WRITE YOUR NAME AND ADDRESS IN THE MARGIN BELOW J.A

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hionette [avisible HAIR NETS ' “Whenever I see a busy woman with a charmingly smart coiffure, | | feel certain she wears Fashionettes—it’s the one sure way to keep your hair trim and becoming all day long under any circumstances.” ' The usual colors and shapes are 20c each, 3 for soc, $1.80 a dozen— white or grey, | ' | H | H | | | 3sc each, 3 for $1.00, $3.60 a dozen. Buy them by the dozen for economy's sake Lady Dainty SnHeut Harr Ping “T can always find exactly the size and style I want in Lady Dainty pins. Their long even points are smoothly finished by hand so they never pull your hair and—best of all—Lady Dainty Shell Hair Pins are practically unbreakable.” Shell, amber, and grey —allshapes and sizes— 2 6c a box at good stores every where. Send for Colonial Quality Booklet Gloma Samstags CO 1200 Broadway ——— ip f “ci ie LES NY = Ty = With her hands in his, feet reluctant to stop, the girl’s face lifted toward him, for the first time her eyes looking straight up to his, and deeply—an expression in them shy, baffling, heartbreakingly sweet—Mac held his position for a moment, bent his head, and pressed his lips against her mouth. In the second’s hush and the faint half- whisper of delight that swept over jaded diners, the words of Jimmy Weeks went crazily through Mac’s head: ‘‘Something new. . . . Losing its punch.” Something new! Well, if it meant enter- taining them with a man’s broken heart! It was what the tableau of the dance led them to expect, and they never got. The challenge of Mac’s newness and vividness had an ap- peal of its own; they took two encores. But nobody could fool Mac; Veva’s eyes were almost black; her lips had lost their treach- erous curve. T A QUARTER to one Veva faced Mac McGregor across the room Jimmy Weeks sometimes used for an office. ‘‘ You spoiled everything,” she said unevenly. “ Ivery- thing! You did that deliberately.” ‘‘Would it make any difference to you,” asked Mac in a tired, what’s-the-use kind of a voice, ‘if I didn’t do it deliberately?” With a swift, startled look, her eyes, hurt, bewildered, searched his face for a minute. Mac was not looking at her. Not answering him, she left the room quickly on her way to the locker room to change the butterfly frock for her street dress. When Jimmy Weeks came in Mac was sit- ting on the desk, inspecting his finger nails critically. “Mac,” said Jimmy, “you’ve created something exciting. Iver see anything like the way those old jazzers ate up that stunt of yours? I ought to give you ten dollars for that, but I haven’t got the ten, Mac. Why didn’t you tell me you could kick a fantastic foot? Is there anything you can’t do? Want to sign a contract?” “No,” said Mac; “I want to quit.” Jimmy elevated talkative eyebrows. “Want to quit the Yellow Moon? Mac, you don’t mean it!” “T do. I’ve concluded I can’t hold two jobs at once. I'll stick to the one that will get me the farthest.” “Right, perfectly right. If you’re going to quit one quit the Yellow Moon. Want your check?” “Please.” Jimmy wrote a check for him and watched him go out the door. ‘Something is up be- sides prices,” he said wistfully to himself. “Isn’t there anything in the world besides chasing rainbows?” WO days later he went in to see Mac at the publishing house. His visit was cas- ual, Jimmy often dropped in that way. Mac was sitting at the window, idle typewriter at his elbow. “What you doing?” Jimmy asked. ““Nothing;”’ he needn’t have told. At the same rate he would never do anything either, thought Jimmy; inspiration was burned out of Mac’s eyes, and Jimmy had noticed it. ‘“‘How’s everybody?” Mac wanted to know. “Worse. If it isn’t one of you youngsters it’s the other. I’m going to get mad some day and hire a bunch of Bohemians, or some old pioneers that don’t know the meaning of temperament!” Mac grinned heartlessly. ‘‘What’s wrong now?” “It’s Veva; came to rehearse with the new pianist, took about three steps and be- gan tocry. Declared she couldn’t dance with that fellow at the piano, cried like her heart would break and wouldn’t be comforted even by Teddy. Teddy’s been rushing her pretty fast lately,” he added thoughtfully. “Carrying a big diamond round till she takes the right kind of a notion to wear it.” “Ts that so?” asked Mac disinterestedly, trying to mask his face. Jimmy Weeks eyed him. “ Mac,” he said, “‘she doesn’t know what she wants.’”’ Mac avoided his look, turning his own to the street. ‘You went at it wrong,’ went on Jimmy. ‘You can’t expect a girl to stand and wait dutifully until you get ready to tell her, and then fall obediently into your arms the minute you hold ’em out, not a girl like ing Dust (CONTINUED FROM PAGE 15) Veva; she’s not made that way. Some girls do, and some girls don’t; she don’t. The summer’s going, kid, and tears mean some- thing, always; as I said before she doesn’t know what she wants. Teddy ni Mac turned from the window; his eyes were very bright. ‘“‘Jimmy, give me the afternoon off.”’ “All right. Get out, quick!” Happily Mac put on his cap and got out. Stopping at a corner drug store, he called her apartment and, with a humility he was not far from really feeling, asked if he might come up. She answered him a little strangely but with “ yes.” When he entered the living room of her tiny flat, after her quiet call to him to “‘come in,” and flung his cap lightly upon a table, she was standing by the windows, beautiful and slim and sweet in a suit of white satin. Mac crossed the room and stood beside her; she was tremulous, her eyes held a far look, uncertain, bewildered, sad, as if foreshad owing. ATH ofambersunlight across thestretches of hot city roofs, broken here and there by an emerald square of park, its brooding ten- derness softening a sky at the horizon like burnished brass. Beyond it all a veil of wist- ful, slate-purple haze, already deepening on the happy hills, among which the river shim- mered faintly. Brown birds skimming south, and the woods orange and scarlet. Indian summer! And when she was tired Teddy in the rose glow of a fireplace, some- where in the heart of Gotham, his cap flung upon a polished table—Teddy, with the heart of a matinée idol? The girl’s hands lay like flowers on the window-sill. Mac took them, caressing them within his own. She turned to look at him. When she saw his face, her eyes filled with tears. “T love you, butterfly,” whispered Mac. “T love you. I’ve been so jealous. Am Ia fool? And are you angry, because I ——” ‘“Mac’’—her gray eyes were pleading and her voice caught a bit—‘‘please don’t ask me to—promise anything.” It stirred a troop of longing echoes somewhere, sweeping across his heart. ‘‘Everything’s over so soon, Mac—when you promise things. You played with Louise before you met me; and after, some; and I thought you were going to always. Didn’t I have a right to play with Teddy? I’m like that; I have to play; I can’t promise things. I'll try hard to love you as much as you need—oh, it won’t be such an effort! But I’m a butterfly—that’s all. I didn’t know what I wanted. I—oh, Mac!” The lute-voice tripped, fell, and hurt itself. Mac’s arms went around her, holding her close, her head upon his heart; and he laid his cheek against her hair that was like the gold of a butterfly’s wing. Little winds sprang up, nodding, and beck oned them, out across the roofs. She rested against him like a tired blossom, hiding her face. His arms! The exquisite haven of them! At last she knew what it was for which the world was made, and whither every star street led. His arms—and trust- ing him always—always! That was forever; not long, but infinitely sweet. “You’re just as I’d have you, always,” whispered Mac. “A butterfly, with a heart like everyone else.” After a little she lifted her face to him. , WEEK or so later Jimmy Weeks again “dropped round”’ to see Mac. He was playingsomething from a written score, some- thing rapturous and very sweet. “What are you doing?” asked Jimmy, sliding down in an easy chair. “Sh! Don’t wake me up, I’m composing the most popular sympathetic song hit of the season.”’ Mac’s dancing fingers hushed ten- derly upon the keys, and Jimmy Weeks lis- tened with all his heart. His eyes lit; he looked at Mac queerly. Mac played it again. “T knew it,” said Jimmy Weeks. “I be- lieve you’ve got it. It’s good.” Then, after a second: ‘What are you calling it?” Mac flushed, then came out with it, his sparkling eyes meeting Jimmy’s twinkling ones. ‘The Heart of a Butterfly,” he said. “A peculiar title,” mused Jimmy softly, affectionately. ‘Did you just discover it?” Scarlet Geraniums: By Ruth Mason Rice OU always seem so festive, in your dash- ing little way, As though you’d come to town to make a smashing holiday; For there’s a tang about your scent, a bril- liance in your look, That makes me feel a window box is better than a book.

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- We lek ~~ See we Se ee ee Apeil, 1920 HOME JOURNAL on

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Nature has been generous indeed with SUNSWEET Prunes. She has made them a fruit-food beyond compare—a health-food essential to your daily fare. For they contain more digestible natural fruit sugar than any other fruit. They are rich in tonic iron. q And not only are they tasteful and nutritious, but ; aut they help to balance the entire diet. Says an acknowledged authority on nutrition: “In using dried fruit [such as SUNSWEET Prunes] we obtain not only the nutritive value of the fruit sugar, but whatever other hygienic or medicinal value they may have by virtue of the salts and organic acids found in them. The craving for sweets, exhibited in Sine ee most children and many adults, is a natural de- Be eee mand on the part of the system for a needed food.” al >, ] ie Fe f ¥ ore on TY ET RP * sens 4 ¢ , aa é Me *. ae pe ao AES x f Fig Q me Skgas® HEALTH {or you ~ {rom the lap of NATURE ed CALIFORNIA PRUNE AND APRICOT GROWERS INC. or 114 Market Street, San Jose, California Serge S a Oe oe California’ asN ature That’s why we say: eat SUNSWEET Prunes every day—not only because they are the finest prunes Cali- fornia can produce—but for the healthful good that’s in them! Ask your grocer for these top-quality prunes in the 5 lb. sanitary carton; and, if he is not yet supplied, see that the prunes he does sell you are taken from the 25 lb. box of SUNSWEET Prunes car- ried by grocers everywhere. Also—send for our Recipe Packet which shows many new and delicious ways to serve this fine fruit- food. Each recipe has been tested from the stand- point of the housewife—each is sure to work out. The recipes are printed on gummed slips (5x3")sothey can be pasted in your cook book or on recipe filing cards. This Recipe Packet is free—send for it today! A cooperative growing, packing and marketing association embracing more than 7,500 growers engaged in this industry in California

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BM ah z : * i a April, 1920 THE HOME J OURNAL 155 A Poor Wise Man (CONTINUED FROM PAGE 13) “Hole? What do you mean by hole?” Elinor shrank back a little. “She said a hole,” she affirmed diffidently. ‘She says they dug a tunnel and got out—last night.” “Very probably,” said Anthony Cardew. And he repeated thoughtfully: ‘Very prob- ably.” He did not hear Elinor when she quietly pushed back her chair and said “Good night.”” He was sitting at the table, tapping on the cloth with finger tips that were slightly cold. That evening Anthony Cardew had a visit from the police, and considerable fiery talk took place in his library. As a result there was a shake-up in city politics and a change in the penitentiary management, for Anthony Cardew had a heavy hand and a bitter memory. For three months he was followed, wherever he went, by detectives, and his house was watched at night. But he was a brave man and the espionage grew hateful. Besides, each day added to his sense of security. There came a time when he im- patiently dismissed the police and took up life again as before. HE evening of the first day of freedom came a young man, badly dressed, with blue eyes sunken in a white face. Grayson admitted him. Anthony Cardew, who by that time was running the city, had some- times strange visitors. “What name, sir?” asked Grayson. “George Dyer.” There was a city councilman of that name, but Grayson had never seen him. He took the name in to Anthony and came out. “ Mr. Cardew will see you, sir,” he said and offered to take the visitor’s hat. But the white-faced young man held on to it. Grayson admitted him to the library and closed the door. Had he been less well- trained, had he so much as glanced at Car- dew, he would have seen for the first time the fear of death in his master’s eyes as they took in the figure inside the door. “T wouldn’t call out, Mr. Cardew,” said a cold voice. ‘I have my left hand on a re- volver in my pocket. The same revolver that i There was a long bell cord ending in a tassel near the chimney piece, and Anthony Cardew’s eyes turned to that. “T wouldn’t,” said the young man. “ Any- how, I don’t mean to kill you. If I had meant to, I’d have done it that other time. There are worse things than killing. Sit down.” Anthony Cardew sat down. He was trembling, but he feared nothing except death. That threat removed “That holds good,” said young Doyle, “just as long as you keep your mouth shut about my coming here. They won’t get me again alive. And they won’t get me anyhow. You don’t know it, but there’s strong senti- ment in this town that we did an incomplete job that time we—you know.” Anthony Cardew said nothing. “There are three of us,” said James Doyle. “If you put me back in that hell spot the others will get you and get you right. We’ve agreed on that.” ~ “All right,” said Anthony dryly. “Is that what you came to say?” “Not all.” Jim Doyle’s voice grew husky. “You got him, and when he was dying he cursed you. Maybe you think Providence is on your side. It may be. That’s why I’m taking no chances. I’m going to carry out his last wishes.” His voice hardened. “I don’t think I’m the Lord God Almighty, but I’m going to see that that curse works.” Then he had gone away and left Anthony Cardew with a strange feeling of a doom pro- nounced. Worse things than death? He rea- soned himself into calmness, however. What was worse than death? Nothing could touch him. He had fought all his life. He could fight anything except perhaps death. Worse than death? Bah! DevLe was not recaptured. Anthony had _iron gratings put on the lower window, of his house after that, and he hired a specia watchman. But nothing happened, and in time he began to forget. He was building the new furnaces up the river by that time. The era of structural steel for tall buildings was beginning, and he bought the rights of a Process for making cement out of his furnace slag. He was achieving great wealth, al- though he did not change his scale of living. Now and then Fraulein braved the terrors of the library with small, neatly written lists in her hands. Miss Elinor needed this or that. He would check up the lists, sign his name to them, and Elinor and Fraulein would have a shopping excursion. He never gave Elinor money. On one of the lists one day he found the word, added in Elinor’s hand, “Horse.” “Horse?” he said, scowling up at Friu- lein. ‘There are six horses in the stable now.” “Miss Elinor thought—a riding horse ——” “Nonsense !’’ Then he thought a moment. There came back to him a picture of those English gentlewomen from among whom he had selected his wife, quiet-voiced, hard- riding, high-colored girls, who could hunt all day-and dance all night. Elinor was a pale little thing. Besides, every gentlewoman should ride. “She can’t ride around here.” “Miss Elinor thought—there are bridle paths near the riding academy.” T WAS odd, but at that moment Anthony Cardew had an odd sort of vision: He saw the little grocer lying stark and huddled among the phlox by the stable, and the group of men that stooped over him. “Tl think about it,’ was his answer. But within a few days Elinor was the owner of a quiet mare, stabled at the acad-: emy, and rode each day in the tan-bark ring between its whitewashed fences, while a mechanical piano gave an air of festiv- ity to what was otherwise rather a solemn business. Within a week of that time the riding academy had a new instructor, a tall, thin young man, looking older than he was, with heavy, dark hair and a manner of repressed insolence—a man, the grooms said among themselves, of furious temper and cold eyes. And in less than four months Elinor Car- dew ran away from home and was married to Jim Doyle. Anthony received two letters from a distant city, a long, ecstatic but ter- rified one from his daughter, and one line on a slip of paper from her husband. The one line read: “This is the beginning.” Anthony made a new will, leaving Howard everything, and had Elinor’s rooms closed. Now and then he heard indirectly from Doyle. He taught in a boys’ school for a time and was dismissed for his radical views. He did brilliant editorial work on a Chicago newspaper, but now and then he intruded his slant-eyed personal view and in the end he lost his position. Then he joined the So- cialist Party and made speeches containing radical statements that made the police of various cities watchful. But he kept within the letter of the law. OWARD CARDEW married when Elinor had gone less than a year— married the daughter of a small hotel keeper in his college town, a pretty, soft-voiced girl, intelligent and gentle—and because Howard was all old Anthony had left, he took her into his home. He had one hope—that Howard’s child would be a son to carry on the line. Perhaps the happiest months of Grace Car- dew’s married life were those before Lily was born, when her delicate health was safe- guarded in every way by her grim father-in- law. But it was a girl child and Grace very nearly died. Anthony Cardew would never have a grandson. He was deeply resentful. The proud fabric of his own weaving would descend in the fullness of time to a woman. And Howard himself—old Anthony was pitilessly clear in his judgments—Howard was not a strong man—a good man, a good son, better than he deserved, but amiable, kindly, without force. Once the cloud had lifted and only once. Elinor had come home to have a child. She came at night, a shabby, worn young woman with great eyes in a chalk-white face, and Grayson had not recognized her at first. He let her go into the library and stood outside the door, his usually impassive face working during the interview which followed. Proba- bly that was Grayson’s big hour, for, if An- thony turned her out he intended to go in himself and fight for the woman he had petted as a child. But Anthony had not turned her out. He took one comprehensive glance at her thin face and distorted figure. Then he said: “‘So this is the way you come back.” “He drove me out,” she said dully. “He sent me here. He knew I had no place else to go. He knew you wouldn’t want me. It’s revenge, I suppose. I’m so tired, father.” Yes, it was revenge, surely, to send back to him this soiled and broken woman. Dur- ing the next hour Anthony Cardew suffered and made Elinor suffer too. But at the end of that time he found himself confronting a curious situation. Elinor, ashamed, humbled, was not contrite. It began to dawn on Anthony that Jim Doyle’s revenge was not finished, for Elinor loved the man. She both hated him and loved him. Anthony sent for Grace finally, and Elinor was established in the house. Grace and little Lily’s governess had themselves bathed her and put her to bed, and mademoiselle had smuggled out of the house the garments Elinor had worn into it. Grace had gone in the motor—one of the first in the city—and had sent back all sorts of lovely garments for Elinor to wear and quantities of fine mate- rials to be made into tiny garments. Grace was a practical woman, and she dis- liked the brooding look in Elinor’s eyes. “Do you know,” she said to Howard that night, “I believe she is quite mad about him still.” “He ought to be drawn and quartered,” said Howard savagely. NTHONY CARDEW gave Elinor sanc- tuary, but he refused to see her again— except once. “Then, if it isa boy, you want me to leave him with you?” she asked, bend- ing over her sewing. «Leave him with me! Do you mean that you intend to go back to that blackguard?” “He is my husband. He isn’t always cruel.” ‘Good heaven!” shouted Anthony. “How did I ever happen to have such a craven creature for a daughter?” “Anyhow,” said Elinor, “it will be his child, father.” “When he turned you out!” bellowed old Anthony. “He never cared for you. He married you to revenge himself on me. He sent you back here for the same reason. He’ll take your child, and break its spirit and ruin its body, for the same reason. The man’s a maniac.” But again, as on the night she came, he found himself helpless against Elinor’s quiet impassivity. To Howard he stormed; Elinor was not a Cardew; the Cardew women had some pride. Howard, his handsome figure draped neg- ligently against the library mantel, would puz@e over it too. “I’m blessed if I under- stand it!’’ he would say. Elinor’s child had been a boy, and old Anthony found some balm in Gilead. He took steps to give the child the Cardew name, and the fact was announced in the newspapers. Then one day Elinor went out and did not come back. It was something Anthony Cardew had not counted on: that a woman could love a man more than her child. Invthe letter that came from her she wrote: I simply had to do it, father. You won’t understand, of course. I love him, father— terribly. And he loves me in his way. Perhaps if you had wanted me at home it would have been different. It nearly kills me to leave the baby. The only reason I can bring myself to do it is that, the way things are, I cannot give him the things he ought to have. And Jim does not seem to want him. He has never seen him, for one thing. Besides—I am being honest—I don’t think the atmosphere of the way we live would be good for a boy. There was a letter to Grace, too, a wild, hysterical document filled with instructions for the baby’s care. Grace read it with tears in her eyes. Anthony never forgave Elinor, and once more the little grocer’s curse thwarted his ambitions. For, deprived of his mother, the baby died. Old Anthony sometimes won- dered if that, too, had been calculated, a part of the Doyle revenge. IV HILE Grace rested on the afternoon of Lily’s return from camp, Lily ranged over the house. In twenty-odd years the neighborhood had changed and only a hand- ful of the old families remained. Most of the other big houses were prostituted to base uses. Dingy curtains hung at their windows, dingy because of the smoke from the great furnaces and railtoads. The old Osgood house near by had been turned into apart- ments, with bottles of milk and paper bags on its fire escape and a pharmacy on the street floor. The penitentiary had been moved outside the city limits, and near its old site was a small, cement-lined lake, the cheerful rendezvous in summer of bathing children and thirsty dogs. Lily wandered about, even penetrating to those upper rooms sacred to her grandfather, CONTINUED ON PAGE 156 ET the children learn to bake! It’s lots of fun and they take such pride in their work! The recipes in the - Ryzon Baking Book are so clearly and simply written that even the children can follow them. Mother need not fear the waste of good materials if the children use Ryzon, according to Ryzon directions. Ryzon is packed in full 16 ounce pounds —also 25c and 15c packages. The new Ryzon Baking Book (original price $1.00), containing 250 practical recipes, will be mailed, postpaid, upon receipt of 30c in stamps or coin, except in Canada. GENERALCHEMICALCO. FOOD DEPARTMENT NEW YORK

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A Poor Wise Man (CONTINUED FROM PAGE 155) to which he had retired on Howard’s mar- riage. How strangely commonplace they were now in the full light of day; and yet, when he was in them, the doors closed and only Burton, his valet, in attendance, how mysterious they became! NCREASINGLY, in later years, Lily had felt and resented the domination of the old man. Sheresented her father’sacquiescencein that domination, her mother’s good-humored tolerance of it. She herself had accepted it, although unwillingly; but she knew, rather vaguely, that the Lily Cardew who had gone away to the camp and the Lily Cardew who stood before her grandfather’s thronelike chair under its lamp were two entirely differ- ent people. She was uneasy rather than defiant. She meant to keep the peace. She had been brought up to the theory that no price was too great to-pay for peace. But she won- dered, as she stood there, if that were en- tirely true. She remembered something Willy Cameron had said about that very thing. “What’s wrong with your grandfather,” he had said truculently, nursing his pipe, “is that everybody gets down and lets him walk on them. If everybody lets a man use them as doormats, you can’t blame him for wiping his feet on them. Tell him that sometime and see what happens.” “Tell him yourself!” said Lily. He had smiled cheerfully; he had an en- gaging sort of smile. “‘ Maybe I will,”’ he said. “T am a rising young man, and my voice may some day be heard in the land. Some- times I feel the elements of greatness in me, sweet child. You haven’t happened to notice it yourself, have you?” He had gazed at her with solemn anxiety through the smoke of his pipe and had grinned when she remained silent. Lily drew a long breath. All that delight- ful fooling was over; the hard work was over. The nights were gone when they would wander like children across the parade grounds or past the bayonet school, with its row of tripods upholding imitation enemies made of sacks stuffed with hay and showing signs of mortal injury with their grassy en- trails protruding. Gone, too, were the hours when Willy sank into the lowest abyss of de- pression over his failure to be a fighting man. “But you are doing your best for your country,” she would say. “T’m not fighting for it or getting smashed up for it. I don’t want to be a hero, but I’'d like to have had one good bang at them be- fore I quit.” Once she had found him in the hut, with his head on a table. He said he had a tooth- ache, Well, that was all over. She was back in her grandfather’s house, and “He'll get me, too, probably,” she re- flected as she went down the stairs, “just as he’s got all the others.”

ADEMOISELLE was in Lily’s small sitting room, while Castle was unpack- ing under her supervision. The sight of her uniforms made Lily suddenly restless. “How you could wear these things!” cried mademoiselle. ‘You who have always dressed like a princess!” “T liked them,” said Lily briefly. ‘“ Made- moiselle, what am I going to do with mysclf now?” “Do?” Mademoiselle smiled. ‘Play, as you deserve, chérie. Dance, and meet nice young men. You are to make your début this fall. Then a very charming young man—and marriage.” “Oh!” said Lily rather blankly. “I’ve got to come out, have I? I’d forgotten people did such things. Please run along and do something else, Castle. I’ll unpack.” “That is very bad for discipline,’ made- moiselle objected when the maid had gone. “And it is not necessary for Mr. Anthony Cardew’s granddaughter.” “Tt’s awfully necessary for her,” Lily ob- served cheerfully. “I’ve been buttoning my own shoes for some time, and I haven’t developed a spinal curvature yet.” She kissed mademoiselle’s perplexed face lightly. “Don’t get to worrying about me,” she added. “I'll shake down in time and be just as useless as ever. But I wish you’d lend me your sewing basket.” “Why?” asked mademoiselle suspiciously. “Because I am possessed with a mad de- sire to sew some buttons on.” Some little time later Lily looked up from her rather awkward but industrious labors with a needle and fixed her keen young eyes on mademoiselle. “Is there any news about Aunt Elinor?” she asked. “She is with him,” said mademoiselle shortly. ‘They are here now, in the city. How he dared to come back!” “Does mother see her?” “No. Certainly not.” “Why ‘certainly’ not? He is her husband. She isn’t doing anything wicked.” ““A woman who would leave a home like this,” said mademoiselle, “and a distin- guished family—position, wealth—for a brute who beats her. And desert her child also!” “Does he really beat her? I don’t quite believe that, mademoiselle. I am quite sure I would bite a man who struck me, but— suppose I loved him terribly ” Her voice trailed off. ‘“‘You see, dear, I have secn a lot of brutality lately. An army camp isn’t a Sunday-school picnic. And I like strong men, even if they are brutal some- times.” Mademoiselle carefully cut a_ thread. “This—you were speaking to Ellen of a young man—is he—what you call brutal?”

UDDENLY Lily laughed. “You poor dear!” she said. ‘‘And mother, too, of course! You’re afraid I’m in love with Willy Cameron. Don’t you know that if I were I’d probably never even mention his name?” . But is he brutal?” persisted mademoi- selle. “Tl tell you about him. He is a thin, blond young man, tall and a bit lame. He has curly hair, and he puts pomade on it to take the curl out. He is frightfully sensitive about not getting in the army, and he is per- fectly sweet and kind, and as brutal as a June breeze. You’d better tell mother. And you can tell her he isn’t in love with me, or I with him. You see, I represent what he would call the moneyed aristocracy of America, and he has the most fearful ideas about us.” “An anarchist, then?” asked mademoi- selle, extremely comforted. “Not at all. He says he bclongs to the plain people, the people in between. He is rather oratorical about them. He calls them the backbone of the country.’”’ Mademoiselle relaxed. She had been too long in old An- thony’s house to consider seriously the plain people. “Wait a moment,” said Lily sud- denly. “I have a picture of him some- where.” She disappeared, and mademoiselle heard her rummaging through the drawers of her trunk. She came back with a small photo- graph in her hand. It showed a young man in a large apron ovcr a Red Cross uniform, bending over a low field range with a long- handled fork in his hand. “Trying doughnuts,” Lily explained. “I was in this hut at first, and I mixed them and cut them, and he fried them. We made thousands of them. We used to talk about opening a shop somewhere, Cardew and Cameron. He said my name would be fine for business. He’d fry them in the window, and I’d sell them. And a coffee machine— coffee and doughnuts, you know.” “‘Not—seriously ?”’ At the expression on mademoisclle’s face Lily laughed joyously. ‘‘Why not?” she de- manded. ‘And you could be the cashier, like the ones in France, and sit behind a high desk and count money all day. I’d rather do that than come out,” she added. “You are going to be a good girl, Lily, aren’t your” “Tf that means letting grandfather use me for a doormat, I don’t know. He’s old, and I intend to be careful. But he doesn’t own me body and soul; and it may be hard to make him understand that.” ANY times in the next few months ma- demoiselle was to remember that con- versation, and turn it over in her shrewd, troubled mind. Was there anything she could have done, outside of warning old Anthony himself? Suppose she had gone to Mr. Howard Cardew? “And how,” said mademoiselle, trying to smile, ‘‘do you propose to assert this—this new independence of spirit?” “T am going to see Aunt Elinor,” ob- served Lily. ‘There, that’s eleven buttons on, and I feel I’ve earned my dinner. And I’m going to ask Willy Cameron to come here to see me—to dinner. And as he is sure not to have any evening clothes, for one night in thcir lives the Cardew men are going to dine in mufti—which is military, you dear old thing, for the everyday clothing that the plain people eat in without apparent suffering.” Mademoiselle got up. She felt that Grace should be warned at once. And there was 4 CONTINUED ON PAGE 158 el

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All tints 50 cts. plus 2 cts. war tax. Miniature box by mail 4 cts. plus | ct. war tax. The Freeman Perfume Co. Dept. 53 Cincinnati, Ohio A Poor Wise Man (CONTINUED FROM PAGE 156) look in Lily’s face when she mentioned this Cameron creature that made mademoiselle nervous. “T thought he lived in the country.” “Then prepare yourself for a blow,” said Lily Cardew cheerfully. ‘He is here in the city, earning eighteen dollars a week in the Eagle Pharmacy and serving the plain peo- ple perfectly preposterous patent potions— which is his own alliteration and pretty good, I say.” Mademoiselle went out into the hall. Over the house, always silent, there had come a deathlike hush. In the lower hall the footman was hanging up his master’s hat and over- coat. Anthony Cardew had come home for dinner. Vv Mes WILLIAM WALLACE CAM- ERON, that evening of Lily’s return, took a walk. From his boarding house near the Eagle Pharmacy to the Cardew residence was half an hour’s walk. There were a num- ber of things he had meant to do that eve- ning with a view to improving his mind, but instead he took a walk. He had made up a schedule for those evenings when he was off duty, thinking it out very carefully on the train to the city. And the schedule ran something like this: Monpay: 8-11. Read history. WepnespAy: 8-11. Read politics and eco- nomics, ° Fripay: 8-9:30. Travel. 9:30-11. French. SunpAy: Hear various prominent divines. He had cut down on the travel rather severely, because travel was with him an indulgence rather than a study. The long- est journey he had ever taken in his life was to Washington. That was early in the war, when it did not seem possible that his coun- try would not use him, a boy who could tramp incredible miles in spite of his lame- ness and who could shoot a frightened rabbit at almost any distance by allowing for a slight deflection to the right in the barrel of his old rifle. But they had refused him. “They won’t use me, mother,” he had said when he got home—home being a small, neat house on a tidy street of a little country town. “TI tried every branch, but the only training I’ve had—well, some smart kid said they weren’t planning to serve soda water to the army. They didn’t want cripples, you see.” “T wish you wouldn’t, Willy.” He had been frightfully sorry then, and had comforted her at some length. But the fact remained. “And you the very best they’ve ever had for mixing prescriptions!’”’ she had said at last. “‘And a graduate in chemistry!” “Well,” he said, “that’s that, and we won’t worry about it. There’s more than one way of killing a cat.” “What do you mean, Willy? More than one way?” There was no light of prophecy in William Wallace Cameron’s gray Scot’s eyes, how- ever, when he replied: “ More than one way ofserving my country. Don’t you worry. I'll find something.” O HE had, and he had come out of his Red Cross work in the camp with one or two things in his heart that had not been there before. One was a knowledge of men. He could not have put into words what he felt about men. It was something about the fundamental simplicity of them, for one thing. You got pretty close to them at night sometimes, especially when the homesick ones had gone to bed, and the talking ma- chine was playing in a corner of the long, dim room. There were some shamefaced tears hidden under army blankets those nights, and Willy Cameron did some blinking on his own account, Then, under all the blas- phemy, the loose talk, the surface sordid- ness of their daily lives and thoughts, there was one instinct common to all, one love, one hidden purity. And the keyword to those depths was “home.” “Home,” he said one day to Lily Cardew; “mostly it’s the home they’ ve left, and maybe they didn’t think so much of it then. But they do now. And if it isn’t that, it’s the home they want to have some day.” He looked at Lily. Sometimes she smiled at things he said, and if she had not been grave he would not have gone on. “ You know,” he continued, “there’s mostly a girl some place. All this talk about the nation now”— he settled himself on the edge of the pine table where old Anthony Cardew’s grand- daughter had: been figuring up her week’s accounts and lighted his pipe—‘“the na- tion’s too big for us to understand. But what is the nation but a bunch of homes?” “Willy, dear,” said Lily Cardew, “did you take any money out of the cigar box for anything this week?” “Dollar sixty-five for lard,” replied “ Willy, dear.” ‘As I was saying, we’ve got to think of this country in terms of homes. Not pal- aces like yours me “Good gracious,” said Lily, ‘I don’t live in a palace. Get my pocketbook, will you? I’m out three dollars somehow, and I’d rather make it up myself than add these fig- ures Over again. Go on and talk, Willy; I love hearing you.” “Not palaces like yours,” repeated Mr. Cameron, “‘and not hovels. But mostly self- respecting houses, the homes of the plain people; the middle class, Miss Cardew; my class; the people who never say anything, but are squeezed between capital, repre- sented by your grandfather, and its para- sites, represented by you, and 3 “You represent the people who never say anything,” observed the slightly flushed parasite of capital, ‘about as adequately as I represent the idle rich.” ’ ET not even old Anthony could have resented the actual relationship between them. Lily Cardew, working alone in her hut among hundreds of men, was as without sex consciousness as a child. Gradually, out of the chaos of her early impressions, she began to divide the men in the army into three parts: There were the American-born; they took the war and their part in it as a job to be done with as few words as possible. And there were the foreigners to whom America was a religion, a dream come true, whose flaming love for their new mother inspired them to stuttering eloquence and awkward gestures. And then there was a third divi- sion, small and mostly foreign-born, but with a certain percentage of native malcontents, who hated the war and sneered among them- selves at the other dupes who believed that it was a war for freedom. It was a capital- ists’ war. They considered the state as an instrument of oppression, as a bungling in- terference with liberty and labor; they felt that wealth inevitably brought depravity. They committed both open and covert acts against discipline, and found in their arrest renewed grievances, additional oppression, tyranny. And one day a handful of them, having learned Lily’s identity, came into her hut and attempted to bait her. “Gentlemen,” said one of them, “we have here an example of one of the idle rich, sacri- ficing herself to make us happy. Now, boys, be happy. Are we all happy?” He surveyed the group. “Here, you,” he addressed a sullen-eyed, squat Hungarian, ‘‘smile when I tell you. You're a slave in one of old Car- dew’s mills, aren’t you? Well, aren’t you grateful to him? Here he goes and sends his granddaughter Willy Cameron had entered the room with a platter of doughnuts in his hand, and stood watching, his face going pale. Quite suddenly there was a crash, and the gang leader went down in a welter of porcelain and fried pastry. Willy Cameron was badly beaten up, in the end, and the baiters were court- martialed. But something of Lily’s fine faith in humanity was gone. “But,” she said to him, visiting him one day in the base hospital, where he was still an aching mass of bruises, “there must be something behind it. They didn’t hate me. They only hated my—well, my family.” “My dear child,” said Willy Cameron, feeling very old and experienced and, it must be confessed, extremely happy, “of course there’s something behind it. But the most that’s behind it is a lot of fellows who want without working what the other fellows have worked to get.” r WAS about that time that Lily was ex- changed into the town near the camp, and Willy Cameron suddenly found life a stale thing and ashes in the mouth. He finally de- cided that he had not been such a hopeless fool as to fall in love with her, but that it would be as well not to see her too much. “The thing to do,” he reasoned to himself, “is, first of all, not to see her. Or only on Friday nights, because she likes the movies, and it would look queer to stop.’”’ Thus Willy Cameron speciously to himself and deliber- ately ignoring the fact that some twenty-odd officers stood ready to seize those Friday nights. “And then to work hard, so I'll sleep better and not lie awake making a fool of myself. And when I get a bit of idiocy in the daytime, I’d better just walk it off, be- cause I’ve got to live with myself a long time, probably, and I’m no lovesick Romeo.” CONTINUED ON PAGE 161 2

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A Poor Wise Man Which excellent practical advice had cost him considerable shoe leather at first. In a month or two, however, he considered him- self quite cured, and pretended to himself that he was surprised to find it Friday again. But when, after retreat, the band marched back again to its quarters playing, for in- stance, ‘‘There’s a Long, Long Trail,” there was something inside him that insisted on seeing the years ahead as a long, long trail, and that the trail did not lead to the land of his dreams. He got to know that very well indeed dur- ing the winter that followed the armistice. Because there was work to do he stayed and finished up, as did Lily Cardew. But the hut was closed and she was working in the town, and although they kept up their Fri- day evenings, the old intimacy was gone. And one night she said: ‘‘Isn’t it amaz- ing, when you are busy, how soon Friday night comes along?” And on each day of the preceding week he had wakened and said to himself: ‘This is Monday”’—or whatever day it might be— “and in four more days it will be Friday.” N FEBRUARY he was sent home. Lily stayed on until the end of March. He went back to his little village of plain peo- ple and took up life again as best he could. But sometimes it seemed to him that from behind every firelit window in the evenings— for he was still wearing out shoe leather, particularly at nights—somebody with a mandolin was wailing about the long, long trail. His mother watched him anxiously. He was thinner than ever and oddly older, and there was a hollow look about his eyes that hurt her. “Why don’t you bring home a bottle of tonic from the store, Willy,’ she said one evening, when he had been feverishly run- ning through the city newspaper. He put the paper aside hastily. Tonic!” he said. ‘Why, I’m all right, mother. Any- how, I wouldn’t take any of that stuff.” He caught her eye and looked away. “It takes a little time to get settled again, that’s all, mother.” “The Young People’s Society is having an entertainment at the church to-night, Willy.” “Well, maybe I’ll go,” he agreed to her unspoken suggestion. “If you insist on making me a society man o But some time later he came downstairs with a book. ‘Thought I’d rather read,” he explained. ‘Got a book here on the history of steel. Talk about romances! Let me read some of it to you. You sit there and close your eyes and just listen to this: ‘The first Cardew furnace was built in 1868. At that time’ ——” Some time later he glanced up. His mother was quietly sleeping, her hands folded in her lap. He closed the book and sat there, fighting again his patient battle with himself. The book on his knee seemed to symbolize the gulf between Lily Cardew and himself. But the real gulf, the unbridgeable chasm, between Lily and himself was neither social nor financial. “‘ As if that counted in America,’ he re- flected scornfully.

O; IT was not that. The war had tem- porarily broken down the old social bar- riers. Some of them would never be erected again, although it was the tendency of civiliza- tion for men to divide themselves, rather than to be divided, into the high, the middle and the low. But in his generation young Cam- eron knew that there would be no uncrossable bridge between old Anthony’s granddaughter and himself, were it not for one thing. She did not love him. It hurt his pride to realize that she had never thought of him in any terms except those of pleasant comrade- ship—hardly even as a man. Men fought in wartime. They did not fry doughnuts and write letters home for the illiterate. Any one of those boys in the ranks was a better man than he was. All this talk about a man’s soul being greater than his body, that was rot. A man was as good as the weakest part of him, and no more. His sensitive face in the lamplight was etched with lines of tragedy. He put the book on the table and, suddenly flinging his arms across it, dropped his head on them. The slight movement wakened his mother. “Why, Willy!” she said. After a moment he looked up. “I was almost asleep,” he explained, more to pro- tect her than himself. ‘“I—I wish that fool Nelson kid would break his mandolin—or his neck,” he said irritably. He kissed her (CONTINUED FROM PAGE 158) and went upstairs. From across the quiet street there came, thin, plaintive, occasion- ally inaccurate, the strains of the “Long, Long Trail.” There was the blood of Covenanters in Willy Cameron’s mother, a high courage of sacrifice, and an exceedingly shrewd brain. She lay awake that night carefully planning and, when everything was arranged in or- derly fashion in her mind, she lighted her lamp and carried it to the door of Willy’s room. He lay diagonally across his golden- oak bed, for he was very long, and sleep had rubbed away the tragic lines about his mouth. She closed his door and went back to her bed. “T’ve seen too much of it,” she reflected without bitterness. She stared around the room. ‘Too much of it,” she repeated. And crawled heavily back into bed, a determined little figure, rather chilled. The next morning she expressed a desire to spend a few months with her brother in Cali- fornia. ‘I coughed all last winter after I had the flu,” she explained, “‘and James has been wanting me this long time. I don’t want to leave you, that’s all, Willy. If you were in the city it would be different.” He was frankly bewildered and a little hurt, to tell the truth. He no more suspected her of design than of crime. “Of course you are going,” he said heartily. “It’s the very thing. But I like the way you desert your little son!” “T’ve been thinking about that too,” she said, pouring his coffee. ‘‘I—if you were in the city now, there would always be some- thing to do.” He shot her a suspicious glance, but her face was without evidence of guile. ‘‘ What would I do in the city?” “They use chemists in the mills, don’t they?” ““A fat chance I’d have for that sort of job,” he scoffed. “I—no city for me, mother.” But she knew. She read his hesitation ac- curately, the incredulous pause of the bird whose cage door is suddenly opened. He would go. “I’d think about it, anyhow, Willy.” But for a long time after he had gone she sat quietly rocking in her rocking- chair in the bay window of the sitting room. LL of which explains how, on a March Wednesday evening of the great year of peace, after much tribulation Mr. William Wallace Cameron, now a clerk at the Eagle Pharmacy, after an hour of politics and no economics at all, happened to be taking a walk toward the Cardew house. He had a sort of idea that if he saw the magnificence that housed her, it would through her sheer remoteness kill the misery in him. But he regarded himself with a sort of humorous pity and, having picked up a stray dog, he addressed it now and then. “Even a cat can look at a king,”’ he said once. And again, following some vague train of thought, on a crowded street: ‘‘The peo- ple’s voice is a queer thing. It is, and it is not, ‘the voice of God.’ The people’s voice, old man. Only the ones that count haven’t got a voice.” There were, he felt, two Lily Cardews. One lived in an army camp, and wore plain clothes, and got a bath by means of calcula- tion and persistency, and went to the movies on Friday nights, and was quite apt to eat peanuts at those times, carefully putting the shells in her pocket. And another one lived inside this great pile of brick—he was standing across from it, by the park railing, by that time—where motor cars drew up, and a footman with an umbrella—against a light rain—ushered to their limousines draped women and men in evening clothes, their strong blacks and whites revealed in the light of the street door. And this Lily Cardew lived in state, bowed to by flunkys in livery, dressed and undressed—his Scottish sense of decorum resented this—by serving women. This Lily Cardew would wear frivolous ball gowns, such things as he saw in the shop windows, considered money only as a thing of ex- change, and had traveled all over Europe a number of times. E REFLECTED that it was a good thing he had come, after all, because it was the first Lily whom he loved, and she was gone with the camp and the rest, includ- ing war. What had he in common with those lighted windows, with their heavy laces and draperies? “Nothing at all, old man,” he said cheer- fully to the dog, ‘‘ nothing at all.” But although the ache was gone when he turned homeward, the dog still at his heels, he felt strangely lonely without it. He con- sidered that very definitely he had put love out of his life. Hereafter he would travel the trail alone, or accompanied only by history, politics, economics, and various divines on Sunday evenings. VI Hs ELL, grandfather,” said Lily Car- dew, “the last of the Cardews is home from the wars.” “So I presume,” observed old Anthony. “Owing, however, to your mother’s deter- mination to shroud this room in impene- trable gloom, I can only presume. I cannot see you.”’ His tone was less unpleasant than his words, however. He was in one of the rare moods of what passed with him for geniality. ‘Well, Lily,” he inquired, “how does it seem‘to be at home?” Lily eyed him almost warily. He was sometimes most dangerous in these moods. “I’m not sure, grandfather.” “Not sure about what?” “Well, I am glad to see everybody of course. But what am I to do with myself?” “Tut!” He had an air of benignantly for- giving her. ‘‘ You'll find plenty. What did you do before you went away?” “That was different, grandfather.” “I’m blessed,” said old Anthony trucu- lently, ‘if I understand what has come over this country, anyhow. What is different? We’ve had a war. We’ve had other wars, and we didn’t think it necessary to change the Constitution after them. But every- thing that was right before this war is wrong after it. Lot of young idiots coming back and refusing to settle down. Set of young Bol- shevists !” He had always managed to arouse a con- troversial spirit in the girl. ‘Maybe, if it isn’t right now it wasn’t right before.” Having said it, Lily immediately believed it. She felt suddenly fired with an intense dislike of anything that her grandfather ad- vocated. . “Meaning what?” He fixed her with cold but attentive eyes. “‘Oh—conditions,” she said vaguely. She was not at all sure what she meant. Old Anthony realized it ahd gave a sar- donic chuckle. “I advise you to get a few arguments from your father, Lily. He is full of them. If he had his way I’d have a board of my workmen running my mills while I played golf in Florida.” t+ was a relatively pleasant meal. In her gradual rehabilitation of the house Grace had finally succeeded in doing over the dining room. Over the old walnut paneling she had hung loose folds of faded blue Italian velvet, with old silver candle sconces at irregular intervals along the walls. The great table and high-backed chairs were likewise Italian, and the old-fashioned white marble fireplace had been given an over- mantel, also white, inclosing an old tapestry. For warmth of color there were always flowers, and that night there were red roses. Lily liked the luxury of it. She liked the immaculate dinner dress of the two men; she liked her mother’s beautiful neck and arms; she liked the quiet service once more; she even liked herself, moderately, in a light frock and slippers. But she watched it all with a new interest and a certain detach- ment. She felt strange and aloof, not en- tirely one of them. She felt very keenly that no one of them was vitally interested in this wonder year of hers. They asked her per- functory questions, but Grace’s watchful eyes were on the service, Anthony was en- grossed with his food, and her father Her father was changed. He looked older and careworn. For the first time she began to wonder about her father. What was he, really, under that calm, fastidiously dressed, handsome exterior? Did he mind the little man with the sardonic smile and the" swift, unpleasant humor, whose glance reduced the men who served into terrified menials? Her big, blond father, with his rather slow speech, his honest eyes, his slight hesitation before he grasped some of the finer nuances of his father’s wit. No, he was not brilliant, but he was real—real and kindly. Perhaps he was strong too; he looked strong. With the same pitiless judgment she watched her mother. Either Grace was very big or very indifferent to the sting of old Anthony’s tongue. Sometimes women suf- fered much in silence, because they loved

CONTINUED ON PAGE 162

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Quite calmly Lily decided that, as between her husband and herself, her mother loved her husband. Perhaps that was as it should be, but it added to her sense of aloofness. Anthony, who had a most unpleasant faculty of remembering things, suddenly bent forward and observed to her, across the table: ‘‘I should be interested to know, since you regard present conditions as wrong, and—I inferred—wrong because of my mishandling of them, just what you would propose to do to right them.” “But I didn’t say they were wrong, did I?” “Don’t answer a question with a ques- tion. It’s a feminine form of evasion, be- cause you have no answer and no remedy. Yet, heaven save the country, women are going to vote!” He pushed his plate away and glanced at Grace. “Is that the new chef’s work?” “Yes. Isn’t it right?” “Right? The food is impossible.” “He came from the club.” “Send him back,” ordered Anthony. And when Grace observed that it was difficult to get servants, he broke into a cold fury. What had come over the world, anyhow? Time was when a gentleman’s servants stayed with the family until they became pension- ers and their children took their places. Now —— RACE said nothing. Her eyes sought Howard’s and seemed to find some comfort there. Lily, sorry for her mother, said the first thing that came into her head: “The old days of caste are gone, grandfather. And service, in your sense of the word, went with them.” “Really?” Heeyedher. “Whosaid that? Because I dare say it is not original.” “A man I knew at camp.” “What man?” “His name was Willy Cameron.” “Willy Cameron! Was this—er—person qualified to speak? Does he know anything about what he chooses to call caste?” “He thinks a lot about things.” ‘A little less thinking and more working wouldn’t hurt the country any,” observed old Anthony. He bent forward. “As my granddaughter and the last of the Cardews,” he said, ‘I have a certain interest in the sources of your political opinions. They will probably, like your father’s, differ from mine. You may not know that your father has not only opinions, but ambitions.” She saw Grace stiffen and Howard’s warn- ing glance at her. But she saw, too, the look in her mother’s eyes, infinitely loving and compassionate. “Dear little mother,” she thought; “he is her baby really, not I.” She was conscious of a new attitude among the three at the table—her mother’s tense watchfulness, her father’s slightly squared shoulders, and across from her her grand- father, faintly smiling. “It’s time somebody went into city pol- itics for some purpose other than graft,” said Howard. ‘‘I am going to run for mayor, Lily. I probably won’t get it.” “You can see,” said old Anthony, “why I am interested in your views, or perhaps I should say, in Willy Cameron’s. Does your father’s passion for uplift, for instance, ex- tend to you?” ““Why won’t you be elected, father?” “Partly because my name is Cardew.” LD Anthony chuckled. “What?” he exclaimed—‘“‘after the bathhouse and gymnasium you have built at the mill? And the laundries for the women, which I believe they do not use? Surely, Howard, you would not accuse the dear people of ingrati- tude?” “They are beginning to use them, sir.” Howard, in his forties, still addressed his father as “sir!” “Then you admit your defeat before- hand.” “You are rather a formidable antagonist.” *** Antagonist!’” Anthony repeated in mock protest. “I am a quiet onlooker at the game. I am amused naturally. You must understand,” he said to Lily, “that this is a matter of principle with your father. He believes that he should serve. My whole contention is that the people don’t want to be served. They want to be bossed. They like it; it’s all they know. And they’re sus- picious of a man who puts his hand into his own pocket instead of into theirs.” Lily’s old distrust of her grandfather re- vived. Why did people sharpen like that with age? And—what was she going to do with herself? Already the atmosphere of the house began to depress and worry her; she felt a new, almost violent impatience with it. It was so unnecessary. HE went to the pipe organ which filled the space behind the staircase and played a little, but she had never been very proficient and her own awkwardness annoyed her. : In the dining room she could hear the men talking, Howard quietly, his father in short, staccato barks. She left the organ and wan- dered into her mother’s morning room, be- hind the dining room, where Grace sat with the coffee tray before her. “T’m afraid I’m going to be terribly on your hands, mother,” she said. “I don’t know what to do with myself, so how can you know what to do with me?” “Tt is going to be rather stupid for you at first, of course,” Grace said. ‘“‘Lent—and then so many of the men are not at home. Would you like to go South?” “Why, I’ve just come home!” ‘We can have some luncheons, of course— just informal ones; and there will be small dinners. You'll have to get some clothes. I saw Suzette yesterday; she had some ador- able things.” “T’d love them. Mother, why doesn’t he want father to go into politics?” Grace hesitated. ‘‘He doesn’t like change, for one thing. But I don’t know anything about politics. Suzette says i “Will he try to keep him from being elected?” “He won’t support him. Of course I hardly think he would oppose him. I really don’t understand about those things.” “You mean you don’t understand him. Well, I do, mother. He has run everything, including father, for so long “ Lily [77 “T must, mother. Why, out at the camp ” She checked herself. ‘All the papers say that the city is badly governed, and that he is responsible. And now he is going to fight his own son! The more I think about it the more I understand about Aunt Elinor. Mother, where do—where do they live?” Grace looked apprehensively toward the door. “You are not allowed to visit her.” “Do you?” “That’s different. And I only go once or twice a year.” “Just because she married a poor man, a man whose father ss “Not at all. That is all dead and buried. He is a very dangerous man. He is running a Socialist newspaper, and now he is inciting the mill men to strike. He is preaching terri- ble things.” “What do you mean by terrible things, mother?” “Your father says it amounts to a revolu- tion—like Russia. I dare say he believes what he preaches. But he ought to be put into jail. Why the country lets such men go around, preaching sedition, I don’t under- stand.” | we! remembered something else Willy Cameron had said, and promptly re- peated it. ‘‘We had a muzzled press during the war,” she said, “and now we’ve got free speech. And one’s really as bad as the other. She must love him terribly, mother,” she added. But Grace harked back to Suzette, and the last of the Cardews harked with her. Later, people dropped in and Lily made a real attempt to get back into her old groove; but that night, when she went upstairs to her bedroom, with its bright fire, its bed neatly turned down, her dressing gown and slippers laid out, the shaded lamps shining on the gold and ivory of her dressing table, she was conscious of a sudden homesickness— homesickness for her bare little room in the camp barracks, for other young lives, noisy, chattering, often rather silly, occasionally unpleasant, but young, radiantly, vitally young. The great house, with its stillness and decorum, oppressed her. There was no youth in it, save hers. After she had undressed she rang her bell, and Castle answered it. “Please find out if Ellen has gone to bed,” she said. “If she has not, I would like to talk to her.” The maid looked slightly surprised. ‘If it’s your hair, Miss Lily, Mrs. Cardew has asked me to look after you until she has en- gaged a maid for you.” “Not my hair,” said Lily cheerfully. “TI rather like doing it myself. I just want to talk to Ellen.” CONTINUED ON PAGE 164 = —

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Bissell’s New Lightweight Vacuum Sweepers have re- moved every excuse for cleaning drudgery. Conven- ience in emptying, too, is a prominent feature. They are sold at most good stores. Ask to see them. Prices $9.00 to $17.50; “‘“Cyco” Ball Bearing Carpet Sweepers, so handy for everyday sweeping and a great saver of brooms, $4.50 to $7.50— depending upon style and locality. BISSELL CARPET SWEEPER CO. Oldest and Largest Sweeper Makers Grand Rapids, Mich. Made in Canada, too A Poor Wise Man (CONTINUED FROM PAGE 162) It was a bewildered and rather scandalized Castle who conveyed the message to Ellen. VII ““T WISH you'd stop whistling that thing,” said Miss Boyd irritably. ‘It makes me low in my mind.” “Sorry,” said Willy Cameron. “TI do it because I’m low in my mind.” “What are you low about?” Miss Boyd had turned toward the rear of the counter, where a mirror was pasted to a card above a box of chewing gum, and was carefully ad- justing her hair net. “Lady friend turned you down?” Willy Cameron glanced at her. “I’m low because I haven’t got a lady friend, Miss Boyd.” He held up a sheet of prescription paper and squinted at it. “Also, because the medical profession writes with its feet appar- ently. I’ve done everything to this except dip it in acid. I’ve had it pinned to the wall and tried glancing at it as I went past. Sometimes you can surprise them that way. But it’s no good. I’m going to take it home and dream on it, like bride’s cake.” “‘They’re awful, aren’t they?” “When I get into the legislature,” said Willy Cameron, “I’m going to have a bill passed compelling doctors to use type- writers. Take this now. Read upside down, it’s horse liniment. Read right side up, it’s poison. And it’s for internal use.” “What d’you mean, you haven’t got a lady friend?” “The exact and cruel truth.” He smiled at her, and had Miss Boyd been more dis- cerning she might have seen that the smile was slightly forced; also, that his eyes were somewhat sunken in his head, which might, of course, have been due to too much polit- ical economy and history and the eminent divines on Sunday evenings. Miss Boyd, however, was not discerning, and moreover she was summoning her cour- age to a certain point. ‘‘Why don’t you ask me to go to the movies some night?” she said. ‘I like the movies, and I get sick of going alone.” “My dear child,’ observed Willy Cam- eron, “if that young man in the sack suit who comes in to see you every day were three inches shorter and twenty pounds lighter, I’d ask you this minute.” “Oh, him!” said Miss Boyd with a self- conscious smile. “I’m through with him. He’s a Bolshevik.” ‘‘He has the Bolshevist possessive eye,” agreed Willy Cameron readily. ‘Does he know you are through with him? Because that’s important too. You may know it and I may knowit, but if he doesn’t know it i “Why don’t you say right out you don’t want to take me?” Willy Cameron’s chivalrous soul was sud- denly shocked. To his horror he saw tears in Miss Boyd’s eyes. “I’m just a plain idiot, Miss Edith,” he said. “I was only fooling. It will mean a lot to me to have a nice girl go with me to the movies, or anywhere else. We'll make it to-night, if that suits you; and I’ll take a look through the neighbor- hood at noon and see what’s worth while.” HE Eagle Pharmacy was a small one ina quiet neighborhood. During the day and for three evenings a week Mr. William Wal- lace Cameron ran it almost single-handed, having only the preoccupied assistance of Miss Boyd in the candy and fancy goods. At the noon and dinner hours and four evenings a week, he was relieved by the owner, a tired, little man named Davis, with large, project- ing ears and worried, childlike eyes, who was nursing an invalid wife at home—a pathetic little man, carrying home with unbounded faith day after day bottles of liquid foods and beef capsules and making wistful comments on them when he returned. ‘She couldn’t seem to keep that last stuff down, Mr. Cameron,” he would say. “T’ll try something else.”” And he would stand before his shelves, eyes upturned, searching, eliminating, choosing. Miss Boyd attended to the general mer- chandise, sold stationery and perfumes, candy and fancy soaps, and in the intervals surveyed the world that lay beyond the plate-glass windows with shrewd, sophisti- cated, young eyes. Her sophistication was kindly in the main. She combined it with an easy tolerance of weakness and an invincible and cheery romanticism, as Willy Cameron discovered the night they first went to a moving-picture theater together. She frankly wept and joyously laughed, and now and then, delighted at catching some film subtlety and fearful that he would miss it, she would nudge him with her elbow. “What d’ you think of that?” she would say. “T’you get it? He thinks he’s getting her— Alice Joyce, you know—on the telephone, and it’s a private wire to the gang.”’ She was rather quiet after that particular speech. Then she added: “I know a place that’s got a secret telephone.” But he was absorbed in the picture, and made no comment on that. She seemed rather relieved. Once or twice she placed an excited hand on his knee. He was very uncomfortable until she removed it, because he had a helpless sort of impression that she was not quite so unconscious of it as she appeared. Time had been, and not so long ago, when he might have reciprocated her little advance in the spirit in which it was offered, might have taken the hand and held it, out of the sheer joy of youth and proximity. But there was nothing of the philanderer in the Willy Cameron who sat beside Edith Boyd that night in body, while in spirit he was in an- other state, walking with his slight limp over crisp snow and sodden mud, but through magic lands, to the little moving-picture theater at the camp. Would he ever see her again? Ever again? And if he did, what good would it be? H& ROUSED himself when they started toward home. The girl was chattering happily. She adored the hero. She knew a girl who had written for his picture; but she didn’t get one. She wouldn’t do a thing like that. Did they really say things when they moved their lips? “T think they do,” said Willy Cameron. “When that chap was talking over the tele- phone I could tell what he was saying by —— Look here, what did you mean when you said you knew of a place that has a secret telephone?” “T was only talking.” “No house has any business with a secret telephone,” he said virtuously. “Oh, forget it. I say a lot of things I don’t mean.” He was a little puzzled and rather curious, but not at all disturbed. “Well, how did you get to know about it?” “T tell you I was only talking.” He let it drop at that. But something he had said had started an unpleasant train of thought in her mind. She was walking faster and frowning slightly. To cheer her he said: “T’m keeping an eye out for the large young man in the sack suit, you know. If he jumps me, just yell for the police, will you? Because I'll probably not be able to.” “‘T wish you’d let me forget him.” “T will. The question is, will he?” But he saw that the subject was unpleasant. “We'll have to do this again. It’s been mighty nice of you to come.” ““Vow’ll have to ask me the next time.” “T certainly will. But I think I’d better let your family look me over first, just so they'll know that I don’t customarily steal the silver spoons when I’m asked out to dinner, or anything like that.” “We're just—folks.” “So am I, awfully—folks—and pretty lonely folks at that. Something like that pup that has adopted me, only worse. He’s got me, but I haven’t anybody.” “You'll not be lonely long.” She glanced up at him. “That’s cheering. Why?” “Well, you are the sort that makes friends,” she said rather vaguely. ‘That crowd that drops into the shop on the eve- nings you’re there—they’re crazy about you. They like to hear you talk.” “Great Scott! I suppose I’ve been orating all over the place.” HE WAS very crestfallen during the re- mainder of the wayand rather silent. He wondered, that night before he went to bed, if he had been didactic to Lily Cardew. He had aired his opinions to her at length, he knew. He groaned as he took off his coat in his cold little room at the boarding house which lodged and fed him, both indiffer- ently, for the sum of twelve dollars a week. Jinx, the little hybrid dog, occupied the seat of his own comfortable chair. He eyed the animal somberly. ‘‘ Hereafter, old man,” he said, “when I feel a spell of oratory com- ing on, you will have to be the audience.” He took his dressing gown from a nail be- hind the door and started to put it on. Then he took it off and wrapped the dog in it. “I can read in bed, which you can’t,’”’ he ob- served. “Only, I can’t help thinking, with all this town to pick from, you might have chosen a fellow with two dressing gowns and two chairs.” CONTINUED IN THE MAY HOME JOURNAI |

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Snug In His Sidway He Laughs At The Showers Not just a fair weather friend is Baby’s Sidway. On rainy days it is ready to ride him through drizzle or storm, if need be. Sidway Collapsible Baby Car- riages are all weather conveyances. The hood of DuPont Fabrikoid is waterproof; the whole car- riage washable, a storm curtain obtainable at slight additional cost. : : : Though unusually roomy, this convenient carriage takes only a tiny space when not in use, folding flat to be tucked away ina closet corner or carried in train, street car or motor. : : : There are no jolts for baby’s back when he rides. The adjustable spring, delicate enough when he is tiny, can be made firmer, little by little, as he grows heavier, keeping pace with his weight, protecting his back always. : : : See Sidway Carriages at your dealer’s or write for Baby Book and Health Chart, by which to judge baby’s health and growth. Address Dept. 16. SIDWAY MERCANTILE CoO., Elkhart, Indiana World’s largest mfr’s of reed and collapsible baby carriages. Canadian Factory: 864 Dufferin St., Toronto, Ontario Does an April shower catch Baby far from home? Up goes the hood, down goes the storm curtain. Rain can’t reach him. He’s in his Sidway. & Reed and Collapsible Baby Carriages Alin The well-known line of Allwin baby vehi- cles is also the prod- uct of this factory. Both Ne The power plant engineer, oil can in hand, oil to relieve the friction and prevent wear. oil you can obtain for the purpose. is all pure, highly refined oil, free from grit, grease, acids and other injurious substances. Penetrates closest fitting bearings; cleans; lubricates perfectly. Stops stiffness, squeaks and rattles. ’ Saves new machines from premature old age. Regular Ojuling larly. Not a single bearing runs a moment without plenty of good Your sewing machine is far more delicate than any machinery and therefore needs careful, regular oiling with the finest = The High Grade 3-1In-One Sewing Machine Oil polishes wooden case, painted metal and nickeled parts. At all good stores in 1-oz., 3-0z. and 8-0z. bottles and 3-0z. Handy Oil Cans that fit any machine drawer. Free A generous sample and Dictionary explaining 79 household uses for 3-in-One, sent free on request. Three-in-One Oil Co., 165 CVG. Broadway, New York. a ed makes his rounds regu- wer-house Rejuvenates old ones. Also HOME JOURNAL April, 1920 Pagari (CONTINUED FROM PAGE 25) “That was enough for me, and I passes up the signal for a back-trail play, which means the column advances two hundred yards while my ‘squad waits in ambush for what might be followin’ us. We waits a full quarter of an hour, four men on one side of the trail and me and four men on the other. Not a sound broke the stillness ’cept I could hear myself breathin’ and my heart poundin’ away like a trip hammer. A Turkish bath had nothin’ on the heat in that grass jungle. The sweat was a-pourin’ down my face, and I could feel my hands a-slippin’ and a-slidin’ as I gripped the stock of my rifle. Blackie was squatting between my legs, his body tremblin’ with excitement and his head poked out, as he gazed down the trail. “T was about ready to believe that the pup was sufferin’ from his first touch of buck fever, when around a bend in the trail ap- pears the faint outline of a human form a-creepin’ and a-glidin’ along as quiet and stealthy as a cat. We had orders not to shoot, so it was to be the butt-end of a gun before he yelled and no quarter. Just before the varmint reaches us a twig snaps under my foot and he stops short. Well, this ’ere dog must have reasoned that I was about to spill the beans. He waits for no orders, but before the Moro could turn to run Blackie’s body shoots through the air and his teeth closed on the native’s neck, chokin’ the startled yell in his throat.” a body how he comes by the name of Pagari, and from that night on from bein’ a company mascot he become the one and only regimental mascot. A good many years rolled by before we went to France, during which me and Pagari became mighty nigh to bein’ Siamese twins, we was such close buddies. When the orders come to go, my one concern was the fear of havin’ to leave him behind, and the most disturbin’ question to the whole regiment was how to get him over, it bein’ contrary to orders. Well, he got over and he got back, so that’s neither here nor there. “And now, sir, comes the most curious part of this here tale. We no sooner took over a section of front line than this ’ere dog began sniffin’ the air and growlin’ and snarlin’ out there toward No Man’s Land. And when prisoners come through our lines he like to have a fit and it was all we could do to keep him off of their backs. Yes, sir; I don’t intend no insult to them Moros, be- cause I respects them from the bottom of my heart, but it just seemed like the smell of a boche was just as offensive to this dog’s nose as that of them Moros back in the Philip- pines. The up-and-shot of it was that Pagari spent all of his nights in the front line, and more than once he gave us a warnin’ when our wire was bein’ tampered with by the enemy. “Well, along last September, just before the St. Mihiel push, we moves up into the front again after three weeks’ torture drillin’ and scrubbin’ in what some calls a ‘rest area.’ It was one of them dark nights like in the Islands, only it weren’t so all-fired quiet; the boches kept shootin’ off fireworks to keep up their courage and light up the scen- ery. Them boches had pulled several raids since we last left this sector, both with and without artillery, and the orders was strict about sleepin’ on post and tendin’ to busi- ness. It weren’t a quiet sector by no means, and Pagari would crouch close to me every time a Minnie come whinin’ over our heads.” “ABOUT one o’clock one night I pulls a youngster off a listenin’ post, who had a bad cough, and me and Pagari was holdin’ down his job while waitin’ for his relief to come up. Big guns was poundin’ away from behind us, and I was listenin’ to the shells screechin’ above me and countin’ the time till I’d hear ’em burst over in Heinie’s back areas. A flight of night-bombers, hummin’ like the drone of bumble bees, passed high overhead, and I knew the supply boys at the railhead was in for more than their share of hot work before daylight. A thin, white mist was settlin’ close to the ground, makin’ ob- servation difficult, and the air was chill and damp. I pulled my sweater collar high up on my neck and took a swig at the hot coffee I had in my canteen. “‘ All of a sudden this ’ere pup begins snif- fin’ the air suspiciouslike and whinin’, which last was dead against his trainin’ and orders. Before I can stop him he scrambles over the parapet and slinks out toward our wire. Right then and there, sir, if I could a-caught him I'd a-killed him. Workin’ parties on the wire was due out at two o’clock, and he was more than liable to get me and him both into a heap of trouble. “T peers over the top of the parapet and I sees his black form a-creepin’ forward slow- like. Pretty soon he stops just this side of our wire and begins a-growlin’ like fury. And then, sir, he breaks all records for con- trariness. “His head goes up in the air and he turns loose a fit of barkin’ just like a watch dog back home. I seen several dark forms re- treatin’ through the wire and as they goes Pagari follows ’em up, gettin’ more vehement with every step. As my eyes become more accustomed to the darkness I makes out sev- eral black patches there in No Man’s Land which I knows ain’t been there before. There was no mistakin’ what was up, and I pulls the signal cord connéctin’ me with the dug- out where the top sergeant hung out. I could hear the scurryin’ of feet as the men come runnin’ up the communicatin’ trenches and manned the firin’ step.” “TT TURNS my attention to them suspicious black forms out front and to Pagari. He was still a-barkin’; but all of a sudden he give a yelp of pain the likes of which I’d never heard him do before. At the same time I sees a strange-lookin’, green-star light flicker up over in bocheland, and then all-fired hell broke loose as them Heinies drops a box barrage. “T has no more time to think of Pagari, for them boches was on me thicker than peas in a pod and I has all I can do mowin’ ?em down with my Browning as they ap- pears on the skyline. I fires single shots, pickin’ ’em off as they appear in the light of the flares our boys was shootin’ off. A couple of potato mashers misses my head and sprays me with dirt as they explodes behind me. What with the smoke of them grenades and the Heinies comin’ thicker, I throws my gun into automatic and just naturally sprays the atmosphere with lead; but they was a-comin’ too fast for me, and as I throws in a fresh magazine one big boche falls in on me, bay- onet first, and I feels a dull pain in the head and a sharp one in my innards. “‘T must have passed out about that time, for I don’t remember no more till I come to at the battalion aid station about daylight, with my head bound up and my stummick feelin’ like I was in corsets and hurtin’ fit to kill. The first golden rays of light was shown in the east, dissipatin’ the ground fog and makin’ things visible. I felt somethin’ warm lickin’ my fingers, and there beside me was old Pagari with what was left of his tail done up in bandages. “Well, sir, what with the pain and bein’ weak I just up and cried, seein’ my old bud- die beside me safe and sound. And then they told me, while waitin’ for the ambulance, what had happened after I cashed in. About the time I ‘got mine’ reénforcements come up, and they drove what was left of them boches back across No Man’s Land. From the number of bodies they found layin’ out there when daylight come, it weren’t exactly what you’d call a successful raid. And when they found me, old Pagari was beside me with six inches of his tail gone as clean as if it had been chopped off on a meat block.” E SPENT four months together back in a base hospital, and the only re- grets I got is we missed the big show-down with the regiment up in the Argonne. What with fine chow and a good bed with real sheets, it was soft pickin’; and them young nurses like to spoil this honnery critter to death with their attention and pettin’. That there stump of his mighty nigh wagged itself off, and it ain’t stopped waggin’ yet, he’s so proud and stuck up. “Well, me and old Pagari is pretty much alone in the world since the old woman died, and I allows as how we’ll just retire from active service and spend the rest of our lives chasin’ rabbits and huntin’ squirrels down in Kentucky.” As the old man stopped and stretched himself Pagari woke up. Stretching himself likewise, he placed his soft black muzzle be- tween the sergeant’s knees and looked up into his master’s face, the incarnation of dumb devotion. Fingering the ribbon at- tached to his collar I said: “‘ Well, who won the cross, you or Pagari?” “That’s another story, young man, the most of which you already know, and I leave you to judge who deserved it—me or the dog.” “Well, tell me one thing, sergeant,’ I again questioned: “how did you beat the orders prohibiting dogs from being trans- ported to and from France?” The old man’s eyes twinkled as he replied: “Son, did you ever stop to think what a lot of waste space there is inside a bass drum?”

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“Newport” Silver-Inlaid Tea Spoons 6 for $5 Super-Plate Tea Spoons 6 for $4 Aa OI Sg na oe Lees gical ee 3 WARZRZXARZK LMWOMYNY VENA WMG, GTO 7 OL 6S HOLMES § EDWARDS SILVERWARE HROUGH all the history of entertaining, the hostess has rec- ognized one great, unchanging tradition. It is that the simple practice of breaking bread at her own table shall be reserved as the greatest honor she can bestow. And then it is—be it the most informal of suppers or the most lux- urious of banquets—that her silverware is called upon to serve with every-day fidelity and even greater charm. Brilliant and lustrous, its sparkle is depended upon to enhance the snowy spread of fine napery, the rich color of rare china, the grace of crystal glasses. Holmes & Edwards Silverware is familiar to these hostesses. They know the richness of its pattern, the gleam of its silver and the cunning of its plate. Holmes & Edwards Super- Plate they know as extra silver plated. Silver-Inlaid they recognize as having actual blocks of sterling laid in at rest points before plating. Either quality they accept as representative of the highest type of the pleasing art of the modern silversmith. AT ALL BETTER DEALERS IN SILVERWARE HoiMes & Epwarps SILVER Co. INTERNATIONAL SILVER CO., SUCCESSOR Bridgeport, Conn. Canadian Distributors STANDARD SILVER COMPANY, Lid. Toronto, Canada “Jamestown” Silver-Inlaid Tea Spoons 6 for $5 Super-Plate Tea Spoons 6 for $4

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Yarns and Cottons Also Makers of Dress Silks and Silk Thread Corticelli Sweater Silk and Flosola Yarn make this scarf. Corticelli Flosola is a perfect yarn for light- weight garments. It will not crush or mat when worn. Corticelli yarns are made from selected long fibre wool. They come in six different twists and weights. Newest thing ~ for Spring Dainty Corticelli Scarf — Exquisite rainbow coloring —So easy to make —Send for your directions today ELICATELY soft and fluffy is the new Corticelli Scarf designed for spring. Of feather weight, its rainbow coloring will add charm to any costume. Lovely with the sheer afternoon frock—so graceful and be- coming. Be the first to wear the newest scarf for spring. Directions for making this exclusive Corticelli de- sign will be sent specially with either Corticelli Yarn Book No. 12—full of new and original knitted designs, or Corticelli Lessons in Crochet, Book No. 9—with attractive designs for your home and personal wear. CORTICELLI LESSONS IN CROCHET, BOOK No. 9—Attractive designs for making the home lovely. New uses for filet. Tablecloths, break- fast and luncheon linens, centerpieces, bedspreads, curtains, pillow slips, dresser scarfs, towel ends. Dainty yokes and boudoir caps. Pretty aprons, collars and jabots. Carriage pillows and bibs for baby. New tams and sweaters. Price 10c; by mail 13c. CORTICELLI YARN BOOK No. 12—Showing smart sweaters, long knitted coats, three new scarfs including the spring 1920 ‘‘Tuxedo,”’ new ‘“‘suky” handbag, jaunty tams, golf hose, a ‘Bretton Ves- coat,’” woven worsted set consisting of collar, cuffs and vestee, a novel idea in a smart ‘Fluffy Ruffle” filet blouse and a black silk camisole to go with it, sweaters and bedroom slippers for the little tot and a slip-on sweater for the school girl. Price 15c; by mail 18c, CORTICELLI FILET SWEATERS, BOOK No. 11—Twelve new filet sweaters—a coat sweater for the baby and sweater of knitted filet for a child of three. A smart filet sport hat and striking designs + the popular saddle bag. Price 15 cents; by mail cents. Write today. Order from your dealer and save postage, or address Corticelli Silk Mills, 104 Nono- tuck Street, Florence, Mass. No Canadian orders accepted. MADE IN AMERICA QI CDA AI DVI IVD OI Ss Model Brassieres mould the full fiqure to gir ish lines "fener with full, well- 9 developed figures can wear Bandeau or Regular |} Brassieres with slenderized girlish lines simply by choos- ing a Model Brassiére de- signed and constructed for their specific type. CDO0INEG IEW? C™ DS GO CADILOAISD OO GLO ASE GOQO Model Brassiéres are made for Full Figures, Normal Figures and Slender Fig- ures of any kind of material in every kind of fastening, for every occasion and cir- cumstance, from the Opera to Outdoors. 65c to $10. Illustrated Style Book sent, on request, with our compliments. assiere Dept. “L” 200 FIFTH AVENUE NEW YORK HOME JOURNAL Ahn pt Or eae Roe Sa. Why I Should Like My Boy to Marry an American Girl (CONTINUED FROM PAGE 41) they are) as quite a matter of course. But these qualities are looked upon as charms by the American girl? ‘Well, then, who could help being pleased—that is, if she were a mother anxious to see her sons appreciated? But, seriously! There’s something above and beyond all this. The British mother who saw her boy take as his wife an Amer- ican girl would see in it a symbol of the mating of the two great nations who were always akin in blood and in sentiments, who were once enemies, who are now, we hope, not only cousins, but friends for the benefit of countless coming generations. Reasons Why I Shouldn’t Like It FTER that, how can I put any reason why I shouldn’t like an American daughter-in-law? But there are other things —well, I take them less from my own obser- vation than from the word of an American woman herself, a brilliant and shrewd and experienced creature, professor of hygiene at one of your women’s universities which I visited. To her I voiced my admiration of American girls, in so many ways ahead of ours. “They’re not ahead of yours in health,” the doctor told me in her downright way. ‘“‘Fix themselves up better; better dressed, that’s what they are maybe. But our girls don’t look after themselves. We haven’t got your fresh-skinned, athletic type of woman that enjoys every minute of her life in the open air and keeps young when she’s a grandmother. Our girls don’t enjoy exercise. They don’t walk like Englishwomen.” “But ” T protested in surprise, and went on to tell her of my delightful visit to a girl’s camp, where I saw Rosalind of Arden come to life again in the person of so many bonnie, healthy American girls. “Yes, those camps are the best things we do for our girls,” the American woman doctor assured me. “But ‘God bless them, they need it’! We had to start some big movement like that to counteract the un- healthy way such lots of our girls live. They haven’t any wish to go out on their own initiative for hikes in the country. They sit about in rockers eating candy instead. Or there’s that never-to-be-enough-deplored American institution, the corner drug store, where our college girls will hie themselves at ten o’clock in the morning, my dear lady; yes, at ten o’clock without any decent break- fast inside themselves.” “Really,” I said, puzzled; “but I don’t quite follow ‘the corner drug store.’ Is it what we call ‘the chemist’s shop’? What do girls go there for?” “Tce cream,” the doctor told me with an ineffable grimace of resignation and disgust. It remained on her bright face while she descanted unto me of the methods of corner drug-store ice-cream making, of the unclean washing up of the utensils therewith con- nected, of the effect, on girls’ appetites and girls’ digestions, of this universal American institution. Other things she told me of the ways in which American girls will neglect or injure what should be the young woman’s heritage of perfect health. I don’t know whether it was that from her very profession she was bound to see the worst of this question. I don’t know whether it was that, because I was a new and in- terested audience, she found herself voicing with fresh emphasis the warnings and the rebukes with which she was wont to steer her adoring, terrified college lambs away from pitfall and morass. Was she giving me a faithful picture of the American girl and her ignorance or carelessness of the rules of health? A daughter-in-law who was perfectly “fit,” as we say—that, one would demand as her first asset, of course. I had taken that so much for granted. Yet this brilliant Amer- ican doctor found it necessary to hand out to her audience of American college girls a lec- ture on elementary hygiene which I’d heard that morning and which surprised me. That lecture, among educated young British women, would have been out-of-date and superfluous ten years ago. Perish the Thought! SHOULD not like a daughter-in-law who, as far as the laws of her own young body were concerned, was in this state of igno- rance—a girl who had underexercised, under- walked, over-lazed in chairs, over-“‘frowsted”’ in hot rooms, over-danced in over-high-heel shoes,and overeaten herself on your (fascinat- ing) candies and ice creams; a girl who feared drafts and was subject to sick headaches and (oh, unromantic thought!) stomach trouble from lack of ordinary attention to sensible diet; a girl who had to rouge cheeks only twenty-five years old, but sallow from sedentary, indoor habits. What sort of wife would she make to anybody’s boy? And what sort of mother for anybody’s grandchildren that should be rosy and bouncing with health? The answer’s obvious. But are so many of the American girls as that notable American doctor describes them? It’s a sad, a disillusioning thought. Per- sonally I wish it to perish. I leave it—to the American girls. My dears, you answer the question with your own lives and looks and ways and clean bills of health. And do let the answer be—NO/ The Beacon Light (Theodore Roosevelt) By Murray Ketcham Kirk N THE gray dim light where Time is not, Where star dust falls and dreams arise, A fearless soul winged its earthward flight And clove the space that veils the skies. When His mighty plan unfolded slow And the rage of battle shook the world— When the seas were strewn with wrecks and blood And the flags of Right were almost furled— A voice rang out through the night of flame That wrapped the earth where death lights shone, And called to men to awake, to fight, To pledge their lives to protect their own. From sunlit plains in the golden West Where tall grass creeps to the river’s side _. From snow-hung pines to the purple gulf The nation rose like a human tide. In that twilight realm where star dust falls, That fearless soul stands guard, alone; While his message flames, a beacon light: Protect this land that is your own. Next Time By Lee Shippey I CAN’T have any supper, not a bite, Next time; An’ I'll have to go to sleep without the light Next time; An’ if I just dare to cry Mother’ll tell the fairies why, An’ they’ll take my toys an’ fly, Next time. I’m goin’ to get a spankin’—oh, so hard— Next time; An’ can’t ever play again outside the yard Next time; An’ I can’t have candle cake My next birthday, but must rake All the yard, an’ pains must take Next time. I’m braver than most little boys, no doubt, For I’m Not one little, teeny bit a-scared about Next time— Though I’ve been in this same fix Years an’ years (I’m nearly six) Every this time Mother picks Next time!

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(DRIED) Wiru the color of ripe, golden fruit, with a flavor rich in nat- ural sweetness, Blue Ribbon Peaches appeal to the woman who takes pride in her table. They enhance the beauty of the table, they impart zest to the appetite—they are nourishing, inexpensive, and of such rare goodness that they win instant appreciation. No fruit is more delicious than California peaches, and by drying them when fully ripened they provide a table delicacy for every month of the year. Use them frequently, they will contribute much to the suc- cess of the breakfast, lunch, dinner or banquet. Like bresh Fruit Dried peaches are fresh peaches with only the moisture removed. This is replaced simply by soaking the peaches in water over night, which restores them to their original condition. All the fuzz and most of the peeling are elim- inated—ready for Peach Sauce or as the main part of many enticing recipes. They take the place of fresh fruit in any recipe. Address Dept. ‘1,’’ for free recipe book showing many delightful ways of serving Blue Ribbon Peaches Produced and Packed by the CALIFORNIA PEACH GROWERS: INC: OVER 6500 MEMBERS ~Main Office: Fresno, California

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a es] 3 With Si will not injure the daintiest RIT Brings Fashion’s Festive Color Color is fashion’s glorious gift to woman this Spring. i From sheerest negligee to waist or veil—color, in a riot some dainty shade or to of rainbow hues, can be yours with RIT. ws Whether it be to restore SS 7, ? brighten some special bit of apparel—pajamas, corsets, 4 negligees, stockings, silk underwear or washable frock bi —RIT is dependable always. i In one simple operation it washes and “RIT-s.” And fabric. RIT—for all washable materials 7 Black, Pink, Rose, Old Rose, Salmon q Pink, Red, Yellow, Flesh, Tangerine, Canary Yellow, Golden Yellow, Emerald Green, Light Green, Light Grey, Battleship Grey, Chartreuse, Taupe, Mustard, Lavender, Light oe Blue, Dark Blue, Orange, Tan, Brown. Sun Flakes— Fine, flutfy flakes of pure, white soap that cleanse dainty garments and won't shrink woolens. POWDERED | RIT! " TRAE WARK REO US. PAT ore 46 For BOMING. FAST COLORS “Rit Flaked RIT— for sheer washable materials Pink, Red, Yellow, Navy Blue, Dark Blue, Light Green, Old Rose, Light Blue, Dark Green, Light Grey. Powdered RIT— for boiling heavy materials Dark Green, Yellow, Purple, Royal Blue, Copenhagen Blue, Navy Blue, Royal Green, Brown, Black, Scarlet, Cardinal, Dark Brown. wBiTS sera W a oe Bi, petton heavy woolens Chicago Los Angeles SUNBEAM CHEMICAL COMPANY (A Corporation) Cable, Wis. New York Paris London Makers of OZOL—the Superior Antiseptic, Disinfectant and Germicide

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rH \ es _— HOME JOURNAL 171

I Fruit and Vegetable Fritter Entrées , ae By Harriet Ellsworth Coates - MAKE the batter for either the fruit or the vegetable fritters put two tablespoonfuls of olive oil into a coffee cup and fill it with warm water; add the well-beaten yolks of two eggs, teaspoonful of grated. lemon rind, a little salt, and enough flour sifted with half a tea- spoonful of baking powder to make a soft smooth batter. Let stand for two hours; then fold in the stiffly beaten a tablespoonful of sugar, a whites of the eggs.

Frosted Cherry Fritters

FROSTEDCHERRY FRITTERS. Re- move the stones from canned cherries and in their places put blanched filberts to preserve the shape. Dip in the bat- ter, fry in hot fat, drain on paper, and rollin powdered sugar. Insert a wooden toothpick on the stem end. Garnish the dish with green leaves.

Celery-Root Fritters Tomato Fritters OIL until tender three bunches of cel- . ery root; pare off the outside and dip in fritter batter; fry in hot fat, and serve with the tender stalks of celery stuffed with cream cheese and paprika. Or minced peppers, red and green, may be added to the cheese. UT the tops from small, solid toma- toes, remove the seeds, and stuff the tomatoes with chopped green peppers, minced onion, bread crumbs and a bit of butter. Replace the tops and fasten with | wooden toothpicks. Dip in batter and fry in hot fat. Serve with cheese sauce. PO ONE LR spate ey? i, Rs Ge « “ ea we Yee ae li By ae Meals sabegs Recent erie Tessie

Apple Glazed With Apple Jelly ARE and core eight small sound ap- ples; cut the apples into small pieces; sprinkle over half a cupful of sugar, the juice of a lemon and a quarter of a tea- spoonful of grated nutmeg. Let the apples stand for half an hour, dip in batter and

fry in hot fat. Make jelly from the apple SS peelings and pour over the fritters. we LL jj - AN LLIN 2S

Apricots Royal

Pineapple Fritters, Fruit Sauce _ PRINKLE a little sugar, grated nutmeg and lemon juice over slices of canned pineapple; dip in bat- if ter and fry in hot fat. Boil the pine- WRN apple juice with sugar to a thick sirup NS and pour around the fritters. with chopped cherries and nuts. Fasten each apricot together tempo- rarily with a toothpick. Dip in the Ye] DI batter and fry in‘ hot fat. Garnish by be with whipped’ cream and angelica. TONE canned apricots and stuff ia 4 Fy 3 #

— Potato Fritters, French Style

i 4 EAT into a cupful of mashed } 4 potatoes two beaten eggs, wy | | two tablespoonfuls of grated < | cheese, three tablespoonfuls of ‘ |

flour, a pinch of salt and a little paprika. After beating hard let stand for an hour; then drop by small spoonfuls into hot fat in a sauté pan. When brown and puffed up, drain on paper, and serve very hot with pickled beets.

Carrot Fritters, White Sauce OOK very small young carrots in boiling salted water until tender. Drain, dip in bat- ter and fry in hot fat. Drain, and serve with white sauce. Orange Fritters EEL oranges, remove the white skin, part into quarters, take out the seeds, dip in batter, fry in hot fat and drain on a cloth. Sprinkle with soft sugar.

Corn Fritters Drop from a spoon and fry in hot fat. Garnish with parsley. For a sweet, serve with powdered sugar or maple sirup. While one of these fritters makes an accept- able entrée, they could really be served in larger quantities as the meat substitute. OR six or eight large ears of fresh corn, or one can of corn, use two eggs, half a cupful of milk and as much flour as will make a good batter. Add one table- spoonful of olive oil, salt and pepper and let stand for two hours; then add the corn.

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—— me THE NURSERY IDEA “If I had but three rooms, one would be a nursery,” said a modern mother who had learned that caring for her baby in a Happittyme Nursery had cut her work in half and had meant an endless amount of joy and comfort for the baby. Let us send you our booklet, Kiddie Kare and Komfort, showing a complete line of nursery and playroom furni- ture including time saving equipment for the mother and comfort for the child, from bassinet days to its teens. We will also send you the Happi-tyme dealer’s name in your town. , URBANA FURNITURE COMPANY, . Dept. S4 URBANA, OHIO NURSERY DURA TURE HOME JOURNAL LOLOL EOL LEO PE AER LG EEN So Pleasing and So Durable t is the wide range and restful beauty of the charming fifteen Klearflax one- tone colors that have chiefly interested the home makers of America. The fact that they are all linen and KlearflaX LINEN RUGS and CARPETING nothing but pure American-grown linen is the very reason why they have all of linen’s virtues. In them you find a thing of beauty that Wears; indeed that outwears other fabrics, and that in the Let us send our book, Rooms of Restful Beauty, telling how to make your rogns more beautiful. wearing affords such lasting charm. KLEARFLAXx LINEN RuG CoMPANY Duluth, Minnesota Boston OrrFice: 57 Merchants Bldg., 77 Summer Street New Yor« Orrice: 212 Fifth Avenue The Tea House That Provides a Living and a Profit Five Acres and a Iea House By Harriet Sisson Gillespie r | NHE experience of the“‘tea-house lady,” as she is called by the college youths who largely patronize this little way- side inn, is a good example of a woman’s courage in adversity. It shows also that home- cooked food is a money-making product. Five acres and a tea house, coupled with a natural gift for cooking, started Bessie Ho- mans Ward on the road to business success. With little capital other than her scrap of a farm, and relying solely on its products to supply her table, she has built up a business that nets her a comfortable income, despite the fact that she lives five miles from town and a mile from the trolley. After suffering a nervous breakdown for more than a year, she was one day informed that the life of her husband, a veteran news- paper man in a thriving town, demanded that he live in the country. Sickness had nearly wiped out their bank account. It was only after a prolonged search that the home seekers came upon the cottage of their dreams, a tiny cottage midway be- tween the college towns of Amherstand South Hadley, and as far away again from North- ampton. They were driving along the quiet country road, one fine spring day, when they suddenly espied the little one-story farm- house embowered in flowers, bearing a sign: “For Sale.” They stopped in front of the cottage, neither daring to look at each other for fear the other might not like it. Then, as the realization that their quest was ended burst upon them, they exclaimed with one accord: ‘‘That is the house”; and in no time at all the five-acre farm with its simple dwelling and staunch weatherproof barn was, by the payment of a small sum and the tak- ing out of a long-term mortgage, their very own, a simple cottage of modest pretensions, not so large but that it could be managed with- out help and surrounded by bushes of lilacs andhoneysuckle grown tall dur- ing a century of blooming. So far as the interior went it left much to be desired, but, looking at it with the eye of faith, the new owners were able to visualize their prize in the light of future plans, and they saw what their patrons see to-day: soft yellow walls with white woodwork, apple-green floors, tables painted the same, with stenciled clusters of gay flowers at the corners, scrim curtains, similarly printed, hanging at the windows, and chairs a mellow orange that blends charmingly with the old mahogany and quaint blue china. Guests Love to Visit the Kitchen HE kitchen is delightful, with its old- fashioned fireplace and quaint furniture. A drop-leaf dining table of cherry, which acts also as a serving table, and shelves holding old blue china, Canton and willow ware, nests of blue and yellow bowls and other dainty wares on which Mrs. Ward serves her famous chicken dinners, dress the room. The ancient fireplace is still used for burning logs, but its active days in the prep- aration of meals are over, two modern blue- flame oil stoves and a glass-front oven doing all the cooking for the tea room. It cost Mrs. Ward less than $200 to paint and furbish up the little farmhouse and make it hospitable. She did all the work herself, removing the old paper and smooth- ing imperfections in the plaster, then giving it the coat of soft yellow paint it wears to-day. A small unused room was turned A Corner in “The Lilacs” into a bathroom, and a sleeping «porch, occupied by Mr. and Mrs. Ward, was built on. A partition was removed in the dining room, enlarging the tea room, and a tiny room just back was fitted up as a library and rest room for the guests. A closet off of this room was turned into a lavatory. When the house was finally renovated Mrs. Ward invested a few dollars for a pic- turesque sign to let folks know that “The Lilacs” was ready for business. She then turned her attention to weeding the garden, planted meanwhile by her husband, with the help of a farm lad, and awaited develop- ments, She hadn’t long to wait, for soon a merry group of college youths “‘discovered”’ the place and asked if they might have din- ner. “Since then,” Mrs. Ward says, ‘“‘some days I have turned away as many as a hundred people. Fifty a day are the most I can take care of since I do all the work, only hiring the young daughters of farmers living near to help wait on table. Sixteen hundred dinners is one summer’s record.” Everyone Goes Away Satisfied _ ITH the high cost of living the farm makes it possible for us to give mod- erate priced meals. We serve no meat but chicken, and no one ever asks for steak after eating my chicken. ‘Sometimes I serve soup, but not always; usually salad with several fresh vegetables such_as beets, tomatoes, peas, string beans, carrots and quantities of Golden Bantamcorn in season. It is planted so we have it almost up to November and some of my guests like to make a meal of it, it is so sweet and tender. “We have our own asparagus bed and a strawberry bed that yields hundreds of quarts during the season for strawberry shortcake made with biscuit dough in the good old- fashioned way. When berries stop, peaches soon follow. ‘Our farm has been so pro- ductive this year that I have put up dozens of jars of beans, toma- toes, corn and summer squash with which to begin next season. Then there are a number of home-cooked specialties that people like, such as cinnamon buns, dough- nuts and English muffins. I never serve bread with my meals but always toasted English muffins. The latter is Mr. Ward’s specialty. He always attends to that. I ask one dollar and fifty cents for dinner and forty cents for afternoon tea. “‘A wild garden on the shady side of the house, with fifty varieties of ferns and as many wild flowers, a butterfly net on one end of the piazza and nature books on the table inside the front door attract nature lovers and make them enjoy a simple lunch- eon served under the apple trees. The old horse, the cow, the pigs, the chickens and the bees interest many more. “The house pays for itself and all our ex- penses. We are constantly putting in im- provements. Although we are five miles from a market it hasn’t proved a detriment. We’ve had an old horse that has outlived his usefulness and now his place is taken by a little car which we find a great help. We work hard, but the place is our own. We have our own life together here and go South for the severe winter months. We have no bills. People eat and pay and go and the rest of the time the house is ours. We can do as we choose, which usually means we begin to cook for the next day.”

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1920 HOME JOURNAL 173 TRADE MARK * ROQUEFORT AMERICA g CHEESE « STERILIZE D AMERICAN CHEDDAR BLENDED WITH FRENCH ROQUEFORT dg New and Def eee) Havor~ 8 Varieties se sigadiinatt neti : i ere than eight centuries ago, according to legend, a shepherd tend- oe a | ing his sheep near the village of Roquefort, France, left his lunch— Swiss Roquefort consisting of bread and native cheese—in one of the caves that abound vas Se in that region. Being suddenly called away, more than a month elapsed before his wandering flock brought him again to the same locality. To his great surprise he found the cheese not only well preserved but that it had - a new and delightful flavor. a From some such incident of chance the French peasants learned that by adding small Dressing ; : : : Y Small can Elkhorn Roquefort- particles of bread to the curd and placing the cheese in these caves to ripen they could 4 to 6 tablespoons Olive Oil produce a variety of cheese, mottled and marbled, and with a strange new piquancy all A pinch of salt. ° . ° 9 : ‘ A dash of paprika. its own —and they called it Roquefort. Pure Roquefort is made of sheep’s milk, and is Emuleify to 0 creamy consistency much too pungent for the average American taste, but in the Rocuefort variety of and serve. The above can be varied in amounts to suit individual taste Sufficient for four people in above pik _ KHORN HEESE TINS — 8 VARIETIES we have i. a skillful blend of the imported and pure white cream, producing a cheese of singular deliciousness, yet retaining the true Roquefort flavor. Elkhorn . Roquefort Cheese in Tins is the choice of the epicure—its creamy texture and perfect flavor never vary. (5 Cheese is such a valuable food, so rich in ele- in protein, or more convenient to serve—it keeps ments of nutrition, so wholesome, so pleasing to until opened. the taste that it should be served regularly and , f often. . P Buy a dozen—twelve tins will so thoroughly con- ; vert you to the use of Elkhorn that you will Elkhorn Cheese in Tins is a thoroughly ripened, _ never again be satisfied with less than this incom- carefully graded, skillfully blendedandcompletely parable cheese: sterilized product of our own rural factories. The ; : : parchment lined tin keeps all the original flavor Itis more economical —richer, takes less to satisfy. and goodness in—all impurities out. A suitable variety for every occasion. There is no food with which you can stock your _Ideal for motoring, yachting, hunting, fishing and pantry shelf that is more wholesome, none so rich __ picnics. Chicago —J. L. KRAFT & BROS. CO. — New York Send your dealer's name and 10c in stamps or coin for sample tin of i Kraft plain or Pimento flavor, or 20 cents for both. Illustrated **The First Hands to Touch It Are Yours” book of recipes free. Address 357 River Street, Chicago, Illinois.

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BURNHAM & MORRILL FISH FLAKES Are perfect for preparing any number of appetizing dishes at small cost. Cod Fish Cakes Fish Salad _ Creamed Cod Fish _ Fish Souffle B & M Fish Flakes possess the freshness of old ocean. We catch only deep-sea fish, keeping the choicest of full meated Cod and Haddock. ‘Skilfully cooked, only the firm white meat is sealed in air-tight parchment-lined tins. You will enjoy the ease atid economy of preparing a great variety of fish dishes that will delight the whole family. “‘Good Eating,” a helpful book of recipes for B & M Fish Flakes, sent free on request. Direct from the sea to you and immédiately obtainable. AT YOUR GROCER’S BURNHAM & MORRILL COMPANY 70 Water Street 42 Portland i“, “wt Maine * ‘ - > Packing and specializing in State of Maine Food Products '— the best of their kind—including B & M Paris Sugar Corn, B & M Pork and Beans, B & M Clam Chowder, B & M Clams, B & M Lobster. 8 pn Fish Flake Cakes To avoid a shade that runs crookedly— —make sure the roller is a Hartshorn. For on a Hartshorn roller a shade must run straight! The roller parts are of heavy metal, with clean-cut edges. They are assembled with watch-like precision. Smooth action and a well-wearing shade result — the shade hangs right and runs right, with no slipping or wobbling. Specify HARTSHORN when you order shades—it. will eliminate all your shade troubles. Look for the name Hartshorn on the shade wrapper. The spring is the Heart of the Roller. Harts- horn is the only Roller Manufacturer with his own wire mill; he can thus make the product up to Hartshorn qual- ity throughout. STEWART HARTSHORN CO., 250 FIFTH AVENUE, N. Y. TOMATO AND PINEAPPLE SALAD Skin and Cut Tomatoes Into Halves. Put Them Together With Chopped Lettuce Mixed With French Dressing. Marinate the Whole in French Dressing, and Serve Each Tomato on a Slice of Pineapple on Endive. Garnish With Mayonnaise Dressing and Parsley mi Spring Salads By Marion Harris Neil ' , J HILE salads, “bestrewed with let- tuce and cool salad herbs,” are eaten all the year, it is at this sea- son that they are particularly wholesome, and the normal appetite craves them in preference to heavier dishes. It was Pliny who advised the Romans to “eat cress and learn wit,” and his advice still holds good. With the advancing season one feels the need of an entire change of food; something crisp and cool is craved with a dash of acid in it, and the salad seems to satisfy that need. The common dandelion forms one of the most delicious salads when the first young leaves make their appearance, and if the sea- son has been warm they may be seen pushing their white leaves above the ground the latter part of April or the first of May. Cress combined with dandelion in the proportion of half and half and served with French dressing is excellent. Sorrel is a splendid blood purifier. It may be served alone as a salad or it may be served in combination with lettuce or cabbage. Owing to its sourness when served alone the vinegar or lemon should be left out of the dressing. Lamb’s-quarters may becooked like spinach, then pressed into small wet molds, turned out and served very cold with mayon- naise dressing. Favorite Variety Salad. Place four lettuce leaves on each salad plate; put a slice of hard-cooked egg in the center and surround with a ring of tiny pearl onions. On one leaf pile a tablespoonful of chopped cooked string beans, on another pieces of thinly sliced cooked cauliflower, on another a pile of ten- der cooked asparagus tips and on the fourth a few cooked peas. Cover each vegetable with the following Russian dressing: Grad- ually beat half a cupful of olive oil into one cupful of mayonnaise dressing; add two tablespoonfuls of finely chopped canned red pepper, one tablespoonful of finely chopped green pepper, half a tablespoonful of chopped chives, one tablespoonful of vinegar, salt and paprika to taste, and half a cupful of tomato catchup. Chill well and use. Dandelion, Egg and Cheese Salad. An excellent salad is a combination of dan- delions with cheese and hard-cooked eggs. Rub the yolks of four hard-cooked eggs through a sieve; add one cupful of chopped cooked dandelions, two tablespoonfuls of olive oil, one Neufchatel cheese and half a teaspoonful each of salt and paprika. Mix thoroughly and shape into balls. Place on crisp lettuce leaves. Garnish with the sieved whites of eggs and chopped parsley and serve with mayonnaise dressing. Cucumber, Beet and Cabbage Salad. In the center of a salad bowl pile some latticed cucumbers; surround with a ring of coarsely chopped cooked new beets and then with a ring of shredded new cabbage. Garnish with stuffed olives and serve with French dressing seasoned with chopped mint leaves. Combination Vegetable Salad. Marinate in French dressing two cupfuls each of cold cooked asparagus tips and tiny whole new- cooked potatoes. Drain and arrange in layers in a salad bowl which has been rubbed with a split clove of garlic. Between each layer add a few slices of cooked young turnips, cooked young carrots, peeled and sliced radishes, diced celery and sliced spring onions. Serve with the following Chiffonade dressing: Mix two tablespoonfuls of vinegar with five tablespoonfuls of olive oil and half a tea- spoonful each of salt and paprika; beat together, and add one cooked beet, one hard - cooked egg and a few chives, all chopped fine. Oh, Fudge! By Grace Maxwell little girl, and I made it for years before I learned a method which would give sat- isfactory results. I used to turn out every type of fudge but the right kind. I had sticky fudge which had to be eaten with a spoon. I had sugary fudge and grainy fudge. In fact it wasn’t fudge at all, but I called it such. This fudge always disappeared, owing to the fact that my brother used to devour everything in sight; and especially if it hap- | itte se making fudge when I was a pened to be sweet, or if it was called candy, he would eat it no matter what it was. As I grew older I was not satisfied with the results of my efforts which my brother thought so fine. My own sense of taste was not gratified. When I became old enough to receive real candy in boxes, I began to make comparisons, and decided to quit making candy or to do bet- ter. I set about experimenting, spending time and effort. These ef- forts, combined with the lessons in candy making which I have had in two different institu- tions, enable me to set forth the proper way to make fudge. This is a recipe which will give that smooth, creamy, de- licious type of fudge which melts in one’s mouth. It will be all glossy on top and neither too hard nor It Melts in Your Mouth too soft, but just the right texture. Accord- ing to my brother’s testimony, it is better than any which comes in boxes. Recipe for Chocolate Fudge 2 Cupfuls of Sugar 1 Teaspoonful of 1 Cupful of Water Butter or Milk 1 Teaspoonful of 114 or 2 Squares of Vanilla Chocolate lie the first three ingredients together slowly until they form a soft ball in water. Do not stir the fudge after taking it from the stove, but add the butter and allow it to cool. This is the place where many peo- ple make a mistake. They think it is cool when it is not. It must be cool in the center as well as on the outside of the vessel. When it is cool, add vanilla and beat it with a wooden spoon, if you do not wish to break a silver one. You will find that it is sticky, but you are to beat it past that stage. If it be- comes too heavy and is still sticky, you may add half a tea- spoonful of warm water, being careful not to add too much. Good fudge requires much beat- ing and the longer you have to heat it the better it is going to be. star ma.

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Copyright, 1919, R. L. W. Co. Makes our Heir 45 Look 4s Best ROPER SHAM POOING is what makes beautiful hair. It brings out all the real life, lustre, natural wave and color, and makes it soft, fresh and luxuriant. Your hair simply needs frequent and regular washing to keep it beautiful, but it cannot stand the harsh effect of ordinary soap. ‘The free alkali, in ordinary soaps, soon dries the scalp, makes the hair brittle and ruins it. This is why discriminating women use WATKINS MULSIFIED REG. U.S. PAT. OFF. COCOANUT OIL SHAMPOO | This clear, pure and entirely greaseless product, cannot possibly injure, and does not dry the scalp | or make the hair brittle, no matter how often you use it. Two or three teaspoonfuls will cleanse the hair and scalp thoroughly. Simply moisten the hair with water andrub it in. It makes an abundance of rich, creamy lather, which rinses out easily, removing « every particle of dust, dirt, dandruff and excess oil. The hair dries i quickly and evenly, and has the appearance of being much thicker 4¢ SURE its | and heavier than it is. It leaves the scalp soft and the hair fine and Wk \ VA i | silky, bright, fresh-looking and fluffy, wavy and easy to do up. You \ | | : can get WATKINS MULSIFIED COCOANUT OIL SHAMPOO at any a drug store. A 4-ounce bottle should last for months. If it hasnt the Signature, it isnt MULSIFIED”

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Posed by Helene Chadwick, Motion Picture Star COMBINATION CREAM ontee Combination Cream Jonteel, for making a soft, beautiful skin. Will not grow hair. 50c IRST: Cleanse face and throat thoroughly with a good cold cream.* Second: Before removing cream, gently pinch face all over. This will bring superfluous oil out of pores and help circulation. Don’t pinch so hard that it hurts. Third: Remove cream with a soft face cloth wrung out of very hot water. Fourth: While skin is still moist, apply Com- bination Cream Jonteel with finger-tips. Pat the skin gently, especially under chin. Occasionally dip finger-tips into warm water—lastly into cold. Notice how cool and refreshed this cream makes your face feel. Notice how eagerly the skin drinks itup. Notice how velvety smooth it leaves the flesh. Fifth: When cream is thoroughly absorbed, light’y apply Face Powder Jonteel. Add a touch ) Rouge Jonteel where color is needed. A New Beautifying ‘Treatment Try This Today That’s all there is. It will take only a few minutes, but an hour in a “beauty parlor” could not make you look fresher or younger. And you'll have found out what a wonderful beautifier Combination Cream Jonteel is. Thousands of beautiful women are using Com- bination Cream Jonteel daily, to beautify and heal the skin, to protect it against weather. They invariably use it before powdering, for it leaves such a uniform surface for the powder to cling to, and it keeps powder from lodging in the pores to cake and form blackheads or pimples. Stop at the nearest Rexall Store and take home a jar of Combination Cream Jonteel. Don’t put it off and forget—do it today. Sold exclusively by the 8000 Rexall Stores, of the United States, Canada, and Great Britain. Jonteel Beauty Requisites—Perfumed with the Costly New Odor of 26 Flowers *Cold Cream Jonteel, 50c Tale Jonteel, 25c Soap Jonteel, 25c Manicure Set Jonteel, $1.50 Odor Jonteel, for the toilet, $1.50 Odor Jonteel Concentrate, $3.00 (In Canada, Jonteel prices are slightly higher) = Face Powder Compacts = purse or bag. =Jonteel, 50c — A charming, handy form. of “powder, which- is daily -growing—more popular, The _ dainty box, aaa alc of powder “and -a pat slips =readily—into lesh;= White, and =Bru- nette.- Also-a fascinating -new-shade; especially—for = daytime—use,-““Outdoor.”’ hade “with. extreme care, yout oat-wil be-perie des—= ark—so carefully= ¥, andthe dllusion—of- Se PPATETTIT PARTITE TU STUEA FUT STASIS TTEETE SPAT TTPL ETAT ETT TEEPE TETED ETD do een Eee rt ti i esti i pilebatshigheisi tii: HPO he tit i i} i} ttetiietess ieliad VASDARBAALALAL AC AGdGaLULLAALDARERADEDLEEEEAGEL aE itaacetae tatha} UTUSVANNT TSU T TPR Ta —_me ~~ Mm 5 ~- nD A A = 8 = me —

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Two Breakfast Breads Photographs and Recipes by Harriet Ellsworth Coates

* ee ie Oe Graham and Raisin Buns -

Hominy Crumpets

GRAHAM AND RAISIN BUNS. Sift together two cupfuls of Graham flour, one cupful of white flour, one teaspoonful of salt, two tablespoonfuls of sugar and three teaspoonfuls of baking powder; then add one cupful and a half of milk and half a cupful of chopped seeded raisins. Divide the dough into small pieces, knead and shape each piece into small buns, put on a greased pan and. allow to stand in a warm place for fifteen minutes. Bake in a hot over. PPETTDDTVIATINATAT UTA T VU SvATi ETS PYESOCGUHENTE GTO TOFEUEPPOOEEEEEED Es ees cess. LOSS SSS SS HOMINY CRUMPETS. Sift together two cupfuls of flour, three teaspoonfuls of baking powder

j and half a teaspoonful of salt into a mixing bowl; add one cupful of cold, cooked hominy grits and = one well-beaten egg, and mix into a smooth batter with some milk. Put greased muffin rings on a p = greased baking sheet or pan, pour some of the batter into the rings and bake quickly in a hot oven. " When they are done on one side remove the rings, turn the crumpets over and brown the other side. Butter them and serve hot, spread with marmalade.

“April Fool” N° roguish pranks can delay this little miss. Hurrying home with her treasured package of Wheatena she completely ignores the April Fool joke planned by her playmates. Little Peggy’s love for Wheatena is no different from that of other children. They all say it tastes good and mothers think of the strength and nourishment it gives, building a foundation of health and vigor in the little ones. Father loves it too, because of the well nourished, satisfied feeling that follows a steaming dish of Wheatena

|| | Rice Pudding Extraordinary 2 By Efhe Paige

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tries and fancy creams we are apt to overlook the possibilities that lie in the old stand-bys. Nothing offers a better foun- dation for a delectable as well as a nourish- ing dessert than rice if the housewife gives thought to its preparation in varied forms. Rice Fluff. Cook one tablespoonful of rice in three cupfuls of milk in a double boiler until the rice has almost dissolvéd itself into the liquid. Add a pinch of salt and three tablespoonfuls of sugar, and va- nilla to flavor. Remove from the fire and cool; then stir in the stiffly beaten white of one egg and chill. Serve without cream in small glass dishes. A bit of jelly on top adds to the attractiveness of the dish. Chocolate Rice. Boil half a cupful of rice in two cupfuls of milk, with a pinch of salt, in the double boiler until the grains are soft. Pour into a deep baking dish; add another cupful of milk, two tablespoonfuls of sugar and a few drops of vanilla. Mix together in half a cupful of milk two tablespoonfuls of cocoa and one tablespoonful of sugar until smooth. Pour over the pudding and bake for half an hour in a moderate oven. Serve hot with cream. California. Rice. Cook half a cupful of rice, with milk, sugar to taste, and a pinch of salt, until tender. Flavor with the juice of half a lemon, and mold in cups. Serve in- dividually with a tablespoonful of preserved figs on top of each mound, and with thin cream. Rice Layer Pudding. Butter a deep bak- ing dish and cover the bottom with half an inch of hot boiled rice, tender and well sweetened. Add a layer of finely chopped apples spread with tart jelly, and alternate the layers until the dish is almost filled. Spread jelly over the top, pour two cupfuls of milk over the pudding and bake for half an hour. Serve hot with a spicy sauce. [: THIS day of rich desserts, French pas- Rice Surprise. Prepare rice as usual, boiled until tender in milk, adding sugar enough to sweeten, and flavoring. Add the well-beaten yolk of an egg to give color; then cool. When the rice is quite cool and thick, line buttered molds with it and fill the center of each with a spoonful of stewed fruit, coconut, jelly or raisins, and cover the top with rice. When served this will look like a plain rice mold. Serve very cold with fruit juice. Coconut Cream. Cook two tablespoonfuls of rice in two cupfuls of milk until tender. Add a quart of milk, half a cupful of sugar, and a little vanilla to flavor. Pour into a deep baking dish and sprinkle half a cupful of shredded coconut over the top. Bake for an hour in a moderate oven, folding in the thin skin that forms on top from time to time and stirring the rice so that it does not stay in the bottom of the pan. In an hour the pudding will be quite like cream, with hardly a trace of the whole rice. Chill and serve very cold in fancy cups. Rice Slice. Cook together half a cupful of rice and two cupfuls of milk until the grains are soft. Add sugar and a pinch of salt. Beat one egg until very light, fold it into the pudding, and cool. Have ready half a cupful of nut meats, half a cupful of seeded raisins and half a cupful of dates cut into small pieces. Fold these into the cool pudding and pour into a long loaflike mold. When very cold, turn out, slice and serve with thick spicy sauce. Spicy Rice Fritters. Mold boiled rice, sweetened and flavored, in a shallow pan. When cold, slice into half-inch slices; dredge with flour and fry in a little butter. As soon as one side is brown sprinkle it with cinna- mon, allowing the heat to melt the spice and permit it to penetrate the fritter. Serve on small plates, with a mound of grape or cur- rant jelly on each.

Two Luncheon Breads

Nut Bread

<< Cheese Scones for breakfast. It always Tastes Good want a breakfast food that pleases. Wheatena is cooked and ready to serve in three minutes. The Wheatena Company, Wheatenaville, Rahway, New Jersey. Z

You can’t resist the appealing flavor of Wheatena—so different. It contains all the nourishment of Nature’s golden wheat kernels and is a delicious treat to those who

Rust Proof 25 Year Guarantee SANICO The RUST - PROOF PORCELAIN RANGE 2 Complete Ranges in 1 INISHED in glistening, ever-lasting porcelain, in Azure Blue, Snow White, Dark Blue or Black and White, with heavy nickeled trimmings. As easy to clean as a china dish. Requires no blacking—simply wipe clean with a damp cloth. It is coated inside and out, even the oven and flues, with ever-lasting, six-metal Sanico porcelain. Built of Rust-Resisting Armco Iron. Will give a life-time of satisfactory service. Nothing ‘except violent acci- dent can injure it. ; It’s a full-sized range. Compare it with any other. You'll appre- ciate its convenience. Made in two styles—one burns coal and wood, the other, combination, coal, wood, natural and artificial gas. Write for a sample of this wonderful porcelain. Put it to any heat test. See how far it will bend before chippingor cracking. Please give your dealer’s name. Dealers everywhere are putting in this wonderful range. If your dealer’s stock has not arrived we will see that you are supplied.

Dealers—Write for exclusive agency proposition and for our profit-sharing p AMERICAN RANGE § FOUNDRY COMPANY NUT BREAD. Sift together three cupfuls of flour, three teaspoonfuls of baking powder, one teaspoonful of salt and one tablespoonful of sugar; add half a cupful of chopped walnut meats, one cupful of milk and two well-beaten eggs. Mix well and put into a greased bread pan; let rise for twenty minutes; bake in a moderate oven.

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CHEESE SCONES. Sift three cupfuls of flour, three teaspoonfuls of baking powder and a salt- spoonful of salt into a mixing bowl. Rub in a tablespoonful of shortening, one tablespoonful of sugar and half a cupful of currants and, when well mixed, make into a soft dough with milk and one well-beaten egg. Turn out onto a floured board, divide into two pieces and lightly press into two rounds; then, with a sharp knife, divide it into triangular-shaped pieces by dividing the round

560 Serusstte Ave., Minneapolis : , 4 4 f)) 1319 S. Michigan Ave., Chicago equally; bake in a quick oven for fifteen minutes. As soon as they are done, split hot, toast, and } fA, spread with melted cheese.

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HOME JOURNAL

O “05 Cookery at a Glance By A. Louise Andrea LL recipes for any one kind of food are cabinet or dresser, and a glance will show similar in essentials, but differ in you what ingredients you will need. details. For convenience in kitchen The abbreviations used throughout are : ge use, cut out this page, mount it on card- these: T means 1 level fablespoonful; t HAT a suggestion of daintiness, board and cut out the hole as indicated. means 1 level teaspoonful; C means-1 level charm and refinement there is in When you want to make a cake, hang this cwpful, using the standard half-pint measur- dreamy, romantic Day Dream card ona hook on the inside of your kitchen ing cup. Perfume. And the ‘same delightful fra- grance is presented also in the other Day Dream Boudoir Creations. Cakes

’ int Cornstarch| Soda Approxi-| 5.1). Day Dreem L Echo, —s oy : Fat and Flour, Salt| or Flavor- mate Filling Dream Perfume miniature and Face Kind | “Sugar | Fees ond \tehiee eas Baking | 204 Powder sample mailed postpaid for Spices -|Pouder Time | Ising 25 cents. Address Dept. P.

ica BUTTER- RAG 3 beaten 14 C flour, aim wt set tay Yellow cup LOAF 1 Csugar whites yt salt powder vanilla moderate|. “ONS “at Orange P *THREE- bv Cc eiaiie 7A oe 3t — 15 to 20 ar LAYER utter, yolks, | starch, 134 i an - STEARNS, erfumer BuTTeER | 14%C | 1 white | C flour, peer nA Wt peo aan DETROIT CAKE sugar Yt salt E orange s extract Grated 6 beaten “Sale gtr +SPONGE 1c yolks, | 1 C flour, hineactt, § oe 38 GEMS sugar — 4% t salt e lemon enaemen

2 3C fi butter our, and lard, Ytsalt | soda EGGLESS 1c \% teach dis- seeded | 50 to 60 LoaF A raisins min., cinnamon, | solved 4 a re clove, hege ans = moderate Cm “f i loseee nutmes milk 4C i, white 4 C corn-| 414 ¢ 15 to 20 vegetable| beaten “ee. in baking min., frost- t moderate] ing fat,1C | whites 1 powder sugar 4% t salt

almond

4 yolks %C beaten | 24 C corn- P tDevn’s | butter, | with 1 C] starch, 134], 4¢ 1t | Squares] 15 to 20 | Boiled LAYER 1C sugar, 4] C flour, poor od vanilla —_— p= = sugar —— 4% t salt intted 34 C w%C 1144 C flour r og 72 3 ’ Yy% 1 = at Pe butter, | 3 beaten | 4%C Lome 9g Rs Rl pk 4% 4 | ek 4 50 —— OAF 1C whites | cornstarch, vanilla as * sugar \ t salt powder] coffee Bn ’ moderate] ing

*BUTTER CAKES: Sift together cornstarch, flour, salt, soda or baking powder and spices; cream fat, adding sugar gradually, then yolks, beaten, and flavoring, and mix well. Then add the sifted ingredients alternately with liquid; add ingredients in ‘‘extras’’ column; mix well and fold in the beaten egg whites. {SPONGE CAKE: Beat yolks until thick and lemon-colored; add sugar slowly; continue beating, then add flavor and the stiffly beaten whites. Sift flour twice and fold lightly into egg mixture. Bake in moderate oven in gem pans, small layers or loaf. tDevit’s LAyER: Cream butter with 1 cupful of sugar; then add yolks, which have been beaten with 1 extra cupful of sugar until thick and lemon colored. Then continue as per general directions.

Cake Glazes and Icings

Kinds Sugar Liquid Flavoring

“oo 1 C sifted pow- 2 T water ? ph ay ~ ae ee * os \% t vanilla COFFEE GLAZE . 1c —- 2 T cold coffee 3 drops vanilla

ORANGE Gaze. | 1 © = _| 2 T orange juice

“ : PINEAPPLE GLAZE 1 C sifted pow- 2 T juice from 3 drops lemon 6) : ON writin a ee dered canned pineapple juice

er 3 whites, ee BoILeD IcING . 2 C granulated 1 C water 1 t vanilla beaten <n) Ga _ er i, : sale alae ae 2 beaten MaPLE IcING . 1 pound maple gC whites

u%Gc ry Poy *MocHa IcING . 144 ¢ ~ pees Strong coffee This cross section shows you exactly how = 10-11 T sifted a Wagner utensil is made—why it never } YELLow IcInG . powdered burns out or breaks —why it és better.

1 t vanilla 3 yolks

1 un- , 14 y t SOUFFLE ICING . 1 C granulated ‘3 T cold water % t lemon, 4 t beaten * ’ | vanilla white S olid M etal e METHOD: Glazes—Place all ingredients in saucepan; stir over fire until lukewarm; pour pa cake and set —_ in < —_ (door ar to ny Icings—Add wows to sugar — boil, ° without stirring, t avy thread; sl , int sate hite: , ina ¢ eat t See for yourself the features which conaiavany for apeeading, y threa pour siowly into Deaten white; a avoTing an ai to distinguish every cooking utensil of son Mocua Icinc: Cream butter and sugar and add coffee, drop by drop, to right consistency Wagner Cast Aluminum. Being cast “g Seek . . . ; + YELLow Ictnc: Add sugar to yolks; beat with spoon, flavor and use. Large eggs require in one solid piece, there are no rivets to more sugar. loosen, no seams to break open, no t SOUFFLE IctnG: Put water, sugar and unbeaten white in double boiler with water boiling A ” under and beat with Dover beater for 7 minutes. Remove from fire, flavor and use. Think What These Splendia. Welded parts and the metal is of thick- Features Mean! ness needed at all points of strain. sae 1—Heavy lugs, cast solid, no This explains why Wagner Cast Alu- Cake Fillings oe bail lug one solid minum Ware lasts “‘from generation 3—Easy pouring spout. to generation.” Pp 10! ome peak - And when you combine with this durability sible only in cast metal. and superior cooking qualities the most beau- 2% 6—Cool handle, non-conductor —_tiful designs and finish you have utensils that Caiiiianeis , | 4c % t va- ‘choco= 7—Erect, non-swerving, bail. are ideal from every standpoint. Wagner 5 milk nilla late, 8—Extra heavy bottom, thick- Ware may cost a bit more—but you never melted pe , or ei on have occasion to buy it but once. Ask your 74 c 1“ n é specia agner Silvery * wad coffee, t va- Distch olde the puted tench io dealer or write to us. Illustrated booklet MocHa .. ( %C *nilla 1 yolk an ideal utensil. on request, milk %C Rind 2 lem- LEMON ..| : “a ons, 4T | 2 yolks water lemon juice THE Makers of Wag- WAGNER ner Cast Alu- Grated MFG. CO. minum and ORANGE KC 4 C 2T rind of 4% 1 it Dept. 106 CAST ALUMINUM Wagner Iron AnD Nur. “juice. orange, 2t| © “88 . A De Luxe Cook- lemon juice Sidney, Ohio ing Utensils. METHOD FOR FILLING: Sift dry ingredients; add liquid and boil 3 minutes, stirring con- stantly; add egg; mix well; remove from fire. Cool; add flavoring and other ingredients and si 7 gain spread on layers. From Generation to Generation

Kind Liquid Corn Flavor Extras

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WitH the first shining days of Spring, And birds and flowers and everthing, My Kiddie-Kar gets very gay And begs me to come out and play. He stayed indoors all winter long Patient and faithful, swift and strong, And bore me up and down the floor A thousand thousand miles or more. He never balked, you may be sure, Or kicked or scratched the furniture, But quietly stood in his stable At night beneath my bed-room table. But now the sun is warm and high, Here come my Kiddie-Kar and I, Keady and eager to go forth | South and west and east and north. Up the smooth walk along our street I help him with my flying feet, Then lift them up and faster still, He takes me coasting down the hill. Round the corner as he whirls We see the other boys and girls With Kiddie-Kars both big and small, So we go racing, one and all. There’s one child in our neighborhood, I'm sorry for. For tho’ he’s good, He never has a Kiddie-Kar. I wonder what his parents are! Kei Kas} Be sure this mark is on the seat © 1920, by H. C. White Co. PRING time is Kiddie-Kar time. After being cooped up all winter the child is eager to get out-doors and ex- plore,—to get on something that has wheels and ride. Kiddie-Kar satisfies this instinct. | It supplies healthy exercise out-doors and in. It will not injure floors or rugs. It is the one universal vehicle for little boys and girls. It is perfectly safe, even for a baby one year old. It is close to the ground and almost impossible to tip over. There is nothing to pinch fingers or tear clothes. No sharp corners, no splinters—every surface is sand-papered. No adjustments to get out of order. No paint to come off. Among the five sizes there is one for every child, from one year up to 8. You will find Kiddie-Kar wherever juvenile vehicles are sold. REAL KIDDIE-KARS ARE MADE ONLY BY WHITE Made in five sizes: 0. 1—for 1-2 years $1.75 0.2—for 2-3 years 2.50 0. 3—for 3-4 years 3.00 0.4—for 4-5 years 3.50 0. 5—for over 5 yrs. 4.00 iddie-Kar Trailer 1.75 TRADE MARK REG. U. S. PAT. OFF. igher west of the Mississippi MADE IN AMERICA FOR AMERICAN GIRLS AND BOYS The only genuine KIDDIE- KAR is made by the H. C. White Company of North ; Bennington, Vt. In Canada, Canadian K.K. Company, ee Elora, Ontario. The name KIDDIE-KAR isa register- ed trade-mark; it is always on the seat. The KIDDIE- KAR is protected by four patents.

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a lhe Book ofa Clhousan

S OMEN in every walk of life find need of Reelastic. Here is the condensed experience of hundreds of women—in town and country homes, in business or profes- sions—who want you to know why they cannot get along without

€ se oy me Prige Contest Nugyr tors serie Fram widen 3 e States, Canwda aed Mezice during 5

oan si TRADE MARK REG. U. S. PAT. OFF. Write for your Free copy of this ‘‘Book of a Thousand The original Garter Elastic on a Key-Winding Reel Authors” American Made by American Mills Of course there are certain uses that you take for granted, but this book will open your eyes to many convenient little schemes for saving time and money—uses you never dreamed of. Get the Right Kind 7 A great deal depends on the quality of the elas- PO tic you use. Reelastic is dependable in service, first and last; stretchy and strong, it rebounds easily and lasts long—and it costs no more than the ordinary kind of elastic. Buy it by the yard, right off the reel. Or buy a full reel in a neat carton always clean, always ready for emergency. The American Mills Company of New York 438 Broadway (Originators and Sole Producers) New York City Makers also of High Class “‘Hamden’’ Silk Finish Hat Elastic— Round Cords, Flat and Vienna Oval Braids

What Other Women Have Found Out Paper Logs for Late Fires I turn my grocery car- tons into paper logs and always have one or two ready for instant use in open fires on chilly morn- ings when regular fires are not required. It takes only a second to twist a handful of waste paper into a compact roll and tuck it into a paper car- ton which, when full of tightly packed paper, will burn brightly for fifteen minutes and give out a surprising amount of heat. This serves the double purpose of fuel economy and the cleanly disposal of waste. Handy Needle and Pin Holder It may look as if your sewing machine had a sore throat, but pin or sew a thick piece of flannel around the arm of the machine to stick the pins in that ‘you take out as you stitch, or the needles that you want in haste for further basting. It will save much look- ing around for these useful implements. Hot Sand Instead of Hot Water Finely sifted white sand placed in a bag of closely woven material and that placed inside another bag, will, when thoroughly heated, make a good substitute for a hot- water bottle and will stay hot a long time. If Pictures are Incorrectly Wired If pictures jut out from the wall they are incorrectly wired. To avoid rewiring, and to make a picture hang flat against the wall, put a tack one inch from the top of each side of the picture, on the back. Wind a small piece of wire around each tack and the wire already on the picture and the trick is done. Double Driving the Flower Bed By digging flower beds early and getting the soil in good condition a crop of spring onions, radishes or lettuce may be raised without interfering with the plants which are to furnish flowers only. These vegetables mature early and the crop will be out of the ground by the time geraniums, coleuses or other plants are set out. It is well to ar- range the vegetables in rows, leaving space between them for the flowers. To Save Steps at the Stove The small oven which I purchased to save gas did not save steps, as it had to be carried to and from the storeroom. Also it occupied too much space in that storeroom. It is now arranged so it can be pulled to the ceiling over the stove, nor does it prove unsightly, although our ceiling is low. Two domestic science women, who visited me last summer, considered this a real discovery. One of them suggested that while some of the last preparations for the meal are being com- pleted, requiring the extra burners, the oven might hang at “half mast” as a warmer. This proved an added help. My Good-Cake Knowledge A good butter cake is smooth on top and evenly browned. Bursting and cracking in- dicate too much flour or too rapid baking. The inside of the loaf should be slightly moist but not sticky. The cake should be fine grained and of uniform lightness. Coarse- grained cake indicates a lack of beating, too low an oven temperature, or too much baking powder. Keeping Bits of Lace How to keep in good condition the little left-overs of lace and in- sertion is every woman’s problem. I have been able to keep my own uncrumpled and ready for use at a glance by placing three elastic bands around the pdsteboard backing of a writing pad and slip- ping the folded pieces underneath. ,

New Use for Guest Towels In my prenuptial and early married days I re- ceived as gifts many beau- tiful guest towels. As the size of my family increased and the laundry problem got more complicated, I found myself putting these dainty towels farther back in the linen chest. One day as I was searching for some soft material to make bibs for the chil- dren to wear at the table, the idea came to me to use some of these pretty guest towels. The material is soft and the quaint, embroidered designs of baskets, geese, wreaths, etc., make them charming for these mealtime necessi- ties. I cut the towel in two, shape the neck part, hand hem the cut edges, add tape, and have two dainty bibs from each towel. Stuffing for Summer Pillows We make the stuffing for our summer cottage pillows out of newspaper. After we arrive we cut newspapers into strips about three inches wide, crinkle them to take out the stiffness, then stuff a pillow cover with

them. The unfilled covers take so much less . space in the trunks that we save much valu- able space in packing. A New Tablecloth for an Old One Linen tablecloths used on round tables wear thin at the edges of the table while the rest of the linen is still strong. By cutting several inches inside of this worn edge a circular piece of linen will be obtained. Edge this with linen or other heavy lace wide enough to make the finished cloth cover the table top. The corners of linen that are left over may be made into napkins. To Save Salt After Freezing Ice Cream Empty the cracked ice into a sack, and, when the ice has melted, nearly all the salt remains and can be used again. To Dust Furniture Use the Right Brush Dusting furniture is not an unpleasant task if one has the right tools to work with. For fine upholstery and carvings use a soft pointed brush; for heavy upholstery and reed furniture use a medium soft pointed brush; for leather use an oiled duster. Economical Pillowcase Ways One of my economies since the high cost of living has seriously affected our supplies is to buy pillow tubing and leave both ends open with wide hems, having the slips longer than the pillows. When laundered they are not always creased in the same place, as with the usual pillow slip, and wear is more evenly distributed. I make sheets with hems of equal width at top and bottom, thus pro- longing their usefulness. So You Won’t Have to “ Think” Keep somewhere in your desk a list of things to be put into your suitcase when you are suddenly called away. It will also serve you, when packing, to remember just the articles you must have on a short journey. To Relight Burned Matches There is nothing new in using burned matches, but it is new to save match and fingers at the same time. Place the burned match in a small pair of pincers. One can thus reach the gas under a boiling pan. The match will not drop out and may be used several times. Talking-Machine Needles Instead of Clips My husband discovered that used talking-machine needles are fully as convenient as pins oF clips for fastening notes and papers together.

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Cook Perfectly in 10 to 15 Minutes Banish all the old troubles and sighs over preparing good oat cereal. Use Armour’s Oats—wholesome, nutritious, fine flavored. You’ll find they are wonderful oats that cook properly in a very short period. Note the large, white flakes! They are rolled thin by our distinctive process. That is why they absorb the boiling water immediately and cook perfectly in 10 to 15 minutes. ARMOURSS OATS Easy to Cook and Rich in Flavor

aa Think of the convenience! Put them on the stove vith. |e when you start breakfast and they’re ready to serve soft | just when you want them. You know what such a and | nted |e saving of fuel and time means these days. You'll be happily surprised when you note the worth-while recipes on every package. Directions for making so many delicious Oat dishes—Muffins, Gems, Cookies and many others! ee ed A CS A Ge A ED EL ED SE a «tle oe ae He Ee ae ae EE OP a oe OD ee OO OOD Pe Te eee 2 eee we wee = ae ee ee se ee ee ew Ask your grocer for Armour’s Oats. Manufactured by Armour Grain Company, Chicago

Makers of Corn Flakes, Pancake Flour, Macaroni, Spaghetti and Noodles } ist of | n you serve | t the ey.

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Page 186

HOME JOUR ace © aS There is time. °e 9s Sa 0 0 wiles. oC ses PH =~? every outing. of doors. sage complexion is surrounded d by enemies. There is that in- J ward enemy that shines the face. There is the tricksy breeze that dries and dulls the unprotected skin. There is dust that clogs the pores. Each one of these wicked little foes is striving morning, noon and night to ruin your good looks. Be always on your guard against their XPOSURE to wind, sunlight and dust coarsens your skin. Skin specialists say that you can pro- tect your complexion from this injury by applying a protective cream before Of course, you cannot apply a cold cream before going out—cold cream leaves your face too oily. Lightly touch your face and hands with Pond’s Vanishing Cream. It is made precisely for daytime and eve- ning use. It has not a bit of oil in it, so it cannot make your face shine. In this way you can keep your face appealingly soft and smooth no mat- ter how much time you spend out OU never can tell when that treacherous enemy, an ugly glis- ten, will creep upon you unawares and make you look your worst. This cannot happen if you powder in ‘such a way that it will last. You cannot expect too much of powder. The right powder foun- dation is essential if you are to stay Before retiring remove the dust that is lodged f deep in the pores with a cream with an oil base —Pond’s Cold Cream To foil wind, sun and dust, use a bit of Pond’s powdered. For this you cannot use YOUR SKIN NEEDS TWO CREAMS the face. . FREE SAMPLE TUBES Mail this Coupon Every skin needs two creams. a cream especially made without oil, so that it cannot re- appear in a shine. This is Pond’s Vantshing Cream. It has no oil and cannot make your face shiny even for a moment. It is based on an ingredient which is prescribed by world- famous physicians for its softening effect. tection from the weather, for a powder foundation and for freshening the skin at a moment's notice. On the other hand, for cleansing, for supplying a lack of oil, and for massage, Pond’s Cold Cream should be used. Its formula was worked out to supply just the amount of oil required to give it the fullest cleansing power, and just the smoothness to work well into the skin. Neither of these creams will fostcr the growth of hair on Ponn’s Extract Company, 138-F Hudson Street, New York Please send me free the items checked: Sample of Pond’s Vanishing Cream Sample of Pond’s Cold Cream Instead of free samples, I desire the larger samples checked below, for which I enclose the required amount: A 5c sample of Pond’s Vanishing Cream A sc sample of Pond’s Cold Cream ae iid a Street aa eee Vanishing Cream before going out The same greaseless Pond’s Vanishing Cream makes the powder stay on For daytime and evening Use it for pro- ~PONDS Cold Cream & Vanishing Cream One with an oil base and one without any oil % HOW TO FIGHT THE LITTLE FOES WHICH WORK TO MAR YOUR SKIN — a cold cream. The oil in it soon comes out in a worse glisten than ) 6 ever. ) Before powdering, rub a tiny bit ( of Pond’s Vanishing Cream on your : Then notice how smoothly f the powder goes on, how natural it face. looks. It will stay on indefinitely. } Until you wash your face it cannot : shine again. ‘ 9 mel is a subtle enemy. When your skin grows dull, loses its J cleanness, it is simply an announce- ment that the pores have become A clogged deep down with tiny parti- ; cles of dust. J To remove these, vanishing cream | is not enough! Only a cream with \ a good oil base will suffice. Before you go to bed and after a train or motor trip, rub Pond’s Cold Cream into the pores and wipe it off. It contains just enough oil to work deep into the pores and thor- oughly cleanse them. You will be shocked at yourself when you see how much dirt you were harboring. IME, too, seems to havea grudge against us. It is busy every minute, etching little lines around the eyes and mouth. You can erase these by massaging them away at night with Pond’s Cold Cream. It is especially made just the con- sistency to give a perfect massage. When you go downtown, stop at the drug store or any department store and buy a jar or a tube of each cream. You need never again fear the little flaws that ruin one’s ap- pearance. be kept at bay with a Pond’s Cold Cream massage é 0 Tiny deepening lines can | bs WE “See 2 Pp ee neers

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Democratic Princess By Eva Ryerson Ludgate

URING the Great War less was known by the average person about the condition of the Netherlands than about that of any other neutral country in Europe. Compara- tively few people, for Axe instance, realized that 4) its inhabitants suf- fered more from actual hunger than those of either France or Belgium. Its entire fleet of boats, sailing between its ports and those of England, were sunk by German submarines. Its great ocean liners in New York harbor were taken over for transport service when the United States entered the war, and its supplies were still further cut off when England en- forced the blockade against Germany upon the Netherlands. Yet despite the blockade it fed not only its own population but hundreds of thousands of Belgian refugees as well as the interned prisoners of the combatant armies on both sides. One of its statesmen recently said to me: “Few people realize that we have not only witnessed but actually experienced the hor- rors of war without any of the attendant in- spiration which participation in the war would have given us. We have had our army mobil- ized for nearly five years, and the effect upon our soldiers on the whole has been bad. They have had little to occupy their time, and a cer- tain share of moral degeneracy among many of our young men has naturally followed.”

Shaky Days for the Government T THE time I arrived in the Netherlands, in April of last year, I was much disturbed by the physical change which I saw in many of my friends. They were wan and thin; in fact, they looked as if they had suffered from a long and severe illness. Many of the aristocrats, whose fortunes had been swept away by the war, had at times.almost faced starvation. One of my friends said: ‘There were days, after I had not tasted meat for weeks, when an egg would have been the greatest possible luxury.” On all my four previous visits the country had impressed me always as a land of plenty. The people lived well; in fact, it was rather a problem to escape an attack of indigestion from the rich food which they served. But this year, while I found them as hospitable as ever, they had only the plainest food to offer. When the former kaiser took refuge in the Netherlands, world-wide attention was at once focused upon that country. Speculation was immediately rife as to the effect of his residence there. But even yet few people know how radically his coming affected the little nation. The week after the admission of the ex-kaiser into the Netherlands, it looked as if the Dutch Government would be overthrown; and the peo- ple who were loyal to the crown even feared for the very lives of the Dowager Queen Emma, Queen Wilhelmina and the little Princess Juliana. A lady in waiting to Queen Wilhelmina told me the story of the critical time immediately after the ex- kaiser was given sanctuary. “I shall never forget,” she said, ‘‘the terrible days when we feared not only for the government but for the very life of our queen. We members of her court and thousands of her loyal subjects were willing to give our lives for her, but we could not tell what we would be able to do. “The queen has been without question the best- loved queen in all the world, not only because she is a good woman and has ruled wisely and well, but also because we Dutch cannot forget that it was the Prince of Orange who gave three fortunes and at last his life to free Holland from the power of Spain, and, as you know, Queen Wilhelmina and the Princess Juliana are the last of his house.” The Queen Was Prayed For/and Cried ii Wilhelm II arrived in this country the people became terror-stricken. They said: ‘For four years we have striven to be neutral; and nowthat the queen has admitted Wilhelm, the Allies will say that we are pro-German and they will declare war on us. It was a cowardly thing for Wilhelm to flee to a country whose sovereign is a woman. Had a man been on our throne, Wilhelm would not have dared to come. The best thing we can do is to ask the queen to abdicate and declare our country a republic. Then the Allies will realize that we are not pro-German in our sympathies.’ “Slowly a week went by; no one knew what the next hour might bring forth. Sunday morning arrived,

Above is Queen Wilhelmina of the Netherlands Below is Princess Juliana and the queen, in spite of the pleadings of those who loved her and feared an attempt might be made upon her life, determined that she would go to church as was her custom, for she is a very devout woman. The clergyman that morning in his closing prayer earnestly asked that the queen might receive from God the wisdom and guidance for the perilous times through which our country was passing. As soon as the prayer was concluded the director of the singing announced that all would sing the royal anthem, and while everyone sang the queen stood and, suddenly overcome by emotion, the tears streamed down her cheeks. “When she left the church and entered the royal carriage the crowd began to cheer and, removing the horses from the carriage, pulled it through the streets to the palace. The next morning the burgomaster of The Hague issued a proclamation, calling on the people to give expression to their loyalty to the queen by hanging out their flags. At eleven o'clock a great crowd gathered in the park, and the queen spoke to them of her great ap- preciation of their love and loyalty. ‘“‘And so the tide that had seemed about to sweep Queen Wilhelmina from her throne was turned.” It has often been said that one can always tell what kind of king or queen is ruling by the members of the court. It is an interesting fact that the young women who are ladies in waiting to the queen are women who have perfected themselves in some profession. One is a full- fledged lawyer and another is a graduate gardener, having recently completed her two years’ course in England. Training the Princess HE trying days through which the queen passed after the period in November, 1918, when Wilhelm II found refuge at Amerongen, made her realize that her little daughter, Prin- cess Juliana, might never have a throne to sit on. So the queen immediately began to train her daughter not only to be a ruler but also a useful citizen, should the Netherlands become a republic. Instead of having the princess study alone with her tutors, the queen invited six other little girls to share her daughter’s studies with her. Last winter the princess joined a children’s choral society and sang in a double quartet at a public recital. This choral society is made up of. children whose parents are in every class of society. The ladies of the old Dutch nobility were greatly shocked when they saw and heard the young princess singing in public, and they showed it by the horrified expressions on their faces. “To think,” said one titled lady to me, “‘ that I should ever live to see a princess of the House of Orange singing in public! It is shocking! What is the world coming to?” There are few royal children whose birth was hailed with such delight as was the birth of Princess Juliana. The Dutch people knew that if Queen Wilhelmina failed to give them an heir to the throne, their country in the event of her death would be ruled by a German prince; and they knew that then the Netherlands would eventually become part of the German Empire. So the day when Princess Juliana was born the joy of the Dutch people knew no bounds. Men who had been bitter political enemies for years, when they heard that their country at last had an heir to the throne, embraced each other in the streets and wept for joy. The bells in the a church steeples rang un- y til it seemed as if they > ' would crack. A general o ORR , : i S laimed EIT holiday was proclaime s and the people from one ; end of the kingdom to the other danced and rejoiced over the news all night. Making Her Début i N THE great day . when Princess Juli- ana made her first public , appearance in Amster- ~ dam the people, who had gathered from all over the kingdom, began to take their places in the streets at dawn, gladly waiting long hours to see the baby whom they believed, with the blessing of God, would live to be their queen. It happened that the baby princess was fast asleep at the time the procession was to start; so royal outriders rode through the streets, announcing that the princess was very nervous and if the crowds cheered and made a noise she would be badly frightened. So the people removed their shoes and, standing in their stockinged feet as the sleeping baby passed by, jumped up and down and called in a whisper: “Huzzah, Juliana! Huzzah, Juliana!” A friend of mine who witnessed it said: ‘‘Tears of joy were stfeaming down the faces of the people. I have seen in my lifetime marvelous demonstrations, but never have I seen anything which equaled that. You see, all of a sudden the people seemed to realize, as CONTINUED ON PAGE 184

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Page 188

HOME JOURNAL April, 1920

Why Not ? ay 6212) / i,

BE FREE from nagging ailments as our soldiers are free! Weigh what you should weigh! Have a perfect figure! Be happy! Enjoy life! Be a source of inspiration to your friends. In other words, LIVE. When all of the vital organs are doing their proper work, and you stand and breathe correctly, disease germs, grippe and colds have little hold on you. ;

I have helped 92,000 refined, intellectual women regain health and good figures. I have taught them how to keep well. Why not you? You can devote just a few minutes a day in your room to following scientific, hygienic principles of health which I direct to suit your particular needs, and You Can Weigh Exactly What You Should I KNOW it. I have reduced the weight of 40,000 women and increased the weight of 40,000 more. I can do the same for you and at the same time strengthen every vital organ. My work has grown in favor be- cause results are quick, natural, permanent, scientific, and appeal to common sense.

Here Are Extracts From Pupils’ Letters: “‘The other day I weighed 120 pounds. When I first wrote you I weighed 106, I was so thin and weak and nervous, and now I feel rested and like a new being. Everyone tells me I look 10 years younger.” You Can Have a Good F igure

“*You have no idea how de- lighted I am. I have reduced pounds in three months, and everyone says I look so much better. My nerves and heart are so much stronger.” expensive gown with a poor figure. I want to help you to realize that your health lies almost entirely in your own hands, and that you CAN reach your ideal in figure and poise.

“*T have been lifted out of the low, nervous, depressed state I was in. Father says your course is worth $1000 to me.”’

“Just think of a thirty years’ case of digestive slug- gishness relieved by your ex- ercises in a few weeks. I feel like a new woman.” work.

“‘T have not had a cold since starting.”’ get it. “Mycirculatianisimproved, : telling you how to stand, walk and breathe correctly. my digestion is better and my complexion is very much better.”

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A Democratic Princess (CONTINUED FROM PAGE 183) they looked at the little, sleeping baby, that in her lay all our country’s hope -of inde- pendence.” Remembering that all her life she has known that she was destined to rule, it is surprising to find that at heart Princess Juliana is very democratic. Not long ago her mother sent for her and said: “Juliana, I have just received an invitation for you to attend a children’s party.” Juliana inquired who had sent the invita- tion and, when she was told, she said: ‘Mother, I am not going to her party. That lady is not just.” “Not just!” said the queen in astonish- ment. “What do you mean?” “Oh,” said the princess, “when I went to the party she gave last year she made a great fuss over me and, when the favors were given, she gave me a favor that was much more beautiful than the ones which she gave to the other children. When I go to a party I believe that all the children should be treated alike; so I am not going to her party.” The queen thought for a moment. Then she said: “It was very kind of the lady to invite you again. Suppose I write to her and say that you will accept her invitation with pleasure, providing you are treated exactly as the other little girls are. Will that do?” “Tf she will not fuss over me,” the little princess replied, “and will treat me just like the other girls, I will go.” The lady who gave the party told the story. Her Hatred of Form and Ceremony RINCESS JULIANA is like any normal child in her intense hatred of form and ceremony. On one occasion she was told that she was to be presented to an ambassa- dor who had just arrived at the Dutch court, and that she should bow three times and shake hands with his excellency. When she was introduced Juliana shook hands with the ambassador and bowed once, remarking as she ran out of the room: “‘Onceis enough.” Princess Juliana already speaks several languages, but she has been taught that the Dutch language is the most beautiful of all. One day the queen invited the daughter of a gentleman who had been attached to another court for years as Dutch ambassador -o come to the palace to play with the princess. Not long after she arrived the princess discovered that while her guest could speak French beautifully, she knew hardly a word of her native tongue. The little princess told her mother, and the following morning the former ambas- peas received a letter from the queen, which read: I regret to say that I cannot invite your little daughter to play with Juliana again until she can speak her own language, which is the Dutch language. Needless to say, the little girl was promptly tatight to speak Dutch. Having Fun at a Skating Rink X& THE little princess is very fond of skat- ing, her mother, following out her new plan of letting her mix with the people, per- mitted her for the first time to go to a skat- ing rink. This pleased her very much, and she decided that the time had come for her to skate with someone besides the members of the court, who were in attendance. Waiting until her governess was engaged in conversa- tion with a friend, she darted off and, skating up to a gentleman, said: “Sir, are you a member of the committee?’’ When he re- plied that he was, she caught him by the hand, exclaiming: “Come quickly! Let us skate so far away my governess will never find me.” . Despite any ideas to the contrary, the people who are loyal to the House of Orange like to believe that the little princess will one day sit upon the throne, and the stories which they like best to tell are the: stories which prove that she will be a good queen. One story about her shows that while she is still a little girl, she has regard for the feel- ings of others. At one time her father, the prince consort, had on his staff a gentleman whom for some reason she did not like, and the gentleman knew it. When his three months’ service was up, he said to Juliana: ‘‘ Princess, I am leaving the palace to-morrow and Baron ,”’ mention- ing the name of one of her friends, “‘is com- ing to take my place. I suppose you will be glad.” The princess looked him mildly in the eyes and, not wishing to hurt his feelings, replied: ““Why should I be glad?” “‘This proves,” the friend who told me the story remarked, “that the princess will be a tactful queen.”

Greater Than Creed (CONTINUED FROM PAGE 23) Robert stared, but was stayed by the priest’s detaining hand. “ Wait,” said Father Sillery. “Let them get out first. We will follow the boy.” For a well man it was only a few steps to the Basilica of Sainte Anne de Beaupré. To the lad of the twisted spine it was an inter- minable distance. As he crawled, bathed in anguish, his approach became a procession of triumph. About him clattering pilgrims, not so halt as he, pressed and touched his garments and spoke encouraging words. Past the portico where priests sat, and the booths, where rosaries of many hues were reverently bought, the cripple writhed his way. Slowly and yet more slowly his crutches tapped un- evenly upon the flagging, for the lad was fast losing strength. Those who watched him could hardly breathe for fear he should fall. His two brothers did not dare support him. They could not disobey the indomitable patient. T LAST the lad reached the steps that led into the sacred church itself. He halted before the middle door. Above, the colossal gilt statue of Sainte Anne seemed to bend and bless. The rumor of his approach had flown ahead. Two priests, grave but with smiles as warm as the August sun, came down the steps to meet the gasping lad. The crowd of pilgrims parted, making a human aisle through which the sufferer should be carried. Every heart stopped as the boy, apparently in his last strength, leaned heavily against his brothers. “Tn the name of God!” “‘Courage!’’ whispered the priests. The crowd prayed audibly. There were only two other conspicuous persons—Robert Tracy, who stood straight of limb, white of face, with eyes that seemed to see for the first time in his young life, and Father Sillery, who carried in his bearing all the aristocracy of benignity and love. The one looked out of place in this misshapen multitude; the other, the reason for its faith. One of the brothers gathered in the crutches while the other prepared to carry the lad up. It was then that the shrunken boy plucked from his bosom a rosary and shook his head. His lips moved as he slipped one bead after its precious mate. HEN the lad threw up his head. His wan face shone. He straightened himself as never before and waved the crutches and his guardians away. Above him, over the door, Faith beckoned, carved in a compelling symbol. The cripple advanced. He came to the steps. Slowly he raised his foot. He had never done this before. His whole body was racked with agony. Could he lift that foot up? There was a gasping breath from the multitude. What a contortion! What super- human energy! What depths of anguish! What valor of will! The foot reached. The frail body followed after a harrowing effort. And when that first step was conquered the poor believer was wet as if he had been plunged into the Pool of Siloam. There for the first time in his life Robert Tracy under- stood the fiber of which martyrs are made and the power of faith. Then another step was stormed. It seemed to the agonizing watchers that its achieve- ment was as impossible as the carrying of Gibraltar. After an era of twisting effort that, too, was won; and before the pilgrims could credit their eyes he who could not walk, the lad, had passed between them, unaided, without support, into the basilica itself. Past the pyramid of crutches the boy lurched, casting at them a disdainful look. CONTINUED ON PAGE 186

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Sanitas can be had in grass cloth, leather and fabric ef- fects, other styles resemble expensive imported wall cov- eringsand thereare plaindull finished colors as well as tile effects. No matter what room you wish to decorate there are Sanitas styles to harmonize with the rugs, draperies and furniture. TheSanitastrade- mark on the back of the goods is your guarantee of quality —look for it. Address the Manufacturers of SANITAS Booklet and Samples Sent on Request Bookletillustratesroomsincolor and shows how much Sanitas is needed for any size room. MODERN WALL COVERING 320 Broadway Dept. 1 New York Greater Than Creed (CONTINUED FROM PAGE 184) Limply, done almost to death, the boy leaned against the last bench. In front of him the priests kneeled and prayed. Behind him his brothers sank to the marble, looking at their charge in incredulous amazement. About him the people dropped. Gaunt, straight, alone, Robert Tracy found himself towering above the worshipers and staring straight ahead down the aisle upon the golden statue of Sainte Anne. The church was now full. The priest at the altar had blessed the rosaries and rel- ics. The aisle was empty, and the pilgrims prayed. Every heart beat. Every soul waited. Each knew what would come to pass. Had it not happened before in this place beyond the memory of man, even of those who lay straight and peaceful in their quiet tombs! The color began to surge to the boy’s cheeks, and the courage that was almost spent returned in full flood. The lad cast a commanding: look upon his brothers, ca- reened from the seat and staggered into the middle of the aisle. There he stood swaying until he straightened himself into the like- ness of a man. With a rustle the people looked. Toward the statue of the blessed saint the lad turned his face. From his countenance there glowed an unearthly radiance. It was as if he had been bathed in glory. Between the praying priests he stopped. Slowly, slowly he walked, confident. Nearer and nearer to the shrine the incurable moved. Followed by a thousand blinded eyes, the boy crept on. But Robert Tracy touched the shoulder of the father in front of him. “I am going,’ he said. “I cannot stand it anymore.” “Will you not stay, my son, to see the power of God?” whispered Father Sillery. “T have seen it,’ answered Robert with quivering lips. Into the sunlight the young man went, taking with him something he did not dream he could ever possess. He left behind those who marveled that the cripple could walk. They beheld God; but he saw Marion Moore. BERT TRACY entered the dining room in time fora late luncheon. As he took the seat assigned to him the day before he felt unutterably alone. ‘It was as if he had only now undergone an operation and had just returned to consciousness, the phantas- magoria still volatile for a few seconds in his congested mind. Then a fierce resentment burned. Why had Father Sillery so tortured him? He had come for rest, and instead he had been racked. What right had that old man to single him out to witness excruciation? Then he saw those soft, benignant eyes and ——- “Surely,” he thought, “he had some reason, for he is a Man of God.” There was a rustle near the door, and the courteous “‘This way, madam,” of the courtly head waiter carried through the temporary lull of the clatter. Hardly seeing, introspectively busy, Rob- ert lifted his head and looked. It was a slow procession of three. The center of all pitying eyes was a tall, beautiful girl bent to a crutch. “Let me try, mother,” she said in bell tones that carried through the silent room. “T am not tired. I can walk alone.” She cast up at her mother a pleading look of such sweetness and pathos that even the head waiter’s lips quivered. But Robert Tracy had leaped to his feet. His eyes, still unfocused, were glazed. What hallucination was this? He took two steps forward and stopped. At the sight of the shadow the lame girl lifted her eyes. The two stood staring at each other as if they saw ghosts, while the whole room watched the play. “Why, Marion!” Robert cried hoarsely. He strode forward with his slow, space- devouring steps. HITE, Marion Moore watched him. In that quick, inclusive gaze she had noted the gaunt cheeks, the hollow eyes, the bony chin, the hair streaked with white. Then she knew. Steadily, like a woman who is sure of herself and is queen of the situation, she said: ‘It’s Robert Tracy, mother. I must sit down.” But to him she held out her hand: “Oh, Bob, how did you come here?” Hers he clasped very gently, her mother’s very formally, and her father’s very warmly. Mr. Moore was that type of man who car- ried so much honor into his business that men loved him, and so much deference into the home that women envied his wife. It was fortunate for Robert that Marion took after her father more than after her mother. Mr. Moore appreciated Bob at his true worth and understood his silent struggle. In that instant’s glance Marion had a like revelation and an insight which her mother had always lacked. “T came yesterday,” said Robert, trying to be as natural as possible. “It’s my first vacation since I went to work. I don’t know why I came here. I just drifted. How are you?” “Don’t you see?” Marion flashed at him a radiant smile. “TI can walk a little. It’s my first trip away too. I was crazy to see Quebec. It wasn’t a bad journey. We had a drawing-room, and the train was late.” ‘Have your lunch served over here, Bob,” Mr. Moore broke in. “It’s pleasant to see you again. I hear you’re doing splendidly.” “Not much,” flushed Robert. ‘It’s mostly grind.” , Marion’s eyes gave him a mute appeal, as much as to say: ‘Don’t look at me that way, Bob!” But he had seen what he knew would be there, infinite tenderness, and sweetness un- lacerated by pain and fidelity unswerved by separation. “What have you been seeing?” asked Marion. “Tf you don’t mind, Marion,” said Rob- _ert, looking a little gaunter than before, “T’ll tell you after you have eaten your lunch.” N HOUR later Robert Tracy and Mar- ion’s father sat in the round reading room that looked out on the terrace and the St. Lawrence below. Robert told him the whole story. As the elderly man watched the tense face, the glowing eyes, and listened to the eager words his heart warmed within him. “‘ What a mate for my Marion!” he thought; but he said: “Sainte Anne de Beaupré? It is- strange I never heard of it before.” ‘A million cripples went last year.” “You want me to take Marion on the ninc- o’clock train to-morrow?” “Yes, sir; you must take her.” ‘*And what will happen?”’ The older man leaned close to the enthusiast, catching the excitement. “T will go with her @ “Yes, I see; you don’t wish her mother to go along.” Robert shook his head. ‘She wouldn’t understand.” “Would Marion?” “T know so.” The two sat silent for a long while. ““My boy,” Mr. Moore spoke slowly, “I wish you were my son. There are only three things in this old world worth while, and I think you have all three. These are faith and hope and love. Curiously enough, the combination is as irresistible in business as it is in—other things.” “Shall I tell her now?” Robert asked with a grateful smile. “Let her find it out for herself,” Mr. Moore answered musingly. HE next morning the two men lifted the girl up the steps of the train. Then her father handed her her crutch and she hob- bled to an empty seat. ‘Sit beside her, Bob,” said her father. “‘T’ll take the seat ahead. How do you feel, my girl?” Marion laid her hand on her father’s arm while Bob looked at the caress with envy. He knew of the beautiful relationship be- tween the two, that depth of understanding that too seldom obtains between mother and daughter, father and son. It is an intuitive love that demands the other sex, even be- tween father and daughter, mother and son. “Oh, I am so happy and so excited. Just think, my first excursion! I don’t know where we are going, but I know it will be beautiful. Oh, Bob!” Her cheeks were kindled with joy and her eyes dancing. Any- one casually looking at her would think that here was the happiest girl in all the world— until their eyes discovered the crutch hidden by the window. They had entered the train early, and so far Marion had been unobservant of every- thing except her ecstasy in the trip. “I feel so well, papa—Bob!” she cried. Her eyes had caught a scene upon the platform. “Isn’t it terrible? What is that?” It was a sight more oriental than occi- dental that confronted them. Two men were carrying a girl of about twelve years old upon astretcher. It was easy to see that she could not walk. She was pinched and waxen. But her face, white as if it had been nourished in darkness, was radiant with an almost CONTINUED ON PAGE 188 =

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HOME JOURNAL April, 1920

— unearthly joy, and her eyes burned with anticipation. “They are carrying her in,” said Marion. “Oh, I must speak to her.” Not realizing that she herself had been the focus of a pity like that she was now expend- ing, Marion watched with maternal solici- tude. Again she did not notice that the silent crowd which observed the helpless cripple so tenderly had many a crutch and many a stick among them, and that one out of three walked lame. It happened that the child was laid on: the seat opposite to Marion. “‘T must speak to her, Bob. Help me out,” she panted in her pitying excitement. The two attendants had given way to the mother who was arranging small pillows for the child’s body: “The poor dear! Can I help you?” Marion touched the woman on her arm. ‘‘Where are you taking her? To the hos- pital?” The woman shook her head. ‘‘ No under- stan’. Frangaise.” “T can spik ze English,” piped the little voice. ‘It iz not hospitale I go. It is La Bonne Sainte Anne.” “Will they cure you there?” asked Mar- ion, still totally ignorant of the child’s desti- nation. In her imagination she saw a surgical ward and a terrible operation. “Sure!” was the nodding reply. “Bob,” asked Marion turning back to her seat, “‘where are they going?” “ Excusez moi, madame!” Marion fell back into her seat as a man, whose one leg could not touch the ground, labored heavily by. ‘ ‘) train was now being rapidly filled. Almost each pilgrim had his own personal attendant, some gentle, mild-eyed man or woman. It was a typical Beaupré crowd, in which the beautiful girl was so integral a part that she seemed a necessity to the whole; and yet she was the only one ignorant that she was a pilgrim. For the first time in her life she had come into contact with misery in bulk, and it smote her like a blow upon the face. Oh, such a world of suffering! The pathos of it! The horror of it! The hopelessness of it! For the girl, who would have taken them one and all to her heart if it could only mean healing, forgot that she was one of them. Her face went white. ‘‘Bob,” she asked, leaning close to him, ‘where are they all going?” Then she suddenly remembered. “Bob,” she whispered, wide-eyed, ‘“‘ where am J going?” For a long time the two sat in the rear seat, against the side of which the cripple had leaned only yesterday, forspent. With an intuition worthy of a woman, her father left them together. They did not speak. Indeed, the scene so familiar to that ancient shrine was too tense for words. In the dis- tance of the perspective the statue of good Sainte Anne gleamed with jewels and with gold. Her arms held the Child. Her feet were embossed with crutches, votive offerings, witnesses of a spiritual victory. And all the while the infirm procession limped up the aisle, until it choked it, each kneeling and patiently awaiting his turn to kiss the healing relic. The very air was redolent with reverence and vibrant with prayer. Never had the girl imagined such a sight as this. To her, religion had been an unseen faith. Here it was concrete. It was realization. It was life. To her the helpless had been hopeless. Here they were triumphant. For the first time God was not afar off. She felt Him. She knew Him. He was here. If all the world could see this, only the mad would be undevout. Leaning over, her face on her hands, with blinded eyes she watched each cripple kneel and kiss the shrine. ESIDE her Robert Tracy sat as if he were carved. It seemed to him as if molten flint instead of blood burned in his veins, each moment ready to congeal him into a statue. His emotion was so compressed that he could not move. He wasat the limit of his stoicism, and yet it never seemed so massive. He could not speak. By the tip of a finger he would not touch her. He had cast his last die, and the decision or the inspiration or the faith, whatever led her—it was hers. He did not see the pilgrims; he did not see the altar. His soul was compressed into a mighty prayer, such as Father Sillery might have cast at the feet of the Throne. Had the last cripple of the morning crept to his hope? No. And now upon her Greater Than Creed ‘(CONTINUED FROM PAGE 186) stretcher the little girl came, with bright beads between moving fingers and a joy upon her face. At the font her mother kneeled and sprinkled her child upon her forehead, even as the helpless make the sign of the cross. Then the procession moved on. As she passed by, she caught sight of the American girl and turned her head with childish eagerness while her carriers halted. “You shall follow me,” she whispered, and then passed on. But Robert could stand it no more: He had come to the end. He slipped to his knees. Sobs broke through his pent lips. Only one thing rang in his mind: ‘“‘And a little child shall lead them.’” He felt a hand tremble into his. He knew ‘that she was beside him, and that her dear face was close to his. “‘ Bob!” she breathed. “Will you go with me?” Robert strove to gain control. “Now!” she pleaded. “I want to go now.” So they arose and followed the child. HE ‘did not take his arm, but she leaned toward him as she limped with her crutch. The people lifted their eyes and stared. They were used to the suffering of the com- mon people. But what noble was that? And what loveliness intrusted to his care? For they saw a young man, tall, commanding of stat- ure, whose face was broken with emotion and who was not ashamed of the publicity of his tears. And they saw a girl, beautiful beyond their experience, but one of them, smitten even as they, and their hearts glowed. Both the young people went slowly up the aisle until they came to the middle of the church. They did not know that they were witnessed, for theirs was a pilgrimage of love and faith with all the world except God shut out. There they stopped as many had done before them in the pain of their advance. “Bob,” Marion whispered, “something has happened. I feel so strong.” “ All right, Marion,”’ was all that he could say. Then they went on. The crippled girl advanced in an ecstasy. It was as if she had never been so happy be- fore. All the dormant roots of faith seemed suddenly to have burst into flower. Her three years of loneliness and suffering ap- peared to have fallen from her like a mantle. She felt that there was nothing she could not do with Bob beside her. And the sacred statue gleamed near, and the diadem glis- tened upon its head. As the child could not kneel, it had been tenderly lifted that it might kiss the reli- quary. Now she had been carried past with a happy smile and with an encouraging glance at the following devotee. ) Spe my the railing the two stopped while all the church watched. Through each other’s eyes they exchanged souls for an in- stant. Then Robert took her by the hand and they dropped to their knees before the shrine, alone. What made the cripple wipe the relic ten- derly and then kiss it as the others had done? Surely hope is older than sect and faith is greater than creed. But Marion did not think of these things. She was at home. She was beside him. With what a grip he held her! It was strong enough to lift moun- tains. Why not her? She prayed: ‘Jesus Christ, for Bob’s sake! Do it for Bob’s sake. I know You will.” But Bob cried; he could not pray. You could not hear a rustle, though every seat was full. Then Marion arose. She arose to her full height. Reverent as the most devout be- liever she looked up into the face of Sainte Anne de Beaupré with moving lips. What did she say? What was her silent prayer? Awed, Robert gazed upon her. Then she turned. Her head was high, her body erect. She faced her lover. What was that glory upon her countenance, that triumph, that surrender? She took a step to one side. “Your crutch, Marion!’’ Robert bent far toward the altar to pick it up. “I forgot it!’’ said the cripple. She took it from his hands, leaned over the railing and placed the glorious trophy at the Saint’s feet. “Marion!” cried Robert hoarsely. She turned upon him a pitying, tender smile, as if loving him all the more for his biindness. “Come, Bob!” she touched his arm. “Don’t you understand? I can walk.” vy

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Protecting Furs Moths do not like printer’s ink. Double~sheets of news- paper, glued~ togetter’ bag- shaped, make excellent stor- age-bags. Such an economical way to solve the fur-keeping - problem! - — = ee ere is no end to useful things LeHages helps create’ Day in and day out, ready for instant use, LePage’s Handy Tube—so clean to handle— with its Stopper-Spreader— that’s never ‘‘lost’’—is wait- ing to mend for you, make for you and thus SAVE for you. There is really no limit to its mending and making uses. The porch furniture needs strengthening. There’s money saved! Making play- things for the kiddies Con- sider the joy of creating! Fixing wall paper that nothing else will ‘‘stick.”’ ‘‘A ‘stick’ in time saves nine.’’ After all, to mend and not spend is real economy. For holding-power, for purity, for all the essential merits of a perfect liquid adhesive, Le- Page’s has set the world’s standard for a half century. When nothing else will do but glue, nothing but the BEST will do—LE PAGE’S. Don’t be without a tube in the house. Your dealer has it. RUSSIA CEMENT CoO. Laboratory and Factory, Gloucester, Mass. eae «an Fama ae 2 et oe sare amy 5 SO SS SEE yeti Mending Porch Furniture It’s been stored during winter. The rounds and legs have loosened. A lit- tle LePage’s, the strongest adhesive known, will make it serviceable again. is ae | 4 j x At Bf : ° Making Toys for Children Toy-making ts fun for the grown-ups. It gives joy to the little ones. Show them howto ‘‘ make things” and thus develop thetr cre- ative genius. Gluing Wall Paper LePage’s really fastens loosened wall paper as f nothing else will fasten it. © There's a scientific reason for this, and—but just try it. That's the best way to ‘2a amas demonstrate the reason. he I Cs Sy AN aa | A o 4 ; Ome f ~ SPREADER thats never lost

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| What “A cid- Mouth” Does to the Teeth and How PEBECO Checks It N its destructive action on teeth, “‘Acid- Mouth” is like the drops of water that wear away the stone. It is a condition so mild that if it acted on the teeth only one day or one week it would do little or no harm. But when it becomes a condition of long standing—as it does unless it is checked by scientific treatment—then it gradually weakens the hard outer enamel of the teeth and forces cavities through which germs enter and consume the soft interior pulp— the very life of a tooth. ‘“‘Acid-Mouth”’ seems to do such serious damage in so many mouths that it is believed to be the chief cause of all tooth decay, and 95 in every 100 persons are said to have it. Now Pebeco Tooth Paste counteracts “Acid-Mouth” simply by stimulating the healthy flow of normal alkaline saliva. It is constantly flowing from glands in the mouth, and its continual play between the teeth and about the gums is effective in . washing away all foreign substances that might cause harmful mouth acids, tartar, and other deposits which are believed to be responsible for the loss of teeth early in life. PEBECO REG. U.S. PAT. OFF. TOOTH PASTE Counteracts “Acid-Mouth” Those people who have their teeth examined twice a year by a competent dentist and use Pebeco regularly twice a day seem to have the best chance of avoiding ‘‘Acid-Mouth”’ and its harmful effects. It keeps good teeth white and bright, and has a refreshing, tonic effect on the gums and the whole interior of the mouth. Its keen, undisguised flavor is one of its most valuable characteristics in the opinion of many discriminating users. Send for Free Litmus Test Papers and 10-Day Trial Tube of Pebeco Tooth Paste One of the Litmus Papers held in your mouth until thoroughly ‘‘Acid-Mouth.” Pebeco is sold by druggists everywhere moistened will quickly tell you whether unfavorable acids exist there or not. And a second paper used in conjunction with the | tooth paste will show you that Pebeco does tend to counteract Test

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T H E silat HOME JOURNAL ia t ne Mee ste 40% ©, oh, 008s *e0* aot 3 setety cet” a “te oe ee Needlework © THE BEAUTY OF KNOT-STITCH EMBROIDERIES FOR THE COLONIAL OR ANY OTHER BEDROOM: DESIGNED BY EDWIN C. FOSS NOT-STITCH Em- broidery Done in | White Thread on Un- bleached Muslin or in Un- | bleached Thread to Match f is Also Very Effective and i Desirable for Harmony of Shading With Other Room Decorations MONG the Accepted and Most Desirable Handmade Draperies for Bedrooms are the Designs in Cotton Materials En- riched With Embroidery and Lace. A Knot-Stitch Set is Distinctive, Dur- able and Easy to Make HOULD an Entire Set Not be Needed, the Separate Pieces are Desir- able, as the Pillow Scarf May be Used With a Dim- ity ora Piqué Spread. The Couch Cushion Would be Cool and Lovely for Any ‘ Summer Room N THIS Handsome Set, of Bedspread—Double Size—PillowScarf, Bureau Scarf and Couch Cushion, the Design is Worked on Heavy Cream-White Muslin, the Hems Hand Run and Edged With Hand-Crocheted Lace Ad SP hes se oe aes ™ ws hs Seer : MLS 4 ==> = Sosy, Fs ~~? 5 yi HILE Hand-Crocheted if Lace is of Course the . - Handsomest Finish, the Ready- Made Fringes are Fitting and Economical Substitutes HIS Enlarged Print of the Bureau-Scarf Design Shows to Advantage and More Clearly the Detail and Artistic Sim- plicity of the Work

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i S k [ Nn Gk Re) . ) i Shy Ml iif a NW iy Silks and Satins “T YON'T be so fussy—they say they're out of Skinner's — why not take one of these other silks?” “Because, my dear, I’ve had sad experience with some of those other silks, and at the present cost of making up a gown I can’t afford to take chances with poor materials. Ask to see the «Ski : i Ash te. cee the Skinner's always gives wonderful wear, so you Skinner’s “404” couldn’t induce me to buy anything but Skinner's.” All-Silk, for gowns, blouses, “Look for the Name in the Selvage” petticoats, skirts, undergarments. WILLIAM SKINNER & SONS New York Boston Philadelphia Chicago Mills, Holyoke, Mass. Established 1848 Wii, } i it i } | Boys’ Smart Suits —That Wear Like Iron At Last! Clothes for boys that wear like iron—yet have the classiest style and finish at a price no higher than the ordinary kind. Dressy clothes for ‘‘regular’”’ red-blooded boys, who run, jump, wrestle and ride their “bikes,’’ as all boys should to build body, brawn and brain into perfect health. h ! You can now cut the cost of dressing Mot CPs > your boys and know that they are cor- rectly clad—be proud of their appear- ance, and save money in the bargain. Ask your dealer for Steel Fiber NIK Suits *“Stand Roughest Play’’ These wonderful suits solve the boys’ clothes problem, because they have built-in protec- tion at the weakest point. Seat and knees and between knees rein- forced by an extra thickness and patent interweaving stitches. That’s the reason why Steel Fiber NIK Suits give twice the wear and cut the cost of dressing the boy. At Most All Good Dealers’ Made by SHEAHAN, KOHN & CO. CHICAGO Also Makers of “Young American”’ Boys’ Long Pants Suits Children’s Crépe Dresses DESIGNED BY HELEN ROSE 2333 AND-RUN tucks and organdie collar and cuffs, lace-edged, give just the light touch needed on this little dress of apricot crépe. The striped crépe dress, red and white, is very ap- propriately trimmed with tailored col- lar, cuffs and pocket flaps of white linen run with red thread. The pearl buttons are sewed on with red. OOL, durable and washable are the new crépe dresses for chil- dren, in becom- ing colors, for this excellent material is obtainable not only in lovely shades of one color, but in stripes of white and color, HE little touch that makes these dresses individual and appealing is the handwork in the finishing—in white tatting on blue crépe (above) and in the boy’s suit (left) of green crépe with cross- stitching in two shades of green thread, dark and light, combined with white. The hat, one of the new styles for boys, is of white straw with a white tailored band. 1140 ey

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: | “She Soap iy , Jor the all-over care o your skin O you know that an “oily skin” — a “dry skin”’—a “dark, sluggish skin”— cannot exist if the pores are kept healthfully active? And this activity does not mean the activity of the face-pores alone. The pores of the entire body need the care of an easy-rinsing, pure, responsive soap. Fairy Soap helps to make and keep the skin healthful and beautiful — it helps to overcome many unfavorable skin conditions —because it so perfectly takes care of pores. It removes excess oil, salts and acid matter which come to the pores from the inside. It cleanses away the soil and dust which lodge in the pores from the outside. When you cream Fairty’s pure, active lather into the tiny pores, it “creams itself out” again. Not the tiniest par- ticle remains in the pores to obstruct their beautifying activity. For a soft, supple skin “from head to foot”—for a clear, glowing com- plexion — let this pure, this active, this easy-rinsing Fairy Soap daily take its place in your bath—in your toilet. CHEK FAIR BANK comeany} Both Toilet and Bath Sizes © 1920, The N. K. F. Co. FAIRY SOAP “CHave you a little Fairy in.your home?” . —~ ty HaweEe YOu f . “ Ov - . g

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Ln the Well Appointed Home the kitchen—so important because of its influence on family health and happiness—is given the same serious thought as the dining room, living room and bedrooms, , The kitchen of such a home in- » dicates by its equipment of clean, be autiful silver-like mW ear- Ever” uminum Cooking Utensils eciation of the true furnished home. hat wear out “Wear-Ever” ig Utensil Company Mincton, Pa. are made by onto, Ontario.

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“Dress your Kiddies in Paul Jones Middies” and they will be comfortably, sensibly and taste- fully dressed. PAUL JONES MIDDIES are made to stand the rollicking play as well as the necessary laun- Needlework dering. Highest grade materials of absolutely In Dainty Things for the Baby fast colors plus workmanship that defies criticism are outstanding features of Paul Jones Garments. Paul Jones Middies were the first girls’ middies made—always first in quality. Sold by good dealers most every- where. Look for the label (shown below) in the neck. Paul Jones Garments: Middy Blouses, Middy Dresses, Skirts, Bloomers, Boys’ Middies, Boys’ Middy Suits. MORRIS & CO., INC. BALTIMORE BABY’S first short dress in fine batiste and Madeira embroid- ery—a cool little slip-on for sum- mer—with a three- inch-deep opening ye buttoning at the + =| back. The illustration + Shows two of our popular styles PA UL JONE Ss" | MIDDIES . ‘HE dia- gramsofthe patterns in the a ah, AX Ae ee crocheted yoke & LPNS Fr GZ. a and edgings. Smarter shoes for spring but still they’re comfortable! HOUGH this is a leghorn, any hat, mush- room shape, may be as prettily trimmed with lace and em- broidered flowers. 2 OIF) DARREL! WPS OED LOIN” VI), @D That’s the wonderful part about the new creations in the Red Cross Shoe. In the daintiest pumps, the smartest oxfords, the snuggest-fitting springtime boots, is cleverly hidden that famous “bends with your foot” comfort. Try on the new models at your Red Cross Shoe dealer’s today. Y THIS little dress of fine batiste the bottom is not hemmed, but cut in points which are buttonholed, then trimmed with filet-crochet points between and finished with picot edging. The yoke is applied with overcasting and edged with filet in small block pattern with picot edge, which also finishes the sleeves. Diagrams of yoke, block- edging, picot and point pat- terns are illustrated above. S) 822 BDIS®.. BO ®. INK and blue on either side of baby’s coach or crib slumber robe (knitted) satisfy the need for a boy’s or a | girl’s colors. ary re tn) es Pe ee ee eel = Mae Coo eee. oie Write for the season’s new style guide! Sent without charge. Illustrates and de- Model No. 464—The scribes the correct models in all materials “Lucerne.” Fashioned by —each model the standard of value at its hand at oy yd ee price. With it we will send you the name ph ie Po "had ved of your Red Cross Shoe dealer. Address pong springtime frocks The Krohn-Fechheimer Co., 722 Dand- will “go well” with this ridge Street, Cincinnati, Ohio. dainty patent pump ee Look for this trade-markon the sole Model No. 596—The “Hiker.” Its military Model No. 597—The heel and bending sole “Charmant.”’ So squcily ~ fairly coax you to walk. it displays the tip of its —— So smartly styled it is pretty tongue! So jaunti- ‘ of Russia calf in the rich ly flaunts the bow at its " y copper antique—it subtly trim throat! ’Tis 1920 suggests ‘‘on the Avenue” indeed—this oxford of N a- black ooze calf

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HOME JOURNAL Au night . all day . your skin never O you realize that your skin is far more than a mere covering for your body? It is a living organ with vital work to perform. And the whole beauty of your skin depends on how it works. Is it soft, supple, fine in texture, brilliant in color —a delight to every- one whose eyes rest upon it? If so, it is simply in its healthy, normal condition — the condition.in which everyone’s skin should be. Its delicate pores are working actively, freely — bringing it the oil and moisture that keep it soft and flexible—carrying away the waste products and allowing it to breathe. But if for some reason, your skin looks tired, dull—if it lacks the color and freshness you would like it to have— then you can be sure that it is not functioning properly. The pores are not doing their work—the little muscular fibres have become relaxed. This condition can be relieved —your complexion can be made as fresh, clear, and colorful as you would like to have it. For every day your skin changes—the old skin dies and new skin takes its place. By the proper treatment you can stimulate this new skin which is constantly forming into healthy, normal activity—you can give it freshness and color. How to rouse a dull, sluggish skin To correct a skin that has become dull and sluggish, use every night this special treatment with Woodbury’s Facial Soap: Before retiring wash your face and neck with plenty of Woodbury’s Facial Soap and warm water. If your skin has been badly neglected, rub a generous lather thoroughly into the pores, using an up- ward and outward motion. Do this until the skin feels somewhat sensitive. Rinse well in warm water, then in cold. When- ever possible, rub your skin for thirty seconds with a piece of ice and dry carefully. This treatment with Woodbury’s cleanses the pores gently and thoroughly and stimulates the fine muscular fibres of your skin, giving it tone and life. You can make your skin finer in texture Very often a skin lacks beauty from no other fault than a gradual coarsening of its texture. This condition, too, means that your skin is not functioning properly. The pores do not contract and expand as they should—and as a result they have become enlarged. Your skin has lost the smooth, fine look it should have. Don’t feel hopeless about correcting this condition. A smooth, finer textured skin can be yours if you will give it regu- larly the kind of treatment that its par- ticular need requires. Try using this special treatment for a skin that is losing its fineness of texture. Every night before retiring dip your wash cloth in very warm water and hold it to your face. Now, take the cake of Wood- bury’s Facial Soap, dip it in the water and rub the cake itself over your skin. Leave the slight coating of soap on for a few minutes until your face feels drawn and dry. Then dampen the skin and rub the soap in gently with an upward and outward motion. Rinse the face thoroughly, first in tepid water, then in rests from its work cold. Whenever possible, finish by rubbing the face with a piece of ice. Use this treatment regularly, and before long you will notice a marked improvement in the texture of your skin. Special treatments to meet the needs of each individual type of skin are given in the little booklet which is wrapped around every cake of Woodbury’s Facial Soap. Find the treatment that is adapted to your skin—then use it every night, regularly and persistently. You will find that the very first treatment leaves your skin with a slightly drawn, tight feeling. This only means that your skin is re- sponding to a more thorough and stimulating kind of cleansing than it has been accustomed to. After a few nights the drawn feeling will disappear, and your skin will emerge from its nightly treatment with such a soft, clean, healthful feeling that you will never again want to use any other method of cleansing your face. Woodbury’s Facial Soap is on sale at any drug store or toilet goods counter in the United States or Canada. Get a cake today—begin using it tonight. A 25 cent cake lasts a month or six weeks. We shall be glad to send you a trial size cake For 6 cents we will send you a trial size cake of Woodbuty’s Facial Soap (enough for a week or ten days of any Woodbury facial treatment), together with the booklet of treatments, “A Skin You Love to Touch.” Or for 15 cents we will send you the treatment booklet and samples of Wood- bury’s Facial Soap, Facial Powder, Facial Cream and Cold Cream. Address THE ANDREW JERGENS CO., 104 Spring Grove Ave., Cincinnati, Ohio If you live in Canada, address The Andren Jergens Co., Limited, 104 Sherbrooke Street, Perth, Ontario. April,

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3 a *, * ¢ 4 April, 1920 HOME JOURNAL ae he science iad Every Woman Should Know- III S A NATURAL and or- derly sequence to the purchase of a property and the starting of a home on a business basis is the commencement of a bookkeep- rl ing department —on a small scale, to be sure, but none the less important on that account. The first book to be purchased is a daybook, which will take the place of the customary cashbook and ledger of the business office and will keep a sufficiently plain record for domestic use. This daybook will require only one entry for each item paid or for any money received and will eliminate the necessity of making several entries for the same item. Bookkeeping is a simple process if the entry of an item paid or received is made in the book at the time it is paid or received. Use the left-hand pages for money received and make use of the whole line, for each entry must be an intelligent one—one that you will fully understand when the book is referred to long afterward. In the upper left corner of each column, on the left- hand side of each page, put the year; then under it the date—that is, the date the payment is made or money received. Then following on the line just what the cash is received from or the source of its payment, and then carry out into the column the amount, as “ June 24 To cash received from John Brown $25.00.” Method is Everything UL the right-hand pages for money paid out, the credit side of the account, and enter the item in the same manner as the cash-received item, stating clearly what the amount is paid for and to whom. When the pages are filled, write on the bottom line the words “Carried forward,” total the column and carry the amount forward to the top of the next page: “‘ Balance forward $234.” Get into the regular, methodical habit of making each entry in the book at the time it is paid or received and the book will become your most valuable asset —as the book of “‘original entries.’"’ The importance of having a book of this kind is that, in the event of any dispute as to the payment of interest on mortgage, taxes, water rent, money paid to a workman or what not, it will be accepted in court, upon proof that the entries were made as above, as evidence of payment. The entry, however, to become such first-class evi- dence, must be made at the time the transaction takes place; an entry made first on a memorandum slip and then afterward copied into the book will not have the same effect, and this would absolutely nullify the effect and desirability of the book and defeat its pur- pose. This book will serve many other good purposes. Combining several pages in the beginning for the sole statement of the expenses of the property you are pur- chasing, it will always be evidence of the actual cost and outlay on the property. If money is paid monthly into the building and loan association and the book at any time is mislaid or lost, you have the book of original entries to offset the book of the association, kept by the secretary, to show the exact payments made by you, if any dispute arises. If there is an opportunity for sale, the daybook will form an easy and practical basis for calculating whether the offer made would be profitable or a loss. Just one-twelfth of each year’s expenses, less what you are saving monthly by payments on account of the principal of a mortgage, will represent the actual monthly expenses of the property and will show just what you are saving over a neighbor who is paying rent for the same kind of a home. When the Book Will be Most Valuable GEVERAL other pages in this book should be set apart for personal expenses. This is quite an excellent way of keeping clear to all members of a family just how much of the money coming in is being spent for each one personally and whether it is on an equable basis or whether the scale is leaning more on one side. Children are so apt to forget money that has been spent for their benefit, and figures have a good habit of being exactly right. Brother may be made to see that it was he and not sister who had the By A. Florence Yerger-Hagan new shoes in the yaa | and that sister used the mend- ing process, and that therefore turn about is fair play in the autumn. But this book will be found most valuable of all when the home property has paid for itself out of the- building and loan association and the family find’ themselves with only taxes and water rent to pay during the year, a matter of fifty dollars up, according to the quality of the house and the location chosen. - What shall be done with the sum representing ‘‘rent money” now? A good search then enables them to purchase an- other small, well-rented property, after they have saved up several monthly payments, sufficient to put a fair amount in the new property. Several more pages may now be set aside in the daybook for the items incident to the management of the new prop- erty. Each of the monthly payments sent by the ten- ant should be regularly entered at the time it is made in the same manner as before on the debit side of the book, and any cash paid out for taxes, water rent, interest on mortgages, repairs, and so on, should be entered, as before, on the credit side of the book. A woman of large property interests, but of care- less business habits, sold some of her property and it became necessary for her to produce at the settle- ment the last interest receipts, tax and water-rent receipts, and so on. She hunted among a disorderly pile of miscellaneous papers for months and couldn’t find one paper pertaining to the matter, not even the checks which represented the payment. The mortgagee was dead and new receipts could not be obtained from the new holders of the mortgage. Everybody who appeared at the settlement was ham- pered by the failure of the woman to keep her affairs properly straight. Innumerable difficulties arose be- cause of her failure; delay was requested, but post pone- ment was longer refused, and the deal and splendid opportunity were lost. Had she kept a daybook or a book of original entries she might have produced it at the title company’s and have gained the much-needed delay to tide over the difficulties and keep the sale from being frustrated. The Bank Book and the Check Book IMULTANEOUSLY with the opening of the day- book should be the opening of a bank book and acheck book. Each entry in the bank book should exactly correspond with the entry in the cash-received column of the daybook. Each entry of a payment in the check book should exactly correspond witha similar entry in the cash-paid-out column of the daybook. The result is that, as the bank is keeping your ac- count at the same time that you are keeping it, and is checking you up at the end of a given time, you both should exactly correspond, any possible interest accruing, of course, to be added to your credit. This method forms another excellent habit, that of avoiding paying cash or carrying cash. Pay everything by check. If the butcher, baker or boiler maker fails to enter your cash payment _ through an oversight, there is a dispute which is al- ways unpleasant, no matter how it ends, and you separate finally—the one with the thought that the amount was never paid and the other fully convinced that it was an attempt to be paid twice. This dis- agreeable state of affairs may be easily avoided by the production of a returned check; with the butcher's riame scrawled across the back, all clashing is avoided. Besides, check payments avoid unnecessary pur- chases. They tempt not, and give an opportunity for reflection on fancied purchases, for shopkeepers to whom you are unknown will not accept your checks. The Next Valuable Book fe next valuable book for your household is your scratch book for the kitchen. In this book you record, day by day, each article purchased for the table, or for actual household purposes, as soap, sugar, and so on. Add the items up monthly and you may easily calculate your average daily, weekly and monthly outlay for living expenses for the table, and so on. This total will give you a basis to work on for the next month and also a record of actual prices paid for food, and will spur you to try to do better each month and each year. To make this department of your household com- plete you should have two letter files, one for the alphabetical filing of letters relating to all your busi- ness transactions and the other for the same filing of receipts. These files are almost as important as the deeds of your property, and each receipt should be kept as a permanent record. In order to ascertain at the end of the year just where you stand financially in your household ex- penses a general-summary book should be kept for the sum totals. This book should be divided into several columns on each page in some such way as this: General house- Rent (or monthly Clothes Car- Furni- hold expenses charges cf house) fare ture Some books have fifteen or twenty columns into which you can subdivide your various expenses. When the income in a home is a fixed salary which you know will be the only income for that year, the benefit of such a methodical habit of making entries for all expenses is obvious. When, for instance, you keep a column in the general-summary book for wood and coal and turn to the year preceding and find just what amount was expended for them, then you can estimate more surely the amqunt to be expended for these commodities in the current year. It gets you into the good habit of planning ahead and ordering and buying well in advance. Banking is Simple, Really NX THE end of each month take your bank book to the bank and have it balanced. The bank will re- turn you your book and canceled checks—that is, those checks drawn by you which have been presented to your bank and been paid. Each returned or paid check represents the receipt for the money and must be preserved. File each one opposite the stub corre- sponding to it in your check book and you can always find it when you require it for reference. By this sytem you have for each item paid out by you the returned check, to the order of the person or concern for whom made, with his or their indorsement on the back; you also have the entry in the stub of your check book made at the same time, corresponding with it; you have the entry made in your daybook, in turn corresponding with the check; you have the check-up in your bank that just that amount was drawn out against your account at that time; and, finally, you have the receipt indicating that the money was paid for that particular purpose. For money received you have the age | in your bank book, the similar entry in the books of the bank and the entry in the cash-received column of the daybook. aa cnt we ENN REE ect aera RRA CREEL RR EEN bites ears tie a ee eee as ee ed y a

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TLEE It Cant Leak Because it’s Made in One Piece —thats.why we guarantee satisfaction or your money back oo PRODUCT Kantleek Rubber Products 40 to $4.75 Only At The Sooo Rexall Stores Guaranteed for 2 Years HOME JOURNAL Bani — Cy Use It Either Way! See What the Air-Way Handle Does for You! To get the dirt from the corners, under radi- ators—from portitres, wall, window frames, mouldings, pictures, mattresses and tufted furniture just pick up your Air-Way and use the handle as shown in the picture. So Light a Child Can Carry and Operate It For rugs, carpets and floors you use the Air-Way just like any cleaner—but when you are ready for the hard places you simply turn the indicator arrow toward the handle, and in a few minutes the Air-Way handle has cleaned the house for you. The Air-Way is so light a child can operate it. Dealers : Write for Sales Plan See your dealer today fora demonstration —let him show you this latest cleaning marvel in operation. Tue Arr-Way Co., ToLtepo, OxI0 ; 1 The Visible Dust & Indicator } 2 The Suction Handle 3 TheSanitary Paper Bag 4 The Universal Joint— a veritable “Human rist 5 Self-Adjusting Floor Tool Her Last Affair (CONTINUED FROM PAGE 18) “Was I?” she gave him a questioning glance. “TI can’t imagine why.” Porter chuckled. ‘‘Oh, Clementine, Clem- entine, will you never learn to be a good sport?” —~ Clementine smiled ruefully. “No, I don’t think I ever will,’’ she admitted. ‘I hate to fail—even in a little thing. You were looking out of the window, weren’t you?” “Yes. Why. on earth did you want to bring Junior into the house?” “Tt was just an impulse at first; .then I wanted to make him, because he didn’t want to come.” She colored. “Fancy that baby’s standing out like that!” Porter picked up a magazine and made no comment. “You know,” Clementine said suddenly, “T can’t let him get away with that. I wish I had ” Her voice trailed off and her eyes became reflective. “Oh, it strikes me that you could have made him come a‘ “T don’t want to make him do anything. I want him to want to. You know”—and she brightened up with suddenly shining eyes—“I think I will.” " “You will what?” “Make him want to.” ““My dear Clementine, stop talking like a jig-saw puzzle. You will make him want to what?” “How dense you are! Make him want to do what I wish of course.” Porter whistled. “‘My word! A new gal- lant; quite the littlest gallant you ever went after, eh, Clementine?” “T don’t think I care for the way you put it.” “Tt was rather crude, wasn’t it? But come now, Clementine, fess up; isn’t it the truth?” “T’m sure it’s my duty ——” Clementine : began virtuously. But Porter interrupted her: ‘“ Duty— duty? It isn’t your duty; it’s your petty, plumed vanity that’s prompting you, Clem- entine. But let me give you a bit of advice. You are not a good loser; don’t start this.” LEMENTINE looked at him with a growing anger in her eyes. It was not the outspoken anger of a child, such as often swept over Clementine, but the still, curbed anger of a woman. ‘You think then,” she inquired in a level voice of dangerous sweet- ness, “‘that I couldn’t do it, that I couldn’t win my own child?” “Don’t play Cornelia. It isn’t a question of its being your own child. It’s a question of a new gallant being indifferent to your fascinations. You cannot bear that thought. ‘Vanitas vanitatum!’”’ Clementine rose, gathering her coat, her gloves and her fur together. She was laugh- ing, a pretty laugh of determined lightness. “Your words are by way of a challenge,” she said from the door. ‘ And I have a mind to accept it—just to prove to you that I am not so stupid as you think me. And if I ac- cept it’—the laughter died out of her voice—‘‘ make no mistake, I will win.” ““Clementine,’’ Porter told her solemnly, “you’d make a wondrous poker player.” “You think I’m bluffing then?” “Yes, Ido. Because you really can’t win. You are like a beautiful lamp, bright and adorned with sparkling crystals that reflect the light in a thousand rainbow-tinted prisms; but children—children, Clementine, prefer the sunshine.” Clementine held the head of her fox against her soft cheek. ‘‘And there is no sunshine in me?” she queried. “There could be—if you opened the win- dows of your mind and let it sweep through.” UNIOR and his mother were on the best of terms. She had never had personal charge of him, but she had seen that he had the best of care, giving him first a trained baby nurse, and later a nursery governess, both very efficient women. She arranged his bodily welfare with these women, planned each detail of his little affairs, his diet, his exercise, his play, and then saw that her plans were carried out. For Clementine was no inefficient beauty; she managed anything that she undertook with as much executive ability as if she had been plain. Occasionally she took Junior out with her; and often she stopped in the nursery to see him at his supper or to hug him when he was ready for his bath. She knew that she loved him, was proud of him; but it never oc- curred to her to wonder what he thought of her. Wasn’t she his mother? Or, rather, was not she his mother? And yet here he was actually displaying a graceless indifference to her society in the coolest way imaginable. There were otHer things he would rather do than have tea with her—than have tea with her! Why, it was—and Porter had been a witness to her snub! Well, of course, this made it necessary that something be.done at once. So the next afternoon she ordered the motor at four and took Junior down to the Plaza for tea, making a great time of it. And Junior permitted himself to be appar- eled in a black velvet suit—the lace collar of which he privately detested—and white gloves, and accepted the situation with a smilingly inscrutable equanimity. re WAS not exactly a successful tea party. Clementine helped the interested head waiter to divest Junior of his coat and hat— he divested himself of his gloves—and tucked a napkin under his chin. She ordered an ice for him and asked him if he didn’t like the music. He listened gravely for a moment and then said he did, and asked if there was to be cake; Miss Houghton always let him have sponge cake. Clementine said of course he could have a cake, and not a plainly un- interesting sponge cake either; this being a gala occasion, he might have an éclair. Then two of Clementine’s friends drifted up, and the ensuing conversation did not in- clude Junior. As the guest of honor he might have resented this; but he gave no indication that he did, beyond making his bow of fare- well even graver than usual. On the way home Clementine made a sparkling conversation. “‘And did you like those ladies, dear?”’ she asked. ‘One of them, the tall, pretty one with yellow hair like mother’s, has a little girl just like you.” » “I’m a little boy,” Junior corrected her. “Yes; but I mean just your age. And she goes to kindergarten and learns to make lovely things, and she sings such pretty little songs.” A bit more of this, and then Clementine sang one of the pretty songs—a jolly little air, all about a brave toy soldier standing on the bridge. And Clementine did his soldierly tones very well, as he challenged the popu- lace who crossed over the river to market. She looked down, expecting rapturous eyes and flushed cheeks and eager childish pleas for more. But Junior wascomfortably asleep. It had been a strenuous afternoon for him—tea at the Plaza, with chocolate éclairs—an un- usual dissipation. “‘Didn’t you have a bit of a good time?” Clementine asked, almost with resentment, as she bade him good night at the nursery door. “The zoo is a nice place,” Junior replied noncommittally. HE next day Clementine went to lunch- eon—just a small affair, all intimates, who had lunched and played bridge together twice a month for years. Clementine’s gown was new and smart; her clever comments on a popular play were received with gales of laughter, and her luck was unusually good; she was the center of much flattering atten- tion and she went home with a feeling of re newed self-assurance. Riding the wave of her afternoon’s suc- cess, she was all sparkling amiability at din- ner, and afterward, before she left for the opera, she sang Porter a song that Martinesi had just sent her. “He says it was written for me,’’ she told her husband, not without a bit of compla- cence in her tone, as if to say: “You may hold my charms lightly, but others know their true worth.” Porter looked puzzled. “‘ Written for you? Why, Clementine, that’s an old Spanish song se) “Oh, stupid! he didn’t mean that it was actually written forme. He says my voice has the ripple of a brook running through the green meadows; it fits the words of the song, you know.” “Oh, I see; yes, as you say, I am very dense. Very pretty,” he went on to com- ment. ‘These foreigners can sure ‘sling the English,’ as my friend Buck McCann says.” “Who on earth is Buck McCann?” “‘Oh, a friend of mine. He boxes with me at the club, to be exact.” “You have lots of friends I don’t know, haven’t you?” “Men friends; I go about mostly with men, you know.” CONTINUED ON PAGE 200 ll i VW 4

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200 HOME JOURNAL See Faded, Shabby Garments Turn New Fun to Dye Old Discarded Apparel a New, Rich Color with - “Diamond Dyes” You can not make a mistake. You can not risk your material. The Direc- tion Book with each package tells so plainly how any woman can diamond dye over any color that perfect results are sure. Save Old Dress Material Suits, dresses, silks, blouses, skirts, sweaters, stockings, children’s coats, also feathers, trimmings, draperies, cover- ings,—in fact anything can be diamond dyed into beautiful, up-to-date, stylish effects, no difference how old, faded, or shabby your material may be. Don’t fear you will spoil your material or give it a ‘‘dyed’’ appearance. Just use genuine ‘‘Diamond Dyes’”’ guaran- teed to give a rich, lasting color to any: goods, whether it be wool or silk; cotton, linen, or mixed goods. Insist on “ Diamond Dyes” You needn’t be afraid your dyeing will not turn out perfect if you buy the re- liable ‘‘Diamond Dyes,” proved right by the discriminating women of three generations. Ask for ‘‘ Diamond Dyes.” Accept nothing else. “Diamond Dye” Color Card Your druggist or dealer has a “ Dia- mond Dye” Color Card which will, help you match any color. Complete direc- tions, easy to follow, are in every package of ‘‘ Diamond Dyes.”’ d FADELESS | tving up to Their Playclothes Children take pride in keeping a good looking suit clean—and, besides, a good looking suit always stays clean longer than a faded and ill-fitting one. “Bread Winner” Play Clothes have all the smartness and neatness which come from expert designing, plus sturdiness, due to the fact that they are made of the very best tested ma- terials. The finish throughout is ex- acting, the manufacturer knowing full well that each garment is going to have to stand the strain of vigorous play on the buttons, buttonholes, arm holes, seams, bands, etc. You'll find the “ Bread Winner” label in each garment—it guarantees you quality. For tiny tots in creepers up to boys of eight and girls of six. Let us send you a copy of “ Winnie’s Way,” a booklet of new designs which tells how one modern mother solved her children’s playclothes problem and saved herself much time and labor. We'll also be glad to send you the name of the dealer in your town, for we want you to go see “Bread Winner” Play Clothes, to note the quality,—yes, and the moderate prices. “Bread Winner” Childrens Play Clothes LOOK WELL, WEAR WELL. WASH WELL THE O. L. HINDS COMPANY, 155 St. Paul St., Burlington, Vt. April, 1929 Her Last Affair . (CONTINUED FROM PAGE 198) “Yes; I wonder why.” Clementine’s voice was a trifle absent, but her eyes were watching him over the top of the piano. “Well, I.don’t seem to react favorably after a meeting with some of these modern women, with their cleverobservations on life and their worldwise eyes. They know too much; I’m scared to death they’ll disturb some of my illusions and teach me something I have not the least desire to know.” Clementine’s fingers wandered over the keys. “And how is the littlest gallant?’’ Porter inquired presently. ““He’s well. Miss Houghton is away to- morrow, and I am to take care of him.” “Can’t I help?” Porter asked. “Why, no; thank you.” “Do let me. You know,” he went on, “I am very interested in this latest affair of yours.” “T’m flattered. You are so rarely inter- ested in my affairs, as you call them.” ‘Oh, but this one is different.” He paused and added: “The young man in this case is really worth while.” There was a silence, while Clementine’s fingers wandered into a waltz. “ And,” Porter-continued after a moment, smiling at her, “‘as I prophesied before, your victory is by no means assured.” ‘There have been false prophets ere this,”’ Clementine reminded him, dashing into a noisy fox trot. BU by the end of the next afternoon she was disposed to look back on these words and regard them as sheer bravado. Junior seemed to be a most unresponsive child. It rained all the afternoon, and they sat in the bay window in Clementine’s room and played games on the bridge table. ‘“‘Let’s sit on the floor,”’ Junior proposed. But Clementine’s tailored skirt would not admit of this. She hadn’t played any of these children’s games since she was a little girl; but she found that she had not lost all her former skill. She loved games, and she always played to win. But Junior wasn’t much of a gambler. He preferred to build marvelous structures with his red and blue blocks and tell Clementine the intimate history of the people who were to dwell in these magnificent edifices. But seeing his mother’s lack of interest, he per- mitted himself to be shown the charms of dominoes and tiddledywinks. He didn’t really shine at either game. At five-thirty he greeted Miss Houghton with undisguised pleasure. “Come on, Houghty,” he said, trotting off down the hall at her side. “I’m so glad to see you; come on, and let’s play some games; let’s play some of my games.” Clementine stopped halfway across the room and stood with suddenly alert eyes. She walked slowly to the window and stood staring out into the late autumn dusk. Moment after moment passed, and still she stood with thoughtfully narrowed eyes, hum- ming softly under her breath. Finally she whirled about and ran across the room to her mirror. ‘‘Oh, Clementine, Clementine, you should have known as much!” Five minutes later she was out on the street, walking toward Amsterdam Avenue. Once there her footsteps grew slower, and she began to look in the windows of the small shops. She stopped presently before a window full of toys, and when she came out of the shop a few minutes later she had a small package under her arm. UNIOR had just ended his supper when his mother came into the nursery. In her hand was a bright red boat, and on her face was a frown of distress. “Tt’s this boat,” she explained to Junior as Miss Houghton left the room with the tray. “I can’t make it go; I wondered if you knew about boats.” Junior took the boat. “I know all about boats,” he asserted modestly. “This is a nice boat. Did Santa Claus bring it to you?” “No. I bought it to play with. But it won’t go.” Junior patted her hand. “Don’t cry; it’s a nice boat. I’ll show you.” Clementine followed him into the bath- room, all attention. She filled the tub half full of water and watched Junior’s prepara- tions for the launching with breathless in- terest. “But it won’t go,” she sighed. “Yes, it will; it’s a nice boat,” Junior re- assured her. He tucked the boat under his arm and, pressing his lips together, grasped the key that wound up the boat in his pudgy fin- gers. Clementine watched him with, real anxiety. Would his little fingers be able to wind it? It would be a real disaster should he fail. By dint of much puffing and protruding o/{ his little pink tongue Junior got the toy wound up. Then he leaned over the tub; there was a breathless moment; Clementine gasped and clapped her hand excitedly, and then— off went the boat, tearing through the water, bumping against the porcelain sides of the tub and banging into the sponge rack. Junior beamed at his mother. “This is a good bathtub for boats,’’ he told her. “Jimmy Gordon’s tub is too high, and his nurse is cross, and his mother doesn’t like boats; the red comes off on the towels.” Clementine nodded at these disjointed re- marks. She let Junior remove the boat from the water; and he showed her how to wipe it carefully. “You must,” he explained, “because it get’s rust on it if you don’t.” She nodded with grave comprehension, and after extravagant thanks departed with the boat. N THE next week Clementine didn’t see very much of Junior. She greeted him gayly each morning on her way to breakfast, she waved farewell if she happened to meet him departing for his constitutional around the reservoir, and she dropped in a couple of times to hear him say his prayers. The sec- ond time he himself had suggested it. “Tlike to kneel against you,”’ he said; and, just as a queer, unaccustomed thrill reached the regions of her heart, he added: ‘You smell so nice; just like a flower store.” As she kissed him good night, burying her face with a sense of physical pleasure in his warm, talcum-scented neck, he suggested: “Some day we could play with the boat again.” “Oh, yes,” Clementine answered. This was what she had been waiting for. ‘And the next day Miss Houghton is away you and I might—no, I don’t think we’d better,”’ she added. Junior sat up in bed. “Better what?” And as Clementine shook her head: “Is it a secret? Tell it to me; I like secrets.” “Well, it isn’t exactly a secret. But I was going to say, we might go to the zoo.” “Yes. Oh, yes,” Junior shouted. “But I don’t know.” Clementine looked away with every evidence of confusion. “You see—well, I don’t know anything about the animals.” “But I do,” Junior exclaimed. “I know everything; I'll tell you all about things. Let’s go; mother, please let’s go.” Clementine hesitated. ‘Well; -all right. But you must tell me all about things or I won’t have a good time.” “TUNIOR tells me he has a date to take you to the zoo,”’ Porter remarked a few days later, when Clementine picked him up at his club on her way to a dinner they were both attending—a rare occasion for them. “Yes; next Wednesday.” “Do you know much about the zoo?” he questioned next. “No; I haven’t been in the place for years. I wonder if it’s as noisy and as dirty as it used to be.” “Probably.” Porter paused to chuckle. “You’d better brush up on your knowledge of animals. Junior will put it all over you and give your vanity a severe jolt.” Clementine nodded soberly. ‘Yes, I’m afraid he will. I was going to drop into the zoo this afternoon—just to get some idea of what we were to see; but I had to rest for to-night.” “Yes; so that you would surely sparkle. I wonder what you are really like under- neath the sparkle, Clementine. I wonder if you are anything like you used to be.” “Of course. You think I play a part every minute, don’t you, Porter?” “T don’t know. In the last year or two I have grown uncertain. I don’t really know which is the real Clementine Dey—the viv- idly brilliant: woman who shines at parties or the fun-loving girl who used to like to laugh.” “But I like to laugh now.” “Yes, I know—but mainly because you have a pretty laugh, and you know it. And it’s infectious and makes other people laugh, and that keeps up your reputation for vivac- ity. Clementine,” he went on, the honest curiosity in his voice robbing Fis words of any intent to offend, “doesn’t this position CONTINUED ON PAGE 202 Sg? a en i

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HOME JOURNAL April, 1929 The Extravagance of Cheapness As Applied to Home Building HE important thing about any purchase is not what you pay, but what you get . for the purchase price. The ‘‘cheap’’ purchase is often the most extravagant. If you are thinking of building, the chapter, “The Extravagance of Cheapness,”’ in ‘‘ Te Story of Brick,’’ will interest you. It presents, simply and briefly, the relation of first-cost to final economy in home-building investment. People generally concede that Face Brick is the most desirable building material from the standpoint of permanence, comfort, safety from fire, and beauty; but many still believe it is ‘“‘too expensive.’’ As a fact, the many savings in the Face Brick house, such as depreciation, maintenance, repairs, etc., soon cancel the slight difference in first-cost over less durable, less beautiful materials. ‘The Story of Brick’’ is an attractive booklet, full of pictures and information that will in- terest every prospective home builder. You will probably be surprised to learn how little more a Face Brick house really costs. Send for your copy today. AMERICAN FACE BRICK ASSOCIATION 1125 Westminster Building, Chicago A-F-B-A USE FACE BRICK — it Pays ie KOZ LC AY pa Dos 3, 6 FZ ~: og a a a ~ ra ISN Ce 2 “4d > ys 2x —-~¥ in Only a starved skin gets dry and rough If Love is the greatest thing in the world, Youth is next—to a woman. You can keep your skin smooth and fresh and keep looking young by a little care each day and in using CREME ELCAYA., Begin today to make your skin more beautiful by this easy formula: A litle CREME ELCAYA rubbed gently into the skin; then if you need color, a little Elcaya Rouge spread care- fully over the cheeks before the Creme is quite dry; and after that, the film of Face Powder over all. CREME ELCAYA is the original non-greasy dis- appearing toilet cream. It was introduced first in New York in 1900. Today its purity and superi- ority are acknowledged throughout the world. Your dealer has ELCAYA and has sold it for years. Ask him. JAMES C. CRANE, SoLe AGENT, 148 Maptson Ave., NEW YORK Elcaya Rouge Creme Elcaya Elcaya Face Powder Her Last Affair (CONTINUED FROM PAGE 200) you have made for yourself bore you some- times? Surely there must be days when you are mentally out of key, when you long to be disagreeable, uncertain, even dull. Who are these people who can make you play a part all the time? Why don’t you try being yourself, subject to the.moods and variable tempers of a human being?” ““My friends wouldn’t like me.” “Well, my friends would.” “Oh, no; your friends demand brain; mine are content with cleverness.” “Your friends are slave drivers, Clemen- tine ss “And yours are highbrows. No, I didn’t mean that, not really. Oh, Porter, we haven’t wasted time in a vain discussion like this in years. How did it happen?” “Insatiable curiosity on my part. I was just seeking information.” Clementine laughed wickedly. “Beware, Porter. You know what you said about the modern woman telling you something you didn’t want to know.” Porter frowned and looked at her closely. “You are tired, aren’t you, Clementine? Oh, I wish you’d let yourself go just once.” He chuckled. ‘I wonder what would happen if you played a brand-new part to-night. Clementine Dey playing—just Clementine.” “My friends would think me insufferably stupid.” “And you could shrug and say: ‘Surely I may be stupid this one night after my years of scintillation !’”’ “Porter! Why, I never heard of such a thing.” “Tt’s the truth.” “Um. Well, the world doesn’t like people who tell the truth.” “And you must be liked; you must be liked, admired, adored; you must be first in an ever-widening circle! Your vanity—yes, it is your vanity, Clementine; you needn’t elevate your brows at me—is insatiable. It demands toll from everyone; no one must escape.” ‘*Now and then a victim escapes, how- ever,’ Clementine observed slowly. Porter looked at her quickly. ‘ Junior?” The car drew up at the curb and she flashed him a sudden, vivid smile: ‘“‘Oh— perhaps.” EDNESDAY was a lowering day. The sky was low and misty with the threat of rain; the trees tossed their bare branches about and the ground was covered with dead leaves. Clementine shivered as she and Junior entered the park. “Iam afraid we shall get caught in the rain,” she said. “Oh, no,” he answered. “See, the ele- phant has his head out—that’s an elephant, that gray thing with big ears and a long nose—and when he has his head out it can’t rain, ever.” He led his mother from cage to cage, laughing at her confessed ignorance and ex- plaining as they went along. They did all the things that are fitting to do on these occasions—fed the monkeys, ate pop corn, and rode in the pony carts. But it did rain. And Clementine and Junior rode home in a hansom, the magnificence of which quite overwhelmed Junior. He talked of his trip to the zoo for days and sought his mother’s society frequently to discuss the wonders they had seen that day. R Houghton laughingly commented on this: “Why, he’s gone crazy over you, Mrs. Dey, and it’s funny too. He’s been that way _ just lately—in the last month, I might say. Of course,” she added hurriedly, “he was always fond of you and all that, like any child would be of its mother, but now—why, you’d think you were the only thing in the world.” “Oh, I dare say it’s a passing fancy,” Clementine told her. “I get them myself.” Miss Houghton shook her head over the vagaries of youth. ‘‘I can’t understand it at all; it was so sudden, you know. Kiddies are queer, especially little boys.” Clementine smiled. ‘I don’t think little boys are queer. I think they—they—well, run pretty true to form.” “‘T beg your pardon?” But at this minute Clementine was called to the telephone and didn’t stop to elucidate. NE of the few games that Junior fancied was parchesi, the game you play on a board with colored disks and dice. It’s quite a complicated game, and Clementine mar- veled that Junior could play it at all. “Tt’s really quite difficult,” she told Por- ter when he came home one night and found them playing on the library rug. Clementine had on a Georgette crépe gown the skirt of which was wide enough to permit her to sit on the floor. Junior greeted his father absently and shook his dice box. ‘“That’s ten!” he greeted the result with a shout. “It’s doubles, so I’ll get another turn. That will send my man home. I’m beating you.” Clementine nodded and studied the situa- tion. Her turn came. Porter settled on the arm of the couch behind her to watch the game. His interest appeared to bother Clem- entine, make her restless, uneasy. But Porter became more and more absorbed. Twice he started to speak, but checked himself with a word half said. ““There—he’s home! I beat!’ Junior ex- claimed. He spied Miss Houghton in the doorway. “I beat, Houghty!” He gathered up the board and kissed his mother joy- ously. ‘You don’t play so good as you did at first.” “Yes, I do,” Clementine told him quickly; “but you play better.” “Tt’s easy,” Junior chuckled, hugging her tight in a final kiss. “T’ll teach you; we'll play to-morrow.” “Not to-morrow. Mother is busy ——” “Yes, to-morrow; we'll play to-morrow. Won’t we?” “Perhaps.” Junior trotted out, singing a song con- sisting principally of ‘To-morrow—to- morrow ORTER turned to Clementine. ‘Clem- entine, you deliberately lost that game. I saw you do it. Why?” She shrugged her shoulders. ‘Oh, I can lose occasionally; I’m learning to.” Porter picked up a paper cutter and ab- sently bent its finely tempered blade. He flung it back on the table and his eye met Clementine’s. “Well,” he drawled, “it would seem that you have made good your boast. You have ‘got’ Junior. I never thought you would. I congratulate you.” Clementine shook her head smilingly. “No, you don’t—not inside. Why don’t you?” “Because I didn’t think you’d do it.” “Vou didn’t?” “No. Was it—well, just exactly sport- ing?” “Tf you mean by not sporting it was easy, you’re wrong. It was the hardest work I ever did.” “But you succeeded.” Clementine nodded gravely. “T hope so. And the end more than re- warded the effort. For, you see,’”’ she went on answering the question in his eyes, “‘ you were really right. The young man is—quite worth while.” ° Porter came and sat beside her on the edge of the table. ‘‘Would you care to give me the—the details?” he said. “I’d like to hear them; and it’s not exactly mere curi- osity.”’ His eyes, as he looked at her, had darkened strangely, and his voice was slightly unsteady. “Why, I discovered’—and Clementine smiled—‘‘a simple, essential truth. I dis- covered that little boys are just pocket edi- tions of big boys. The same rules work in the same games; but you must play their games.” “And you didn’t like that, did you?” Clementine looked up. ‘But I did, Por- ter; that was the funny part. I couldn’t understand it.’”’ She opened her handker- chief and spread its sheer folds on the table. “‘T don’t know—perhaps I was growing tired of my games.” HERE was a long moment of silence, while a coal dropped in the fireplace. An organ grinder played somewhere down the street in the chill twilight, and there was the tinkle of silver as the maid set the table for dinner. Then Porter said slowly: “IT don’t suppose, Clementine, that if— you are tired—of your own games, you would consider trying mine—just trying them. Who knows, you might learn to like them. And I’ve waited a long time ” He didn’t finish, but Clementine felt his lips just brushing her hair. Clementine was still busy with her hand- kerchief. “T don’t know whether I could learn to play your games.”’ Then she raised her eyes and smiled at him. ‘But I might try; you won’t ever be able to say I’m a bad loser; I can promise that much.” Porter raised her hands and held them against his lips. SAC & we

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Pee oS ae Sac att RS ta & 2 KROEHLER DAVEN-~ The charm of a perfectly appointed parlor or living room is always emphasized by the Kroehler Daven-O. That luxuriously comfort- able davenport de /uxe which opens in a jiffy into an equally comfortable, full-size bed. The Kroehler Daven-O is a tribute to your appreciative sense of the beautiful and artistic in modern home furnishing. It is a wonderful convenience as well. For it makes the home seem more roomy—adds to your sleeping ac- commodations for family or guests. Kroehler Daven-Os are made in two sizes— long for large rooms, short for small rooms. Both have full-size beds—are fitted with a patented, sagless, folding, metal bed-frame and spring, and a thick, Kroehler-made, felt- ed cotton, removable mattress, high grade and dependable. Ample room for pillows, extra cov erings, etc., in folded bed. Made up in the morning and when unfolded at night is ready for use. Folds —unfolds—by one easy, well-balanced motion. Offered in a splendid variety of Modern Over- stuffed, Colonial and Period styles, luxuriously upholstered in.richest Tapestries, Velours, Leathers or Leather Substitutes. All woods. All finishes. But only one standard of quality —this the highest, and fully guaranteed. Kroehler Daven-Os are sold and guaranteed by nearly all enterprising furniture dealers. Go to your dealer to-day and see a demonstration. To insure maximum satisfaction, be sure to look for the Kroehler trade-mark in buying. It’s the sign of the genuine —of the original. A handsome, illustrated booklet, with the name of your dealer, will be mailed upon request. Factories at: Kankakee, II]. Naperville, Ill. KROEHLER MANUFACTURING COMPANY, CHICAGO, Binghamton, N. Y. Cleveland, Ohio ILLINOIS Canadian Factory: Stratford, Ontario

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eb Fragrance a Mpelaty a Talc ty Fragrance SINGLE whiff of the dainty perfume of the new Pompeian Fra- grance (a talcum) converts you to its subtle charm. A dash of this downy powdef will fall gratefully on your heated skin and add a new comfort to being well dressed. At all toilet counters, 25¢ € MO Cliath a1! \ar- 18161 wd } Es * < HERE are several times a day when an active person can wisely use a dash of Pompeian Fragrance. Its cool and refreshing touch will ab- sorb the excess moisture and lend to your person ‘the attraction of a new and compelling charm. THE POMPEIAN CO. Cleveland, Ohio REO Irae,

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DESIGNED BY BRENTON G. WALLACE & FREDERICK G. WARNER

and could able

of the r uP | y 2| KITCHEN | PPewm 2 OX106" t-+t- DOWN ae PORCH wd ee 6 200 LIVING ROOM . . 126x190" DINING ROOM ‘e 120° 126" Ss —" eee” ae BOVE is a very good type of house for the suburbs orsemisuburbs. Fora narrow lot it may be turned with the porch toward the street and the entrance at the side. The first floor is of local stone, which may be either white- washed or not. HE house on the rightischarmingly original. Its roof line, though much cut up, has been well handled is While the exterior is of wide clapboards it be developed in rough stucco. The closed-in porch is one most comfort-" pots in the house.

interesting. “ORE

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Second-Floor Plan of House Above By Carey Edmunds

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W0xI70" First and Second Floor Plans of the House Above BEDROOM ‘ctos ie 100 10 6" BATH Ae

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A Delightful Colonial House for the Suburbs, Whose Porch is Located at the Rear, Facing the Garden. Over the Main Porch is a Sleeping Porch TH & SON A Good Design for a Suburban Home

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The Decorative Screen By Ethel Davis Seal: Drawings by Marion Dismant The screen for the baby is im- portant from the moment he is given his first bath until he is old enough thoroughly to enjoy wak- ing from his afternoon nap to smile straight into the face of “Jack be Nimble” pasted for his delectation on the screen folded around his little crib. Mother Goose characters cut out of paper would delight the tiny tot in the nursery. These are shown below pasted on a screen of green burlap. Figures of all kinds may be cut from wall paper for this purpose. The covered screen, delicately tos-:d, is fitted for bedroom use. This one below, of blue, yellow and white printed linen, is edged top and bottom with a peacock brush-wool fringe. Wool embroiders the scrim screen lined with orange. mt pees gel +e Sanaa ges VERY woman just naturally loves a screen. Therefore she may count herself lucky that she lives during days when screens are making history, instead of those just passed when they were chiefly used as a camouflage for the family skeleton, which might be anything from a washstand to a clothes tree tottering under its load of what had overflowed the clothespress. And she may indulge her love for screens in any one“of a dozen ways. A screen may be used for a background. Frequently you have a piece of furni- ture, a table, a chair, a sofa, that does not look its best against the background of your wall; while it would be unthinkable to paper your wall in the heavy color or design such a piece seems to demand to set it off, the decorative screen, properly covered with some such material, richly dark, handsomely embossed, mayhap with the mysterious luster of uncut velvet, or again loudly singing with the har- mony of birds and brilliant flowers—the screen so happily adorned supplies this fortunate strength of background that is to be obtained in no other way and provides an almost architectural pleasantness of line that is distinctive. This is to be remembered when you have to solve the knotty problem of the long, unbroken wall so difficult to furnish prettily. Twist and turn your chairs and tables, hang your pictures as you will, your wall remains a bleak, uninteresting expanse that is truly crying out for the height and width of just the right sort of decorative screen. Even between two windows, with the screen placed straight against the wall, back of the most unostentatious of library tables, that part of ee Bare eo Bee ee On the left is a stunning screen cleverly covered with a richly toned wall paper. If neatly done, and edged with a tarnished gold gimp in which the tacks are invisible, this formal screen is quite handsome enough to grace the most beautifully dignified room. It may be done on the other side with a plain color or with gold, and the whole may be achieved at slight expense. The screen below is satisfactorily covered with gold grasscloth banded by strips of the printed linen upholstering the sofa. the room is immediately raised above the commonplace, and you are glad to hit upon an arrangement for height other than that of the hackneyed wall picture, which must of necessity be repeated in more thansone combination in your room. And in the room too small, or one unfortunately cut up by door and window openings or cluttered by poorly placed radiators, the screen may be stretched across a corner, taking as little space as possible, to form a properly decorative background for the piece of furniture which must be set cater-cornered to get it in at all. A screen of tooled leather, in blue and brown and deepest red, embossed in gold, if placed back of an over-small claw-footed mahogany desk does but add dignity and apparent size to the latter, and the room fortunate in such a combina- tion immediately boasts a more important piece of furniture than the CONTINUED ON PAGE 210 A blue velvet screen for the din- ing room (on the left) is embel- lished with plastrons of black velvet appliquéd with bright. colored cretonnes. A band of black strengthens the effect.

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The Lamp as a Color Note By Ethel Davis Seal: Drawings by Marion Dismant If the lamp shade is lined with a contrasting color, as on this rose and foam-green lamp above, the fringe may be two colored also, one layer under the other, as here pale-green fringe is hung back of the thick layer of rose fringe matching the outer color of the shade. Two effective novelties: Above, the glazed white-figure lamp ; below, the velvet-incased metal floor lamp with its peacock shade. Gold paper set in a painted wooden frame provides a decorative shade for a room of a certain type. And notice is claimed by the silver-painted wooden candlestick flaunting its scarlet candle—both directly above. On the left a Georgette shade is finished at the lower edge by two ungathered double ruffles of the same material, the outside one being shorter in length. r F YOU can visualize the marvelous color of an orchid lamp shade of soft satin lined with vivid peacock green silk; the piquancy of a small scalloped shade of fulled turquoise chiffon over silk a trifle paler, banded top and bottom with a brush- wool edge of green; the opalescent mystery of gray-green chiffon over the rose tones of dawn; the hidden brilliance of deep écru scrim, wool embroidered in brown, over a canary silk lining; the magnificence of the peacock; the parrot’s glory; the glint of dull gold; the sunniness of yellow; the becoming- ness of rose—and all these lamp shades atop bases that satisfy the soul—you will be seeing with your mind’s eye the charm- ingly modern combinations noted at random in passing through the various wonderlands of lamps, thus making their choosing a new and fascinating one for the woman who is creating a beautiful home. The old idea that a lamp is primarily designed to give light in dark places has become a mere matter of course in the midst of the constant flux of delightful possibilities we are growing daily to associate with the new lamps. We are learning to demand and to appreciate such factors as beauty of shape, a fine choice of materials, a decorative rela- tion between the lamp base and the shade, stunning color, and, whether we make or buy our lamps, we are learning to require a rich simplicity that is colorful and in good taste. As a color note in the room nothing can surpass the possibility of the lamp, for whether it is richly dull or brilliantly dar- ing, this choice depending upon the needed accent, in the daytime the color of the unlighted lamp brings out and intensifies the scheme of which it may be the strong- est note, or it shines forth as-a jewel against a contrasting setting especially prepared for it; and at night it magically CONTINUED ON PAGE 210 Moss edging has been used as a finish on many of these lamps. It can be obtained in practically all colors and in black; also a two-color effect, seen on the gold lamp in the group on the lower left. This soft, silky banding is most beautiful either when matching exactly the tone of a silk shade or contrasting with it. It may be used alone or as a finish between the shade proper and a wide silk fringe; the latter treatment is the most popular method for joining silk fringe and is seen on the very expensive shades. A tan moss edge is the only embellishment seen on the dull- gold fringed shade of the lamp on the direct left. This lamp with its base of black glazed ware daringly decorated in bright colors might delightfully relieve and enliven a rather tiresome brown and tan room. Striped shades are, also seen and are fashionable atop plain bases. ane le ca: BS

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08 fr® nee Q DR G 4 ¢, QUITTIIIUIIEIIT III rere Sanannesit,%as Baird-North Book of Advance Styles Now Ready Mail coupon below for your free copy, y. at what a great saving you can dress i in the modes set by Paris and New York as this season’s leading ‘styles. Supreme quality is what you naturally'expect in any garment offered by this old established firm of Baird- North Company. In this respect, as well as in respect of low prices, you will be more than agreeably sur- prised at this superb showing of the very latest and most beautiful styles as displayed in our Style Book. All-Wool Men’s Wear SERGE SUIT 11A205. Navy Bluc. 11A207. Black. A typical Baird-North offering, combining high quality and low price ina way characteristic of this old-established house. One of the most stylish and attractive in this Spring's showing of ultra smart suits, developed in all wool men’s wear serge, a popu- lar and extremely service- able fabric muchin demand by well-dressed women. Coat has semi-fitted lines at front, and artistic clus- ters of fine plaits at back, disappearing under the button-trimmed panel, as illustrated. Lower part is richly braided, all around, as shown; stylish narrow string belt of self material. his handsome coat is lined throughout with fine bed quality peau de cygne. rice . Skirtisplain, asrequired by the latest prevailing style; has pockets. and « Wm is gathered at back un- der all around belt. —— Sizes: 34 to 42. Coat length at back 32 inches. Shipping wt. 4 Ibs. Skirt lengths 39 to 42 inches. 12A313 Gopenagen B 0) en Blue 12A315 Black Another typical big val- ue from the exclusive Baird-North Style Book is this beautiful, latest style All Silk Taf- feta Dress made in the artistic and fashionable basqueeffect. This beau- tiful dress has yo gracefully flaring short sleeves Ke nowso much in yogue. Aspecial, 4 taffeta dress is the cordings which lend a peculiarly distinc- tive style touch to the skirt. Waist is lined with silky mull of fine quality. Double row of 12 buttons in front adds to the finish. Illustration discloses the delightfully grace- fuland dainty effect of this pleasing style, which has. the distinct note of “‘individual- ity”’ that commends Baird-North dresses to discriminating women everywhere. Sizes: 14 to 20 for Misses with 36in. skirt. 34 to 42 for Women with 39in. skirt. Price ° . Mail This Coupon Now! You will be delighted with the beautiful things A shown in the Baird- A North Style Book at “os prices amazingly low es, for guaranteed high , WB quality. Coats, suits, Shipping wD dresses, lingerie, weight 154 lbs. RY, millinery, : NZ nag i P § ‘ Coupon, Baird- ~ 7 postal of letter will North re . : 333 Broad St. Providence, R. I. Gentlemen: Please send me a copy of your book of advance ety uilding the New Fireplace DESIGNED BY STANLEY H. COVERT T THE right is a good suggestion for a fireplace built in the entrance hall under a broken stairway. The general effect is Co- lonial and the narrow panels forming built-in bookcases are quite a happy thought. The mantel shelf is high, and while the face is of brick, it -would be equally attractive if finished in soft tones of unglazed tile. The built-in seats at the sides give the whole entrance hall a very cozy appearance. |e OR those who want a stone fireplace the one on the right may offer suggestions. For the mantel shelf a cement slab or a wooden slab may be used. The fireplace need not extend to the ceiling, and if the room is small it would probably be bet- ter to stop the stonework just above the man- tel shelf. N THE left is a fire- place which shows the very effective use of brick headers. The niches in the piers are arched overwith small brick units, while the panel above the arch contains the Latin word “Salve,”’ mean- ing “Welcome,” in decorative semiglazed tiles harmonizing with the color- ing in the brick. A Good Suggestion for a Tile-and-Wood Fireplace for a Bedroom Designs Selected by Carey Edmunds DESIGNED BY GEORGE J. JERVIS SUGGESTION for a ceiling-high fireplace is shown above. The Della Rob- bia plaster panel rep- resenting Music is framed in by large masses of brickwork. Smaller brick units are used in the decorative panels for the candle fixtures. The brick is in various shades of gray buff, laid with cream-colored joints. HE fireplace above is shown purposely to call your attention to the dimensions of the opening. You will see how smoky the brickwork is immedi- ately above the opening—this is because the opening is higher than it is wide. Bear in mind—and this is exceedingly important—that the height of the open- ing should be somewhat less than the width unless a hood is used, otherwise you are likely to have smoke trouble. Be sure, too, that your hearth extends far enough in front of the opening to prevent sparks and embers from falling out and burning your floor. Just above this fireplace is a wood-and-brick com- bination with a picture inserted—a design which is especially attractive for a living room.

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AY Ree d.88 pw RE 59 pp ARG as ABR 5 0 PE REIIROE anlen ie ~ & o a, DELICIOUS “pour-over” on grape- fruit, pancakes, custards and ice cream. Use it instead of sugar for sweetening cereals, candied sweet potatoes, baked apples, fruit salad, lemonade or orangeade, and in making cake icings and fillings. TOWLE'S CABIN SYRUP “The Standard from Ocean to Ocean’’ Its incomparable Maple flavor transforms many a dish that sugar merely sweetens. Look for the Log Cabin can at Quality Grocers’. SPR. he

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The Joy of a Comfortable Corset Ferris Corded Corsets give smart lines with the utmost comfort. Correct design with light boning and rows of strong cording mould the figure and also permit healthful * freedom of motion. Skillfully made of durable materials, daintily trimmed and easily washed. (Rust- proof) Cjf— . err GOOD SENSE Corded Corsets Ask for them at leading stores. Look for the name “Ferris”. Send for Free Style Book Illustrating 100 styles of Corded Corsets, Sport Corsets, Corset Waists and Maternity Corsets. An instructive booklet for prospective mothers also sent free on request. THE FERRIS BROS. CO. 48-50-52 E. 21st St., New York 945 Maternity Corset small desk would be if it were used sep- arately. Aside from the decorative use, a purely practical one is found in the screen as a buffer against all drafts. In this day of large and generous doorways and fresh-air windows, the coziness of a living room can- not be impregnable without a screen which may be pulled out when needed and run, perhaps, at just the point where the cool night breezes and the heat from the fragrant fireplace meet one another. In the dining room the screen is a real essential in that position between the table and the swinging door through which come gusty puffs of cool- ness with every course. Even in the sun parlor, if one tries to do without one of these folding fortresses one fails. But perhaps one of the most important places of all is in the bedroom, for many people have found that, shielded by a screen while sleeping, they may beat all the fiends on record for the volume of consumed fresh air, whereas if the breezes blow directly upon them their quotas must be cut down far more than half. If the Sunlight is Too Strong N THE bedroom, too, may the screen pro- tect from glare. It is a kindlier custom to adjust a decorative screen between one’s eyes and the outside world through the window than to draw prisonlike blinds together or to pull down the window shade with its blank stare. This for the afternoon nap; and in the early morning, well screened, one sleeps soundly and well, long past the call of the milkman, who loses his power if the dawn has not got its work in ahead of The Decorative Screen (CONTINUED FROM PAGE 206) him. . And if a flood of sun in the room proves too strong for daytime sewing or reading don’t shut out such a precious stream of golden health; settle rather in the gentle shadow of your screen and be comfortable while you are breathing in the sunlight. Coverings for Formal Screens HE formal screen is nearly always cov- ered; the informal one may show the wooden frame, or a fulled cover, cased on rods. A formal screen is necessary in the living room and the other downstairs rooms, and unless one has a frame of the other type one desires to use, the covered screen is even preferable for bedroom use, where, by vary- ing the character of the material covering it, it will fit in with either a light or heavy scheme. Any of these formal screens may be covered with dark or daring cretonne; leather, tooled and polychromed, velvet, brocade, rep, grasscloth and, strange as it seems, wall paper of that brilliant com- bination of design, parrots or birds of paradise and richly decorative flowers all on a ground of black; gold paper, plain or dec- orated, is another possibility, and the dec- oration might assume the form of a black print done in brown or black, with perhaps a hint of Chinese red, or else simple bands of a contrasting material such as splashy wall paper or cretonne used elsewhere in the room, d the informal screens, with daintily flowered cretonne cased on rods, or wool-embroidered écru scrim lined with a bright-toned silk, solve many a bed- room problem. The Lamp as a Color Note (CONTINUED FROM PAGE 207) softens the general effect, casting its soft glow of color over everything, blurring edges, striking glowing high lights, transfiguring familiar groups with its fairy charm. In the room where there is too much mo- notony of color the contrasting color of a lamp and shade may provide the most effec- tive note in the whole scheme. Where blue prevails the soft brown or dull gold lamp is a happy choice; rose color is another, if this tone is repeated elsewhere; and the parch- ment shade with its characterful dark back- ground and singing colors always gives the blue room the strength and effect it needs. The predominantly rose scheme will fre- quently welcome, besides the decorated parchment shade, a tan shade lined with rose, a silver cloth lined with rose, yellow or blue, a dull blue shade lined with silver, or a cretonne combining ravishing colors. The yellow room often responds to a soft green- ish blue or mauve. Sienna also offers an effective note. If you desire your lamp shade to enhance your daytime scheme, and yet you regret the tone of the light shed through the me- dium since it changes unfortunately the color of all the objects within its range, by lining the shade with another color, or with a cre- tonne or silk combining other colors, the outer side of the shade which is so satis- factory during daylight hours at night will be entirely changed in color when the light is transfused through the different-colored lining. Effective combinations are champagne or gray lined with pink, rose, yellow or orange. Yellow lined with mulberry, or vice versa, buff lined with strong blue or peacock, pea- cock lined with orchid, or the reverse. Or if the lining is neutrally light, try a cheesecloth interlining of rose, orange or yellow between this and the bright-colored outside of the shade; not only will the glow of color thus obtained be charming, but the interlining will have lessened the objectionable glare caused by the lighted bulbs. A Partial List of Materials T WOULD be impossible to give an ade- quate list of the various materials that can be effectively used for the making of shades, but even a partial one is an inspiration, sug- gesting as it does odd lengths of many things reposing in your piece bag that may easily save a goodly sum on the cost of your shade. For erstwhile suitability of material is no longer to be considered in the fashioning of the new lamp shades—anything is suitable if it is effective. Among the silks, Georgette crépe, soft satin, taffeta, chiffon, gauze, wash silk over a brilliant color, rajah, pongee, upholstery silk, figured or striped curtain silk. Woolen challis, figured or plain, woolen albatross and etamine. Linen scrim in écru and colors, printed linens, plain-colored linens, linens embroidered in wool. Cotton crépes, voiles, ginghams, poplins, cotton Georgette. If the material is of the cheaper variety, such as gingham, scrim, and so forth, it should be lined and ruched with silk. Then there are silver and gold cloths in natural tones and colors; and paper, hand decorated and shellacked, or shellacked wall paper. Many of the shades made of sheer material are rather heavily embroidered in wool, and a great many of the silk Georgettes and chif- fons are edged with short and thick wool fringe, giving a piquant and charming effect. For Trimming the Edges INCE in these new shades the last touch means everything, the method of trim- ming the edges is all-important. For the fab- ric shades gimp has been supplanted entirely by moss edging, silk fringe and wool fringe. The latter, found among upholstery materi- als, may harmonize with but need not match the exact color of the shade. It should be a similar tone if used to finish plain-colored materials, otherwise it may blend with a con- trasting wool embroidery or printed figure. Wool fringe for lamp-shade use should be about an inch wide or less, and it is used in various thicknesses. Narrow quillings and ruches of silk to match the shade are eco- nomical and effective, and since they are made of the silk itself, there is no difficulty in tone matching. These quillings may be lined with silk the color of the shade lining; they may be of changeable silk, fringed by hand, which provides a novel edge of oppo- site color; they may be hemmed or pinked. Wall-paper shades should be bound with seam binding or tape at the edges, doing this by machines before sewing to the frame. And a liquid is obtainable for painting over any paper to give it the translucent effect of the fine parchment shades. Small shield shades, so treated, form a most effective so- lution for shading side-wall lights. And frames of all shapes may be bought. Then, as though realizing the inability of many people to afford the finished lamp, a specialty has been made of separate bases, beautiful things and fitted for electricity, gas or oil, so that at a really reasonable price it is possible for the woman of taste to have exactly the kind of lamp she most desires. must be washed to be pure The feathers in the pillows you and your babies sleep on must be pure. If not—you court danger; contamination lurks in unclean pillows—the ticking tells nothing of the feathers inside. Be sure they’re pure—buy pillows marked Restwel. Every feather in every Restwel is absolutely new and pure—as sterile as a surgeon’s knife. Only new feathers go into Restwels— andsthey’re all washed in torrents of pure water. Thenthey’re electrocured, then steamed and steamed again in the exclusive Restwel tenfold purify- ing process. That’s the kind of purity you want—and you find it in Restwels. Andthey’recomfortable—stuffed full of soft, fluffy, downy comfort that lasts. _ The only pillows made with washed feathers. Don’t judge pillows by thetick. It’sthe insides that count. Dangerous filth or soft, downy purity may be inside the same ticking. Buy pillows by the name—and be sure of their history. Are your pillows flat? Feathers that have been slept on too long are mostly quill and dust. Throw them away and get new pillows. Just try one pair—be sure of the Restwel label. Dealers in your town sell them—if you don’t know which one, write us. The Robinson-Roders Co., Inc. Newark, N. J. Makers of Restwel Bedding New York Chicago Little Rock Cleveland Kansas City St. Louis World’s Largest Pillow & Mattress Manufacturers ‘REST WEL CPillows and Mattresses For the rest of your life —

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—s Ss wo __sS Ts easy, practical way to polish and preserve finished surfaces is with Johnson’s Prepared Wax and a cloth. You don’t need brushes, sprays or mops of any kind FOR FURNITURE Johnson’s Prepared Wax_pol-- ishes perfectly over any finish . —varnish, shellac or oil.) It forms a thin, protecting ae over the varnish, similar to the service rendered by a piece of plate glass over a-desk, be - or dresser top. Your dealer has “ Johnsone’” ” — don’t accept: a substitute. : Johnson’s Prepared Wax imparts a beautiful, artistic lustre of great beauty and durability. It gives a hard, dry, velvety polish which will not collect dust or show finger prints. It cleans and preserves the varnish — prevents checking and cracking. ‘Johnson’s Prepared Wax Paste is . the proper polish for floors of all kinds =— wood, tile, marble, composition and linoleum. I[t.does not show scratches or heel marks and floors polished with it can easily be kept in perfect condition. Worn spots can be rewaxed without going” over: the entire surface. eae Peis Bes aay s0n Ss res da Liquid Gor polishing your furniture, 1s, woodwork and automobiles. It polishes instantly with 7 a Perfect Dancing Surface : “sprinkle . ohasbals Powdered’. Wax over ‘any floor. The feet of ; “the. dancers will spread the wax, polishing the floor, and immediately put it in perfect condition’ for dancing. "oot s Powdered Wax is conveniently “iy ips in shaker kab cans.” re used’ in’ in’ the: manufacture of the Johnson Phacturte as aif 3 our eniployees shave , for several years, been our : hare “in the . i of. ae Duveiiikss.

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ee Fa coy ; L 1 RS, Dis iN Be Bibi HE comes The Bright Simplex Way The Tedious Old-Fashioned Way Ironing Made Easy OMPARE these two ironing methods. There can be no question as to which woman will be the happier, healthier and more cheerful when the work is finished. There is a vital thought in this for every housewife who is trying courageously to meet the overwhelming demands upon her time. For the Simplex way of ironing brings content among homes wherever household problems threaten—and that is everywhere! The Simplex stands alone among ironing machines. It is mechanically perfect, simple, standard. It does your ironing beautifully, rapidly, economically and saves at least $100 a year in fuel, help and laundry bills. It lasts a lifetime. It is a mark of intelligent housekeeping to possess a Simplex Ironer. Write us for illustrated literature, which we will gladly forward. American Ironing Machine Company, 503, 168 N. Michigan Ave., Chicago Pacific Coast Sales Office: 431 Sutter St., San Francisco, Cal. We also make Ironing machines and Laundry equipment for laundries, hotels, institutions and factories Eastern Sales Office: 70 W. 45th St., New York City SP aM G2 CIN I DU MB MIE Rj SBI RETIN i EIT OEAS LS LBL LOLS N et it PELL AES OC, LIES ELLELA\_L\ BEDE EOLA BES Bi iP 8 The Simplex Ironer completes an average ironing in an hour, at a cost of only 4 cents for fuel. Every- thing, but elaborate ruffles and frills. 0 see ONES Se MRE LRA OES SIO OIRS SOR, 9 A ng mI NR Pett Rag rem tee te OTR Find i till k aitthstaiMbi ddhnniaeaapatdedemmnstite

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aGeumme LIVING ROOM BLD SPACE AND DINING ROOM DEN 136156” i} {| 0%13'0"

PORCH 705130”

Floor Plan of the Bungalow Below HE little bungalow below is, as you can see from a glance at the floor plan, most compactly and conveniently planned. Notice particularly the kitchen with its built-in features—perhaps the most valued one to the housewife is the built-in ironing board. In the den a wall bed is provided for a guest.

DESIGNED BY GEORGE PALMER TELLING

BEDROOM 90x12" OTK is LIVING ROOM J BEDROOM AND " DINING ROOM W'3%120" W6xi9s” g /

-——— — -36¢4"— — —___ Floor Plan of the Bungalow on the Right HERE is hardly one comforta- _4 ble feature that has not been incorporated in the little bungalow Shown on the right. The living room and the dining room are com- bined to save space, but there is a little breakfast alcove off the kitchen, which may be used for breakfast and luncheon. There are built-in bookcases in the living room and even a built-in desk. There is not a room, with the exception of the bath, which does not have cross ventilation.

DESIGNED BY FRANK RASCHE

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DESIGNED BY CYRIL BENNETT sf HE bungalow shown first on the page would look well in any semi-suburban locality and could be set quite close to the sidewalk if the lot were a wide but shal- low one. The floor plan opposite shows the location of a terrace porch—just back of the living room, with which it com- municates by a glass door and with the dining room by French doors. The doors are omitted between the living room and the dining room to give the feeling of greater space. More privacy for the din- ing room could be obtained by French doors curtained with thin but nontrans- parent material. The two bedrooms are nicely separated from the living portion by the narrow hall, and both are easily ac- cessible to the bath. — MAIDS ROOM

BEDROOM 143x150"

4 ICLOS,

Ce) PERGOLA

LIVING ROOM 179x223”

DINING ROOM R6x3T" ,_ Floor Plan of the Bungalow on the Left HE bungalow on the left is, as you can see from the floor plan above, built around the living room—the service portion on one side with the sleeping quarters opposite. At the front and rear one comes upon a terrace entered through French doors draped with golden mar- quisette, which makes the living room always seem full of sunshine. DESIGNED BY ISAAC N. FLOUNDERS

ac. a] 336 —— e mz PORCH 60x16"

BEDROOM 6x 13'0"

LIVING ROOM 140°x 169"

DINING ROOM 138x140" — PORCH 80% 316" HE stone-finished bungalow above has two rooms on the second floor. The plan also shows the convenient feature of the toilet separate from the bath—an ar- rangement especially appreciatedin the house with but one bathroom.

Page 218

Corsets _ HOME J © UR N Al Will a Corset Stand It? o) OU expect much of a corset! You lace it hurriedly UY in the morning and keep it on till night. You lean over the oven—it must bend. You frolic with the baby—it must yield with every movement. You take violent exercise—it must withstand every lurch and twist ! Will a corset that is made to give style and comfort hold up under all this? A Warner’s Rust-Proof Corset will. It has been made to withstand every strain. The boning is double, which means that it will bend to every movement but will not remain bent. It holds the shape of the corset but adds nothing to the weight. Your Warner’s Rust-Proof need never be discolored or soiled. For you can wash it as often as you like. Every Warner’s Rust-Proof Corset is guarantced not to rust, break or tear. Under the comfortable firmness of a Warner’s Rust- Proof, hips disappear. It is the underlying secret of many a trim tailored suit and soft, clinging gown! Comfort, style, double wear, double life, real economy —all this you find in a Warner’s Rust-Proof Corset. fust-Proof * REMEMBER! Warner’s Rust-Proof is the guaranteedcorset "abet Cage SO! A Te alc NIRS tee nee i= ae \— Sas S Ke Sak £ ASST > — —— a=

Page 219

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Bhi) A Good Arrangement for Twin Beds, Each t\Z Being a Wall Bed to be Shut Into the Wall in \ ae the Daytime; Thus Your Porch is Something iS) More Than a Sleeping Porch—an Upstairs Lt Sun Room, Sewing Room or Sitting Room me ‘ HERE is no doubt that most householders find | sleeping outside a healthful habit; as evidence i | to prove this I need only cite the chronic sleep- fy) ing porchers who, having formed the habit, cannot sleep comfortably inside. Some, perhaps, Gy) might not be able to sleep on an outdoor porch in winter; but it is safe to say that most folks can sleep there with benefit twelve months in the year, when the porch is properly built and correctly furnished. Several years before the war the sleeping-porch idea was developed as a health proposition; being help- ful in a medical way, the next thought was, if fresh air is good for invalids, why not for well folks? Archi- tects were quick to respond; magazines spread the gospel of outdoor sleeping; and ‘the idea quickly traveled and became an American institution. Why Many Sleeping Porches are Not Used ‘tie main reason why many sleeping porches are built but not used is that some people don’t Ap know how to sleep comfortably on a sleeping porch. { They try it a few times, are uncomfortable, don’t sleep well, give it up and come inside to sleep. If they would experiment a bit, go at it intelligently and logically, a system of furnishing and a method of sleeping could be successfully worked out. To sleep you must be comfortable, so of

If You ‘Add Your Sleeping Porch to a House Already Built be Sure to Keep it in Harmony With the Original Design Many old-timers sleep in a sleeping bag, consisting usually of a full-length bag made from ajblanket or from some fur-bearing skin. Into this one creeps. Often, these sleeping bags have a flap to be tied tightly around the neck, and when a bag which is like this is used fewer bedclothes are neces- sary. The porch bed should be a single bed. A double bed containing one person or even two persons is rarely warm enough because the bedclothes cannot be drawn close to the body in a double bed. Use a single bed, then, in which the bed- clothes, tucked in tightly at the sides, make a warm, air-tight nest for you. As this nest must be warmed by heat from your body it is an advantage to have a small nest because requiring less heat. That is why a small bed is warmer than a large one.

SLEEPING PORCH

Cut a Doorway Between . Bedroom and Porch; Equip theBed WithRubber-Tired, Ball-Bearing Casters and You Will Have an Excellent System of Outdoor Sleeping. At NightTrundle the Bed Out ; in Daytime Keep it Inside; it Will be Warm When You Get Into It If you cut a wide door between bedroom and porch, you may have your bed on rubber-tired casters and keep it inside the room in daytime, trundling it out on the porch at night. The bed, kept ina warm room during the day, is nice and warm when you get into it. To warm a cold bed you may give it a preliminary warming with a hot- water bag, soapstone warmer or elec- tric pad. A Bedroom is Not So Good F YOUR bedroom has windows on three sides and plenty of them, it might be as good as a sleeping porch. Usually, however, a bedroom has

windows on not more than two sides. Then, too, your bedroom is so large that the bed is not near enough toa

: window really to be right out in the The Necessary Bedclothes A Pivoted Wall Bed. fresh air. It Swings Easily Out Any number can be comfortable on pd to the springs there should be spread a rubber or oilcloth sheet to keep the cold or damp wind from blowing up from underneath. Newspapers or heavy wrap- ping paper can be used for the same purpose, though some dexterity in spreading paper is required to prevent that

unpleasant crinkling, cracking

prime importance is sound every time one turns over in bed. : what you wear. Here Next comes your mattress, on top of is where so many fail r which you lay a cotton-blanket “ sheet.”’ to find comfort; the Don’t use ordinary white cotton sheets sleeping garments BEDROOM PORCH I in winter; they are too cold. The cot- and bed covers are ' 1 ton blanket mentioned folds once (in not skillfully chosen. ; BED a single bed) and you lie between the It is cold weather, 1 ; | folds. Now, for the coverings above, let us say; the outside L.—~-~—-— -~—-—-4 you may use a number of cotton-mixed temperature is down blankets, old comforters or all-wool to zero, and on your = blankets (or a combination of all), piling

re — unheated porch the temperature is only a few degrees higher. It makes you shiver just to think of sleep- ing outside in such weather; yet, if in normal health, you can do it and not only be warm and cozy, but actu- ally too warm if you have too many bedclothes. What to Wear at Night ONSIDER, first, the sleeping garments; you must be covered from top to toe with a cotton-flannel garment or one made of material equally warm. This garment may be one of those especially designed for outdoor sleeping, having feet and a hood, or you may wear ordinary cotton-flannel pajamas. If the former is worn you are incased like an Eskimo and your body is protected from cold winds; if you wear the latter you must provide yourself with a separate cotton- flannel hood, tucked into the neck of your pajamas, and you must draw stockings over your feet and up the legs of your pajamas. You are thus an Eskimo quite as much as with a special one-piece sleeping garment. Some need more weather protection, some less. Children require the least amount of clothing, elderly people the most. You must experiment; keep putting on bedclothes until you are warm. Under the pajamas many wear a suit of medium- weight underwear which, clinging more tightly to the body than pajamas, keeps one warmer. Nightgowns ane nightshirts are not practical in cold weather, as they do not fit snugly enough to the body.

in Either Place.

Only One Bed is Required

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Wall Bed Pivoted Between Bedroom and a Sleeping Porch. This Way You May Sleep In Bad Weather Sleep Inside; in Good Weather Outside—and

BS er BX ORES Se — SUAS GS Sor up as many coverings as you, after ex- perimenting, need. If old enough to require considerable protection, you had better use all-wool blankets; it takes fewer of them, and fewer bedclothes means less weight to support on your body. Army blankets are excellent. One bed with which I am familiar is clothed as follows: Springs. Mattress. Quilted mattress pad. Cotton blanket, folded (sleep between folds). Wool blanket, folded (two thicknesses). Another wool blanket, folded (two thicknesses). Extra-heavy wool blanket (one thickness). Comforter. Total thicknesses for low temperatures, seven. For the bed itself, a little iron one, three feet wide, always proves practical. Select one that has a very low head and foot piece, just high enough to hold the mattress securely and keep it from sliding off. Ideal sleeping porches are equipped with built-in wall beds which can be closed up in the wall in daytime, thus permitting you to use your porch as a sewing or sit- ting room. Other beds are pivoted to swing into a closet or are on casters to slide into an adjacent bed- room in daytime. How to Plan a Sleeping Porch AT way to build a sleeping porch is to locate it on top of the first-story porch. When building a new house it can be arranged in this way; when remod- eling you can often build on top of an existing porch. he COPE oes eS =~ 3% Y Le (gs E 4 $/BEONZ

of the Way Into a Little Closet. Then Your Sleeping Porch is Released in Day- time for Other Use Tears. 2 Va = Puts Ce ee a porch. Many porches have a row of little beds accommodating an entire family, using bedrooms merely for warm dressing rooms. Some porches are built without windows or other means of partially closing the porch openings. It is usually more com- fortable to have sashes especially on the windy side and to shelter the beds. The ideal porch contains windows on three sides, and a sufficient number of windows must be opened to give plenty of fresh air, or you are not sleeping outdoors. A cold porch doesn’t necessarily mean a fresh-air porch. Many have given up their porch because of out- side noises. Passing trains, automobiles, footsteps, the noisy conversation of passers-by, the early morn- ing milkman—all these things tend to make the outdoor porch a noisy place. This trouble can be effectually discounted by stuffing a little tuft of cot- ton in each ear. Cotton doesn’t stop all sound, but dulls it and makes sleeping possible. To take the place of a sleeping porch where a porch is not possible, there are clever little sleeping balconies. Some are made of wood, extending out from a win- dow; others are of canvas hung from an ordinary window opening or from a special opening made larger thana window. Hard to Get Up in the Morning Bp are many ways to treat the window open- ings of a porch. Casements swinging inside or outside can be employed, although the latter are the most practical, because they occupy no valuable space when open. Another type of casement window is pivoted top and bottom in pairs, and all the sashes can be pushed to one side or the other of the big opening. Another window drops down into a pocket, like a car window. Window openings fitted with Venetian blinds require no sash. For storm protec- tion it is a good idea to have the roof of the porch overhang sufficiently to prevent rain from driving in onto the beds. Awnings accomplish the same purpose. Beware of the east porch, uncurtained, unless you wish to get up with the birds. With awnings or cur- tains, however, it can be made perfectly comfortable. One “porcher’’ I know of wears “blinders,” con- sisting of 4 silk mask tied behind his head and ex- tending over his eyes. With cotton in his ears to reduce sound and blinders to lessen light, he sleeps the sleep of the just and has to be poked out of a morning. That is the only objection to a sleeping porch: “It’s hard to get ’em up in the morning.”

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Page 220

( oury the tang and swing of the country into the city with a Suit of Standware Jersey Cloth. It has that sportsmantike look of just-ran-into-town,which marks the socially placed and pedigreed. Wher you stipulate Standware’ you discriminate between the best-Pure Worsted cud the rest-poor wool The Standard is JERSEY CLOTH Garments mace of al w ? « Stanctware Gersey Cloth are [FUREWonsTED on view at all fashionable E WORSTED g; SCHREJBER 7 een Sanduare, Department Stores and Apparel Sandware, FABRICS Shops. The, genuine is labeled Sheed Standware” because it Stands Wear RUDOLPH SCHREIBER 1140 Broadwa New »Y or | a MAUVE IN U.S.A.

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The Farm-Home Tour HOME JOURNAL

By Helen Johnson Keyes

UR automobile fled gayly along blos- soming roads. Lilacs, pink and white dogwood, tender greens, black greens, misty whiteswith here and therea strengthening dissonance of magenta, perhaps a Judas tree, sang together the early summer carol. The road was well kept, but sinuous, and capricious

four cents, the era of the hand pump passed. “Windmills are expen- sive to construct,”’ said one woman, ‘“‘but are durable and usually keep a tank filled.”’ “Yes,” interposed an- other woman, “ but there is the question of storage for reserve supply. Wind is so uncertain that a five days’ storage capacity is

with little hills. Just aswe plunged down intoa hollow there appeared over its brow another car, followed by another and another and another till I reached a score and stopped counting. They came like a proces- sion of huge ants, but when we passed them they shouted to us; handkerchiefs fluttered and faces smiled. “It’s the Farm-Home Tour,” said my companion, who was a native of the state. ‘And what,” I asked, ‘‘is the Farm-Home Tour?” The Origin of the Farm-Home Tour - OU know,” she answered, ‘‘that most .of. the counties in this part of the world—that is, in the states of the North and the West —have a county asso- ciation of farmers’ families called the Farm Bureau. It is a clearing house and also a stimulus for all local clubs and neighborhood interests. You must realize that rural communities are very active to-day with organized programs of work. For instance, in my home we are carrying on poultry clubs and garden clubs; a few miles away from us everyone is working on health subjects—nutrition, dietetics and hot lunches in schools; a few miles away in another direction the women are holding clothing and millinery schools. “These organized community activities, called ‘ proj- ects,’ are presented by the Farm Bureau and form the county program of work. In this the United States Department of Agriculture and the state colleges coép- erate by sending into the counties and communities—if this is desired—home demonstration agents. These women bring with them the results of scientific experi- ments worked out in the Department of Agriculture and the state colleges and, by coéperating intensively for short periods of time with the local committee women and project leaders, they give a scientific and suggestive character to the work.” “That is tremendously interesting,” I said; ‘but still I do not know about the Farm-Home Tour.” “I am coming to it. Several communities in the county north of us have been studying home manage- ment for several seasons. The ‘projects’ about which they have written include convenient and inexpensive kitchens; lighting and water systems; labor-saving implements; interior arrangement and decoration, and landscape gardening. “‘Three years ago the county home demonstration agent suggested that a series of visits be made to re- modeled or particularly well-built and well-equipped farm homes within a radius of about forty miles, whose owners were willing to receive guests and explain the practical features of their houses. “That tour resulted in so much benefit that it was repeated last year, and the twenty-eight automobiles which you have just seen are starting off on a similar pilgrimage. I have heard they are to visit five homes, each of which has some special idea practically carried out. But if you are interested, why don’t we turn around and join the procession? I know all the people and I’m sure they will be glad to have us.” A Day as Full of Information as a Cyclopedia ft +. it happened that I went on the Farm-Home Tour and, through the courtesy of my companion and the friendliness of the men and women who bade me welcome, experienced a day as big with information as a cyclopedia, and as full of thrill as a Christmas stocking. All day long I cut knots and took off wrap- pings and found the most wonderful people. One of these was a little bride-to-be whom I discov- ered wrapped up in a kitchen sink. “You see, we are building a house,” she explained, ‘and I almost put in a sink which would have been too high for me. A sink was just a sink to me and I never thought of heights. But washing dishes takes a good deal of time every day, and I should have been much more tired at night if I had stood stretching up to my work. I never should have thought of keeping all the laundry things out of the way in their own group, or arranging stove and table and sink in any special way so as to save steps, if I hadn’t seen this house.” The hostess of another home which we visited showed us with particular satisfaction the transformation of her old-fashioned parlor into a jolly room where high- school trophies, photographs of young people in groups, games and a talking machine spoke of merriment and informality. ‘‘ You see, I have three daughters,’’ she said, ‘‘and I don’t want them to meet young men The Farm-Home Tour is Really What it Looks Like—a Worth-While Picnic outside, so we have made our old parlor into this room, which is just theirs to entertain in. So many trage- dies could be avoided,’’ she added, ‘if places were provided for young people at home.” The inspection of water systems, I found, excited more interest than any other one convenience. “T love the country,” said an elderly woman as we stood looking into the depths of a tub. “I'd be mighty lonely in the city myself, but I respect my daughter's feelings, and unless we can be decent on the farm, unless my husband will put in running water, I'll give them every encouragement to move away. J can stand carrying water and heating it by the bucketful because I’m old and I’ve done it all my life, but I'll not ask them to do it.” “Don’t wait for an elaborate system,” advised the home demonstration agent. “It is not necessary. Nor would an elaborate system be practicable in your home unless it were well heated. See how simple this is.”’ The Convenience of Cisterns and Attic Tanks HE led us out into the kitchen, where the hostess was waiting to talk to her guests. “Five years ago,”’ the hostess said, ‘‘we put in the simplest of all water arrangements, simply a force pump in the kitchen sink, giving us water from the cistern which, .as you see, is near the house and less than twenty feet below the pump. This year we elab- orated that idea by introducing the three-way valve which connects with our range boiler and provides cold water from the cistern, warm water from the bottom of the boiler and hot water from the top, according to the direction in which the valve is turned.”’ “Oh, my,” breathed the first speaker, ‘‘I never thought there was anything so simple as that. We have been looking up pressure tanks and autopneu- matic systems, and my husband just won’t spend the money. But this—why,” she cried joyously, “I be- lieve I have money enough myself for this!’’ At the next house we saw an attic tank with a capacity of sixty gallons. “Our house is not heavy enough to support a larger reservoir,’ said our hostess, ‘‘and this really does not contain enough water for our family. The proper way to estimate is twenty-five gallons a day for each human being where there is a bathroom. We have a good mechanism, however, which keeps pumping fresh water in, so that the water is usually cool. We have built a wooden box around the tank and filled this with sawdust so that it did not freeze last winter.” “We were so fortunate,”’ interposed one of the party, ‘‘as to have a hill near our buildings and above them all, so that my husband built a concrete reservoir on it himself which has been very satisfactory.” The plumber son at the next house expatiated on the pressure tank and on the autopneumatic system. These being more complicated mechanisms interested him rather than the inexpensive installations which put new courage into the women. He admitted, how- ever, that the pressure tank is not practical as a supply for the entire farm because of the expense of a very large reservoir. As an installation merely for the house it is ex- cellent and is expensive only when compared to the force pump or the attic reservoir. The autopneumatic system, he said, is ideal in theory because it does away with storage and by a self- operating pump takes water directly from the well and delivers it at the faucet. A never-ending supply, however, of perfectly clean, clear water is necessary for its operation. A Pump Keeps the Family Together | WAS nearly one o’clock when we left this home and, as the women had brought box lunches, we sought a pleasant, woodsy place to spread out our pic- nic. My friend and I were pensioners upon the bounty of the party and we fared royally. The question of pumps occupied a good deal of thé conversation. The hand pump, except for a tiny supply of water, belongs to a period when no value was placed upon time, par- ticularly on the farm wife’s time. As soon as it was discovered that at current wages the pumping by hand cost about two dollars a horse-power hour, whereas a gas engine cost for the same result about needed if you depend on it, whereas with a gas en- gine a two days’ reserve is sufficient.” “We get our water from a spring,’’ said another woman, ‘“‘so we put in a hydraulic ram. It wasn’t expensive, and it pumps continuously without our doing anything to it and will send water to almost any height. We have our bathroom on the second floor, which is a great convenience.” My eyes fell on the woman who had resolved to help her daughters get to the city because there was no running water at home. She was busy with pencil and paper. Hydraulic rams were unnecessary in her pro- gram. She had found enough money in her savings bank to install a force pump and a three-way valve. The Farm-Home Tour had given her back her daughters. Electric Devices That Save Time and Labor | WASa surprise to me to find how many farm homes have their own electric plants. We inspected a sys- tem which can be installed for five hundred dollars, after which the current costs about what it does in town when purchased from a central station. New batteries are shipped from the factory when needed and recharged in the home by the use of a fluid. Electric current in farm homes means much more than lights; it supplies power for many housekeeping operations. 4 We saw a laundry—just an old lean-to, it was— which, our hostess told us, had made Monday and Tuesday the favorite days of the week! A washing machine, a wringer and a flatiron were connected with the current. The kitchen was kept cool in summer by using electric cookers; a vacuum cleaner eliminated dust throughout the house and an electrically run sewing machine made dressmaking a pleasurable ex- citement. “They give me so much time,” said our hostess, referring to her electrically operated devices, ‘‘that I can be worth something in the community. I am sec- retary of our Parent Teacher Association which put hot lunches in our school and got a nurse into our county; and I am project leader of our landscape gardening work. I am glad to hear you are going to visit Mrs. Mulford’s grounds, for she has turned a poor-looking place into a pleasant one just by a little. shrubbery properly planted. Our home demonstra- tion agent has brought us a lot of help in our landscape gardening—and in everything else.” I found the agent, indeed, a woman of flexibility and tact and with an accumulation of practical knowledge which seemed to have no limits. A degree in home economics requires mastery of the practical and applied phases of many sciences and arts, but the degree would not suffice for the agent’s work unless she could add to it the power to magnetize for special people the special work which they are fitted to do. We found in Mrs. Mulford’s home a series of photo- graphs, showing her house and other houses before any decorative planting had been attempted and after- ward. Certain line combinations and color masses done in shrubbery had been successfully used to soften and recompose intrinsically ugly structures or to add their beauty to good beginnings. “The United States Department of Agriculture is doing a great deal of this landscape gardening work in the South,” said Mrs. Mulford. Help From the Department of Agriculture FTER we had visited the last house and our auto- mobiles made ready to follow each its own road, I said: ‘‘Let’s raise a rousing cheer to the Department of Agriculture, which is standing behind us all in our efforts to have the best possible homes.”’ When the shouting had ceased the home demon- stration agent added earnestly: ‘‘Let us do more than cheer the department; let us also lean upon it and use it. It has valuable free bulletins on the sub- jects we are studying; we should send to the Office of Publications for a list of them. And don’t let us forget that in the States Relations Service there are women whose life work is that of assisting us. Why not write to them and be friendly with those who show us their friendship?’’ “We'll do it!’’ cried the women as they clambered into their cars. Then away we sped toward our homes, better housekeepers and happier women than before we rode out on the Farm-Home Tour.

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Page 222

HOME JOURNAL April, 1920 O WORRY over ‘‘what is baby up to now” for the mother whose tot grows up in MADE ONLY BY TRIMBLE OO KippiE-KOOP Bassinet, Crib and Play-Pen Combined For the price of a good crib alone. In Baby’sinfancy? Kiddie-Koop is Bassinet, Bath and Dressing-Table, and Crib. Wheels from room to room, or out-of-doors. Through crib years? Kiddie-Koop is Play-pen in awake-hours, and snuggest bed for nap or sleep times. Baby stays clean and safe from ground draughts, insects, animals, forbidden toys, even when alone. Safety screened sides. Sanitary. Folds instantly to 8” width for carrying. Springs and mattress adjust with one motion to right level as baby grows. Know the other features which make Kiddie- Koop a necessity and economy. Write—TODAY—for FREE Booklet and explanation of 10-day Trial Offer. E. M. Trimble Mfg. Co. 431 Central Ave. Rochester, N. Y. For Canada—Lea-Trimble Mfg. Co., Toronto. When buying, insist on MADE ONLY BY TRIMBLE Kippie-K° ROCHESTER Nameplate to secure KIDDIE-KOOP exclusive features. eee AoE: 2 * ‘ a * (aa for 3 ° 5 j 5 minutes’ work IFTEEN years ago, Mrs. # y Craighead, of Massachusetts, ; * was calling on a neighbor who i said, “I believe I’ll subscribe for ‘ The Ladies’ Home ‘fournal.”’ Banswnare sees te oc aR Mrs. Craighead, instantly seeing a business opportunity, replied, “Let me take your order.” She got it; and, stopping on the way home, she got two more orders. All three friends are still subscribers. Each year Mrs. Craighead sends in the renewal orders, and earns another commission. Her total net profit on the original invest- ment of five minutes’ spare time has been $22.50. Of course she secures many other subscriptions now. In fact, al- though she is a busy housewife, her Curtis profits have paid for her daughter’s education and brought her a great deal of extra money besides. Many months she earns as much as $50.00 in odd moments. + — This story illustrates the ease with which a Curtis business may be established, and the permanency and liberality of the profits that may be earned. In your own locality you can use your odd moments during the Sum- mer to bring you the extra money that you need—perhaps for your vaca- tion! For details of our cash offer, fill out and mail this coupon: THE CURTIS PUBLISHING COMPANY 712 Independence Square, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania Gentlemen :— Please send me details of your money-making plan. Name MS Address City State My Model Kitchen By Mary Harrod Northend OR years I had been planning my Pvt on paper, realizing that it would be a home where a servant could be eliminated. Efficiency was the watchword which controlled my plans, yet with it all I desired to incorporate the old New England theories whereby the din- ing room and kitchen could be used as one room.. The kitchen is only eighteen feet by fourteen, while the working space is ten feet square. It is built on the east side of the house and designed with at- tractivewindows, prettily curtained, formy idea was that in addition to working effi- ciency, it should be artistic, with the result that it looks like an old English breakfast room and we are using it three times a day. The walls and ceiling are painted a deep ivory. The washable curtains at the windows are of stamped cotton in a quaint design and give a distinct decorative note. The floor is covered with battleship lin- oleum, the same as is used in hospitals, because it is easy to keep clean. One end is given over to working, the other to a rest room, where the The “Rest Corner” in the Kitchen Yocking-chair and cabinet of books make it - a delight to sit between whiles during the day’s work. Labor-Saving in the Kitchen TT HE central feature is the kitchen table, which was purchased at a low cost, un- painted. This was painted with two coats of paint to match the linoleum, after which it was rubbed down with linseed oil, which gave it a nice finish. The chairs, reproductions of the old Windsor type, were also purchased at a small cost, unpainted, and finished in the same way. Our dining table, painted to match the other pieces, I placed near the windows. The kitchen was equipped with electricity, and one of the advantages to us of the elec- tric stove is that the food cooked seems to taste more as if it had been baked in an old-fashioned brick oven. My stove works perfectly and automatically, and this sim- plifies my cooking one half and enables me to 3 Z _e ee OD > SS A Fireproof Set- ting for My Elec- tric Stove havetimetosewand devote my atten- tion to other things. Ventilation and light were two im- portant theories which I worked out in the planning of this particular room. These have been provided for by a large outside window in the mid- dle of the wall on the “‘rest”’ end, and also over the sinks, allowing for a cross draft which removes cooking odors. I arranged for two sinks with open plumbing, using the same type as is used in hospitals. One is used for dishwashing, the other for draining; between them a draining board of wood, which can easily be removed, washed and replaced. A high stool with rubber casters is tucked away under the sink, to be drawn out when nec- essary to prepare vegetables orwash dishes. The Attractive Kitchen— Dining Room End An Electric Stove and Built-in Closets HE kitchen wall at the rear was bricked in to make it fireproof, and my electric stove, in front, sits on tiles. At the left is an alcove with shelves of slate which are removable and can be easily washed. A cupboard at the right of the sink is utilized to hold the breakfast and dinner dishes, the drawers below are for towels. The two built-in closets are exactly the samesize, containing shelvescarefully spaced. The upper shelf is low enough to be reached comfortably, so that by looking through the glass doors I am able to determine at once just what needs replenishing. Of course I use nothing but glass jars, as they are easily kept clean and save both time and energy. Another feature of my efficient kitchen is the broom closet, which was most carefully worked out. On the floor are placed the pails, the shelf above being allotted for soap and cleaning materials. Next comes the vacuum cleaner and at the top are the hand brooms and mops, with brushes hanging on hooks. This is well lighted from the window across the room, so I can see at a glance as I open the door everything in the closet. Each year I am planning to add something new to my kitchen, and my aim is to make this combination kitchen and dining room an exceptionally practical and efficient room. The Twin Built-in Closets, Both the Same Size and Shelves Carefully Spaced

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HOME JOURNAL

| fragrance and taste

Compare the

The Economy of Burnett's Vanilla is due to its full flavor-—~— Make this Simple Test

Burnett's Color Pastes There is a charm about daintily colored des- serts that is irresistible—the charm the French use so delightfully in their pastries. You can make your desserts just as attractive, just as distinctive by using Burnett’s Color Pastes. Their purity is government endorsed. They are tasteless—easily soluble—and stronger of 115 new desserts }| Since 1847-Burnetts extracts have meant full flavor

ATSt vx Burnett’s Vanilla Ex- tract—pour a few-drops on a lump of sugar and sip the extract through it. then repeat the test using any other vanilla. The sharp contrast between ¢his and Burnett’s will be so marked that you will be forever convinced.

EXTRACT VANILLA FOR FLAVORING | les. Cakes Jellies Ee.

i S t f r 3 But full flav 1C] r : ut full flavor means delicious 1 e . d hich is ¢ y esserts, wnicn 1s vue econom S S . . . . . This aromatic fragrance—delicate and yet intense—is the secret of 1 . i the ‘‘full flavor’’ of Burnett’s Vanilla, a strength of subtlety, of almost ; ' wsthetic charm, not of heaviness or bitterness. Because of this velvet : ‘full flavor,’’ it takes only a little of Burnett’s Vanilla to permeate a y whole dessert with flavor, and so it zs economical. . But the great economy of Burnett’s Vanilla is its capacity to make : even an ordinary dessert a delightful delicacy. Flavor is the supreme 1 : element in a dessert, in fact without flavor we could not have desserts. sirable but not unusual Lemon and Orange. than liquid colorings. e d : n } v I $ ; : . n le : ) Send for this booklet Most of these desserts are original—all of them delicious. All the recipes have been tested. Send 10c in stamps or coin to cover postage and give us your grocer’s name and we will mail the booklet to you promptly. JoserH BuRNeETT Co. Boston, Mass.

2 FLUID OUNCES im

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GORHAM SILVER ve eae oi lver ca Sil ish | Gives that lustre—brilliance— and elegance which characterizes the newness of fine sterling silverware. At its best, silverware is wonderfully effective wher- ever it is used— but it must be at its best. Gorham Silver Polish keeps it so, simply and easily. Made, recommended and guaranteed by the world’s largest makers of fine sterling silverware. Gorham Silver Polish is made in three forms:—a smooth, velvety CREAM, very convenient; a solid CAKE, very popular and most economical; and a POWDER, very efficient and still in demand by many housekeepers. Sold by leading jewelers, druggists and grocers. A sample will gladly be sent postpaid upon receipt of ten cents to cover cost of packing and mailing. Address THE GORHAM COMPANY Silversmiths and Goldsmiths Silver Polish Department 25 Providence, R. I. HAROLD F. RITCHIE & CO., Inc., Sales Agents New York London Toronto HOME JOURNAL Do your spare hours Bring Extra Profit r YOU can make your spare hours pay, as did the girl whose likeness appears at the left. She is Miss Myrtle Mason, of Washington. She wanted to go to college. She went. She wanted pretty clothes. She bought them. She wanted all of the thousand and one other things that make for greater com- fort and happiness. They were hers. Spare-Time Profits Helped Pay for Them One Hundred Dollars a Month is the amount that many an energetic man and woman easily earns as a subscription representative of The Ladies’ Home fournal, The Saturday Evening Post and The Country Gentleman. You can match or beat their records. {We can give you permanent, profitable employment in your own neighborhood, offering you regular salaries for what you do. {It doesn’t cost you a cent to begin; it pays you from the very start. Scores of our workers are earning big salaries, without a minute’s previous experience. §If you want a college education, if you want to buy pretty clothes, if you want to travel—if you want to do anything that takes money, this is the easy way to get it. You Can Do It! peseeneeeeeee Cut on this line and mail the coupon NOW | «s--=-=+===== THE CURTIS PUBLISHING COMPANY, 715 Independence Square, Philadelphia, Penna. Gentlemen: —I want you to make me the same offer that you made Miss Myrtle Mason, of Washington. es __Street_.__ ry | RPE Pars —— _State_ a. oe My Little House By Martha E. Warner OU see, I have been living in my _ little house, that \ I took so much ) pleasure in plan- / ning, almost a year. Tomeitisa dear little house— or it was until a few days ago; whose visit was like medicine that leaves a bitter taste in the mouth. She dis- sected my little house—she cruelly pulled it to pieces. My kitchen was not the right size. A partition should have been “here” instead of the dropped beam. If it had been “‘here” there would have been no place for my range, and some- how I have always felt that a stove in the kitchen was a necessity, at times a luxury, say on the days the furnaces misbehaved. And then I learned I should have had a pantry, and that it was a wonder I “lived without one.” That my breakfast room, with its buJt-in seats and its nice table, was “cute,”’ but imagine living in a house with- out a dining room and with no sideboard on which to display the “cut glass.” TO the time of my caller’s visit I was not conscious of the fact that my living room was hopelessly spoiled because it lacked an open stairway and a colonnade; or that my delicately tinted walls should have been resplendent with wall paper; or that my sofa pillows were not the latest style—they had always felt comfortable. then I hada caller ~ My caller did not notice the nice work on the rich inside chestnut trim, or the oak floors, or’ the built-in cabinets in the kitchen, or the shining white sink and drain- board, the soapstone tubs, the glass shelves. She did not notice that the house was planned so, if necessary, to conserve coal, that the kitchen, breakfast room and cham- ber could be heated from the kitchen stove; or that the breakfast room would make a cozy reading room when evening came. (My little house was built in “‘ war times.’’) My caller did not notice how the sunlight brightened and helped heat each room in winter; or the arrangements of the doors and windows so as to take advantage of every breeze in summer; or the copper screens; or the storm windows; or the steam-heating plant. No, she saw nothing of all this; she only saw the many things I might have had! ND I know she pities me because I live in a cottage, close to the heart of nature, where the view is wonderful and the sunsets are indescribable; in a cottage without a pantry to clean, without an open stairway to dust, without a colonnade to give me the shivers on a zero day, without roses or pop- pies on the walls to count, without a dining room to keep clean for company’s use, with- out anything for show, but everything for comfort and for making the work possible for me to do, for I am not blessed with a rugged constitution; but here, with the Man, in this, what was oncea “dear little house” — and I am sure it will be again—I hope to spend the rest of my days. I can almost hear grandmother say to me: “Never mind, child; you'll feel better soon. Just eat this lump of maple sugar and the bitter taste will all be gone.”” I wonder how I came to forget my maple sugar! Home Journal Books That Help, at Little Cost Our Architectural Books JourNAL BuNGALOwsS. Price, 50 cents. Journal Houses. Price, 50 cents. Your FIREPLACE AND How To Burtp It. Price, 5 cents. How TO FINANCE THE BUILDING OF A LITTLE Home. Price, 10 cents. Wuat You SHOULD KNow WHEN BUILDING A LitTLE House. Price, 10 cents. PLANNING THE LITTLE House GARDEN. Price, 10 cents. JourRNAL Brirp Houses. Price, 25 cents. For any of these books address the Book Editor, THe LAprEs’ HoME JOURNAL. WEAVING THE NEw Baskets. Price, 25 cents. BASKETS FOR GIFTS AND BAZAARs. Price, 25 cents. For these comprehensive pamphlets, which include pictures and descriptions, address the Art Department, THE LApiIEs’ HoME JOURNAL. To Help You With Your Clothes FASHION SELECTIONS FOR Aprit. Contains a forecast of summer fashions. Price, 10 cents. FASHIONS FOR Stout Ficures. Clothes to give the slenderest lines are cleverly exploited in this new illustrated book. Price, 15 cents. BaBy’s First CLotues. Helps the mother to dress baby in the most hygienic and daintiest way. Price, 15 cents. MATERNITY CLOTHES. A wise choice of suitable clothes of all kinds. Price, 15 cents. CosTUMES FOR BAZAARS AND MASQUERADES. (Patterns can be supplied.) Price, 15 cents. Tue Brive’s Book. A new edition of charming illustrations, with information regarding the bride’s trousseau needs. Price, 15 cents. SMOCKING AND How 1T 1s DoNE. Many differ- ent stitches to use in trimming children’s dresses. Price, 10 cents. EconoMIcAL MAKE-OveErRs. Ideas for women, girls and children. Price, 15 cents. Your CHILDREN’s CLOTHES. Illustrations and instructions for cutting and making. Price, 15 cents. HELPFUL SUGGESTIONS FOR MAKING CHII- DREN’s CLOTHES. Contain many short cuts to economy. Price, 10 cents. Address the Fashion Editor, THe LaAptEs’ HomE JOURNAL. ‘GENERAL SUGGESTIONS FOR THE EXPECTANT MorTHER”’—containing 12 pages of useful information. Send 15 cents to the Service Bureau, THe LApres’ HoME JouRNAL. Our Housekeeping Books Tue Goon Foop Booktets. Prepared by Anna Barrows, Instructor in Cookery, Teachers College, Columbia University. These book- lets tell how to select the five kinds of foods necessary to maintain health and they also give the reason why of weli-cooked food. Price, 10 cents each: Serving Sweets as Food—Sugar is the carbohy- drate that makes energy quickly. Serving Fat as Food—Cream, butter and other fats provide the fuel that keeps the body fires burning. Serving Minerals as Food—The right way to use and cook the vegetables and fruits that cleanse and cool the blood and regulate body activities. Good Bread Making—Wheat is our most largely used starch or carbohydrate that makes energy slowly. Body-Building Foods—The protein foods that make and repair muscle and tissue; meat, milk, fish and eggs. How To CAN Fruits, VEGETABLES AND MEATS. Price, 10 cents. How To Dry FRUITS AND VEGETABLES. Price, 10 cents. ONE HUNDRED THRIFT RECIPES. Price, 10 cents. Low-Cost MEALS FoR HicH-Cost TIMeEs. Price, 10 cents. A GuIDE TO MENU MAKING. Price, 6 cents. Address the Household Bureau, THe LapIEs’ HoME JOURNAL. Our Entertainment Books THE Book or ANNOUNCEMENTS AND SHOWERS. Price, 15 cents. HER WEppDING Day. Price, 15 cents. GAMES AND PARTIES FOR HOME AND SCHOOL. Price, 15 cents. CHILDREN’S PARTIES AND BIRTHDAY CELEBRA- TIONS. Price, 15 cents. NONSENSE ForTUuNEsS. Price, 5 cents. Tue Book or Farr Bootus. Price, 25 cents. Address the Entertainment Bureau, THE LapiEs’ HoME JOURNAL. Our Needlework Books THE NEw Book OF SWEATERS AND KNITTING. Containing the latest designs. Price, 15 cents. Tue New Book or CRoOcHET AND NEEDLE- work. Full of ideas for fancy workers. Price, 15 cents. Address the Service Bureau, THe LAptes’ HomE JOURNAL. delphia, Pennsylvania. HOME JOURNAL PATTERNS HE LADIES’ HOME JOURNAL patterns may be purchased from any store selling Home Patterns, or by mail, postage prepaid, if you address the Pattern Service, THE LADIES’ HOME JOURNAL, Independence Square, Phila- PRICE PRICE Women’s and Misses’ Dresses ._ i Fe aa a SS ee a eee Fs ee ee Waists oe eo wo 0 0 et « «6M)6|6hOMOfer Embroidery Designs ... All Other Patterns . .20 Patterns for designs lettered and numbered with three figures (for example, A-574) will be cut to measure at $1 each.

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ne: the ow nna ers ok- ods ilso od. hy- ther hires -RS. OL. JRA- nts. THE ING. Gi AA NCA AS AY ERE He Vest Pocket Autographic Kodak The vest pocket camera that will really go in the vest pocket. The contact prints are this size: Enlarged prints are easily made in this Size: The Kodak ts this ek The Prices are this size: Vest Pocket Autographic Kodak, with meniscus achromatic lens and Kodak Ball Bearing Shutter, $ 9.49 Vest Pocket Autographic Kodak, sneeteh: with Kodak Anastigmat lens, £.7.7, . 16.58 Ditto, with Kodak Anastigmat lens, /£.6. 9, ¢ : 22.58 Ditto, with Bausch & Lomb Kodak mtastianist lens, £.6.9,.°°4 , . 33.78 These prices include the war tax. A Bit of Detail: You don’t carry a Vest Pocket Kodak, you wear it, like your watch. It’s so small, so smooth, so unob- trusive that you always have it with you, ready for the unexpected that is sure to happen. The films are small and inexpensive, a roll of 8 exposures costs but 21 cents, and enlargements from the subjects that you care most about, are readily made at small cost. The $9.49 Model is entirely of metal in a handsome black enamel finish; the Specia/s are covered with a pin-grain Morocco, just suited to the dainty little instruments and their anastigmat lenses are fully corrected and carefully tested. Both models have a fixed focus, finders for both horizontal and vertical pictures, efficient shutters and have the Autographic, feature. The Vest Pocket Kodak is as right as a watch. : ¥ EASTMAN KODAK COMPANY, Rocugster, N. Y., Te Kodak City. @

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Al King and His Court T has been said that the only throne which re- mains unshaken is baby’s. He reigns supreme while adoring parents seek untiringly to give him every comfort. How carefully the tender, flower-like skin must be bathed,—what gentle treatment is necessary if the scalp is to be kept healthy, and the hair soft and silky. Mothers know all this and many of the wisest use Resinol Soap. They know it is perfectly pure and will keep At all drug and toilet goods counters. Trial Free. baby wholesome and sweet,—at the same time tending to prevent rashes and chafing. Besides being so effective for King Baby, mothers find Resinol Soap delightful for preserving and improving their own com- plexions. Use it as directed and see if you cannot feel howmuch easierthe pores breathe, after being refreshed by its soothing, cleans- ing ingredients. For the daily bath Father declares there is nothing more stimulating. He also says Resinol Shaving Stick is the best ever because it leaves his face free from the dry, burning, after-shaving effects. ESINOLN 9 APY Dept. 2-B, Resinol, Baltimore, Md.

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© BY GEO. A. AMY The Fourth Generation LATEST photograph of Mrs. E. P. Ter- hune (Marion Harland) with one of her great-grandchildren. Marion Harland, who is entering upon her ninetieth birthday, is one of the most versatile writers to-day in America, her work comprising novels, biography, travel and household books, home-making topics, essays and short stories. Over sixty books have come from her pen. Her one great secret of happiness is work—“to have something to get up in the morning for—some specific work in life; if I did not have that before me,” she says, “there would be no reason for living.” eee # Origin of ‘‘Uncle Sam.’’ In the war of 1812, between this country and Great Britain, Robert Anderson, of New York, purchased in Troy, New York, a large amount of pork for the American Army. It was inspected by Samuel Wilson, who was popularly known as “ Uncle Sam.” The barrels of pork were marked “E. A., U. S.” the lettering being done by a facetious employee of Mr. Wilson. When asked by fellow workmen the meaning of the mark (for the letters U. S., for United States, were then almost entirely new to them), he said he did not know, unless it meant ‘‘ Elbert Ander- son and Uncle Sam,” alluding to Uncle Sam Wilson. The joke took among the workmen and rapidly gained favor, until it penetrated and was recognized in every part of the country. TF The Popular Idea That Thunderstorms cause a rapid souring of milk, as well as the spoiling of meat and other foods, is probably not without foundation. Bacteriologists have attempted to explain the process by the fact that the warm, humid weather preceding a thunderstorm pro- motes the development of bacteria. The most plausible explanation, however, and one sup- ported by actual experiments, is that the re- duced atmospheric pressure accompanying the storm permits the escape from the soil of cer- tain gases, due to the decay of organic matter, and that these gases favor the development of lactic ferments. ec¢ee Queen Elizabeth of the Belgians studied medicine as a girl and was graduated with the degree of M.D. at Leipzig shortly before her marriage. geaeu8 A Birch Tree Standing in the Open has been found to give off more than 800 pounds of water a day. A man equipped with an ordinary water pail would have to make thirty-two trips in order to carry this amount of water. If he had steps up to the top of the tree and could make a round trip every ten minutes he would have to work more than five hours a day to carry this amount of water. ' ¢ t F A British Airman started at 1 o’clock in the morning in a bombing machine to attack the railway junction at Lichterwelde, in Belgium. He successfully bombed his objective, returned to bed and went on leave at 8 o’clock in the morning. In that day he flew over the lines in an airplane, drove in a motor to the docks, crossed the Channel in a destroyer, landed in a motor boat, went in a four-wheeler to the sta- tion, took a train to London and reached home by means of a “tube,” a moving stairway and a taxicab. There is a Salt River in Australia, and another, the Rio Salado, in the Argentine Re- public in South America. The Athabasca River, of British North America, has two im- portant salt branches, one of which rises in a natural salt spring, and the other has its source in the Cariboo Mountains, which contain vast deposits of salt rock. Another salt river, having its origin in a similar formation, is one of the tributaries of the Great Slave River. Many of the streams and lakes of Eastern Oregon are strongly alkaline in character. The Rio de Vinagre—the Vinegar River—of New Granada, in Central America, is sour from thé sulphuric acid in the water. The Orange River in South Africa contains matter which ren- ders it poisonous to fishes in part of its course. In Algeria there is a stream inky black and, indeed, it is only diluted ink, owing to one of its tributaries being strongly impregnated with the iron which it.imbibes from a ferruginous soil, and the other from meandering through a peat marsh, being equally rich in gallic acid, the two principal ingredients of ink. , FFF A Pearl is Built Up in Layers, like an onion. The layers are very hard, but with sufficient skill one layer after another may be removed or “‘peeled.”” Sometimes a pearl that appears dull, spotted or imperfect in shape, when peeled yields a pearl of the finest luster, and conse- quently of great value. Dull, rough pearls bought for a few shillings are sometimes sold for many thousands of dollars after having been peeled. aonee Years Ending With the Figure 8 seem to have a certain fatality in the history of kings. For instance, 1568 saw the destruction of Philip II’s hopes of an extended empire. And 1618 was the beginning of the Thirty Years’ War, with the misery which the ambition of princes brought upon Europe. The year 1628, by the Petition of Right, marked the first real revolt of the British people against the doctrine of the Divine Right, a revolt consummated in 1648. The death of Cromwell, in 1658, put a period to ‘another form of autocracy. The first Parti- tion Treaty, in 1698, was one of the landmarks in the history of the barter of peoples by their kings. The alliance of France and Spain with the United States, in 1778, brought another democratic power into full life, and the Battle of the Nile, in 1798, crushed Napoleon’s dreams of an eastern empire. And several European rulers will remember 1918 for a long time. ' Ft # Open a Book at Random and select a word within the first ten lines and within the tenth word from the end of the line. Mark the word. Now double the number of the page and multi- ply the sum by five. Then add twenty. Then add the number of the line you selected. Then add five. Multiply the sum by ten. Add the number of the word in the line. From this subtract 250, and the remainder will indicate in the unit column the number of the word you selected, in the ten column the number of the line, and the remaining figures the num- ber of the page. Some People Affect to Think that nice table manners are of recent invention, and that our grandfathers were unacquainted with dainty conduct. To show such people how wrong they are, allow us to quote from a treasured work, “Inquire Within, or 3700 Facts for the People,” published in Philadelphia in 1855: “If possible, the knife should never be put in the mouth at all, but if it is necessary, let the edge be turned outward. “The teeth should be picked as little as pos- sible, and never with the fork. “Carefully abstain from blowing the nose, rinsing the mouth or spitting while at table. ‘When napkins are provided, they are to be unfolded and laid on the knees. Use the napkin to wipe the mouth or the fingers; never as a handkerchief or to mop the brow.” '* € F £ Strange Patents are Sanctioned by the pat- ent office: a tornado-proof house, for instance, which is built on a pivot, so that every breeze turns it with its head to the wind. Among other inventions is a “pedal calorificator,”’ with which one can blow upon one’s toes to warm them. It is a tube, worn under the clothes, with a branch leading to each foot and a mouth- piece at the top. Then there are a polisher for false teeth—merely the end of a corncob stuck on a stick—a sanitary pocket for carrying chewing gum, a wooden bit for preventing snor- ing, a noiseless alarm clock that yanks the sleeper’s arm insteatl of ringing, another that starts a mechanism that throws him out of bed, and a machine for counting eggs as they are laid. ese A Curiosity of the Calendar is that a century can never begin on Wednesday, Friday or Sat- urday. eevee A Girl in Italy made a life study of the mi- nute in art. She carved on a peach stone the crucifixion of our Savior, comprising many figures, executioners, disciples, women and sol- diers—all most remarkablé for delicacy and perfection of expression and an admirable dis- tribution of groups. In the cabinet of gems in the gallery of Florence is still to be seen a cherry stone on which is carved a chorus of saints, in which seventy heads may be counted. ' Ff ¢ The Common Word ‘‘Mash”’ is from a beautiful gypsy word, ‘‘ mafada,’”’ which means “to charm by the eyes.’’ The good dictionary word ‘‘vamp” was at first a slang word, being rubbing up of old hats and shoes. Now, from being a cobbler’s word it has become a classic, and we talk of revamping the language. A “‘tin- ker’s dam”’ has nothing to do with swearing. It is merely the dam or stoppage, made of flour and water, with which the tinker stops the gap he is mending until the tin or the pewter he is using has cooled. wre The ‘‘Lost Art of Hardening Copper’? is a myth. Most of the so-called copper tools and knives of ancient origin are really alloys of cop- per and tin, and similar alloys can be made just as hard to-day, merely by hammering. PHOTOS. BY O. J. BAUMAN LITTLE Bill Telaak, of New York, takes it easy in his suitcase crib while daddy does the heavy work. Little Bill doesn’t care where he takes a nap—in the Subway, on surface cars, or any old place. Four months ago, when Little Bill was two months old, he decided he didn’t like baby wagons. He wanted to take things easy twenty-four hours a day; so his dad, Big Bill Telaak, iust naturally invented a suitcase crib, frame of steel and the rest of wire netting. In the last four months Little Bill, traveling with The Modern Baby Goes Bye-Bye his parents, has snoozed in every large cjty in America right in his own little bed. Big Bill Telaak says the new contrivance has made Little Bill healthy and strong. His picture proclaims it also. THE OFFICE DOG Scraps That He Picks Up Here, There and Everywhere A Natural Resemblance THIS rock face is Washington’s. It is lo- cated on the south beach of Waldron Island, ' a small island in Puget Sound, and is passed by many travelers unobservant of the one angle from which the “face” is clearly seen. Fr ¢ Old Fred, a Fire Horse, seventeen years old, had been retired to the park department, but he never heard the clang of the fire engine that he didn’t strive to respond. One night Old Pred was stricken ill. Evidently he realized that it was his last illness. In some way he slipped his halter, lifted the door bar with his nose and left the stable. With slow and painful steps he made his way to the fire house. The night was bitter cold and the door was closed and locked from the inside. The old horse pawed at the door, but his comrades were asleep and he failed to rouse them. Old Fred lay down on the cold pavement, with his nosé close to the bottom of the door, and it was thus that they found him. Most folks call that instinct. Isn’t it worthy of a better name? And any- way, what is instinct? That is what I call soul. ' ¢ = If You Cannot Have What You Like, try to like what you have. : FF ¢.% A Current French Scientific Journal Tells Us that, if you wish to enjoy profound and restful sleep, you should lie with your feet to the south. If you would get through a hard day’s work with a minimum of exertion, face the west. A pianist plays best when facing the west and worst when facing the south. yy tt Early Bridges. The first bridges were of wood, and the earliest of which we have any account was built in Rome 500 years B.c. The next was erected by Julius Cesar for the pas- sage of his army across the Rhine. Trajan’s great bridge over the Danube, 4770 feet long, was made of timber, with stone piers: The Romans also built the first stone bridge, which crossed the Tiber. Suspension bridges are of remote origin. A Chinese one mentioned by Kirchen, made of chains supporting a roadway 830 feet in length, was built a. p. 65, and is still to be seen. The first large iron bridge was erected over the Severn in 1777. e FF Precocity of Hindu Children. A tourist trav- eling in India wrote home that he was astonished by the precocity of the Hindu children. Many of them are skillful workmen at an age when other children are learning the alphabet. One of the most expert carvers in wood he saw was a boy of seven, and many of the handsomest and most costly rugs and carpets are woven by chil- dren not yet in their teens. 5.1" 2 £ The Bamboo Tree Does Not Blossom until it attains its thirtieth year, when it produces seed profusely, and then dies. It is said that a famine was prevented in India in 1812 by the sudden flowering of the bamboo trees, when 50,000 people resorted to the jungles to gather seeds for food. en-e4 It is an Old Belief among whalers that whales, on rising from the depths of the sea, will spout as many times as they will yield barrels of oil.

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Mrs. A.: I guess I would not let my John associate with Mr. Jones. He is a regular Sherlock. Mrs. B.: You do not mean Sherlock, you mean Shylock. Mrs. A.: I should worry; I mean the feller that made such a fuss about a pound of meat. ar. ee. 9 A Four-Year-Old Tot, riding up Fifth Avenue on a bus, gazed with childish seriousness at the Metropolitan Art Museum, then at the green stretches of Central Park beyond. ‘‘ Mother,” she said pensively, ‘I wish we had a large grassy back yard to play in, like the people in that big house.” 7+ ¢ FF ¢ A Club Cell. Lansing Mizner, of the Cali- fornia clan which has been made famous on this side of the continent by Wilson Mizner, the dramatist, dropped into the Union Club, of San Francisco, one day. ‘‘Come into the library a minute,” said a fellow member. Mizner shrank back. ‘‘Nay, nay!’ he protested. “I might drop dead in there and they wouldn’t find me for weeks. a a oe A Surgeon Was Performing an Operation on a patient when a fire started at a warehouse across the road, illuminating the whole operating theater. Having finished, the surgeon turned to the nurse and said: “The patient is coming to. I think you had better draw the blinds. I don’t want him to think the operation hasn’t been a success!” - ¥ £ In France Some American Negroes were sit- ting beside the road, away behind the battle lines, watching troops moving forward to the front. These Negroes were commenting on the names of the regiments which marched by. (Many of the regiments raised in England were named for the counties in which they were re- cruited, as ‘‘Kentish Rifles,’ ‘“‘ Northumber- land Lancers,” “Third Yorkshire Infantry,” and so forth.) As these British troops marched by, one of the Negroes took delight in calling out the name or number of the regiment. Suddenly down the road came a regiment of Highlanders in kilts. The Negroes had never before seen a ***kiltie’ regiment ”’ and one of them cried: “My! My! Look dere, Sam, what am dat? Dey is too big for women and dey cain’t be men ’cause dey is wearing skirts; what do you-all s’pose dey is?” “Why,” regiment.” said Sam, “dey is dat Middlesex "<= ¥ Not a Bat. Scour: I haven’t slept for days. TENDERFOOT: What’s the matter, sick? Scout: No, I sleep at night. , FF FF € A Short Answer. Yourtu: I want my hair cut. BARBER: Any particular way? Youtu: Yes; off. . ment.

AEMERBPA IIE Regge ce wee, © BY UNDERWOOD & UNDERWOOD leaves in Syria. carpets for the western market.

A Dining Room for Thousands THE picture shows thousands — of silkworms— being fed their breakfast of mulberry Near by are the shops where the silk itself is woven into cloths and

When You are Down in the Mouth, says a proverb, think of Jonah; he came out all right. ge ¢ Ff F “No, Sah, Ah Doan’t Neber Ride on dem things,” said an old colored lady looking in on the merry-go-round. “Why, de other day I seen dat Rastus Johnson git on an’ ride as much as a dollah’s worth an’ git off at the very same place he got on at, an’ I sez to him: ‘Rastus,’ [ sez, ‘yo’ spent yo’ money, but whar yo’ been?’” er F Ff How Complicated the Simplest Thing can be made was shown by an engineer, who said to a company: “This morning I went over to see a new machine we’ve got at our place, and it’s aston- ishing how it works.” “And how does it warke”’ asked one. “Well,” was the reply, “‘by means of a pedal attachment a fulcrumed lever converts a verti- cal reciprocating motion into a circular move- The principal part of the machine is a huge disk that revolves in a vertical plane. Power is applied through the axis of the disk, and work is done on the periphery, and the hardest steel by mere impact may be reduced to any shape.” “What is this wonderful machine?” asked. ““A grindstone.” was

Mrs. Cliff: How I do abominate the pianolas. Mrs. JoNEs: You mean them self-player pianos? Well, they are so easy to play! The temperature is written on the music and the rest you do with your feet. ' F ‘“‘My Husband is-Sure to Become Seasick, doctor,” said the young wife. ‘“*Won’t you tell him what to do?” “’Tisn’t necessary, ma’am, I said the doctor, “He'll do it.” 7 Ff ‘*Rastus,’’ Said Colonel Sparks, ‘they tell me that fine dog of yours was run over and killed while you were in church this morning.” ““Yes, sah; he wuz, sah. But I ain’t worryin’ none about it. Mah dawg, sah, wuz fully p’pared to die.”’ ‘“How’s that, Rastus?”’ “Well, sah, you see, sah, jest before gittin’ hisse’f killed he snuck into de back room of ouah chu’ch and done et up all de communion cake. He wuz fully p’pared!” assure you,” $F Ff Ff ‘Why Do You Think the contralto shuts her eyes so when she sings?” she asked at the concert. “Probably,” said her escort, can’t bear to see us suffer so.” » “because she A Village Girl Eloped in her father’s clothes. And the next day the local paper came out with an account of the elopement headed: Flees in Father’s Pants ¢ Ff Here it is at Last: the story that can’t be beat! It comes from Iowa: Seven years ago a farmer hung his vest on a fence in the barnyard. A calf chewed up a pocket of the garment in which was a standard gold watch. Last week the animal, a staid old milch cow, was butchered for beef, and the timepiece was found in such a position between the lungs of the cow that the respiration—the closing in and the filling of the lungs—kept the stem-winder wound up, and the watch had lost but four minutes in the seven years! + 20 Ft ¢# Telephone Conversation A. D. 6000. Spirit- ualistic lady has just called up her husband who is dead: S. L.: John, dear, is that you? Joun: Yes, my dear. S. L.: John, are you happy? Joun: Yes, my dear. S. L.: John, dear, are you happier than you were on earth with me? Joun: Yes, my dear. S. L. (sighing): Heaven must be a wonderful place. ° Joun: I’m not there, Mary. e F € ¢ Some Years Ago a party of prospectors were looking for minerals in the Ozark Mountains of Southeastern Missouri. It was during the month of February, and the prospectors encountered a period of very bad weather, varying from rain to snow and sleet and back again to rain. One day, when discussing the weather in the pres ence of Uncle Bill Hunter, a native Ozarkian, one of the party inquired if the weather would not change soon. “Oh, yes, hit’ll change, all right,” replied Uncle Bill. “‘ All the gosh-durned weather in the United States comes here to change.” * * ¢ F Face Value. BIL: is the cheapest? Joun: Dunno. BiLt: Your nostrils; they are two for a cent (scent). Which part of your face " ¢ ¢ F Mud Pie. First Scout: I’ve lived on vege- tables only for two weeks. SECOND Scout: That’s nothing; I’ve lived on earth for a number of years. * Ff ¢ Ff ‘There is an Exception to Every Rule’’; therefore, there is an exception to the rule that there is an exception to every rule; therefore, the rule that there 7s an exception to every rule proves that there is mot an exception to every rule. In other words, ‘‘If it is so, that proves it ain’t so!”

The Editor’s Page . Wing Dust—Ly.Lr Cook . Pagari— Rowan P. LEMLYy They Who Walk in Darkness: The “Little Flyin’ Fool’”’ BerTA Ruck Peggy Hull—Jack O’DONNELL TABLE OF CONTENTS PAGE 1 There Is No Death!—EvANGELINE Bootu ; . ar ae 7 SHORT STORIES A Look of the Copperleys—ETHEL Watts Mumrorp Danny’s Gold Star—Joun A. Moroso . Her Last Affair—Du VERNET RABELL . From Hopeless Soil—SveEtTozar TONJOROFF . Greater Than Creed—HERBERT D. WarRD The Water Baby—SaMuEL ScoviLLE, Ir. SERIALS A Poor Wise Man: I—Mary RoBeErts RINEHART . II—FREDERICK ORIN BARTLETT The Moreton Mystery: III—E.izaBeTH DEJEANS . SPECIAL ARTICLES —Dorotuy JACKSON PARMER A Virginia Viscountess—HELENA LEFROY CAPERTON Everyman’s Child: IV—Sopuire IRENE LOEB 4 Daily Life in the Diplomatic Corps—Mrs. Maurice FRANCIS EGAN . Making Politics Safe for Democracy—EsTHER EVERETT LAPE . . Why I Should Like My Boy to Marry an American Girl—and aed I Shouldn’t— All is Not Silk That Rustles—HARRISON E. Howe The Lookout on the Mountain—RupErtT BLuE , English Wives and American Doughboys—ELIZABETH BANKs . I Didn’t Know That—Did You?—H. A. STEwart , My Play Room for Children—Maset Martin Are You Your Husband’s Ward?—Mary SUMNER Boyp ARCHITECTURAL Houses to Build This Spring . Building the New Fireplace INTERIOR DECORATION The Decorative Screen. . | The Lamp as a Color Note if HOUSEKEEPING Fruit and Vegetable Fritter Entrées—HAarrRIET ELLSWORTH COATES Spring Salads—Marion Harris NEIx | Oh, Fudge!—Grace MAXWELL. . . J Two Breakfast Breads | Two Luncheon Breads { Rice Pudding Extraordinary—EFFrikE PAIGE . Cookery at a Glance—A. LouiszE ANDREA What Other Women Have Found Out . FASHIONS Dress and Character—Harry CoLLins Designs by Harry Collins The Easter Bride is Gowned in Lace and Satin Clothes for Her Honeymoon Fabrics Vie With Straw Braids in tl the New Hats Making Seven Different Waists From One Pattern NEEDLEWORK Needlework—Designed by Epwin C. Foss Children’s Crépe Dresses— Designed by HELEN Rose Needlework in Dainty Things for the Baby . POETRY CaREY EDMUNDS . Will the New Home be a Bungalow? The Sleeping Porch—Cuart.es E. WHITE, JR. ETHEL Davis SEAL . HARRIET ELLSWORTH COATES | ]

The Salvation Army Lassie—Brryt LEESON The Young Mothers’ Registry—EmeELyn LINCOLN Cootioer, 1 M. D. mi The Button Box—ArTHUR GUITERMAN Yanks and Princesses—A. EvELYN NEWMAN War Gardens on a Peace Basis—FRANCES DUNCAN A Stenographer Should Know

The Home Medicine Chest—Mary E. BAYLEY Bottle Feeding a Cause of Bowlegs—Dr. LEONARD KEENE HiRSHBERG Our Conservation Car—MarjoriE DAviIS .. The City Beautiful Movement: II—JANE LESLIE Kirt. The World’s Best Seller—FANNIE CASSEDAY DUNCAN Improving Idle Time and Idle Acres—BERTHA TAYLOR VOORHORST —HELEN ORMSBEE. Five Acres and a Tea House—HAarriET Sisson GILLESPIE A Democratic Princess--EvA RyERSON LUDGATE ; : Every Woman Should Know: ITI—A. FLorence YERGER-HAGAN , The Farm-Home Tour—HELEN JOHNSON KEYES My Model Kitchen—Mary Harrop NorTHEND My Little House—Martua E. WARNER Spring Blew Open the Door— WILLIAM GrirFiTH Gates of Paradise—Epw1n MARKHAM ; Scarlet Geraniums—RutTH MASON RICE . The Beacon Light—Murray KetcuaM Kirk \ Next Time—LeEE SHIPPEY ... f MISCELLANEOUS Rimeville Folkea—N.A.LopRgGMeOwW. .. . 1 sc cele cent He eee 6G Eggshelloogolums—MEREDITH NUGENT . . 1. @ Here’s a Way You Can Make Extra Money— —MANnacer or Tue Girts’ Cus. 75 Synopses of Serials Now Running . . a oe eae oe . 132 Home Journal Books That _— at Little Cost . —en The Office Dog ‘ . 223, 224

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aot ates Ginghams for Happiness INGHAM glows with color and vitality just as surely as the sturdy children and well- dressed women who wear‘it. Kalburnie Zephyr is a gingham with patterns sure to please. There are plaids and wide stripes for street, beach and porch dresses, and vivid plaids or narrower stripes for children’s frocks. Kalburnie Zephyr changes its patterns twice a year to keep pace with fashion’s varying color combinations. But the colors of these patterns do not change, for they are fast color. The plaid or stripe which pleases you on the counter does not dim from wind, sun or water. We will replace with an equal yardage of the same or similar pattern any piece of Kalburnie Zephyr in which the colors run or fade. Look for ‘Lancaster Kalburnie” on every yard of the selvage. Mrs. Prentiss learned the value of the fast-color gingham. You will enjoy reading of her experiences in “Mandy on Ginghams,” free upon request. Amory, Browne g Co Dept. 213, Box 1206, Boston, Mass. Nashua Woolnap Blankets Indian Head Cloth

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loetout Salk lowers of the Orient 04 Nei W Colgate Powder hee wie Ree he hae hd Fen, 4 oe eee 4 gorenian eeRO m Z sets Ba te cs ‘alee SE AIT OMS a Hig 1 ‘i ee ee eee. flowe rs of the Orient Le Colgate Co ud WEW YORK USA i « yg the color of this new Talc produced by Colgate & Co. To this color and to the charm of its thistle-down lightness there is added the graceful touch of a perfume now very much in vogue. Florient’s fragrance won an unquestioned first place in a recent international perfume contest, and in this new Talc its rich refinement adds le bon ton to the toilette, as does the dainty box to the toilette table. Please send us your request for an attractive miniature box of Florient (Flowers of the Orient) Talc, or you may purchase at your dealer’s the graceful tall box as photographed here. COLGATE & CO, NEW YORK