The Saturday Evening Post 1919-01-25: Vol 191 Iss 30

Page 1

THE SATURDAY G PO ST oO o 3 ublished Weekly at Philadelphia. Entered as Second-—Class Mat- ter, November 18, 1879, at the Post Office at Philadelphia, Under the Act of Mare 879 DRAWN BY RAH S. STILWELL WEBER Beginning THE YELLOW TYPHOON-By Harold MacGrath

Page 2

“Yes, That's The M For U. es, Lhat's Lhe /Mlotor for Us There's The Conti Red Seal” There's The Continental Red Seal The more thorough and complete the knowledge of motor values, the tronger is the insistence upon the Red Seal Continental Motor. For the experienced motorist knows that satisfaction in the ownership f an automobile depends largel ipon the power, the speed, the nomy, the relability of the motor He knows also that the possession of these qualities can be determined vith certainty only by pa t perk rmance, the infallible test of motor For well over a decade the Red Seal Continental Motor has undergon« the test of performance in hundreds of thousands of automobiles and truck Under every conceivable condition of service—in the arduou tasks of commerce, on the mud-drenched roads of France it has proved its 100% dependability Today tens of thousands of owners will have no other motor. Upward f 15,000 dealers b their business prosperity on Continental-equipped } cat More than 160 successful manufacturers of automobiles and trucks have selected the Continental after exhaustive tests and most careful analysis of its record, Look for the Red Seal on the motor in the car or truck you buy—it’s ir guarantee of motor satisfaction. CONTINENTAL MOTORS CORPORATION America’s Standard Passenger Offices: Factories: Car Motor. Look for the Red Detroit, Michigan Detroit—Muskegon Seal Nameplate. Largest Exclusive Motor Manufacturers in the World — “a he he ontinental Motors America’s Standard Truck Motor Look for the Red Seal Nameplate

Page 3

the es A ooking Toward THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 1 . 6 Dens Mite wile Lilie SRE TTTTTTTT TTT oe, at ’ , i} SSSEL CLES PSS S aseeee = * oh. rehhe ctepade te. tT at ee ee ee UR country’s commer- cial outlook for the future is exceedingly bright. The production of nearly all our industries is far in excess of home consumption and we have unprecedented opportunity for extending trade in foreign markets. Yet it must be borne in mind that production costs remain abnormally high and the need of systematic conservation is more than ever urgent. ECONOMY renewable FUSES save money, materials and time because an inexpensive little ‘* Drop Out’’ Renewal Link restores a blown Economy Fuse to its original efficiency. As compared with the use of ‘‘One-Time’’ fuses they cut annual fuse maintenance costs approximately 80° ,.. It pays to make sure that Economy Fuses are used on all your electrical circuits—at your business and in your home. Sold by leading electrical jobbers and dealers ECONOMY FUSE & MFG. CO. Kinzie and Orleans Sts. CHICAGO, U. S. A. Sole manufacturers of ‘‘ARKLESS’’— the Non-Renewable Fuse with the 100% Indicator ECONOMY FUSES ARE ALSO MADE IN CANADA AT MONTREAL

Page 4

THE SATURDAY EVENING POST Buckwheat Muffins HESE mornings when there is a nip in the air, hot buckwheat muffins displace bread in many homes. They are especially good when Crisco is used for shortening. The unusual delicacy of Crisco makes it possible to bring out the distinctive buckwheat flavor. Housewives who are accustomed to using lard for shortening and frying should try Crisco. Then they will realize what is meant by enjoying the natural flavors of foods. RISCO for Ft -For Shortenin o" "Toe Cake Making. Crisco is sweet and pure, because it is wholly vegetable and is not touched by a single hand throughout the manufacture. Crisco gives genuine satisfaction, yet it costs no more than bulk cooking fats that often carry a disagreeable taste into foods. Crisco comes in sani- tary, airtight packages, one pound net weight and upward, safeguarded from all impurities. Buckwheat Muffins A Recipe Tested and Approved by Good Housekeeping Institute, Mildred Maddocks, Director. 1 cupful buckwheat flour 1 cupful corn meal 1 egg, beaten light 1 teaspoonful salt 1 cupfuls milk 2 tablespoonfuls melted Crisco 4 teaspoonfuls baking powder © accurate level measurements Pass all the dry ingredients through the sieve together. Add the liquid ingredients and mix thoroughly. Bake in a hot, well-Criscoed iron muffin pan about 25 minutes. Rich, creamlike and of uniform quality, it always can be depended upon. Recipes That Save the Housewife Money “‘War Time Recipes”, Janet McKen- zie Hill’s new work, is a valuable addition to your practical cook books. It contains several hundred tested recipes for appetizing and cconomical foods that will enable housewives to make their allow- ances go farther. The founder of the Boston School of Cooking tells how to use all conservation flours properly. Get a copy. Send one to a friend with your Happy New Year greeting. Published at 25 cents we will send a copy for 10 cents in stamps. Address Department K-1, The Procter & Gamble Co., Cincinnati, Ohio. QT cS Lat Soa oF < — ERS 18 fe fe _ January 25,1919

Page 5

Published Weekly The Curtis Publishing Company shter > Williom Bord. Advertising Director Independence Square, Philadelphia London: 0. Henrietta Street — = ” ine . George Horace Lorimer EDITOR F. S. Bigelow, A.W. Neo), H. D. Walker, E. Dinsmore. Associate Editors Cyrus H. K. Curtis, President ° C.H. Ludington, Vice-President and Treasurer Walter H. Dower, Art Edito: PS. Callan, Gawerel Bhalioes. Manades bx wD. Falter, Secret Entered as Second-Class Matter. November It 1879, at the Post Office ot Philadelphia °D! s Ah B hd F kli Under the Act of March 3, 1879 Founded A’D' 1728 4y Benj. Franklin Entered as Second-Class Matter at the } Covent Garden. W. C Copyright, 1919, by the Curtis Publishing Company in the United States and Great Britain Post-Office Department, Ottawas, Canada j | | “OP Sc. THE COPY 10c. in Canada Volume /9/ PHILADELPHIA, JANUARY 25, 1919 $2.00 THE YEAR by Subscription Number 30 I Loitered Until Reminded Sharply That I'd Better Pour Leather Into That There Skate if I Wanted to Make Home That Night T HAD been a toilsome day for Ma Pettengill if that’s what killing your mother is called. She anime. Since sunup we had ratden moe RW Teuriry Leo Wilksomn :s\:01 92 voit woasing dovn actos the than a score of mountain miles on horses that could seldom exceed a crawl in pace. At ILLUSTRATED B dawn we had left the flatlands along the little mbered river, climbed to the lava beds of the first mesa, traversed a sad stretch of hese where even the sage grew scant, and come, by way of a winding defile that was oon a mounting canon, into big hills unending. Here for many hours we had labored over furtive, tortuous trails, aimless and lost, t might have seemed, but that ever and again we came upon small bands of cattle moving one way. These showed that we had a mission and knew, after all, what we were about These cattle were knowingly bent toward the valley and home. They went with much f a businesslike air, stopping only at intervals to snatch at the sparse short grass that s about the roots of the sagebrush. They had come a long journey from their grazing he range went bad and water holes dried, and now seemed glad indeed to give up the wild free life of a short summer and become tended creatures again, where strangely thoughtful humans would lavish cut grass upon them for certain obscure but doubtless benevolent purposes of their own. It was our mission this day to have a look-see, mebbe as far as Horsefly Mountain, and get a general idee of how many head was already coming down to eat up the so-and- so shortest hay crop that had ever been stacked on the Arrowhead since the dry winter of 98, when beef fell to two cents a pound, with darned few takers. at that. It was really a day of scenic delight, if one ha-in’t to reflect sorely upon the exigencies of the beef-cattle profession, ard at least one of us was free of this thrall. What we reached at last were small mountains rather than big hills; vast exclamatory remnants of shattered granite and limestone, thickly timbered, reckless of line, sharp of peak. One minute canon we viewed from above was quite preposterous in its ambi- tions, having color and depth and riot of line in due proportions and quite worthy of the grand scale. It wasn’t a Grand Cafion, but at least it was a baby grand, and I loitered on its brink until reminded sharply that I’d better pour leather into that there skate if I wanted to make home that night. I devoutly did wish to make home that night, for the spot we were on was barren of those little conveniences I am accustomed to. Moreover, the air was keen and a hunger, all day in the | ling, called for strong meats. So I not too reluctantly passed on from this scenic miniature of parlor dimensions—-and from the study of a curious bowlder thereby which had intrigued me not a little. » Now we were home and relaxed by the Arrowhead fireside, after a moving repast of baked young sage hens. The already superior dynamics of the meal, moreover, had been appreciably heightened by a bottle of Uncle Henry’s homemade grape wine, which he warmly recommends for colds or parties, or anything like that. It had proved to be a wine of almost too recent a cru. Ma Pettengill said that if Uncle Henry was aiming to put it on the market in quantity production he had ought to name it the Stingaree brand, because it was sure some stuff, making for malevolence even to the lengths of matricide, places, starting when racks of a big city it would have the ambulance F R GRUGER and patrol wago! quicker than usual clar ging up a good half hour to the mendin Be that as it may, or is, when I had expected sleep to steal swiftly of the day’s ravages I merely found myself wakeful and wondering. This stuff of Unck Henry's is an able ferment. I wondered about a lot of things. And at the n I wondered interminably about that remarkable bowlder at the side of the Tom Thumb Lime Grand Cafion. I was even wakeful enough and discursive enough—my hostess had taken but one glass from the bottle to wonder delightedly about all rocks and stone and geology, and that sort of thing. It was almost scientific, the way I wondered, as J sat there idly toying with my half-filled glass Take this particular bowlder, for example. It had once been mere star dust, hadn't it? Some time ago, I mean, or thereabouts. But it had been star dust; and then, next ly foreigners patch our thing it knew, it got to be a kind of cosmic stew, such as leisure highways with, and looking no more like a granite bowlder than anything Then something happened, like someone letting the furnace fire go out the night of the big freeze; and this stuff I’m talking about grew cold and discouraged, and quit flat, apparently not caring a hoot what shape it would be found in years and years later, the result being that it was found merely in the general shape of rocks — or bowlders, to use the more scientific term— which is practical!y no shape at all, as you might say, being quite any shape that happens, or the shape of rocks and bowlders as they may be seen on almost every hand by those of us who have learned to see in the true sense of the word I have had to be brief in this shorter science course on the earth’s history before the time of man, because more important matters claim my attention and other speakers are waiting. The point is that this bowlder up there by the dwarf cahon had survived from unremembered chaos; had been melted, stewed, baked and chilled until it had no mind of its own left; then bumped round by careless glaciers until it didn’t care where it came to rest; and at last, after a few hundred million years of stony unconcern for its ultimate fate, here it had been drawn by the cunning hand of man spang into the ymiplex mechanism of our industrial human scramble That is to say, this bowlder I speak of, the size of a city ha ng there in noble neglect since long before wise old water animals were warning their childret he fool talk about how you could go up out of the water and walk round on dry land ld get folks into trouble, because how could a body breathe up there when there wasnt > j ; i any water to breathe in? And the fools that tried it would soon find - right! Well, I mean to say, this bowlder that had lain inert and indifferent whil ages wrought man from a thing of one cell— and not much of a cell at that —borea that face of it nearest the winding trail a lettered appeal, as from one man to anot! The letters were large and neatly done in white paint and the brushwork was rece WAGNER'S SYLVAN GLEN, ONLY THIRTY-TWO MILES. HERMAN WAGNER, SOLE i’ROP.

Page 6

n Na ‘ i e if we but search diligently I even big ch like th which are too big to build é reven courthouse f Ma ve not, at least, paint ‘ ' ‘ n pla ett with periods and commas, Sor nd thus give added impetus to whatever 1 } ening t } | t evening wea n and the hipping mental urge ipe iice meddied with by Uncle Henry wears off, And before it all ends, what about Herman Wagner, Proy f Wagner in Giler i has been a hard da but let us try to get the ! 1eT Wi not begil iuliou with a series of Wi i ila an gien in a country where ‘ v ontinuousl and overwhelmingly yivan heave a k without hittingaglen? Rea at lam earnestly ! rina er doesn t matter Wi y to ge 1 uf Herman Wagner wanted to be ‘ fa in giler } hould he have gone t t I farther for one? Why didn’t he have it ht there W nsanely push thirty-two miles on in a where meat omething serious? Up-and d ’ ‘ it hor \ r standing or edge! It didt em astute And Herman achieved simply no ‘ iasion whatever with me by sticking in that ‘only.’ He lhave put “« ill over the rock and it would still } “ thirty-two mile wouldn't it? Only, indeed! You t think the in wa iying “Only ten minute i mm the post office ia or omething with a real meaning like that I claimed then and I claim now that he hould have omitted the only and come out blunt with the truth. There are times in tl world when the straight bitter truth is better without any word-lace This Wagne r person Was a sophist So I said to him, now, as a man will it time “All right Herman, old top! But you'll have to think up something better than ‘only’ to put before those thirty two mile If you had said ‘Only two miles’ it might have had its message for me. But thirty more than that! Be reasonable! Why not pick out a good glen that parties can slip off to for a quiet evening without breaking up a whole weel Frankly, | don’t understand ou and your glen, But you can bet I'll find out about it!” ito Ma Pettengill and papers and who by this stuff out on I said to nearly half a bottle of Uncle Henry's to, right away, I saic time had a lot of bill her desk ind her that there wa ledye and was talking hotly to all of them wine left, his rare old grape wine laid down well over a month ago o she had better toss off a foamy beaker of it yes, it still foamed ind answer me a few questions It was ther he aid the thing abou that there wine being able tou flate the casu alty lists, even of Polish wedding which ready ure i! the hig! est known to the society page of our police-court records She aid, furthe that she had tor just enough DI the stuff at dir ner to make her think she wasn't entirely bank rupt and he wanted to rive these here «a count a thor ough going-over while the sensa tion lasted Not wishing to hurt Unel Henry's feeling even if he didn’ catch me at it, I partook again of the fervent stuff and fell into new wonder at the eeming imbecil ity of Hermar Wagne l found myself not a lit tle moved by the pathos of him It was little enough I could get from Ma Pet tengill at first Nerman Threw Kisses to Her for THE SATURDAY EVENING POST She spoke almost shortly to me when I asked her things she had to stop adding silly figures to answer. What I found out was mostly my own work, putting two and two in their fit relationship. Even the mention of Herman Wagner's full name brought nothing about him- elf. I found it most annoying. I would say: ‘Come on, now; what about this Herman Wagner that paints whee- dling messages across the face of Nature?’”’ And to this fair, plain query I would merely have more of the woman’s endless help troubles. All that come looking for work these days was stormy petrels, not caring if they worked or not—just asking for it out of habit. Didn't she have a singing teacher, a painless dentist, 1 crayon-portrait artist and a condemned murderer on her this very minute, all because the able-bodied had gone over to see that nasty little Belgium didn’t ever again attack Germany in that ruthless way? She had read that it cost between thirty and thirty-five thousand dollars to wound a soldier in battle. Was that so? Well, she’d tell me that she stood ready to wound any of these that was left behind for between thirty and thirty- five cents, on easy payments. Wound ’em severely, too! scratche Presently again I would utter Herman Wagner, only to be told that these dry cows she was letting go for sixty dollars—you come to cut ’em up for beef and you’d have to grease the saw first. Or I heard what a scandal it was that lambs actually brought five-fifty, and the Govern- ment at Washington, D. C., setting back idly under the ! outrage! Then I heard, with perfect irrelevance as to Herman Wagner, that she wouldn't have a puncher on the place that he’d use him gentle all day and steal grain for him at night. Also, that she had some kind of rheumatiz in her left shoulder; but she’d rather be a Christian Scientist and fool herself than pay a doctor to do the same. It may all have been true, but it was not important; not germane to owned his own horse. Because why? Because the issue, as we so often say in writing editorials. It looked so much like a blank for Herman Wagner that I quit asking for a time and let the woman toil at her foolish ruinous tasks, After half an hour of it she began to rumble a stanza of By Cool Siloam’s Shady Rill; then I chanced it again, re- marking on the sign I had observed that day. So she left her desk for a seat before the fire and said yes, and they was other signs of Herman’s hid off in the mountains where no one but cows, that can’t read a line, would ever see ’em. She also divulged that Herman himself wasn’t anything you'd want a bronze statue of to put up in Courthouse oquare Ten Minutes From on Top of the Woodshed, Where He Was Safe January 25,1919 Well then, now! What about him? No, sir: not by a darned sight! With that there desk full of work, she simply could not stop to talk now. She did. come on, Is that the only sign of Herman’s you saw? He’s got others along them trails. You'll see an arrow in white paint, pointing to his sylvan glen, and warnings not to go to other glens till you’ve tried his. One says: You’ve tried the rest; now try the best! Another says: Try Wagner’s Sylvan Glen for Boating, Bathing and Fishing. Meals at all hours! And he’s got one that shows he studied American advertising as soon as he landed in this country. It says: Wagner’s Sylvan Glen— Not How Good, But How Cheap! I don’t know. J ain’t made up my mind about Herman, even yet. If it wasn’t for why he had to leave Nevada and if I knew there could be more than one kind of German, then I'd almost say Herman was the other kind. But, of course, there can’t be but one kind; and he showed the Prussian strain fast enough in why he come up from Reno. Still and all, he’s got his engaging points as a pure imbecile or something. He don't tell me why he left Reno for a long time after he gets here; not till I’d won his confidence by showing I was a German sympathizer. It was when Sandy Sawtelle had a plan for a kind of grand war measure. His grand war measure was to get some secret agents into Germany and kill off all the women under fifty. He said if you done this the stock would die out, because look what the game laws against killing does! He told this to everybody. He told it to Herman; but Herman knew enough to remain non- committal about it. He told it to me, and I saw right off it probably couldn’t be managed right; and, even if it could be, I said to Sandy, it seemed to me somehow like it would be sort of inhuman. Herman heard me say this and got the idea I was a pacifist and a secret friend of his country; so he confided to me the secret of why he left Reno to keep from having his heart cut out by Manuel Romares. But no matter! Anyway, last year in the spring this Herman dropped by, looking for work. He hadn’t been in America long, having stopped with his uncle in Cincinnati a while, and then coming West on a life of adventure and to take up a career. He said now he’d come up from Nevada, where he’d been working on a sheep ranch, and he acted like he wanted to get into something respectable and lead a decent life again. Well, it had got so I hired everything that come along; so why not Herman? The boys heard he was a German alien and acted, at first, like a bunch of hogs with a bear about; but I'd of hired old Hinderburg himself if he'd offered and put him to doing something worth while. This Herman was the first man ever worked here in side whiskers He told me, after I showed myself a German sym- pathizer, that in the beginning of the war he’d wore one of them mustaches like the Kaiser puts up in tin fasten- every night after he’s said his prayers; but this had made him an object of un- pleasant remark, including siles. So he had growed this flow- ering border round it to take off the curse. They beautiful ers mis- was shiny side whiskers and entirely innocent- looking. In the right clothes Herman could of gone into any Sabbath school in the land and said he was glad many bright little faces there this morn- to see so ing, and now what was to- day’s golden text, and so on (Continued on Page 52

Page 7

———s THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 5 Tile YELLOW TYPHOON NAVAL officer, trig in his white twill, strode Hdl Forgive? What manner of fool along the Escolta, Manila’s leading thor- By Jlaro Mae Grath written me down? Forgive? I gave you: oughfare. There was something in his stride man's love-—and you picked my pocket that suggested anger; and the settled grimness of ILLUSTRATED BY WiItLt GRESFSE not give two coppers to place on your his lips, visible be- Take you home? Innocent child! tween !f mustache f good sign Still, “Ah! Then it is war? and short beard, and there was some “War to the end, pretty cobra! You don't uppose | the hard brightne t ig in the ele came here with any other idea?” of his blue eyes en vation of his jaw How she hated this man! Hated him because she had phasized this sugge and the set of his never beaten him, never seen him cringe or heard him plead tion. He was ang powerful shoul She, too, would remember that night in Yokohama, six 1 ders she did not years gone After the blow, lence not a word or a look like Stonily he had packed up his belor gings and pone to the What he saw Yokohama Club, whence he had gone aboard a cruiser in \ f was a woman of the morning. From that moment until th he had never i a medium height, laid eyes on him. Every six months a check came; but y slender but per- even that lacked h gnature idraft from ¢ } War! lor Six fectly molded, so be it He would leart hen she began toturn the re me- You | take me ed } me 1 1 acknow emed to edge m¢ ‘ m- whipped back at hin nad tne Ackno edge a l what north As your wife ind in torn the chaff from Avain he laughed ear thought: rou are not m ter once fe, and never have face and form been.” ol at inge ind= =the eart fa And ho Vul you Messalina! I e it He had kr t g tnat Tha ll be easy me day she id irn up w Curiou old vorid lanila. [twa | e lor them ! t’? | thought ( the tem} t ! ( ie when | rece ed oul ‘ nhandiwort ers, the rT t ‘ that no ig , return to the But he had ould satisfy me but ner 1 had he ! he nhollo DI to wring i ech I 1. All the fea f her wa And all | int i gone rh alter! n he ould | because I’m each her t the rd meant ire it would p ( al tuck These ou! I know You ordid things could pop up head of urs scheme nto the ive even get into ilhiatior candal ind all the pape ind st be in, kme is The ¥ forgotten. But the Na ming to be the fe of vas the kne of advance- Hall ‘ ampagil the ment It never mattered if torming the la gate, getting the wrong was wholly on the No, Berta; it isn’t going other side; the result was the happen at all On the contrary, you will leave Manila ame. But he had her, thank on the first ship out.” God! The world would never He Flung Her Roughty Back sey the Divan, Stalked From the and if T refun Room and Closed the Door , know what I turned Bob Bibilid prisor Though we are very busy militarily our Hallowell intoa misanthrope. The tentacles of the octopu young, beautiful, exquisite. Her hair was the color of spur ‘ | courts have plent f time to try a prime case of had been lopped off as by a miracle. He was a free mar molasses, lustrous because the color genuine, Her bigam War You will jolly well find out!” Never would he forget the shame and misery, the horror eyes were velvety purple. Her skin was milk-white, wit! Bigamy! of that night in the Grand Hotel in Yokohama. The ahint of peachblow under the eyes and temples. The ma: ‘Sure. Lieutenant Graham is dead, and I had charge of yrazenness of that confession—on the first night of his vel of her lay in the fact that she never had to make up his effect ] found some interesting letter These led me honeymoon! He was free, yes, but he would never be able The devil had given her | those effectives for which most to the Protestant Episcopal Cathedral, where our name to blot out that infernal night Well, he had her. She womenstrivein vain. Innocence! She might have stepped and his were neatly inscribed on the register x montt hould leave Manila on the first ship that left port; it did out of one of Bouguereau's masterpiece At one corner of | before you laid your trap for me. You found after you had not matter whether it went north or east. If she proved her mouth was the most charming mole imaginable. You married him that he wasn’t the Graham who had inherited obdurate he would have her arrested. To lure a man to’ might look at her nose, her eyes, the curve of her chin, but a fortune. Marriage! It seems to be a mania th you ove her, to marry her, and on the wedding night confess invariably your glance returned to the mole. The devil How many of us poor devils have you rooked th your hat she was already married; and then—if a man was finishing touch—it permitted you to see the mouth ind infernal beauty? What’s God's idea, anyhow? Or t proud—blackmail! He would fight her tooth and nail rectly, and you lost the salient, a certain cruel hardnes the devil himself who fits you out, covers your black heart The world had changed since that night. The old order He waited with an ironical twist to one corner of h with alluring flesh? No matter. The first ship out or had gone to smas} nee August, 1914. Traditions had mouth. But in his heart there was great rejoicing. Aside Bibilid. | have warned you.” been badly mauled by necessities. Such a scandal, in from the initial chill, nothing—not a thrill, not a tingle at Then he did something that he afterward regretted which he had been merely the dupe, would scarcely leave the roots of his hair. He could look upon her beauty wit! But malice burned so hotly in |} eins that he i i ripple sing. Who would care, these tremendous out a single extra heartbeat. He was free, spiritually a resist the impulse He walked over to he ind before times? well as legally. he could comprehend his purpose swept her int i He stopped abruptly. His thoughts had almost carried ‘Well?”’ he said. held her tightly for a moment and kissed he Phe him past the hotel, one of those second-rate establishments “IT came to Manila, to you, because I am tired and flung her roughly back upon the diva tulke fr ich you find in all Oriental cities that are seaports, repentant, and want a home. I am growing old. I lied room and closed the door with an empha hotels full of tragic and sordid histories. He entered, ran that night. I wasn’t married to anyone else.” claimed that it was to stand between them ete ip the first flight of stairs, scrutinized the numbers on two He laughed and rested his shoulders against the door Once he reached the street he spat and rul doors, and paused before the third. He raised his hand There was a repressed volcanic flash in her eye That energetically. He had been a fool to do tha le ind struck the } A touch of vertigo seized him. laugh did not presage well lipped down to her level. But, hang it a Supposing his love for the Jezebel was still a living thing “Is it so hard to forgive?”’ Vocal honey vay he could make her feel anything, the per! and needed only the sight of the woman to revive it? “‘What is it you really want?" he asked, perfectly will- A fool indeed; for later that act was , ‘Come in!” ing to see the comedy to its end dearly He opened the door and closed it behind him, standing ““A home--with you. I know, Robert, that I was a He left behind a tableau. Not until | footste lied vith his back to it He did not take off his hat A cold wretch in those days. But the world over here—men, the away did the woman stir. Then she sprang t er fed ttle shudder ran over him. She was more beautiful than temptation, the primordial instinct of woman to fight man fury. She swept her hand savagely across her mout} ever. with any weapon she can lay a hand to! Won't you take too, spat. “‘Oh!”’ she cried through her tee ! She rose from a dilapidated corduroy divan, pressed the me back and forgive?”’ of animal roar. She seized the divan | tore at it, and coal of a cigarette into the ash tray, and faced him, her air “Take care, Berta! Don't waste those tears! In your ent it hurtling across the room Oh! one of hesitance and timidity. What she saw was a squat eyes they are pearls without price. Don't waste them on ‘There, there; enough of that, Berta! muscular body, a beautiful head with a rugged kindly face me.”’ A man stepped from behind the ree! He She noted the hair, shet with silver. That was always a “Then you won't forgive?” for three thing his bulk, } traw-c ed hair, and th

Page 8

THE SATURDAY EVENING POST h ruddy face. The en Bu letall somenow Ther " ‘ ig? Ku at the back ‘ ‘ ‘ ere Nua i bad ‘ lel everything ‘ ‘ istefu I ? ‘ ‘ rf 1 I do not i i Lit y ‘ ead ' j thir ar hit ler eady to lea if oul ivht eg You'll goto Tondo be ‘ e let ipla ir game; now u'll help When tl done we'll return to the e nabol 1 tell 1, Berta, there a D i ( but not ar more eve been a istomed te rhese Amer The man switched into Danis! These jon't si t apie the urre ther ind ba Ye gods! By the i I've got a little | iggled in last Wu Fang making them ints coat that er ina the State ! dainf l He ! othed he ha hut it wa e she begar " ‘No nonsense We'll here at e. [ll take you to the Tondo and n that Chinese costume of your You can " ind I'll be out frequently. I'll fix you fuy t You can wear a cap outside cle it Vv J 1 tter il the native “~~ your » wet f nava nportance? he mused the Fatherland will pay a million. One of the world, here in Manila; and it’ the i f that experimental husband of wl | wanted vou out there There is a if 1 if | in t land the big yoose | can e ¢ Dy the } ! ple ve can lear ‘ t break him?” leg r eacef nto the Tondo. The thought of ‘ ‘ i Y Make him pay lor } off at arm's length. “‘ You're a queer ppose there 1 man on earth you really fraid of n ha , hold i Nx Ye ire genera ensible and {1} er ‘ wile You're a port ‘ ! one lea it head —to tl ‘ ind ¢ pt their pocket 1} ’ ivs hated ther Asa child I P t hye tris t } me 1 was born that t ive neve ed to Perhaps I am the w gs mat 1 has done womankind They never re even you-—-that | don't ind t bee! essiul for one reas¢ 0 “Naval officers, and inherently afraid of scandal English and American, proud You may thar God you never tried your game on me. Your pretty nec vould have been twisted long ago Mark me, Berta, you are mine. Never try to play any of t e tricks on me. If you do I'll kill you with bare hands. To youl am a reliable business part- Remember you re the one womarl “My Cabin is Opposite Yours, If a Submarine Shouid Pop Up You'll Promise to Come for Me?" What's behind that day in San Francisco when of my tery \ you decided to cast your lot with mine? More than seven } and I’ve never found out. Some man; and be- cause he did not give you a square deal —all these wreck “Do you want the truth? You are the first man who laid his hand on me. I ran away from a humdrum ears gone world. I‘wanted adventure, swift, red-blooded. I’m a \ ng daughter.” I can believe that. It’s the game, the sport. Typhoons! That’s you. You come and go across men’s lives exactly like a typhoon. Wherever you pass—wreckage. But our captain seems to have escaped.” ‘| have your promise in regard to him.” The man laughed. ‘‘That’s one of your charms; you What are you Dane, Finn? To this day I don’t know. But always keep in your pretty head that you are mine. Marry them, kiss them, and say but always recollect that I’m under the latticed After all it’s just as well you didn’t go out to San Miguel. The captain has a partner. He'd have too much for ou stick it out German, good-by; window been “In what way?” “Your way. Handsomest man in the Islands, and rich. Hle’s to be transferred shortly to the Atlantic. And if I’ve got the right of it you and I are going to be very much rested in his ‘Rich and handsome,” she said ruminatingly. ironically. “‘An officer who has never I dig up You would have about ce with him as I would in a sampan in the A hand- young man, who carries a Rajputana parra- him travels—a talking parrakeet. ybody in Manila has heard about that bird.” A handsome and a talking ; **T never heard What’s he journey The man smiled had an affair; ice where women are concerned. their histories; part of my game. as much chat middle of one of your happy-go-lucky typhoons yme vigorous Kee with when he young man with The woman began to laugh. like that I am interested. money parrakeet ! before. an took out a wallet, from which he drew a news- paper clipping. “*Th ‘He is handsome ’s a good likeness Good heavens!”’ Black Ellison, wanted for diamond robbery and assault in San Francisco.” “The two look enough alike to be useful, maybe. Nota physical likeness; it’s merely photographic. I never over- If he takes the journey I have in mind it Photographically they look enough alike “But this isn’t he; it’s a crook’s look anything may be of use to be a twins January 25,1919 The woman returned the clipping, her She walked slowly over to a somber eyes window and stared dow into the street — without see- ing anything of the busy life d ; ua 4 WEI eve 0O' T San Miguel way there - e. are many two-storied 7 brick villas with Spanish red tiles. Sometimes there will be three or four al- most neighborly, then e aloof and alone. In Manila most white folk live upstairs, the serv- ants down. It permits white folk to talk over their affairs without listeners—and the servants to run away to cockfights as often as they dare. One of these isolated villas walled in, except on the river side, by a wall of rubble coated with whitewash. Rising the chevaux-de-frise of broken fringe of feathery bam- boo There wa was above bottles was a sanalley of these trees from the There was also a garden; but the precise formality with which it had been gate tothe door laid out was a mute stimony to the womankind l¢ absence ol Two Americans lived here bachelors. They were officer in the United States Navy. Ar odd pair, agreed official and social Manila; and after futil Odd, efforts to make friends with them, dismissed them because bachelor officers who have incomes outside their pay are generally gay sailormen. Off duty these two formed an association of They except officially, and avoided women as other men avoided the plague. One of them was woman-shy; them, it was said hermits never went anywhere the other hated For two years now this pair had been assigned to shore Captain Hallowell would in experiment all probability never had severely duty. go to sea again actively. An injured one of his eyes, though the defect was not notice- Lieutenant Commander Mathisor They were as unlike able was a paymaster. physically as possible for two men to be He was short, His head and short beard were shot with silver, though his musta: Hallowell was the dreamer, the thinker hic K, rugged and a trifle gray e was still black There was something about him that reminded you of the You were likely idea in your head until you knew him; then you understood Bernard roused, gorilla. to carry thi the gentlest dog ir the world until thoroughly They woman hater with some justice, thoug! Manila ever learned the facts, not ever surmised that Hallowell had run afoul woman and had got past the reefs by a hair. Mathison was the man of action. He was tall, the same category as the St | called him a no one in officia 1 Matt some ison, who worthless siender and handsome, with a smooth olive skin This deep color gave conspicuity to his gray eyes, the whit of which were dazzling. Every line and turn of his face gave you the impression that by nature he was amiable in the ex treme. Given cause he could be as savage and relentles as the gorilla his friend resembled W oman-shy they called him, because they could find no other suitable name for the puzzle. He was always courteous when, by those accidents of chance called offic But there al receptions, he found himself among women was always a cold reserve the brightest eyes could not batter down. were many teminine He was the combination of two things women and good Rest assured there campaigns prize hig greedily or sentimentally —money looks. What had the aspect of shyness was merely an idea, held to with surpassing resolution. I shall tell you about this idea later on. There are, here and there across this world, men like Mathison who are neit! timonious nincompoops. They are the type from which explorers come, men who know how to live alone, to whom the most necessary and alluring thing in life is to overcome obstacles. This resolution had toughened Mathison morally and Packed away in that lithe body of his was mollycoddles nor sant r are not gregarious—they physically.

Page 9

—e THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 7 tremendous vitality. He was perfectly willing to be called hy. Such a reputation was a considerable barri- cade. He was content to rest behind it. There had been tter conflicts. There are certain fires which hyp- notize; one must reach out and touch them. I might say woma battles, bi that this idea of his was always in a state of siege. After this exposition it sounds odd to remark that Math- ison was as full of romance as a Chinese water chestnut is of staré hat his daydreams were peopled with lovely women. He never saw a beautiful woman that he did not clothe her in his colorful imagination. He mmediately rescued her from Chinese pirates, he was shipwrecked and ast away on a desert island with her, he tore her from the hands of brigands or the latticed window of some rajah’s haremlik; and he always married her in the end. Every- thing in him inclined toward the companionship of women, and he had built a Chinese wall round this inclination. Among men, however, he was companionable, witty, humorous, and full of sound common sense. But no one ever called him Jack; not even Hallowell, the best friend he had. He was always John or Mathison to his equals and superiors, and “‘Sir’’ to his subordinates. Hallowell, how- ever, had compromised on Mat. For all this, Mathison bubbled with personal magnetism. You never get deeply into a naval officer’s character by rubbing elbows with him in wardrooms or officers’ clubs. If you want to know the real man go down into the boiler the gun rooms, anywhere but the quarter-deck. The roughnecks will tell you. They sometimes weigh you with a glance. Two things they require of you—absolute ustice and firmness. That was Mathison to his men; and he always backed these attributes with a smiling eye. There something in the snap of his voice that inclined men to obey him at once, without question; not that they vere afraid of him but that they knew he was right. Inthe Navy—in all navies—there are underground wireless tatior 4 man’s reputation travels from ship to p; and when an officer is transferred the men try him jut just tosee whether his crown is of tinsel or of gold. A fighting sailor, with a born gambler’s interest in hance, winning or losing with a mile, as you shall see, thirty years f age, and no anchor to windward, He never forgot anything. They [ that he could hide his ollar button during a rooms a " iream and go directly to} n tne morning. Hallowell, nowever, Was very absent minded Often he would go about the living room in search of hi pipe, in the end to find it dangling from his teeth. Or he would f face with his spec- acles on, and wonder wl n thunderation ailed his ound eye, Hallowell, too, was full of romance — miracles in eel, visions which cast nto } ipe huge fil ting machines,tremendous guns, lying torpedoes. He was, aside from his official juties, a successful in- or. Few of the grim floating forts of the Navy were without certain de- vices of his. He had just ompleted plans that even- lally were going to cause the German Admiralty a good deal of anxiety. There were still two or three points he had not cleared up to his own satisfaction. The plans were absolutely com- plete as they tood; but he believed he saw a chance to reduce the complexity of ertain phases; and he was hammering away at this ter hours, often problem a far into the night. | j Mathison, Hallowell and \ Company the company / being the Rajp itana par- N rakeet. An odd pair of men, rather misunderstood, with iew inti- , sharing a deep, abiding love never spoken of but tacitly understood. They were jocularly known as The Two Orphans and the villa as The Orphanage, as both men were without immediate family ties. Lately Hallowell had formed the habit of going to the Botanical Gardens for a half hour’s ramble between four and five. He had discovered that this mild exercise cleared his mind of all routine and left it free for creative musings. He tramped about the pat! behind his back, the tip of his short gray-peppered beard projecting like a bows lar. I doubt if during these ple asant peregri ons he ever saw anything but the white markings on blue prints. Half an hour to the minute, then he would shake off the spell, set his shoul hurry away for the trolley for San Miguel Having delivered his ultimatum to as The Yellow Typhoon, and having learned on the follow ing day that she had left the hotel in the Escolta, all thought of her went out of his mind completely. It was an unhappy page turned down for good. But to-day, one is at a moderate gait, his hands week later, as he came out of his daydreams she popped into his head. A wave of shame ran over him. He would never forgive himself for that violence. Not that he felt any pity toward the woman. The act had lowered himself eternally in his own eyes; the luster was gone f self-esteem. He had kissed another man’s wife, not his own. And what was worse, she might interpret the act as a sign that he still cared for her and try to reénter his life at some later day. Fool! A mad impulse to hurt the woman, and he had hurt only himself. Well, the damage was done; berating his folly would not wipe it off the slate. rom his 2 : J ae ~~ oi 3 Mathison Fought Nausea, Terror, Fought the Paralysis Gathering in Hie Legs, and Pushed Through the Curtain Suddenly hi uund eye lost its introspective look and became alert. Coming down the path toward him was a woman She was dressed in pongee, a sola topee on I head. Round tl sun helmet ran the folds of a gray ve which could be lowered or raised at will At this moment the woman’s face was cleat It wa young and vividly beautiful Her hair was a ruddy gold like the tips of ripe wheat after rain. The sun, directly behind her, cast a golden nimbus on each side of her head. Her eyes were purple blue like wood violets, and her skin was the tint of pale amber She walked with the free stride of one who love the alr and sunshine sie iw Ha ell only after he had deliberately stepped in front of her, blocking the Way Her mouth opened slightly and a vague bewilderment took the zest from her fact t ‘Still in town, then?”’ ‘Sir!”’ He interrupted with a laugh. ‘You're magnificent; I'll always grant you that. You should have gone on the stage. But I’m no longer to be fooled. The pearl is gone from the oyster, the Juice from the orange; so why tarry, pretty blackmailer? 1 warned you to clear out, and | thought you'd have sense enough to do so. To-morrow morning I'll hunt for you; and if | find you Ul hav uu locked up. God knows how you men doit! Here you are, straight out of perdition, with more beauty than ever. And innocence! That’ e pitfall, your look of innocence el tl Chat’s what draws us poor trusting fools. Well, the night to clear out in If I find you to-morrow I'll stamp on you as Lwould on a cobra. The Yel low Typhoon! Some poor devil named you well. But you'll never break another white man, not in these parts. I apologize for those kisses. I forgot you weren't my wile I’m giving you until morning.’ Insolently he swung on his heel and marched down the path The woman remained exactly where he had left her, in the center of the path. Have you ever seen a clean, upstanding flower suddenly beaten down by asquall of rain? Her vodily attitude resembled that; at east for a space. One hand went slowly to her eyes, then fell limply to her de. But soon she tiffened, and there were volcanic flashes it eyes. A Hallowell vanished be trees she turned. Near by she saw a marine, and he wa hind the clove eying her curiously. Evidently he had witnessed the scene. She ap proached him. What followed the marine himself recounted at mess that night | was amblin’ along at a safe distance My order were t’ keep ol’ Pop Hallowell under eye slong as he was in the Garden Hen nessy picks him up outside an’ follows him until he git ale on the trolley. Well, he was goin along, when down the path come a lady. She walked as if she didn’t know where she was goin either, An’ out steps Pop in front o’ her, like he was a gay bird wit! the ladies. The dame gives hit the haughty. But he comes bach Her mouth opens a little, but she don't make no move I iva hear nothin’, but P p Wa down some law or other, which he inds up with a bang on his p an’ marches off, with the starin’ after him like I'd stare if ] aw a fil n’ tish come int mess port an’ ask for whitebait | hi o’ thought I'd move on, wher e | ™ me an’ come over ’ “*Who was that officer he ash me. Bo, believe me, she had all the litt Marys an’ Paulas in the m ‘ iid awa ~ with the long cruise eyy Gee! Y i “ gimme the ha-ha, but I or needed a look to tell that she wa traignt “*Well,’ I says; ‘that was Captain Hallowell, m ‘Captain Hallowell,’ she repeats after me. ‘Where doe he live?’ “*He has a villa out in San Miguel, on the Pasig,’ I say ‘He an’ Paymaster Mathison live there together Continued on Page 94)

Page 10

l HAD beer { rowa pu uring it on eve } , ‘ ' ent ! ire I eer i nd bh ‘ the } | | tmet ethan twe i 1. Mrs. i L dt bile } t ex { ‘ lit out he i ind nad tu j he last | ! beat nd tiv hil hoe bu ‘ Ana thet eer ! ‘ t he | 1} ive games of ehild ad, suet the handkerchief nd King W King Jann " nd prisoner's base ind the reat of them I'he novelt of he notion had heer amain contributor factor tort were and go somewhere lo thought ot parties for grown-up Mr Carroway had sei ‘ e her oclal purpose to deposit a like ar picuous pot to rece um to be handed over charity in which Mr ( It was somehow felt of wartime economy) wore an expensive larger than the donat simpler things. More attached to the favor guaranteed Amer nn In the matter of refre at pai to com] rie rationing regulat than once a he move frock having the exag of frock wl h tre ¢ with a wide blue her knees, and with fh with ber hair caught wrists with a blue ittained to Mr ( yo in tort ‘If Mr. Herbert Hoo to-night I am property, the human Llerbert Hoover being t wise, but that was what Everyone came right o Now it wa of the morning after Indeed for half an hour getting thus voicing a convict de of her head and a din hostess thus attired and n red much aying it was time, real tu irty, most 1cce ful Mrs ilwa vere successes, but this one n stood out notably from a long in record. It had been a chil- THE SATURDAY EVENING POST LIFE OF TI By Irvin S. Cobb ILLUSTRATED BY JAMES M. PRESTON Ig January 25,1919 PART at the Age of Three; and, as the complimentary comment proved, his get-up had reflected credit not alone upon its wearer but upon its designer, Miss Rowena Skiff, who drew fashion pictures for one of the women’s magazines. Out of the goodness of her heart and the depths of her pro- fessional knowledge Miss Skiff had come to Mr. Leary’s aid, supervising the preparation of his wardrobe at a theat- rical costumer’s shop uptown and, on the evening be- fore, coming to his bachelor apart- ments,accompanied by her mother, per- sonally to add those small special refine- ments which meant so much, as he now realized, in attain- ing the desired re- sult. “Oh, Mr. Leary, I must tell youagain how very fetching you do look! Your costume is adorable, really it is; so—so cute and every- thing. And I don’t know what I should have done without you to help in the games and every thing. use denying it, Mr There’s no Mr. Leary’s Gait Became a Desperate Gallop, and as He Gatloped He Shouted: “Wait, Please. Here I am— Here's Your Passenger!"* be exact truthful the basic idea illed new nee long before some it the heme of giving children’s but with her customary brilliancy ed upon the issues of the day to veaving timeliness and patriotism nto the fabric of her plan by making it a war party as vell Each individual attending wa under pledge to keep i full and accurate ta of the moneys expended upon his or her costume and upon arrival at the place of festivities in a repository put in a con ‘ hese contributions, the entire later to the guardians of a military irroway was active fostered a worthy spirit e the donation of a person who ime would be relatively so much nm of one who went in for the that th books of Thrift Stamps were the ime being children’s toys of i ilacture hmer Mrs. Carroway had been crupulously with the existing As the hostess herself said more d to and fro in a flounced white erated low waistline of the sort a tot of tender age, iped about her almost down at kirts quite up to her knees, na coquettish blue bow on the nutive fan tied fast to one of her » many of the ladies who had i\ f ly well-ripened years did le girly effects gi th itt as the oving hither and yon remarked, himself were here as one of my too perfectly sure he could find oever to object to!” stretching of that elastic to conceive of Mr. ere, whether in costume or other Imagination, Mrs. Carroway said and repeated, it and agreed with her along toward three thirty o'clock ind the party was breaking up past, this person or that had been to be thinking about going ion that had formed at a much earlier hour in the minds of the tenants of the floor below Mrs. Carroway's studio apartment, which like all properly devised studio apartments was at the top of the building. It was all very well to be a true Bohemian, ready to give and take, and if one lived down round Washington Square one naturally made allowances for one’s neighbors and all that, but half past three o’clock in the morning was half past three o'clock in the morning, and there was no getting round that, say what you would. And besides, there were some people who needed a little sleep once in a while even if there were some other people who seemed to be able to go without any sleep; and finally, though patience was a virtue, enough of a good thing was enough and too much was surplusage. Such was the opinion of the tenants one flight down. So the party was practically over. Mr. Algernon Leary, of the firm of Leary & Slack, counselors and attor- neys at law, with offices at Number Thirty-two Broad Street, was among the very last to depart. Never had Mr. Leary spent a more pleasant evening. He had been in rare form, a variety of causes contributing to this happy state. To begin with, he had danced nearly every dance with Miss Milly Hollister, for whom he entertained the feelings which a gentleman of ripened judgment, and one. who was rising rapidly in his profession, might prop- erly entertain for an entirely charming young woman of reputed means and undoubted social position. A preposterous ass named Perkins—at least, Mr. Leary mentally indexed Perkins as a preposterous ass—had brought Miss Hollister to the party, but thereafter in the scheme of things Perkins did not count. He was a cipher. You could back him up against a wall and take a rubber- tipped pencil and rub him right out, as it were; and with regards to Miss Hollister that, figuratively, was what Mr. Leary had done to Mr. Perkins. Now on the other hand Voris might have amounted to something as a potential rival, but Voris being newly appointed as a police magis- trate was prevented by press of official duties from coming to the party; so Mr. Leary had a clear field, as the saying goes, and made the most of it, as the other saying goes. Moreover, Mr. Leary had been the recipient of un- limited praise upon the ingenuity and the uniqueness expressed in his costume. He had not represented a Little Lord Fauntleroy or a Buster Brown or a Boy Scout or a Juvenile Cadet or a Midshipmite or an Oliver Twist. There had been three Boy Scouts present and four Buster Browns and of sailor-suited persons there had been no end, really. But Mr. Leary had chosen to appear as Himself Leary — you were the life of the party, absolutely !”’ At least twice during the night Mrs. Carroway had told Mr. Leary this, and now as he bade her farewell she was saying it once more in practically the same words, when Mrs. Carroway’s colored maid, Blanche, touched him on the arm. “’*Scuse me, suh,” apologized Blanche, “but the hall man downstairs he send up word jes’ now by the elevator man ‘at you'd best be comin’ right on down now, suh, effen you expects to git a taxicab. He say to tell you they ain’t but one taxicab left an’ the driver of ’at one’s been waitin’ fur hours an’ he act like he might go way any minute now. ’At’s whut the hall man send word, suh.” Blanche had brought his overcoat along and held it up for him, imparting to the service that small suggestion of a ceremonial rite which the members of her race invariably do display when handling a garment of richness of texture and indubitable cost. Mr. Leary let her help him into the coat and slipped largess into her hand, and as he stepped aboard the waiting elevator for the downward flight Mrs. Carroway’s voice came fluting to him, once again repeating the flattering phrase: ‘“‘You surely were the life of the party!” It was fine to have been the life of the party. It was not quite so fine to discover that the taxicab to which he must intrust himself for the long ride up to West Eighty-fifth Street was a most shabby-appearing vehicle, the driver of which, moreover, as Mr. Leary could divine even as he crossed the sidewalk, had wiled away the tedium of waiting by indulgence in draughts of something more potent than the chill air of latish November. Mr. Leary peered doubt- fully into the illuminated countenance but dulled eyes of the driver and caught a whiff of a breath alcoholically fragrant, and he understood that the warning relayed to him by Blanche had carried a subtle double meaning. Still, there was no other taxicab to be had. The street might have been a byway in old Pompeii for all the life that moved within it. Washington Square, facing him, was as empty as a graveyard generally is at this hour, and the semblance of a conventional graveyard in wintertime was helped out by a light snow—the first of the season— sifting down in large damp flakes. Twice and thrice he repeated the address, speaking each time sharply and distinctly, before the meaning seemed to filter into the befogged intellect of the inebriate. On the third rendition the latter roused from where he was slumped down. “T garcia, Steve,” he said thickly. “I garcia firs’ time, only y’ hollowed s’loud I couldn’ und’stancher.”

Page 11

— So urched it fumble intemperance among Mr boarded overcoat down in al harsh gra [ started north. Wobbling aying ne i d for the wheel Sil the the Leary though he w cab and drew effort al THE SATURDAY EVENING POST a semiupright posture and ly condemning the curse of working classes of a great city the skirts of o cover his knee With a d an abrupt jerk the taxi upon his peren the ariver illy steered a reasonably straight course -leaning back in the depths of the cab confessed f he was a trifle weary and more than a trifle At thirty-seven one does not dance and play game alternate for six he rs on a stretch without paying for the exertion in a sensation of let downness H head slipped forward on his chest With a drow sy uncertainty as to whether he had been dozing for hours or only for a very few minutes Mr Leary opened his eyes and sat up. The car was Ited slant wise against a curbing; the chauffeur was jammed down again into a heay Mr. Lear tepped nimbly forth upon the pavement, feeling in | overcoat pocket for the fare; and then he realized was not in West Eighty-fifth Street at " he was not in ar treet that he remembered ever having en before n the course of his life. Offhand though, he guessed he was somewhere in that mystic maz of brick and mortar known as Old ‘eenwich Village; and for a further guess, in that particular part of it wher business during these last few years had been steadily encroaching upon the ancient residences of long departed ckerbocker familie ne could I ike oO quat structure iggy é nterrupted the treet wa ed h tall | all dark and huttered Looking the other i) wi nw ld be ¢ j he could make out ere these wholesale « il ! ments tailed off, to be suc- ceeded by the lower shape of venerable awellings idorned with the dor Vv i ‘} which distinguished a D) gone architectural period Some distance off in t latter direction the 1 between the bulldll Va cut across by the straddle bug structure of one ol tne iInaquick glance about hin and then he turned on the culprit cabma h rage in his heart Set here out” he napped crossly, jerking th other by the houlder “What do you mean by away off here bring rhis isn’t ing me where I wat to go Under his ing the drivers Oh, wake up, you vigorous shak- ide- d over ways until he threatened to decant himself out upotr Mr. Leary. His « off exposed the blank of j being has gone dead t » the ap taling lace one who for the time world and to all its carking and the he offered mishandling sw oniy\ re- for his cares, ponse andsinceresnore. Thema was hopel 3s intoxicated; there was no question about t. More to relieve ! own deep chagrin than for any ogical reason Mr. Leary nook him agall net results were a protesting and a t of emiconscious grunt lurther careening Sia! the sleeper’s form Well, there was nothing else to do but walk He must make his way afoot until he Cc to Sixth Avenue or on to Fifth, upon the chance of finding in I oughfares a ranging hawk cab. As tw t} these wo thor- one ol night- a last resort igh for a wonder in this part At its western foot the drifting flakes where a 1 North River freight dock mmediate vicinity th course of jobbing hou Mt the Subway or the L nort}! ne could take though, Mr. Leary considered with feelings akin to act repugnance. He dreaded the prospect of ribald and ¢ le- risive comments from chance fellow travelers upon a public + +h transportation line. For you should know tha oug! Mr. Leary’s outer garbing was in the main conventional there were strikingly incongruous features of it too From his neck to his knees he correctly presented the aspect of a gentleman returning late from social diversior caparisoned in a handsome fur-faced, fur-lined top coat But his knees were entirely bare; so, too, were | leg down to about midway of the calve where there ensued as it were, a pair of white silk so encircled by pir garters with large and ornate pink ribbon bows upon them His feet were bestowed in low slippers with narrow bu toned straps crossing the insteps. It was Miss Skiff, wit! her instinct for the verities, who had insist for the garters and straps for the slip] she had called finishing touche due to that young lady’s painstaking de ateness and completeness of detail that Mr moment wore upon his head a very wide-brimm« very floppy traw hat with two quaint pink-ribb streamers floating jaunt down between his shoulder the back For reasor whic! I ‘ ! irlorial ae ript Mr. Leary hugged closely left behind } ver asieep upon it, should be obviot ibutting house fronts when rooned taxi with its comatose dr like o ione castaway upon a small island in a sea of emptine his face eastward. annoyance he barely felt the chill and set striking upon his ¢ or took note of the big snowfl posed nether limbs melting damply upon his thinly protected ankles befell too, almost immediately, which upset till more. something Such was the warmth of hi Then, He came to where a wooden marquee, projecting e! the entrance to a shipping room, made a blac trip a the feebly lighted pavement. As he entered the patch of darkness the shape of a man materialized out of the and barred his way, and in that same fraction of a seco something shiny and hard was thrust against Mr. Lea daunted bosom, and in a low forceful rumble a_ voice commanded him as follow ip your mitt and Keep ‘em up!” Matching the action of his hands everything in Mr Leary seemed to rt skyward simultaneously. His hair on t alp straightened, his breath came up from |} ings in a gasp, | heart lodged in |} throat, and |} blood quit iving them practically dey | | irculatior i nd drummed in | tempht H had a horri feeling in his diaphrag? to i though the orgar customari obse ible there had iught the contagion ol the « ample and gone nortl That nice pake the fearsome inge Nov iy jest the wa uu are and d ma no peep or | have t plug uu wit ti here it His right hand maintained the sinister pressure of the weapon agall the victim's deflated chest, while his lef dexterou explored the side pockets of Mr. Lear overcoat Then the ime left hand jerked the frogged lastening of the garment asund and went pawing Ith over Mr. Lear ( pockets whict yuld ha garment pear | wearing number of pocket along a smooth “Wot t’el wilderment our kittle hid ‘lm—I'm quavered Mr and unbroket ‘Sa 1? Wot t ‘That's Nice,’’ Spake the Fearsome Stranger. Peep or I'tt Have to Plug You Wit’ This Here Gat" ‘Now Stay Jest the Way Yeu are and Don't Make No frontal surface ittered the Tlootpad be uu got our leather and k! ite! ra purse to pyrit these he £ ippen to be wearing are mace WITTL place in them i¢ 1 Vatch or anything And you've already ixen what money | had —it was all in my over it pocket.” Yep a pinch of chicken feed and wot felt like four one-bone bil highy ivman’ accent wa bot! omu ’ and «e« temptuou i N« he meana ! oundd i me kinder funny 1 out no} rete mu”? | gotta yhit ‘ i t i mst The ” ! I'd rather 1 did do that,’ protested Mr l i I wil t vise If if you'd on em ir addre I uld send i trie I t T the mort y to pa i for our trouble (ut ou fe Kidd rauder Hi ne chanyed ight for the bett sa near as | kin ts t Tee dat aint nou ou re sporti I'll jest take dat along wit me Letcher arms dowr ea ‘ traight out from re le ‘ ‘ I git t offen ou And no fun b ness!" (i piease, please nt take m ve it in’ plored Mr. Leary, plunged by these word ’ l deeper pani “Anythn but that! |] uu reall mustnt leave ne without n over it “Wot else ae ) take?”’ Even as he uttered the scornful question the thie had rested the garmer from Mr. Le elple form and is backing awa into the darkne Out if per ra gioom came ni fare r warning: “‘Stay right where you are for fi minute wit it mo I roma n t elp If ou wiggie be | tf fore de time is up I go pal right yere watchin’ you, a

Page 12

ind he'll sure ig you. He ain’t no easy-goin’ guy like t Iam. You're tin’ off lucky it’s me stuck you up, tidder him.” With these words he was gone--gone th Mr. Leary’ overcoat Mr. Lear ‘ t, with | latchkey, ith ni card ‘ t! i r h Mr. La iry might hope to lentil himself before a i and incredulou . { for at he He yone eaving there in the protectir edye of shadow the st hatte ocked-ane ppered, ley-gartered figure of a] mp being, clad other vise if i ngle estme! h began at the line of a be ming I kband and terminated in blousy out ilging bifurca ' above the naked knee Light tealing into th ed and sheltered spot would have revealed that th garment was, as to texture, a heavy, ‘ hes ! te i ind as to color a vivid and mpelling p he exact color of a e of well-ripened ermelor that leeves ended elbow-high in ar fleet of broad turned-back cuffs; finally, that adown its ner’s back it and adequately secured by meat f a close-set succession of very large, very shiny hite pea ittor the whole constituting an enlarged | exceedit ceurate copy of what, descriptively, is n to the manufactured-garment trade as a one-piece of child's romy elf-trimmed, fastens behind; suit ible for nurse pia nd and eashore, eape | ended is summer wear for the little one t be had in all size Within a space of some six or lamp did reveal unto itself a downward lanting beams fell upon a furtive, fugitive shape ugyvestive in that deficient ibradiance of a vastly overgrown forked parsnip, mira ulously endowed w h power { locomotion and bound for ore where in a hurr excepting ol course no forked parsnip, however remarkable in other respects, would be wearing a floppy straw hat in a snowstorm nor is it suld be adorned lengt! i highly de Wie nil rear with orative design of broad, even in that polished di } vhict poor illumination, gleamed and twinkled and wiggled snakily in and out of alignment, in accord ith th movement of their wearer! pinal colur jut the reader and I, better in formed than ar lamp-post could be as to the prior sequence of at a glance put suddenly event would know it was no par Mr ve loped through no fault of his nip we beheld, Algernon Leary, now own one of the most overpower- ing predicaments conceivable to ing lawyer and a mem and to watch involve ari ber of at least two good clubs; but him, knowing, as we had we been there would know, the developments le ding up to this situation, we might the truth: t bent upon present have guessed what was That Mr. Leary was h retreating to the only imaginable refuge left to him; to wit, the inte tranded taxicab which but a short rior of the he had time previousl) Nearly all of us at lives have abandoned yme time or other in our dreamed awful dreams of being discovered in ‘a public place with nothing at all upon our bodies, and have awakened, burning hot with the shame of an enormous and terrific embarrassment. Being no student of the psychic phenomena of human slumber I do not know whether this is a subconscious harking-back to the days of our infancy or whether it is merely a manifestation to inad- of partaking of Welsh rabbits and lobster salads prove the visability lmme- diately before retiring. More than once Mr. Leary had bedreamed thus, but at this moment he real ized how much more dread and distressing may be a dire actuality One surprised by strangers in a nude or partially nude have any one of a dozen acceptable excuses for o circumstanced, An earthquake may have caught mi } a peng § \ iy tr a inawares, say; have bl ywwn open, 1e untoward appearance of the victim has passed For him pity is promptly he is sure of sympathy. engendered and volunteer aid is enlisted. in tion there humiliating to a sehsitive nature ) glaringly would be regarded differently; would be for him only the derision which is so He felt so undignified, well, so scandalously im- But Mr. Leary had a profound conviction that, revealed thi ghostly plight before the eyes of his fellows, his case that conspicuous, 80 THE SATURDAY EVENING POST or inopportunely a bathroom door Once the first shock occasioned instead of commisera- then he might mature. If only it had been an orthodox costume party which Mrs. Carroway had given—why, have gone as a Roman senator or as a pirate chief or an Indian brave war bonnet, in a toga, even, he or a cavalier In doublet or jack boots or might have mastered the dilemma and carried off a dubious situation. adrift in an alien quarter of a great and heartless city round four o’clock in the morning, so picturesquely and But to be 0 unseasonably garbed, and in imminent peril of detec- delirium of a nightmare made real ] tion, was a prospect calculated to fill one with the frenzied January 25,1919 His slippered feet spurned the thin snow as he moved rapidly back toward the west. Ahead of him he could detect the clumped outlines of the taxicab, and at the sight of it he quickened to a trot. Once safely within it he could take stock of things; could map out a campaign of future action; could think up ways and means of extricating himself from his present lamentable case with the least possible risk of undesirable publicity. At any rate he would be shielded for the moment from the life which might at any moment awaken in the still sleeping and apparently vacant neighborhood. Finally, of course, there was the hope that the drunken cabman might be roused, and once roused might be capable, under promise of large financial reward, of conveying Mr. Leary to his bachelor apartments in West Eighty-fifth Street before dawn came, with its early-bird milkmen and its before-day newspaper distributors and its others too numerous to mention. Without warning of any sort the cab started off, seem- ingly of its volition. Mr. Leary’s gait desperate gallop, and as he galloped he entreaty. “*Hey there!”’ he am—here’s your passenger!”’ His straw hat blew off, but this was no time to stop for a straw hat. For a few rods he gained upon the vehicle, then as its became a voice in own gave shouted. ‘ Wait, Here | please. increased he lost ground and ran a losing race. Its actions disclosed that a con- scious if an uncertain hand guided its destinies. Wabbling this way and that it wheeled skiddingly round a corner. When Mr. Leary, roweled on to yet greater speed by the spurs of a mounting misery, likewise turned the corner it was irrevocably beyond all prospect of being overtaken by anything human pursuing it afoot The swaying black bulk of it di- minished was swallowed up in the snow shower and the dark- The rattle of mishandled gears died toa thin metallic clank- ing, then toa purring whisper, and then the whisper expired, dead silence ensuing. In the void of this silence stood Mr. Leary, shivering now in the reaction that had succeeded the nerve jar of being robbed at a pistol’s point, and lacking the fer- vor of the chase to sustain him. For him the inconceivable disaster was complete and utter; upon him despair descended as a patent swatter upon a lone housefly Miles away from home, penniless and friendless—the two terms being practically synonymous in New Y ork—what asylum was there for him now? Suppose daylight found him abroad thus? Suppose he succumbed to exposure and was discovered stiffly frozen in a doorway? Death by processes of congealment must carry an added sting if one had to die in a suit of pink rompers buttoning down the back. As though the thought of freezing had been a cue to Nature he noted a tickling in his nose and a chokiness in his throat, and some- where in his system, a long way off, so to speak, he felt a sneeze form- ing and approaching the surface To add to his state of misery, if anything could add to its distress- ing total, he was taking cold When Mr. Leary took cold he took it thoroughly and throughout his system. Very soon, as he knew by past experience, his voice would be hoarse and wheezy and his nose and his eyes would run. But the sneeze was delayed in transit, and Mr. Leary took advantage of the respite to cast a glance about him. Perhaps—the expedient had surged suddenly into his brain— perhaps there might be a hotel or a lodg- ing house of sorts hereabouts? If so, such an establishment would have a night clerk on duty, and despite the baggageless and cash- lessstateof thesuppliant it was pos- motion remote, and ness. than a vision conjured up out of the mysteries of slee p “Are You Payin’ an Blection Bet Three Weeks After the Election's Over? You're Jest a Piain Bedaddied Ijiet?"’ Or is it That sible the night clerk might be won, by compassion or by argument or Continued on Page 84 = = ‘

Page 13

=

THE SATURDAY EVENING POST

URING our Civil War a stout, swarthy, heavily whiskered German Jew was living in London, with wife and four children, in very straitened circum- and industr ly working on a bulky book. For ve 1 before the Civil War his only steady and dependable income consisted of five dollars a week, which New York Tribune for writing a everal columns in length. But after Editor Horace Greeley had neither ou

ne received tron tne weekly letter, often the Civil War broke out pace nor money tor a weekly London letter and the cor- respondent was cken off the pay roll. The correspondent’s name was Karl Marx, the founder of Socialism, and the book was Das Kapital or Capital, in English — whicl to Socialists about what the Koran is to Mohammedatr The first volume was published, with but ght notice from the public, fifty years ago. At present its followers are in possession of such government as there is in the greater part of Russia, and in Germany, Austria and other regions of Europe. One must go back to the cut such a figure Variou Koran for an instance of in practical po By education Marx would be what ow le He nd had no personal experience of manual cended, in fac Se froma long line of Jew- The family 1 was Mordechai until grandfather changed it to Marx. His father--a prudent and thrifty man of decidedly conservative views in politics, a book that ha and fa parlor Socialist, ce ent, early environment rmed was not a proletariat labor. He was de ish ime nis rabbis staunchly upholding the Prussian monarechy— renounced Judaism, embraced Christianity, and was a successful law- yer. It was a prosperous middle-class or bourgeois family. Among the father’s neighbors and bosom friends was Baron von We halen. The baron’s children and Lawyer t Marx’s children played together. After being playmates in infaney, Karl Marx and von Westphalen became lovers in youth, we Karl was twenty-five, and mode! of family devotion until she died, xty, to be followed by husband Jenny dded wher pre sented a vers her when upward o nearly two year ater Bourgeois and Proletariat JOUNG MARX went to a good school, then to Bonn y University and to the University of Berlin, where he got much more deeply immersed in Hegelian philosophy than in which his father wanted him to pursue, By the time he took his degree he had given such evidence of radical leanings that an academic career, under the rig- Prussian Government, was out of the question. As his father had died, leaving him mostly on his own resources, he turned to journalism-—radical jour- course. Presently he was appointed editor of a the study of law orous hand of nalism, of publication from which great things were expected. The Prussian censor, however, viewed it much less hopefully; in fact, he suppressed it, even though the dismayed stock- holders discharged their unmanageable young editor in an effort to avoid complete shipwreck. In those unpromising circumstances Marx wedded the baron’s daughter and moved to Pari There he naturally devoted himself to forming radical The poet Heine was one of his friends. Others were Bakunin and Proudhon, expounders of anarchistic doctrine. In Paris also he met Friedrich Engels, whose father was prosperously settled in England as part owner of a flourishing cotton mill near Manchester. Young connections

Engels, second only to Marx in the founding of Socialism, also came of a prosperous bourgeois family. Marx soon became editor of a radical magazine, which was printed in Paris in the German tongue for such Ger- man circulation as it might be able to find. Louis Philippe, the Citizen King, was then head of the French Govern ment, At the request of the Prussian Government he not only suppressed the magazine but expelled the entire staff from France. Marx and his family removed to Belgium assisted by a contribution from radical friends who were somewhat better circumstanced. They remained three years in Belgium; and toward the end of that period Marx and Engels composed the Communist Manifesto, which they got printed in a small shop in London in February, 1848, and which all orthodox Socialists place beside the American Declaration of Independence— or probably con siderably above it. There had been Socialism or communism of a sort long before that, enjoying a certain vogue that might be com pared to the vogue of cubist painting in our day. It is now commonly referred to as Utopian Socialism, being at amiable poetic dream of human brotherhood, owning and working in common, with all the rude grabbing for protit and other selfish advantages left out. Along about this time Utopian Socialism inspired many small communistic undertakings, the most famous of which was in America, at Brook Farm, about ten miles out of Boston. George Ripley, a literary critic, started it with about twenty followers. Nathaniel Hawthorne lived there for a short time and wrote a novel about it. Among those who took a sympathetic interest in the venture and con tributed to its magazine were Horace Greeley, Charles A. Dana—afterward famous as editor of the New York Sur Lowell, Whittier and George W. Curtis. Emerson was sympathetic to a degree— which, however, did not prevent him from laughing at it. The community was founded in 1841 and petered out six years later. The ideal state of society this Socialism preached was to come abcut of itself because it was good and right. Marx and Engels, in their Communist Manifesto, pro- posed something very different from that. The Manifesto says that all history since tribal days discloses society divided by economic conditions into classes with hostile ezonomic interests—broadly into a dominant exploiting class and a helpless exploited class, seen at its simplest in the chattel slavery of ancient times and of the Southern States of the American Republic; seen also in feudal times, with its small class of noble landowners mass of serfs at the bottom. At length, says the Manifesto, the bourgeoisie— that is, the property-owning middle class— wrested power from the nobility, while the proletariat or laboring class took the place of the serfs and slaves. But the division of society into classes with hostile economic interests is worse now than it was before. ‘‘Our epoch—the epoch of the bour- geoisie—possesses, however, this distinctive feature: it has simplified the class antagonisms. Society, as a whole, is more and more splitting up into two great hostile camps, into two classes directly facing each other—the bour- geoisie and the proletariat.” It would be much simpler for American purposes to say middle class or property owners instead of saying bour- geoisie, and to say wage-earners instead of saying pro- letariat. But great by the terms bourgeoisie and proletariat. You will probably notice that

at the top ar d its Socialists set store G 11 > KORAN DECORATION Br VERNSEY MOORE

if you get a Socialist talking about middk iss and wage earners he begins to miss fire only sparking up prope when he gets back to his own terminology. If we keep in mind that bourgeoisie means middle cla or property owners, and proletariat means wage-earners, the no harm in bowing to their verbal preference It should also be kept in mind that where Socialism | gained ascendancy, as in Russia, it adopts a very broat detinition of bourgeoisie Under that detir mn a grea many of the farmers in the United ite r » mention all merchants, would be classed as bourgs e and excluded from any share in the government lor the Commu Manifesto proposes, as the only remedy tor the tute { things it picture that the proletariat or wage-earnjng class must become conscious of it onditior ryanize and overthrow the bourgeoisie or propert Wine Havir gained political ascendancy peaceab or otherw “the proletariat will use its po i iprema ) ‘ by degrees all Capital [rom the bourgeoisie, and to ce ze all instruments of production in the hands of the state that ol the proletariat orgat ed a he Cla Not mers yovernment or pul of production, you will observe, bul owne hig t " ite hat is ruled by the working cla That p Nothing else than a state ruled by he ‘ ! i Marxian Socialism His proletariat meat he wuaye earners All instruments of production”’ means a ke mill as much as a railroad Che distinguishing feature of communism,” says the Manifesto he abolitic f bourgeo property Marx is Kept Moving E SHALL see later why bourgeois property mu The Engels proposed in their Manifesto was something very abolished, point now that wi itherhood that i different from the idyllic picture of bre tolore gone by the name of Socialism there the division of society into two implacably host and urged a revolutionary class war by the proleta on property owner lor the pur] disposse sing the latter The revolution, they ed, must be of the proletariat, to w h, as it hap pened, neither of the archrevolutionists belonged About the time the Manifesto appeared, King I Philippe and his minister, Guizot, who } from France, were themselves expel or wage-earners the work ad expelled M ed and a rey Marx therefore returned to Par I claimed. time of great radical stir throughout Ku Chartist movement revived in England and r i , uprisings in Vienna and Berlin. Marx wer er to Pr sia and started a journal to help the revolution along. Bu it was short-lived. Reaction and ba down. Marx's paper was suppressed and he wa His family then consisted of himself, wife and three sma children. To cover the expense of a removal to Paris Mr Marx pawned some family silver and sold all the furniture And the family had been settled in Paris but a f« on when a sergeant of police appeared with a notice ea within twenty-four hours. It was then that Marx went to London. The sale of a small piece of property, inherited from his father, in funds for a time. But the fourth child was then born, (Continued on Page 114

Page 14

THE SATURDAY EVENING POST The Anglo-American Business January 25,1919 lemtemte—By Isaac F. Marcosson n 1 i er t¢ f I I neadq G j ! , led led ye i I ne thee f Sir | ( ‘ which | i t Ja ' Ref t of er the Teu j ‘ ny ‘i t} j , ‘ ‘ tchma / and r the e } typewritter heet ‘ pressed a button, and ' " rd to the remotest end The directed ships in Australian mutton and metal instead of trooy d vesse at East Indian docks to take 1 rubber in place of les the com orts tied up at Canadian wharves to ws of wheat for fresh drafts of men tten sheet wa ke the famous mobili hich Von Moltke kept in } desk and the alarm of war » be vivified into to a might nost It was the “‘turr h tonnage allocation from war to } nontl t 1 reposed quietl in iv t. Jarne Park awaiting the great ild be the first ca to the new order he “peration f the Ministry of nstituted the imperial reply to the que ' liow ! we face restora r rembled on the lips of the natior i It meant that with tonnage, master ea ell as in war, England was ready I i get a hint of Britis! t he olo i that w test the ition during the next twelve mont! b exception of Germany, who began n plat n the day she invaded Belgium, hat has borne the ordeal of fire is so well the equally trying and mvure permanent wer is Great Britain It is with her, and ve must re ! the bloodless struggle for le prema other phase of European economic reconstruc- e so vitally concerned as with the British lv due to the kinship of a common race heri- radeship of the battl ne where the Anglo ovgether We also fought in France ur dead sleep beneath her war-gashed s ymparable with the bond with Britain, the ifety and the tegrity of the whole vard each other They will control the bul the ill dominate cargo carrying. They as! ted competition but it must be i duel ind ! ip i! hyo ‘ nr nd ne iwt ‘ ex wrtu its Since n revi mes Dr. Christepher Addison Sir Vincent Caillard, Head of the Federation of British Industries I ranged the warring and More especially in the belligerent countrie twice within the twelvemonth I began, almost from the start, to look for some realiza immense responsibilities that would come w 1s impossible to le business, for the reason that individuals and not nations carry on commerce; that it is not economic destruction that will sterili an economic security against his aggression reared in the shape of a huge output. I commercial antidote against Germany was to make it nowhere else has it reached suc he midst of a war that sapped her vitality s ahead to readjustment and recuperation. een an evolution. earlier days of the conflict the average Englishman re- garded peace merely as a return to the comfortable pre- le friction as possib! renewal of old habits, traditions, prejudices and contro- amiable ambition was full brother to the con- il and abiding association with viction that the war was “‘a sporting proposition and would be over by Christmas.” of German militarism as revealed on the field of battle, coupled with the depth of German economic penetration as disclosed by the almost pathetic dependence of British industry on certain essential German products a dependence that handicapped munitions making epend upon the way England and this complacent state of mind. Britain woke up to the fact that to beat the German in war she must be eco- nomically free. She turned to the task with a mighty energy. Like all big ideas reconstruction was harried and abused. The after-the-war vision became a sort of fetish that attracted both the demagogue and the dreamer. Back in the first year of the war when the Reconstruction Committee of the cabinet was the lone outpost of restoration the maelstrom of discussion started to swirl Everybody had a theory. I listened to floods of impassioned oratory about German trade menace; I saw the black flag of economic boycott against the enemy powers reared over the Paris eco- nomic conference; I followed the lurid threats of trade reprisal that ran like a prairie fire through the columns of the sensational British press. The Commercial Antidote UCH of this verbal conflagration, which was as un- sound and impractical as it was violent, subsided But it showed one thing, and it did another. The first was the fact that England was awake to her post-war obligations; the second was the organization of the Ministry of Reconstruction, established by Act of Parliament in 1917 with the Right Honorable Christo- pher Addison, M.D., as minister, which had made sufficient progress to enable me to publish in THE SATURDAY EVENING PosT a year ago the whole tenta tive scheme of demobilization of men and industry That scheme demobilized the army by trades and not by units, the essential industries having first call; it set up employment bureaus in the various labor ex changes throughout the country; established a clearing house of machinery and a card index of in dustrial needs both human and material. This scheme is now in full operation Jack of it was something bigger, which bore directly on the present crowded hour, when the economic wounds of the world are being bound up. It was the intelligent under- standing by England that organized industrial preparation more effective than reckless threat of boycott; that it slate a people like the Germans out of ze the trade world against the Teuton but | hat the best ingland decided t difficult and costly for her to do business in the future; to wipe out her monopoly of the key industries and to make future penetration impossible. Her reconstruction pro- gram is the common-sense dramatization of all this and considerably more. Just as she reduced war to a business; rehearsed offen- sives like the acts of a stupendous play; charted and diagramed the process of army supply and transport, so has she put down on paper the whole strategy of restora- It was a going concern before the Te Deum for victory sounded in St. Paul’s. What is the result? To-day, while the rest of the world that went to war is furrowing the fields in which to plant the seeds of renewal, Eng- land is almost ready © garner a crop. Preparedness t always pays. Though prophecy is as dangerous a dissipation in peace as in war, no man who has_ touched British reconstruc- tion can have any other conviction than that the Em- pire, and more par- ticularly England, will recover quickly and with an abun- ~ Mr. Andrew Weir dant prosperity,

Page 15

the burden of debt, labor « omplicat ions peti came after the lk United States emerged reborn from the crucible of civil trife in the sixtic Prussia and France became world power with the a . heathing of the vord in 1871 Ja Long before Hindenburg and > Ludendorff passed into the twilight of the German gods the reb pe had be i! are two phase tish reconstruc ‘ the va / paper program it / volving the demo Dilization ol arn and war industr with all their allied upkeep and re ne wal, hich Wa translated into a t lality ( Monday, a cident Maclay’s off the other the ir ei sir Josep} e showed; the i deve lopment reorgal tion an of production under the turned to peace W I powe on It expre ed peeded-up output, a trained, d plined and sophisticated people w KI hemselves and General J. C. Smuts the iobs better than ever be- in the determination to expand and con- | with every safeguard, With peace of industrial inde- led the banner of s« lf-sufficiency What is she doing? e mper4rial re yurces neluding a tariff, that can be set up 1a deciaration from the masthe id of empire. What doe he propose to do? When the Great News Came YEFORE we can analyze this huge scheme of B restoration we must first see what those four vears of strife taught England. No one need be told at this late date that war is the supreme re- isclosure was pleasant, but most of it has proved profitable. It is one of the Under the lash of neces- h in the great struggle was nothing more rvation—England found out German to thrive like n her midst, sap the lifeblood of vital pro of the war. permitted the industrie ind make himself practically indispen- ible to the productive well-being of the nation She ewise discovered—as the myriad rejections for arr ervice showed—that her population was bad nourished, and housed still worse. A third = disclosure was that her industry was disorganized ind was an easy irget for attack. On the other hand she learned before a year of war had registered its bloody progress that she could in time becor self-sufficient; that the ill-nourished cockney ild be developed into a “first-class fighting man”’; that her women were a great asset in toil; and that her industry not or could be coérdinated but could fill up the gaps made by the loss of those German essentials to manufac- ture It kno dge England has found power. It has been the lever by which she has lifted herself to the heights of a new rld economic authority. A land of detached factor na become a continuous wv rkshop athrob wit! the hum of mighty workings.”"" The wise a profit | heir England has been wise. I n land turned from war to peace with an ease that ipset all theort Let me illustrate with a personal expe- ence All through my incessant war wanderings I had yndered where I should be when the end came. I fancied ! elf at the Front here a sudden lull would succeed the deadly din of death; again I had a mental picture of some Allied capit vhere the long night of suspense would merge into the daybreak of wild rejoicing. Neither of these happened. On the rning of November eleventh I was in Boulogne— how easy it is to emerge from the obscurity of Somewhe n France and deal in real identities again having come by the night train from Paris. Three days before I had stood on the shores of Lake Constance in Switze {1 and looked down on Germany and Austria with the home of the Zeppelins straight ahead of me. Now, what will always be one of the “mornings of the world,” French city that four years of war had almost ly Anglicized It had been one of the chief ports taxation and the inevitable In this case history will be repeating itself. War means revelation, and revelation in turn inva- i expansion. Great Britain’s real development ng-drawn struggle with Napoleon; the that had kept up their eternal THE SATURDAY EVENING POST of arrival for British troops and the of the sick and wounded. Year after nervous with energy, shaken by the continuous procession of khaki that represented the point of embarkation I had seen weight ol yeal guns—a two extremes of war But on this November the great event that impended, it had a new atmosphere morning, as if in anti ipation of Transports swung lazily in the harbor, the destroyer vigil nosed alor gy, the \ juay that had resounded with the tramp of millior was almost deserted. Peace, like those familiar \ coming events, seemed to have cast its bene . diction before. At ten o'clock I boarded the . British Military Leave Boat that crossed twice daily to Folkestone It was packed with officers and enlisted men going home ; \ on furlough. Halfway across— literally in / Mid-Channel, where the lady in the } \ famous Pinero play of that name made ‘ \ the tragic decision—a long gray patrol | boat came dashing up, aflutter with irens shrieking. She flags and with her | brought the news that the armistice wv the waters that had signed Thus, on Mr. W. M. Hughes borne the burden of so much war ag and the na joined by blood and sacrifice I heard the great natior between two great news, Now for the sion of this incident: Practically every real reason for the intru- man on that boat except a few diplomats andme had carried arms,and mo wound and service stripes straight from the Front wore come scarcely turned a hair at peace Jor was it the traditional British imperturbabili There were scores of oversea troop n the crowd, who lack the ca ualne of the Mother Country. The temporary colon ho sat deck chair at my left and who had left | mine in Wales to join up, blew a ring of sn the crisp autumn air and said: “I 0! back to the underground again.” The captain with the blue-and-white bon of the M Cross on his breast, who had done nothing mors than add up accounts in a Manchester factory belore I began to kill Germans, remarked: ‘I ler n L'll be back on my old job again’’; while the grizzled old 1 u, whose two boys lay beneath the ruir said: “ accepted the stupendous change as a matter of fact, and I've got to get an active job his first idea was to wonder what he was going to de That afternoon I entered a drenched but delirious Lon- don, where the tumult made the Mafeking revel a far-away whisper. Before night fe e a wet blanket Continued on Page 101

Page 16

I Jerry JRemem By C. E. SCOGGINS HILLER ! if JERCHANCE,” | said Pp’ The ite of { wit he Oh ind Scand ur ind a pro-Ge ‘ ring, that fa en ret Now I wa who vynen He was displease th for that, “‘May a " mur valley Farewell ghed r of dishe | had yt mat eon that boat

those dear Un nad overcome ituation called for more ime agai ind | paid nnother ' pped uninvited aboard ind for Ke West. But em, | pot fT iin that Havana was to permar nt morn vyrecked and Ane i irving ona re to ?t highly pe perchance, ahem! per- ance One day even these thing will be amusing to remember!” Cines nha tine eevery youth wi ve toward adegree, | barked m men hir m the tubborn re of that tine Forsan et hav n ‘ The value f Latina {the working equip- ment of an electrical engineer ha neve hee itisfactoril demon ated to me, but those x words iione contain a W le ystem of | losopt I'ry it Cry it on any hing, 1 the thache to being out ofa t It efu nit qui hur ng! And nee upon a time I had formed a high resolve never to forget it pearl of wisdom. In any emer- v. 1 vever dire, | would recog e the ransitory nature of my affliction ind borrow a nonchalant mile from the future You might say that such an emer yency was upon me now; | too wa hipwre¢ ked and starving, and to al intents and purposes Havana was rman di position, an he, so it ved me, and and the THE SATURDAY EVENING POST par ted He navian with an we teful morning, in reasonably neu licked Germany; but of Bel reached for a he spoke gium d. He as far as the galley was there against a nly have got my feet I leaned vas leat ing the Poor!” I apo oud ou may be sure; ubmarine ring up a forever!” hed tempera Not for my vani ot the ifestly true impracticable miles that still ited tales were to walk. My me just one day too yearn too I knew ig he ad again <i, but not for me I art of ignoring meal for it; and I had constructive activity elf hopefully there ILLUSTRATED Br LEJAREWN A a desert isle with not a sail in sight. Did I remember JEneas, and break forthwith into light-hearted song? I did not! I glowered along streets that were shamefully narrow and uncomfortably paved with cobblestones, and filled with gloom as deep as that within me. Once I leaped hastily into a doorway to let a street car squeeze past, but I did not hurry. My destination was an indef- and the of my arrival a matter of How could I know and otherwise time indifference. where, profound and melancholy inite else that my movements were being timed to the second, that I went to an appointment with Fate? with more electric signs than Broad- advertising cigarettes and cognac; and it surrounded by restaurants, all criminally open with people at my very elbow I shuddered and hurried past. There was with everybody in Havana strolling up astle winking at the foot of it. Then, halfway along, I saw an American flag draped across a window and American Club In those days a fellow never noticed the flag unless he but I'd had three years to develop a appreciation; I stood looking at the bright colors forlornly to remember that it and a hundred million other people then one of the hundred million sauntered out, his stick. Without thinking I touched his arm 7 beg your pardon,” I said, ‘‘I r He turned and looked at me; and I saw at once that he felt no rush of brotherly feeling toward me. In fact his There was a park, way, all was completely to the expensive food sidewalk, eating a long promenade, and down, and Morro C a sign: Was from home, sense of of it, trying away was a bond And just swinging between me

January 25,1919 mething look reminded me that it had been three days since had shaved; which was hardly my fault, Swede was very careful of his razor. “Well?” said he, tapping the pavement with his stick. “Listen,” I blurted out. “I’m broke, and “‘Nix, my friend,” said he. ‘‘You’re the that’s tried to touch me since dinner. Why don’t you go to work?” I had thought at most to ask him for friendly advice, after a diplomatic statement of my troubles; but my hungry nerves were not conducive to diplomacy, and I felt the color of my hair seeping rapidly into my system. ‘I’m not a hobo, cat!” I snapped. I would have said other things — oh, other things!—but he got the best of the argument by shrugging his shoulders and sauntering away. It was just as well Freedom of speech had aggravated my troubles enough already, without getting me into jail. A band was playing industriously at the end of the promenade. I sat on the broad ledge of the sea wall and tried to enjoy its efforts; but the booming of the waves on the rocks below suited my feelings better--hollow and unutterably dismal. I watched the long rollers slide in stealthily from the gulf, to explode in the darkness down there and flash up into sudden whiteness, and felt in com- plete sympathy with the fellows who wrote about the ‘‘sad because whe second "bo you house several sea waves” and the “cruel crawling foam.”’ They must have been stranded, like myself, on a hostile shore, with little prospect of falling heir to a meal of food. Have I made myself clear? I was sad. Somebody nudged my elbow, “Say!” My new pla did not glitter on the surface; he was, in fact, somewhat dilapidated, and he needed a shave worse than I did. But he was human, and he spoke English; and a hoarse voice said: ymate unquestion-

ably he was another of the hundred million. ‘Huh?”’ said and encouragingly as I could. ‘Say, old man,” he wheezed, **couldn’t slip me the price of a little supper, could you? I ain’t had nothin’ to eat since 7 I was about to agree sadly that I could not; to inform him that I too had had nothing to eat, either since or before. He would go away and leave me to my melancholy thoughts Or—the poverty of genial grafters was by no means certain he might buy me some supper Food! I almost fell off the wall with weakness at the thought of it. And then, just in time, I remem- I, as courteously these bered. The shade of old A®neas had been at my heels all the time, but now he sat down beside me and touched my other arm. “ Perchance,”’ he murmured with dignity befitting his three thousand years, “‘one day even these things will be amusing to remember.” Would it be amusing to remember that I had surrendered—to a hobo? I could think of something funnier than that. I rose. I spoke disdain- fully over my shoulder. “*Nix, my friend,’”’ I said. I re- gretted that I had no stick to tap haughtily on the pavement, but that couldn't be helped. ‘‘Nix! You're ‘bo that’s tried to touch Why don’t you go the second me since dinner. to work?” He had the cue too. “I ain’t no hobo, guv’nor,”’ he protested. ‘* Hon- est! I just I knew the answer to that; I moved gracefully away. And Fate, nodding approvingly to the shade of old A£neas, me firmly by the elbow and led me across the street took mr HE veranda of the Miramar, overlooking the long starry cres- cent of the shore drive, was lighted like a brilliant stage setting. Gym- nastic waiters were sliding skillfully

“You Know I'm Curious,"’ She Said, “I'tt Hurry. Onty I Refuse to Go Waiking Before Breakfast" in and out among the tables bearing

Page 17

THE SATURDAY EVENING POST frosty glasses of all shapes and ct is 1 * colors, he guests, unable to con- *® tf ‘ tain more food, were now absorbing \" \ Yj / expensive moisture. I entertained \' det / x a sinfully covetous thought: The 0 . ‘ Lx price of one of those drinks would ly me a meal. I paused, glaring malevolently at the nearest group; and pre sently became conscious that the malevolence had faded into a curious uncertain gladness, for I was staring straight at the girl. What girl? I couldn’t have told you. A girl with dark crisp hair inder a wide white Panama; a girl ith warm friendly eyes and a hint of freckles across the bridge f her small nose. What girl? As soon as I recovered fromthe surprise f seeing her, surely I would remem- er who she was! I could see her er) clearly, but vnen she raised her eyes it niust have been five seconds before I realized that she could see me with equal clearness. Obeying my first onfused instinct I raised my bat- tered hat, and then went cold with realization of the figure I must present. The gray eyes merely widened with an instant’s wonder, ind then dropped to tne ice sne was eating I went away. Going away was my specialty that day, but this me I did it so enthusiastically that I plowed right over a little who was standing beside me. There was a vague impression that sne nad been addressing me, but her words were lost in the confusion. I bent hastily to pick her up. In the gutter beside her a most pleasing glitter struck my eye; by no means a familiar glitter, but I recognized it from distant memory. It was money—a silver coin about he size of a quarter. I reached for t, gently, so as no o startle it induly, and effected its capture. Rich! Worse, he was perfectly calm; she wa The little girl wa unl holding out her hand for my new fortune tefore 1 could bring my mighty intellect to a focus on thi new disaster I surrendered it. The presumption was of course at it belonged to her, but my cor fused wits testified that she was nanding me a bit ol paper in returr It bore a printed number prom } } nently on its face. ‘*26,026,”’ I read tupidly. The end thought ] : ’ s~ wee a : va" * ’ . 1 = CAR an Faber wanted to buy a ottery ticket! **But listen, little one!’’ | _s ee of arrest for vagrancy we passed. The n his words thing vastly cheering, that } proprietor to serve me as one fa moaned in my most persuasive Spanish. But she had fled in search of further prey. I did not want to buy a lottery ticket. From a fairly extensive personal experience with the deceitful things | could swear that nobody ever won a nickel in a lottery. What I wanted te wealth had been the gold reserve of the United States, nstead of the probable equivalent of twenty cents, I could buy was food; and if my vanished not have felt more cheated. For the moment I had even forgotten the girl on the veranda. But a hasty look convinced me that she had forgotten my existence. Now I had been trying to escape her eye, but I felt rather hurt to think that | had succeeded with- out moving more than five feet. I stepped sulkily into the hadow of a pillar, trying to get my mind untangled about her Sool!” I told myself. ‘‘Lunatic, maniac, simple- minded from birth!’” Why had I let her see me in this diculous state? No wonder she failed to recognize me with a quarter-inch stubble of red beard on my face, and dressed like a ranking officer in Coxey’s Army! For I knew her; I knew that I knew her, but I couldn't remember who she was. Surely there was only one girl in the world with that eager little trick of speech, that familiar small gesture of the hand, that merry quick part- ing of the lips when she smiled. Yes, surely; but who? You could see that she would never be bored. Little things would delight her; she would be interested in every- thing. She looked so indescribably friendly, sitting there, that it seemed the simplest thing in the world to march up “No, Jerry,’ She Said. to her table, grinning, and say “‘ You didn’t recognize me did you? I’m Jerry Norris. Who are you?’ Oh, yes. And she would take one look at me and Police!” There was an elderly gentleman with her; and a midd aged lady. I tried briefly to recall them from the confused files of my memory, but with no better success. Present the three of them got into a hack and drove away, and | restrained a frantic impulse to spring int» another and shout ‘Driver, follow that carriage! It’s a matter of or death!” No; that would be inexact It would be simply a matter ¢ of ten days on the Cuban equivalent for chain gang There was nobody left now except about a thousand people and the band. There was a deserted stretctl | grass running back along the harbor, and | parked myself behind some shrubbery and went to sleep. 1 dreamed that j I was eating a thick juicy broiled steak, and that wher I cut off the first bite and put it into my mouth it felt like paper. It tasted like paper. It was paper. It was a | tery ticket. I wept bitte rly in my disappointment yut the girl smiled her sudden merry smile, and said iv ‘ee Sefior!’’ It didn’t sound like the girl’s voice Moreover it seemed a little curious that she should poke me in the ribs so persistently. I opened my eyes to investigate the phenomenon, and saw that it was da) light. A little gendarme in a blue linen suit, with a lantern “My Name Isn't Miller, and I Never Saw You Before!" irt of the grand prize ticket that I held , and I was already here Kee ping Jehu at m « De rmitted a barber fe pleases Your Grace I shall tell him tha hantment of wearing good clothes again the la ve hame fled; I had thought of it I lounged grandly among my packages while Jehu se 15 and a big cape, was standing over me. I yawned and borrowed a ciga- rette from him; profound dejection wrapped me about, made me utterly ndifferent to the dismal imminence He was a kindly little devil, and spoke a little English, very proudly He told me tactfully that the juez would doubtless be lenient, and we set out. Evidently he did not often capture an English-speaking prize, and did not mean to neglect hi opportunity; he chatted, trotting at my elbow, incessantly, asking me the name of this object or that as ie paused a mo ment to inspect a sheet of paper fastened on the door of a shop 26,026. , The great black figures ran al the way across the top of the sheet; 26,026. And beneath in smalle: type hundreds of other numbers in neat parallel rows. I stood staring dumbly. I had inspec ted such sheets hope fully too many times not to re¢ ognize it. 26,026! “The list,”’ said the little gen darme, turning with a philosophical smile of disappointment from ru ning his finger down the column figures; ‘the — how do yousayee of the loteria!”’ Then he cried out something else, sharply, but I could not make ou I had a sudden yearning o sit down. There was a chair ju inside the hop, but I missed it | ya matter of six inches. A man mate rialized from somewhere and helpe« the gendarme place me in the chair and something went trickling and burning down my throat ome topped ne whirling of the universe at once, and then revived me to a frantic ear: Had I lost it? But no, there it wa a flimsy bit f paper bearing the magic num er: 26,026. The little gendarme, beaming, elected himself my counselor and riend. How could | be a vagrant with that priceless ticket in my hand? I could not get my money intil nine o'clock, and meantime would nave the goodne to permit m! He led me to a near-by coffee hop, and pridefully ordered the t t ored by the gods, and a persor friend of his own Afterward he im perilously surmmoned a hack driver and similarly charged him, sothat | rode it tate to collect my inher tance e grand prize was ten thousand dollars. Havana ha uddenly become a beautiful and picturesque city, a lovely Millionaires spent money to come here. call what was money to me? restore my self-respect, and the hariot with haberdasher Sil lh Oc Sith carl | have for the shining stuff, and the i another notch A tailor calles that he could not supply a suit week; but Jehu, mindful! no doubt , whispered pregnant words in } ea and produced my suit of clothe n the jast taye | mpoletion he said shamelessly, ‘lam making for the Sef who is of the same size as Your Grace if t one 1? orkimeé better still, it fitted. Under the er t t ry I paid him ninety dollars for the ontreras. 1] would have kissed hin regretfully dismissing the idea of engagi: No, he would hardly be familiar with t} Continued on Page 80

Page 18

THE SATURDAY EVENING POST January 25,1919 Al Worm’s-Eye View of Filmilland ce Hel By ROB WAGNER ht tae oe through the streets of Hick- ville the villagers draping the sidewalks and windows little realized that the di- minutive green knight aboard the giant Percheron was a local artist. So con- fident was I in the complete disguise of my splendid armor and ferocious mus- tache that in passing the Arlington Hotel I looked boldly into the faces of John and Amabel Benton. It seemed to me, however, I could detect a quizzical look in my father’s eyes, and I could have sworn that I saw him gently nudge my mother. Yet if he recog- nized his lamb never an accusative word was there- after uttered. Perhaps a feeling of guilt rose out of the misty perspective of his own youth; or perhaps he understood the terrible theological fact that since the world began boys have deserted their very gods to go to the circus. All over town, then out to the grounds, twice round the outer ring to the lively music of the wonderful band, and then into the dressing tent Ah, such a day! Never will the rarest perfumes of Araby seem so sweet to me as the aroma of menagerie Ay nvented } ) teach hild nteachr ‘ I I i ‘ ve one the I ‘ ‘ ler ae ’ ‘ té eT ‘ exe At the} tud he a t i vie n th ‘ Pris ead ha te I icharact mar there the | est art meal if the ‘ ect— and amazing the number of peopl ho agree witt rir nad actor ire @ thet nvertebrate then | must be a worm It true the casting di re r has lower irds on } } ire ritte Juve nile type tuntste ind extra vet these poor ft } ¢ ld hardiv be classed a , ,) ind it u event the vould onl i maller rn f we accept a log il issll ition of act e findthem d led to tartisn ye fst and rm A st hist ! re ‘ } } brut he hing eflected on the ‘ ree ‘ fish | oft and insparently characterle ind nobody has ever claimed t aut for a worm However, the orm has one accom | ment he ul i ind tl one, looking up from his rtisti m ‘ ibout to record his observation Chev will be a wort eve view of a low but struggling art Quite inaccurate it general peaking, a character ict is one h pin part usua equiring elaborate make-up and distinctive costuming, such as an old man, e usually referred toa crepe-Nair part On the other hand a straig! icior 18 one playing role in whict is ippearance ¢ es] 1 ‘ ! ow! pl ica endowment Cherefore, while the principals and leads spend their urtiat wealt! arvel\ iVving thems es, the character stor m t by ible t represent upon the stave or screen e whole ipendou iman parade lle n { know, for tance, the difference istoms and manners of bosor i bishoy e1 t ive lastered the graceful techr ‘a red i i be able exa 1M nate a ‘ eman a ird Seeping Into the Show Business pdecneer ns nding on the mountain top, fold their arn dey { } istrator nad ( hinamen wall ‘ ‘ i i ! f H ter r! | and | ( | eme entr ! emet { e head These and a her jue t { } ea v1 must be " ered if the ha " © ¢ i to } tash ‘ ‘ i ! ne i ‘ V here ‘ lramat persona i t ind ft ‘ ente ! he wre I} 1s ‘ ent t ‘ 1 ma ha ngrowing ult he 1 t at le bn ‘ f the world alc \ he " uke £g eful t te tha tye the drama wit! t himsell ee ( | igre ! rite ‘ Nt ire t ! 4 ete “ er 1 clk ne t t ‘ ‘ Ll ar ny ( en il ( t | ! the T Vv! ‘ I was born in Lowa ) laugh. I'm proud of ! 1 ces ‘ Wuake who held opiniot it the theater it w ‘ When but a ! hild I ‘ 1 ove ‘ walt he hametul enture ta i! ew the y busine until Three Stars in Character for a Propaganda Film family hero. My father’s reading was limited to two books; and curiously enough he read Shakspere best, and down in his dear old Quaker heart he loved the Bard of Avon. Now whether or not acting is the lowest of arts it is the most elemental, for it is a child’s first esthetic expression. Every youngster acts, and strangely enough his first attempts are character work, for no child plays himself, but always something stupendously remote. Little girls as a rule do old ladies or princesses, while boys like violent folk. With me it was pirates. Brought up in so much goodness my natural reaction was toward crime My first mummery took place in Hen Biddle’s barn, where a lot of us kids put on a juvenile adaptation rewritten by me—of one of Lincoln J. Carter’s classics hat historic premiére netted thirty-six pins! At seven, operating under the alias of Gus Bender, | became a water passer in the Grand Opera House, and during two glorious asons Lsoaked up the spirit of the great American drama. hen one heavenly day in 1884 a goddess came to Hick- ville and organized a great children’s festival that lasted a wee! As the proce ds were to go to sweet charity I was permitted to participate, and was chosen to play the part of Jack in Jack the Giant Killer. As an actor it irks me terribly to admit it, but I was suct a hit in the tragic rdle of Jack that the goddess induced | to let me go and repeat my triumph at the ate capital. But alas, I did so well that dad grew alarmed d straightway sent for me; and I was put to work on a neighboring farm, where it was planned to take the show fever out of me Five years of yearning and wsthetic starvation! Once of fairyland when a play requiring extras came to town; then I got two dollars and i i while l touched the edges a chance to see the show” for the exquisite privilege of ten sizes too big for me. I know not what the manager's experience had been in the past, but in Hickville he always made us check our clothes when we hifted into the soiled costumes of Romans. Probably he ought we might steal the classic garments—and prob ibly he was right. I weighed ninety-six pounds the first time I attended Cwsar's obsequies One time a circus came to town and I met it over at the After diligently chamber- maiding for the two elephants I got an offer to ride in the junction when it unlimbered na pair of green tights, either leg of ly on a rhinoceros, I was parade Incased which would have hung loosel) ‘histed”’ aboard a pink-and-white horse with a back on him like a billiard table. So wide was he, in fact, that my legs stuck out as though I were sitting on the floor or wet sawdust. But so far as I am concerned dramatic history begins in my sixteenth year, when the ‘‘Great and Only Doctor Norcross, the Marvel of the Medical World,” came to Hickville, and for a thrilling week eased all the pains in our beloved commonwealth. The doctor was not like the old duffers one sees in country towns going about curing people with bread puis and a happy presence. No sir-ree, the doc’s dope had a kick in it; and furthermore his personal appearance was beautiful and attractive and radiated an authority that frightened even our public librarian. The Doctor’s Soap Show I RESSED in a fawn-colored coat, high hat, striped trou- sers, wearing upon his figured waistcoat afob and chain adequate to the mooring of a battleship, and upon his fingers a group of diamonds that made the Elite Drug Store look like a bat cave—I assure you the doc himself was alone worth the price of any admission. But it was not the impresario that called so loudly to little Stuart Benton; it was the show with which he regaled the countryside. Black-faced comedians, a sword swallower, a glass eater and two handsome acrobats made up his cast, fortified in their performances by a negro band in red coats festooned with golden strands! Well, to make an epochal event short, | ran away from home and joined the troupe of the great and only, and for two years I appeared before all the uncrowned heads of lowa, Kansas and Nebraska. Doctor Norcross was an indifferent man of medicine, but fortunately for me as a psychologist and an actor he had Edwin Booth backed off the boards His show consisted of three parts: The ‘opening,’ wherein the entertainers endeavored to amuse the crowd and work them up toa high degree of receptivity; then a “‘scientific and humani- tarian talk”’ by the doc, followed by the and finally the ‘‘coke,” which is short for “great demon- stration”’; cocaine, and is the process of taking money off the crowd as painlessly as possible We were all supposed to double in the first and las parts, and when one of us was the demonstrator to engage ¢ in all three. My act in the opening was to caricature the walk and eccentricities of the local celebrities, which necessitated a half day’s intensive study of their personal peculiarities. And I'll admit this much—I always got a laugh, based on the laughers’ feeling of superiority over the laughees. Besides this the doc taught me a “‘soap show,” which I pulled with rare success. This consisted in cutting Castile vq

Page 19

THE SATURDAY EVENING POST soap up into small cubes the size of a lump of igar and selling them for ten cents each— five f which I retained. The sale began after the great demonstration in which I washed my ack face to snowy whiteness in less than half a minute. In order to achieve this miracle I ised a b gy carriage sponge the pores of which vere filled with granulated soap and which gave an instantaneous and wonderful lather. As th did not prove s efficacy in cleaning textiles we had a shill wearing light trousers planted in the crowd, and he dared me to take off a huge grease spot he claimed to have achieved from the hub of a wagon close by. As the grease spot was made with black tar soap by our marvelous cleaner was rapid removal Was the great doc in reality a painless den- tist? Well, perhay so, for after extracting ome nice white beans from the nicotined mouths of the shills some local Ezra was sure o come up and submit to the great demon- ration, and if the sufferer experienced any ion of his offending molar only the colored cornetist next by heard his shrieks, for at the supreme moment the band crashed its jazziest harmonies and the victim’s pain during the extract remarks were drowned in music and applause. The heroic sufferers in silence in a world of pain are few and far between, and one of the strongest urges in man is to tell his troubles to another. Doe Norcross was one of those wonderful psychics who know how to capitalize all | or imaginary. So electrical was the human ailments, magnetism of this hypnotic mummer that the most timid oO ] nd unbutton his pocketbook. When he spilled his patter about the miserable plumbing th which most of us are equipped, and showed by charts iid unbosom his soul a and diagrams the horrific pilgrimage through the abdom- nal regions of a germ with forked tongue and sinister eyes, not one among the terrified spectators but felt a sympa | But why suffer when the fifty cents a bot thetic gnawing at his vital great elixir could be had for le? To make people well they must first A Quick Cure for Asthma | RECALL one place where the whole town had asthma and the breathing of that audi- ence sounded like a windstorm in a pine forest For the relief of these distressed fellow crea ires the doc had brewed a concoction from oil 1 mustard that wa o strong and violent that a drop would have cut the roots out of a drain pipe: and so when Seth Judson submitted his nose to a fine deep inhalation—with the usual isical distractior he breathed—tempora- rily — through a clear pipe for the first time in ears. Over two thousand wheezy purchasers ere supplied with our great germ eradicator vithin ten minutes after Seth was lured off the lot ere his pipes closed up again. Perhaps the doc’s most inspirational diag- nosis was when he discovered another town lull of people whose b 0d was dying, due to ated bushel, for those were the when most professional men are college. Yet I have often wondered paid ability to characterize the hn cession was not better trained in University of the Open Road thar In any event when I graduated lowly minstrelsy of the medicine sho | capital I had subconsciously accum I was never assigned a character | knew the prototy pe. Once Aboard the Pint if FIRST went with a wagon show tl the playing in schoolhouses, general sto houses and hotel dining rooms. It that I learned the first crude techr stage, so that when I finally landed pany that traveled ina special car a voted those years to academic cultur on the stage I began to realize wha four y att il my Iman yu h o wa i of nad play small towns ‘Sunder our own steam,” at theaters I had become a real actor. One of the gems of our rep was a cl Se es a - known as The Convict’s Daughter, in which I Real Sotdiers Make Setf:Conscious Movie Actors played the convict. Whothe author was I never knew, but I have always wished to build him a some queer orientation of the elements. Of course it would monument, for at the big moment in the dank drama when have been inhumane to have left the village to perish I gave up strong drink through woman’s love and hurled miserably, but fortunately the great humanitarian released the bottle out of the cabin window he gave me thes« his limited supply of God’s greatest gift to mankind, and mortal lines: ‘I'll never touch another drop w right away life returned to their mortifying veins. dying day!" You may wonder what all this has to do with character As to my subsequent career upon the legitimate stage I acting. More than you could guess. There is an old do not care to speak lest I reveal my ident r Stu wheeze to the effect that the greatest study of mankind is Benton is not my real name, but has been adopted mere! man, and I know of no better place to observe him than to hide behind while I air my wormy views anent the with a medicine show. . mummers of the movie For four years I trailed the doc in his happy pilgrimage When I first came into the pictures seven years ago it of healing, when sudde nly I woke up to the belief that I was at a time when to do so was considered treason to the was wasting my talents, or at least hiding them under a_ stage. Yet so firmly was my faith fixed in their promising : future that | was willing to forego my pride and grow up with them My first serious jolt was to learn that act ing is not a requirement ol creel uccess, The director wanted men who could do thing bust a broncho, drive a st } } and carried her off ab: gings up the gulch, Curley Peter (Centinued on Page 122 Nasi a aeainn Movie Land Contains Strange Bedfellows t e Ff THE FAMOUS PLAYERG-L46e MP aN y We Often Have to Grow the Foliage for Our ““Crepe:Hair"’ Parts Above —“‘Woodrow Wilson’’ When He is Not Filming is a Realestater | an engine or any other stunt of viol ability to scoop a maiden off her fron while tearing by on a wild-eyed hors« greater techn! al value than even a knowledge of the human heart Tho company had only a naive belief int ab as an actor it innocent believed n I ould pu But alas and alackada avnamic ears there were « wbx galore | In one of my earliest pictures I 1 i her prospector, and in the ene I protected Nora honor against tremens odds I did some bu a ny, but when it { » the big punct where | rescued the poor

Page 20

18 THE SATURDAY EVENING POST INSURA when Leamew ome woman ought to be killed ¢ time it happens!” “Who?” LI inquired. ‘For what?” ony nsurance-money thing,” she stated *1 see,” | said, and waited “A boy ki a irl and likes her pretty well,” she said, elucidating And he going acro And the first thing he does he goes and sees her and tells her all about it ** she hat sounds rational to me,” I agreed And the boy’s all stirred up and worried and elf-consciou ibout himself and having the world on his hands; and beginning to get homesick a little, and want to have omebody that would remember him, especially ifanything happened! And the girl's all excited and sympathetic and flushed ind looking the best she ever will in her probably And he sees that, naturally; and then some night it strikes him all at once it would be the noble thing to do-— for a soldier And she thinks it’s romant And tl ‘ uu ar ; Where?” | asked He marries her, of cou aid Nance if her mother lets him! On account of that insurance money. That arts it all, time after time Phat government insurance money o he can have someone to leave it to! Espe- ciall if the girl hasn't much, like th one Poor kid, it’s wful awful iwful! lust infants! But I say any woman, iid that wl wind conversationalist, conclud ing any mother who would allow it in the first place is just a common crim it” “Now,” | said —“‘if it’s time —tell me about it!” “You know that little DeCourcey girl,” she replied, that used to be running round here five years ago— just i littie fluffy-headed kid with her hair down her back?” “Her mother was an actress \ grass widow or some thing,” I said hat one with the supernatural blond ir” And just tl one ttle gir ash blond like her } till round with her doll 1 said In that bungalow down Well, vou know t rl was married last year: toa y named Herbert Roland Smith, who went over with

he volunteers in the fir irmy Just kids, that’s all, both of them! And married for just that reason—so they said it the t ‘ ; What rea ! he insurance money o she'd have it if anything ippene How would anybody know what they married for?” I asked hey know this,’ uid Nance “They've just had ce that his insurance was payable to her!” How From one of these people that notify you of such hing Lh lead. In France!” N ther notice from anywhere,” I said, “ before?” “Not a word i Nance Just this— like a thunder- et Dida’t Kaow What te Do. She Was Trumping Her Partner's Ace All the Afternoon —All to Pieces!"’, *That’s¢ough,” I said. “And now especially, when the war's all over practically “Poor kid,” I said. “They haven't told her yet,” stated Nance. “Her mother’s keeping it back. Has been for several days now! It’s the queerest thing. They can’t get her to tell the child.” “Why not?” I said. “‘She’s got to sooner or later. The girl will have to know to get her insurance. What's the reason for holding it back? Do you know?” “Of course,”’ said Nance, reflecting, ‘her mother’s per fectly silly; impossible, so they say. And crazy over the girl. And the girl isn’t very big and strong, of course, and yet - “What?” “| was just thinking.” “What?” “Oh, nothing,” said Nance, “‘of any consequence!” u HAT do you think happened to me to-day?" asked Nance. “What?” I responded to that familiar evening inquiry. “T had an invitation to make up a new table of bridge twice a week.” ““What’s new about that?” I said. “It’s a dull day you don't get invitations for a table with at least two new crowds,” “But not this one,”’ said Nance, “‘ever.” “Which?” “That woman—that Mrs. DeCourcey we were talking about the other day—came in and invited me this after- noon—to play with her and her daughter.” “Bridge!"’ I exclaimed. ‘‘ Now!” “Poor woman,” said Nance, “‘she’s about crazy.” “She must be,” I remarked. “‘And she wanted me to help her.” **How?” “To keep that news away from the girl. Baby—that’s what she calls her!" “You are to keep it away from her, I understand you,” I repeated formally, “‘by playing bridge! Am I right?” “Yes,” said Nance. ‘Poor woman. It was awful. She said she knew she had no right to ask me. I'd never called on her; and probably I didn’t want to. And she wouldn't have asked me for the world if it hadn’t been for her Honey Baby. But she just couldn't have her know—not yet!” “Not yet?” I said. Her Honey

January 25,1919 ILLUSTRATED Br MARIAN KEEN WAGNER

“*Yes,”’ said Nance. ‘‘And she said that she couldn't keep it much longer. For she was no good at that kind of thing—especially with her baby that she'd always told everything to. And she could see it was going to get away from her, and the girl would find out about it. She could feel it slipping—slipping. And some day she'd break down and tell her—unless I came in and helped them out!” “Playing bridge?”’ I inquired again. “Yes,” said Nance, “twice a week—two afternoons if I could—-so she would have something to interest her and to look forward to and keep her from getting suspicious, the way she is now, that something had happened. Of cours they get that way,” stated Nance. “Oh!” I answered. “And of course they knew almost nobody here. No- body’d called on them. And the girl was dreadfully blue and lonely ® she said. Al d Ww hy she came to me was becaust the girl always admired me—or so she said anyway,” re- marked N “‘and what I wore. And always watched me when I went by the house. And even dressed

ance modest ly her hair the way I did.” “What greater tribute can one woman pay another?” I asked. “And always thought I had such a lively time and so much fun. And if land somebody I knew would only come down and play bridge with them twice a week—just these few weeks—the girl would think it was the greatest thing that ever happened to her. It would just save her!” **Save her?” I said. “She knew it was a crazy thing, she said,” persisted Nance, ‘“‘coming to me like this. But she had to. She couldn’t help it. She was at the end of her rope herself And that was the one thing she could think of—the on thang that would be sure to save her Honey Baby. Be- cause the girl wanted to know me so much, And then sh broke down—the way women like that do—all over!” said Nanee, “Oh, it was awful! She broke down and kept saying: ‘She’s nothing but a baby herself! Oh, I’m so scared. I'm so scared. I’m so seared! I know it would kill her if she knew now!’”’ “Kill her?” I said, drifting helplessly. “It might, too,” said Nance. “Just think how she raised her—on nut sundaes and matinées. She has no more stamina than a little yellow chicken toddling round after its mother. Just think of the shock of it—especially now, when there’s peace and everything is all over, and she’s just waiting for him to come back!” My mouth opened and closed again upon its unasked questions as she proceeded. “It was awful,” said Nance, returning to the parent from the child. ‘‘The poor thing. A queer fluffy creature I don’t believe she’s forty herself; and made up, of course, alot younger— like a girl at the cosmetics counter. The tears

z <= —_— = === = ————— _ \)

Page 21

THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 19 rolled right down through it,” said Nance, at a slight angle. “‘ Right down her cheeks! But I never was so sorry for anybody in my life. She just worships the girl. She’s half crazy! So I did, finally—I told her I'd go. I'd get one more and we'd go down and make a table of bridge with them two afternoons a week. So I called up Sally Lou Harkness and we're going down and see what we can do.” “But she’s got to know it—the girl,” I said—‘‘sooner or later.” ‘It'll be time enough,” said Nance, “afterward!” “Afterward?” I said. “Yes, afterward!” said Nance caustically. ‘Do you want me to think you aren’t bright?”

mr ‘ wer '*' said Nance. ‘That's hard work!” What | inquired. “* Playing bridge?” That womar er answered Nance. ** Mrs. DeCourcev or whatever her real name is!” ‘ ” | asked. “But that isn’t it Can't she play at all? “Oh, terribly!” said Nance er nerve entirely. She’s down—as limp as f an old silk stocking.” “What's the matter now?” I asked her. **She’s had another letter from those people who’ ve been > writing her about collecting that insurance policy!” ex- claimed Nance. ‘‘It seems she wrote them and asked just how they were certain the boy was dead without hearing from the Government, and they sent her back this clipping from an official list in a newspaper with the name Herbert

smith “Killed?” ‘*Yes— in this list in this clipping. And they intimated,” said Nance, “‘in their letter with it that she’d better hurry if she wanted them to handle it for her—and get it! She She was trumping her partner’s ace all the afternoon—all to pieces! She said—when she where she could tell me—it was awful before, but she didn’t know what she’d do now. She'd cried all night And she looked it! One of that soft wilty kind,” aid Nance ha! | the red trimmings to their face when anything happens. No wonder she couldn’t keep anything back from the girl. Baby blondes,” said Nance. ‘I can’t bear them! ‘I never cared for them myself,” I said politely, ‘‘so didn’t know what to do il

hly, ‘‘that lies down and cries, and shows much as the black-eyed ones re “But it was awful just the same,’’ continued Nance. ‘She said she just didn’t know where toturn. She couldn’t tell her Honey Baby—now! To get her to sign that thing—that application. And she couldn’t take any chance of losing that ten thousand dollars for her either. They couldn’t —that was all! And she didn’t have a soul to asl not anybody Because they don’t know anybody much. And what did I think “So I advised her,” said Nance, ‘‘to go right ahead and wait and say noth- ing till afterward —just the way she was doing. And it would be all right! I didn’t know, of course,” explained Nance; “but the United States wouldn’t lose anything for anybody by delaying in a case like that, would they?” ‘I should say not!” “No,” said Nance, “that’s what I told her. But she went to pieces then worse than ever She almost had hysterics in the pantry. I had to shake her to get her to stiffen up and go back into the room where the girl was. I told her I’d desert her if she didn’t brace up. And that stopped her finally, Oh, she’s retty bad,” said Nance, drawing a girl?’’ I asked her. aid Nance, returning to n. “‘She’s as nice as she

can be, considering everything. And plays quite a good hand at bridge—for a beginner.” ‘You're prejudiced,”’ I said. ‘‘ Your 1 warped because she wears judgment’ her hair like yours “Ves She spoke to me about it,” aid Nance, smiling; “‘in a kind of a shy kiddish way, and said she hoped I wouldn’t mind. She’d always admired me so—or so she said anyhow! Espe- cially when I laughed and seemed to be having such a good time. And she’d watched me going everywhere, when of course they knew so few people! And she had always hoped we could be friends—a little! And then she took hold of my hand,” said Nance, looking off. “She kept taking it,’ continued Nance, still gazing away, “‘two or three times while we were taking tea. She’s a sweet kid in spite of everything. Like a little soft Ga; tank Pomeranian dog—all hair and eyes. But seared of course, now! How could she help it with such a mother? And she is terribly little and frail isn’t mine!” said Nance, and stopped again she continued at leng and young too. I’m glad she

th. “On She didn’t look a day over nineteen

“IT saw one this morning,” the street in the city In black, with a little pinched-faced baby white as she was. Anda gilt star on her arm I'd never seen that before!” said Nance. ‘‘And I hope I never shall again Though I suppose,” she observed, “‘ we'll see thousands now. But poor child! She looked so awfully scores and poor and dazed—sort of —with her baby. I could hardl keep myself from going over and putting my arm round her!” And she sat still, considering **But this one,” I said, to divert her slightly, “appar ently hasn’t waited. She’s adopted you.’ “T am glad she has—and proud of it!" said Nance “Somebody’s got to take charge of them-— that’s sure, if we're going to keep it from her. That mother of hers can't be trusted. And she certainly can't know it now when she thinks the war is all over practically and he’s coming She can’t have that shock! And she won't— not if I can help it! So we're going to watch it ourselves from so soon

*‘Her Mother Acted So Kind of Funny for Days and Dayst And She Thought Something Certainty Must be Wrong It Made Her Terribty Suspicious" now on— Sally Lou Harkness and I We're going down there every afternoon now, and play with them, and cheer her up, and keep that woman—her mother-—in line.”’ “Bridge,”’ I said, “‘every afternoon!” “Every rhe irom now on! : *To-morrow,” I ippe ted, “is Sunday!” ‘What difference does that make? a hard trreligious voice inquired Nance in iv “PVELL 1 inquired when she returned home that Sabbath afternoon, “how's the innovation? How the Sunday bridge?” ‘The funniest thing happened,” said Nance, “The girl got kind of restl nside the house So we moved out onto that half piazza It’s pleasanter ther and warm enoug! And we played out there. And who should come along just as we got started but that religious crowd— the Brigyses and the Simonds« ind the minister gong to whatever it they hold on Sunday afternoon Phe looked and saw u and started to look away quickly But I caught their eye,”’ said Nance, “‘and smiled; and they had to bow back!" Doubly damned,” I said. ‘Gaming Sunday in the hou e of the uncatalogued! “What do I care,” asked Nance ‘for them? “With this only partially explained gras widk rs said. “‘And that ultra of the eyebrows now

as gota chronic lifting ‘You want to look out, Nance, or you'll be losing your

little hall mark one of these day “Shall 1?” asked Nance belligerent], * Both pirit ial and temporal ” | added “I’m not worrying yet,” said Nance with dignity, “about my hall mark.” “No?” ‘No. Not from any of them! We've had hall marks in our family too long,”’ she vouchsafed ‘when half of their ancestors were couring other people's! And we'll have them,” she said dark] vhen the ire again! “And besides,” id Nance, their hall mar} Oo much since tl iwful war! And I wouldn’t care if they did,”’ she continued, ‘“‘and a thousand ‘people aren't relying on

I'd go there just the

times more I did to-day. She's the sweetest kid. I don’t car anybody “ay ‘ said Nance , and topped retiec ng quite a while “And it’s done anyhow We've done what we said we would! We've kept it from her! a very deep sigh and wa

lent again “Tell me about it,” I said ‘When we were through pla ny,”’ she answered

finall he aid she'd like to see me a minute he went out and left us there And she said then she wanted to than} mie he probably woutldn t see me aga tor “au while And she wanted to thank me I'd been wonderful to her! I laughed of course aid Nance; “but she wa 0 Il couldn't know how much! She said before we came and started to play bridge with her 1 couldn't know— it was terrible! All that time of thinking and nobody coming in ever Just ilways going by the house And sometimes it seemed as if she couldn't bear it: she was almost crazy thinking. She'd always beet out when she was a little virl im the t.

c before they came out here into the uburbs—the country, she called matinées and movies, and teas in the hote sometimes when they could afford it And here it was just deadly to sit and think ‘Why, just to how me, she iid, one time just be he'd got the idea in her head that Ber that’s her husband— must be <ead o1 me thing! Her mother acted so kind of fur for days and days! Just wher he glad to think he was coming |} t And she thought something certair " be wrong. It made her terrib he couldn't get it out of her he i! And ne asked her mother and ne ud ’ no, it Nia “ her mayinat mn! Rut ' couldn t get rid of the idea at int Wt came And then of course she y right iway it was all imaginatior just from our a ! It ouldn’t be true **And then,” said Nance, ‘‘she it and stared at me with those kiddish eye ot her And | irried up ar ] sid of course not! How s ! *““And she said oh, ve he knew he was pretty ire now She knew nothing had ippened to hir because if d we'd certainly have heard by tl} time And if we

eard we certainly would have told her. And any

Concluded on Page 93

Page 22

THE SATURDAY EVENING POST FOUNDED A°D' 1728 PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY BY THE CURTIS PUBLISHING COMPANY INDEPENDENCE SQUARE PHILADELPHIA, PENNSYLVANIA, U.S.A GEORGE HORACE LORIMER, EDITOR Ny shacription $2.00 the Year Five Cents the Copy of All Newsdealers lo Canada — By Subscript $2.50 the Year Single Copies, Ten Cents Kequeets for changes of address must reach us at least two weeks before an t me effective. Me we to give your old address as well as boretign Subscriptions: For ¢ ntries in the Postal Union. Single Subscrip ' 7 ee) Kemittances to be Made by International Postal Money Order PHILADELPHIA, JANUARY 25, 1919 If Your Copy is Late ECAUSE of the unprecedented transporta B tion and mail conditions, all periodicals will frequently be delivered late If your copy of rue SATURDAY EVENING POST does not reach n Thursday please do not write complaining of the delay s it is beyond our power to prevent it. If your dealer or boy agent does not place PrHE SATURDAY EVENING PosT on sale Thurs supply has been delayed in transit He will have it later da tis because his Sometime ibscription copies will be delivered first sometimes copies sent to dealers Until conditions are improved these delays and irregu larities are unavoidabl Old Stuff wk engender t emotional state x month ure when the yhting wa at t hottest, nearly evervbody t terr ‘ | lisn No annexatior no punitive indemnities, no mere ven- ince, but justice, self-determination of peoples, equal rtunities, fraternit ich, more or less, was the I il evervy ere It a ve able American psychologist pointed out that inted to know what would happen after the war we ook first of all to the opposite of what was happen y the war, because a highly emotional state he mind out of balance, so to speak, involving the ippre mofis nets and motives that normally operate W he e pre ire removed those suppressed motives ( rong! il ymmon H i eaking irned cut that way for the time Ve iftler tive gning of the armistice Euro ‘ n general took on a different tone. We did ‘ much abo deal justice, equality and fraternity Wi ‘ eu | hment Vast indemt 1M t i ambitior moplex of | pean utllerances gave a distinct im f e 4 d arm { grab England and ‘ ‘ ‘ f y claims to Syria Italy ? J ! ‘ ike the ime Adriatic Hlalf-born Poland was seizing a favorable oppor ‘ eted lake it all round itesmen of the Congress of Vienna or of the Congre Lie n would ! e grinned sympathetically and tound ‘ ‘ puile il rr n contemporaneou European here as current newspaper comment partially re | ibly stalesmanship always tends powerfully to fall ym the old stut By all the rules it ever learned an ! f national tert nowever acquired, is the f point in the game Che statesman who puts the flag w place wil For the moment atesmanship eemed back at the Congress of Vienna. But Europe is not THE SATURDAY EVENING POST back there and no statesmanship can put it back. An arrangement patterned mainly on the Congress of Vienna would not endure long because in democratic countries, with equal suffrage, the governments that made it would not endure long. Another Rate Advance? HERE is little dispute about the future of British rail- roads. They will remain in the hands of the government. Apparently they have got to, for operating costs under government management have reached a point with which private management could not cope. The London Times figures that the railroad wage bill this year will be one hundred and twenty-seven million pounds against forty- even million pounds before the war Our Government has raised freight rates twenty-five per cent and passenger rates somewhat more than that; but operating costs have increased still more. In October gross receipts of the railroads were greater than in the year before by twenty-eight per cent, or a hundred and seven million dollars; but operating expenses were greater by forty-eight per cent, or a hundred and twenty-two million dollars, so in spite of the advance in rates net earnings were maller by fifteen million dollars consume seventy-« ight per cent of gross receipts. It seems Operating costs now not improbable that the Government will have to advance rates again or pay a deficit out of the Treasury There is no question which it ought to do. Not all of us yy any means. If the railroads furnish service at less than cost, the bigger users get an advantage over the smaller users. The only fair scheme is to charge those who use railroad service what the service cost use railroad service equally Higher operating costs under government management are due mainly to higher wages; and higher wages, by and large, are a good thing. But they do not come out of the air. They must be paid for by users of railroad service or by the general public through taxation to meet the deficit When the Government advances railroad wages it is not taking a gift out of a magic cornu- copia. It is taking money out of your pocket. Pay cheer- fully, but look the situation in the face. The Bridged Atlantic \ TOODROW WILSON in Europe means the United States in Europe. When he shakes hands with pre- miers, presidents and kings on French soil it means Uncle sam has stepped one foot across the Atlantic. He, and we, got there through circumstances beyond our control. As to quoting Washington's warning against entangling alliance on railroad operation ou might as well quote his idea that a stage coach was the best means of conveyance. The fact is accomplished and ill never be undone. The United States will never agair tand in relation to Europe where it stood five year That is our vital stake in the peace conference. We have moved next door, and whether the conditions of Europe make for peace or war is a vital concern to us, for in the ong run it is going to mean our peace or our war Chere is a notion that England, France and Italy will fix up the peace substantially to suit themselves and politely invite us to subscribe to it. That is a wrong notion, which the United States should discountenance. We attempted to stand apart before, after the fighting had begun, and found that we could not. We should be still less able to stand apart if fighting began again. We want no standing apart now. This peace conference is our affair a much as it is the affair of any nation. To insist by every means that it shall be so ordered as to give the greatest possible assurance of enduring peace is not only our busi ness but by far the most important business we have on hand And the United States is very far from he Ipless With the right determination it can cut a very large or even a deci ‘ ve figure in the proceedings, because its main objects orrespond exactly with the aspirations of the great body of the plain, but voting people of Europe Bricks Without Straw Bye big popular majorities against Bolshevism in Ger- many are a matter of course. Before the war more han half the population subsisted on industry other thar agriculture. It was predominantly a manufacturing coun try. A huge manufacturing and export trade was the basi of its economy. It always depended upon foreign sources for raw materials that were vital to its manufactures. It annot start up again without a stock of raw materials It cannot get raw materials except on credit. It cannot get redit sufficient for its needs except from enemy countries Recently an Austro-Hungarian economist declared that even that comparatively backward country — industrially speaking could not possibly reconstruct itself without American cotton and copper. Still less can Germany. Imagine a Bolshevist régime repudiating debts, grab applying to America for stocks of copper and cotton on credit; and to bing bank balances, confiscating goods January 25,1919 Dutch East Indies for tin, to Sweden for iron ore, to Spain for lead, to Brazil for rubber, to Australia for wool, to Argentina for hides. That is the same thing as imagining a professional burglar applying for a job as custodian of the family silver. Eighty per cent of the people of Russia are engaged in agriculture. They can make shift for a time and after a fashion without credit. But credit is the breath of Ger- mary’s industrial life. Bolshevism is the repudiation of credit. Germany could not stir a hand under it. Of course a great majority of Germans are intelligent enough to know that. Lenine is intelligent enough to know and admit that Bolshevism cannot finally survive in Russia unless other nations go Bolshevik too. A man who pays his debts in gold will not trade with one who pays in stage money. Division of Powers + ARTER GLASS won very honorable distinction in the House of Representatives. No man in either branch of Congress worked harder or more intelligently for a sound reform of our bad old banking system. Name the man before him who graduated from a distinguished career in the House into a place in the Cabinet. We cannot name him offhand. McKinley became an outstanding national figure while serving in Congress. Neither the Presidents since him nor their chief competitors at the polls had any congressional experience worth mentioning. In the long list of Cabinet officers since 1900 Carter Glass is the only name we recall at the moment that got a statesmanly stamp in the House. If that tiresome man from Mars were given an outline of American political institutions he would naturally presume that the House of Representatives, with its frequent popu- lar elections, was our proving ground for statesmen; that men who demonstrated notable ability there would con- tinually, as a matter of course, be graduating into the Senate, the Cabinet and the White House— particularly when he was informed that the analogous British House of Commons was the school through which British political talent usually passed. But investigation would show this Martian presumption to be mostly unwarranted. The executive branch of our Government looks rather little to the popular house of the legislative branch for approved political talent. There is a sadly defective joint—-a most imperfect con- tact—between the executive branch and the legislative branch. That is the reason we have no budget system. Carter Glass’ intimate acquaintance with the legislative branch ought to be useful in improving the contact between the two branches. He is the man to take that budget system vigorously in hand. But we should like to ee the selection of distinguished representatives for the Cabinet a rule rather than an exception. Those two branches need better coérdinating. Business and Politics a successful representative business men who entered the Government’s service in a great emergency have mostly left Washington. We wonder whether their going simply closes a brief and unique chapter or whether there ; to be a se que l. Business and politics went into partnership for the war. There had been no real partnership between them, at least n this generation. By and large, business despised politics and politics profoundly distrusted business. If you took the typical political view of it, business was a jungle infested by predacious dragons, with politics playing the role of Saint George. If you took the typical business view, ignorant and demagogic politics was the chief bane of the country Business means how the people of the United States get their living. Politics means the general rules those same people make about it. In a great emergency it became evi- dent that the vital thing was to get business done — to turn out the greatest possible quantity of steel, copper, cloth and all their fabricated products. Naturally men with the most successful experience in getting it done were called in. In the emergency the rules that would produce the most goods were the ones to be adopted; the men who could produce the most goods were the ones to be con- sulted The country had to have facts in the shape of ships, guns, and so on heories that did not directly issue in such facts became irrelevant. Politics not only called business in but pretty extensively turned the job over to it. Both of them ought to have learned something from the experience. Getting the greatest possible output of goods is always mighty important. Men with the practical suc- cessful experience in producing goods ought always to be consulted. Neither politics nor business will learn anything useful by making faces at each other. The better they can understand each other the better for both of them and for the country. We're hoping there will be a sequel of better understanding. j t fh / \ i ) \

Page 23

THE SATURDAY EVENING POST By RING W. LARDNER IN THE TRENCHS, May 29. f _ RIEND AL: Well Al we have been haveing a lot of fun with a bird } name Jack Simon only the boys calls him Simple Simon and if you seen him you wouldn't ask why because you would | know why as soon as you seen him with- out asking why as he keeps his mouth open all the wile so as he will be ready to swallow whatever you tell him as you can tell him anything and he eats it up. So the boys has been stuffing him full of storys of all kinds and he eats them all up and you could tell him the reason they had the bob wire out in front was to scratch yourself on it when the cuties was useing you for a race | track and he would eat it up. Well when we come in here and took over this section this bird was sick and I don’t know what ailed him only it couldn't of been brain fever but any way he didn’t join us in here till the day be- fore yesterday but ever since he joined | us the boys has been stuffing him full and enjoying themself a his expenses, Well | he asked me was if we had saw any actions since we been here and I told him about a raid we was on the other night before he come and we layed down a garage and then snuck over to the German trenchs and jumped in to them trying to get a hold of some prisoners but we couldn't find head or tale of no Germans where our bunch jumped in as th ey had ducked and hid somewheres when they found out we was comeing. so he he wished he could of been along as he mig of picked up some souvenirs over in their trenchs. That’s 1 of his bugs Al is getting souvenirs as he is 1 of these here souvenir hounds that it don’t make no differents to | him who wins the war as long as he can » load of junk to earry it back | get a shi home and show it off. So I told Johnny Aleock and some of the other boys about Simon wishing he could of got some souvenirs so t} ey framed up on him and | begin selling him junk that they told hin | they had picked t up over i the Ger- man trenchs and Alcoch blowed some cigarette smoke in a bottle and corked it up and told him it was German tear gas and Simon give him 8 franks for it a Jac ] laths tied together with a peace of wire Brady showed him a coupl and told him it was a part of the areo- plane that belonged to Guy Meyer the French ace that brought down so many Dutchmans before the y fine ly got him and Brady said he hated to part with it as he had took it off a German prisoner that he brought in but if Simon thought it was worth 20 franks he could have it. So Simon bought it off him and wanted to know all about how Brady come to get the prisoner and of course Brady had to make it up as we haven’t saw a German let alone take them a prisoner since we was back in the training arears and wouldn't know they was any only for their artillery and throwing up rockets at night and snipping at a man every time you go out on a wire party or something. But a y way Simon eats it up whatever you pull on him and some times I feel sorry for him and feel like tipping n him off but the boys tun would be spoiled and believe me they need some nd of sport up here or pretty soon we would all be worse off then Simon and we would be running around fomenting at the mouth. Well Al I wished you would write once in a wile if its only a line as a mat es to get mail once in a wile and I haven’t heard from Florrie for pretty near a month and then all as she said was that the reason she hadn’t wrote was because she wasn't feeling the best and I suppose she got some thing in her eye but anything for an excuse to not write and you would think I had stepped outdoors to wash the windows instead of being away from her since last December. Your pal, JACK. IN THE TRENCHS, June 4 RIEND AL: Well Al nothing doing as usual only patching things up once in a wile and it would be as safe here as picking your teeth if our artillery had a few brains as the Germans wouldn't never pay no tension to us if our batterys would lay off them but we don’t no sooner The Corp. Says Take My Rifle Along and I Says “‘What For, Do You Think I am Going to Pick Simon Up With a Bayonet" get a quite spell when our guns cuts loose and remind Fritz that they’s a war and then of course the Dutchmen has got to pay for their board some way and they raise he—ll for a wile and make everybody cross but as far as | can see they don't nobody never get killed on 1 side or the other side but of course the shells me things up and keeps the boys busy makeing repairs where if our artillery would keep their mouth shut why so would theirs and the boys wouldn't never half to leave their dice game only fo chow. But from all as we hear I guess they’s no dice game goin on up on some of the other sections but they’s another kind ofa game going on up there and so far the Dutchmens ha got all the best of it but some of the boys says wait till the allys gets ready to strike back and they will make then look like a sucker and the best way to do is wait he other side has wore themself out before you go back at them. Well I told them I have had a lot of experience it big league baseball where they’s rety the same like it war but I never heard none of the big league managers te! their boys to not try and score till the other side had all the t looked runs they was going to get and further and more to me like when the Germans did get wore out they could rest up again in the best hotel in Pari So Johnny Alcocl nside of Paris because the says oh they won't never ¢ military police will stop them at the city limits and ask them for their pass and then where would they be? says tell that to Simple Simon and he shut up Speaking about Simple Simon what do you think they have got him believeing now. Well they told him Capt Seeley had sent a patrol over the other night to find out what ailed the Germans that they never showed themself or started nothing against us and the patrol found out that Van Hindenburg had took all the men out of the sectior So | ILLUSTRATED ill as he does is ride up and down some quite well even if he had a pocket full of jack he coul 21 MAY WILSON PRESTON opp. us and sent them up to the war and left the trenchs opp. us empty so Simor asked him why didn’t we go over there and take them then and they told him because our trenchs was warmer on acct of being farther south. I suppose they will be telling him the next thing that Capt. Seeley and Ludendorf married sisters and the 2 of them has agreed to lay off each other. Well Al I am glad they have got some- body else to pick on besides me and of course they can have a lot more fun wit! Simon as they’s nothing to raw that he won't eat it up wile in my case I was to smart for them and just pretended like I fell for their gags as they would of been disappointed if I hadn't of and as I say somebody has got to furnish amuse ment in a he—ll hole like this or we would all be squirrel meat Your pal, JACK IN THE TRENCHS, June 7 | pupae il.: Well Al here is a hot 1 that they pulled on this Simon bird today and it was all as I could do to help from busting out laughing wile they was telling it to him Well it seems like he must of beet thinking that over what they told him about they not being no Germans in the trenchs over opp. to where we are at and it finely downed on him that if thes wasn't nobody over there why who wa throwing up them flares and rockets every night. Sotoday he said to Brady he says “Didn't you birds tell me them trench over across the way was empty?” So Brady says yes what of it. So Simon says ‘‘Well I notice they’s somebody over there at night times or else who throws up them flares as they don't throw themselfs up."’ So Brady says the had probably left a flare thrower over there to do that for them. But Simon says they must of left a lot of flare throwers because the flares come from different places along the line So then Alcock cut in and says “ Yes but you will notice they don't come from different places at once and the bird that throws them gos from | place to another so as we will think the trenchs is full o Germans.”’ So Simon says *“* They could n’t nobody go from 1 place to another place as fast as thern flares shoot Ip from different places.” So Alcoct , couldn't nobody do it if they walked but the throws them flares don’t walk because he leg as his other leg was shot off ear But Van Hindenburg is so hard up for men you get a leg shot off as soon as the Dr. mop and sticks on the court pla ter they send the n the war and put him on a job where you don't So they stuck this old guy in the motoreyel ; here all night and stop every so often a to make us think the place is dirty wit imon thought it over a wile and then asked a man could ride a motorcycle with or ! ock says “‘Why not because you don’t half notoreycle as they run themself.’’ n how about it when you want to get off “What has a man’s legs got to do with | motorcycle a long as you have got wr they handed him Al and they hadn't ooner then got through with that dose begun on the souvenirs. First he asked | f he had new ones lately and mor u ! ‘ seen nobody that had any for sale and besides } 30 Brady asked him how much did he ha and he says about 4 franks. So Brad iys “Well you can’t expect anybody to come across with anything first class for no such chicken’s food as that o Simon sa ‘ nothing with it when they wasn't nothing to buy. Ther Brady asked him if he had saw the German speegle Ted Phillips had picked up and Simon says no so Brady went and after a wile he come back with him

Page 24

Joe use to crall « it THE SATURDAY EVENING POST >> Nee te r pocket and f 1 to be carefull and not i wing it as he wouldn't on stood there with his r } illed the speegle out of hi ¥v r i airt ttle looking ( ea gh the cract i l ita e speegl ( t f t ind ete. and y ' T ‘ o ne e would take f Well | bor ile a peel irce I il ne i | il wa he Dutel i ea bun ne took them a : i hirm what price he would set on ind PI i ibout 8 frank f i } i ind the wasn't only 4 { ‘ P} | nd said if he would e 10 i I ‘ at re t m4 franks ind t her 6 frank when he got a hold of some | | ps hur ! hawed a € al me d } ive é neve el) it hin i el i much to carr it in ne et f he " lid ‘ t prea it Well All is got mor i i fra nd Simon ha ot PI peegle and | er at t! } oft it ne y De Se him stuff n credit and he e them | ! rn ! wfore the get t} ugh th him and | | ‘ e me thing uu KNOW ‘ keep the beard nt ive and sell it to m for German toba Well I 1 half to be pretty ird up betore | ent ! ( pame like hat and | ild just as leave ¢ | Ll of them ple hat use to idle all over the walk along ) ifter the ball game and k my heel in their eye and romp off with their days receipt Your pal JACK. IN THE TRENCHS, June 11 Fen “te i/ Well Al it seem e Capt. Seeley is up on his ear because they haven't took our regt. out of he et because it seems Gen. Pershing t i (ser Foch that he was t he pl rY eit t ul part ol the | irn und ther nwhere ever the Was heede i th Deel 1 bunch | ne | } d in along the the par un the front to t ind stop the Germatr ind (apt Pete rave yw ie l e tne Pe] here and don't take u vhere ( ‘ ome actic Ay wa ] { he it told me i the t tha I lnin t get vob it of here pretty q Capt eol ‘ iid start a war ol our v1 nt ect n and all the oflicers wa ‘ ise we hadi done nothing r too | re ! ! mu SOHAL y‘make repa the vire and et Well Al how and the he | can we show themanytt gy when the kk ever send er the top or nowheres else but just ‘ is here molce you might say | t it hat | gre we have howed a t fe as the birds tha ver there | is in them other trenchs that hasn't peeped © We me in here and the boys Say t ire a won reg hat rm from pa { Germa where the Kaiser is thought of the ime a i gum t he iX fee nd ol It endly t irds us and they will leave us alone as \ 4 ‘ eave em a re and \ aa and ersa »> 1 don't see where ( pt. Seeley them he flicers ha ota right to ! is for not showit othing but I don't blame them for wishing they would take f here and show the war and l ill as we hear the plenty of place e we could do some good or at lease as much good as the bird has been there We Al they have been stringing poor long and today they give him a y and dance about some bird na Joe in the regt that was fhe ihead of us that got a. ect 1 of souvel 4 ‘ ike simon Lo rotte ind ‘ uid the guy | ed him Souven Joe on acct. of him haveing such ‘ ‘ le ' ir ad i\ >i on \ you have ‘ or 6 arti and the next thing you know they ikeing us out of here and you might maybe never ye unother chance to pick up any more rare articles so f | was you | would either get busy and get a real col- or throw away them things you have got and for- ‘ it sO ir n say i W can I get any more souvent when | haven't no more jac © buy them and besides you birds have no more to s¢ So Brad 15 ‘Souvenir Joe lidn't buy his co on but he went out and got them.” » Simon asked him where at and Brady told him this n Nobody's Land every night and pick up something and Simon says it was a wonder he didn't So Brady says ‘“‘How would he get killed as the trenchs over across the way was just as empty are now and Old 1 Legged Mike was on the job then to, so Joe would get killed. when he was here as they and his motorcycle wait till Mike had throwed a few flares on this section and then he would sneak out and get his souvenirs before Mike rounds,” Well then Simon asked him where the souvenirs was trady says they was in the different shell holes because most of Joe’s souvenirs was the insides of German shells that had exploded and they was the best kind of souvenirs as they wasn’t no chance of them being back again on his come out there and a lake Well Al I had a notion to take Simon to 1 side and tell him to not pay no tension to these smart alex because the poor crwm might go snooping out there some night after the in sand all and if something like that happe ned to him I would feel like a murder though I haven’t never took no part in makeing a monkey out of him, but I thought well if the poor cheese don’t know no more then that he is better off dead so let Your pal, JACK. ides of a shell and get the outside him go IN THE TRENCHS, June 13. | pnts VD AL: Just a line Al as I am to excited to write much but I knew you would want to know the big news. Well Al I have got a daughter born the 18 of May. How is that for a supprise Al but I gue more supprised then I was when the news come as Florrie¢ 3 you won't be no hadn’t gave me no hint and a man can’t guess a thing like that when you are in France and the lady in question is back in old Chi. But it sure is wonderfull news Al and I only wished I was somewheres where I could celebrate it right but you can’t even whistle here or somebody would crown you with a shovle. Well Al the news come today in a letter from Florrie’s sister Marie Allen and she has been down in Texas but I got her to come up and stay with her though as far as I can see its bad enough to have a baby suppose Florrie I Guess They's 1 Little Party That Ain't in No Hurry to See Me Goandl Wished You Could See Her Look at Me Al aud You Would Say its to Bad Tama Married Man With 2 Kids without haveing that bird in the house to, but they’s 1 consolation we haven't got rm. in the apt. for more then 2 kids and 3 grown ups so when I get home if sweet Marie is still there yet we will either half to get rid of the Swede cook or she, and when it comes to a choice between a ski jumper that will work and a sister that won't why Florrie won't be bothered with no family ties. Any way I haven't no time to worry about no Allen family now as I am feeling to good and all as I wish is that somebody wins this war so as I can get home and little chick Al and I bet she is as pretty as a picture as she couldn’t be nothing else you might say and I have wrote to Florrie to not name her or nothing till I have my say as you turn a woman loose on nameing somebody all alone and they go nuts and look through a seed catalog. Well old pal I know you would congratulate me if you was here and I am only sorry I can't return the complement see this January 25,1919 and if I was you and Bertha I would adopt 1 of these here Belgium orphans that’s lost their parents as they’s nothing like it Al haveing a kid or 2 in the house and I bet little Al is tickled to death with his little sister. Well Al I have told all the boys about it and they have been haveing a lot of fun with me but any way they call me Papa now which is a he—l of a lot better then Sammy Boy. Your pal, JACK. IN THE TRENCHS, June 14. P ppenei AL: I am all most to nervous to write Al but anything is better then setting around thinking and besides I want you to know what has came off so as you will know what come off in the case something happens. Well Al Simple Simon’s gone. We don’t know if he’s dead or alive or what the he—ll and all as we know is that he was here last night and he ain’t here today and they hasn’t nobody seen or heard of him. Of course Al that isn’t all we know neither as we can just about guess what happened. But I have gave my word to not spill nothing about what the boys pulled on him or god knows what Capt. Seeley would do to them. Well Al I got up this A.M. feeling fine as I had slept better then any time for a wk. and I dreamt about the little gal back home that ain’t never seen her daddy or don’t know if she’s got 1 or not but in my dream she knowed me O.K. as I dreamt I had just got home and Florrie wasn’t there to meet me as usual but I rung the bell and the ski jumper let me in and I asked her where Florrie was and she said she had went out somewheres with little Al so I was going out and look for them but the Swede says the baby is here if you want to see her and I asked her what baby and she says why your new little baby girl. So then I heard a baby crying somewheres in the house and I went in the bed rm. and this little mite jumped right up out of bed and all of a sudden she was 3 yrs. old instead of a mo. and she come running to me and hollered daddy, So then I grabbed her up and we begin danceing around but all of a sudden it was I and Florrie that was danceing together and little Al and the little gal was danceing around us and then I woke up Al and found I was still in this he—ll hole but the dream was o happy that I was still feeling good ver it yet and besides it looked like the in had forgot it was in France and was going to shine for a wile. Well pretty soon along Evan me what I knew about Simon. what about him. missing and they hasn’t nobody saw last night. So I says I didn’t know nothing about him but if anything had happened to him they was a lot of birds in this Co. that ought to pay for it. So Corp. Evans asked me what was I| drive- ing at and I started in to tell him about Aleock and Brady and them kidding this poor bird to death and Corp. Evans says knew all about that and the best come Corp. and called me to 1 side and asked Sol Says So Corp. Evans says he him since yes he thing to do was to shut up about it as it would get everybody in bad. He ““Wait a couple days any way and maybe he will show up O.K. and then they won't be no sence in spilling all this stuff.’ So I says all right I would wait a couple days b it these birds ought to get theirs if some- Says thing serious has happened and if he don’t show up by that time I won’t make no promise to spill all I know. So Corp. Evans says I didn’t half to promise as he would spill the beans him- self if Simon isn’t O.K. Well Al of course all the b« ys had heard the news by the time I got to talk to them and they’s 2 or 3 of them that feels pretty sick over it and no wonder and the bird that feels the sickest is Aleock and here is why. Well it seems like yesterday wile I was telling all the boys about the news make no from home Simon was giveing Alcock a ear full of that junk Brady had been slipping him about Souvenir Joe and Simon asked Alcock if he thought they was still any of themsouvenirs worth going after out in them shell holes. So Alcock says of course they must be as some of the holes was made new since we been here. But Alcock told him that if he was him he wouldn't waist no time col- lecting the insides of German shells as the Germans was so hard up for mettle and etc. now days that the shells they was sending over was about !4 full of cheese and stuff that wouldn’t keep. So Alcock says to him ‘What you ought to go after is a Saxon because you can bet that Souvenir Joe didn’t get none and if you would get 1 all the boys would begin calling you Souvenir Simon instead of Simple Simon and you would make Souvenir Joe look like a dud.” Well Al Simon didn’t know a Saxon from a hang nail so he asked Alcock what they looked like and Alcock told (Concluded on Page 24) ) - eg Ee ae? OP — = so wee EP ioe PPD em am = ~— - == -_ ue Ese

Page 25

ES rg 8 ee OO ag ae = Ae PED :_ _ ned a ee alee - a2 —

Aone , ne yb y “i ' a” + , 4 on eget > ee ie 8

a a ee THE SATURDAY EVENING POST

“This magical stunt I do The livelong winter through With fertile yield of farm and field l bring good c heer to you = Suppose you could do this— Or better, suppose you could go right out today into a summer garden of your own and gather all the choice fresh vegetables you want—even then you could not produce a soup more wholesome and satisfying than And it would cost you more in time, labor and money to produce a soup anywhere near as good. With a nourishing beef stock, which also con- tains the nutritious bone-marrow, we combine se- lected white potatoes, tender chantenay carrots, sweet yellow turnips, “Country Gentleman” corn, small peas, baby lima beans, Dutch cabbage, choice tomatoes, green okra, fragrant celery and parsley. We include rice, barley, “alphabet” Campbell's Vegetable Soup macaroni and sufhcient leek, onion and sweet red peppers to give a pleasing flavor. Good soup once a day at least isa most important rule for the health and condition of every family. And in this tempting Campbell soup you have a food which supplies valuable and necessary elements to nourish and regulate the system during the winter months. It saves your fuel, avoids needless drudgery, and is always ready for your table any time at three minutes’ notice. Order it from your grocer by the dozen or the case.

¥ fi Keep it y2

handy and always serve it hot. 21 kinds 12c a can Wo < "5 }@ VEGETABLE SouP +, ge Mstrn CAMPBELL G CAMDEN. WN J.U.SA Come ANY

Page 26

Concluded from Page 22 THE SATURDAY there when I heard a kind of a noise like ymebody scrunching and at the same time they was a flare throwed up from our side and I seen a figure out there cralling on the ground quite a ways beyond our wire. Well Al I didn’t wait to look twice but I called Corp. Evans and told him. So he says who did I think it as and I said it must be Simon. So he says “‘ Well Keefe its up to 1 of us to go get him.”’ Sol said ‘* Well Corp. I guess its my job.” So he says “All right Keefe if you feel that way about it.” Sol ays all right and I'll say Al that he give ul » his claims without a struggle Well I started and I was going without my rifle but the Corp. stopped me and says take it along and I says *‘ What for, do you think I am going to pick Simon up with a t.”” So he sa who told me it was re. Well Al that’s the Ist out the time I stopped to think it might maybe be menvody elise Well Florrie use to say that I couldn’t get up in the night for a drink of water ithout everybody in the bldg. thinking the world serious must ol tarted but I bet I didn’t knock er no chairs on this trip We Al it toe me iong enough to get out there as you can bet | wasn’t trying for no every time they w i i y flat and not buge But | got there Al to where I thought I had saw tl bird moveing around but the yi idn’t no ockets went up since I started and it was p ship and I couldn’t make out no tigure of a man or nothing else and I wa ist going to whisper Simon's name when I reached out 1 hand and touched him. Well Al it wast Simon, Well old pal we had some battle this bird and me and the both of us forgot bayonets and guns and everything else I would of killed him sure only he got a hold of my left ind between his teeth and I couldn't pry loose But believe me Al he took a awful beating with my free hand and I will half to hand it to him for a game bird only vhat chance did he have? None Al and the battle couldn't only end the 1 way and | ist getting ready to grab hi wind pipe ind shut the meter when he left go ol my other i and let out a yell that you could hear all over the great lakes and then all of a sudden it seemed like everybody as takeing a flash light and then the bull come Whizzing from all sides it seemed like and they got me 3 times Al and never ked this other bird once. Well Al it wasn t till 2 wh ago that I found out that my opponent was Johnny Alcock Just 2 wk ago yesterday Johnny come in and seen me and told me the whole story and it was the Ist day they left me see anybody only the Dr, and the little nurse and was the Ist. day Johnny was able to be up and around. How is that Al to put a man in the hospital for 3 wks..without in or knife or nothing on him \ fist Some fist eh Al. Well it seems like he had been worring so ibout Simon that he finely went out there nooping around all by himself looking for him and he was the 1 1 seen when that flare went up and of course we each thought th> other 1 was a German and finely it was him yelling and the rockets going up at the that drawed the fire and I got all of it because | was the bird on top. But listen Al till you hear the funny part of it. Simple Simon the bird that we was voth out there looking for him showed up in uur trench about a hr. after we was brought in ar e showed up with a Saxor all right but the Saxon was dead. Well Al 10on told them that he had ran into thi guy over near their wire and that he was alive when he got him, but Alcock says that Brady iid Simon hadn't only been gone 4 hrs. and the Saxon had been gone a he—1l l of a lot longer then that. ime time EVENING POST Well they’s no hard feeling between Al- ss I more then got even with him for eating out of my hand as they but Johnny said it was a shame I couldn’t of used some of m; German instead of him but any way its all over now and the Dr. says my leg is pretty near O.K. and I can walk on it in a couple left arm won't be no use for god knows how long and maybe never and ky they didn’t half to elip it So I don’t know when I will get out of here or where I will go from here but I ’s 1 little party that ain’t in no y to see me go and I wished you could see her look at me Al and you would say its to bad I am a married man with 2 kids. cock and I and I gue SOMEWHERES IN FRANCE, 1 Al I don’t suppose this will reach you any took it with me and mailed it when I get nothing to do for a few hrs. so I might as well be writeing you old pal I am homewards bound as Feeney as far as I am ng tonight along I am lucky to be in as good a shape a for my arm and pretty good in a can say is thank god it is m) them on their head again begging to Comiskey give me another aying good by to old France ow how the rest of the not haveing no trouble vhen it comes down here in this old sea pr and it seems like I ean still hear them big guns roar and them p my head down all the wile and keep { nippers way and I could all most Ly eyes and imagine I was back there ll hole but I know I’m not Al as I don’t itch. I am comeing home but they’s another mn and that is that they want some of us poplar idles to help rouse up the public on this here next liberty loan and I don't mind it as they have promised to send me home to Chi and I can be with Florrie and I will do what I can Al thoug! figure where the y rouseing up and they certainly wouldn’ if they had of been through what I have been through and maybe some of the other It takes jack to run a war Al even boys don't get none of it or what we do get the ye ither send it or take it away from us in a « Well old pal I left the hospital the day efore yesterday and that was the on I felt like erying since they told me I was g home and it wasn’t so much for my- Al but that poor little nurse and you d of felt like crying to if you could of seen the look she give me. Charlotte Warren and she lives in Minneap- olis and expects to go right back there January 25, 1919 after she is through over here but that don’t do me no good as a married man with a couple children has got something better to do besides flirting with a pretty little nurse and besides I won’t never pitch ball in Minneapolis as I expect to quit the game when I am about 40. Well Al some of the boys wants to say their farewells to the Vin Rouge and the la la las and I will half to close and I will write again as soon as I get home and tell hat the baby gal looks like though they’s only the 1 way she could look and Well here is good by to France and good luck to all the boys that’s going to stay over here and Simple Simon with the rest of them and I suppose I ought to of got a few souvenirs off him to bring home wit! me. But I guess at that I will be carrying souvenir of this war for a long wile Al anc its better then any of them foney ones he has got as the 1 I have got shows I wa realy in it and done my bit for old Glory and the U.S. A. Your pal, JACK. CHICAGO, Aug. 29. se 1L.: Well Al here I am ba in old Chi and feeling pretty good only for my arm and my left leg is still stiff yet and | caught a mean cold comeing across the old pond but what is a few little things like at as the main thing is being home. Well old pal they wasnt nothing hap- pene 1 on the tr p across the old pond only it took a whole lot to long and believe me old N. Y. looked good but believe me I in’t waist no time in N.Y. or £ long enough to climb outside a big steak and the waiter had to cut it up for me but even the waiters treated us fine and everywheres we showed up the people was wild about u and cheered and clapped and it sounded like old times when I use to walk out there to Val ip. Well we hit N.Y. in the A.M. and left that night and got here last eve. and I didn’t leave Florrie know just when I wa i I wanted to supprise her. We to of wired ahead and told her to go easy on my poor old arm because i vhen she opened the door and seen me she give a running hop step and jump and dam near killed:‘me. So then she seen my a in a sling and cried and cried and she say “Oh my poor boy what have you beer through.”’ So I says “‘ Well you have beer through something yourself so its 50 50 6 only I got this from a German Well Al little Al was the cutest thing you ever seen and he grabbed me by the good hand and rushed me in to where the f little stranger was laying and she was asleep ' nut we broke the rules for once and all and all it was some party and she is some little gal Al and pretty as a picture and wher you can say that for a 3 mos. old going some as the most of them looks like a French breakfa Well I finely happened to think of Sister Marie and I asked where she was at and Florrie says she had went back to Texa tough luck and Florrie says | oO gay the Ist. evening home om vy way we have an Si t a Marie in the > as that 1s what I ca the baby.”” So I says “ Well you can think of her that way but her name ain’t going t« be that as I don’t like the name.” So she says what name did I like and I pretended like I was thinking a wile and finely I says what is the matter with C otte. Well Al you will half to hand it to the women for detectives as I hadn't no sooner said the name when she says “Oh no you can't come home and name my baby after non of your French nurses.”” And I hadn’t told her nothing about a nurse. Well any way I says I had met a whol lot more Maries then Charlottes in Franc: and she says had | met any Florries and | said no and that was realy the name I had picked out for the kid. So she says well he didn’t the name herself but it was the only nar I could pick out that she wouldn’t be suspicious of it so the little gal is named after her mother Al and if she only grows up 's as pretty as her old lady it won’t make no differents if she has got a funny name. Well Al have you noticed what direction the Dutchmens is makeing their drive ir now? They started going the other way the 18 of July and it was 2 days ahead of that time that our regt. was moved over to the war and now they are running them ragged. Well Al I wished I was there to help but even if I was worth a dam to fight I couldn’t very well leave home just now. Your pal, JACK. - i 2 come, mS" .

Page 27

4 “ i » & qi ” 4 { i 1 i ™ ! it , q \j ‘ | ; 4 { | ; 4 4 Z {} $ > iy ar ip em rath f m4 f Tt { j \ > | ay aT ft 7% 5 im «(6 _ | i} j wa e ‘ a A ‘ i li iY y {a , i vd ’ \ ' » &

THE SATURDAY EVENING POST ts ~ ME LAA as ™~ n

~ “A YOU BUSINESS MEN:

i Mh) aS

OU BUSINESS MEN with whom the obligation rests of speeding up the works and making business boom during these busy days of reconstruction, must recognize the great necessity for keeping fit. No minor obligation, this! For much depends on keeping wits at razor edge and nerves in strict control. You'll these new times. find mild Robt. Burns adaptable to His full Havana filler satis- fies the most exacting smoker’s taste—yet his peculiar mildness more than ever suits the changed conditions which exist today. A modern man’s cigar is Robt. Burns—that is to say, a mild cigar that busy men can smoke with utmost confidence. SMeor you toed re Latily ? THE NATIONAL SIZES of Robt. Burns are priced from 10c to 15ce. in quality, sells at 6c. Little Bobbie, a small cigar, but very high Robt. Laddies, still smaller, come 10 in a package Burns price 30c. Wherever men travel throughout the United States they will find Robt. Burns cigars GENERAL CIGAR CO., INC., 119 West , New York City 10th St

3 =413 d ashe > 2. G Paro, a Ld RS Be’ és? An... Cg #7 : ¢ s 4 Bo. Me tae .

Page 28

26 THE SATURDAY EVENING POST ION’S ivmiinwiu wun By Frederick Orin Bartlett Tik if 5 ite been f nd tor old-lashioned Chere were moments when he doubted whether ble ever to make the love of God as compelling motive for righteousness as the fear of God. At the be t {} econd year in tl his first parish, those oment vere coming th increasing frequency Webster had eome to Lancashire filled with the zest of t a clean big heart and an honest desire to make the better for his activiti He was willing to preach, brat ‘ ws ome ontent to let } effort rest there He ished to see some tangible results in the shape of happier ri He was willing to do the routine work of the paris! though if consumed so much time; but he vanted to atch ity n better ] ny condition And that is where eemed to him he had failed utterly, From behind his battle-searred pulpit, where for over fift ears one man after another had stood and fought h earnest best, he overlooked every Sunday a congregation that ut sparsely filled the wooden pe a congregation handed down to him like an inheritance constituting part of the furnishings of t} house of the Lord. They included, to be ire, most of the best men of the town, and their ‘ nd their sor and the daughter even ome yrandsons and granddaughters; but as they had been turned over to him, inventoried, so after year the tood to-da They were neither more nor lt They were neither better nor worse They were, as individuals and as a unit, of no more importance to the community at ime here Nor was he Sunday after Sunday he had put the best of himself into his ay peais to make the brotherhood of man nl ny truth to be practiced. and he had icceeded Oo nm making himsell eloquent He looked dowtr nto erit illv intelliwent eye that responded ipprovingly to his genuine outbursts ol rit ! " they might lently ap- laud some killed acto And that is true of the brightest and most iscinating of all those eye the immer-blue eye of Dorothy Sted mat vyho satin such dainty contrast the grim figure of het father It i wainst Webster’ Wishe that ‘i he tulked so much into those eyes 4 There was never a Sunday morning ; that he did not resolve to avoid ey then never a inday hen he did ‘, not end by seeing them s1 e back at his futile effort ES l'o be sure he occupied the center L pew in the center aisle and was flanked by all the other most important mem bers of the chureh; but to claim that as an excuse was mere @Vasiol lhe yirl was disconcertingly attractive, whether in church or out of if The chances were that if he had managed to escape her eyes he would then have been foreed to acknowledge some minor deta like her pertly stylish bonnet, or her ¢ eeks, which were the texture of rose-lenves, or her smal! nose, or her exquisite mouth, or maybe the cameo pi e wore at her soft throat —all, if one had no choice, ke worthy objects of pulpit oratory than her eye Webster had been obliged to turn to her often in the last few months’in the matter of raising money for one thing and another. It was an extremely distasteful necessity. He never Uid it until he had exhausted more of his own salary allowance than he had any business to do; but, even so, that sum never took him very far. The next step was to canvass the many who could give a little, though that left him feeling like a professional begyar The final step, when the need was great, was to go to her with, of course, the expectation that she would in turn go to her father. It was a tricky bit of business, even admit- ting that Stedmar is owner of the leading grocery store town, could well afford to give. The fact, however, was that he would not unle he wheedled it out of him. And Webster did not like that sort of business. He was against wheedling of any so This whole problem of money begging galled him. He afed under it constantly. And yet there was no way of iping it. The current expenses were always met; but ere were so many more calls, And so many more beyond W those— urgent calls that concerned human lives, even T RA T E OD BY wWwWrett G l was one of the facts he had not learned in the Pease Never Quote to Dad About the I heological school. They had taught him how to feed men’s souls, but not their bodies. In theology the two were unrelated. Apparently they were unrelated in the minds of the members of his own parish. That was the difficulty. Ina fashion it had been preached to them. Jesus had thrust the money changers out of the temple. And the text ran: “‘No man can serve two masters . Ye cannot serve God and mammon.” So the temple was to be kept free of all taint of money. It was to be a refuge for purely spiritual needs, including those of the money changers on the days when they were not changing money. Stedman did not approve of any form of social-service work conducted by the church. “The church is for the gospel,’ he declared in his flat- footed way And yet Webster could not see where the gospel was reaching him. While others, those with breaking hearts and heavy burdens and supplicating hands— well, there Camel and the Needte's Eye. It Makes Him Very Cross"’ REF & January 25,1919 are times when the gospel can be only a proffered stone if bread is needed. Webster got all worked up overnight on a scheme to build in town a boys’ club after the Y. M. C. A. plan. It was needed to offset the influence of the pool rooms. He had discovered a lot of things those pool rooms were doing to the boys in town. It was practically their only meeting place outside of school cow @ hours on days when they could not play i a outdoors. The older men the youngsters , ran across there were not good for them. Webster’s idea was to build a sub- stantial structure, which should contain a gymnasium, possibly a bowling alley even a few pool tables and shower baths. Upstairs he would have a library and game room. As far as possible he wanted the boys to conduct the enterprise them- selves. He would charge a small fee enough so that the members would respect their privileges—and have it ab- solutely nonsectarian. From time to time he would secure prominent men in various professions and branches of business to give the boys practical talks. There was no end to the possibilities for good that might come through such an organization. The idea furnished Webster with just the outlet he needed for his own pent- 2% up energies. He fairly boiled over with enthusiasm. He did not stop to figure the cost, but placing it as round five thousand dollars— what difference in the world did a thousand or two dollars make on such a proposition as this?—he went to see Stedman himself. During the half hour he talked Webster seemed to forget utterly the past history of the man. He thought of him only as one in position to finance the whole thing if he chose. It was inconceivable that he should not choose. Grimly puffing a black cigar Stedman sat back and listened. A man could not have done otherwise, for Webster was at his best. Never in the pulpit had he been so eloquent as he was then. As mute testimony to the fact Stedman allowed his cigar to go out and, with head inclined a little backward, surrendered himself completely to the magic of Webster’s words. When the young man concluded he roused himself with a start. Then he reached for a match and relighted his cigar without a word of comment. “*Don’t you see what a fine thing it’s going to be for the boys?” inquired Webster. “The way you tell it,’”” nodded Stedman cau tiously. “‘I don’t think I’ve exaggerated. It’s been tried out in cities and accomplished all I’ve said, and more. The need of it is really just as great in the country towns.” Stedman ventured no comment on this. He did not propose to commit himself in the slightest. “The only thing that prevents us from starting on the building right away is lack of money,” declared Webster. Stedman couldn’t suppress a smile at that naive statement — his thin lips barely separating “That's all that ever prevents a man from starting anything, isn’t it?”’ he suggested “It does seem to be a pretty important element,’’ ad- mitted Webster. “Right!” “On the other hand, about all money is good for is to start things with, isn’t it?” “That's for every man to decide for himself,’ Stedman replied ominously. In spite of this warning Webster persisted. It seemed to him as though his whole pastorate was on trial. If, as the result of this year’s work, he had not been able to make the truths he had been preaching enough a part of this man’s life to induce him to interest himself in a practical way in an undertaking with such prospects for good as this, then he had failed even more completely than he feared. He had tried his best to make the church a vital factor in Stedman's everyday life; his business life. If he (Continued on Page 28)

Page 29

7 ; { t 3 | \ THE SATURDAY EVENING POST ‘Tis interesting to note how people talk of the Hupmobile as though it were an unusual find of a motor car,in a class of its own. It is not classed as a four-cylinder car, but almost always referred to in terms of its remarkable performance. ‘The explanation 1s, of course, that such results are not usual 1n the four-cylinder type. Were it not for the refinements of eleven years, the Hupmo- bile would be merely a good four-cylinder car—but not /he Comfort Car.

Page 30

28 THE SATURDAY EVENING POST Continued from Page 26 had succeeded the man would realize his obligation. Here wus the test Webster leaned forward a little and spoke without equiv- ocatior ‘Mr. Stedman,” he said quietly, ‘‘I came to you hoping that you might want to take over the whole proposition.” “Eh?” snapped the man “You've been in business here in town all your life. You've made money. The total amount I need would not entail any great sacrifice upon you, would it?” ‘What of it?” growled Stedman. ‘Doesn’t this appeal to you as an opportunity?” “J don’t have to look very hard for opportunities to give away money.” “If you did there wouldn’t be any particular satisfac- tion in having money, would there?” “Well, | wouldn’t have any if I listened to everyone who came along asking for it—that’s sure!” “Do you think there’s anything pleasant in having to ask for it?” inquired Webster with an expression that made Stedman look up. “It seems to be fairly easy, anyhow.’ “Well, it isn't,”’ returned Webster emphatically. ‘It would be easier to go out and earn it if a man had the chance Stedman accepted that challenge, It sounded to him like a good opening for escape. “There’s no law against a man earning money,” he suggested. “If some of you charity fellows tried it for a while it might give you a new point of view.” Webster made no reply; which gave Stedman the impression that he had him. Like a good strategist he followed up his advantage. ‘It’s easy enough for you to sit in your study and think up ways of spending five thousand dollars; but if you had to get out and earn that amount maybe you wouldn't feel so free and careless about it. Five thousand dollars is a good deal of money, young man. It stands fora lot of thought and hard work. Dollars don’t grow on bushes—not round here. You have to make ’em—cent by cent.” “And yet,” said Webster thoughtfully, *“‘vou've been able to make a good many of them in the last few years.” “I've made them— yes,” returned Stedman, \ ‘*‘No one ever gave me any that I can re- member. I got out and hustled forthem; and ] have to get out and hustle to-day, Sitting etill and thinking wouldn't get me anywhere. . You can write sermons that way, but you can’t make money. And that’s allright. It’s us it should be. Every man to histrade. But I don’t see where you have any more right to come down here and tell me how to spend my money than I have to come up to your study and tell you how to preach your sermons. I’ve never done that, vmave I?” ‘‘No,” answered Webster. “I'm not sure, how- ever, that it wouldn't be a pretty good idea. You ought to be able to give me some sound, practical suggestions.” “Well, I haven't. And I won't. I don’t believe in inter- fering with any man’s business,” ‘Helping isn’t the same as interfering.” ‘Comes pretty near amounting to the same thing in declared Stedman, “And it certainly does when you try to combine business and religion. It can't be done! The two things are separate and were meant to be separate. Didn't Jesus turn the money changers out of the most case a. temple?” “Yes,”” nodded Webster with a grim smil le at his own recollection “I'm not criticizing that. I approve of it. The temple was no place for them to do business, But it’s only fair and square for the preache r in their turn, to kee p on their side of the fences Then on the seventh day let the two get together.”’ “Good heavens!” exclaimed Webster. “Is that all the church means to you?” It can mean something and mean only that,” replied Stedman. “I've liked your sermons, If I hadn't I wouldn't have listened to them.’ “But what good have they done?” persisted Webster. “About twenty-five dollars’ worth in this case,"’ con- cluded Stedman, “I'll make out a check for that amount.” Webster rose He faced the man aggressively, “Don’t bother,” he said quietly ‘Eh?” gasped Stedman, “IT mean it. If I’ve got to plead with four men for every hundred dollars as I’ve pleaded with you, that means two hundred and ninety-nine men for the fiye thousand. | won't do it! It’s too humiliating. I’m through with this sort of thing.” Stedman appeared disturbed. “You're going to drop the Boys’ Club?” “No. I'm going to try to figure out some way of earning the money.” “Going into business?”’ he questioned with a return of his good humor. “T might. I don’t believe it would be any harder than begging. Certainly it ought to be pleasanter.”’ ““My boy,” grinned Stedman, “‘I wish you luck!” “Thanks; but you don’t do business on luck, do you?” Then let me say I wish you:success.”’ “Thanks again; but if I win that it will be because [ deserve it.” Stedman’s eyes narrowed. This was not the sort of talk one expected of a min- ister. There was altoge ther too independent a note in it. He was not sure he liked it. Apparently Webster did not care whether he did or a not, for with a curt “Good evening!”’ he walked out. As he started down the front steps Dorothy rose from a chair on the piazza and came toward him with laughing eyes. “You ought to let me handle dad for you — always,” she whispered. ‘‘I’ll bet you didn’t get what you wanted.” “No,” he admit- ted; “I didn’t.” “or “Ie Would Do Dad Good to be Beaten for Once in His Life —in a Good Cause" “Sit down here a moment on the front step and tell me about it.” She pointed toa place beside her and reluctantly he obeyed. “Hlow much did you go after this time?” she asked sweetly. “Five thousand dollars,” he replied. She gave a low whistle of surprise. “My stars, you were reckless!" she exclaimed with something like admiration. ‘‘ How much of the five thou- sand did you get?” “He offered me twenty-five dollars.’ “Well, that wasn’t so bad—for dad.” “*T refused it.” “You—you what?” “I wouldn't take it.” She was sorry that they were not in the light where she could see him better. There was a new quality in his voice—a determination in his face that was rather thrilling. She had never before seen him like this. It was as though he was not any longer the minister—just a nan “You dared do that?” she exclaimed. “Why shouldn’t I? He hasn’t bought me, body and soul, with his money,” January 25, 1919 “I know; but twenty-five dollars is twenty-five dollars. You ought to have taken that. Then I might have gotten another twenty-five.” “Yes—but how?” “By coaxing,” she admitted. “That’s it,” he broke out. “I go round begging and you go round coaxing. It isn’t decent. It isn’t fair or right to you or to me or to him. And it’s just the same with the others. I’ve been through it all until I’m tired of it. It would take a year to raise the money—a year of begging and wheedling, and church fairs and social entertainments that are worse than either. Why, the last time we had to stoop to grab bags and lotteries—out-and-out gam- bling! The other features came pretty near the line of obtaining money under false pretenses. If the church had not been promoting them we'd have been arrested—and deserved it. In the year or more I’ve been here we’ve never sold a ticket to any- thing where, under ordinary conditions, people would not have demanded their money back.” “It was for charity,” she interrupted. “T know,” he ran on; “‘good charities—worthy charities every one of them. We needed the money badly and we've used every cent of it honestly. But what of that? Would the way I spent it justify me in break- ing into the savings bank for what I need? “This whole problem of money is a serious one,” he went on thoughtfully. “And it’s getting more serious every day. I think if Jesus were here now he’d talk a lot more about it than he did before.” “Please never quote to dadfabout the camel and the needle’s eye. It makes him very cross.” “I don’t wonder,” declared Web- ster. “The church has always taken an aggressive attitude toward the rich man—and then been forced to get down on all fours and beg for the crumbs from the rich man’s table. We've come to associate money with evil. I suppose that’s only natural enough, because there’s no doubt much of it has been ill-gotten and ill- spent. “But that’s only as true of money as it is of any other source of power. Money is power—the most universal and democratic power in the world. If it’s a power for evil, it’s just as much a power for good. That’s what the church has lost sight of.” ““You’re preaching now,” she said regretfully. ““No—I’m just groping. I—I think I’m getting hold of an idea. I’ve been blaming business men for not under- standing the church better; but I’m not sure that half the blame does not rest with the church for not understanding business better. “After all, the two have a lot of things in common. The trouble is that neither realizes it.’ “You're still preaching,”’ she insisted. “Wait a minute!” he pleaded. ‘I’m coming to some- thing. It helps—to think out loud here beside you. Do you mind?” He was not preaching when he said that. She colored. “‘No; but there isn’t much satisfaction in helping by just keeping quiet.” “You see,” he went on, “‘I’ve been holding too much to one point of view. All I’ve thought about has been how to use business in the church; now what I'd like to try is using the church in business.” He paused. “Do you understand?” “It sounds as though you were proposing to go into business yourself,”” she replied diffidently. “That’s it!’ he exclaimed. “It’s what I told your father.” “Selling things?’ “‘Certainly—that’s what business means.” “But what in the world have you got to sell?” she inquired, “I'll have to find something.” “Books?”’ She shuddered. “No,” he answered emphatically. She appeared relieved. “The trouble is, a church doesn’t have anything to sell,”’ she mused. “Of course there’re marriages and funerals; but you couldn’t do very much to promote marriages, and if you increased your business in funerals you wouldn't be popular. Besides, how could you?” “I’m serious,” he chided her. “Well?” “Supposing I were a young man — “You are, aren’t you?” “A young man just coming to town, with his way to make.” “You'd probably try to get a job with dad. Most of them do.” (Continued on Page 30) | 4 = 9 — —

Page 31

Ee AA - Ud 0 ‘ t ‘ THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 29 West Street, Nortu River Front, New York Ciry —The p ' 1918 picture indicates how the manufacturer within a radius of fifty Sf, s* miles can save time and labor over his methods of ten years ago, by Bu, MV delivering directly to the pier by motor truck without rehandling. \ In 1908 he shipped to New York by freight or express over the rail roads and his goods were rehandled by horse-drawn wagons from the bes i terminal to the ship. Goods Must Move On Time HE RAPID, uninterrupted How of goods from maker to market is essential. DELAYS ARE COSTLY. A long-w caring tire con- tributes to the guarantee against delay. Fisk Truck Tires, solid or pneumatic, are long-wearing. CONSTANTLY INCREASING sales prove the confi- dence of careful buyers. Mapk in all types for every use. WHEN in need of truck tires—buy Fisk. FISK TRUCK TIRES |

Page 32

30 THE SATURDAY EVENING POST (Continued from Page 28) ‘That wouldn't be a bad idea—only I don’t want a job; I want a business.” ‘Then you'd probably buy that little grocery store on the hill and try to compete with dad. A lot of them have done that.” “A lot of them?” “They always lose their money, and end by offering stock, fixtures and goodwill at cost.” “They fail?” “T saw a sign up there to-day.’ Webster frowned. It might have been Stedman speak- ing. She roused in him the same spirit of aggressiveness. “There ought to be room in this town for another grocery store,”’ he answered. “Not with dad on the job,” she countered. “I'd like to try — He sounded serious. As a matter of fact one of the foiled ambitions of his boyhood had been to be a grocery man He liked to do up bundles and he enjoyed the smell of coffee. But in many other ways this idea she had so lightly suggested appealed to him. It was, in the first place, like a challenge from Stedman Here was a chance to meet the man on his own ground. Perhaps this was not an altogether worthy motive: but there it was. He could no more account for it than he could explain his reason for singling out Stedman from his whole congregation to shoulder the blame for the short- comings of all the other male members, none of whom were any better and many of whom were worse. He certainly was unjust if influenced to this by the daughter. Webster got on his feet “Jove!” he exclaimed. “I should like to try it!” “And give up your church?" she asked anxiously. “No; I don’t see any need of that. I ought to be able to preach all the better sermons for knowing my people better—not only the people in my own church but all the others. I’m just going to give up the begging. I'm going to take the time I put into that and put it into earning. That's the only difference.” “If you're going to beat dad you'll need all your time.’ “| don’t want to beat dad,”’ he smiled. ‘I want to share with him—that’s all. I'll have to find someone to help me in the store, of course; but that ought to be easy.” She looked up at him. “You make it sound very attractive,’ she admitted. He hesitated a moment. Then he said in a low voice: “You have your obligations to your dad, and you're going to be faithful to them. That’s you. And a grocery store is no place for you; but if things were different " He paused “Yes?” she asked eagerly. “I'd give you a job; and, together, we'd win,” In the dark she could hear the west wind rustling the maple leaves. In the dark she could hear her heart beating. She caught her breath. **Goed night,” she suid quickly “Good night and good luck!” This time he felt as though, business or not, that wish meant something. mu | Wy iy WAS still early and this wa * a . the evening when all the vil wt lage stores remained open. In stead of turning back to his study the Reverend Sam Webster continued along High Street and » down the hill A few * moments later he was standing before a two story building, the lower story occ upied, as the sign indicated, by A. P Jarvis, Grocer. As fara Webster could see Jarvis was at that moment the sole occupant of the store. The two show windows were dusty and dirty, and across one of them hung the ominous sign: For Sale The owner was still doing busi ness, or, at least, was holding himself in readiness to do business, for the interior was lighted by several kerosene lamps and the door was open \s Webster entered a stout, bald-headed man, with au round, weary-looking face, came forward more as though it were a matter of habit than because he took any particular interest in so doing. He waited pa- tiently while Webster looked about. On the left stood a counter with, at one end, a battered show case containing a few half empty and several entirely empty boxes of penny sweets; on the right of that was a case with a few cigars in it; then an interval of counter with, at the other end, a set of scales. Back of the counter the shelves were as sparsely occupied as the pews in his church on a rainy Sunday. On the opposite side of the store stood a second counter, quite as uninteresting as the first. A few cases of wilted vegetables were propped against it, and beside them several half barrels of potatoes and apples. On the shelves back of these there were odds and ends of extract bottles, table dishes and agateware; also a miscellaneous collec- tion of crackers in battered tins. Webster gathered a very clean-cut impression that if he had stepped in here for the purpose of making a purchase he would have immediately turned round and stepped out again. The man did not need his For Sale sign outside. It was written over every detail of the store itself. Failure, dismal, listless failure, hung like a fog about the place. It shrouded even the owner. “How,” exclaimed Webster, expressing his own thoughts without any preliminary introduction, “how did you ever get into such a conditic) as this?” Jarvis blinked his eyes as though he had been given a jolt in the ribs. **What’s that you say?” he asked. “I saw your sign in the window,” explained Webster; ‘so I knew you were going out of business. But I didn’t know you had got so far out.” “Trade hasn't been very brisk for some time,”’ admitted Jarvis. “Are you Mr. Jarvis? “That's my name.” “My name is Webster. I wanted to see what sort of a proposition you had here.” “Oh!” responded Jarvis with growing interest. ‘‘ Well, now, it ain’t as bad as it looks. You see, I haven’t been very well myself—rheumatiz all the spring—and I ain’t been able to hire help good for anything; so the store’s got sort of run down. But, with a good, pert man to take hold, a young man like yourself, it might be made somethin’, Honest, it might! An’ I’m ready to make the price right — stock an’ goodwill.” “How long have you been here?” “Little over one year. The lease has got three years to run.” Jarvis, then, must have come to town about the same time Webster did. They were contemporaries. It was a curious thought that led Webster to won- der whether, if his own stock in trade could be spread out before the eyes of the world as this was, it would show up any better. It served to make him a little less aggressive. “T’'m not experienced in this business,”’ said Webster, “‘so I don’t know just how you’d go about placing a value on it.”’ ‘ inquired Webster. “There's No Law Against a Man Earning Money. If Some of You Charity Fellows Tried it for a While it Might Give You a New Poiat of View" January 25,1919 ‘Well, the books are in there—if you’re really interested.” “tom,” “You can go over them and you'll see where I got a pretty good start, and then things fell off. Of course I ain’t real pert, as I said, and a younger man could have got out more. Still, I done pretty fair—pretty fair.” “You say the business fell off after the first few months.” “Tt did—kinder,” admitted Jarvis uncomfortably. **And you lay that wholly to your own ill health?” “Mostly. But, of course —— You a stranger in town?” a hg ‘Of course Stedman’s store has got a pretty strong hold; but I done a cash business and so could sell cheap—until he began to crowd the prices down.” “Below where he could make any money himself?” Jarvis met the direct eyes looking straight down into his. “Yes—if you want the truth.” “Then it’s Stedman rather than your own health that is responsible for the loss of business?” “It’s pretty hard for a little feller to beat that game, admitted Jarvis. For a moment his face lighted. ‘But, by Gad, it would be worth doin’ if you could!” he ex- claimed. “If I was your age and had the capital I’d ’a’ given him a run fer his money. There’s plenty round here that don’t like him.” **Your goodwill consists mostly of hate?” “Tf you wanter put it that way,” snapped Jarvis, who seemed slowly to be coming to life. ‘‘But who are you?” “My name’s Webster.” “You ain’t the Reverend Sam Webster?” oe ps “Jehoshaphat! That don’t say much fer my church- goin’, does it?”’ Jarvis assumed a confidential air: ‘‘ Have they fired you—up there?” “Not yet.” ** Ain’t Stedman a member of your church?” “Yes,” answered Webster, without being sure whether the admission would count for or against him. “Then, what in thunder Jarvis shook his head without finishing. The situation was too much for him. “Let’s get back to business,”’ suggested Webster. “I don’t see that you have anything here but your stock and fixtures and lease. How much do you want for them?” Jarvis took a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket. “T’ve got eight hundred dollars’ worth of stock that I'll sell for five; the fixtures cost me four, and I’ll let them go for two; the lease amounts to one hundred a year. Five and two and three is one thousand.” *‘One thousand,” nodded Webster. ‘‘How much more money would it take to stock the store properly?” “Of course there’s no limit,”” answered Jarvis; ‘“‘but if you had two thousand to put in you could have everything first class.”’ “Then this calls for an investment of three thousand?” “Round that.” “And what would you call a fair return?” “There’s no limit to that either. It all depends upon how fast you turn your money. You can net from six to eight per cent on most things. Do that six or seven times a year and you’ve made from forty to fifty per cent on your money. That’s the whole trick—turning your money. And that depends on your prices and on you.” “The prices and you?” repeated Web- ster. ‘Stedman inter- fered with your prices, you say; but what about yourself?” “Me?” questioned Jarvis. “rou.” Jarvis glanced up at Webster and then round the empty store, then out the door and then back to Webster. He acted like a man hesitating over an un- pleasant confession. When he finally spoke it was with a note of pathos. “I know the business end,” he answered slowly. ‘‘And I’ve allers been fair and square. But somehow people never seemed to keer about me pussonally. An’ thet’s hurt trade.” Making allowance for a full measure of charity Webster thought that was easily understood. Jarvis personally was no more attractive than his store, and for much the same reason. He was untidy and unkempt and slack. And yet even in these few minutes Webster had glimpsed some- thing below those details that appealed to him. He liked the man’s grasp of fundamentals and his ability to recog- nize his own weakness. ” (Continued on Page 32) cll ai eas ead iv i

Page 33

ES = — THE SATURDAY ~ United States Tires are Good Tires EVENING POST 31 A Tire Service that Covers the Map No matter where you drive, you are seldom—if ever—out- side our range of service. And wherever you happen to be, you can depend on our Sales and Service Depot Dealer. He knows tires as a sailor knows his compass. Moreover, he has entered into an agreement with us to serve you in many important ways—to do it to the best of his ability. He will test the air pressure in your tires, furnish air when you need it, see that your wheels are properly aligned, and in many other ways make his experience valuable to you. If you need new tires he will give you straightforward, honest advice as to the best United States Tires for your individual use. This takes into consideration your car and the roads you travel. He is in a position to be unbiased in this matter. For the line of United States Tires, which he carries, includes tires built to meet —and meet to a nicety—any possible need for tires. There are five distinct types for passenger and light delivery cars as well as both pneumatic and solid tires for trucks. Among them you will find just the ones you need. There are many thousands of United States Sales and Service Depot Dealers throughout the country. The nearest one will gladly aid you in selecting the proper tires for your own indi- vidual use. Royal Cord Nobby ‘Chain ‘lUsco’ Plain’

Page 34

(Continued from Page 30 Jarvis,” he said, “I have a notion you and I might be able to pull together. You know this busine and | don't On the other hand, | have a scheme or two mind for getting trade Supposing | car raise er igh money to put thi tore or feet, would you be willing to come in wit! rie Wit ( . a med Jar We dor KT ery much atx fac! other o be ire and, of course int l get the mone the whole proposition 1 if nm the But if you want to remove that ign in the dow am itatew da vl l t en end of the chance.” Yi th me?” Wi not It would be a ort of quee omit i tio ouldn t it this miled Webst« ) Lord! Itai hat | t} ol It rie Lan at me! I'n oking at ul Ja vianced up to se He aw t erect woth-faced young minister stand ng bet e him as man before mar Hetriel to straighten | own round shoulders a bit and ‘ 1 the earine vanished from his eye Then he turned and, with a emit « of briskness, walked across the tore Ook ¢ vn the For Sale sigr “I re I'd better clean them winders inthe morning he 1d as he came bach ait rRiiky agreemer Webster drew ip with | Jarvi va n effect an equal partner hip Jar to contribute the present stocl and fixtures of the store, with his service and Webster to put in two thousand dollar of new ipital borrowed on a note trom an uncle Jarvis was to be allowed to draw fifteen dollars a week against his half share of possible profits and leave the direct man agen t of the busine to Webster. It wa lar igvestion that the gn over the door hould be changed to read amuel Webster & ¢ npar Nothing e starti fresh a ound! he aff ee | i moment Webster hesitated over that i 1 ther ishamed of his hesita ‘ he nite Chere was no reason why he hould me rt tinthe open. His name wi lisplayve nodest gilt letters on the ehuret ! though te trangers it might Appear it he tart to find the ame name ‘ i we grocet tore, he iW ne ground for objectior lle meant omake if ime stand tor the same pr byrie tv tructure i " ilter? y cleaned bot! nal i he hone like plate gla found that th nad let > muel nt that he wa left thr titernative but to veep the wi ‘ { t That i i wd tv nning but from Webster point of ew it " onl 1 beginning larvi he said ir rst »b is to make tl tore a patie i hurce} I beheve the womer a l like that If they don't it w be a good object lessor anvhow On the opening day two week late Webster ranged | ehurch work so that he could put all his time into the renovated tore Hle was needed there From seven o'clock in the morning until six that night both he and Jarvis had all they could at tend to There wa ircely a person who went downtown who did not drop in for some sort of a purchase no matter how mall Mr Ssimmor topped there and purchased of Webster personally a pound of prune Perhap he owed the senti ment of a good mat wher rhe ud 1 declare! | didn’t need the prune more n a cat eed ‘ tail but it is worth the price just to see a parson a-doin’ of ‘em up But if she expected to find the parson flabbergasted she vas doomed to disap pointment In | mmaculate white coat he stood behind the counter with quite as professional an air as Jarvis. He greeted everyone with a smile and everyone fhe knew by name. When he did not recognize a man or woman he made it a point to in quire who they were. After filling the order he repeated the name as though he had known it all his life as in the case of Mr SImmons I hope to see you again, Mrs. Simmons.” That good lady, who belonged to the Methodist Chur and who, if the truth were known, had anticipated a certain ma lign+ pleasure in the pastor of an other faith placed in this humble seeing position, actually blushed and, in her confusion, went on and ordered five pounds of sugar to go with the prunes. He handed her that with the question “Anything more, Mrs. Simmons? Only the fact that she was pressed aside by another eager customer saved her from ordering still more. & Nor was her experience in any wa) ar In the numerous conferences vere held in the « ntroductory que to the not pecul that ourse of the day after the ‘Have you t ina? been up store? tl verdict tnat t was most attractive, but that the parson himself doing himself proud. Even Jarvis came in for an approval that was not wholly in the nature of reflected glory. Clean-shaved and alert, he was like another man The busine held this and into the second wi filled Webster with unbounded enthusiasn Several times it had been necessary to orcer by wire a replenishment of certain articles. Figured roughly, he was dding a that promised at the rate of ten thousa dollars, net profit, a year. This would leave as hi hare, five thousand — more three times over than he had raised by bey ging since he accepted his call! If this kept to feel warranted in actvally new ImMous store itself wa onl Vas week that during first h a consistence bus Iness money up he ought beginning building operations on the club house within six months “If this keeps up!" Jarvis nodded it arning ‘You old pessimist! laughed Webster We'll keep it up. That's all there is to it.” ‘Lord knows it suits 1 returned Jar ‘But we ain't heard from Stedmar vet 99 With ever moment occult Webster had almost forgotten not or Stedman but also his daughter It was in the next issue of the Lancashire Herald that Stedman,openly declared war, though on the irface there was nothing to how it He merely published a list of taples with price quotations for the week hey ran from two to five cents a pound below the selling price of Samuel Webster & Company. By that much they also ra below what any retailer could sell for and make an honest profit. Stedman was sa rificing his profit to an end He's off !"’ was Jarvis’ curt comme Webster scanned the list How long cat ne Keep that ip?’ ne ce manded i myer! you and ‘ 1 if ome that,”’ replied Jarvi a brief re rn ¢ ni worried lool I know: but it isn't | ri It’ Stedimar Webster frowned **] don't like tl ort of thing ed ired It isn’t fair to anyone. It } him, it hurt is and it hur the ! munit ‘It legal enough if i meat answered Jar\ Oh, I now that but if peopl ce tood Hle paused and thought a moment Do you know, Jarvi 1 believe if people themselves understood what he p to they wouldn't atand for it!” ‘You mean they wouldn't trade wit! him?” They wouldn't leave us.” * Thev'll trade where they can | v cheap est,” affirmed Jarvi Phat’s all they care about it ‘I don’t bel Cony ti fair eve that,”” returned Webster “They expect a pront. They with make a should.” “What did they do to me?” man to are willing he “Well, prices weren't the only issue in your case, We have a first-class store here now and we're selling first-class goods. People appreciate that sort of thing. We played fair and I'm going one step farther and let them know just what we're making.” “Eh?” gasped Jarvis. “Next week I’m going to publish the wholesale and retail prices of that same list ve of goods Stedman is offering, so that they can judge for themselves.” “Good Lord!” exploded Jarvis That's like turning over our books to them.” “Why not? be a lhere’s nothing in the books of. It will people a o figure out just Stedman's motive is.”’ “What in thunder do they care?” re peated Jarvis skeptically. “All they see is that they can go down there and buy cheaper than they can buy here.” Certainly that week the sales fell off rap- idly. Everyone's curiosity had by this time to amed chance t give what THE SATURDAY EVENING POST been pretty well satisfied; and, though the leanliness of the store held a few who could afford to indulge themselves in this luxury, the stream of trade moved steadily past the door of Samuel Webster & Company, and down the hill to Stedman’s. In the next issue of the Herald Webster kept his prom- ise and made the following announcement: “TO THE PUBLIC “We opened our new store for the purpose of making a fair profit, but no more than a fair profit. In order that every cus- tomer may judge for himself whether we are asking higher prices than should reason- ably be expected, we are publishing the wholesale cost of all our goods in a column parallel to our retail price Out of the dif- ference come our overhead charges.” nave Then followed a list of the goods adver- tised the previous week by Stedman, with the two columns side by side. Webster honestly expected results from this policy. It was the sort of thing that would have appealed strongly to him, had he been a purchaser. In the same paper Stedman repeated his advertisement of the previous week, without comment of any kind. It promised to be a fair test. If that was true, it turned out to be all in Stedman’s favor. The sales of Samuel Web- ster & Company fell off a little more, if any- thing. Jarvis apparently was right. At the end of the second month Webster was forced to admit this and a good deal more. It was absurd for him to try to meet Stedman’s prices. The fight would then resolve itself of attrition, and Webster's capital certainly did not warrant an under ny of that sort. At the of a Friday night service Dorothy moments for the quite obvious purpose of talking with him. As long a decently could he avoided would go on. In present mood he did not wish to see her. into merely one lingered a few he her, in the hope that she his He a} a rie watched her as in her gracious, cordial the small talk, which trailed away to nothing in the social half uur that always followed these meetings. in just this way she turned to him. all agreed you had a very good .’ she said. ‘They mean by that they were enter- joined in tained,”” he replied cynically. I don’t think so,”’ she answered with a rried look. “‘ Perhaps you're a bit tired.” He would not admit this, though it was a fact. With a trace of excitement she went her mind ngs aren't going Jarvis.” ith a trace of his »> the subject uppermost in I gather from dad thi ery well with you and ‘Well?” he swered ar ked his business over with me she hastened to assure him. “If he ad I—I couldn't discuss it with you. But he’s been unusually chipper for him; so I know his plans must be working well.”’ Webster scowled “He's been cutting into our trade,” ad itted Webster. “You know how She nodded ‘And he'll keep on doing that. He'll do nore if it’s necessary.” ‘It isn’t fair business Webster protested, “He'll bankrupt “I’m not stubbornly “It’s only a question of time, isn’t it if you go on this way?” “Are you advising me to quit?” claimed. She flushed at that. **No,”’ she answered: “but you've got to do something. You can’t just stand stili in the Lion’s Den.” “I didn’t think the village would back up the old lion as they have.” “They will—as long as they see only prices. I that sort of thing,” until you're doing it keep oO) I warned you bankrupt yet,” he returned he ex- Oh, I know them! I was born and vrought up here.” Her eyes were alert. She was not sym- pathizing with him. She was not trying to discourage him. It almost seemed as though she was trying to advise him. “They see you only as a grocer,” she ran on. “And they don’t quite approve of that. They don’t understand what you are trying todo. If that was all you were I shouldn't approve, myself. And I shouldn't care. It seems, even to me, as though you had for- gotten about the Boys’ Club.”” “Forgotten?” **Because you haven't used them.” “I don’t understand,” he answered rankly. January 25, 19/9 Eagerly she went on: *““What you’ve got to do is to get the vil- lagers with you—so much with you they won't think about the cut prices. And I I've thought out a plan.” “*But, good Lord!”’ he broke in. “ Your father x “It’s as much for him as for the Boys’ Club,” she interrupted excitedly. “It would do dad good to be beaten for once in his life—in a good cause. He has been growing selfish; but way down deep in him there's a lot of good that no one sees—not even you.” “That isn’t quite fair,” he protested. “Oh, you try to see and try to believe; but you don’t. How can you?” “There’s you!”’ he answered impulsively. ‘You're proof that there’s a lot of good in him.” She shook her head. “T’ve been selfish too. And I guess I’m the cause of most of his selfishness. It’s for me he’s been working hard to make a lot of money.” This was amazing talk, but there was no doubt that it was honest talk. In these last few months she had been working out a good many things for herself. And it made her adorable. Webster felt once again the old temptation to ignore the subject mat- ter altogether and concentrate on her alone But she was too much in earnest now to make that possible. Curiously enough, however, it sent his thoughts back to Sted- man. He felt in spite of her arguments as though he were taking an unfair advantage of the man. “*I’m not sure I ought to listen,” clared. She raised her head at that ‘It’s for father’s sake I am saying these things,”’ she reminded him “And the Boys’ Club?” She smiled at that. “I’m still selfish enough to place that second,”’ she went on. “But in the end maybe they'll stand side by side. You see, what I want you to do is to go to the boys and tell them just what you’re about. I'd call a meeting and get them all together Then I'd tell them that you’re not in busi ness for yourself, but for them. Let them know that all the money you make is going into the clubhouse. Tell them they must be partners in the business. Let them see that the more you make the sooner they will have their clubhouse. Don’t you under- stand what would follow? You'd have a selling agent in every family in town con- taining a boy.” Webster caught his breath. The scheme was sound. It was more than that; it was mply overwhelming in its possibilities. It would accomplish all she said and a hun- dredfold more *You—you brick!” he exclaimed. She blushed to the roots of her hair. “It will do dad good,” she whispered, as though for some reason it was necessary to emphasize once more her motive. ‘It will do everyone good!” he burst out. “It will do the boys good; it will do the town good; it will do us all good.” “Then you don’t think I’m intruding?” “T ought to make you a partner for that suggestion,” he declared. “I ought to tell the boys and a “*Hush!”’ she warned. a living soul.”’ She started toward the door to make her escape. Webster followed—into the Lion's Den once more. She appeared startled at what she saw in his eyes. With a little laugh she turned and ran out of doors That was a curious thing to do if it was true that she was playing the part of the lioness “Good night!’’ she said as she hurried away. The Reverend Sam Webster had all he could do not to follow. he de- You mustn’t tell Vv ARVIS was discouraged. Once again he was finding himself with long intervals of spare time on his hands. Moreover, he was disappointed in his partner. Jarvis was not a religious man; but, like a good many other men who are not, this fact only increased his superstitious belief in the miraculous power of religion. He did not have much faith in the ability of the church to be of service in everyday affairs; but when the need arose for the employment of a supernatural agency, then it was the church or nothing. And it was becoming clearer every day that if the business was to be saved from bankruptcy it was high time that Webster began to exert himself in (Continued on Page 35)

Page 35

4\

THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 33 8 Bodoni THE NATIONS MILK The Pioneer iy 1885 ( ~ Gail Borden was the Father of Pure Milk His life-work was to secure pure milk, preserve it in all its purity, and have it reach you in the same pure state This was a large conception—nothing less than the nation-wide distribution of milk of guaranteed purity. But this is the thought and guarantee that is today back of every milk product which carries the name of Borden’s. There is a Borden Milk Product for every use. BORDEN’S Ce MILK COMP ANY Borden Building New Yorl DBordens

Bordeni

are see 8 a! a= Y ( = ' * \\ "ys h. —N yy wi FF Sy 4 ‘\ * \

at ©)\ STE riciged™.\ a MIE Cit their y ben oe Pursenven MILK wil ee, seated, and for ston, Pegs SP Pition, each label will Gout sr ms c< CONDENSED mn

EAGLE BRAND Evaporated Milk MALTED MILK

Page 36

THE SATURDAY EVENING POST January 25,1919 ~~ re OU Wee Man's Power is determined by tools and methods. Steam, electricity, gasoline and high explosives all contribute to multiply his strength. ‘Tasks that formerly re- quired months are now completed in days. In mining, in quarrying, in road construction, in excavating, in farming operations and in many other forms of labor, man’s power is vastly increased by the aid of Atlas Explosives. ‘Engineets and others confronted*wath blast ling problems are invited to avail thenagelves of our Service Division's wide experience. ‘Men of long training will freely aid you ims selecting the right explosive for your particu lar purpose and will help you to get the mo leficient and most economical results. |. “ "ae Address our home office or the nearest‘6f our branch offices. ATLAS POWDER CO., Wilmington, D Sales Offices: Allentown, Pa.; Birmingham, Ala., Berton, Chicago, Des Moines, Ia. Moughton, Mich; Joplin, Mo.; Kaneas City, Knoxvilleg# McAlester, Okla.; Memphis, Nashville, New Orleans, New Vorteg] Pbiiadewhta, Piteburg, Kane Pittsburgh, Pa Pottsville, Pe. ’ 1 ours, Wilkes-Barre ”

Page 37

wens ee Continued from Page 32 his clerical capacity and invoke the help with which he was supposed to be in close alliance. Instead of that, Webster appeared, dur- ing the next week, to be growing distinctly indifferent to the affairs of the company. He did not come into the store for more than an hour a day; and then, when Jarvis tried to call his attention to the dwindling Webster scarcely listened, and ram- bled off about some new project he had for establishing in town a Boys’ Club. “T’ll have to leave things here to you for a while,” he said, quite as good-naturedly as though everything were going along smoothly. “It isn’t as though there was more than one man could do,” retorted Jarvis. “That's fine!”’ said Webster. “It will leave me free.”’ “Sure it will!’ nodded Jarvis. that ain’t my idea of good business. “Just you sit tight!’ Webster answered mysteriously. “That's about all I’ve been doin’ since I came to town,” returned Jarvis in a grouchy tone, But Webster did not have the time to lis- ten to his complaints. He was all over town, holding conferences with certain of the older boys, who, in their turn, hurried off and held conferences with their own par- ticular cronies. Meantime he had made arrangements with the moving-picture house to let him have the hall for Thursday night and run a pecial set of pictures he had wired to New York to get— a series covering Y. M. C. A. activities. ‘Then he had posters printed and distributed all over town, They read: “BOYS! sales, “But “Thursday night is going to be a big night for you! Come to the Casino for a free how and listen to a business proposition that will interest you all. For tickets ap- ply to Reverend Sam Webster at the store of Samuel Webster & Company.” On the day following the appearance of these posters Jarvis had no complaint to make about not being busy. It seemed as though all the boys in town swarmed in there like rats to ask for tickets. Webster was there part of the time, but the burden of the distribution fell on Jarvis. And he was hanged if he could see where the profit in that deal came in! The tickets were actually given away without any strings whatever attached. “If you had only given them with the purchase of a pound of tea!” sugge sted pad is. “Just you sit tight!’’ repeated Webster. “But you'd better save one of those tickets for yourself. You'll hear something inter- esting.” “I’ve seen all I wanter see of boys for a hundred years,” growled Jarvis. ‘They darned near wrecked the place!” On Thursday evening the Casino was packed five minutes after the doors were open. Jarvis, whose curiosity got the better of his aversion, arrived half an hour later and had to stand up in the rear. He did not know there were so many boys in the world. They reached from the front seats to the exits—a squirming, noisy, catcalling mass of boisterous humanity that half frightened him. In every gathering at which he had ever been present before the adults had been in a safe majority; but here he was the only man of age present, except Web- ster, who was in the thick of the mob, with his face wreathed in smiles. Apparently he liked it. He grinned even while he quashed several incipient riots starting from free fights. Jarvis saw him spring over two settees once and throw himself into the middle of a mélée at the risk of his life only to emerge triumphant from a maelstrom of arms and legs, with a boy in each hand. He dragged them half the length of the hall; but, instead of ejecting them, he placed them in a corner and sat down be- side them until they cooled off. Pretty soon he was in the midst of another scrim- mage, waving to Jarvis as he flew by. In that wild quarter of an hour Webster upset several of Jarvis’ conceptions of proper ministerial conduct, both as a peace- ee and a leader of a meeting. In the next hour Webster upset’several other well- established conceptions. The pictures made a great hit with the boys; and as soon as they were concluded Webster took the center of the stage. The revelations he made in his speech were undoubtedly more amazing to Jarvis than to the boys. THE SATURDAY “*Fellows,”’ he said, “I’ve told a lot of you what I want to do—to build here in town a clubhouse as near like those you've seen on the screen as we can affor My first plan was to go it alone and raise the money round the village to do it with. But that wasn’t easy. I talked with some of the older business men and found it was going to be a long, hard job. “Then I thought of another scheme—to go it alone and earn the money for you. That’s why I bought the store up on the hill. For a little while it looked as though that scheme was going to pan out all right. For a few weeks we did a good business; and then business began to fall off. It has fallen off badly. It has reached a point now where we've either got to quit or put new life into it. So I’ve come to you. “I’m going to put the proposition to You simply and frankly. I went into partner- ship with Mr. Jarvis. He furnished the stock on hand and fixtures and his experience as his share, and I borrowed enough money to fix the place up and put in new stock as my share. The agreement is that he is to have half of the profits and I am to have the other half. But my half is not for me personally. Every cent of that after I’ve paid back my borrowed money will go into the new clubhouse until that is built and firmly established. After that my profits will go into whatever other useful things are needed about town. “Now if you want to come in with me we'll be partners. I'll chip in my share of the investment in the store and you can chip in your services. Each one of you can take the orders of his own family every day and for as many other families where there are no boys as he can find. Then you can deliver the orders. We've been running on a cash basis—everything paid for as bought. It seems to me best to continue that. It cuts down expenses and we can sell that much cheaper. But it will increase our business a lot if we can deliver our goods; and with every boy helping that ought to be easy. “There is one thing more: If you go into this with me I want it undertaken on a strictly business basis. I don’t want any begging. I want you to feel like real busi- ness men. We’ll furnish only the best goods and we'll furnish them at the lowest price we can and make a fair profit. If there are lower prices in town it will be because the man who makes them is selling without profit for the purpose of putting us out. But if we all stick together we'll win. We can’t help it! And winning means that clubhouse for you—a clubhouse that will mean not only more fun in your lives but a great many other things besides. Are you with me? Those in favor say Aye!” At the explosion that followed Jarvis turned toward the door. It hardly seemed safe here. “Contrary minded say No!” called Webster as soon as the noise had subsided. A dead silence. “The Ayes seem to have it,” he smiled. “Now get busy—beginning to-morrow morning.” Jarvis managed to escape the rush for the exit, but it was only because he was within three jumps of it. GC JING to the grocery store at the begin- ning of the day had never been a par- ticularly popular sport with the boys of Lancashire. There were always too many other more important matters in hand. The usual policy of the average youth was to make himself as scarce as possible imme- diately after breakfast and not turn up again until starved into it toward noon. Experience had taught them that one thing followed another, and that any boy who remained in sight ran the imminent danger of finding himself involved in all manner of household chores. A whole fore- noon might be spoiled in this way. But on this particular Friday several hundred boys took the trouble to ask their mothers whether there wasn’t some- thing they needed at the store. That was before the news of what had taken place on the night before had fully seeped into the parental consciousness. In most cases this eagerness to run an errand was considered ominous. Many an anxious parent followed the query by demanding a sight of the tongue of the interrogator, the theory being that any boy who evinced a desire to work was revealing those saintly qualities which were commonly supposed to be in evidence only immediately preceding his demise. In those cases where something really was needed the boy collected the money to EVENING POST pay for it and was off like a shot. Where nothing was needed he exacted a promise to have the order held for him. The question of cash involved some ex- planations. In most families paying in this way for groceries was an innovation, and not altogether a welcome one. But a boy, where his interests are at stake, is a mighty hard thing to resist. Besides, the funda mental idea of a clubhouse appealed to most of the parents. No one knew better than they that the town was in need of this very thing. And, on the whole, no easier means than this for paying for it had ever been de vised. Most such projects called for a cash contribution from every household, but by this system they could pay without feel ing it. Tostrengthen these ideas Webster began a campaign of education. He prepared slips, which he had printed and inclosed with every delivery of goods. Some of these gave statistics about the value of clubhouses for boys, and some of them were just descriptive paragraphs about the pro- posed house and its benefits. For instance: “If your boy is going to play pool, wouldn't you rather he should play it with boys of his own age in clean surroundings instead of in the rear of a fruit store with a riffraff of older men? Again: “A clean boy is a better boy. We are going to have shower baths!”’ Again: “Your boy is beginning his business career at thismoment. When we get the clubhouse we're going to have men who know tell him things he ought to know so that he jcan keep up his business education! Sometimes his inclosures were on other subjects, like this: “‘A man who pays cash is never in debt!’’ and “* Don’t forget that you get as much benefit from cash pay- ments as we do. It isac odperative pli an! ‘ and “ Pay as you goand you'll go farther!” But, even before this began to take ef- fect, trade jumped by leaps and bounds. That first Friday and Saturday both Jarvis and Webster found themselves once more in the inspiring position of having all they could do. And that continued all through the next week and doubled in the second week, so that it became necessary to employ several of the older boys to help behind the counter, Moreover, the class of trade he was get ting now was sound trade. These people were not buying extras, but what they ac tually needed in their housekeeping. It was the sort of trade that promised to go on year after year. In the month of July sales reached a vol- ume amounting to nearly one thousand dollars, and in August they climbed to thirteen hundred. It became necessary to enlarge the store and to employ regularly four boys. At the beginning of the new campaign Stedman had smiled and continued his cut prices. He thought he knew his people. This enthusiasm might last a week or two, but in the end they would refuse to spend nickels where it was possible to save them. He pared his prices a little lower and confi- dently waited, though he was forced to see one customer after another desert him, By the first of August this began to look serious. These boys—darn their hides! were keeping up their obnoxious interfer ence with the legitimate course of business It was well enough for them to have their innocent fling under the parson’s guidance, but when it came to carrying it on week after week they were going too far. And yet when he began to suggest to some of the parents that this kind of fooling ought to stop he found himself unable to make any impression whatever upon them. Most of them refused to see any harrn in it whatever—even went so far as to indorse it. Others just answered: “Guess you'll have to see the boys them- selves, Mr. Stedman.” Stedman took up the matter in all seri- ousness with others of the leading business men in town and suggested some sort of concerted action. “It’s a pretty state of things when a gang of boyscan threaten aman’s business!" he growled. He did not receive much encouragement, however, from anyone. As a matter of fact, there were several who were watching the progress of this novel business venture on the part of the parson with some personal discomfiture. There was no telling when he might decide to begin selling hardware or clothing or boots and shoes. If ever he did, with that crowd back of him It may be there was no connection what- ever between this line of reasoning and the w an fact that several of these men made them- selves somewhat conspic uous by attending Sunday services at Webster’s church, but it is certain that, to the latter’s surprise, he found his vacant pews beginning to fill up. It was at about this time that an agita tion started from some mysterious source looking toward the resignation of the Rey erend Sam Webster. The movement gath ered in strength until it caused so much gossip that it finally reached Webster's ears. He was amazed. The church had never boasted so large an attendance and the newcomers were just the class worth while reaching. Under this inspiration he was preaching the best sermons of his life. They were based upon his new experiences —upon the deeper un derstanding of human nature he was gain- ing daily from his boys. He knew he was getting home to these people as he never had before. They were listening with their hearts now and not merely with their heads Then, too, he was able to speak with a certain sturdy independence born of the fact that he was fast making himself free of any financial entanglements with his con- gregation. He could look them in the eye without any lurking suggestion of a coming request for money. He had a notion that this, too, left his congregation freer to listen They could safely lower their guard. This better work was not taking into consideration at all the good he was ac complishing among the boys outside. That in itself justified his presence in town. If he never ‘preached another sermon he would still be fulfilling his mission. Webster tried to trace the source of the agitation, but, beyond placing it among the older members of the parish, he made littl headway until he sought out Dorothy. It was no easy matter to catch her, however For a week she escaped him, until he wa finally forced to write and ask her at the close of the next Friday evening service Then she waited for him, but with a curi ously reluctant, half-shamed expression “I’m sorry to trouble you,” he said as they finally stood alone; “‘but I thought you could help me.” She did not answer, but lowered her eyes. ‘It’s about this gossip of my resigning I can’t find out where it comes from or how sincere it is. Of course if it’s genuine why, there isn’t anything left for me except to tender my resignation. But I'd hate to have to drop things now.” “You to gee “Oh, you won't!” she cried. mustn't think of that.” “If it had come six months ago,”’ he went on with a puzzled expression, “I shouldn't have wondered. But I've just got to going. I’m really getting results now. Yet there must be something back of this talk.’ Her cheeks turned scarlet. “And you haven't been able to guess?” “I suppose my outside work seems a lit- tle radical to some; but i She looked up at that. And then her honest eyes told him the truth, though at the cost of her pride. They told him the sorry truth that shamed her before him. “Your father!’’ he exclaimed Almost imperceptibly she nodded, “Good Lord!” he cried. ‘ He's carried his fight that far?” “Yes,” she admitted in a trembling voice. “But please don’t be too hard on him. You see, his business Oh, you don’t know how successful you've been! He thinks he sees ruin ahead. And it isn’t the money alone it’s his pride that’s hurt.’ **Dorothy!”’ Webster broke in. ** Please listen to me a moment. I scolded him—for this. I was ashamed of him, and told him so. It wasn’t fair of him. It wasn’t henorable. I told him that too. And he told me how one after another of his cld customers had left him until he saw himself forced either to go out of business or to go on facing a daily loss. It had made him desperate. I—I don’t think he knew what he was doing. All he thought of was getting you out of town. He thought if you left, all would be well again. And—and he even said he meant to take up your work and go on with the Boys’ Club.” “He said that!’ exclaimed Webster. ‘‘And meant it!” she went on. “‘ This has made him see that, after all, his interests are bound up with those of other people He’s been like a little king, and this has made him understand that he’s living in a republic. Only I—I don’t want him to be quite crushed.”’ She looked up at*him with something like a plea for mercy. “‘T didn’t realize matters had gone as far as that!” exclaimed Webster. ‘‘ Perhaps (Concluded on Page 37)

Page 38

THE SATURDAY EVENING POST

Selit, REDH? BARE nO F. a . eroapenmnemnennes Se RRR RRO SAT SORE OARS RO TE eon Sia Sao PRO a be ee Designed solely from the demand-point of a vehicle to be hauled behind a high-speed motor truck. rhe embodiment of the highest engineering skill in construction the equal of the best truck made The result of five years’ experience in actual opera tion in practically every line of business behind every good make of truck —all over this and many foreign countries. And back of it all, the experience in the building of high-grade road vehicles of more than thirty years. The above illustration shows a 5-ton Troy Trailer carrying full capacity of Goodyear products (and a truck built especially for hauling), on

January 25,1919

Ai alters , Bray] MTT iy 4 ULL Hill Lil ic eee =— BERR BE Re PS a recent 1440-mile trip from Akron to Boston and back— up and down some grades of 18%—up some steady 5-mile climbs over the summits of the Alle- gheny Mountains. This is not a remarkable per- formance, in so far as the Troy Trailer is concerned. It is the same staunchness and flexibility of Troy Trailers that has made them such dependable and profitable units of transportation under everyday conditions, with the average truck. Under average conditions a Troy Trailer will at least double the hauling capacity of any good make of truck, and cut hauling costs in half.

The Troy Wagon Works Co. Troy, Ohio

ea. ee “were” oath BESE ead highest point on route over Allegheny Mts, if as eras m « le climb to summit of “Grand View HiT

Page 39

(Concluded from Page 35) I’ve been selfish. Why, there’s room for both of us! It’s been hard for me to take care of all the business in the last few weeks. I wish I could have a talk with him.” “Oh, would you?” “Tf he'll let me. We might—why, we might fix up some sort of partnership!” “With dad?” At her eagerness his heart grew aflame. More and more during the last few months he had realized that this was the time for everyone to pull together. From now on it would be so easy if everyone did his bit. But her bit—he needed that for himself. He stepped nearer to her. “With dad—and you,” he said. ‘‘ You’ve been back of me all this while and now I want you beside me. I’ve loved you a long, long time.” “You've loved —me?” she gasped. “Ever since your eyes looked up at me from the middle of the church,” he an- swered. “I loved you even when I was half afraid of you.’ Very gently he took her hand. “Why!” she cried. “It’s I who have been afraid.” “Of what?” he asked in amazement. She dropped her eyes “Of you,” she whispered—‘‘and the Lion’s Den. Oh, I was afraid of the Lion's Den!” With a joyful laugh, he took her in his arms. Then he lifted his head in challenge of the empty pews surrounding them “Where are the lions?’ he demanded. She followed his eye “They are all gone,”’ she answered. “Except dad,”’ he ventured. “And he—why, he’s only a lamb now.’ “Then ” he said, with his heart pounding. That was all he said; but ministers are human—or ought to be. And if for the moment he found that word , however elo quent, were inadequate to express his heart overflowing with love —why, there are other ways. vi T MIGHT be true, as Dorothy had claimed, that Stedman had been meta- morphosed from a lion to a lamb since Web- ster last saw him; but when the young man stepped into his den he was not able to de- tect any evidence of this, either in Sted man’s speech or manner Curiously enough, Webster was glad of this. It was with a sense of relief that he found the same old Stedman confronting him. Webster never approved of the kind of reformation that takes all the spine out of a man. Stedman faced Webster aggressively as the latter stepped forward with outstretched hand “Good evening, sir,’ said Webster def- erentially Stedman hesitated a moment and sought the minister’s eyes. They met his fairly and without a trace of anything calling for re sentment. Stedman grasped the firm hand a second and said “Sit down.” Then he reached for a cigar and waited ““Mr. Stedman,” began Webster with a smile, “I thought [’d got all through coming to you for assistance; but that’s be- cause I was a bit narrow-minded and self- centered. I don’t believe any of us can go it alone. We're all more or less dependent upon each other any way we turn, aren’t we?” “You mean me?” demanded Stedman. — THE SATURDAY “No more than myself,” replied Web- ster. “‘And no more than the rest of the village. I know how it’s been in my church work; I got the notion that my church was mine personally. Instead of working with my parish, I wanted to work for it. I as- sumed all the responsibility, as though it were made up of children. I—I rather ig nored their wishes like an arrogant father The result was that what I was able to do by myself was done; but when I called for help it wasn’t forthcoming. Perhaps if I hadn't been quite so aggressive with you a “T was wrong,” blurted out Stedman. “No more wrong than I was,’’ answered Webster. ‘“‘We were both wrong. And | was wrong again when I decided to go into business by myself. Why, at the very start I had to go out and borrow money; had to pledge my future to get it! And yet even then I didn’t see my obligation. I still thought I was going it alone. Then I made a partnership with Jarvis; but I still thought I was keeping myself absolutely independ ent. I tried to do business that way, and failed.” “Eh?” queried Stedman, looking up. “Right!”’ nodded Webster. ‘I couldn't buck against your prices by myself. The villagers weren't with me. It wasn’t until I gained their coéperation that I made a success of it. I did that through the boys Nothing could stand against them, because they were not working as individuals, but as a body. And they brought their parents in as a body, because it was not for self interest but the common interest. Don't you see?” “T see it worked all right, Stedman grimly. oe CN admitted Webster; ‘it couldn't help working. But now the proposition has become so big that — well, I’m here to see if you won't come in with us.” “Me?” “Why not? We need you.” How do you need me?” It was a confession that took courage to make, and Webster's heart went out to him. ““We—myself and the boys—need you badly,”’ ran on Webster. ‘One store can’t take care of all the business of this town. It would be a waste of money for me to go on and duplicate your facilities by increas- ing my own; and in the end the town would have to pay for that waste. Why can’t we combine—you to handle the lower end of the town and I the upper?” *“Why should you do that?” “T want you with us. You're important to the boys You're important to the church. But most of all you're important to me.” Stedman met the young man’s eyes again “To you?” “To me and Dorothy. I’ve asked her to marry me, She's outside, waiting for me to tell you.” Webster placed his hand on the older man’s shoulder ‘**Don’t you see how very important you are?” he asked. “If we three can keep to gether. why, we ‘ The door flew open and Dorothy came running in. She crossed the room swiftly to her father’s side. She threw her arms round his neck and kissed his lips. “It’s all settled, dad—isn’t it?”’ she whispe red, Then she turned to Webster, without waiting for a reply. Everything is all settled, Sam!”’ she in formed him. “And please, after this, al- ways let me manage dad.” ” responded EVENING POST Takhoma Biscuit The only soda cracker that breaks in the middle without Always snappy and fresh. Soda crackers so tasty, so crisp, o golden are their own evidence of goodness and quality Made at the Sunshine Bakeries where 450 kinds of cracket s, and cakes share the honors of highest quality Loose -Wites Biscuit (OMPany Baker f MNshing iscuits BRANCHES IN OVER 100 CITIES When You Build Don’t Pay for Waste EFORE making any plans get the new !919 RB DeLuxe Book of Sterling System Homes The Sterling System saves all the material and time that is ordinarily wasted by the old “I landsaw Method". No extras of any kind Your Sterling Home comes to you ready to put up on the foundation Sterling System Homes Designed by architects who know how to combine the utmost in convenience of arrange ment with modern design All parts cut to exactness in the great Sterling Mills. Ready to erect the day it arrives Sold to you direct by the men who own the very forests that produce the logs that are used Send for Our DeLuxe Book of Sterling System Homes Your home is shown. From the modest cottage or bungalow to the imposing mansion — all il lustrated in beautiful colors. The most elabo rately prepared book of its kind ever issued Every page brim full of valuable information. Send your name and |0c today for your copy International Mill and Timber Company Dept. 2381 Bay City. Michigan 37 i

Page 40

NE touch of Nature,” says the old epigram, () makes the whole world kin.” Homely old yings oftentimes carry a world of truth the wisdom of all the added , ane cel iries has failed to About the above-mentioned saying revolve the incidents that ry Iam about to set down. One touch of sympathy makes u And it is the great [ of our imperfect humanity that the vein touched, widens improve upon them make up the hist« weep together redeeming feature of sympathy whicl in us all, once it i neredibly to a rushing river of divine pity My amazing son was now nearing his first birthday. it will be recalled that I named him Epictetus, after the ancient philosopher, for whom I entertain an ardent admiration. Nor was my offspring misnamed; for truly the ancient philosopher aforementioned, could he have lived, overwhelmed with delighted astonishment uy iewing the accomplishments of my would have been gifted progeny These most varied. I have always maintained that the recital of the remarkable qualities appertaining to one’s first-born too frequently Nevertheless, Epictetus is so different from the ordinary child that I have felt it my clear duty to set forth the wonderful manifestations of his astounding precocity upon variou For the most part my have listened patiently. But there were times when I suspected that they failed to grasp the bigness of the rare phenomena of my son’s doings. Generally, too, they seemed relieved to change the subject upon the slight- est provocation and I marveled at the shallowness of their minds. However, they were my friends, and so I over- looked these lapses of the intellect and forbore a righteous indignation, only pitying them. For instance, Professor Chandler and his wife called on us one evening. Professor Chandler is Professor of Agri- culture in our university, and an estimable man. We had been conversing most agreeably, discussing, I think, the relation of plant evolution to the codrdinate development “Biology,” said the professor, “is in Science will soon show that it reaches out accomplishments are he« omes hboresome occasions, hearer of the human race its cradle yet beyond the merely organic and includes all material things rocks, metals ™ “Listen!” | whispered excitedly lor Epictetus had just made a remark! “What is it?” interested asked Professor Chandler, profoundly “Epictetus!” | whispered again him? There he has just said it again!’ **What was he saying?” inquired my friend *T did not gather it all,” I said, saying —something!” “Did you not hear “but he was certainly | heard it too,” said the professor doubtfully, ‘but | I thought he was—er— gagging!" I controlled myself with difficulty. The man was my ; guest ; ‘Pardonme!"’ [saidstiffly. uf “You were saying he great world war had ended. Came now the war —- Se ae ae ee THE SATURDAY EVENING POST By Lowell Otus Reese ILLUSTRATED Br mM. L. of human hearts— the struggle of a world’s sympathy against the wreck and ruin which the insanity of a misguided people 4%: had laid across the earth. In this war of pity I found myself strongly enlisted for under the rather formal exterior which I wear, an exterior which possibly has been made somewhat stiff and cold by reason of the dignity of my position in the university—under this outer seeming lies a rare sentimentality My sympathies are easily roused; and once roused there seems to be no limit to their scope. We were sitting in the nursery one evening when my wife made an ob- servation which moved me greatly and started a train of circumstances which culminated in the momentous affair of the Athletic Symposium. “The Pompeiian Club is planning a féte soon,” said my wife. ‘It is for the benefit of the Belgian babies.” “Most laudable!” Isaid. “I truly hope the affair will be successful.” “T have been thinking,” she continued presently, “what a terrible thing it would be if our little son Epictetus were a poor Belgian baby!” The hideous thought shocked me to the soul. “My love!” I exclaimed. ‘‘Why, merely to think such a thing is awful! I “‘But there were thousands of parents who loved their little Belgian babies,” continued my wife tremulously “‘And these thousands are dead. Killed brutally! And their little children are dying for—think of it!—a trifling thing like a bottle of milk! Poor little Belgian babies!" Her dear eyes were swimming in tears now. I was pro- foundly affected. “* Azalea,”’ I said, “‘I confess that you have shown me the matter in a new aspect. I, of course, have known all along that the Belgian infants were badly nourished, owing to a paucity of sustenance due to the ravages of war. But truly I never really understood before. “T never until now viewed the tragedy i Epictetus, as it were!” From that evening I was unhappy. had indeed made a deep impression upon my mind. Everywhere I went I nowsaw the ubiquitous milk bottles mute, sad, slitted at the top for the reception of copper coins; a crude but pathetic little verse printed upon them in terms of The conversation Drop a penny . We need many! In the restaurants, in the stores, at the railway sta- tions —everywhere I stumbled across them. Ultimately I acquired the habit of filling my pockets with pennies; and whenever I encountered a sad milk bottle I dropped a penny into it and tried to feel that I was feeding some poor starving little Belgian Epictetus. This comforted me some what until I recalled that a penny goes such a short way, especially in these latter days following the war. BLUMENTHAL It Was a Subject Near My Heart and i Spoke Eloquently. However, 1 Could See by Professor Kid's Expression That He Failed Utterty to Com prehend the Awfuiness of the Tragedy January 25,1919 FILES Then for my peace of mind I tried to avoid these pathetic little beggars, for what use to harrow my feelings? It was in vain. I still met them wherever I went. Worse still, the thoughts of them trooped through my mind when I sat in the nursery of evenings and adored Epictetus, my marvelous son. Frequently I even failed to hear when Epictetus addressed some re- mark to me; for some way I heard nstead: instead Drop a penny We need many! It was like the heartbreaking insistence of ghostly little voices calling across the sea. mu T WILL be recalled that nearly two years ago I was * grossly insulted in the presence of my dear wife; insulted by an uncouth brute of a man nearly twice my size. It will be further remembered that directly fol- lowing this unfortunate en- counter I visited the school of boxing conducted by Professor Kid Meloney, a retired profes- sional, and for six months la- bored assiduously under the strenuous but highly efficient tutelage of Professor Kid, learn- ing to box. Now there is a peculiar fas- cination about boxing. One who learns to do it well finds him- self longing to be at it constantly. %, Wherefore, ever since my graduation * from the school of boxing — which by the way occurred the evening im- mediately preceding the day when I met my insulter and knocked him into the gutter— Professor Kid and I had been spending three evenings of every week in my billiard room, which I had fitted up as a gymnasium, These evenings we spent in boxing and wrestling. As a consequence of this long season of training my muscles were like iron and my respiration beyond criti- cism. Professor Kid frequently went so far as to state positively that I was able to step into the ring at any time and stand the most gifted amateur upon his head. Therefore it will be perceived that I was not wholly lack- ing in the art. I did not desire to stand anyone upon his head, for I am a man of peace. Nevertheless, it warmed me to listen to my instructor’s encomiums; for a small man is too often mortified by the realization of his physical inferiority. ‘“‘Professor,”” my mentor would say, ‘‘ what a shame you ain’t fightin’ in the ring! To t’ink of a natural fighter like you—a man wit’ the most perfect muscular development I ever saw — teachin’ school!” Whereupon I would wax indignant and explain that I was Professor of Ancient Continued on Page 41) ““Geegtei’’ Res marked Epictetus, and Seized the Professor's Thumb

Page 41

Se te Se Se iJ ( t i (4 | ' | ! \ i ‘| y, | ' | 4 THE SATURDAY EVENING POST

~ _

SS) Cae BIS aii ies DS Ss =u at SEG}

Y ™ Ao ant

2 KS & eA VLY AS eS @ > SL. UW } Dl at

= = a e of, r Vv

“, 15 QDLpEI > fy AWA a > —=

IDS. CS Ay WIS Ss SD ISA LENS ih “ss mee LH GNA ys ie, SNE 53 t¢ _ _—ee ee ' “ness Sou “ - V i) , : . ; iY ry GREAT number of people have discovered a way of knowing a Ne) fine motion picture before seeing it! iy’ . , . ‘ NOS It’s like a conjuring trick, simple when you know how. Xj , ; aN) They have discovered that the greatest concern in the business, the ow QYS Famous Players-Lasky Corporation, makes the cream of all the different KVAI We8 types of pictures. WP ° VND , , Ob SS) that these are always advertised and listed under the names i WP Paramount or Artcraft. Vos) yy ‘| that they are the vehicles for the skill and genius of practically all the UNS foremost stars, directors, writers, photographers, painters, craftsmen, etc. (| —and that through the nation-wide distributing facilities of this great 7 +} organization, millions of people in over ten thousand theatres see Para- Dane mount and Artcraft Pictures. WIWA Pictures so marked, they have found, always take you out of yourself. Sa} ‘ CAF} “Paramount” and “Artcraft” are handy names to identify in two 05/2 huge groups, the best pictures made. Check it up for yourself.

‘aramownd ana AN Motion CPiciures S08 A\),

Vo, These two trade-marks are the sure way of identifying Paramount A \oI and Artcrafi Pictures—and the theatres that show them Nn, } ‘ }) ~ sens ~ A ) t .

hg ADOLPE ZUKOR Pres. JESSE L. LASKY Vice Pres. CECULB DE MILLE Dir Geer NEW YORK

ISTRON DBUEEALAL: ZI FOLO REI ROBLES ESSENSE “FOREMOST STARS. SUPERBLY DIRECTED, IN CLEAN MOTION PICTURES”

Paramount and Artcraft Stars’ Latest Productions Here are their latest productions listed alphabetically, released up to January Sist Save the list! And see the pictures! Paramount Joho Barrymore in nid Bennett in “| AND | Bille Burke in “Toe M I Lina Cavalieriin’ \ \ Iu Marguerite Clark in l M aI Ethel Clayton in‘ lur M Dorothy Dalton in Pauline Frederick in Dorothy Gish in fur Ht Lila Lee in li (iA Vivian Martinin®’ JaneGorsAW John Emerson-Anita Loos Production Shirley Mason and Ernest Truex in ( Kye ft Charles Ray in ' He Wallace Reid in ! Dut Bryant Washburn in ‘I ef Paramount-Artcraft Specials “The Hun Within,” “Private Peat” with | te Has Pi “Sporting Life” AM eT rPr act “The Silver King” starring \ “ istle We men’ from Lou M.A \ t | ‘ The eles Bas s \ TI H | Ar tcraft Enrico Caruso in George M. ¢ otto in H ne Trai Hot Cecil B. de Mille’s Production Du CHA ke Y eit Douglas Fairbanks in \ Eleie Ferguson in His I D. W. Griffith's Production I h PF Harry William 8S. Hart in Bea } Mary Picktord in Jou 4 EN Fred Stone in Unper tHe Lot * Supervision of Thomas H. Ince Paramount Comedies Paramount-Arbuckle Comedy AM ) Me aramount-Mack-Se mpene S omedies Day Ore EK wo P, aramount- Flagg Comex dy lu Mr. and Mrs. Sidney Drew in Paramount-Drew Comedies oo Paramount: Bray Pictograph One ea week

et >)

a Y ——~) ;

Paramount- Burton Holmes ravel Pictures

On n week C en i)

ASS] Sa a ‘= } ye Ys i i

Page 42

40 THE SATURDAY EVENING POST January 25, FURNACE H EAT without Wireless and Pipeless The Original Patented Pipeless Furnace WHAT IT DOES The CALORIC, Pipeless Furnace or old, three one register and without pipes splendid result inchurel the Original Patented heats your entire home, through only It also gives new rooms to « ighteen, es, stores and factories The CALORIC heats uniformly and _ thor- oughly. Whether of the bun galow type, w ith all rooms on one floor, or two your house be or three stories high—all the rooms will be warm and comfortable The CALORIC saves from one third to one-half of your fuel The same amount of coal, coke, wood gas or lignite which will heat two or three rooms through stoves, will heat the entire house through the CALORIC. Or, if you are now heating your entire house, the CALORIC will do the same work better with one-half to two-thirds as much fuel The CALORIC stalled in and without interfering with your present heating system Where there is no cellar 1 pit can be dug large enough to hold the furnace and the fuel supply The CALORIC reduces fire risk, as all the up through the is easily and quic kly in any house new or old, center of the reg while the cool air is constantly passing heat comes ister the outer part of the register The CALORIC thousand of the leading dealers of the country, lves. More than fifty thou from Portland, testify that the all we claim. down through is guaranteed by several as well as by ours sand enthusiast Maine, to Portland, CALORIC is owners Oregon, and does Imn STOVE COMPANY Green THe MONITOR STOVE COMPANY THE MONITOR Established 1819 Say, is.; Harrisburg, inneapolis, Minn.; New Neb.; Peoria, lil; Phi Lake € ity, Utah - A Century of Service CINCINNATI, OHIO “Pioneers of Pipeless Heating” diate shipments me ade from Baltimore, Md Pa.; India faven, Conn.; adelphia, Pa.; Seattle, W ash.; Burlington, lowa ; — 4 When Marcom announced his invention of the Wireless Telegraph, thousands doubted his sanity. “No man can use the air to take the place of a telegraph wire, were encircling the world without the use of wires. that it had perfected a furnace which would heat the home more uniformly and economically than ever before and without the use of pipes, many people said it could not be done. Today the message of Caloric comfort has been heard and heeded around the world. @ Marconi and Monitor have safe- guarded the lives of men and their property by making use of relatively simple natural laws. have accomplished remarkable results through inventions which are protected by patents. they said. Soon, however, messages @ When The Monitor Stove Company announced San is * r Pat ale ate Columbus, Ohio; napolis, Ind.; bm Newark, N. J Omaha, Saginaw, Mich.; Salt Spokane, Wash Ky.; Both HOW IT OPERATES The CALORIC is not a pipe furnace with the pipes left off; neither is it an experiment hastily put together for the purpose of meet- ing a demand. It is specially designed and built from the ground up to heat buildings more uniformly, economically and _satisfac- torily than they have ever been heated by other systems. The CALORIC principle of operation is very simple and is based upon the natural law that warm air rises and cold air falls. In the same volume that the warm air is dis- tributed into a building, an equal amount of cold air is drawn into the furnace, where it is re-heated, moistened by the vapor from the two-gallon water pan and then re-circulated through the register. In this manner the con- stant circulation of properly moistened, warm air is kept up. Just as running water purifies itself, so this circulating warm air, passing through heat of froin 300 to 800 degrees, is kept pure and healthful. The patented and original features which are used only in the CALORIC construction, make possible the mc re-circulation and sterilization of the alr. Now this is merely an outline of the prin- ciple of operation of the CALORIC. A full description is given in our interesting and instructive catalog. A copy, with name of nearest CALORIC dealer, will be furnished on request. DEALERS AND OTHERS desirous of securing a profitable agency with an assured future should write for our detailed offer. A few very good territories open for quick acceptance. 1919 woe Original Patented Pipeless Furnace ’

Page 43

gee = tn D, es THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 41 (Continued from Page 38) Languages in a highly respectable university; a pillar, moreover, in the best society. It was in vain. Professor Kid persisted in looking upon me as a school-teacher and contended bitterly that my muscular excellence was lost to the world. ““Wasted!”” he would complain morbidly. Plumb wasted! Why, I could take you and make a champion of you in two years! Make a fortune for both of us! You got it in you, professor. And here you go, spendin’ your whole life teachin’ languages that has been dead so long they stink! If only I could see you in the ring just once I'd fold me hands and die happy!” We were resting between bouts on a certain evening following my melancholy experiences with the sad little milk bottles. I was feeling very depressed and Professor Kid noticed it. “‘What’s the matter?” he demanded. ‘‘ You don’t seem to have the old pep this evening. Maybe you're goin’ a li'l’ stale; eh?” And then I told him about the starving Belgian babies. It was a subject near my heart and I spoke eloquently. However, I could see by Professor Kid’s expression that he failed utterly to comprehend the awfulness of the tragedy. **Ain’t it hell!’’ he said. I must explain that not infre- quently he unconsciously dropped into the vernacular. He was deeply mortified whenever he realized this, but I always forgave him, realizing that this was his natural method of expression. “ Yes, sir,” he said cheerfully, ‘it’s sure tough on de Beljum babies!” But I could see that Professor Kid was like the rest of us. He could not comprehend. The starving little Belgian babies were so far away that we could not grasp their sufferings. We heard and knew—but we could not see and feel. 1 rose. “‘Come with me, please,”’ I said. Completely mystified, Professor Kid followed me upstairs. Together we tiptoed into the nursery and paused beside the crib where Epictetus lay sleeping, a milk bottle clutched in his warm chubby hand. He woke and looked up “‘Ga!” he observed; which you will of course under- stand meant ‘‘Good evening!” I took him up “My son Epictetus, Professor Kid!” I announced proudly. “Gee!” said the professor, with, I thought, rather forced enthusiasm. He stood awkwardly upon one leg and looked behind him as though wishing to depart. ‘Some kid, professor!’’ he said, but again I seemed to detect the hollow note of a false enthusiasm. “Would you like to hold him?” I asked, and presented Epictetus. “Gal!” said Epictetus cordially, and reached for his new friend; but the professor retreated in manifest perturba- tion. ‘“‘Aw, nix!” he stammered, growing very red. “ Nix, kid, nix! I—I got to beat it—engagement—aw, hell, professor—excuse me! I mean Clearly the good fellow was embarrassed. I did not wonder at this, for who would not be embarrassed at find- ing himself for the first time in the presence of so remark- able a child? I strove to establish a more easy basis upon which my son and Professor Kid might meet and be at ease **Shake hands, then,”’ I suggested. The professor flushed still more painfully, but finally extended a great knotted fist. His eyes were staring and his face full of apprehension. “*Geegle!”” remarked Epictetus, and seized the profes- sor’s thumb. He looked into the eyes of his new acquaint- ance and smiled. “‘Geegle!"’ he said again. The professor drew a long breath and grinned broadly. “For the love of Mike, grab an eyeful!” he said in an awed, incredulous voice. ‘‘The li'l’ son of a gun—watch *m jolly me up! You'd t’ink he'd be scared pink at meetin’ an old ex-prize fighter, now wouldn’t you? But he ain’t! Here—lay off’m that thumb, you li'l’ devil! Fer the love o’ Gawd, professor, he t’inks it’s a hot dog! Watch ’m gnaw it!” Presently I placed Epictetus back in his crib; but far from being in a hurry Professor Kid lingered and looked back. “So long, ole-timer,” he said. “Ga!” gurgled Epictetus, then promptly clutched his bottle, applied it to his mouth and went to sleep without further conversation. “And now,” I said as we went down the stairway, *‘would you like to see that dear child dying for a mere bottle of milk?” Professor Kid stared at me and then began to breathe strongly through his nose. “Professor,”’ he said huskily, “‘if you wasn’t a good li'l’ man and me friend I'd lean one against your jaw that'd change your expression worse than the map of Germany!" “Then,” I said still more solemnly, “just reflect that the little Belgian babies are merely Epictetus multiplied by thousands!”’ He was silent until we were quite downstairs. “T getcha now,” he said then seriously. ‘It didn’t get across wit’ me at first—but I getcha now!” We boxed for a few minutes, but Professor Kid was silent and thoughtful. Plainly his mind was not in his work. Inadvertently I hit him once upon the nose, bring- ing the tears to his eyes; but even this failed to rouse him from his abstraction. Presently he pulled off the gloves and we sat down to smoke a friendly pipe together before adjourning. Smoking was not strictly in accordance with the rules of training, certainly; but we chose to regard the crime as venial. After some minutes of smoking the pro- fessor spoke again. “I’m going to get up a benefit,” he said, “‘for the Beljum babies. I got it all planned in me mind. It'll be pulled off in the city auditorium. There'll be wrestling and fencing and jiujitsu and all that stuff. But the blow-off must be a rattlin’ four-round go wit’ the mitts, of course.” “‘An athletic symposium, as it were?”’ I suggested. “Fine!” said Professor Kid. ‘‘A name like that will make it draw like a vacuum cleaner! Callin’ a benefit an athaletic symposium is like givin’ a plate of hash a French name and sellin’ it for a dollar and sixty-eight cents. And that’s exactly what we'll do! We'll frame this athaletic symposium to catch society. I know Peck de Sabla and De Vries Jackson and a lot more of that polo bunch. We'll hit’em hard wit’ this Beljum babies sob stuff that you floored me wit.’ Society always fallsforit. Society likes toget into the papers; but "way down underneath the society smile there’s a heart. I know. People are all alike. You hit society right and they'll weep over the sob stuff just as hard as you and me; and more than that, they’li come across wit’ the money to back up their tears. You watch; this athaletic symposium will go, sure! It'll go like a fat man falling downstairs.” “*I—er—I hope so,” I said doubtfully. “‘I—I had been planning to raise money for the little Belgian babies myself. I had thought tentatively of giving a lecture on The Influence of Greek Art Upon the Italian Renaissance.” “Nix, professor—nix, nix!” said my friend earnestly “You wouldn't have anybody there but the janitor—and chances are he wouldn’t know whether you was recitin’ the multiplication table or havin’ a fit! I hate to make you feel bad—but there ain’t any money in poetry and art and all that brow stuff, take it from me. I know. Remember I said all men are alike. They'll pass up a lecture on poetry and art but they’ll slough a week’s wages to see a good fight!" “Doubtless,” I agreed reluctantly, “All men!” corrected Professor Kid emphatically. “I know. I been most of my life in the ring; and I got used to seein’ the silk hats mixed fifty-fifty wit’ the mugs. And believe me, along about the fourteenth round, when the excitement had got away past the boilin’ point and the police was wonderin’ whether they better butt in and spoil a fine murder, it was always the silk-hat boys that was standin’ up in their chairs barkin’ like a flock of coon ‘some men dogs!" I thought of certain lectures I had known which had been remarkable chiefly for their lack of enthusiasm, I sighed, “Kid Maguire and Billy Sniffen are both in town now,” said the professor thoughtfully. ‘Both of em has been mighty close to the championship— close enough to touch it. Both good little featherweights, but meaner than snakes. Hard to handle. But there hasn't been much doing in the fight line during the war and I'll bet them two li'l’ pugs ain't visited wit’ a T-bone steak for six months. I’m bettin’ that I'll have em for my athaletic symposium!” The professor rose to take his leave. At the door he paused, Say, professor,” he said bashfully, “I wonder >a good-night slant at li'l’ Pick before I go?” What applied to a wonderful child named for illustrious Epic- tetus, philosopher to the ages! For a moment indignation wrapped me like a red-hot cloak and I was moved to lay violent hands upon my friend. However, a second thought followed swiftly and I realized that this was merely a loving diminutive which the great rough fellow's regen- erated heart had bestowed upon my son “Certainly,” I said. ‘‘But he must not be wakened. He might be displeased with us.” “sé could a sacrilegious nomenclature to be m1 N THE day following the events just narrated I took my family and went South, to spend the Christmas vacation with certain of my dear wife’s kinsmen. It was two weeks before we returned I may mention in passing that during my so- journ in the Southern city I delivered my lecture on The Influence of Greek Art Upon the Italian Ren- aissance, for the benefit of a fund to be applied to the relief of the Belgian babies, But the Belgian babies did not prot I Did Not Like the Appearance of the Gentleman in the Horrible Bathrobe, Who, I Apprehended, Was Billy Sniffen. I Distiked Him Instinctively

Page 44

Supreme ‘ioe Prices, Sonora ADWAY. NEW VOR? George | [ s | - | Ro pu hie a wile ‘Thousands in Use j TT iM) it Ooo tl SUM) TT Ooo | wooo The Saves a Seti ili Profits | | | | | } | withoutextra att the first machine in the S50 to $ZO000 Highest Class Wachine in the World mintry roads th 18 cans of that m In thet heen spent for repairs on the Trailmobile hen there is little milk to haul, in the winter, the Trailmobilk illed by a light passenger car; the truck is laid up and iling cost is reduced in proportion to the amount of hauling ist be done. It is never necessary to drive a big truck lf empty lrailmobile has proved to be the Lest investment H. H Miller ever mack st varied businesses Trailmobiles are making similar wal Built like a truck they carry full loads at truck eeds without sidesway and track perfectly. First cost is low, keep practically nothing THE SATURDAY Tone pris are now availa Talking Ali. Trailmobile, by reducing labor cost and increasing the load hauled, makes motor truck transportation doubly profitable on this long milk route on ordinary 110 pounds each the Trail yon the truck. H. Hl. Miller, 1 gasoline required is milk weighing vile « L1u8eSs ho per eptil le drag avs that the wall it can hardly wher imount of ext: be noticed. In two years not a cent You owe it to your business to read ‘Economy in Hauling”, a booklet Write for it now Trailmobile Co 503-523 E. Fifth St... Cincinnati, O Trailmebile proposition is attractive to the Trailmobile distributor g an ever-growing profitable busine RK : lesired r as to the cor ner EVENING POST thereby to any notable extent, the attend- ance being sparse, justifying Professor Kid’s prophecy most lamentably. True, the educational journals published flatter- ing notices of the lecture, and in addition I was elected an honorary member of the Hellenic Club and received an invitation to preside at the next annual meeting of the Society for Ancient Research. But these honors, though most gratifying to me as a scholar, bought no milk for the starving Belgian babies. Indeed I was forced to consider the wisdom of a crude old epigram which I once read: ‘Honor hath a sweet taste, but it putteth no fat on the ribs!” It was the evening of the New Year when we came back from our vacation, and the automobile met us at the station. As we drove homeward past the city auditorium I noticed that the streets about it were crowded with automobiles, alive with has- tening men, and that thousands of excited people were besieging the doors of the great building, which was ablaze with lights. I marveled. It was the evening of the New Year of course; but I could think of no celebration which might draw a crowd like this, even on New Year’s Day. I stopped the machine and asked the chauffeur what it meant. “It’s the athletic symposium, sir,”” he explained. ‘“‘The papers have been full of it for two weeks. They say it’s going to be the biggest crowd that ever assembled in the auditorium. There’s to be a four- round match between Kid Maguire, the Bowery Bloodhound, and Billy Sniffen, the Chicago Whirlwind. Excuse me, sir—of | course you are not interested in such things! But it is for the Belgian babies, sir. Ah! Beyond doubt, then, Professor Kid had been successful! I sighed. Truly Pro- fessor Kid’s acumen had been superior to mine. ‘They'll pass up a lecture on poetry or art—but they'll slough a week’s wages to see a good fight!’’ I sighed again as | contemplated this sad commentary upon the frail structure of our boasted civiliza- tion. I gazed pessimistically at the crowd. Men were fighting to get inside the door to view Professor Kid’s entertainment! Alas! Men had not fought to get inside the hall] to listen to The Influence of Greek Art Upon the Italian Renaissance! “You may drive on, Charles!” I said. However, a moment later I rejoiced; for as we glided by I observed that the main entrance to the auditorium had been set in the midst of a huge bottle, fashioned of electric lights and bearing the glittering legend: Drop a penny We need many! A warm glow of sympathy suffused me and the tears sprang to my eyes. Excellent conception! Excellent Professor Kid! At | the same moment Epictetus woke in his the Be mother’s arms and crowed enthusiastically at the lights. God bless the dear child he understood! We had finished dinner and Azalea had gone upstairs to put Epictetus to bed when the telephone shrilled. I took down the receiver and immediately Professor Kid's agonized voice began to tumble half inco- herent words into my ear. “Professor,” he began without other preamble, ‘I just heard you was back. Fer the love o’ Gawd, can you come down to the auditorium right away? I’m in trou- ble!’ “With all my heart !”’ I exclaimed impul- sively, for I was still feeling the warm glow which had followed the discov ery of my big fighting friend’s generous effort in behalf of bien babies. “How socn can you get here?” “Tn five minutes!” ] cried and crashed the receiver back upon the hook. I did not wait to summon the chauffeur. Still wearing my house shoes I hurried out to the garage, catching up my hat and over- coat as I passed through the outer hallway. Upon reaching the auditorium I left the car at the curb and ran to the stage entrance. Professor Kid was waiting for me and I saw by his face that some trag- edy had indeed overtaken him. Without troubling to salute me he began speaking in a hoarse excited whisper. From the inte- rior of the auditorium a deep sustained roar came to me, the roar of thousands of im- patient voices. “Listen to it!’ said Professor Kid. “Fifteen t’ousand fight fans inside there and some of them paid as high as twenty dollars for ring seats! Silk hats and rough- necks sittin’ side by side and all growlin’ for blood! T’irty-one t’ousand dollars in the box office--and here at the very last January 25,1919 ° minute Kid Maguire falls off the wagon and gets pickled!’ “Ts it possible?’ I was terribly shocked, for pickling must be a hideous disease. “Tt’s a fact!” said Professor Kid. “Pickled to the eyebrows! Everything was goin’ smooth as skunk oil. Society was out in force; the wrestlin’ made a big hit, and the Jap jiujitsu stuff, and finally the preliminary boxin’. Then just as Peck de Sabla was about to step out in front and announce the big event here comes the word that Maguire’s gone and got hisself par- alyzed!”’ “But I thought reminded him. es ou "d say him.’ “But are you sure it is that?” I asked desperately. ‘1s the man quite incurable?” *Incurable— hell!’ half wept the pro- fessor. ‘“‘He’s layin’ over in Gridley’s livery stable, stewed like a prune! And me wit’ fifteen t’ousand hungry fight hounds lickin’ their chops and wonderin’ why we don’t bring on the raw meat! Profes- sor He was interrupted by a frenzied attend- ant who came running down from the dressing room. “Billy Sniffen’s spilled de beans again!" panted the messenger. ‘‘He says he won't box before a crowd as big as dis unless we come across wit’ two t’ousand bones! Worse dan dat, he says we got to plant de two t’ousand wit’ his manager before he'll step a foot in de ring!” Speechless because of this new calamity Professor Kid bounded upstairs to the dressing room just back of the stage. I followed, for the excitement was in my own blood now. Arrived in the dressing room I saw a sullen individual of about my own size and weight, wrapped in an ornate bath- robe—a pink-and-red bathrobe with horse- shoes figured all over it. About this man were gathered a group of frantic men, among them Professor Kid, all shaking their fists and conversing profanely. I did not like the appearance of the gentleman in the horrible bathrobe, who, I appre- hended, was Billy Sniffen. I disliked him instinctively, for it is not in my nature to like anyone who would wear a garment of pink figured with red horseshoes. For several minutes the argument was violent, but in the end Sniffen’s attitude still proclaimed his ambition to acquire two thousand dollars belonging to the Bel- gian babies. At last Professor Kid aban- doned the useless enterprise and came back to where I stood. His face was convulsed and he could hardly speak. “*He shook us down,” he stuttered in his rage. “‘For two t’ousand bucks! But will we give up any of that t’irty-one t’ousand in the box office? We will not! Peck de Sabla has sent a flock out*among the so- ciety bunch to raise the graft money. Peck de Sabla is one gilt-edge sport! Sniffen held us up, of course. He agreed to box for a hundred dollars. But he sees he’s got us in a jam now. If he lays down—why, there’s no fight. If there’s no fight we got to give back the t’irty-one t’ousand. See? But what good will that do if we can’t find a good substitute for Maguire? Professor, we got to save this fight!” He was looking at me steadily, his face full of anguished pleading. Suddenly it reached my apprehension that he was begging me to fill the place of the poor pickled Maguire! Merciful heavens! A cold wave of horror started at my. toes and crawled to my very brain. The hoarse roar of the impatient crowd was rising stronger with évery passing moment. It sounded as the roaring of the hungry lions must have sounded to the early Christians. Again I became sensible of the professor's voice. “I don’t know of another man in this town that could do it,”’ he was saying. ‘‘ Just a few minutes in the ring—stallin’, you know, steppin’ round and keepin’ out of the way 2 “Absurd!” I said, struggling desperately to keep above the surface of my demorali- zation. ‘‘ Professor, I am surprised at you! How d-dare you even propose so prepos- terous a thing! Pooh-pooh —— “T’irty-one t’ousand dollars!” Profes- sor Kid was beseeching me. “T’ink how many li'l’ lives it will save! Ten bottles of milk to the dollar! Ten times t’irty-one t’ousand—t’ree hundred and ten t’ousand bottles—-enough to keep over five hundred li'l’ Beljums alive for a whole year—I figured it all out a while ago!” Concluded on Page 45 you said pickled,” I that too if you could see = => a s

Page 45

SATURDAY EVENING POST 43 HE hardest job of “clean-up” is made easy by the use of Goblin Soap. Here’s a soap that is mild and effective, it acts quickly and thoroughly removing the dirt with its soft, creamy lather which rinses off easily, leaving the skin soft and healthy. Goblin Soap contains vegetable oils which make it wholesome to the skin—it lathers freely in even the coldest water. Use it in your home for toilet or bath—for kitchen or garage. Fine for the office or the workshop. If your dealer does not have Goblin Soap, please send us his name and we will see that you are promptly supplied. CUDAHY, I11 West Monroe Street, Chicago 64 Macauley Avenue, Toronto, Canada

Page 46

44 THE SATURDAY EVENING POST January 25,1919 Send for this hook —and make your | Conservation Menu _| better j ¢ { fs qv Ve S. /} PAR SAVINGS STAMPS ISSUED BY THE yy) UNITED STATES : RNMENT . a a : : ‘ 3 ‘ par off a. 7 . : s “he ae . b, “ ' TL! yaaa peasy WAUGULAORADOUUREANNNDNDvear res 5 > a - ened 4 Free— IT A 64-page book—brimful of delicious recipes for im- proving the every-day menu—all in accord with the Food Administration’s rulings. You will find its value N 2) G ES far more lasting than the present need of food con- E TA ») servation. Its many practical suggestions and thrifty . recipes will be greatly appreciated by every woman who is interested in serving delicious, wholesome foods sd ——— at economical cost The need of food conservation is as imperative as ever. In humanity’s name we must con- tinue to send food to the starving peoples of devastated Europe. Until the men in the field can return to useful occupations—until our own brave soldiers come home again—America must feed them. A Save food as carefully as you have been doing. See that nothing is wasted. Give your family wholesome, nutritious foods—but don’t overlook the importance of flavor. Det Monte Canned Fruits and Vegetables offer you serving other foods that must be sent abroad. It contains the appetizing flavor—the wide variety —the genuine hundreds of simple and economical suggestions and recipes wholesomeness, convenience and economy that foods for making the every-day menu more appetizing—more must have to meet present-day conditions. They are healthful—more truly sustaining—as well as patriotic. Nature’s finest-flavored conservation foods—the same to- day that they always have been Our new book, “Det Monte Conservation Recipes of Send for your copy now. A post card will bring it to you free. You will be delighted to learn the many ways in which you can use Det MONTE to make your conserva- Flavor,” shows how to use these delicious products in con- tion menu better. Address Department E. CALIFORNIA PACKING CORPORATION AN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA AU WR CON Re RR eS MRR IREAS e “The Conservation Foods of Flavor”

Page 47

ig y | H | \ fi a P | me Sea (Conciuded from Page 42) I opened my mouth, but my tongue seemed paralyzed. Again Professor Kid's anguished monologue: “T’ink of li'l’ Pick! It was him that put this idea in me nut! It’s his party, profes- sor! T’ink of li'l’ Pick sendin’ t’irty-one t’ousand dollars’ wort’ of milk to the starvin’ li'l’ Beljums me My eyes misted as he spoke of my incom- parable son. I forgot my position in so- ciety, my dignified place as a member of the faculty—all! I was a man, preparing to go forth to do battle for the weak. Dimly, as Professor Kid struggled to endue me with the fighting raiment which had been in- tended for the unhappy Maguire, I heard Peck de Sabla’s voice proclaiming -to the multitude: Gentlemen, I regret to inform you that Kid Maguire, who was to act as one of the principals in the next feature of our pro- gram, has been stricken suddenly with locomotor ataxia and is at this moment lying at the point of death!” This announcement was greeted by a roar of different quality. In it I seemed to discern disappointment, anger, and perhaps a modicum of sympathy. Again De Sabla lifted his voice: “‘Gentlemen, I am happy to state that we have a substitute for Kid Maguire; a man of our own city, who, while laying no pretensions to being a professional, yet undertakes to give a good account of him- self. I may add that if you are not satisfied with this exhibition you are at liberty to call at the box office, where your money will be refunded to you. I thank you!” Sniffen laid aside the pink-and-red bath- robe monstrosity and went out upon the stage. A hoarse outcry of thousands of masculine voices greeted him and his han- dlers. As suddenly the noise died and I knew the crowd waited expectantly for me. A cold horror lay at the pit of my stomach. **Come along,” said Professor Kid. ‘‘ Me and Belty Corrigan is going to second you. Don’t be scared of the crowd and don’t let Sniffen get your goat. He'll say things and try to get you mad—but you keep your head.”’ Again I felt as the early Christians must have felt as I stepped forth upon the stage within the range of those thousands of eyes. For a moment I stood and gazed out over the sea of faces. For a moment the sea of faces stared back. I could feel the gasping amazement and hear an astounded whisper passing about, for many of those sitting there must have known me for a professor of ancient languages at the university. Then a hurricane of shouts shook the air and I turned toward my own corner. “*Who’s de piece of cheese, Kid?” bawled Sniffen across the ring. “A better man than you, you four- flusher!’’ Professor Kid shot back. “Wait and we'll see!’’ Sniffen retorted. His face had taken on a mean, angry look at Professor Kid’s repartee The referee called us to the middle of the ring and instructed us. Once more we went back to our corners and waited. De Sabla was to act as referee. The young society man turned to the audience and held up his hand. **Gentlemen,” he bellowed, ‘‘ this is to be a four-round exhibition match. No deci- sion.”” He turned. ‘Are you ready?” he called. ‘LET Her Go!” I was quite calm now as I sprang from my seat and advanced toward my adver- sary. We met in the middle of the ring and 1 extended my hand. Professor Kid had always explained to me that ring ethics de- manded that boxers shake hands before beginning hostilities. It was not compulsory, he said, but a matter of ring etiquette only. But Sniffen did not take my hand. In- stead he swung a mighty blow which, had it reached me fairly, might have ended the matter at its inception. Quite fortunately, however, I dodged mechanically and the glove glanced from the side of my head, staggering me but nothing more. A tre- mendous hooting rose from the vast au- dience. ‘‘Boo-oo-o00!” It is impossible to reproduce the uncanny effect of thou- sands of voices raised in a_ sustained “*Boo.” Sniffen’s face set in a meaner look. A moment later I managed to smite his nose, and it bled. Another storm came from the audience, but this was a storm of delighted applause, high above which one masculine falsetto kept cutting like a knife in shrieks of “ Kill him, kill him, kill him!’ When we went to our corners at the end of this round Sniffen was in a rage and his face was a smear of blood. THE SATURDAY “Tl am sorry,” I said. “I fear I struck too hard! I-—I was excited.” Professor Kid was dancing with joy. ‘Don’t you be afraid of hurting that baby robber!” he said. “But you keep away from him. He’s dangerous. I got a hunch he’s goin’ to try to knock you out! Keep away!” Following this advice I opened the next round by practicing the footwork which I had learned from Professor Kid. I flatter myself I did it very well, for the Sniffen person was unable to damage me to any marked extent. Again he lost his temper. “* Dey told me you was a school-teacher,” he sneered. “It’s a lie. You're a dancin’ master !”’ I was nettled. ‘*Pardon me,’ I said as we struggled in a clinch, while Peck de Sabla strove ear- nestly to make us break away, “you are entirely at error, Mr. Sniffen. I am Pro- fessor of Ancie nt Languages in the uni- versity The bell interrupted me. But all through the interim devoted to preparations for the third round that invidious remark kept fermenting in my mind. I was really quite angry when I rose to resume our exercise. Professor Kid had exhorted me to eschew all conversation with my antagonist, but I could not forbear at least one remark to acquaint Sniffen of my displeasure. “T may be a school-teacher, in your estimation,” I said stiffly as I blocked shrewd buffet aimed for my submaxillary, “but I assure you I am not and never have been a dancing master. Pray be so good as to confine your future remarks to subjects less personal—and approximately near the truth!” “Is that so!” Now there is a way of uttering this phrase that is a dire insult. It may seem innoc- uous when viewed upon the printed page; and indeed it is quite impossible for the imagination to conceive in any degree the insult, derision, contempt, sneering scorn all the hateful things that may be implied by the proper enunciation of “Is that so!”’ We conversed no more during that round, for the interchange of blows was so fast and the crowd was climbing up on chairs and making so much noise that it was quite impossible to hear one speak. But the phrase ‘‘Is that so!” worked upon me until the bell rang. I walked to my corner, seething with rage. Clearly the man was no gentleman! I confided as much to Professor Kid, who was at that moment working upon one of my eyes, which had been slightly damaged. Professor Kid was worried. “He's gettin’ you mad!” he said. ‘For the love of Mike, prafessor, don’t let ’m get you mad! Stall along one more round and we're safe! You're cuttin’ him to ribbons all right— but you got to remember he’s a tricky ole-timer in the ring. Stay away from him. And whatever you do don’t get mad!” Nevertheless, as I rose to participate in the last round of our encounter I was in a trembling rage. Almost immediately we went into a clinch; and as we stood there waiting for the break I took occasion to set Sniffen right in regard to my presence in the ring. ‘I am merely substituting for Mr. Maguire,”’ I said. “‘Mr. Maguire was so unfortunate as to meet with an accident which resulted in pickling him badly. 1 would under no circumstances have lent my a to this entertainment but for the fact that we were boxing for the saving of the lives of the little Beigian babies We broke away and Sniffen tried a whiz zing uppercut. He met with discouraging nonsuccess in this endeavor, however, and a moment later I struck him once more upon his sadly afflicted nose. The organ bled copiously, making his unhandsome face more unattractive still. I think —now that I look back upon the occasion with cooler blood and a benevolent forbearance which time alone enables one to feel— I think that it was the ache of his persecuted nose that caused him to utter such ungenerous sentiments. I yearn to believe so, at least. “To hell wit’ you!” he snarled, dashing his glove across his swollen nose and bring ing it away all smeared with blood. ‘‘ And to hell wit’ the Beljum babies!” I do not know exactly what ensued. At this sacrilegious observation I seemed to see a nation of starved little ones, their lives crushed in the mud beneath the heel of hideous war. I seemed to feel my heart burst with the composite injustice visited EVENING POST upon ten thousand innocents. And it seemed that in some mysterious way all that hellishness crystallized and manifested itself in the person of a gross creature before me—a creature with a bloody nose and a mean, cruel grin; a thing which must be exterminated. Vaguely I recall the impact of my gloves upon that sneering countenance; the thump of gloves upon my own visage thumps which I did not even feel. Indis tinctly I heard the anguished shouts of Professor Kid urging me to stay away. But I would not stay away. I had gone back to the primitive. I had tasted my enemy’s blood and this was no longer a boxing con- test; it was a fight —though I did not at the time realize it. Careless of punishment my only urge now was to kill; to crush with my hands this unclean thing. “Kill him! Kill him! Kill him!” That high falsetto voice persisting above the sustained uproar cut through my mad- ness at last and cleared my mind, even as a scalpel lifts away a cataract. As I hung for a moment in a clinch with my chin resting upon my enemy’s shoulder I looked toward the audience; and there, standing precariously upon a chair in the middle of the frenzied howling throng, I saw the owner of the bloodthirsty voice; and could I believe my eyes? —it was Professor Chandler! I broke suddenly out of the clinch and sprang backward. As that mean bloody face, abruptly released, lurched toward me I swung at it with all my strength. My closed hand collided with the Sniffen per son’s prognathous jaw and an instant later my stricken opponent fell through the ropes and into the crowd—inert, senseless; and the referee and I were left quite alone in the ring. While these latter events were transpir- ing the clamor of the audience had been rising and taking on a cumulative frenzy; and coérdinating with that last savage blow it mounted to the peak of vocal chaos, a strange, inchoate bedlam, above which rose Professor Chandler's hysterical squeal of ferocious animal joy. In that one supreme moment of triumph my exaltation fell away from me and | realized what I had done. I had been fight ing! There was no use im trying to delude myself-—-I had gone upon the stage to box a dignified four-round exhibition. And I had done at least one round of fighting! Before fifteen thousand citizens of my home city! How much one can think of in a second of time! I saw the blood upon my hands blood from the battered Sniffen nose. | saw my name bandied about through the columns of the newspapers, made the ve hicle for the paragrapher’s cheap wit I saw my wife’s tragic face, also the face of the president of our university, awful in its righteous wrath. I saw myself ruined, ex pelled from the Faculty Club, cast out of society lost! As I have said, all in that pregnant second of time! And then as though it had been a tidal wave suddenly released the fifteen thousand of that vast audience rolled down and engulfed the stage. I fled before the onslaught of the acclaiming host, ped through the dressing room ahead of Professor Kid, who strove to stop me caught up a bathrobe in my flight, and did not stop until I was in my automobile flying homeward, the pandemonium roc ing the auditorium behind me growing fainter and fainter in my ears As I neared my own house I slowed the machine and gave myself over to dreadful anticipation of the morrow. A cold wet fog was creeping in from the sea. I was chi!led, for 1 wore nothing but the bathrobe above my ring costume. My nose was sore and one eye was swollen shut. I was very miserable When I reached home I left the automo bile in the garage and crept upstairs to my room, shivering most remarkably. I did not switch on the light, but cast my meager garb upon the floor and sought the water basin in the bathroom, to wash the blood from my hands and face—an enterprise which I achieved with difficulty because of the darkness. Still shivering, I then dragged my aching body into bed It was broad day when I|I woke. The house was very still. The sunlight upon the foot of my bed indicated that it must be nearly nine o’clock. I wondered why I had not been called to breakfast. I was very stiff and sore as I sat up in bed and moved my limbs tentatively. My eyes fell to the floor and encountered a horrible pink-and-red bathrobe figured 45 with offensive horseshoes—-the property of the unspeakable Sniffen! Evidently I had seized it in my flight through the dressing room last night, mistaking it for my own property. Presently I rose and dressed. Later I summoned all my courage and went down to the breakfast room. How I dreaded to meet my dear wife! How still the house was! How my nose ached! Beside my plate lay a newspaper extra. Shrieking from the first page was this announcement in great black letter SNIFFEN KNOCKED OuT! Featherweight’s Chances of Becoming Champion Gone Forever. Knocked out in Fourth Round by COLLEGE PROFESSOR! SYMPOSIUM GREAT Success! EXHIBITION Four-Round Match Between Billy Sniffen and Professor Wendling Said by Kid Meloney Greatest Featherweight Battle Ever Stage« d! “ans Go C razy! PRESIDENT PIXLEY TALKS ATHLETK Half stunned I glanced down the long column devoted to a description of last night’s awful happenings. Halfway down the page my eye caught another headline: PROFESSOR PIXLEY INTERVIEWED “Early this morning a representative of this paper called on Docter Pixley, presi- dent of the University. When asked as to his attitude toward last night’s affair of the athletic symposium Doctor Pixley said: ‘The great war showed us the need of strong men. It emphasized the excellence of cultivating the muscles along with the mind. Asa rule our universities and other educational institutions develop the brain at the expense of the body, evidently re- garding the body as a vulgar thing and sacrificing health and manly accomplish ment to the upbuilding of the selfish mental processes **As a result of this system we see a man mighty of brain and pitifully insignificant of body; a forceless creature, too weak to support his own mentality. The really trong man in my estimation is the well- balanced man, equally virile in mind and body. The ancient Greeks built their world- famou civilization upon this concep- tion. They revered learning; but just as wonderful in their sight was the perfect human body, which they considered the most marvelous work of the gods ‘This institution wishes to go on reeord as upholding all battles for the right and the protection of the weak. The athletic ymposium was promoted by some of our best people and proved a tremendous finan- cial success, sending a substantial sum for the relief of the starving infants of Belgium. I am glad that the university was repre- sented. The university has always been proud of Professor William Wendling, the scholar. It is equally proud of William Wendling, the man!’” Dazed and incredulous | sat and stared at the words. President Pixley approved! The thing could not be possible! I was saved Through the open window came the moist earth smells from my garden. Spar- rows twittered joyously and the world seemed suddenly new to me Behind me | heard a soft footfall. A moment later my dear wife’s hand was upon my throbbing brow and Epictetus was placed within the circle of my arms. Ten- derly Azalea kissed me upon my discolored eye ‘*My man!” she whispered proudly. It was then that I broke down and wept. The cumulative excitements of the long night and morning, no longer to be re- pressed, burst forth from my tortured soul in tears. clung to my wife and my sof with convulsive arms. These were safe. But I had thought them lost, whelmed beneath the flood of my disgrace. The revulsion made me weak and pitiful. A hysterical man is like a babe “‘He—he calied me a piece of cheese! I sobbed, scarce knowing what I said. My wife soothed me. ‘‘ And a school-teacher!” I hiccuped. “Ga!” said Epictetus, and clutched my swollen nose ‘““My man!” whispered Azalea again. It was not much; but ah, God of the Hearthstone — how it comforted me!

Page 48

46 Be An Expert ccountant —The Man Who Directs LE-verywhere in business there is need for the man who knows Higher Accounting lo meet the competitive conditions t! exist today, waste must be eliminated curate cost systems must be put into etlect and the management must have the whol situation charted and shown in figures when Over 500,000 American cor services of expert ver wanted erns today need the ( apabie accountants commas from $3000 to $10,000 4 vear and up Learn Higher Accounting | By Mail Our staff of Certified P Acco i readed b Wm. B. Castenholz, A. M., C. P former Comp rolier and Instructor, University of Llinois, will give ou their direct personal instruction by mail. You will study text books, lectures and accounting method wepared by authorities-men who are actually et Joyed or retained as expert advisers by leading ir lustrics The underlying principles and the most nodern methods of Business Analy and Or ion, and the Principles of Accounting, Auditing, Cor nercial Law and Scientific Management all mad lear. You will be given special preparation for the » A. examinations and made ready to command a iigher salary or to enter business as a Consulting A ountant. You can get all this in your spare time whil ou hold your present position and pay for the course, a little each month if you wish LaSalle Trained Men an now be found employed in the executive depart nents of praetically all the large railroads, busine houses and commercial organizations in the United States, Many prominent business concerns can be samed In each of which 100 to 900 or more LaSalle nembers or graduates from our several specialized de partments are employed in responsible positior For instance Pennsylvania R.R.1163 Armour & Com lmerican Tele pany 0 graph & Tele Chicas Vv. phone Company 671 Ry 1 US. StedCor pora aa 73 Ford Motor Com. } Baltimore & Ohio pany 109 R.R 626 Swift & Company a Amonae the numerous firme and wporations en —— sor 100 of more LaSall students or gradu | te ure the following Western Electric Com Wells Fargo Expre - Company International Harvester , ( ear live and Rub BF Goodrich m pany her ¢ id every important railroad compat nt I 1 Free Consulting Service Asa LaSalle student, you will also be entitled to t free use of our Business Consulting Service which gives | u the privilege of calling on our staff of experts ir iny departn at any time when you need special help or « LaSalle Extet n Univer is a clearing house of business information and throug! ite highly specialized departments is organized and equipped to render a practical and dist tive serv whi m canane be pplied | " ther institution similar « Mail The C oupon Tod: ay | The information we will just what | h dev he u requir b e proficient in Highe r | Accounting and how w teach you in the short est possible time It will point ovt the po sibilities that are wid open to the man w 7? has the training de ] manded by lara: business organiza tions. We will al send our book Ten Vears Promotion In One Mail the « pron now LASALLE. EXTENSION U UNIVER RSITY “The World's Greatest Extension University Dept. 171-HA Chicago, Illinois | Without cost or obligation on my part, please send me wrticulars regarding your Homie tudy Course of Train (ee in Higher Accounting and ur Con ting ' Also a copy of your valuable bx k for Ten Veare’ Promotion Ia ’ , N nt y THE SATURDAY EVENING POST January 25,1919 Keeping Fit for Success ’ | YHE three or four million men of our Army who, within the next two or three years, return for reabsorption into civil life will not be the same men they were before the war; and they will return to a country that is no longer the same. They made perhaps the best body of sol diers who ever marched under any flag They were not the average but the top cut of our American physical manhood, and they represented not only special physical fitness but special physical training. When these men come back they will bring with them a certain red-blood doctrine that will be sure to spread to civilian life and per haps may be slow to pass away. They will show us all that the glory of a perfect body is one of the most practically valuable pos- sessions possible in human life. All roads are open to the man who is strong and fit—the roads to social, com- mercial and military preferment; even the road to personal success itself. It is all very well to have earned a few million dollars; but if, as the price for that, we have paid the ability to eat ham shank and greens, then our millions have cost us too much and can buy us too little. The start and finish of a man’s life depend very largely upon his physical fitness. If he has not that he has not much. If he does have that he can get about as mae h out of life as he properly has coming to him; and so he ought not to kick. It is because of the war that the perfect physical man has all at once become the idol of the world. We fit and feed him, pet and pamper him to encourage him in the good work of standing between us and drum fire. But this new man brings back with him certain problems that may even become political problems. For instance, thinking of the tremendous risk into which the war precipitated us, | some men say we must never again allow ourselves to be found so unprepared. These believe in universal military training, some even believing that such training should begin as early as the high school, though few or none indorse any military-service idea for America so strong as that of the European nations. Other men, with equal honesty and equal vehemence, declare that the world is now done with war; that deliberate military preparedness has reached its logical climax in ruin; that the war now ending is the last war; and that we should plan for an in- definite peace, assured under the police powers of a league of nations. These fear that Americans may become militaristic under universal service, as other nations have done to their sorrow. They have yet another and still stronger argument, which is that universal military training might dull arid dwarf the initiative of the Amer- ican character. Before and After Not a very wise man myself, surely I should not like to see the waste of a great standing army in America, or see America make a business of war, as Germany has done. This, though I personally fear there will be war latent or dormant in the world as long as there are human beings, and sex, and property, and hunger and self-interest in human life. As far as the question herein is concerned, I should be indifferent as to whether physical fitness came with mili- tary training or not, provided only it be- came a general thing among our young men and also our old men. The nearest I ever came to being con- verted to universal military training was through seeing a set of before-and-after photographs taken of a hundred boys who for a term of a few months had been put through the setting-up exercises, the school of the soldier, the manual of arms and the simpler marching formations. A zealous young army officer had taken those slab-sided, stooped, hollow-chested and meager-muscled youths, many of them from the ghetto districts, and had made of them vigorous, well-set-up, well-developed and self-respecting young men. That com- pany of boys had not far to go before they would have been soldiers. Turned out in thousands or hundreds of thousands an- nually, their like would soon provide us with a vast army in posse. One thinker finds that a national men- ace. Another thinks the system producing such good results must be a good thing. I cannot pass on the wisdom of either point of view. All I can do or want to do is to pass on the photographs. How can we get at the good of such facts as these and leave the evil at one side? How can we hold to the idea of physical fitness and leave unconsidered the matter of military fitness? Certainly, now that the war is over, the personal and business side of this question is of more importance than the military side in America. Physical fitness is all a question of dis- cipline. That may be discipline en masse or it may be plain self-discipline. You can take your boy and out of him make any- thing you like if you can get him under good self-discipline. You can make of yourself, perhaps even rather late in life, almost anything you like if you can furnish the authoritative power of will to push yourself into it. Army:-Fit at Sixty -Two Unhappy Germany had a ruling class to furnisk the brains for her people and to fur- nish them dise ipline. Her Turnvereins had the army in view all along and her com- pulsory military training did the rest. She made war her national business literally from the cradle to the grave; and because of that she failed as a nation. But these straight-backed, clear-eyed boys of our own—they are quite another matter. How can we keep our sons—and our fathers physically fit, not so much for war as for business and everyday life, and for the en- joyment of everyday life? Actual personal experience may give us data more valuable than any theories; so perhaps I may venture to mention a cer- tain late experience of my own that may be helpful to other men. It has reference to the physical examination for the Army—no matter for what rank or in what capacity in this instance. Certainly, no man is going to get past an old-time, iron-faced regular army surgeon and have left any secrets from Uncle Sam. They know ail about you in the Army—a lot more than your father and mother and your family doctor ever knew. This particular surgeon took this par- ticular writer over all the jumps; and, much to his surprise and my own, he felt obliged to write down twenty-twenty in a couple of places—which is army for per- fect—and followed that with a series of negatives and normals, leading up to a final very heartening climax of ‘fit for active se rvic e. ‘* Now, some five million other men re- cently have been declared fit for active service; so there would not be much point to the foregoing unless certain personal details were added. Few, if any, of these five million men admitted to active service were sixty-two years of age, and perhaps most of them may be said to have started out in life with very good physical capital, because not one of them was over forty-five at the time he was admitted, and most were under thirty-one; and they were selects.”” This latter was not my case, for I started out in life neither an Adonis nor a Hercules, and was far past the draft age. Yet I got by the army surgeon at sixty-two. This result was perhaps largely due to a life spent in great part outdoors, and to a lively and lifelong interest in the sports of the field; but I do not believe that this was the main reason. That reason I trace to an old and well-worn pair of five-pound dumb- bells, which look at me malevolently from under the bureau about the first thing every morning. I really believe those dumb- bells foiled the surgeori. The examination by a heartless army surgeon is a good stiff test for any man. But any man can buy a pair of five-pound dumb-bells, and can—if he has the proper spirit—force himself to use them. If he does use them intelligently, moderately and regularly up to middle age he can get him- self and keep himself fit enough to get into anybody’s army. He can do that at a very small cost of time. Thirty minutes a day—twenty, fifteen, or even ten min utes—may not be enough to put a man into hard condition, or even to reduce his weight very much; but it will make him fit enough to get through a good day’s work, even as a middle-aged business man Every man must furnish his own disci pline, however. If you have not that God help you! If you have you can keep fit. If you keep fit you will be able to enjoy life: and that really is what you are here for. Granted that, we can leave quite at one side the question of your being a soldier some day, either as volunteer or drafted man. There may be a certain value in the description of even one man’s personal sys- tem of keeping fairly fit. The next man may have quite a different plan. Almost any system is good if you only stick to it. It may be said with absolute confidence that any man, up to forty, fifty or even sixty years of age, can get himself fit and keep himself fit if he really wants to do so. It is only this last part of it that counts. The discipline must come from somewhere. If you can furnish that you may perhaps find in the following simple exercises about all you need. Perhaps they may sometime put you into the army at sixty-two. You wake in the morning feeling seedy, perhaps feeling a trifle old. You don’t want any breakfast. You dread the bath. You don’t want to get up. Some men take a drink and go to sleep again. Don’t please don’t! It is a crime, not so much against the law as it is against your own body. Of course every man thinks his own habits are the best in the world and that they ought to apply to everyone else. Sometimes I think a small cup of coffee the first thing in the morning —a practice more general in the South than elsewhere—is a most Christian custom if it be possible in the household. Others may condemn that. A glass of hot water, or even of cold water, is not bad. But, whatever you do, do not try to evade the glassy baneful stare of the — 3s dumb-bells lying under the bureau. Look them straight in the eye. If you feel very seedy spread your arms out wide and breathe deeply a few times as you lie in bed. Then perhaps yots’ll have courage enough to groan and roll out. Al Morning Prescription Get out of bed, seedy though you be, and fish out the dumb-bells from under the bureau. They are only cast iron, but they are going to be worth fifty times their weight in gold to you, because they are going to make you fit for war—or, what is more important, fit for work. Be sure of one thing—you are not going to get fit in one morning, in one week, or perhaps in one year. You've got a daily, lifetime job ahead of you. But, also, you have ahead of you a daily, lifetime job of bathing, shaving, combing your hair and buttoning your waistcoat. You do not dreac these things; so why be frightened at the dumb-bells? It is not an exercise you are going to take, but a habit you are going to form. Orce you do form that habit, you will miss it very keenly should you by chance be deprived of the oppor- tunity to indulge in it. Any man who ex- ercises regularly will tell you that. What you want to do is not to become an athlete, not to grow boastfully strong, but to get plain fit. You don’t need a lot of big muscles, but you do need a good circula- tion; and if you have not got it you can’t be either a good office man or a good street man. You feel seedy because your circula- tion is low. These simple exercises are in- tended simply to set you going and keep you going for the day’s work and the work of to-morrow—and, above all, for the work of middle age or old age. It is strictly up to you whether or not the dumb-bells wil! bring you benefit. Take the bells, one in each hand, arms straight down. Raise them ten times from (Continued on Page 49) a ee a pe ee te

Page 49

Traffic Specifications t-cylinder, valve-in-head, 40-h | motor; Covert transmission; Borg & Beck disc clutch; Kingston magnet« with impulse starter; 4-piece cast hell; cellular type radiator; droy forged front axle with roller bearings; Russel rear axle, internal gear, roller bearings; semi-elliptic front and rear springs; 6-inch U-channel frame; Standard Fisk tires; 133-inch wheel base; 122-inch length of frame be 1 driver's seat; oil cup lubricating 1; chassis painted, striped ar varnished; driver’s seat and cushior ! regular equipme | We want a Traffic dealer in every city, town and village in America. Wire forthe territory you want. ‘ |b. load 14 miles in one hour for 30 cents’ worth of gasoline. Traffic Motor Truck Corporation SATURDAY EVENING POST attic lruck “Horse Sense” Demands This Truck The Truck You Can’t Afford to Do Without You who have hauling to do can make more money with a Traffic. It has created a new standard for economy in transportation. The Trafhc is the lowest priced 4,000-Ib. capacity truck in the world, built of standardized units. One Traffic Truck will do the work of three teams—do it better quicker —for less money and with one-third the help. /¢casts nothing when not running. How much does it cost to keep your teams on the job and off the job? Figure it, right now, against the Traffic, which will carry a +,000- A Traffic means dollars and cents in your pocket—the bigger your hauling problem, the bigger the profit with a Traffic on the job. Built strong—powered to meet every demand—handles four out of every five loads known to the commercial world. A quality truck cheap only in price—quantity production has made the Traffic low price possible. There’s a Traffic produced every 45 minutes. Can you afford to do your hauling without a Traffic? Write for Catalog today. Chassis $1395 —f. o. b. St. Louts St. Louis, U.S. A.

Page 50

aE a No automobiles were to have been built after January Ist. Then, all of a sudden, the ban was lifted. It produced a confusion the trade had never expe- rienced. For months all makers had been turning out all the cars they could, regardless of the immedi ate market for them. By spring it was believed automobiles would be so scarce that buyers would accept less wanted makes if they could not get the car of their choice. Then cars that had not sold freely during the sum- mer and fall would have a ready market when the more desirable makes were out of the way. For one thing | RL FE SO ES EN Ee ee There Would Be No Hudsons Then That was one of the expected conditions. Supe1 Six sales all season, just as they have for three years, absorbed the factory output. Hudson dealers were not able to get cars for future needs. It looked as though they either would have to close up shop or take on one of the less wanted lines. — S But withdrawal of manufacturing restrictions as- sured a limited quantity of Hudsons. Less wanted cars after all, would have to meet Super-Six com petition. Hudson production is now concentrated on closed models, for which there is an excess demand. Some dealers have a limited number of open models though not enough to meet early spring requirements. You either must take one of the open cars they now have or wait until late spring if you get a Super- Six Phaeton. Note Why Hudson Is so Popular For three years the Super-Six has held undisputed leadership among fine cars. THE SATURDAY EVENING POST

Why There Is a Scarcity of Hudson Super-Sixes No Open Cars to Be Built for Months— Hudson Closed Car Demand Exceeds Production Remember how it first established itself on the speedway and in countless endurance tests. Rivals refused to admit Hudson had developed a new type motor with greater power and endurance. Yet those amazing records were made commonplace by later Super-Sixes. Thousands of owners made just as wonderful demonstrations with their own cars, when you consider the conditions, as were those under official test. Every car made converts to the Super-Six. Today 60,000 are in service. It Created Styles that Others Followed Hudson created the Sedan and the Touring Limou- sine. Now more expensive cars have followed and cheaper cars, too, are affecting models of Hudson type. The seven- and the four-passenger Phaetons are pattern cars for so many other makes, that if it were not that the Super-Six is always a year or more in advance of others, one might be confused in recogniz- ing the true arbiter. Two new types are now ready the Coupé—a four-passenger—and the Cabriolet for three. Why Delivery Is Possible Just Now The Super-Sixes now available in open car types are all that can be had for several months. It will be June before full factory production can be resumed. With the first promise of spring open cars become the favorite type. If you delay, and an open Super- Six is your choice, you will probably find all have been sold. Then you may have to wait until late spring. The demand for all closed model Super-Sixes is so great that you must speak promptly and await your turn for delivery. With some models this may mean quite a while. Hudson Motor Car Company Detroit, Michigan lts White Triangle and Price are Two of Motordom’s Most Distinctive Marks of Value The Seven-Passenger Phaeton sells at $2200 OEE PLE A EE LIFE EN ILE OE TORS FS ee aR DOP A. SMR RNR aR EMT Lh ee ae Abe Nt erg PE Ba Aah a alin Oil aN # bia an ang Mea os Mia - WLAN NOR a PT a as ae ee Oa Oe ee eS Say aharitaasiallities emmanians

] rl Mk UD AB, ali Pee eg ee Oe a en “i alg: ae te Nar iti ile ie ame Ayah 4 <2

PO MOREE a." AEM: Sle I STS. 5 5 EE REP IRR SEE RRIOI RTE a 1 AN lt ae: IR EIR RARE AMON REI Nu * dee = || @ . January 25,1919 Dem RAR ae hy ene a Pe se) ae

—_—— eS

Page 51

4 t S) | ; : e \] i im ’ -_ i 5 | ‘ ia { \" } .’ -_ —_ ese oom. - ie ine ie ae ‘a ‘ | @ if ] a | U r j Continued from Page 46) hip to chest. It is very easy and you should do this with snap—or as much snap as you have at that time of day and at that stage of this little game. Raise the arms from hips, horizontal, even with shoulders, arms full length, knuckles up. Do this ten times. This posi- tion brings the weight on the underarm, and you may find some muscles you did not know you had, if you keep on trying this movement with your hands loaded. Turn the knuckles down now, arms full length, palms upward. Flex ‘the arms, raising the bells to your head and easing them back, arms full length, ten times. This is good for the biceps, as you will see in a year or so. Raise the bells, both arms in unison, full length above the head from the shoul- ders ten times, smart and snappy. Not a hard movement. Good for biceps. Strike out ten times, both hands to- gether, straight in front of the shoulders. Alternate, ten times, with each hand. In all this work stand straight and don’t let your feet shift on the floor. Don’t drop your head forward at all. Don’t sway, but stand firm. This makes all the trunk muscles work also. Don’t fudge your work. Get into it. Have some military click about you. Now take both bells, cross them on the back of your neck, and lean forward as far front and down as you can go. Pull down, helping the weight to drag your head down. This stretches the spine well. Once or twice will be enough. Take a breath and rest for an instant. Then put first one foot and then the other on a chair or the rim of the bathtub, standing back with the leg straight. In that position cross the bells at the back of your head again and bend forward, with the leg tense, as far as you can, using force to pull your head for- W ard. This is good for the hip joints and for the spine. Do it two or three times, hard, in earnest. An osteopath might tell you that it would give the nerves a chance for relief from the pressure of the settled spine. Certainly your spine has a lot to do with your circulation; and suppleness, which goes with a good circulation, will be of much more value to you than a set of bulging arm or leg muscles. These exer- cises are intended to produce suppleness and fitness. Beyond that they will produce as much muscular development as you like if you care to extend them sufficiently. I believe your spine condition has some- thing to do with keeping you young. Per- haps it has something to do with your blood pressure, though I always thought there was more or less nonsense about this blood-pressure thing. Work for Trunk Muscles My own blood pressure, as taken offi- cially by the army surgeon, was only one hundred and forty; it has been as low as one hundred and thirty, and even lower at an age past sixty. Twenty points higher than that would be quite allowable. But don’t let any doctor scare you with talk about high blood pressure—if you happen to be one of the high ones. Go after the dumb-bells and they will keep you supple and fit enough in your bones and your arteries. Then your blood pressure will take care of itself. Like enough you wouldn't know you had any if you didn’t pay your doctor five dollars to shake his head and look sad over it. Put a bell on each side of your neck and bend ten times sidewise, as far as you can on each side. -Bend backward ten times, the bells still at the sides of your neck. You don’t feel so seedy now. You have for- gotten all about the cocktail. I certainly hope you did not need a morning cigarette. Now take a bell in each hand—one held at the waist, the other at the full length of the arm above your head. Let that upper bell drop over the head. Bend over side- wise as far as you can, over the bell held tight at your waist. This gives the trunk muscles much more work. Do this ten times; then reverse and go over in the opposite direction. Keep your feet on the floor and don’t shift to favor the side muscles. Do it in earnest, as though you meant to break yourself plumb i in two. You can’t. Now use the bells as Indian clubs. They take less room in a bedroom. Do the Mill with both hands at once. It is done thus: From a point above the head drop the bells to the left, both hands together, arms THE SATURDAY parallel, and make a full-arm circle in front of you. When this circle is completed at the top, carry through into another circle back of the head, to do which you must bend the arms. When this back circle is completed it flows into the forward circle again. Learn this movement, for it is very important, being fine for the arms, back and shoulders, and fine to get up circula- tion. It is perhaps the best of all exercises mentioned herein to give you a general loosening up and to get you going. If you do not understand this movement from this description ask a gymnasium man to show you. Do it ten times from right to left; then ten times from left to right, the circles flowing into each other with no pause between. Be careful not to strike the back of your head and not to strike any bric-a-brac, for a cast-iron bell is very hard to stop. You are going strong now and putting considerable ginger into this. You may also, if you like, repeat this movement, arms not parallel, but one arm following the other through. Now bend forward, legs stiff, bells in hand, and touch the floor in front of you ten times. This is one of the army exer- cises. You can find much profit by getting an army manual with cuts showing the different positions of the physical drill of the soldier. You will find shown there a score or more of splendid exercises for the trunk, back and shoulders. They make for an erect carriage and for a thin flank. Nothing is better for man making. The Fight of Middle Age The flying rings and a lot of other gym- nasium exercises are good for you also. do not suggest these things here, however, because they take more time than the average busy man can afford each morning, and because I know that the habit of al- most any kind of exercise is the imperative thing. The average man has no place for much apparatus in his room. The simpler and more accessible the form of the daily exercise, therefore, the more apt it is to be of lasting benefit. Perhaps you have paid a physical cul- turist a hundred dollars to tell you to bend forward and touch the floor. He says it will reduce your abdomen. It won't! Less food and more exercise will. But this f6r- ward bend will do you ten times as much good in the way of hardening your tummy if, when you come up, arms straight before you, bells in hand, you rise up on your toes and do not stand flat-footed. No physical culturist ever told you that, but it is worth more than a hundred dollars to you, for it will bring those stomach muscles strongly into play; and in time it will show you) there is still hope for you and your tailor. We will say that ten times is all you need of this forward bend. A drill sergeant would not let you off so easy. In all these exercises get the habit of tucking up the abdomen and the flanks as much as you can; this is the most im- portant part for a middle-aged man who is going soft. Itis an awful fight—that of the business man with his growing tummy. You can win that fight—or postpone the issue—by taking these few exercises as a daily habit. If you have special need for abdominal reduction you may want to go a little further with them. In any case you need some regular exercise for the lower body. You will note that by this time you have used pretty much all the muscles in the shop except in one Jimited area in front of you, low down, where lies that lamentable landscape which does not seem to be get- ting any work. All the work seems to be above or round the lower part of the ab- domen, but not in or upon it. How shall we harden and lessen that unused part of the trunk, the muscles of which never seem to get any work,-no matter what we do? The answer is very easy to read and very hard to do. Lie down on the floor on your back, bells in hand, stretched out above and back of your head as you lie. Now raise your legs in unison with your arms, spreading both legs and arms out into a Y at the same time. Do it ten times if you can. Don’t overdo in any of these exercises. The idea is to go to breakfast perfectly fresh and not to feel tired or sore at any time during the day. It is a great mistake to overexercise and so detract from that vitality which is the very thing you are trying to build up. You can work so hard before breakfast that you won't feel like working after breakfast EVENING POST The physical culturist probably did not | tell you to use dumb-bells in this prone exercise, but their weight on the arms will give the body muscles more tension. Put the feet together and again raise the legs ten times—or as long as you can do so easily. If it gets too hard drop the bells on the floor and fold your hands on the back of your head, and work that way a while. If you put your hands on your stomach as you raise your legs you will feel the ridge of muscles that is thrown up lengthwise of the lower body. The use of the legs in this way is almost the only way in which you can get those muscles into | action. Dumb-bells in your hands will give them more action. Now rest a while and breathe deeply as you lie on the floor. Cross the bells on top of the body and steady them so they won't roll off your stomach as you lie Flick them up and down, using the ab- | dominal muscles alone. This flicking of the muscles of the body or of the limbs is something you can do almost any time you think of it during the day. It is good practice and you can learn it with patience. Sandow, the strong man, did not use much of any system of exercise outside of this to keepin trim. Prize fighters use very light dumb-bells. But all of these special- ists have plenty of time for exercise. The five-pound dumb-bells will give you about what you need in the ten or fifteen min- utes you can afford. A friend of mine was operated on for double hernia. His doctor had told him to | put a fifty-pound sack of shot on his ab- | domen and flick it up and down—precisely as described above—to strengthen those muscles. Instead of doing that it broke apart the inner muscles; in an elderly man not used to exercise they are apt to be thin and flabby. That is what hernia is—a split in those lower inside trunk muscles. Therefore, be careful! Don’t be too stren- uous at first, especially if you start late in life. These exercises on the floor are hateful, and they are what drive most men into quit- ting their daily practice. It gets easier every day, however, as the muscles strengthen. But now if you have nerve and time you can goa little further: Put your feet against the baseboard and sit up. It may be hard for you to do this ten times, even without the dumb-bells at the back of your head. If you have some straps on the baseboard to put your feet in you will not slip back and will get a better purchase. Twelve Minutes Enough At one stage of my own experiments, when I was about forty-five years old, I began this sit-up movement on ten and increased it one each day to one hundred, with very few pauses between; at the end of which time I was as hard as nails—and sometimes late at the office. I did not use the bells in that instance; indeed, I am not sure anyone could do the hundred with bells straight through. I suppose ten times of this movement is enough for the average man, with the ten | pounds added to the size of his morning head. The idea in all this is not to be stunty, but to be entirely practical. You want to go to breakfast feeling brisk. All this takes a long time to write or to | read, but not so long to do. You can do all the foregoing series, have a fast bath of three minutes and a shave of four minutes, and get dressed, at least enough for break- fast—all inside of half an hour. If you can spare for the exercises themselves as much as twelve or fifteen minutes you can keep quite fit. If you want to train hard, or to reduce, you can also do them at night be- fore you go to bed, as I myself did for many ye ars Of course you can extend them in repe- tition all you like. Of course, too, you can invent a system of your own and vary and expand all you like. The essential thing is the daily habit of exercise of some sort until it is actually a habit and not an or- deal. If you have to reach for a cigarette or a cocktail as soon as you get out of bed no one can do much for you. At sixty per- haps you may have weak muscles, weak heart and lungs, weak decision, weak busi- ness judgment. Do as you like and pay the price if you care to; that is none of my affair. It is hard to kill a man and the | wonderful human body will stand quite a lot of bad habits for quite a long time. I don’t preach any morals at all and don't think these things can ever go by precept |Harding 49 The Field of Dishonor ‘tik: had never seen a highwayman before. ~ This one had on army officer's boots and the manners of a gentleman. She laughed and told him so But it was serious business for him. He faced death, prison, disgrace. It is a story so startling and curious, with its tangle of romance and adventure — with its daring, thrilling climax—that it could only be told by that maker of romance Richard DAVI S Whether it be the blinding heat of an African desert a lonesome island in the Pacific—or the deep mystery of a London fog— Davis always had a breathless story to tell, He knew that Romance was not dead. No man ever knew so many different kinds of people. No man ever visited so many strange lands or saw so many wars in so many different places. He was at the Boer War—he was in Cuba—he saw the Russo-Japanes: War—he was in Mexico—he was in the World War More than ever before Americans love him. His heart flamed against cruelty and injustice —he typifies the pirit with which America went to war Life when it is most dramatic—-when it moves most rapidly that is what he loved. It is what he has woven into his matchless stories of shining romance With swift easy sureness he carries you away trom yourself —across seas—above mountains—and sets you down face to face with startling adventure And his stories are like him. They are filled with all the charm of his personality That personality which made him a national figure at twenty-three, which made him fa mous and loved all over the world, “The world knew him as one of the most vivid ‘and versatile and pictur esque writers that our « try pro duced in the last half century, but his friends knew him as one of the kindest and most honest of men." Irvin S. Cobb FREE Personal Narratives from the Front by Edith Wharton Mrs. Humphry Ward John Reed and Boardman Robinson Richard Harding Davis E. Alexander Powell To gather thie story three Americans were arrested as spice bree other fumous writers were under fire. The stories are told in the set But, in thie set, thew ix men and women-—all eo distinguished —thraw before you, like black silhouettes against a blinding white light, the human story of the peoples at war lo those who send the cou upon prowpes we will give a set of “PERSO it NARRATIVES FROM THE FRONT in 5 volumes Thie is a wonderft il combination. You get the IAVIS in 12 jumes at a reduced price and the Narratives FREI Send the Coupon Without Money You must act quickly. How long you can have theee books at the present low price we do not know-~-the cost of paper and cloth is going higher every day Whes the present edition runs to add the extra cost of paper to the price. Make sure of yo lendid set at the little price Mail the oupon today Forget the monotony — the dull- ness of every-day life Go with him into the land of romance J CHAS. SCRIBNER’S. SONS 597 Fifth Ave., Rew York Chas. Scribner's Sons, 597 Fifth Ave., New York Send me, all charges paid, complete eet of Richard o arding Da is, in 12 volumes. Also send absolutely FREE the set of al Narratives from the Front,” »ks are not satisfactory I will re in 5 v | turn bork ay at your expense. Otherwise I will send you noe ant i $i a mouth for 17 months. Ss P. 1-25-19 i” Sites Addre —s decal "

Page 52

THE SATURDAY EVENING POST Ask Again for Your Favorite During the war we stopped making several hundred varieties of Huyler’s candies. Sugar had to be conserved. But now we are back to a before-the-war basis. Our stores and agents once more have gen- erous stocks of all varieties. Ask again for your favorite 67 Stores ~~ Agencies almost everywhere In Canada-many agencies; factory and store in Toronto i he ——— | THE | Is Your Bathroom > As You Would Like It? F good judgment led you to install *Tepeco”™ All-Clay Plumbing, you are eating to your satisfaction that you made a wise and permanent investment. But if you were misled by a sense of economy to buy slightly cheaper and inferior plumbing, you are probably now wondering what is the matter with your bathroom and how you can make it last until such time as you can have it reno- vated TRENTON POTTERIES CO. **Tepeco” All-Clay Plumbing is most sanitary, beautiful, practical and permanent. Permanency is not denoted by a white surface, but by what material is beneath that sur- face. With time, inferior materials will lose their sanitary value, dirt will adhere, the appearance become unin- viting — the piece lose its usefulness. *Tepeco” Plumbing is china or por- celain, solid and substantial. Dirt does not readily cling to its glistening white surface, nor will that surface be worn away by scouring. A wise investment —a beautiful one If you intend to build or renovate your bathroom write for our in- structive book,’ Bathrooms of Char- acter” P-5 TRENTON POT TERIES COMPANY TRENTON, NEW JERSEY, U. S fakers of the Silent Si-wel-cloe Bais or by law; but I do preach the personal good sense of not spending all of one’s capital. That means temperance and mod- eration, even in exercise. A man ought to have reverence for his own body. When he knows he is hurting it by excess he ought to have sense enough to cut out the excess, or at least to cut it down. For these reasons I believe the love of outdoor air and outdoor sports makes for good morals and good living. The soldier’s religion of fitness is not at all a bad religion. Some of the best business men I know have very poor morals, because they think they can always go the pace without tak- ing any trouble to keep fit. They can’t! We pay for all we get, one way or another. One man fancies one thing; another, an- other; but we all pay. Sometimes, maybe after fifty, we find we have been paying too much for something not of much use after all. The personal equation—individual tol- erance—is a variable ‘thing. Some men need more exercise than others, some more food than others; it being with men much as it is with horses or other animals. But for all of us moderation seems to be a pretty good sort of religion. Self-denial seems to enter into the price we pay for a lot of good things in life. Thus, a while ago I took on, as one of my own fool notions, the idea that I would not use any sugar or butter, because our men in France were not doing so. Probably they went right along; but I did not. Within a year I found I was easily below weight and did not need so much exercise. I believe that Mr. Hoover has done Amer- ican men a lot of good. Of course exercise in the open air is better than the room exercise. But what busy man can assure himself such privileges, and what open-air exercise is there that we can make a daily habit? I don’t think much of golf as an exercise, because the golf man is too apt ‘to put off his week’s exercise until the week-end, and to rest all his physical salvation on a day’s work. Ten minutes night and morning with our cast-iron friends would keep a man in better trim, would cost him nothing, and would be easier for him. There is no reason why he could not have both. These exercises may be as direct and positive as you care to make them, and are much more useful than, say, the exer- cise of walking for the same length of time. As a daily habit they are far better than January 25,1919 the weekly or biweekly practice of sitting on a board and watching a baseball game. If Mr. Hoover should cut down our allow- ance of commercial baseball he would do us yet more good as a nation. Discipline and regularity are all you need to keep fit at fifty, or even later. By being fit I do not mean being an athlete or an Apollo; but I do mean owning the clear-headed vital quality that goes with a good circulation and a normally devel- oped body. If you keep these things up you will come to be rather strong— much stronger than the man of your weight who does not take daily exercise. Your waist will be smaller and your salary larger. I should be very averse to being called boastful in this frank dese ription of one man’s system, which is offered quite imper- sonally; but as proof of the pudding I may say that I am fond of ham shank and greens, and suchlike fare, at sixty-two years of age, and have just been rated as fit for active service in the Army—though, to repeat, the Lord never laid me out origi- nally as either an Adonis or a Hercules. I simply knew what I wanted and was will- ing to pay for it. Surely you yourself —in all likelihood far better endowed—may do as much or more, or all you like. You ought to frame up your system of exercises to suit yourself, perhaps using this one as a rough model. But you will never be able to get away from the essentialness of self-discipline, temperance and moderation, as well as per- sistence. Ask that thin-flanked boy of yours, back from the war, what it was that kept him so fit. If America shall come to care a little less for business and a little more for individual ability to enjoy life, then the war ulti- mately will have helped to pay its own share of its own awful cost. If our splendid soldiers stimulate us to be fit for a sensible civilian life, then I don’t think it makes much difference whether we have universal military training or not. The desideratum in military fitness is simply ability to stand hard work. Fitness for hard work is an in- dustrial asset, and a moral asset as well. Disclaiming any right or intent to be a prophet or the son of a prophet, and quite aware that nothing herein is more than the story of a very plain and very average man, I should be most happy to believe I have caused two ham shanks to be eaten where one was eaten before. a 2a ie Se.

Page 53

~ — = SSS = THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 51 Preparing America To Rebuild the World OW that Liberty has tri- umphed; now that the forces of Right have begun their reconstruction of humanity's morals; the world faces a material task of equal magnitude. In this task American muscle and brain, and the products of American mines and forests, are already playing a leading part. American industry, which re- sponded sO promptly and so effectively to the sudden demands of war, is rallying to the greater demands of Peace. The call which now comes to every citizen of the United States is a call to produce, to expand, to develop, to lead the way in the rebuilding of the world. American shipbuilders are plan- ning a world- reaching American marine ; American railroad builders are laying trunk “ae on the other side of the earth; American motor vehicles are setting world standards of luxury and efficient transportation; American farmers plant that women and children in countries beyond the sea may be fed. And hundreds of new industries are springing up, with men of wide vision at their head, in answer to this same call for American leadership. Nor is this urge in any way limited to our larger organizations. The demand for efficiency in plants of all sizes and kinds is the same demand which calls upon the civilized world for its supreme efforts in these days of restoration. Fenestra Solid Steel Windows typify the spirit and need of these brighter days. Owing their existence to a call for increased manufacturing efhciency before war wrecked the world, their place, permanency and opportunities are now fixed by a condition that bids for every possible degree of effort and equipment of the most superior type. Fenestra Solid Steel Windows in commercial structures of every sort, bringing daylight and fresh air and wholesome conditions to the armies of American workers, will help to increase the output and quality of our textiles and machinery, of our foodstuffs and clothing, our cars and trucks and tractors and implements of every description. In this way will they contribute to the magnificent accomplishments of Peace. In this way, by serving American labor, will they contribute to the most glorious undertaking that men have ever faced —the Rebuilding of the World. Detroit Steel Products Company, 2111 East Grand Boulevard, Detroit, Michigan

Page 54

i) AS A L sininsicde ane Burn et Bake ize ga und self-lighter Also made wit! \ wonder for Azure Blue Black trimmed heavy nickel No blacking damp cloth grease Make into the kitche 25 Ask about That's what will do for your car! operates by electricity AS EASY TO CLEAN AND AS RUST PROOF Everlasting, unbreakable natural or perfectly with any fuel. 4 full pDurners for coal and wood onl, SNOW White No corners Write tor catalog deriul new material Dealers and Jobbers—Write for terms. Manufactured by the MINNESOTA STOVE CO. Dept. B., Minneapolis HIBBARD. SPENCER BARTLETT & @ Distributors for Central States RUST-PROOF ORCELAIN RANGE Starts Your Car Instantly in Bitterest Zero Weather CHINA DISH non-rustable por lout, fused to ARMCO Iron irtificial gas, coal, wood Patented automatic oven 4-8 in. lids 1 Reservoir and High Closet Finished in eithet Dark Blue or All trimmed in beaut with White Simp! vipe clean with a to catch dirt and you glad to invite company nh ind sample of this wor Name your dealet Year Guarantee Our Profit Sharing Plan. a Master Primer t's not a pump. It you simply pull a button on the dash It takes the gasoline directly from the carburetor, vaporizes it by heat, and turns it into the manifold—a rich hot gas that ignite No Matter Ho on the first spark— w Poor The Gasoline Absolutely Guaranteed—30 Days’ Trial Money Back If Not Satisfactory If your Master Primer doesn't absolutely satisfy ing the carbu if it fails to eliminate delays—heat retor with hot water—back breaking cranking —We'll Gladly Return Your Money 40,000 Mast equipment on Franklin cars if not only does not energy saves battery You won't be out a penny er Primers in use. Standard Trouble proof— drain the battery, but Easily installed—costs only $12.50 The Master Primer comes ready for your car Eliminates need of the high test gasoline tank You owe it to the Master Primer a 30 days’ trial yourse!f—to your car, to give Send check or money order today-~give name and model of car, and your name and address Moncey back if not satisfied Bank Reference: Central Savings Bank, Detroit MASTER PRIMER COMPANY 34 East Larned Street Detroit, Michigan THE SATURDAY EVENING POST AS TO HERMAN WAGNER That’s what he looked like. These things fell like portiéres each side of his face, leav- ing his chin as naked as the day he was born. He didn’t have any too much under his mouth either; so I guess the whiskers was really a mercy to his face. He admitted he didn’t know too much about the cow business, but said he was willing to learn; so I put him on the pay roll. We found he was willing to try any- thing that looked easy; for instance, like setting on colts for the first time. The first morning he went to work it was rainy, with the ground pretty wet, and he was out to the corral watching Sandy Sawtelle break a colt. That’s the best time to handle colts that has never been set on. They start to act up and pour someone out of the saddle; then they slip and slide, helpless, and get the idea a regler demon of a rider is up there, and give in. So the boys give Her- man a fussy two-year-old, and Herman got | away with it not so bad. Of course he was set off a few times, but not hard; and the colt, slicking over this wet ground, must of thought another star rider had come to town. Two days later, though, when the ground was dry, Herman got on the same wild animal again, and it wasn't there when he come down from his first trip aloft. It traded ends with him neatly and was off ina cornersaying: “‘ Well, looks like that German ain’t such a dandy rider after all! I couldn’t pull that old one with him yesterday, but I certainly done it good to-day.” I wasn’t near enough to hear what Her- man said when he picked himself up; but I'm a good lip reader since I been going to these moving pictures, and I’m way mis- taken if he hadn’t learned two or three good things in English to call a horse at certain times. He walked for several days with trench feet, and his morale was low indeed. He was just that simple. He'd try things that sane punchers wouldn't go looking for, if sober; in fact, he was so simple you might call him simple-minded and not get took up for malicious slander. So it come to where we seen he wasn’t good for anything on this ranch but chore boy. And naturally we needed a chore boy, like we needed everything else. He could get up wood, and feed the pigs we was fat- tening, and milk the three dairy cows, and make butter, and help in the kitchen. But as for being a cow hand, he wasn’t even the first joint on your little finger. He was will- ing, but his Maker had stopped right at that point with him. And he had a right happy time being chore boy. Of course the boys kidded him a lot after they found out he could positively not be enraged by the foulest aspersions on the character of the Kaiser and his oldest son. They seen he was just an innocent dreamer, mooning round the place at his humble tasks. They spent a lot of good time think- ing up things for him. He'd brought a German shotgun with silver trimmings with him, which he called a fowling piece, and he wanted to hunt in his few leisure moments; so the boys told him all the kinds of game that run wild on the place. There was the cross-feathered snee, I re- member, which was said by the bird books to be really the same as the sidehill mooney. It has one leg shorter than the other and can be captured by hand if driven to level ground, where it falls over on its side in a foolish manner when it tries to run. Her- man looked forward to having one of these that he could stuff and send to his uncle in Cincinnati, who wrote that he had never seen such a bird. Also, he spent a lot of time down on the crick flat looking for a mu, which is the same as a sneeze-duck, except for the parallel stripes. It has but one foot webbed; so it swims in a circle and can be easy shot by the sportsman, who first baits it with snuff that it will go miles to get. Another wild beast they had him hunting was the filo, which is like the ruffle snake, except that it has a thing like a table leg in its ear. It gets up on a hill and peeks over at you, but will never come in to lunch. The boys said they nearly had one over on Grizzly Peak one time, but it swallowed its tail and become invisible to the human eye, though they could still hear its low note of pleading. Also, they had Herman look- ing for a mated couple of the spinach bug for which the Smithsonian Institute had (Continued from Page 4) offered a reward of five hundred dollars cash. Herman fell for it all—all this old stuff I had kicked the slats out of my trundle-bed laughing at. And in between exciting adventures with his fowling piece he’d write himself some pieces of poetry in a notebook, all about the cows and the clouds and other natural objects. He would also recite poetry written by other Ger- mans, if let. And at night he’d play ona native instrument shaped like a potato, by blowing into one cavity and stopping up other cavities to make the notes. It would be slow music and make you think of the quiet old churchyard where your troubles would be o’er; and why not get there as soon as possible? Sad music! So Herman was looked on as a harmless imbecile by one and all till Eloise Plummer come over to help in the kitchen while the haying crew was here last summer. And Eloise looked on him as something else. She looked on Herman as one of them that make if unsafe for girls to leave home. She had good reason to. Eloise is in the prime of young woman- hood; but this is just exactly as fur as any fair-minded judge would go to say of her as a spectacle. Her warmest adherents couldn't hardly get any warmer than that if put under oath. She has a heart of gold undoubtedly, but a large and powerful face that would belong rightly to the head director of a steel corporation that’s worked his way up from the bottom. It is not a face that has ever got Eloise pestered with odious attentions from the men. Instead of making ’em smirk and act rough but playful, it made ’em think that life, after all, is more serious than most of us suspect in our idle moments. It certainly is a face to make men think. And inspiring this black mood in men had kind of reacted on Eloise till she couldn’t quite see what they was ever intended for. It was natural. I don’t say the girl could of cooked all winter in a lumber camp and not been insulted a time or two; but it wasn’t fur from that with her. So you can imagine how bitter she was when this Herman nut tried to make up to her. Herman was a whirlwind wooer; I'll say that for him. He told her right off that she was beautiful as the morning star and tried to kiss her hand. None of these foolish preliminaries for Herman, like ‘Lovely weather we're having!” or “‘What’s your favorite flower?” Eloise was quick-natured too. She put him out of the kitchen with a coal shovel, after which Herman told her through a crack of the door that she was a Lorelei. Eloise, at first, misunderstood this term entirely, and wasn’t much less insulted when she found it meant one of these Ger- man hussies that hang round creeks for no good purpose. Not that her attitude dis- couraged Herman any; he played under her window that night, and also sang a rich custard sort of tenor in his native tongue, till I had to threaten him with the bastile to get any sleep myself. Next day he fetched her regal gifts, con- sisting of two polished abalone shells, a picture of the Crown Prince in a brass frame, and a polished-wood paper knife with Greetings from Reno! on it. Eloise was now like an enraged goddess or something; and if Herman hadn’t been a quick bender and light on his feet she wouldn’t of missed him with his gifts. As it was, he ducked in time and went out to the spring house to write a poem on her beauty, which he later read to her in Ger- man through a kitchen window that was raised. The window was screened; so he read it all. Later he gets Sandy Sawtelle to tell her this poem is all about how coy she is. Every once in a while you could get an idea part way over on Herman. He was almost certain Eloise was coy. By the erd of that second day, after Herman threw kisses to her for ten minutes from on top of the woodshed, where he was safe, she telephoned her brother to come over here quick, if he had the soul of a man in his frame, and kill Herman like he would a mad dog. But Eloise left the next morning, with- out waiting for anything suitable to be pulled off by her family. It was because, when she went to bed that night, she found a letter from Herman pinned to her pillow. It had a red heart on it, pierced by a dagger that was dropping red drops very senti- mentally; and it said would she not hasten January 25,1919 to take her vast beauty out in the moon- light, to walk with Herman under the quiet trees while the nightingale warbled and the snee, or sidehill mooney, called to its lovemate? And here, as they walked, they could plan their beautiful future together. This was beyond Eloise even with a full battery of kitchen utensils at hand. She left before breakfast; and Herman had to come in and wash dishes. The next excitement was Herman com- mitting suicide, out in the woodshed, with a rope he’d took off a new packsaddle. Something interrupted him after he got the noose adjusted and was ready to step off the chopping block he stood on. I believe it was one more farewell note to the woman that sent him to his grave. Only he got interested in it and put in a lot more of his own poetry and run out of paper, and had to get more from the house; and he must of forgot what he went to the woodshed for, because an hour after that he committed an entirely new suicide with his fowling piece. Near as I could gather, he was all ready to pull the trigger, looking down into this here frowning muzzle before a mirror; and then something about his whiskers in the mirror must of caught his eye. Anyway, another work of self-destruction was off. So he come in and helped with lunch. Then he told me he’d like to take some time off, because he was going up to the deep poo! to drown himself. I said was he really bent on it? He said it was requisite, because away from this beautiful lady, who had torn his heart out and danced on it, he could not continue to live, even for one day. So I come down on Herman. I told him that, hard up as I was for help, I positively would not have a man on the place who was always knocking off work to kill himself. It et into his time, and also it took the attention of others who longed to see him do it. I said I might stand for a suicide or two say once a month, on a quiet Sunday—but [ couldn’t stand this here German thorough- ness that kept it up continual. At least, if he hoped to keep on drawing pay from me, he’d have to make way with himself in his own leisure moments and not on my time. Herman says I don’t know the depths of the human heart. I says I know what | pay him a month, and that’s all I’m need- ing to know in this emergency. I thought, of course, he’d calm down and forget his nonsense; but not so. He moped and mooned, and muttered German poetry to himself for another day, without ever lay- ing a violent hand on himself; but then he come and said it was no good. He says, however, he will no longer commit suicide at this place, where none have sympathy with him and many jeer. Instead, he will take his fowling piece to some far place in the great still mountains and there, at last, do the right thing by himself. I felt quite snubbed, but my patience was wore out; so I give Herman the money that was coming to him, wished him every success in his undertaking, and let him go. The boys scouted round quite a bit the next few days, listening for the shot and hoping to come on what was left; but they soon forgot it. Me? I knew one side of Herman by that time. I knew he would be the most careful boy in every suicide he committed. If I’d been a life-insurance company it wouldn’t have counted against him so much as the coffee habit or going without rubbers. And—sure enough—about two months later the dead one come to life. Herman rollicked in one night with news that he had wandered far into the hills till he found the fairest spot on earth; that quickly made him forget his great sorrow. His fairest spot was a half section of bad land a hopeful nester had took up back in the hills. It had a little two-by-four lake on it and a grove of spruce round the lake; and Her- man had fell in love with it like with Eloise. He’d stayed with the nester, who was half dead with lonesomeness, so that even a German looked good to him, and wrote to his uncle in Cincinnati for money to buy the place. And now I’d better hurry over and see it, because it was Wagner’s Sylvan Glen, with rowing, bathing, fishing and basket parties welcome. Yes, sir! It goes to show you can’t judge a German like you would a human. (Cencluded on Page 55) — a f jj { i 7) } | ‘ | M : t a. m Ct 4 I a 4 | ’ (q 4 a ! { i, f { { { | / , 4

Page 55

THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 53

Te annev amen nanencannnnanetey , ‘rere reeyeeyryeey © % * © 8 ee © © Tlantikan actin heehee ct a aT cl della Aad Sie A lB Ti sun senamonrmeesrenevagn es vaniae yooesenee-svessvearesenstvonniceseessnen:so tees eesecenennenene ee

laa] 4

a nal 5 ——s CGO OE — or eee ae is — ee Pa; oe 2) Fao 78 SER -— = ‘. nat he. ~~. aS arya =) tS? a 3 Tn a) ok OSS OO = tad — a — Qs oS sje . % Fi drt 4+ i ee. V5 3 i. s * ‘ y Sf ‘ a q + “Iya =-G@maaega © OS OS a ya sus :

oe

ED manana 4aiXe

== ee

Can you have Style without Quality in your Shoes OST ev eryone is conscious of w earing better style today than a year ago. Thoughtful men and women have settled the thrift- question by going after sound values. Style assurance depends largely on quality back of the stvle. The only shoe that can look well on the foot is the shoe that holds its shape. This Colonial Pump is the Regal Mode for Spring. The very best of Black Patent Leather—so finely pat- terned that the top fits snugly to the foot. Satin bow to match. Turned sole effects. Covered Louis heel. As an example of style based on quality, compare the Mode with any other pump selling at $9.50. * * * In these days of shifting values, it will pay you to keep the Regal concentration principle in mind —style based on quality. The War Industries Board has done away with price restrictions. You can be asked most any price you feel like paying. But good leather is no more plentiful than it was. Concentration in the Regal business has demon- strated that if your low shoe costs you more than $11.00, you are paying for costs that cannot show in the value of the shoe. It has also proved that a sound, serviceable low shoe can be sold for $6.00—A6ut not less. Canadian prices are slightly higher, because of import duty.) As a buyer of shoes, you will be glad to know that concentration is the permanent Regal program: To concentrate on the wanted leathers — the assured styles—sound, serviceable shoes, with only a conservative profit on each pair. Your sure reliance, whatever the times and the tendencies Sixty Regal Stores in the Great Mets Agency Stor n other cities and town REGAL SHOE COMPANY, 268 Summer Street, Boston

es St SE" 9S BR BO! SEO BCE oR Boa aw Se QGeeQOer

Oy cla els BE oe ERE coe BE Ele Be es EE le BB SE Ele WD SE Ee BB > E Eo DB OE C6 B BS Ee BBO ESE BO EELNF IE.

<2 2EEc 3B 2 Yess

Page 56

THE SATURDAY EVENING POST January 25,1919 JsTorehimeet-tapet tele Certain-teed Paint has ex- ore oh Olever-tmmoblebbel am elehu cog because it has body. This is due to the use of the best quality materials, scien- tifically proportioned, finely ground and evenly and thoroughly mixed by modern machinery. Due to its high quality, Certain-teed Paint covers more surface per gallon, and wears longer than ordinary paint. The Certain-teed Policy: very Certain-teed product m the 8 vary { re 1 rr, a dir sin in Certain-teed laints the ve hg in cost Certain-teed Products Corporation Offices and warehouses in the principal cities of America. Manufacturers of Certain-teed Paints—Varnishes— Roofing ——— — ——O—>EE See

Page 57

a a a ~~ cf 7 quent ~Ondip rn = =a@m kms (Concluded from Page 52) I laughed at first; but no one ever got to Herman that way. He was firm and de- lighted. That Sylvan Glen was just the finest resort anywhere round! Why if it was within five miles of Cincinnati or Mu- nich it would be worth a million dollars! And so on. It done no good to tell him it was not within five miles of these towns and never would be. And it done less good to ask him where his customers was coming from, there not being a soul nearer him than twenty miles, and then only scattered ranchers that has got their own idea of a good time after the day’s work is over, which positively is not riding off to any- body’s glen, no matter how sylvan. “The good people will come soon enough. You'll see!”’ says Herman. ‘‘They soon find out the only place for miles round where they can get a on pig’s knuckle, or blood sausage, and a glass Rhine wine —or maybe beer—after a hard day’s work. I got a fine boat on the lake—they can row and push all round over the water; and I’m getting a house put up with vines on it, like a fairy palace, and little tables outside! You see! The people will come when they hear!” That was Herman. He never stopped to ask where they was coming from. He’d make the place look like a Dutch beer garden and they’d just have to come from somewhere, because what German ever saw a beer garden that didn’t have people coming to it? I reckoned up that Herman would have enough custom to make the place pay, the quick rate our country is growing, in about two hundred and forty- five or fifty years. So that’s Wagner’s Sylvan Glen you seen advertised. It’s there all right; and Her- me an is there, wz wine for trade, with a card ‘ack of his little bar that says, in big let a Keep Smiling! I bet if you dropped in this minute you’d find him in a bl ack jacket and white apron, with a bill of fare wrote in purple ink. He thinks people will soon drop in from twenty miles off to get a cheese sandwich or a dill pickle, or some- thing. Two of the boys was over this last June when he had his grand opening. They was the only persons there except a man from Surprise Valley that was looking for stock and got lost. Buck Devine says the place looked as swell as something you'd see round Chicago. Herman has a scow on the pond, and a dozen little green tables outside under the spruce trees, with all the trees whitewashed neatly round the bottoms, and whitewashed stones along the driveway, and a rustic gate with Welcome to Wagner’s Sylvan Glen! over it. And he’s got some green tubs with young spruces planted in ‘em, standing under the big spruces, and every- thing as neat as a pin. Everyone thinks he’s plumb crazy now, even if they didn’t when he said Eloise Plummer was as beautiful as the morning star. But you can’t tell. He's getting money every month from his uncle in Cincinnati to improve the place. He’ssent the uncle a photo of it and it must look good back in Cincinnati, where you can’t see the sur- rounding country. Maybe Herman merely wants to lead a quiet life with the German poets, and has thought up something to make the uncle come through. On the other hand, mebbe he’s aspy. Of course he’s got a brain. He’s either kidding the uncle, or else Wagner's Sylvan Glen now covers a concrete gun foundation. In either case he’s due for harsh words some day —either from the uncle when he finds there ain’t any road-house patrons for twenty miles round, or from the Ger- man War Office when they find out there ain’t even anything to shoot at. The lady paused; then remarked that, even at a church sociable, Uncle Henry’s idee of wine would probably make trouble to a police extent. Here it had made her talkative long after bedtime, and she hadn't yet found out just how few dollars stood between her and the poorhouse. I allowed her to sort papers for a mo- ment. As she scanned them under drawn brows beside a lamp that was dimming, she again rumbled into song. She now sang: **What fierce diseases wait around to hurry mortals home!” It is, musically, the crud- est sort of thing. And it clashed with my mood: for I now wished to know how Herman had revealed Prussian guile by his manner of leaving Reno. Only after THE SATURDAY another verse of the hymn could I be told. It seems worth setting down here: Well, Herman is working on a sheep ranch out of Reno, as I’m telling you, and has trouble with a fellow outcast named Manuel Romares. Herman was vague about what started the trouble, except that they didn’t understand each other’s talk very well and one of ’em thought the other was making fun of him. Anyway, it resulted in a brutal fist affray, greatly to Herman’s surprise. He had supposed that no man, Mexican or otherwise, would dare to attack a German single-handed, because he would of heard all about Germans being invincible, that nation having licked two nations—Serbia and Belgium—at once. So, not suspecting any such cowardly attack, Herman was took unprepared by Manuel Romares, who did a lot of things to him in the way of ruthless devastation. Furthermore, Herman was clear-minded enough to see that Manuel could do these things to him any time he wanted to. In that coarse kind of fighting with the fists he was Herman’s superior. So Herman drawed off and planned a strategic coop. First thing he done was to make a peace offer, at which the trouble should be dis- cussed on a basis fair to both sides. Manuel not being one to nurse a grudge after he'd licked a man in jig time, and being of a sunny nature anyway, I judge, met him halfway. Then, at this peace conference, Herman acted much unlike a German, if he was honest. He said he had been all to blame in this disturbance and his conscience hurt him; se he couldn’t rest till he had paid Manuel an indemnity. EVENING POST Manuel is tickled and says what does Herman think of paying him? Herman shows up his month’s pay and says how would it suit Manuel if they go in to Reno that night and spend every cent of this money in all the lovely ways which could be thought up by a Mexican sheep herder that had just come in from a six weeks’ cross-country tour with two thousand of the horrible animals? Manuel wanted to kiss Herman. Her- man says he did cry large tears of gladness. And they started for town. So they got to Reno, and did not pro- ceed to the Public Library, or the Metal- lurgical Institute, or the Historical Museum. They proceeded to the Railroad Exchange Saloon, where they loitered and loitered and loitered before the bar, at Herman's expense, telling how much they thought of each other and eating of salt fish from time to time, which is intended to make even sheep herders more thirsty than normal. Herman sipped only a little beer; but Manuel thought of many new beverages that had heretofore been beyond his hum- ble purse, and every new one he took made him think of another new one. It was a grand moment for Manuel—having any- thing he could think of set before him in this beautiful café or saloon, crowded with other men who were also having grand moments. After a while Herman says to Manuel to come outside, because he wants to tell him something good he has thought of. So he leads him outside by an arm and can hardly tell what he has to say because it’s so funny he has to laugh when he thinks of it. They go up an alley where they won't 55 be overheard, and Herman at last manages to keep his laughter down long enough to tell it. It’s a comical antic he want Manuel to commit. Manuel don’t get the idea at first, but Herman laughs so hard that at last Manuel thinks it’s just got to be oor ps and pretty soon he’s laughing at it as hard as He rman i So they go back to the saloon to do thi funny thing, which is to be a joke on the big crowd of men\in there. Herman says he won't be able to do it good himself, because he’s got a bad cold and can’t yell loud; but Manuel's voice is getting better with every new drink. Manuel is just bust- ing with mirth, thinking of this good joke he’s going to play on the Americanos They have one more drink, Manuel tak ing peach brandy with honey, which He man says cost thirty cents; then he leche over the men standing there and he yells good and loud: “To hell with the Presi- dent! Hurrah for the Kaiser!” You know, when Herman told me that, I wondered right off if he hadn't been educated in some school for German secret agents. Didn't it show guile of their kind? I'll never be amazed if he does turn out to be a spy that’s simply went wrong on detail. Of course he was safe out of town long before Manuel limped from the hospital looking for him with a knife. And yet Her man seemed so silly! First thing when he got on the place he wanted to know where the engine was that pumped the windmill Furthermore, if you ask me, that there wine won't be made safe for democracy until Uncle Henry has been years and years laid away to rest. Comment on the Week Clip the Coupon T SEEMS that many holders of Liberty Bonds are not collecting the interest when it falls due. If it is a small bond the half-yearly interest is a small sum. Perhaps it does not seem to the holder worth bother- ing with. Perhaps he does not know how to do it. Every six months an interest coupon, at- tached to the bond, falls due. It is as good as money at any respectable bank. Cut it off and hand it in at the bank. Then put the amount into War Savings Stamps or into another Liberty Bond subscription. We have found bondholders who failed to clip coupons with the idea that by let- ting the Government keep the interest money they were helping on with the war. But that is not the way to do it. When in terest falls due the Treasurer must hold in readiness a sum sufficient to pay it all. By collecting the interest and investing the proceeds in stamps you take it off the Treasury’s hands and clean up the Take your Liberty Bond investment seri- ously. Clip the coupons when they fall due. books. The Criminals HE figures that have so far been made up put the number of dead in the war above nine millions. Probably the blind and permanently crippled are nine millions more. At least a hundred millions have been beggared, driven from home or made to grieve over the death of a beloved person. Satan surveys his domain in humiliation and confesses himself an amateur. There was a time when a few men, cer- tainly no greater in number than could be comfortably disposed in a moderate-siz room, deliberated upon the situation and deliberately took a gambler’s chance on all this measureless woe. Truly a monstrous crime, one almost beyond the reach of imagination. It i natural that a demand rises for trial of the personal criminals—that at least the puny little machinery of legal justice, designed to deal with the mere murderer of one, be set in motion against them. But, after all, there is something incom- parably more important than that— namely, to see to it that no small set of men ever have the chance to do it again. They got their chance through a theory of the state and of international relations to which nearly every one of us tacitly subscribed a theory which put all the emphasis on size, power, and “honor’’ in the old chivalrous sense, which means that it is far more honorable to fight even when you ar wrong than to apologize; which, above all, taught that every self-respecting state must be the judge of its own actions. Forty-four years before, two small sets of men, in Paris and Berlin, had precipi tated a war. History explained that the true purpose of the war was to determine whether France or Germany should exert the greater power in Europe. Broadl speaking we all accepted that explanation as adequate. No great organized body of opinion severely condemned either Napo leon III or Bismarck. One state or the other would be more powerful. They were entitled to fight in order to determine which one it should be. Democratic Government ix> House of Lords threw out Lloyd Geo ye ’s land-tax bill—quite correctly diagnosing that measure as the beginning of the end of the agreeable privileges its 10ble members had enjoyed immemorably. In the contest that ensued the noble mem bers were signally beaten and reduced to the hamstrung condition of having only a ispensive veto upon legislation. Their opposition can hold up a bill for three years. At the end of tha if the Com mons insi law in t time, t upon it, the bill becomes lay spite of the Lord Theoretically the British Gov now the most democratic in the world. A House of Commons directly elected by ur versal suffrage is the sole reposit itory of gov ernmental power, except th ernment it a hereditary upper chamber, which enjoys rather slight consideration or influence with the public can hold up a measure for three years. But Lloyd George intends to supplant the hamstrung House of Lords with an upper chamber composed of leading cit elected from various walks of life in various ways. Such a chamber would quite certainly influence and exert more real power upon legislation than a hamstrung House of Lord could command greater public and make much more effective appeals to public opinion. By and large, it would pretty certainly be a conservative chamber. Men who have become leading citizens in any walk of life are pretty sure to have ac- quired a considerable stock of conserva- tism. They are pretty sure to be inclined to check up legislative projects by their expe- rience of actual affairs, and to want to know as early as possible how a scheme is going to work in practice before they assent to it On the whole, therefore, reinvigorated upper chamber izens § enjoy more because attention a reformed and would very likely make the British Go democratic in theory ense that it would sponsive to current opinion than a govern ment in which a popularly elected Hous« of Commons possessed almost unrestricted power Probably there would be time when such an upper chamber would be that current opinion was wrong, and would effectually resist it, vernment te than it now} in the sometimes he le re Three Ways I ROADLY there are three ways of dealing with the railroads —first, unrestrained private ownership and management; se ond, outright government ownership and management; third, private management under government regulation. ho have never really tried out the first Wi for as soon as our railroad plant was fairly developed the Government intervene—over thirty years ago——by for bidding railroads to pool; though the first thing the Government did when it took charge was to compel them to pool that began to being its chief object in taking charge. And we never shall try out the first way, for the public would never consent to it We are getting a brief experience, under abnormal conditions, of the second way. Our experience of the third way rather brief, too, for government regulation as we now understand it dates only from the Hepburn Act of 1906, which first gave the Interstate Commerce Commission power to regulate rates. But from the experience of those dozen years, taking state and Fed eral regulation together, we can si thi Private management under bad public reg ulation is worse than either unrestraine private management or outright govern ment management. We can much better afford to overpay an adequate railroad system than to underpa an inadequate one. In other wor It rates and bad service will cost the countr more than high rates and good service. It a reasonable presumption that unrest rained private management, though taking an undue toll of profit the plant up to the country’s nee ng profitable it could command, for extensions and het terments, all the capital it could use. It i also a reasonable assumption that govern ment management, with all its pay-roll padding, red tape, pork-barrel extension and station appropriations, and with a heavy infusion of politics, would keep the plant up to the country’s needs. Throug! government credit it, too, could command plenty of capital for extensions and im- provement rE would keep is. Be

Page 58

56 THE SATURDAY EVENING POST January 25,/9/9 Rugged trustworthy Trucks at an actual saving of 40 to 50 per cent Graham Brothers have injected an almost revolutionary principle into the truck business. They are producing light and heavy trucks at an actual saving to the buyer of 40 to 50 per cent. Cadillac, Buick, Dodge Brothers, White and other fine passenger-car power plants are being built into rugged, trustworthy trucks. Graham Brothers are proving beyond question that good used power plants contain thou sands of miles of truck service. When built into trucks with Graham Brothers Truck-Builder, they are making amazing rec ords of faithful service everywhere. Graham Brothers Truck-Builder is a truck rear-system, unmistakably and undeniably sound in principle. Ninety per cent of a truck load rests on the rear-system which Graham Brothers supply to a truck. The other essential unit is the power plant; and every good motor car power plant when the gear ratio is reduced—ts also a food truck power plant. GRAHAM BROTHERS Examine any good motor car and a truck; and you will find them both equipped with power plants essentially and intrinsically the same. The one, the unessential, and the easily adjust- able difference, is in the gear ratio. Examine the rear-system of any good truck and compare it with the fine, strong construc- tion of Graham Brothers Truck-Builder. Graham Brothers use in their rear-system the Torbensen Internal-Gear-Drive axle—an axle so firmly established in truck practice that it is doubtful if it has an equal. The springs are truck springs, the wheels are truck wheels, the frame is a truck frame—all built to carry truck loads. Truck-Builders are made in 1, 1'/) and 2'/)-ton capacities; special models for Dodge Brothers and .Ford cars. They are furnished complete with cabs and bodies, in styles to meet a wide range of hauling needs. If you have—or can get—a good used motor car, Graham Brothers guarantee a truck, at a saving of 40 to 50 per cent, which is good for thousands of miles of continuous truck service Your dealer can supply you. EVANSVILLE, IND. GRAHAM BROTHERS TRUCK-BUILDER AND A MOTOR CAR MAKE A COMPLETE TRUCK ~“2 —— | if { ' ; J q , | j | 4 a mm { 4 A | [ s | i : i i /

Page 59

$ a ~ awm@aems ©. 5 THE SATURDAY EVENING POST S USUAL the milkman, hurrying in the dimness of early morning up the back stairs of the long yellow-brick apartment building, hit the Bill- ngses’ zine waste-paper receptacle with his zinc bot- tle container, and wakened Mabel Hatson next the side back window of the bedroom. As usual she half blinked open er round brown eyes, and half raised her brown head, which showed a sprinkling of gray over each plump temple. But whereas usually after such wakening Mabel blinked uncer- tainly a few times and then turned comfortably on the other plump cheek, pushing her pillow a little closer Wood’s, and promptly slept again, this morning a return to the sweetness of two more hours’ slum- ber eluded her. Something hin- dered. For several heavy minutes she wondered slowly, inertly, what it was that lay so oppressively over her, that was thicker, more stifling than the blue-and-white woolen blanket covering her and Wood. Something—something that had happened the day before. Or the week before. Something that had olly robbed her and Wood Hat- son’s happy, careless, comfortable married life of happiness, careless- ness and comfort As the milkman clattered down- stairs, upstairs, she could still feel on her cheeks the smear of the tears that she had let dribble into her pillow the night before, after Wood at her side had gone to sleep. Ah! As the man, clattering up again, thumped Mrs. Krowner’s half pint of cream on her back porch the other side of the Hat- sons’, Mabel suddenly remem- bered. From the heavy lump of forgetfulness she had pulled the something. Ah, yes! She knew now. The night before her self- respect had been cruelly shrap- neled—or her vanity. But vanity’s wounded vitals can hurt as pain- if perhaps i= fully as self-respect’s ILLUSTRATED BY By IDA M. EVANS BENSON LESLIE I Hatson Their emotion—perhaps in common with many other folks’—was, in a way, mostly philosophic Chis possibly was inevitable. They were a child- less pair. Wood was thirty-four, seven months older than Mabel. Neither possessed a brother or any relative or friend so near and dear that his involvement in the great jaunt to glory and gun shot would wrench their heart strings and leaveeither's life broken of music forever after They were able calmly to diseu the war as a war; horrid, terrible, but mayhap in the end gloriously helpful to country and to indi vidual. But their philosophy was quite emotional. Wood said candidly that he en vied the young devils due to get out and taste big of adventure. But he agreed soberly with Mabel, wher she thoughtfully put the point, that after all it was hardly patriotism to leave her and his firm as long a there was a superfluity of younger men. He was head floor man and salesman in a large chinaware shop whose force the first draft cut into heavily. Some had to be the stay at-home horses However, hie looked discontentedly down at himself several times. His hair held no gray, but—well, he was thirty four and no one ever gue ed him for thirty-three. His shoulders in their neat, custom-made serge were a little rounded, suggesting year right at hand; and hi sagged a bit. Not much— he wa not an overweight, but enough to abdomen put him clear out of the young devil class Mabel we ntly patted hi she noted one of these discontented She had plunged right into Board Six was just across the street from their apartment building. The morning the first batch filed off to take the train for cantonment, an eager but self-conscious gathering hand a looks. sweater and sock knitting of youngsters who yrinned shee p ishly at the spectator he stood not so dignifiedly At any rate, the shrapnel charge had been big and wounding. Life, she wretchedly felt, would never again be the same. And again small tears began to dribble pillow-ward as she turned over and dispiritedly regarded her husband sleeping there so unconcernedly. Long before now Wood Hatson’s early- morning perceptions had learned to eliminate milkmen and other noises As his wife looked at him mildly and calmly snoring there, his closed eyes and full-featured, smooth-shaven face as unfretted as was his short-cut dark hair receding nicely into the accommodating softness of his pillow, a certain resentment gave more salt to her dribbling tears Wood had not made that charge of shrapnel. No. Nor fired it. No. Her country and his—-the great growing movement for democracy’s safety rather—had pressed the fatal trigger. But But she was mournfully sure that in a way Wood in his heart blamed her for being such a good target! Her tearful eyes rested moodily on his dark, young- king head. Not a gray hair on it. Not his fault exactly, of course. And of course she did not exactly want her Wood to be an old snowy-pated person. Still It must be recorded regrettably that at this point in her morning mourning reflections Mabel Hatson forgot her Methodist ancestry and her thirty-four years of seemly vocabulary, and into her damp and tumbled pillow she mu nbled angrily: ‘*Damn the Kaiser!” But soon she hastily got out of bed and hurried to bath- room and cold-water faucet. Wood should not see her eyes shouldn’t guess. Later, over breakfast toast, eggs and coffee, she man- aged a fair smile with the presentable rims. Wood did not especially notice perhaps. He ate with the methodical haste of the business man to whom eight-thirty is the opening wedge of the day’s importance, skimmed the As He Looked at Her Something of Old Affection Seemed to Die Out of His Eyes —He Feit it Die. And She — She Saw it Die he adlines anent the Western Front, and hust led off, saying cheerfully: ‘‘ Well, so long, old girl! Till evening again.” **So long,” returned his wife briefly As she continued with her eggs and toast—she ate more leisurely than he, also more—bitterness and resentment again flared into her brown eyes. Old girl! She did not thank Wood Hatson for that sobriquet! She wished, for a change, he would call her something else! Maybe, some ten or twelve years back, the address had yuunded well enough to her ear wher he was decidedly younger and life was a tolerably careless affair! Oh then, anything your husband dubbed you pleased your easy, young-wifely hearing. But now Old girl! It had just been made known to her that that was about all she was in the eyes of most of the busy, capable world. And all round the streets, skipping light], and enthusiastica up and down the routes of indust: and vocation and avocation and duty, were thousands and tens of thousands of young girls! Pert, poise clever young girls who left no room at all for poor old ones showing, whose husbands were eligible draftee between the ages of thirty-one and forty-five In melancholy abstraction Mabel Hatson nibbled a last bit of buttered toast. Then she dabbed handkerchief again at eyes, blew her nose, and declared again, this time with a vicious emphasis Damn that Kaiser!” Quite ignoring the fact that the wretched old Hoher zollern did not need her to do her bit of malediction, being sullenly engaged in counting his days in his own palace um HEN this patient and long-injured country first be- gan to assemble its needed great Army the Hatsons, in common with many of their fellow citizens, took the } mighty matter with more or less emotion and philosophy on the curb and cried till her plump nose was red, and waved till her plump shoulder ached Coming back on the steps of the building she met Mrs Krowner, a widow with one lank fourteen-year-old son, Jimsy, who had the apartment just across the hall from her and Wood. With a tearful laugh Mabel deprecated her appearance he had run down in a washed-ribbor and-lace breakfast cap over frowzy hair, and raincoat hastily pulled on over her not very clean silkette kimono Mrs. Krowner, bound officeward, as usual wa itself in her street serge suit and small black Milan hat stenographer, with a force of five or sip trimne She was a public girls under her Jut isn’t it a off!” exclaimed Mabel, wiping her eyes unabashed Pausing to pull on suéde gloves Mrs. Krowner did not wonderful sight to watch those boy reply for a moment. She was a tall, homely woman, wit) businesslike gray eyes and flat, wide eye brows that accer tuated the largeness of her nose and mouth, Finally she pol ‘ Vell, thank God my Jimsy is several years to the good paused deliberately to snap the 1 “I’m afraid’ — pause to try to get him into a swivel chair at Washingtor Disdainfully Mabel told Wood that evening ‘Wasn't it cold-blooded and calculating of her Wood, smoking a cigar, his slippered feet miled indulgently at Mabel’s feeling ‘* Mothers are mothers, my dear he commented kindly Neither he nor Mabel exactly loved Jimsy Krowner Otherwise ’’—-she glove fa tening 1 a hassock, who had a habit of tearing upstairs three steps at a time and yelling through closed hall door—‘‘ Ma, are you home yet? M-a-a! Do you care if I go to a movie? They admitted of course, being not narrow-minded, that a woman who worked downtown every day was hand at least Mabel did y might have had as being differen capped in raising a boy gut they pictured any children the t

Page 60

58 THE SATURDAY EVENING POST ‘ é he human race. A much shorter, imp ! tlie Do ne wa ure theirs would have But they had had none At times they talked this over etl And Mahe eyes misted a little whenever hing ture of a mother and child. But at tire he and Wood had agreed that it was just as ering the hig ywst of living and such matters. The tw f ther ved comfortably if not excitingly True W ad made rt dizz revolutions on the wheel of fern fir ( But } fifty dollars a week took excellent e of their attractive apartment—tastefully furnished iring the ear D the bargain-knowing Mabel—their teful mea ifa umount of stylish clothes for Mabel, er-and-restaurant as whipped ream for their daily tranquil sauce of life hey had never felt greatly impelled to save, because both had tacit ugreed that it was hardly necessary. Wood carried a fair amount of accident and life insurance; al ohe had taken o1 in endowment pol- y that would ma ture in time to take nice care of their old ige. Worry found their life At times Mabel rather plumed he if on their cor fortable routine even purred audibi he felt that she could take credit for me of it she had Doe! a typist for about two vear before her marriage; one of the oung, pret ] haired ‘ } a r weer type to whom ex ‘ ‘ half note ind | M4 \ tl P eT f en hy the ‘ ‘ ind | of ome eminiseed ‘ t hcpme A ( And e cor lered that she de er la larye We broiled-chop maker agreed avgenius at heart lettuce-and-nut ilad And she } 1c indeed cre ited i homy place for them . . ——o to live and look after each other. She reatized that cl dren would have interfered with their comfortable schedule As it was, their only real troubles were her occasional indigesttior ind Ward tw bad teeth and h neurasthenic ter Maud, who wit er three children occasionally \ ted them Sunda Maud husband made only twenty-two dollars a wee ind Maud had an annoying and ill-mannered habit of ¢ isly comparing their better apartment w her poore ‘ he really was a captious and annoying woman When Mabel and Wood |! wht a First Liberty Bond ‘ iid d ures ib] | should think you two could afford to pay for one n ful instead of »>much a wee Mabel was irritated As a matter of fact, the weekly payment nece itated a certal irtailment in their salads ind ct Though afterward she did not regret this curtailment, for just as the bond wa ili paid for it was read ly accepted indred dollars asked for a bargain davenport in velours that she came across She and Wood t tired of their seven-year-old leather one days went on and the boards sent more batches elf-conscious men, Mabel gave half a day a week to the Red Cross worl She had abandoned the knitting though. Somehow her knack at concocting salads did not extend to things to wear When her sweaters and socks were finished they were awry and unacceptable; though she thought the inspectors were too finicky A sweater was a sweater, whether the shoulders matched or not! Surely the men in the trenches would not mind such little things! She had half a mind to write and ask them! One of the finicky inspecting women reminded her of Mrs. Krowner—the same gray, businesslike eyes. The days went into weeks, the weeks into months America, writhing in the effort to cast off her dead skin of shiftlessness and emerge in the lustrous scales of new ways, was a busy place. A Second Loan went; a Third went. Ships went up. Transports went across. Great plans went on— went on so far that the enemies of Columbia sat up on their haunches, not to snap but to gape. Mabel one evening fretfully told Wood that she wished the war would end. She was tired reading so much. All the news columns that were not startling were depressing. Her head fairly ached. And the squirrel-and-seal scarf for which she had exchanged their Second Bond was not so becoming as she had expected it to be. It seemed to accen- tuate her growing second chin. January 25, 19/9 “What's likely?” y, reaching one plump cheek up sidewise for his kiss, and keeping a forefinger on the North Side column of the evening paper’s Motion Picture Directory. “‘Dear me, where is Lina Barden in America’s Defi to- night? I want to see her dreadfully.” “Raising the draft age. They’re determined to include older men.” Wood seemed trying to speak casually. “Oh, they’re just talking. They don’t really mean ‘I’m pretty sure they mean it.” “But, goodness gracious, the country is overrunning with soldiers! They’ve got enough to whip Germany e ““T don’t know anything about that,’”’ said Wood testily, “but I know the age is going to be raised. Over forty 4 “Oh well’’—Mabel calmly turned the motion-picture page—‘‘you’d be exempt. You have me.”’ She smiled comfortably. ‘‘And being married all these years no one could say you embraced Hymen to escape Mars.”’ She had got the phrase from a recent subtitle. “Women —They Make Me Tired! They Make Me Sick! They Run Off to Run Street Cars and Elevators and Offices and Ammunition Factories and Motor Trucks and Airplanes and —and Derricks! Off to Those Places They Run Like Wildcats!"’ Irre levantly Wood said wae ey’re talking of ra sing the draft age.” -"_ She was indifferent, discontentedly eying the scarf. Mrs. Krowner meeting her in it had mentioned absently that ske, Mrs. Krowner, lost six pounds after the sugar t. Old cat! As if she, Mabel, was fat! ‘*That’s just talk of course, Wood. My goodness, they’ve more men now than they need.” Somehow they found it harder to pay for a Third Bond. Even Wood, usually quiet of comment, said peevishly that it certainly was queer the way fifty dollars didn’t reach. After all it was a very fair wage for an ordinary man of family “Eggs are sixty-two cents a dozen,” complained Mabel. “And lamb chops—I'd think the butchers’d be ashamed to look people in the eye!” ‘I should think so too, dear,” agreed Wood. “But my insurance—both—is due this week. By the way, I’m rather afraid the draft age will be raised.” ‘Is that so?” said Mabel inattentively. Her mind was speculatively on the living-room windows. She had planned with the Third Bond to replenish their silver chest. Their coffee spoons were large and passé. Now she wondered if, too, she could manage to get Venise lace shades. The Third Loan passed into history. The shipbuilding went on. The transports went on. And one evening Wood Hatson came home upset. ‘* Mabel, it’s really likely!" Wood Hatson drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. “I'd just as soon go. It’s a big adven- ture,”’ he began fret- fully. ““Of course you would, dear!” said Mabel instantly ‘You'd rush right off—except for me. Oh, here’s Lina. At the Screeno Garden. We'll hurry through dinner.” They hurried though it was an ex- cellent dinner. Mabel pridefully ex- plained, too, that the salad was cheaper evolved to help pay for the bond. Wood said it tasted to him as good as any. His tone was sincere. The Defi of America exhilarated both. “Our country cer- tainly can do things when she makes up her mind to hump,” enthused Mabel as they emerged. “*She can,” heart- ily agreed Wood. **But Lhope os He did not finish the sentence. But not many nights later when he quietly came home eS . he did. “Well, I hoped it wouldn't gothrough; but it has, Mabel.” Mabel Hatson’s brown eyes were very wide and glitter- ing. By which her husband knew that when earlier in the day she went out to market she had seen a newspaper. ““Wood! It really has!’’ she now shrilled in panic. ‘Yep.” . “Thirty-one to forty-five!” “Yep. And eighteen to twenty-one “Oh.”” She gestured away that part which did not con- cern them. “But you don’t really think , ‘Yep.” “Oh, they won't take you!”’— hysterically ‘You are married!" Wood said: whose wives are not dependent on them “But I'm dependent on you! Good gracious, we haven't “‘See that one paragraph? Married men a cent in bank He read on in bald tone: “‘‘Any wife who before her marriage was employed is to be classed as capable of earn- ing her own living, therefore not dependent.’ You were employed when I married you, Mabel. I can’t lie” curtly—‘“‘in my questionnaire.” Her eyes had followed his forefinger to the ominous paragraph, but not startledly; thereby betraying that earlier she had not overlooked it. And nowshe shrilled, thereby betraying panicky thought: “I got eight dollars a week; and paid Aunt Jen only four for board! I—I couldn't do that now, Wood!” Continued on Page 61) —-* Ee . ' ‘ 1 7 i i | t i { } \ | e: | ) i | 4 ‘ Wy f \ ‘ Y i } é }

Page 61

i ws {i ; . t 7 i/ . J $ ‘ \ ‘ ) { | i Y } | \ ‘ ‘ \ ' | ‘ ! ( D THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 59 . @, wa 8 Chocolate Pudding Supreme! This is Special Chocolate Pudding—a chocolate pudding suprem« You make it with Douglas Corn Starch, by the recipe given on this page. You serve it with pride, it is eaten with joy—the favorite dessert of man, woman and child. The secret is the extra quality of Douglas Corn Starch which gives a new perfection to this ever popular sweet, not only delicious, but highly nutritious Order Douglas Corn Starch today from your dealer and serve Douglas Chocolate Pudding tonight. Perfected by Experts Douglas Corn Starch has been perfected by experts in the making of foods from corn. The Douglas Process is exclusive The name Douglas on any product is the user’s absolute guarantee of the quality demanded by modern progress Practical Uses of Douglas Corn Starch All Housewives Should Know You should first learn the end less variety of delicious desserts to be made with Douglas Corn Starch It makes a wonderful Lemon Cream Pie Douglas Chocolate Pudding serve with whipped cream D ouglas Corn Starch ‘3 ty eee You use it to give body to the filling of Fruit Pies and Tarts Mix Douglas Corn Starch with the flour you use in making cake and pastry—it will make them extra fine and light It improves the flavor and consistency of Chocolate Sauce and mak« the Chocolate go farther Use it to thicken gravies and to make drawn butter sauce—use it to thicken SOUPS These gravies, sauces, and soups are far richer and smoother than the same dishes made with flour. — Order Douglas Corn Starch from Your Dealer Your dealer should have it in stock: if not, he can get it for vou You will find a number of tried and tested recipes on the package These cover the most general uses of Douglas Corn Starch But to learn the innumerable uses it has in every form of cooking, as well as to make the acquaintance of original and invaluable recipe Send for the Free Douglas Book of Recipes This is a de luxe litthe cook book, containing over a hundred recipe handsomely illustrated in four colors. Published to sell for 50 cents, it is offered free for a limited time to users of Douglas product This book will il O vive you recip and U xpl un thre \ iline ol Douglas Oil, for salads, shortening, and fryin DOUGLAS COMPANY Manufacturers of Corn Prodacts General Offices: Cedar Rapids, lowa 15 Park Row 363 W. Ontario Street 50 Congress Street New York Chicago Boston

Page 62

OU THE SATURDAY EVENING POST ow dont move, Daddy— Daddy does look ‘‘funny,’’ peering over his reading glasses every time he wants to see objects more than a few feet away. His awkward, comical appearance amuses everybody; although others cannot be so outspoken as truth-telling daughter. Thousands of men and women can sympathize with Daddy. They, too, wear glasses for near vision only. When- ever they want to see things at a distance, they are com pelled to peer over their glasses—or remove them entirely. It's a continual annoyance. ou look so funny! y render unnecessary the continual removing and replacing of your glasses, or fussing with two pairs. KRYPTOK Glasses give you this convenience of near and far vision in one lens without the conspicuous, age revealing seam or hump of old-style bifocals. The surfaces of KRYPTOKS are clear, smooth ~nd even; in appearance they took just like single vision glasses. That’s why they are called ‘‘the invisible bifocals.’’ They keep your eyes young in looks as well as in usefulness. Ask your oculist, optometrist or optician KRYPTOK Glasses end this annoyance. They combine near and far vision in one lens. Through the lower part, you can Or read the smallest type clearly; through the upper part you can see distant objects ged col with equal clearness— making it possible to Or How to tell whether you need KRYPTOK Glasses If ou cannot see distant ‘objects clearly through your reading glasses; If you fuss with two pairs of glasses (one pair for near vision, the other for If you wear the out-of-date bifocals about KRYPTOK Glasses. Write for Booklet—Everyone who needs glasses for near and far vision (bifocals) will be interested in the information contained in our booklet, ‘“‘The Eyeglass Experiences of Benjamin Franklin Brown.” Write for adjust your vision instantly from near to far. with the disfiguring seam or hump your copy; please give, if possible, the name Then KRYPTOKS (pronounced Crip-tocks) You need KRYPTOK Glasses of your oculist, optometrist or optician. KRYPTOK COMPANY, INC., 1017 Old South Building, BOSTON, MASS. ea KRYPTOK ane GLASSES With the disfiguring seamorhump | THE INVISIBLE BIFOCALS With clear smooth even surfaces January 25,1919

Page 63

THE SATURDAY EVENING POST REVEILLE FOR MABEL HATSON Continued from Page 58 His expression was strained and thought- ful. “I was thinking of that coming home. Though you'd get thirty dollars a month from me “That wouldn’t cover the bare rent here! Besides gas and electric lights—and every- thing.” “Well—of course—maybe you'd have to give this apartment up. Sublease it or 4 “Oh, Wood!” Her ery was anguished. “IT couldn’t give up our home! I’d feel— feel homeless!”’ “‘Well—of course I'd hate like the devil to have you give it up. But His unhappy eyes went helplessly round the room —from piano to mulberry daven- port, to small polished table holding his smoking things, to favorite big cushioned chair—Lares lovingly gathered in the years. Mabel began to sob. ‘‘A—a furnished room 2 “You might Your mother — “Oh, I couldn’t go and live off her in that little town. And I couldn’t pay her unless I stayed here in the city and worked in an office!” He was silent. “And I simply couldn’t live with your sister Maud. Only those two small bed- rooms—and she fries things in lard!” Wood grinned unhappily. ‘ Yes—I’ve tasted it.” He rose and paced the room restlessly. Finally he paused. ‘Well, I haven't gone yet ‘as try ing to register cheerfulness. ‘*No use crossing a bridge until wi She sobbed on. ‘I feel in my bones we'll have to cross it.” After a while she looked up piteously. “Wood, you don’t think I’m selfish and egotistical, do you? It’s only that I just can’t bear to think of breaking up our nice home just for you to go away to some horrid cantonment for a few months—for of course the war’ll be all over before you'd get to it.” “I don’t think anything of the kind!” warmly. “Say, it hurts me like the dickens to think of breaking up--as you say, for maybe a year--and you shifting round, working downtown i She lifted a wretched frank face and attempted to register reasonableness. “T can work, of course, but I’m dreadfully out of practice on the typewriter, I’m afraid. Twelve years, it’s been, Wood.” It was then that Wood Hatson turned and looked strangely at Mabel Hatson. Strangely— and critically. Looked at her, not as a loving, consoling husband but as a ” business man She was not at her best, as it happened. The day had been unseasonably warm. On such days Mabel’s plump 7-D feet ached, and so now she was in flat, flapping old slippers of his Her voluminous house dress—-which made her seem larger of waistline than she really was---was on its fourth and none too tidy day. Her corsets she had discarded for a comfortable eve- ning at home. Then her tears —well, un- luckily for all women, along in the middle thirties tears do not beautify your middle- aging countenance. They seem to “flab- bify’”’ it Poor Mabel Hatson. Poor Wood! As he looked at her something of old affection seemed to die out of his eye he felt it die. And she —she saw it die. One cannot be married to a man for a number of years without learning to read most of his thoughts— unless one is an unbelievably stupid womar He was visualizing her and she saw that he was visualizing her— in a downtown office, side by side with trim, efficient, small-waisted, neat-shod young office women who were in practice on type writer. And among them she did not fit. Oh, she had made a comfortable home for him her lettuce-and-maraschino-cherry salads were palate-tickling. She could clean his pipes expertly. She could match rugs and hangings deftly. She was a cheerful com- panion for theater or movie. Their life together had been pleasant to the mth de- gree. But A slow, reluctant fiush found its way over Wood Hatson’s face as he felt the first touch of a shame. Not shame over her be this to his credit. But shame over his fear that he would feel shame over her. Suppose she applied to, say, his own firm for a position! and failed to give satis- faction! and cried, as to-night, so that her plump face was streaked and flabby, as now! Quite often the women workers cried—he had seen some. Not the efficient ones, of course. And of course there were many office women—or girls who were not efficient or trim. Again his strange, critical eyes went—while her wide eyes affrightedly followed his—to corsetless waist and flap- ping feet. But such office girls—or women he was well aware found it hard to corral even eight small dollars a week. He re- called the Mabel of twelve years before young, slender, alert, but inclined to whimper sadly over old grouchy bosses who simply raised Cain over misspelled words and smeary sentences. And Mabel, watching hypnotically, read his thoughts, his recollections, understood his look at her dumpy waistline, her tear- flabby cheeks. “Let's hope I won’t have to go in the end,” he said with obviously forced as- sumption of cheeriness. She assented with a gulp. But it was that night that, when he had gone to sleep, she let the tears dribble into her pillow. After many years she suddenly felt herself a superfluity on earth! For Wood to look at herthat way! She recalled, too, that the typewriter had never been a docile machine under her youthful fingers. mi ND the next day, and forever after, Mabel Hatson forgot the world war, her country’s growth in ideals and army, and much other important matters of her globe. Her world was Wood Hatson when it came down to facts. Were he to be sent to the fighting line and killed she knew that home or no home, furnished room or Lake Shore castle, would never matter to her. But there was prac- tically no likelihood of his being sent there. And to spend the rest of her life with him, after reading in his eyes that horrible con- tempt! Oh, there was no evading it—it had been actual contempt. For several days she cried and brooded by turns—carefully washing her eyes and powdering well before Wood got home. Her happiness had festered. And a fes- tering thing lets you have no peace. There soon came well-based rumors that older men would never be needed in this war. Jut that did not obliterate her recollection of the look in Wood's eyes, It had seemed to brand her as a parasite. So finally she decided to work downtown awhile for Mrs. Krowner and show him, and everybody else, that—well, show something! Mrs. Krowner was usually needing another tenographer; she had heard her say so. And though she was not particularly fond of her neighbor she would not mind work- ing for her a while, until she got speed and proficiency enough to choose employers. So one morning she stepped out into the hall as Mrs. Krowner was starting for her ottice. She stepped back into her own hall with compressed lips and reddened face. “Why, I’m sorry,” said Mrs. Krowner Sy mpathetically. “This war has uprooted so many homes. jut I can use only stenographic experts, Mrs. Hatson. My clientele is rather fussy.” Experts! In aweek Mabel Hatson’s per ceptions had sharpened., Mrs. Krowner’s glance at her plump waist and frilled-capped hair reminded her of Wood's. There was the same tincture of contempt—only more impersonal. But now she felt no inelina tion to tears. Not over another woman! Her humor took on a grimness that settled teadily into determination. Well, she would show Mrs. Krowner as well as Wood! It is likely that Mabel Hatson never be- fore scurried as she did that day. The woman who came two days a week to clean was there. Feverishly she helped, so that she could send the woman away at noon Then she fairly flung herself into street clothes and went forth. She came back barely in time to have dinner ready for Wood. But she had found no position. She never told what she did the succeed- ing three days. But the fourth she went out and came back with forty dollars in place of a bond three-fourths paid for. And the next day she paid this forty dollars for tuition at a business college. She knew of no better way to get proficiency anda job at her work of earlier years. Did she tell Wood? She did not. The days were over when she told every little thing to Wood. That look of his had ended them. Some day she would tell him—some day when a large corporation had installed her at its right hand at a brand-new typewriter. Then perhaps Wood would apologetically wipe that look out of his eyes and give her the same old careless, uncritical glance. Determination gripped her as furiously as hunger was gripping poor Russia. It took some mental and physical ma- neuvering not to tell him though. Her hours down at the business school meant more hours away from home than she was in the habit of spending. She had too long been the excellent housewife not to have her house rest heavy on her mind. Meals and cleaning —the routine had to go on for her own satisfaction and to insure Wood's ignorance. And at first it must be admitted that she simply scrambled to get dressed after breakfast and Wood's leaving, in order to reach school on time. In easy happy years she had formed the habit of doing her hair and dressing very leisurely. She was accus tomed to spend the entire afternoon getting ready for their weekly theater treat. But when necessity prods, you can move faster than you ever believed. She moved faster; and afternoons she simply tore home to buy and prepare din ner for Wood in the style to which she had accustomed him. His preoccupation helped her somewhat. He was brooding over ways and means matters to be adjusted before he went should he have to go; and matters that could not be adjusted. By tacit consent they omitted theater and restaurant sup per that first week. Also the next, and the next. He said briefly one night that he sim ply had to pay up all his insurance at once. And he was so preoccupied that one night when she substituted delicatessen salad and cold meat for their usual fare he did not know it. She had disliked making the substitution, but all her scrambling that week had not given her sufficient time for regular menu planning. However, in two weeks or so she began to dovetail her duties better. She got her wardrobe in better order—was careful to keep it mended and wearable at instant notice. She sorted out her waists; she kept on front hangers in the closet those that were most easily hooked mornings and ur hooked evenings. She was in no humor f« spending money these days, but she loo ened her pocketbook enough fora pair of comfortable wide soled shoes; she had ho time to waste on troublesome feet. Too, she chose a neat, quick way of doing her hair; she had no spare minutes to put littl curls over ears and temples. And she kept hat, gloves, veil and purse in a hand place—handy to find mornings; handy to reach evenings It was hard doing all this—to a womar used for many years to spending all the time she liked on herself. But she either had to do it or give up the business school. The choice was narrow. As the days went on she got most of her hours into a fair working schedule. If per haps the living room was not dustec regularly it did not much matter, becauss both she and Wood seemed to pas little attention to mere rooms evenings. she was tired and he was obviously worried Over her she knew. He loved her— would not like to see her wretched. Well he told herself bitterly that she wished he loved her kk her She did not cry any more over it, how and had a higher opinion of ever. She really did not have time. Going to sieep at night she was worriedly thinking of the next day. Awake day he wa pressed for minutes. Though she felt that she managed pretty well she could not cool so much as formerly, try as she would. So several spare tag ends of days were spent in scouring the neighborhood for the best delicatessen shop. Some served impossible stuff. However, she finally found one that was better than the others. At least Wood seemed to see no apparent difference However, she knew well enough that if he were in a happier and more observant frame of mind he'd notice the difference in his fare soon enough She hoped that he would continue un observant. It made her course easier. A the days went on and Germany slipped faster and faster to defeat all were agreed that the last war had about run its course But that little matter, which held the at tention of the world, got very little of Mabel Hatson’s attention. The important thing to her was that she should regain her importance in one man’s eyes. She had about forgotten autocracy, the original cause of her woe. The woe utterly over shadowed the cause. She feared failure for herself as the Allies had more than once feared it. This fear gave her formerly good-natured mouth a certain tautness and seemed to sharpen her usually soft countenance And whether the fear of failure inspired failure, or whether an underlying conscious ness that failure was inevitable inspired her incessant fear, is hard to say. As hard to say as whether the egg or the chicken hap pened into existence first. But when six hard scrambling weeks had gone by, about all that Mabel Hatson could claim that she had accomplished was the adjustment of her home duties to her business-school hours! She could do her hair and dress herself, and run her house and spend most of her day away from home at work. Well, it was a good thing she could lay that unction to her straining soul For as to those hours that she spent at work She hit the keys of her machine steadily and industriously. She listened conscien tiously to her instructors patient intervals filling the pages of a new stenographic notebook with pothooks. But the keys said to her wabbling fin gers: ‘Say, you miss us oftener than you hit us!" And her instructors eyed her peculiarly And no intervals were long enough for her —-or instructor! —to decipher what those pothooks stood for! One night after Wood was asleep she sneaked out of bed to the dining room and spent two wretched, concentrated hours on the next day’s deciphery. It seemed that mind and hands had taken on stolidity with the year And it was inconceivable to her that such easy happy years could have been so cruel! Most of her class consisted of younger women-—girls: slim, pert, chattering thing whose limber young brains and facile tongues left her behind, it seemed. Of the older ones there was one ¢ Sper ially stout stupid person, in her forties, who seemed to poor Mabel to be her double. Looking at this poor slow old soul she felt that she was looking at herself as she appeared to Wood! And from growing eXasperatior with the other’s obvious misfitness as an office worker she grew exasperated with her She spent long, own unfitness for any work But exasperation does not give berness of mind She continued not to become captain of And finally she demanded plain talk from a teacher ‘Will | ever, Mr. Huckton, become ar enographer?”’ Her eyes were de spairing, her voice was bitter Mr. Huckton was a little pedagogic man all shriveled tlesh and shrewd orb He looked at he looked away from her, looked back, looked away you lim her career expert st ‘Il want to know!” tent He aid dryly “Weil, ever 1 long time, Mr Hatson! One can do almost in long enough time SI Wik nril in anything And how how,” rhe qua ered ‘much time will | need? Ile looked awa He eemecd t ippre asmall grim smile I reall Mr Hatson, | yuuld not In a vear?” she demanded strong] He looked down at the sheet just taker Irom her machine She had the been at And this was it chook just eight week “Ddear 5 or; Inrepl y to you of reccent datte?, w ¢ begj tosaym t hat We can,ot td Frankly Huckton told her “In about fourteen year Maybe!” Ah,”’ said she with stiff, colorless lip He was not an unl liy man. ““Stenog raphy isn’t the only kind of work,” he told her. ‘There are other kinds. And it simply 3, my dear omething doesn't belong to ome fo woman Wh: don't you try else?” She did not listen to the end of his smug, consolatory advice. Where, pray, was any | w of nothing something else She knew

Page 64

hich she had ar talent — executive, ar i pecific or general. At the end of the ifternoon session she hut her notebook ind went home, knowing that she would ot come back And as she went her feet were lumps of rock This the end of her weeks of fierce letermination! Well, she had really ex pected it. Always there had been under gy recollection of those typing years of girlhood. She remembered plainly that in the two years she had held exactly eight positions —and most eagerly had given up the eighth for Wood's arms and support! Now she knew stoically that unless ymehow she rehabilitated herself in her husband's eyes savor would be forever gone from her life. That suggestion of contempt in his eyes would become more than a iggestion He would always see her here after as a rather helpless old-woman-of-the ea person. And in time he would come to think of her as old—and dependent Dependent! She did not thank the men at Washington who had flung out that belittling, detestable word Dependent! Once maybe she had rather relished it, had enjoyed leaning on Wood financially and mentally; but that was before he looked at her like like she was a depend ent! Ugh! The word suggested county poorhouses, poverty-stricken relations, old vomen in shawls by a chimney. Bah! lor the first time in weeks the tears came again. As they dribbled down each dis couraged cheek he did not care whether the people in the street car saw them or not Let ’em look! She reflected cynically that they'd assume she'd lost in the war some one dear to her. Well, she had. She had lost herself, her old happy, comfortable self And when she got off the car she only half wiped them off. Whether Wood saw traces of her crying or not mattered little Something else! Oh, that man Huckton could talk very smugly, theoretically There was nothing else whose lines she could grasp. No reins by which she could drive any steed of industry! She was simply one of the great mob of inefficients that magazines and lecturers harped about As she walked stolidly down the street he felt branded for all to see. Wood had een - Mrs. Krowner had seen—Huckton had seen. And one day she had caught a group of young laughing, chattering things it the school doubling up over her type heets. Everyone saw The little tears made dribbling furrows down cheek again as she turned into a side street to a delicatessen shop Reaction to the fierce effort of weeks was coming over her. She was descending into the blue wamp of despair Then in the delicatessen shop she found that to the big blow of the day Fate had meanly added a smaller one. The shop's counters were bare. Sold out. She dragged her weary way back two blocks to another shop. When she saw that it, too, had few dishes and those not overly attractive fatigue flamed out in temper ‘Why don't you have stuff for custom ers?" she demanded angrily For psychological reasons which most lise ouraged folks will understand she had desired dinner that night to be as good as u ual he proprietor, a small, stooped, weary man, scowled impatiently at her query a he dished out for her some flaccid potato alad and a mold of jam ‘Why don’t 1?" aggrievedly if | eould!” He slapped the wooden dish pettishly on the counter and s snappe “i: “I can’t get any- body to help me She was lis tone uninterested in his troubles. Her own were preéminent But he went on broodingly: ‘Women they make me tired! They make me sick! They run off to run street cars and eleva tors and offices and ammunition factories and motor trucks and airplanes and—and derricks! Off to those places they run like wildeats!"" His vehemence annoyed Mabel. ‘Have you any pimiento cheese?” she asked sharply He got it, and went on bitterly, with air of having grievance that must be aired “Those women! They make me sick! Will any of "em come and make salad for an honest delicatessen man? No, they won't! It was not the bitterness of his tone that made Mabel Hatson jump “Why--why, do you want one?” she demanded stammeringly, hastily. ‘Do I want one!” He flung out his hands at her, groaned at her. ‘Does an I would THE SATURDAY empty car want gasoline? Madam, I want someone so bad that I’m darn near crazy! Do you think a man likes to see a business that he’s been years building up dwindle away’?” This with wild violence Mabel Hatson leaned her weight against the counter. She was trembling and her eyes had taken on a glitter ‘“*How much— how much would you pay a good salad maker?” she asked tremu- lously, weakly He took no time to consider. Again 7 flung out wide, wanting hands. He said instantly, with the desperation that is born of long and acute need: “To any woman who’s got just gumption enough to pare and slice boiled potatoes and sprinkle salt and mustard over them I’d pay twelve dol- lars a week. To a regular salad maker well, believe me, I'd pay her some pay! Believe me!" “Ah!” Mabel Hatson drew a long, pe- culiar breath And then, like the authenticated office boy who saw the sign Boy Wanted and took it down and inside, saying simply ‘I'm here,” she leaned all her weight harder on the counter and said simply: “ Well, I'ma good one. I'll start in to-morrow morning.” A bit startled, the questing delicatessener drew back cautiously, as is the way of the male when he suddenly gets what he has clamored for. “Huh?” — doubtfully. “‘Ah— eh — can you 2 At the hesitating, skeptical query Mabel Hatson straightened herself, and with as- surance gazed calmly at the man. It was that calm assurance known indubitably by the typist who can type, the reporter who can report, the sculptor who can sculpt, the general who can command his men. It is born of innate consciousness of power, that assurance “If I can’t—you needn't pay me a cent for a week of my time,” she coolly declared; and matter-of-factly wiped a last drying tear from her left cheek. “Oh"’—doubt gave quick, obedient way to perception—“‘all right. Be sure’’—ea- gerly, whimperingly —‘‘to come to-morrow!” Some time later Wood Hatson, arriving home one evening just as the are lights lighted the dusk with gold rays, smiled kindly and assuringly at Mabel, who was busily putting the last touches to the ple asant dinner table ‘Well, old girl, we needn't worry any more, Armistice is signed. I'll be right here EVENING POST on the job of taking care of you.” Was there a touch of patronage in his earnest voice? Mabel nodded briefly as she whipped a hot dish from gas oven to dining room. ““Yes—I heard the whistles.””’ From un- der lowered eyelids she seemed to be cast- ing a peculiar look at her husband, which, however, he did not notice. ‘Though I'd sure like to have gone,” he regretted, unfolding his napkin. “‘ But-——’”’ Indubitably there was resignation as well as affection in the kind glance he gave her. And though resignation in its way is one of the most desirable emotions there are occasions when, like asafetida, it is offensive. Mabel Hatson flushed as she poured the coffee. “I’m glad, old girl; you needn’t feel frighte ned any 4 r,”’ he went on gently. T he war is ove ““Oh— the war.”’ Mabel Hatson shrugged that great thing aside as conversation in a manner decidedly slighting to its bulk. ‘I’m glad it’s over. But I might as well tell you at last, Wood, that I’m not not’’—in spite of herself a certain bitter- ness bubbled into wording—‘‘a dependent! Not any longer!” Mr. Wood Hatson registered bland non- understanding. Dear old girl, you'll always be my chief care.” “Oh, I don’t know. Mrs. Wood Hatson ungratefully tossed tartness of inflection back for gentle kindli- ness. And then she planted her two plump elbows—though not so plump as some weeks back!—on the table and cupped her face—-which was not so plump or so smug as some weeks back!—in her two palms, which likewise belonged to hands not so plump as some time back. Thus conven- iently postured, she looked quizzically at her husband staring kindly at her. “‘T guess I might as well tell you, Wood, now that I’m sure of myself, that for a good many weeks past I've been making good money—twenty dollars a week. And I’m going pretty soon to ask for a commission too. It’s due me—I’m making the busi- ness. . . What doing? Oh, salad making ¢ hiefly with a few other things , Her look at him became straight, chal- lenging As for him he set down his cup of coffee. Mabel!” *Yes—-and this house has been run just as— well, about as well as ever! At least January 25,1919 you, Wood, haven't noticed the difference!” And now in her voice hung a small trium- phant taunt. ““Why—no—I haven’t,” he admitted bewilderedly. But his glance took on in- credulity. Which nettled her. “I’m telling the truth, Wood Hatson!” sharply. “Why—why— Mabel, I didn’t say you aren’t’’—placation came hastily—‘ only only # “Only it’s hard for you to visualize me as—as not dependent!” she said cruelly. At which a small red flush dyed the in- credulous countenance of one American hus- band. “Why Mabel, my dear girl a “T’m banking my money,” she went on absently. “I’m buying bac k, too, the bonds we traded. I I just want ’em.’ “But “ “T’ve cut down the table expenses here a lot too. So you—you can bank that if you like.” ‘“*But tell me She went on abstractedly. “It certainly was hard at first to keep this apartment running and not be at home most of the day. But—come to think’’—this was be- ing said thoughtfully to herself, not to Wood— “come to think, it was worth that forty dollars I spent for tuition. I got tuition—if not what I thought I was pay- ing for!” He T husband finally got her self-absorbed ear. ‘‘Mabel, for some time I’ve noticed you were getting thinner, but I thought” pityingly—“it was worry, and it worried me. She glanced down with satisfaction at herself. ‘‘ Yes—I’ve noticed it. I’m a lot thinner. But not—from worry. From ex- ercise, man! And being too busy to eat so much!” Her brown eyes snapped with self- satisfaction. Wood saw them. His incredulity faded. She saw it fade. Whereat more snap ap- peared in her visual organs. She tossed her head— it was a trick of her far-back pretty girlhood. Wood stared at her. He continued to stare at her. And little by little his whole manner was changing. His eyes began to kindle—respectfully to kindle! “Why, Mabel! Why, Mabel, by jiminy, this is wonderful!” She had seen the kindling light in his eyes. And now she caught, not being an unbelievably stupid wife, that nice tone of startled homage in his voice which is to wifely or maiden ears like peanuts to the elephant. “Well,” she said with a small odd smile, ‘reve ille was sounded for me—and I woke T he look that he continued to give her grew in ardency— it was like an admiring lover's So that she flushed pink. And, luckily for all women, even the middle thirties are sof- tened by a soft pink flush! Wood Hatson got up, came round the table and kissed her as—as he had not kissed her for some years, She dropped eyelids to hide her eyes. And then Then Wood said as a matter of course “But now that the war is over there is no necessity for your keeping on with this work! It is not necessary.” “The war has nothing to do with it,” spiritedly she interrupted him. ‘‘ Wood, want to tell you something: It isn’t good for any human being to be dependent on another human’s vigor, mind or cireum- stances. To be at the mercy of another’s health or pocketbook or job! Ah—I could never be that again. I must—must feel able, if necessary, to stand on my own feet.” Wood Hatson stared. He didn’t alto- gether understand— being of the sex that is used to being at the mercy only of its own health, job and pocketbook. He tried to argue—-but his wife said calmly: ‘‘We won’t discuss it, dear. Let’s go to a show. We haven't been to one for weeks.”’ “Can you get ready?” he hesitated. “It’s late.” “I can get ready in ten minutes,” she re- torted. “‘ My dear man, I’ve had to learn to hustle—and cut out dilatoriness.”’ On the way out they met Mrs. Krowner. She nodded rather pityingly at Mabel. “By the way, I see you’re working, Mrs. Hatson. Hard in an office, I suppose?” Mabel Hatson smiled placidly. ‘Oh, dear, no— not in an office. I decided that I really didn’t care for office work!”

Page 65

" 4 _ f iy | | \ a ga ’ « ] { Y a . ~ — nae

THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 63 = ore, we <e rawr nail - es oe wench A 0 caleae? <Sighay ves ToT. . 1. _ ‘

Boe bs Ae tegs

a a Tae Out of the pt of WAR HE ashes of war are shoveled away, but the added equipment which war forced the nation to build is still standing. Out of this resource, America will forge a large future. Hundreds of millions of dollars are released for new enterprises. Listening ears hear the hammer and clank and whirr of peace-time production. It is the beginning of Something Better. * + + C' T in the trenches, banker and bricklayer, lawyer and farmer, professor and blacksmith, have joined in a common job—the biggest job in history—the blanket- ing of the globe with democracy. And the job is done. And now these men lay aside their weapons to return to industry. They have learned democracy in a bitter school, and it is natural that they should want the spirit of that for which they struggled and suffered to dominate the new era. And we, who stayed at home and produced the materials to sustain their fight—what of us? Have we kept pace with the ideals for which they fought?

* * * NOR years the Hydraulic Pressed Steel Company has produced steel products in ever-increasing quantities. ri YDRAULIC PRESSED STEEL COMPANY

The closing months of the war found this Company making immense quantities of war materials —75§,000 shell forgings a day, gun parts, aeroplane parts and steel prod ucts generally. And that job is done. During the eleven years of our existence we have constantly enjoyed a harmonious relationship with our people. Of the 5000 now in our employ, many are stock holders, a great many more share in profits, and our effort is always to build each man up to higher earning capac ity—for himself as well as the rest of us. Thus we are trying to express in the conduct of our own business that spirit of Democracy which this great world struggle has developed, and we have found that it leads to mutual content and profit. We are talking to you through these pages because we consider the adjustment of business to this new spirit of vital importance to Industry. It may be the means of getting us in touch with some who would exchange ideas in the working out of this problem, or it may serve as an introduction to those with whom we may later desire business re lations. Hypraviic Pressep STEEL COMPANY of i Le t eland

Page 66

THE SATURDAY EVENING POST January 25,1919 oy New February Greptthislest: 1 Stracciari Sings Theres The Best Record , . ”? == he"... a Long, Long Trail | py ef, Eee. Aaa niet Will you keep your WN waa uw.%%,, Stracciari’s glorious voice; the haunting mel- : a ie teal 2 wa te? ody and message of the**Long, Long Trail-’ Try step, with the rip ite —_ ” to imagine the heart-appeal of this splendid moment P There’s just AN record—then hear it, and find how it surpasses Records. even your keenest expectation. 49517—$1.50 " . Every hour brings nev to sing, new dance music foot. Columbia Records lar music while it’s new; and played by famous vaudeville. The February list o comprises 4 operatic sé and 6 new dance hits, 2 @ bers, 1 violoncello and Ask any Columbia deal Columbia Grafonola the 4 You will enjoy just a g Columbia treasure-house New Columbia Records on Sale me \\is - iJ « a Lo Fa “se 27, EOE Te Me) ry he Z ah f7 Y) Yh Lashanska's lovely 9 record of Louise’ Famous Love Song There are people who go to hear ! ‘*Louise’’ just for the joy of one wonder- ful song—“Depuis le Jour.’’ In all the realm of opera there is no more beautiful love song than this unrestrained outpour- ing of a young girl’s first affection. Lashanska’s rendering is perfect in its sympathy, surpassing in its brilliance. 49364 — $1.50 The French Army Band Plays Two Victorious War Marches. France’s victory over her foe ex cio — Fr} bs Co rings out, in every note of these COLUMBIA GRAPHOPHONE COMPA) London Office: 102 Clerkenwell Road, E. ¢ two pulse-quickening marches— **Marche Lorraine” and ‘‘Pere la Victoire."” When you hear them, you'll swing your hat again for France! A-6083 — $1.25 4 pa Ma Mu \ wit", ig "heady \ Me a, eee >. =

Page 67

THE SATURDAY EVENING POST Withestel=sasmreya s of the Best Music heart in tune, your feet in st, blithest music of the tH one real way—Columbia ‘Wa songs that everyone wants IC | thas calls to every tapping SI give you the new est popu- ; @ che world’s best music sung ; tars of opera, concert and Om f new Columbia Records sa@ lections, 14 popular song ® yand and 2 orchestral num- 4’ other instrumental gems. Mer to play for you on the @ »nes that mean most to you. Pa limpse into the wonderful €@ of melody and mirth. the 10th and 20th of Every Month “Youll Find Old Dixieland in France” Here’s a Van and Schenck Dixie Song with a decidedly novel slant. “Instead of picking melons off the vine, they’re picking Germans off the Rhine.”’ A real tribute to the ‘‘Smoke Brigades” that fought so bravely Over There. A-2665 — 85c yf y} Aint Got Wear ty Yet™ A song of Johnny Dunn who sailed away to fight the Hun —and “‘ain’t got weary yet!”’ melodious laughter in Johnny’s merry adventures in France. On the back, ‘‘Would You Rather Be a Colonel With an Eagle on Your Shoulder, or a Private With a Chicken on Your Knee?”’ A A-2669 — 85¢ There’s a gale of Jn Lover's Song— “Till We Meet Again’ __ | Rarely have exquisite melody and appealing words been so beauti- fully united in a song of war-time sentiment. In millions of American homes today the dreams this song expresses are happily coming true. A-2668 — 85c OTHER FEBRUARY HITS The Rose of No Man’s Land (Hugh Donovan) i - : P ; { A-2670 Over Yonder Where the Lilies Grow (Henry Burr) \ 85¢ The Pickaninny’s Paradise — Medley Fox-trot a ? - Me PS { A-6086 My Baby Boy _ Medley One-Step \ Prince - Band ( $1.25 Columbia G rafonolas, Naval-Cadets March — Bell Solo with Band Accompaniment o © © «© 86000 86 Standard Moree ae Albinos Polka — Xylophone with Band Accompaniment : ‘= = | 85¢ signs up to $2100. TR tee eee Kas ee CN a ae eet AS Ui de tarist al aed By =” ig oe ae

Page 68

66 THE SATURDAY EVENING POST January 25,1919

EEE areas Oz protection in war; our depend- ence in peace—brave youn? American manhood, which now turns vizorously from fhat }reatest of all work, so nobly done, and eagerly an- swers: Ready,’ for his bi?, job at home.

Not a genuine LEE UNION-ALL unless this design is embossed on the buttons. Look for it. Remember there is only one UNION-ALL, the LEE

smon @C ssaoe | he H. D. Lee Mercantile Co Union-A Hs Salina, Kans. South Bend, Ind. TRADE MARK REG. U, S.[ PAT. OFF. Trenton, N. J. <a om ONE PIECE Like Your Uni on Suit

Page 69

re THE SATURDAY EVENING POST ILLUSTRATED Br . . D. By Albert Payson JerAume KOERNER HE} over,”’ an- nounced Pri- vate Maclay as he rubbed gruntingly at a stubborn blur on his rifle barrel “‘when it’s all over I have just one am- bition I’m going to satisfy—if it costs me every red cent I’ve got.” Maclay addressed the world at large or such part of it as was in earshot, namely, seven fel- low privates of his company lounging with him in front of the half-wrecked stucco barn which served as company barracks during the regiment’srest billet at the bomb-bitten Lorraine village. None of thes tired loungers showed any breat! less interest in hear- ing the tale of their comrade’s ambition Yet Maclay rubbed the harder at the blurred spot and rambled on. “2 : & “T can stand the me on , Ps. Sie drill. I can stand > the hikes. I can a stand being a targ« I can stand the whole merry chore. And I kind of like some parts of it. But keeping the gun n “1 and shampooed and massaged so it will pass ins] 1 in wet weather—well, maybe there’s some who enjoy it, but I’d rather take in it’s all a back stairs to clean He bent again to his task, breathing on the blurred spot and then polishing the surface until the greasy rag in his fist seemed ready to smoke. After which, scowling at the unresponsive weapon, he proceeded: ‘‘Here’s my ambition: When this war’s over I’m going to scrape together enough cash to buy this rifle. I’m going to take it home with me. I'm going to tie it out under the rain spout in my back yard. Then on wet nights I’m going to snuggle down in my dry bunk and yell out of the window to it: ‘Rust, blame ye, rust! Rust till you’re black in the face and till your lock and your trigger are stuck and your barrel’s chock-full of red! Keep on rusting till doomsday! You’ve had your last cleaning!’ Then I'll “ One of his hearers interrupted the gloating fantasy with a chuckle of approbation. Another of them snorted like an angry horse, seemed about to break into violent rebuke, then checked himself and got to his feet. Glowering dourly on the ruminative Maclay he slouched off from the group and down the shell-pocked street. Cassius Wyble chose this abrupt exit as the one safe retort to Maclay’s ballistic blasphemy. If he had answered the ribald, as impulse urged him to, Wyble would have had another miserable session in the guazdhouse; while Maclay must needs have shifted his abiding place to the billet hospital. 3ut Cash Wyble was breaking himself of the guardhouse habit. Months had passed since he had paid his last visit And he did not desire further stay in such ignominious quarters—even for the joy of committing mayhem on the man who had just put himself so alluringly within the reach of such punishment. Urge upon a sculptor the fun of hammering the head of the Venus de Milo into the same battered remnants as her arms. Suggest to a bibliophile that his rarest Elzevir would tear into splendid pipe-lighters. And perhaps you may earn from one of the two devotees some fraction of the enraged contempt which Cash was just then nourishing against the man who planned to ruin his rifle. To Cassius Wyble a good rifle was sacred—a thing to be guarded and treasured past all else; to be nursed and humored and tended with a care in which love and rever- ence had equal share. His own army rifle glowed and shone in a way to warm the heart of the most rigid inspector to the hoosgow. 3 4 ~ wwe % — hr Back in the West , irginia mountains, whence Cash had been snared b vy a draft net and tossed protestingly into the Army, the Wy bk family rifle had been treated more like a pricele 3 Me irloom thar like an old-fashioned de ign of steel and walnut. Its whims had been indulged. Its barrel, without and within, had been kept speckless, It lock had fairly bubbled with fatness of oil. And the wonderful newfangled army rifle apportioned to him had seemed to Cash the apotheosis of perfe« tion. He had learned to love it. He spent three times as n or on its upkeep as any other man in his company set aside for furbishing his whol le equipment And now this ‘“‘foreigner’’—this Maclay—this ou lander from somewhere in the bottomlands of Virs where city folk dwelt—this spindle-legged mocker—had blasphemed the Wyble gods! ‘Maybe he ain’t the only one that’s got ‘ambition mumbled Cash in his wrathful heart. ‘‘ Maybe I got one too. Maybe I got a ‘ambition’ to traipse dowr to where he lives to, arter the war, an’ find that pore abused rifle he’ + on stroy yped to the rain spout, an’ clean it up good, an’ the winder an’ blow Maclay ther shove its muzzle in through fool head off’n his peat in’ little body! I reckon I'd only jest need to tell why I done it to make any maountain Jury * maybe pension me too.” turn me loose; Cheered a little by thi bright dream Casn pursued h slouching way song the street center. Here and there, as he passed, a French housewife at door or window would stop her work to cast a curious glance at the mountaineer’ lankily long figure and leathern face Sut of their glance Cash was all unaware. He was not interested eigners. Since he had proved by per onal test that they had never so much as learned to speak, and that communicated with one another by means of a funny jumble of sounds that could not possibly contain real words—since then Wyble had regarded them as hopeles ignorant if not really insane. And in either case he had no further interest in them, classing them with army mule and Germans and other creatures beneath the social notice of a man of his mental caliber He passed on, beyond the end of the short street and out into the road which was its continuation. Wyble was going nowhere in particular. Hence his slouch had not the mile-eating swing to it that a year in the army had taught him. All he wanted to do just now was to compose his mind to an extent that would keep him safe from thrashing Maclay on his return to barracks. He yearned to hammer the desecrater of his rifle idols. And he knew that an ‘ ordinary stand-up fight between two well-matched private was usually winked at by company com manders; providing always that such a fight was W aged in official privacy. But he and little Maclay were any- thing but well matched. Moreover, ‘ash’s knowledge of fights had been ac quired in his native mountains, where tactics had been handed down from generation to gen eration of the hill folk. Such contests were marvelously liberal in the matter of rule Ss Eve ry of- fensive portion of the body from teet! to toenails might lawfully be brought into action, And the mere fact that one man was down erved as incentive rather than a deter rent to his foe Fight of this kind were discouraged right rigidly in the Army; as more that one ¢ xile d West \ ir yinian mountaineer had learned to hi orrow And Wyble’sangry brain Maer a **Now Yuh've Got it Back—Whatcha Lottin’ on Doin’ With It? When YousAll Git Home, I Mean. Speak Up, Right Quick!" picetured what like after such a go; also the grindingly harsh guardhouse term that w Cash had fought that way once, and once o1 ince hi arrival in France, That one fig! had left a Prussia: colone} dead in his own dugout. Wyble knew no other | i of fighting. At least he knew no other way well enough t trust his wildcat temps » follow it e his blood sho be afire with the joy of conflict Hence, he must forgo hi yearning Just the same, the g ince rankled 1 it rankled deep and deeper. Blessed h cinem magina I and vho le 1 of ‘ f hur he ilized a eautiful arn ril ru g and tting beneatt il ou hile cker 1 IM ight | ne gr Maclay to chuckle at the weapon's degradati Not for ar int d t occur to him to question tl genuinene of Ma iimed ambition that the man would try to full [r iirm of ind nation ¢ h yearnes he yht block the schen by |] ng forever i! i intil M i I i be shot Wy! e came ) , ' li methil apparer had ha ed Cash did } vhat t Bu A‘ ym gir pave igh nervesat turing yant and brought hin br i} tl to a standstill in the middle of the rutty road: Then all at onee he reaiized And the realization in creased instead of lesse I be derment Nothing had happened. But sor ng had stopped happening ht, the air had shaken unceasingly to the roar of gu Sometime louder, ometime lower! the arring imi had not once been still. Sometime | me | nie point, sometimes from another ome nes from ever where—but always from somewhere And now it eleven o'clock on t N el er mor Ing, every gun, as D ommor! nse ed its cla gor Not gradually but instant ror i lirectior the racket ended And the tranye let mot por Wyble’s bombardmet eyed $s ! t Ipor ! nerves of an ocean voyager the topp 1 the propeller “‘Suthin’s happened!’ declared Cash aloud and with great positiveness To his regiment—as to many another b dy billeted out-of-the-way nooks back of the Front—no word had come heralding the armistice. Or if such word had been t | become know t« ( received by officer t had no listed mer! Continued on Page 70

Page 70

68 GooDy THE SATURDAY EVENING POST OSTON to BOSTON See ) Goodyear motor transports, equipped with Goodyear Pneumatic Cord Truck Tires, recently crossed the continent twice, carrying full loads from Boston to San Fran- cisco and returning by way of Los Angeles. Before starting this 7,763-mile journey, they had delivered thousands of miles of hard serv- ice on their regular Akron-to-Boston route. And they were given no special preparation for the coast-to-coast haul. Yet traveling 71.5 per cent of the distance over unimproved roads and in wagon trails, they completed the round trip in 24 days, 1 hour and 55 minutes of actual running, as shown by the recordograph. Here, then, is a remarkable demonstration of the ability of motor trucks, equipped with Goodyear Pneumatic Cord ‘Truck ‘Tires, to negotiate the worst kinds of going found anywhere. The traction of these tires enabled the heavily burdened trucks to roll through hub-deep mud in places where most passenger cars did not attempt the grind. Indeed, the trucks actually made better time over rocky stretches and in deep sand than the passenger car that accompanied them. Then, on wide detours across fields and creek beds, the pneumatics helped the transports to pull out of places that would have mired solid tires. January 25,1919

Page 71

THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 69 On top of that, they enabled the trucks, in crossing Many mountains, to climb grades up to 22 per cent. On these, solid tires would have stalled because of lack of traction. In making this long jaunt, which would have been positively impossible with solid-tire- equipped trucks, the Goodyear drivers averaged 13'% miles per hour for the entire circuit. Three of their tires ran all the way to San Francisco on original air. Unquestionably due to the cushioning power! of the big Goodyear Pneumatics, the huge THE GOODYEAR TIRE & Rt | HANI — ee i — > he, o MES 2% _ _ Copyright 1919, by The Goodyear Tire & Rubber Co. via San Francisco and Los Angeles motor freighters remained remarkably free from breakage and vibration troubles. Only two broken parts, a spring and a brake rod, were recorded and these snapped during an accident. In total, this memorable performance of these pioneering tires points to their immense ad- vantages for either highway hauling or off- the-road work. It particularly calls attention to the way Goodyear Pneumatic Cord Truck ‘Tires pro- tect trucks and loads, and to their very tough construction. BBER COMPANY, AKRON, OHIO | I HUAI IAN

Page 72

70 THE SATURDAY EVENING POST (Continued from Page 67 Up the bumpy roadway toward the village chugged a wt disreputable little motor car with the muffler cut out. One man in muddy khaki was the car’s sole occupant, As he drew near Cash recognized the chauffeur as a corre- pondent who had visited the regiment’s quarters from time to time. Wyble did not at all know what might be the duties of correspondents, apart from asking nosy questions of bored West Virginia mountaineers who had no desire to talk to them. But he knew such men were not hedged in by the mysterious dignity which encompasses an officer, and that they might be hailed familiarly with- out the risk of a call-down. Wherefore he now stopped the car by the simple expedient of stepping into the very center of the narrow byroad and standing there. The sharp application of the emergency brake and a rock ridge in the bed of the road combined to save Cash from accident. At the same time it did queer things to the gears and other inner workings of the long-suffering little car “Say!” hailed Wyble, forestalling turgid oratory from the jarred driver. “Say! What's all the guns quittin’ for? What's th’ idee?” The correspondent forgot his indignation in the zest for spreading news “Haven't you boys heard?” he asked in surprise. ‘The armistice went into ef- fect ateleven. I thought everybody “s “What happéned at eleven?” de- manded Cash, to whom the word “‘armis- tice’’ was as strange as French itself, He did not like to have his very natural curiosity balked by a stuck-up foreign word in the mouth of a stuck-up automobile jor key. “What happened? sy he repeated crossly. ‘Speak United States, can’t yuh?” s The correspondent had forgathered more than once with the mountaineer He thus had an inkling of their resent ment at words they do not understand, and he proceeded to simplify. In super direct language he explained that fought out Germany had asked for a breathing space wherein to talk peace; and that the Allies had consented tir matters so that their foes could not re arranging sume fighting. The truce had gone into diate 0s Wee Weather = Wat, effect a few minutes earlier. Staats Chase dome he “That means the war is over!” fin- Enjoy It”’ ished the correspondent If he had expected Cassius Wyble to leap high in air and whoop in ecstasy and stamp on his hat at such glad tidings, the correspondent was doomed to bitter disappoint ment. Not a muscle in Cash's glum leathern face twitched For a moment he did not speak. Then he said in patronizing approval: “That's all right. Let it be over if it's a mind to, I ain't kickin’ none He turned about and strolled back toward camp. The correspondent was so disgusted with the lout’s reception of the greatest news the world had ever known that he did not offer Wyble a lift in his car, but sped bumpily along at top speed to carry his golden tidings to more apprecia tive hearers Cash meantime plodded along in a shimmering dream. Being a mountaineer and a Wyble, nothing short of a quart of moonshine or a swirl of maniac rage had the power to stir him to outward semblance of enthusiasm. But inwardly he was in the seventh paradise The war was over! That meant— if it meant anything that he could go home. And the man thrilled to the very quick He had spent more than a year in inexpressible craving to return to the slab shack on his stony mountain farm, thirty-odd miles from the nearest railroad, in the utter most hinterland of the West Virginia mountains. In the long nights, in the longer marches, in battle, in billet, in bivouac, his longing for home had gnawed incessantly into the very soul of him Here in the army, it is true, he wore better clothes, ate more and better food and had more ready money than he or any of his neighbors had enjoyed for countless generations. Here too he had had a sight of the great world, the society of wiser and better- bred men than himself, and a role in history’s mightiest cosmic drama. All of which meant nothing—and less than nothing-—to the flint-eyed man, who was as homesick as a lost child He was now leaving a life which to him spelled undreamed-of luxury. He was going back to a starve-crow rock farm and to squalor and to corn pone and to discom- fort and to a frequently empty stomach. He was going to a region where life had always been and always must be a meagerly sordid struggle, where the future held nothing but toil and poverty And Cash Wyble rejoiced thereat as never in all his thirty lean years he had rejoiced. Just now he would not have changed places with the King of England; not even with the governor of West Virginia himself, "Keeping the Gan Manicured and Shampoced and Mas: saged So it Will Pass Inspec« Mildly he was glad his side had won the war, for a belated sense of patriotism had long ago found its way into his soul. But his pride in the victory was as nothing, in that first flush, compared to the bliss of knowing he was going home. Given a bare pint of fiery moonshine whisky at that mo- ment, Cassius Wyble would have lifted his voice in song—an effeminate weakness which, as all folk know, is beneath the dignity of any grown man, unless he be very drunk indeed or in attendance at camp meeting or singing school. Cash's slouching gait involuntarily quickened to a stride. Mentally he was already packing his kit and marching to the homebound steamboat. He wondered whether the boys were to start for America that day or whether official red tape would keep them in exile until sometime later in the week. He had reéntered the village. But it was not the same somnolent place he had left a half hour earlier. The corre- spondent’s news had spread. The regiment thereupon had gone noisily insane. Cash looked on in tolerant amuse- ment at the antics of his fellow a» soldiers as they danced madly in the open street and swatted one another on the back and filled the air with a raucous jubi- Jation which those in authority were wise enough to leave un- checked. The insane rejoicing chimed in pleasantly enough with Wyble’s mood. And he viewed it with calm approval. But suddenly his relaxed mouth corners tightened, In the center of a group of howling privates capered little Maclay. The sight of him was enough to stem the first silent flood of Cash Wyble’s ecstasy and to bring back a bad-tasting memory. In the rapture of learning that he was going home Cash had quite forgotten Maclay’s jocund plans for the disposal and the despoiling of a sacred army rifle. The war was over. Maclay too would ve going home. Nothing could possibly prevent the little desecrater now from executing his threat of buying his rifle and ruining its glorious efficiency. i The thought turned Wyble sick. It brought back to him the recently ban- ished flame of righteous anger. It brought also a grimly adamant resolve, a resolve whose details needed working out. So dodging the revelers and going to his own bunk Cash proceeded to these details. In his hot thoughts he saw Maclay going to the company commander or to the quartermaster or to whomsoever had power to grant the boon—and begging hypocritically for the privilege of buying his own rifle. He heard the favor granted, perhaps with a word of approval for such praise- worthy sentiment. And presently that gallant weapon would be in the power of the man who would defile its sheen and destroy its mysteriously exquisite mechanism. Cash turned from tan to an ugly purple at the picture he conjured up, Of course he knew he could go to head- quarters himself and lodge there his information as to the base use which Maclay designed for the rifle. That would put an instant stop to any danger of the sale; and it might even bring heavy punishment on the buyer. But Wyble belonged to a clan and to a race to whom the betrayal of a foe to the authorities is the Unpardonable Sin. The moun- taineers will carry on blithely a murderous family feud into the second and the third generations. But as rare as a white crow is the feudist who takes to the law any informa- tion that can harm his enemy. He pays his own bills, even as Cash Wyble now decided he must pay his. And again Cash pondered as to ways and means. An hour later he sought and obtained audience with his company commander. Speaking slowly his hard-rehearsed speech Wyble began: “‘Seein’ the war is done I'd like to tote home suthin’, cap. Will you-all stop enough money out of my pay to let me buy me a army rifle with?” “You mean, when you're mustered out you would like to buy your rifle from the Government, to take home as a souvenir?” asked the captain, who thought he was begin- ning to understand mountaineer nature and who prided himself a bit on the achievement. “Is that it?” “Yes, suh. No, suh,” returned Cash, his rehearsed speech somewhat thrown out by the question. ‘That is, cap, I’m here to ask leave to buy—to buy—to trade in a month's pay for Private Maclay’s rifle, cap.” The company commander stared in dense amaze. His vaunted knowledge of mountaineer nature was sent flying to all points of the compass. Mistaking the captain’s blank gaze for a mask wherein was hidden the shrewdness of a bargainer, Cash went on: “T ain't hagglin’ over the price, cap. If my offer ain’t January 25,1919 enough, jes’ you-all banter me up to the right sum. I'll pay it if I e’n raise the money. An’ most like I can. “What in blue blazes do you want of Private Maclay’s rifle?’ exploded the captain. ‘It’s of the same make as your own. Besides, how do you know Maclay may not want to buy it—if such a thing is allowed when the army is mustered out? Perhaps he ——”’ “Yes, suh,”” Wyble made stiff answer. And in full and cold realization of his own breach of etiquette he saluted and marched away while his captain was in the very middle of,a sentence. The captain did not recall or reprove him, but stood gaping after the depart- ing ramrod figure and wondering gloomily if ever he could boast again of having the remotest grasp of mountaineer nature. Cash had cut short the interview for two very good reasons: First, because he foresaw a collapse of his ill- held temper; second, because his experience in crossroads dickering had given him a translation of the captain’s cryptic query: ‘‘How do you know Maclay may not want to buy it?” That explained everything. Maclay had got to the captain ahead of him. He had bought his rifle or the promise of it. Hence the captain’s question and his open uneasiness. Yes, Maclay had been ahead of him. It was too late tosave the beautiful weapon from mutilation. At least — Next morning Private Maclay was in sad tribulation. His rifle had vanished. It had been in its place, he averred loud and often, on the preceding night. And now it was gone. If any Smart Aleck was playing a measly joke on him the said Smart Aleck was liable to do a hoosgow stretch, besides a nice spell of kitchen police. In transit, in battle, especially in retreat, a soldier's rifle may readily be lost. But in billet the thing is prac- tically unheard of. Wherefore the loss caused a decided stir in company barracks and a report of it must soon be duly forwarded to those higher up—a fact which vexed the company commander past belief. The captain took the affair to heart as reflecting on his own power of discipline. He poured his annoyance into the sympathizing ear of Top Sergeant Mahan—formerly of the Regular Army and a veteran whose wisdom equaled his length of service. Mahan, however, threw no light on the mystery, even when the captain chanced to mention as an odd coinci- dence Wyble’s desire to buy the rifle Yet that very day Mahan unearthed the stock of the lost weapon from a cunningly devised hiding place in Cash Wyble’s kit. Further brief search revealed the rifle’s barrel, deep-buried in Cash's bunk. Both sections of the stolen gun were beautifully oiled; in fact, were in far better condition than ever Maclay had kept them. Not that that could count in any way in the thief’s favor. Mahan in duty bound carried the recovered booty to the captain. He did so by stealth. And he found the com- pany commander bemusedly pondering over a dirty wad of money—thirty dollars in all—which he had just found lying in a still dirtier envelope on his table when he had returned from regimental headquarters. No word of writing had been inclosed with the money; which was not strange, since reading and writing were occult arts to Cash Wyble, as to all his mountain ancestors, Cash meanwhile was receiving a second setback to the happiness that had been his at prospect of going home. No sooner had he salvaged Maclay’s rifle from peril of destruc- tion than he ran into fresh distress. He had sauntered up to a clump of doughboys who were scanning a printed notice newly posted on a blank wall. For the benefit of those who, like Cash, could not read, someone was proclaiming aloud the bulletin’s message. The paper was a copy of a general order issued broadcast on the previous day. Wyble’s careless footsteps brought him within earshot just as the reader finished a paragraph whose last words were “‘ headquarters under guard.” This savored of hoosgow memories and Cash listened more interestedly as the reading continued. “Fifth: Every emphasis will be laid on the fact that the arrangement is an armistice only, and not a peace. ‘Sixth: There must not be the slightest relaxation of vigilance. Troops must be prepared at any moment for further operations.” Cassius Wyble did not wait to hear more. He stamped back to barracks and sat down on the edge of his bunk. Half of the order’s verbiage had been unintelligible to him by reason of its long and unfamiliar words. But he had grasped the news that he and the others must be prepared to go back into the slime of the trenches at a moment’s notice; and that peace had not really arrived at all. This jolt gave the final wrecking impetus to Wyble’s harrowed nerves and self-control. It gave him vaguely delirious cravings toward homicide. What a liar that correspondent must have been! And his yarn about the war's being over had fooled not Cash alone, but the whole command! (Concluded on Page 74)

Page 73

Nae Eo THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 71 SIETC CTs. World THE JUVENILE SHOE CORPORATION OF AMERICA IS THE FOOTWEAR SPECIALIST TO THE CHILDREN OF ALL NATIONS. THE GREAT FACTORIES OF THIS CORPORATION ARE ORGANIZED, EQUIPPED AND OPERATED WITH BUT A SINGLE IDEAL: TO MANUFACTURE THE VERY BEST SHOES IN ALL THE WORLD, FOR THE CHILDREN OF ALL THE WORLD, QUALITY, STYLE. FIT ANG THE LAW OF ORTHO- PAEDICS ARE BUILT INTO FINE LEATHER FOOTWEAR THAT GIVES COMFORT AND SHAPELY CONTOUR TO THE GROWING FOOT, GOODYEAR WELTED AND GOODYEAR STITCHED FOR GIRLS AND BOYS OF ALL AGES. BLACK KID, BLACK AND MAHOGANY CALF, PATENT LEATHER AND WHITE BUCK, SPECIAL FEATURES THE ORTHOPAEDIC LAST GIVES FULL TOE ROOM AND PREVENTS ANY POSSIBLE BLEMISH TO GROWING FEET TRIM, NOISELESS, FLEXIBLE VELVET OAK ANTI-SLIP SOLES, WITH EVEN BOTTOM SURFACE THAT INSURES UNIFORM WEAR GOODYEAR STITCHED SHOES ARE FREE FROM WAX, THREADS OR TACKS ON THE INSIDE, PREVENTING INJURY TO TENDER FEET AND MINIMIZING WEAR ON STOCKINGS THE WOODEN PEGSON TOP LIFTS OF HEELED SHOES PREVENT SCRATCHING OF POLISHED FLOORS. LEATHER IN BOX TOES IS FLESH SIDE UP —IF IT GETS WET IT CANNOT CURL DOWN AND HURT THE FOOT SOLE LEATHER COUNTERS. FAST COLOR HOOKS AND EYELETS. THREE TO TWELVE DOLLARS "THE QUALITY IS HIGHER THAN THE PRICE” THE JUVENILE SHOE CORPORATION OF AMERICA NEW YORK CITY SAINT LOUIS SAN FRANCISCO ONE ENTIRE FACTORY IS DEV TO THIS PARTICULAR TYPE OF YEAR STITCHED, FLEXIBLE OAK SOLED SHOE. IT 1S MADE IN ALL STYLES; LACE AND BUTTON, HIGH ANO LOW, UNDER THESE GRANDS: € TWINS” PLAYHOUSE". “PUNCH & JUDY" “FAIRY TALE” AND “DIXIE PLAY SHOE”. GENUINE JUVENILE SHOE SYSTEM FOOT- WEAR IS SOLD ALL OVER THE WORLD UNDER THE FOLLOWING TRADE-MARKS: PCO us Ot OFF Handa

Page 74

~J THE SATURDAY EVENING POST January 25,1919 RBORUNDUM IN THE SERVICE WENTY-FIVE years ago And_ in all this remarkable develop- in a tinv electric furnace ment Carborundum has led the way. *- te the first Carborund um Carborundum was the first artificial abrasive. tv fh mili crystals were produced, and the story of modern abrasives began. Like most new products it was ridi- culed in the early days. Up to that oe grinding wheels and Many Scientists and Engineers de- other abrasive materials were the prod- clared that no manufactured abrasive uct of the stone quarry and the mine. could ever equal nature’s product. Today the modern abrasive is born in Today nearly ninety per cent of all great electric furnaces at the almost un- abrasives are products of the electric fur- believable temperature of 5,000 degrees nace and the use of abrasive materials has ? Fahrenheit—a temperature made pos- increased a thousand fold. sible commercially only through the use Hundreds of operations formerly per- of the tremendous power generated by formed by steel tools are now done bet- Niagara Falls ter, more quickly and more economically The grindstone of our boyhood days by grinding wheels. marvelous develop- And hundreds of other operations that has undergone a could not have been successfully executed ment. ae i os by steel tools are now made possible by Grinding has become an essential in the hard, fast cutting, accurately graded modern industry products of the electric furnace. — Side by side with high speed steel and Today Carborundum products grind, automatic machine tools the grinding finish, shape, sharpen, sand or polish every wheel has made possible modern stand- manufactured article—or they grind into shape the tools that fashion these articles. ards of precision and production. Grinding and Finishing Rolls Carborundum Products in the Foundry . 2 CARB OR UN DUM COMPAN Y ’ \ U \ 4 t 4 , | fa | e | zs { + e \

Page 75

THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 73 PRODUCTS - OF INDUSTRY Carborundum and its twin product Aloxite have developed into mighty fac- tors in modern industry. Krom snagging the roughest castings to grinding and polishing gems; from erinding car wheels to buffing leather or moulding marble; from cutting glass to sharpening a razor or performing the delicate operations of the dentist they are broadening the scope of industry and increasing its effi iency. In fact so intimately and vitally do Carborundum products enter into the affairs of industrial, commercial and life that we have decided even family upon this series of advertisements illus trating and describing their service to mankind. This might almost be called the abra- sive age and we, who are living in it, ought to know and appreciate what a Bu! and Scouring Soles and Heels of Shoes large part abrasives play in our affairs. In future issues we expect to illus- trate the use of Carborundum products in a few of the more important industries. Carborundum Products have Revolution- ized the Work of Cutting, Surfacing and Shaping Marble and Carborund | Ston the Tools of the World Rubbi wn Avhothebile Bodig Eas are Among the Vital Essential ‘in the Automobile Shaping and Sharpening Saws NMIAGAKE 2 en ee Ree ce a eos

Page 76

74 (Cencluded from Page 70) Here was the truth at last. Cash knew it must be true, because it was printed. It innounced that peace had not yet come. "hat meant Cash was no nearer home than he had been a year ago. It meant his thrills at prospect of going back to his ram- hackle hovel must give place once more to the old gnawing homesickness. It meant too that he had wantonly thrown away thirty precious dollars in buying Maclay’ rifle The weapon had been in no danger of desecration Wyble reached morosely down into his bunk for the oiled barrel of his two-piece plunder. It was not there. Before he could fully grasp the sense of his loss someone came into the long room and advanced toward him It was Top Sergeant Mahan The top sergeant had been spending an excessively talkative—not to say argu- mentatively eloquent—half hour with his company commander. The captain had poken largely and warmly of court-martial and of military prison and of disenfran- chisement for the rifle thief And Mahan had let him talk himself out before venturing to point out the thief’s crude ideas of honesty in paying thirty dol- lars, anonymously, for a rifle that was worth far less. The top sergeant had ex- patiated on the unreadableness of moun taineer character, and had touched on the fact that Cash Wyble was not only the best hot in the brigade but kept his rifle in a condition that was the despairing envy of the rest of the company Iie went on to mention the theme $ company honor, and to dilate on the a fair's basis for mirth should the tale of i theft become known. Respectfully, yet with infinite wisdom, Mahan labored with his sulkily listening superior; and at last came away with the sweet knowledge that he had won an unconfessed victory. It was an hour for relaxation of discipline-—de- spite the wording of the general order. Moreover, the captain had boundless faith in his elderly top sergeant’s judgment—a faith that had been justified in a hundred complications One feature of the affair puzzled even wise old Mahan. He could not for the life of him guess why Cash had risked prison and had squandered a month's pay in order to possess himself of another man’s rifle which was not ope whit better than his own, and with which he could have no per- sonal association The more Mahan mulled over it the less sense did it make to him And yet there must be some logical reason for the seeming freak Wyble w is not a fool He did noth ing without cause, though the cause might often be obscure to a nonmountaineer mind As Mahan approached him Cash hastily withdrew his exploring hand from the re cesses of his bunk If you're looking for the barrel of Maclay’s vifle,”” said the top sergeant off handedly, “1 can save you the bother It isn’t there. I've just turned it over to Maclay, along with its stock And the thing I'm wondering about now is whether to report that it was mislaid by accident and found again or to report that it was stolen. You see,"’ he went on confidingly, “it either means that Maclay must be reprimanded for carelessness or—or that someone else must take a term in a military prison for theft. Quite a problem, isn’t it?” Cash made no answer. His leathern face began very slowly to turn brick color. His mouth contracted to a flat line; and he gazed on the pleasantly voluble top ser- geant from between lids so narrowed that his veiled eyes glinted from behind them like slitted glass Mahan waited patiently for the reply that did not come. Then he drew forth a wad of crumpled and unsavory-looking money ‘| found that lying on your bunk, a while back, Wyble,’ he remarked shame- lessly. “Better take it. A month's pay comes in handy sometimes.” Craftily Wyble put his tight-gripped fists behind his back, shaking his head. ‘Il didn’t lose no month’s pay any- wheres,"” he muttered, his throat dry and contracted, “Keep it. "Tain’t mine.” I wonder,”’ mused the top sergeant, lay- ing the money on the bunk, “I really won- der now which of us two would yank in the blue ribbon in a Pedigreed Liars show.” Cash snarled noiselessly, a yellowish eye tooth coming momentarily into sight from behind his hard line of upper lip. Mahan did not notice the sneer. He was squinting, company THE SATURDAY inspectorwise, adown the cheerlessly orderly double line of cots. Presently Wyble’s nerves buckled under the tension. “Whatcha want?” he snapped. “ What- cha aimin’ to do? Huh?” Still Mahan did not speak but continued his study of the bunks. He observed the nerve strain of his opponent and hoped to lure Wyble into a flurry of wrathful words, during whose course some fragment of the mystery’s solution would out. “Peace ain't come, arter all,” grunted Cash in desperate effort to change the sub- ject. ‘‘Gin’r’] orders says so. Hell’s luck, ain’t it?” Patiently Mahan explained the new status of the war. But he could see Wyble was not half heeding. And he himself fell silent. The top sergeant longed to know why the mountaineer had risked so much for Mac- lay’s rifle. And he felt that a single direct question would dam permanently the foun- tain of information. Cassius Wyble of a sudden lurched to his feet and bolted from the dormitory. In the outer doorway leading to the street he col- lided with three fellow doughboys of his company. One of them was Maclay. Cash was for passing the trio without speaking. The sight of Maclay was sending hot surges through his overtaxed brain. But Maclay halted him, remarking: “I got my rifle back again. Sergeant Mahan found it and turned it back tome. Funny, wasn’t it? He wouldn’t say where he came across it.” “Now yuh’ve got it back,” said Cash, speaking in a droning monotone that was not sweet to hear—‘‘now yuh've got it back—whatcha lottin’ on doin’ with it? When you-all git home, I mean. Speak up, right quick! "Cause I want to know. Are you-all still projectin’ to put it under the rain spout an’ spoil it up? ’Cause, if yuh are Top Sergeant Mahan whistled low and meditatively. Following from the barracks at Cash's heels he caught the query; and it told him everything a sagacious man needed to know. Maclay was laughing far too loudly to hear the whistle; and his sonorous mirth drowned it for the others. Perhaps nothing else gives a man more true joy than to have some choice morsel of his wit treasured in the memory of another and cast appreci- atively back at him after many days. That the glum mountaineer should have remem- bered his quip about the rifle and the rain spout tickled Maclay’s vanity to the point of cachinnation. The hearty laugh ended, he said: “Oh, I've changed my mind about rusting the old pest. That's too easy a death. I’m going to chop up its butt for kindling, and use the barrel for a fire poker. Then I'll knock off the lock and He got no farther in his windily humor- ous program, for something between a whirlwind and a wildcat had pounced upon him. A second or so later two husky privates and Top Sergeant Mahan were seeking frantically to pry Cash Wyble loose from something on the ground beneath him, something that fought as futilely in his maniac clutches as a sick mouse in the jaws of a trench terrier. Mouthing, snarling, wholly beside him- self, Cash Wyble was torn away from his fiercely mauled victim. The entire onslaught had taken less than ten seconds; and it had been accompanied by so little noise that no crowd had gath- ered “Bring him in here!” ordered Mahan, pointing to the empty barrack room “Wyble, I mean. Maclay will stand with- out hitching.” The two privates, in whose practiced grip the mountaineer was writhing, propelled their captive through the doorway. Ma- clay staggered to his feet —dizzy, bleeding, agasp, scarce realizing what had happened to him. Confronting the tousled victim was Top Sergeant Mahan. “Go and wash up!” sternly ordered the topsergeant. ‘ And be thankful you weren't alone with that man when you sprung your fool joke! Be thankful, too, if word doesn’t ” EVENING POST get to headquarters that you were planning to destroy government property.’ “I was—I was only just joking!” sput- tered Maclay. “I never — “It’s a bum joke,” retorted Mahan. “And with so many witnesses it was a dangerous one too. Go and wash up!” Leaving the much-scared Maclay he fol- lowed the privates and their prisoner into the bunk room. There he found the two, making a none-too-successful struggle to hold Wyble down on a cot. “Let go of him,’’ Mahan tersely bade them, “and get out. Keep your mouths shut too!” Cautiously the men released their hold on the mountaineer. Cash started for the door. Mahan stood in his path. The top sergeant’s hands were down and there was a grin on his face. Cash paused, irresolute, as the two others wonderingly departed and left him alone with the top sergeant. ““What do you think of Maclay?” asked Mahan pleasantly. Wyble told him. Not only was it a con- genial theme but probably it was the only one whereon Cash could have brought his mind to bear just then. He talked for nearly two minutes; and he did not repeat himself once. Mahan listened in open admiration. He had served on the plains with the Regular Army in the more or less good old days. He had heard muleteers talk to their teams when the caisson wheels bogged down in a river bed. He had heard the language of cavalry commanders through whose fingers an elusive band of reservation-jumping Sioux had just slipped. But from the squirming lips of this West Virginia mountaineer he was now listening to verbal pyrotechnics that made him feel as uncomfortable as might a shy schoolgirl who comes unexpectedly on a bunch of swimming boys. Yet he felt he was being educated. When Cash at last stopped to draw breath and to reénforce his overtaxed vo- cabulary Mahan inquired: ‘“‘What do you think of the Germans?’ Perplexed as to the trend of such queries, yet having strong ideas on both subjects ideas which just now his te mper reveled in airing—Cash proceeded with his lingual fire a at an even more lurid gait than before. It was made very clear by him that if there was anything on earth which he deemed more blasphemable than Private Maclay that one thing was the German nation at large. A wound or two, as well as things he had seen and things he had undergone, had given Cash an ardent personal hatred of his Teuton foes. And this hatred was one of the few themes on which he was always glad to dilate. His present wrath made him warm up to his subject with unwonted vigor. Mahan heard him out, then spake: “The Germans had more strength than the men they tackled —or they thought they had. They didn’t fight fair. They used tac- ties that white men had always despised. They didn’t like the way little oe regarded things, for instance. Belgium’s ideas about neutrals’ rights, and all that, made the boches blazing mad. They tore into Belgium—a plucky little fighter that was no match for them—and they pretty near tore it to pieces. They ‘They sure did!” fiercely denounced Ww yble. “The dog- eating swine! T hey —— ‘In short,” cut in Mahan, “they be- naved to little Belgium exactly the same way you just behaved to little Maclay.” Wyble jumped forward, his jaw out- thrust. Mahan went on evenly: “ Maclay tried to be funny. He pretended he wanted to spoil his rifle: a thing he or any other de- cent soldier would sooner cut off his hand than do. Because his ideas seemed to be different from yours and because theft didn’t solve the matter you sailed into him in exactly the same rotten way the boches sailed into the helpless little Belgians. You used the same foul line of tactics; and you took him by surprise too. He hadn’t a ghost of a chance against you. And his wrong toward you was just imaginary. On January 25,1919 the level, Wyble, is there a whole lot of difference between you and a boche? Is there?”’ Cash gaped dully. Once or twice he made as though to speak; at first in black rage, then, as the simile began to seep through his mind, more confusedly than angrily. Presently he lapsed into bewil- dered silence, evidently reviewing Mahan’s charge and seeking to find a flaw in the analogy. The mountaineer mindjunder its callouses is the mind of a child- queerly impulsive and docile when it finds an argument it may follow, as camp-meeting preachers can testify. Mahan waited a minute, then continued: **You've done alot more than that. You’ve made me turn my back on my duty. By rights I ought to be escorting you to the hoosgow right now. And instead I’m wast- ing good talk on you.’ Wyble tried again to speak; but Mahan resumed, unheeding: ‘‘We’ve been hus- tling pretty hard in this war to make the world safe for democracy. That means, as I take it, to give the Little Fellow a fair show. We've done it. And we’re mighty happy. And here in the very start-off of our jubilating you bring a smirch like this on the company; and you show how little you've learned of our Army’s aim in the war. You've shown it by giving a little fellow the beating of his life. I’ve had a kind of an idea all along that we boys would go back home with a new notion of weaker folks’ rights, after all we’ve been through; and that there’d be a time coming of fair play and whiteness and self-control that'd make our country a cleaner place to live in. “If the war’s taught us anything I fig- ured it had taught us that. That seemed to me to be what peace really means. The peace we fought for. The way I see it peace means that. And it means ‘Live and let live.’ Just as this war has meant to us: ‘ Let live even if you've got to stop living to do it.’ “Well, if we're all like you we're going back as rank as we came out here. We're going home to whale the stuffing out of the chaps who can’t hit back; and to go crazy mad every time anything riles us. It kind of seems as if a lot of our work out here had gone for nothing, doesn’t it? Wyble listened, not realizing he listened. At the word “‘ peace”’ his thoughts, as ever, flew back to the shack and to the moun- tains he called home. But in place of the old exultance in the thought he was as- toundedly aware of a queer sense of shame—a sense he had no wish or power to analyze. With a grunt he turned impulsively to the top sergeant, who was watching him with such outward indifference. “T reckon,” said Wyble heavily —‘‘I reckon I'll go repo’t myself under arrest now. That’s better’n any Dutchman ever did till he was licked to a standstill. But maybe I’m lic ked to a standstill too. So maybe I ain’t much better’n a Dutchman, arter all. Like you said. I—I reckon there’s been a whole passel too much me about me; and too little reel folks. I'll tell ‘em "bout swipin’ Maclay’s rifle too. I reckon I may’s well squar the hull bill at one crack. So long, sarge. An’—thanks. You sure got one cutti n’ tongue, though. So a. ‘You'll stay where you are!” rasped Mahan. “Do you mean to say you're going to get me into a hole for not having you arrested? You'll stay where you are and ‘a Maclay, washed, but swollen of visage, limped into the bunk room to repair his costume ravages. At sight of Cash he came to a quick and apprehensive stop. Wyble eyed him shamefacedly a second, then picked up the wad of money from the cot and said almost with timidity: “If—if you-all is honin’ for—for indem- ity —here’s thutty dollars, Mistuh Belgium. An’”’—in a burst-of self-abnegation—“ fo’ all I care, when you-all git home yuh c’n eat yo’ rifle!” Top Sergeant Mahan sneaked out. His work was done; or if it was not he was moderately content. For as he left the room he overheard Cash Wyble expound- ing further to the dumb-stricken Maclay: “You see, peace don’t only jest mean goin’ home—the way a ignorant cuss like you most likely ‘lowed it did. It means a hull heap more. It means ‘Live an’ let live.’ Thet’s what peace means. ‘Live an’ let live!’ Even if the man who is let to live is such a ornery shote he ec’n crack jokes "bout sp’ilin’ his grand good rifle.”

Page 77

THE SATURDAY EVENING POST An Old-World Offerin3? HEN ancient Ejypt discovered that Palm and Olive oils were perfect cleansing BYP p 5 agents she Rave the world her most endurin}, ,ift. Historic jlories may be forgotten in the rush of modern life. But these old-world oils contribute to our daily comfort. Their scientific combination in Palmolive Soap is enjoyed the world over. Their bland, soothin?, qualities are imparted to each fragrant cake —to every bubble of the profuse, creamy Palmolive lather. Her temples may crumble and cities vanish in shiftin}, desert sands, but the world will remember ancient Egypt because she gave it PALMOLIVE. t Send This most famous soap is sold everywhere by leadinj, dealers. This means all over the civilized world. Popular hotels supply it in Zuest room size. It has fol- lowed our army into the front line trenches. It is the choice of the American Navy. THE PALMOLIVE COMPANY, Milwaukee, U. 5. A. The Palmolive Company, Limited, Toronto, Canada 25 cent: in stamps for Trave lette Case, containing miniature packages of eight popular Palm- olive Specialties,

Page 78

76 THE SATURDAY EVENING POST Do you consult your insurance agent as you would your doctor or your lawyer? You should, if he is the Hartford agent. Our agents as well as our policy-holders are carefully selected. The agent should have more than the ability to write insurance. He should possess judgment and discrimination, so that he may serve both you and the Hartford. For one of the things that have made the Hartford safe is that, for years, it has sold fire prevention as well as fire insurance. Fire can never be prevented altogether, but the chances of fire can be reduced and most fires can be extinguished if promptly We have selected as agents men_ broad- attacked. Years of experience in adjusting fire minded enough to see the wisdom of this policy. losses have taught us what causes fires. When We have a corps of fire prevention engineers we insure a property which can be made safer whose expert advices are available to our by changes or modifications, we suggest them. patrons, and whose services our agents can We also advise agents as to the best methods provide for you. The plan is sound and has for extinguishing fires, and when the property owner is the kind of man the Hartford wants he welcomes these suggestions. We have followed this plan in the belief that it was to the best interest of our policy-holders. The Two Hartfords—the Hartford Fire Insurance Co. and the Hartford Accident and Indemnity Co. write practically every form of insurance except life brought the Hartford the largest fire insurance business in the country. Are you insured in the Hartford? If not, do you know what company you are insured in? Does it offer a service like this? Any agent or broker can get you a policy in the HARTFORD Fire INsuRANCE Co. HARTFORD ACCIDENT AND INDEMNITYCO. Hartford, Conn.

Page 79

THE SATURDAY EVENING POST HE man in the gray golfing cap and the gray tweed suit stood regarding with a certain degree of hesitation the small unkempt road that strag- gled off through the bare New Hampshire woods. Straight ahead ran the brisk and well-traveled high- way that he had been following since daybreak. It wasa familiar route. He had tramped it many times in past rambles about the countryside. But to-day a spirit of adventure was upon him, a spirit of restlessness and exploration born, no doubt, of the strug- gle going on within himself. Suddenly he decided upon his course. With a flourish of his gnarled walking stick, as though to celebrate his departure from the trend of con- ventional traffic, he swung about and turned almost joy- ously into the woods road. It led him through a pine forest whose natural archi- tecture rose about him with the cavernous grace and dig- nity of a cathedral. Upon the floor of this cathedral the November sunlight was engaged in putting down a mosaic of purest gold. The air was filled with the fragrance of the pines. Now the road curved over a gentle rise and down into a shadowy ravine, where a brook ran gossiping under a shabby wooden bridge. Here the man in the golfing cap paused for a moment, resting his arms upon the railing of the bridge and staring down into the shallow, swirling stream, upon whose current dead leaves spun like little boats without a purpose. The stillness was absolute except for a few impromptu bird notes tossed upon the air. The man drew a deep breath and was glad that he had chosen the unfamiliar road. He was glad for the stillness, the soli- tude, the tremendous simplicity of this unpremeditated moment. He was glad to be nothing but a man leaning upon the worn rails of an old bridge. In the lost world that lay somewhere over his shoulder he was counted an impor- tant personage. It was seldom indeed that he could slip off like this and be nothing but himself. “It is very peaceful here,” he thought as he proceeded. “‘Peaceful!’’ he repeated absent-mindedly, a few seconds later. The word echoed in his ears; awoke certain vivid reflec- tions in his brain. He thought of the peace that had fallen only recently upon the scarred battle fields of France and Belgium. Three days before, on November 11, 1918, the armistice agreement had been signed at Senlis, and the world war had come dramatically to its close. The situa- tion thus created had wrought a crisis in the affairs of this man tramping the New Hampshire woods. He had staked a great deal upon the war—and he had won. Now he must stake everything upon the peace. The trees that had marched beside him fell suddenly away like soldiers deploying right and left. He emerged into a sunlit clearing, in the center of which stood a smal! ILLUSTRATED Br H. WESTON TAYLOR yellow house with attendant outbuilding From the front door of this house a brief path ran down to meet the road. A woman was in the dooryard hanging out a voluminou washing. She stood with bare arms upraised, and the blowing sheet that she had lifted to the line was like a banner in her hands. There was something so clean, so wholesome, so strong about the momentary picture that the man smiled for the first time that day, and let his glance sweep appreciatively over the entire scene. It was then that he saw in the front window of the house a homemade service flag, in the center of which gleamed a single gold star. He halted abruptly and the smile faded from his eyes. The beauty of the setting, the dazzle of sunlight overhead, the solemn grandeur of the forests in the background made infinitely more poignant the tragedy of the lonely little house. Grimly the man realized that though the war was over its shadow still rested upon the earth, upon the hearts of men and women—upon the heart of this woman hanging out clean linen in the light of the autumn day. He took off his cap and turned toward her. She, hearing his footsteps, had abandoned her work and was standing with her hands at her sides, looking at him. “‘Good morning,” he said. “ Mornin’,” returned the woman in a calm and dignified voice. She had hair streaked with white, clear, gray eyes and a fine, brown, wrinkled face upon which toil and grief had stamped a double nobility. The man went up the path into the dooryard “I’ve been walking a good way,” he said. ‘Could you give me a drink of water?” “*Guess I kin,”’ she answered. Going to the house she took a tin dipper from a nail on the wall, thrust it into a wooden bucket and returned it to the stranger. He drank. The water was clear and cold and tasted slightly of the rock that it had sprung out of. Somehow it awoke in the man’s mind faint reminiscences of his boy- hood. He thanked the woman and returned the dipper to her hands. But he did not go. He stood a while regarding her almost awkwardly. Then he said: ‘‘ You have lost someone in the war’ The woman’s eyes filled slowly with tears, which she made no attempt to disguise or wipe away **My son,” she said “Was he all you had?” The Trees That Had Marched Beside Him Felli Suddeniy Away Like Soidiers Deploying Right and Left B DANA BURNET “No,” said the woman, ‘‘but he was the young- VY est,”’ The man continued to look at her; and there wa that in his gaze which invited not only confidence but the sharing of a burden. “Do you mind talking about him? She shook her head in dumb negation ‘‘What was his name?” “John,” she said; then twisting her hands in her apron “Maybe you'd like to see his picture?”’ “T would; very much!” She turned at once, with a sort of shy pride, and led him into the house; ‘into the prim and pathetic best parlor with its braided rugs, its framed mottoes, its hair flowers, its glass cabinet and polished heater standing upon a spot less sheet-iron base at one end of the room. There was a sweet air in this quaint institutional chamber; a fragrance of vanished wood smoke, an aroma of bygone dinners, a perfume of clean and simple living cast amid natural surroundings. “That’s him,” said the woman, pointing to a framed photograph over the inantelpiece It was an enlarged and rather badly tinted likeness of a boy in uniform. Beneath it was a glass vase filled with laté wild flowers and autumn leave “He had it taken in Boston just before he went to France,’ added the woman in a voice that was like a caress, The man studied it at some length *“*Would you care fo tell me about him?” he said finally “T’ve been very much interested in war work, but it isn’t always possible to realize the actual meaning of war.” For a moment she did not re ply, but stood with her arm folded upon he r broad bosom; considering hi words Then he motioned him to sit down upon an ancient hair sofa placed stiffly against the wall. She herself took a chair, a severe little rocker adorned with an embroidered tidy Her eyes fixed themselves upon the man’s face. He looked kind and friendly and in some insistent way familiar. She felt at ease with him, as though he were someone whom she had known ‘“‘OQur name’s Hopkins,” she said. “ There’s been a Hop- kins in this valley ever since the Revolution. Our buryin’ ground’s just across the road there; you kin see it from the window. John'll be the first to lie outside his own soil. “| had five children; three boys and twogirls. John was the youngest. He lived home with me. The rest was mar- ried and had homes o’ their own. John and | was always pretty close. He took after his father a lot. His father died when he was nine years old ‘Well, when the war broke out John wanted to go right off. ‘Ma,’ he says, ‘I’ve got to go sometime. If it wasn’t or Concluded on Page 80

Page 80

og ~~ e 7 “tat 9 RAK. oe 3 ¢ 9 - 7 vv January 25,1919 THE SATURDAY EVENING POST

Page 81

Tr hg ni ; er ue ee ; a it oz if wt . i > aby * ¢ THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 4 ,-* ” ' Now that the war is won we are again ready to do business with users of ARMCO IRON Although the Government still has need of the products of some manufacturers, the most patriotic service that the average manufac- turer can now perform its to ‘‘start doing business at the old stand’’ with that added understanding of the World’s needs to which the war has educated him. If American busi- ness can combine sensible optimism with scientific methods so as to avert a depression period, it will ful- hill a duty to the country quite as valuable as anything it did to help win the war. It is now just as im- portant to have trade prosperity as it was once important to thrust the Germans out of France and Belgium. On that basis, the whole Armco Organization — officials, employees, machinery and products —is now bending every effort to restore the service of Armco Iron to the uses of peace as quickly and completely as possible. During 1919 it is our intention in so far as it is possible to at once produce Armco Iron in desired quantities for all recognized uses on a more satisfactory service basis even than before. Armco standards of careful manufacture will continue to prevail. The purity and evenness of Armco Iron, which has made it of unequalled value for the following purposes, will be maintained. Armco [ron Enameled Products Leading manufacturers of stoves, refrigera tors, kitchen-cabinets, table-tops, and other enameled specialties use Armco Iron exclusive- ly as the enameling base because its purity and evenness and freedom from gases make possible smooth, beautiful enameled surfaces that are remarkably free from scales, scars, spots, pin- holes or other defects Armco lron Welding Material Armco Iron makes a uniform weld because it is pure and even. It welds more quickly, more smoothly and more strongly than any other material. It is used extensively for making repairs on steel castings for industrial and marine construction; in railroad con struction and repair shops for welding cracks in locomotive fire-boxes, welding in place new side-sheets, repairing worn engine wheels; in the manufacture of iron and steel barrels, grave vaults, pressure tanks, and innumerable other products; for making various welded articles Several leading manufacturers use Armco Iron polished sheets for stoves, welded throughout Armco Ircn as Electrical Conductor Armco Iron has high electrical conductivity because of its purity and evenness. It can be successfully and economically used for tele- phone wire, telegraph wire, cable wire, bond wire and high and low tension transmission wire. Armco Iron also has low residual magnetism and high permeability It takes hold and lets go of its magnetization more rapidly than any kindred material. Hence it can be utilized in the manufacture of magnet cores for motors for all kinds of small electric machines, and for pole-pieces for self-starting motors Armco Iron for Ship Building During the war, The American Rolling Mill Company was very active in the fabrication of ship parts either made of Armco Iron or in our Forging and Casting Departments. Sheet products of Armco Iron include Boiler Cases, Boiler - Breaching, Smoke - Stacks, Ceilings, Side-W 'Is, Ship-Cowls, Ventilators korged parts include Solid or Built-Up Crank Shafts, ‘Thrust Shafts, Tunnel Shafts, Propellor Shafts, Tail Shafts, Rudder Posts, Stem - Frames, Piston Rods, !nboard Coupling Sleeves. Cast ings include Rudder Posts, Davits, Stems, Pin Boxes, Stem Frames, Shoe Sections, Anchor Stocks, Crank Webs, Propellor Hubs and Bosses Armco Iron for Railroad Purposes Armco Iron is widely utilized in the con- struction of hopper cars, polished boiler jackets, coal-chutes, water tanks, culverts, oil storage tanks, metal passenger, freight and mine cars, smoke-stacks, third rails, car roopng, boiler tubes, fences, tk plates, equalizer bars, metal lath, window frames and ventilating ducts Here again ws purity and evenre are of im mense advantage Armco Iron Building Products When the building market is normally ac tive, there is a steady demand for pure, even, rust-resisting, weather-defying Armco Iron. It takes the form of many metal building products, including roofing, lath, window frames and sashes, skylights, grills, ventilator-ducts, *“gutters,’’ cornicesand conducto! pipes Armco lron insures long service, Its unusual purity and evenness allow it to take on an extremely pure galvanized coating free from contami- nating and weakening impurities Armco Iron Culverts and Flumes Armco Iron culverts are certain to hgure prominently in the vast highway program of both state and nation Practically 75% of all metal culverts built today, are built of rust resisting Armco Iron, and they are giving complete satisfaction meeting severe and important drainage service in every part of the country. The great irrigation problems of the far west also call for a vast use of Armco lron flumes. Their use gives 100% irrigation eth ciency Qur laboratory services are at the disposal of all manufacturers whose metallurgical prob lems lic within our particular held. Printed data and information specifically applied to your needs will be sent on reque The trade mark ARMCO ecarri th i ince that tron, bearing that mark, is mar factured b Th Americal Rolling M Company, with the skill, intelligence ar fidelity associated with its | hence can be depended upon to | ‘ the hizhest degree the merit claime tor THE AMERICAN ROLLING MILL COMPANY, Dept. 935, MIDDLETOWN, OHIO

Page 82

Cenctuded from Page 77) for leavin’ you I'd go to-morrow.” ‘John,’ I says, ‘give me to-night to think it over. I'll let you know in the mornin’.’ “So I lay awake all that night thinkin’ about it, and next day I says to him, ‘John,’ I says, ‘you kin go. I’ve got my housework and my washin’, and if I get lonesome I'll send for one of the girls.’ “He went that afternoon and ‘listed For a while he was in a camp near Boston Then I got a letter sayin’ he'd joined the iviation “It made me kind of faint at first. l'emptin’ Providence, it seemed like to me But John, he didn’t think nothin’ of it. i'm a good deal safer in an airyplane,’ he wrote me, ‘than I used to be slidin’ down he roof o’ the barn.’ Still I couldn't get ised to his goin’ up into the air ‘Seems as though I knew all along he'd never come back to me.” Her eyes grew moist again with that slow welling of tears; but she went on steadily **He was in trainin’ for six months; then I didn’t hear for a long time. Then I heard he'd arrived in France “After that his letters began to come ngain. He always tried to make out that flyin’ was as safe as walkin’, and kept tellin’ me not to worry about him. But I never opened a newspaper without feelin’ kind 0 sick “He got his commission on Christmas Day. We had a cable from him sayin’ that he’d been made a lieutenant, and wishin’ us all a merry Christmas ‘Then before we knew it he was at the Front, fightin’. I used to dream of it nights. { used to see him soarin’ like a hawk away ip in the sky, and once I saw him fall. I didn’t sleep much after that. “It got along toward spring. One April evenin’—I can smell the lilacs now—I opened my letter box and took out the Pine Valley Journal. There on the front page was John’s name in big letters. He had hot down a German airyplane. There was a long piece in the paper tellin’ about it, and tellin’ about John. “Well, I sat right down on the steps of the house and read the article. I was still ‘eadin’ it, and eryin’ over it, and tryin’ to ake it in, when a boy rode up on a bicycle und gave me a telegram from W ashington sayin’ that John had been killed THE SATURDAY ‘“‘] stopped cryin’, I remember, and went into the house, and got a dime for the boy and gave it to him. He said: ‘Thanks, Mis’ Hopkins. It’s fine about John, ain't it?’ I said: ‘John’s dead.’ He looked at me for a minute kind of scared-like, then he jumped on his wheel and rode away as fast as he could go. “By and by the neighbors began to come. They was mighty kind; but I didn’t want pity; and told them so. I guess I hurt their feelin’s some. All I wanted, I said, was to be left alone. I said: ‘I want to think this thing out. I want to get to the bottom of it. 1 want to ask God to his face what pur- pose he had in takin’ John’s life, and if it ain’t a great purpose I want to tell him to his face what I think of him.’ “That shocked them. They told me it was wicked to be so bitter. But they didn't understand. I wasn’t bitter at all. I just wanted to get to the bottom of it. “I went upstairs to my room and prayed. I prayed God to let me know the truth about the war, and about this business of young men dyin’. But God didn’t answer. I'm a good churchwoman, and all that, but the plain fact o’ the matter is that God didn’t answer. “So I got up from my knees and began to think it out for myself. I thought of all the things that folks say the boys is dyin’ for, and I tell you straight out, sir, they wasn’t enough! “They wasn’t enough. I know. I’ve carried the real burden of war—and I know. “I’m an American. I love the land that I was born in, and I love the flag. It’s a beautiful flag. But if they was to shoot me for a traitor to-morrow I'd still tell you that there’s no flag, there’s no country, there’s no glory on earth worth the agony I've gone through. “Nor it ain’t the agony, either. It’s the awful emptiness. It’s the feelin’ that you’ve borne children for nothin’! It’s the ghastly fear that God may be sittin’ out there in the shadows laughin’ at you!” The man with the strangely familiar face leaned forward, an intense and burning curiosity in his eyes. “You think, then, that your son’s life was wasted? You think there’s nothing worthy of such sacrifice?” ‘There's one thing,” said the woman EVENING POST A moment of deep silence ensued. Then the man said: ‘Tell me.’ Instead of replying the woman rose and walking to the table in the center of the room opened an old album lying there. From beneath its cover she took a folded letter, which she gave to him, saying: “Tt came two months after John was killed. It’s from a woman in France. You’ll understand when you read it.” The letter was as follows: “* VILLERS-SUR- MEUSE, “Département de la Meuse, France. ‘““MMB. SUSAN HOPKINS, “Pine Valley, New Hampshire, U.S. A “*Chére Madame Hopkins: I write in my so imperfect English to inform you that I have received the permission from the Military to keep always renewed the flow- ers upon the grave of your son, mort pour v humanité. “T have lost my own son since two years. He lies buried upon a hillside at Verdun with six thousand others. I shall never know just where. So I request you, chére madame, to permit me the deep and sacred joy to keep fresh the grave of one who has fallen almost, it seems, at my door. In thus caring for the memory of your son I serve also the memory of my own. “The grave is in a beautiful, a so quiet little cemetery on the border of our village. I pray you not to think of it as foreign soil, madame. Those who die in France sleep upon the bosom of a friend! ““One does not speak of sympathy in these days; one speaks only of understand- ing. Though an ocean lies between us I feel that I know your heart. Will you not ac- cept, then, a word of hope from one who is old in sorrow? “There are many phrases for which the talkers say our sons have died. But there is one thing which is not a phrase. There is one thing which, if it can be realized, will justify all. “Tt is this, madame: If the flesh of our flesh has perished in order that never again shall there exist upon the face of the earth this hell called war, then it will not have been in vain. All else is futile. All else is sacrilege. ‘God be with your great country, and with all great and good peoples who strive for the lasting peace our sons have died for. January 25,1919 “Believe me, madame, your servant and your sister, [MME.}] MARIE CARRE.” The man finished reading the letter, folded it reverently and gave it back to the woman. They both rose. The man’s gaze rested once more upon the photograph of the boy in uniform. The woman was star- ing out of the window, across the road, to the little burying ground. “One thing!" she said; then looked round at him with a transfigured face. “One thing! My son —— “You are right,” said the man. “You mothers ———- We should have listened to you long ago.” He took her hand for an instant in his, uttered some word of farewell, and went directly from the room. She stood in the window and watched his slender, upright figure striding along the country road. It was a week later. The sun, low-fallen in the west, cast a glow through the pine forest such as one sees in a great church when all the candles are lighted. It touched with a shining beam the windows of the house in the clearing, and illumined the prim best parlor, where a woman sat bend- ing over a newspaper. She was reading a certain brief dispatch, set forth in brave display upon the front page. It ran thus: “The President of the United States, it was announced in Washington to-day, will attend the great peace conference to be held in Paris for the settlement of questions arising out of the war. The President made this announcement upon his return to the White House after a short vacation. “Strong political opposition to the Presi- dent’s course is certain to develop, as his action will break all precedents. But the Chief Executive, it is said, feels that the peo- ple of this and of other nations will approve his decision. He feels that the people will be with him in all his efforts to secure a just and lasting peace.” The woman lowered the paper to her knees, and slowly turning her head gazed at the photograph of her son in uniform. As she did so a calm and infinitely tender smile appeared upon her face, while into her eyes came the mysterious radiant look of one who has served, and who, serving, has been wholly unaware. JERRY REMEMBERS SOMETHING (Continued from Page 15) duties of a valet; and I could hardly in truct him, never having seen one myself. So L groomed myself unaided, with some success, I think. You'd have said it was the Crown Prince of Wall Street, incognito und not so very incognito at that! Wealth had got into my soul, and the very thought of unnecessary exertion was abhor- rent to me. I chartered another hack and drove to the Miramar~— a distance of a few blocks for lunch. Why the Miramar? Do not imagine I had forgotten the girl! But the whole hour passed, and there was no sign of her. I paid my check from my new and still bulging wallet, and knew that my solitary grandeur had turned to ashes in my mouth—or whatever it does when you are thoroughly tired of it. I had everything I wanted except somebody to tell it to, and I didn’t know what to do next. Vv N THIS receptive frame of mind I felt a cordial hand drop on my shoulder and heard a cordial voice exclaim: “Why, Jimmy! How’s the boy?” “Jerry,”’ I corrected amiably. It was cheering even to be mistaken for some- hody’s friend. ‘“Everything’s perfectly lovely, thank you, far’s I know.” He was a plumpish young man with a gold tooth and thick black-rimmed eye- glasses, dressed faultlessly in white serge. lie seemed not at all disconcerted. “Well, well,”” he chuckled, “if you're not the image of my old friend, Jimmy Arm- strong! The very same shade of—er “Red hair,” I supplied. “Go on. I’m resigned to the fact and hardened to the description.” He dropped into a chair, still chuckling. He seemed to laugh most of the time. ‘Just finished lunch? So have I. Shall we have a little liqueur, just to show there’s no hard feeling? “Let's go!” I accepted happily. “I was just on the edge of having one unassisted. My name’s Norris.” o" He introduced himself as Harris, and over the liqueur he told me more about his friend Jimmy. “When I saw that red halo of yours,”’ he said, “I thought to myself, ‘Here’s where business picks up. Jimmy’s in town!’ He’s death to dull care—best old Indian in the world!” I wigwagged to the waiter. “T'll have a Daiquiri this time,” said Harris. “‘Ever try one? It’s a cocktail Cuban specialty. Make it two.” Mr. Harris himself was no mean foe to dull care. After the Daiquiri, which was good, he introduced me to the Presidente, which was better. Then he called for seven different bottles and a shaker and composed a liquid dream that perceptibly brightened an already lovely world. Also he laughed, and spoke further of my double, Mr. Arm- strong. “You ought to see him in a poker game,” he chuckled. ‘‘ You never know what he’ll pull off next. He'd just as soon buck a pat flush with a pair of sevens. But just when you think you've caught him at it, look out! Do you play?” **My nom de plume is Hoyle,” I admitted modestly. ‘ Have you read my book?” “Shrinking violet!” he chortled; and so agreeable was my mood that I laughed myself, convinced that I had achieved humor. ‘‘ You’re as conservative as Jimmy himself,” he said, and then whacked the table as with a sudden inspiration. “Say! Some of the fellows were talking about cooking up a little game to-night up at the Plaza. You must join is!” ‘Must is the word I was trying to think of,”’ I agreed joyfully. It was a beautiful world—eh, what? I ran my eye along the sea wall, there across the drive, trying to pick out the spot where I had sat, only last night—foodless, penni- less, friendless, harking to the sad sea waves and on the verge of letting the old upper lip collapse. And old A®neas, these thousands of years dead, had whispered in my other ear and delivered me into the hands of this kindly fate! A tiny worry clouded Mr. Harris’ jovial OrTow. “The only thing is,”’ he confided, “‘some of the fellows may want to tilt the game a little steep; you know, they’ve got no proper respect for money!’ He grinned. **T’m timid, but I stick round!” “You fellows save out enough for your passage home—that’s all,” I told him gayly. “I’ve seen a sign from heaven!” f I needed another sign that the high gods had taken personal charge of my affairs I had it then. In the gay stream of automobiles that swung out of the Prado and turned past down the shore drive I had a brief but unmistakable glimpse of a jaunty white hat above a merry face that I knew—knew well, even if I couldn't re- member who she was. She should not lose herself this time in the vague mystery of Somewhere or Other. This time I could command the magic of machinery for the pursuit. I rushed to the curb, raising a majestic forefinger, rejecting one of those small dependable ones in favor of a more temperamental-looking chariot with seven-inch tires and ninety horse power under its bulky hood. “Straight ahead,” I urged, leaning for- ward to help the great car get under way, and straining my eyes after the white hat. I had forgotten Harris, until I discovered him beside me. Jimmy to the life!’’ he chuckled. “ Just happens to remember the races, and goes off like a shot—afraid he'll miss one minute of something going on!” So we were going to the races. Auto, motorcycie or horse? I knew not; neither did I care! My friend, my friend! Sometime before you die may your soul feel the expansive- ness that was mine that afternoon! The air was soft. The sky was soft. Everything was soft! Never was so green, so agreeably wide an expanse of turf. Palm trees broke the sky line at exactly the right intervals; the bright colors of the jockeys’ shirts gave exactly the right touch of color to the fore- ground. The long curve of the track pleased me; the lithe sleek horses delighted me; the jolliest fellow in the world sat beside me, and the girl herself sat in the next box but one! A betting commissioner appeared. “I’m going to bet,” decided the girl suddenly, laughing defiance at papa; and the very sound of her voice convinced me that it was a wise decision. “On Happy Days! That’s the prettiest name on the list.”” “Twelve to one,” sioner. I objected to the smile; her reasons for her choice were none of his business. Papa smiled, too, but his was an indul- gent smile. Cheerful father! I could learn to like him. “Chance to win twelve times your money, Dolly,” he interpreted; “or twelve chances to lose it.”’ Dolly. So her name was Dolly. Yes, but which one? It seemed to nie, skimming hastily over the names of all the girls I could remember, that fully half of them had been Dollys. Beginning three years ago, how far back should I search my memory? The sight of the horses, single file, pacing springily from the paddock, reminded me that the next race was about to begin—and I was forgetting to bet, to-day of all days, when the gods were pouring luck into my lap! I led a mad rush to the betting floor, Harris at my heels, and bet a hundred dollars on the nose of Happy Days. I thought it was a ten-dollar bill until I had a glimpse of it vanishing into the book- maker’s till; but even then my thought was pity for the bookmaker. If he only knew what I knew! And at the finish of the race, when out of a close-huddled tangle of bobbing jockeys (Cencluded on Page 82) smiled the commis- a et te ——— =. = —

Page 83

d t THE SATURDAY EVENING POST —" ————— ——— —aae —— — ——, eee ——S= oe SSS SS SSE eT ge TE eee f es In labon Arl oy loors | etm of Linoleum f B /ipstairs and Down If the wood floors in your home are not as attractive as you would like to have them you need not go to the expense of installing parquetry floors, and you need no longer try in vain to improve the appearance of poor Hoors with stain and varnish. Just stop at some good floor-covering dealer’s and see the new Blabon Art Linoleums. They have numerous artis- tic and practical superiorities over parquetry and stained floors and they can be had at a range of price to suit every purse. Blabon Art Floors of linoleum present a much greater variety of colors and decorative features than is possible with wood floors, and thus afford a more inti- mate harmony with the furnishings, wall papers and hangings of your home. Being quiet and resilient to the tread, Blabon Floors can be used with or without rugs, as you please —and they are equally beautiful either way. Most people throw rugs over them in winter, and remove the rugs in summer. Included in the Blabon art creations are beautiful new carpet linoleums (such as that shown in the bedroom above); attractive art linoleum rugs; handsome hardwood effects (such as that in the living room to the right); delicate matting pat- terns; remarkably realistic tile and mosaic designs; and plain linoleums in soft, warm colors. Genuine linoleum has long been recognized as the most durable floor covering made, as well as the most sanitary and easiest to keep clean. By asking for Blabon Art Linoleums by name you can be sure of getting a product of guaranteed quality as weil as a beautiful selection of new art patterns. If i you would like to have our new booklet on the use of linoleums throughout the home, just drop us a ~ 7 A Pron — ee ee ees card. Important Notice: Floor-coverings made upon a felt paper base are not linoleum. Such felt paper products have a black iaterior which is easily letected upon examining the edge of the fabric The George W Blabon Company Established 67 yeare Philadelphia = — ~~ “F wae = . ENA = —— SS SE _—————_—e——————=———————————————— ‘ —— PN NNR NNN

Page 84

Concluded from Page &0) and flying hoofs a slim black horse surged forward and flashed under the wire, I knew almost without looking that it was Number Six, which was Happy Days. A calm exalted sense of certainty deepened on me; I couldn’t go wrong. My hands hardly even trembled as I stuffed thirteen hundred dollars into my wallet. 1 saw Harris watching me curiously through those thick black-rimmed lenses of his. “I told you I'd seen a sign from heaven,” I reminded him. ‘‘ Want to with- draw that invitation?” He broke at once into his ready laugh. “Old Eat-’em-alive Jerry!” he cried, whacking me affectionately on the shoulder. “IT should say not! The boys are going to get action for their money I can see that It'll be worth the price of admission! Come on; | want to buy a drink while I've still got the price!” Poker? I[ never was superstitious of course, but I always did believe that things ran in three I had won on the lottery ticket; I had won on the black horse: I would win to-night from this gilded youth and his gilded friends, and then I would call t a day’s work and be done with gambling for life. vi . E'LL run up to the Plaza and get the bunch,” proposed Harris cheer ily, “and have dinner together, before friendship ceases.” The car ahead was stopping at the Mira mar. Papa got out and helped mamma and the girl to alight “That sounds good,”’ | admitted; “ but I'll have to join you later, I've got an en- gagement now. Shall we say nine o'clock?” “Nine o'clock it is,’ laughed Harris, and leaned out to shake my hand. “ Right-o! We'll be looking for you.” Defying two waiters at once I chose a table near Dolly's, and my exhilarated brain went once more to work on its problem: Which Dolly? In the name of all defective memories, Dolly Who? And in that moment there passed ar other emissary of Fate, briefly, to speak two words and then to pass forever out of my life “ Hello, —' “Wot ho, doctor? ily in response Miller! T he gears of my memory meshed neatly and began to whir A stout gentle man who kept a dry-goods store; a dozen years to grizzle his short mustache and to put eyeglasses on his nose; a little girl named Dot Dorothy Dolly! Why, it was little Dot Miller, that lived next door when I was ten! No wonder I approved of her. It was little Dot Miller, my first love! I vaulted out of my chair, all but upset ting a W niter who was trying to distract my attention to the unimportant matter of food, and seized the old gentleman's hand. “Hello, Mr. Miller!” | bubbled. “By Jove! Who'd have thought of seeing you here? You don't remember me of course. I'm Jerry Norris.” He looked me over carefully, and | realized afresh — with Dorothy sitting right there—the full joy of the beautiful shave, the faultless haircut, the expensive rai ment. Suddenly he put on a grin to match my own “Well, bless my soul!” said he. ‘So it is! It's little Jerry, grown up! Sit down, Jerry. Of course you remember the folks?” “Surely! How d'ye do, Mrs. Miller? And Dorothy? The last time I saw you must have been the time | poked you a valentine through the fence. How long’s it been—fourteen years? You were eight then, I think.’ - “Jerry, your memory’s tao good,” she laughed, I was so happy that I was near hugging them all, beginning with Dorothy. Recalling the incident of the valentine reminded me that diplomatic relations between the old gentleman and myself were decidedly strained in the old days. I had the misfortune to be concerned in the demise of a prize rooster of his more or leas innocently, I maintain. It is true that | threw the rock, but who could have foreseen that the rooster would intercept it? He was fifty feet away, and going fast. But Mr. Miller had never understood how I felt about it, and the ghost of that valuable rooster might well have marred the glad- ness of the present occasion. I talked fast and merrily to keep him from remembering. “You look prosperous, Jerry,” smiled ang out papa cheer he. “What are you doing for yourself these di ays 3?” ‘I'm on a little vacation just now,” I explained, trying to look toil-worn and THE SATURDAY weary. “Just dropped in to see Havana on my way home. I've been in South America for three years, electrical engineering.” And I told him selected episodes of those years, contriving to leave the impression that the aforesaid prosperity was due en- tirely to industry and frugality. I made no reference to the last disastrous months; nor did I tell him—why should I, with Dorothy sitting right there?—that I had visited Havana solely at the instance of an irate Swede. Dinner consisted, probably, of food, though my memory of it is more pleasing than definite. Through a broad doorway ve looked out on the slate-gray waters of the gulf, with brown sails beating home- ward in the dusk; and infinitely intimate by contrast the shaded lights at our table showed me the cheerful vision of Dorothy at my side. Afterward there were moving pictures and singers in the courtyard of the hotel, and Dorothy sat beside me. The exhilaration of her nearness, there in the cozy dimness of the vine-hung court- yard, settled presently into a vast sense of comfort. There was a feeling of comrade- ship about her that was independent of what she did or said. The musie was doubly sweet because of it—I remember thinking that every one of the singers deserved to make the Metropolitan—and the humor of the pictures— which were wonderful, though their subject has escaped me—doubly keen for the hearing of her sudden little chuckle of mirth. Between times we talked; very softly for some reason. Already the misery of the past months had taken on the rosy tint of an adventure that we would laugh over, she and I, some day. ‘Truly, A®neas—wise old Roman, or Greek, or whoever you were—truly,” | thought, ‘you had the right idea!” It was much too soon when Mr. Miller snapped his watch authoritatively and rose vil NONCERNING my singing voice let us J say that it has volume, and then in charity cease to speak. It is to be hoped that the people in the next room were sound sleepers or early risers, for on that morning Romance was vigorously astir in my bosom, It was eight o'clock, and all was tremen- dously well. Prosaic stairs or rheumatic elevator must have aided in my descent to breakfast, though my memory indicates that I floated down. With no premonition of the thump awaiting me | beamed at the waiter and ordered a meal that must have awed him, hardened as he was to the vagaries of Amer- icans; and called for a oy paper, a final touch of luxury that practically ruined that noble repast. The war news did not depress me. The war to me was merely an extraordinary European disturbance whose maximum effect on this side of the world had been reached in the collapse of a certain South American electrical-development scheme. The European headlines therefore merely heightened my sense of superlative well- being by comparison with that dismal in cident. It was a paragraph farther down the page that finally caught my eye. Our eflicient police, said the Heraldo in its modest way, had brilliantly foiled the evil machinations of a band of international criminals who had dared to prey on the wealthy guests of our fair city, using the American national game, poker, as a me- dium. Poker! A feeling of not too uncomfort- able guilt reminded me that I had com- pletely forgotten my engagement with Harris. What must he think of me? I would look him up at once and apologize. “No more than one,” said the Heraldo, “of the evildoers evaded the hand of the law—a catrin”—a dude, a fastidiously dressed person—‘‘of medium size, half plump, who uses lenses with blac k frames and possesses a tooth of gold 1 all but moaned aloud. they were talking about! 7 calling himself variously, Mac- Donald, Seeley and Harris. Unfortunately he succeeded in levitating’’—that was the word! —‘“the funds taken from the vic- tims; but our efficient police - That beautiful breakfast was already giving me indigestion. Card sharps! Why, I knew all about card sharps; dark oily men with black eyes and pointed black mustaches, who wore quantities of dia- monds. Harris, now, was fair-skinned and jolly, and if you except his gold tooth wore no jewelry at all. He was just like you or me! It was Harris EVENING POST Harris, whereabouts unknown, would be gone by now with all my fortune; and | would be nursing a splitting head, once more adrift upon the rocks. Inch by inch my self-esteem shriveled, until I marveled that I could still see over the table. If a man had approached me at that moment, frankly admitting that to-day was Sunday, and had offered to bet me a nickel that to- morrow would be Wednesday I would have taken to my heels. I felt for my wallet, to make sure that my pocket had not been picked since I sat down—felt for it very un- obtrusively, careful not to betray its where- abouts to the criminal eyes that might be watching from every table. I could trust no one now, except —— Dolly! My spirits wavered in their downward flight, stopped, and soared. It is three blocks from the Inglaterra to the Seville, and I am convinced that the record I made that day, from a sitting start, is still un- broken. She was nowhere in sight when I skidded into the lobby; nor at breakfast; but I remembered the number on the brass key tag she had received at the desk last night Call two-four-three!” I demanded breathlessly, and restrained myself forcibly from shaking the high-born Castilian youth at the switchboard. “Call two-four-three!”’ He moved a plug languidly, and returned to stroking his adolescent mustache. After an interminable wait he nodded indiffer- ently toward an instrument on the desk and dismissed me from his existence. “Oh, the industrious Jerry,” said the voice of Dorothy. The sleep wasn’t out of her eyes yet, I'd wager; and her voice was soft and sleepy too. For some reason I was suddenly glad that [ had got up early. “I’m not industrious,” I protested. “It’s Sunday. Come down, can’t you, and take a walk with me? It’s a wonderful morning, and there's something I want to tell you.” “You know I'm curious,” she said. “I'll hurry. Only I refuse to go walking before breakfast.” “We'll have it together,”’ I decided. Even if I had done full justice to my first breakfast, which I had not, how could I miss such an opportunity? We walked out, and I could tell at a glance that I had not erred in describing the morning as wonderful. We came to the Malecén, its long smooth crescent deserted at this hour, and I knew it was the most wonderful morning I had ever seen. “Dorothy, I need a nursemaid,”’ I began recklessly. “T shouldn't think so,”” she murmured, and yielded suddenly to a struggling laugh. ‘You’ve—done pretty well for yourself, so far!” Now I was perfectly willing to be funny for her benefit, but I did not enjoy being funny without knowing how. I had me “9 in fact, to make my account amusing, but with a touch of pathos; and her laughter seemed a bit premature. “We strive to please,” I said. We walked on for a space, more and more slowly. Presently I stole a glance at her, and surprised a curious look in her eyes. She was not laughing now. ‘Jerry,”” she began hesitantly, and stopped. She sat on the edge of the wall, and indicated that I was to sit down too. ‘Jerry—why don’t you take up—electrical engineering or something like that?”’ | achieved simple dignity this time. “lI can hear you pérfectly,” I said, ‘‘and you do seem to be talking English; but I don’t know what you mean. I thought I told you Her expression was that of a parent re- proving a wayward child. “‘Jerry,”’ she said gently, “‘a man told us all about you yesterday at the races. Please don’t pretend any more.” ‘A man—what?” She dropped her eyes, looking down at her hands, which were clasped in her lap. I mention the hands because of a scientific problem which vexed me later. ‘That the police were after you,” she said in a small distant voice. “Though of course you—have an unde rstanding with the—the Man Higher Up! Probably my jaw dropped. At any rate I had to close it somewhat before I could manage speech. “This is interesting,” I said with a feeble attempt at facetiousness. ‘“‘Which of my crimes have the police discovered, accord- ing to your—er—informant?” “I saw you myself,” she flared suddenly. “Dressed up like a—a hooligan! And the juvabit! January 25,1919 policeman brought you right past my win- dow yesterday morning; and that very afternoon you were at the races, looking too happy and expensive for anything!” Slowly but surely my mighty intellect took hold, resolving the situation into terms that a child might understand. Their informant had meant doubtless to point out Harris; and they, having in mind my promenade under police escort and my spectacularly improved appearance, had looked at me and said: “ Yes, yes; goon!” With remorseless logic my brain pro- ceeded to grind out a hilarious deduction: “Dorothy Miller! You thought I was a crook, and you still thought enough of me— from our kid days—to let me talk to you!” She turned her face away, and her voice was smaller and more distant than ever. “No, Jerry,” she said. “‘My name isn’t Miller, and I never saw you before!” The italics, as the country editors say, are our own. My giant mind reeled under the impact of the words, though her voice was hardly audible. It surprised me vaguely to see the brown and yellow and blue buildings still standing there, calm and unmoved; the sea wall never even quivered. Yet she was not Dorothy Miller; { wasn’t Jerry Norris—that is, I might as well not be, for all she knew. “But your—your father ——” I man- aged at length, with some desperate idea of proving that she was mistaken “No; my uncle,” corrected the small voice. “‘He never saw you before either.” Thus finally put adrift from my last grasp on fact I was surprised to find my- self not completely disheartened. I had a comforting anchor somewhere; what was it? Ah! Her hands, when I had last seen them, had been folded in her lap. When and how came one of them to be held se- curely between the two of mine? Discovering this cheering if mysterious circumstance I rose, taking the hand with me, and moved to the other side of her, where she must look at me. “Dorothy,” I begged humbly, “why did you let me—get away with it, if you didn’t know me?”’ “Uncle Bob was just—having fun with you, Jerry. He’s—very fond of a joke.” “He shall have one,”’ I said; “but this time I’m afraid it’s on Uncle Bob.” “T suppose,”’ she sighed, “you're going to tell me you're not a crook at all.” “Tam,” I said, and did. She looked, I thought, more concerned than necessary; perhaps I was overdoing the pathos. I painted the Swede for her in my rawest colors, trying to coax a laugh; but she only touched my hand with her free one, and murmured: “Poor boy!” “But I came out all right,” I argued. “My friend Agneas has the appropriate words: ‘Forsan et hee olim meminisse 900 “Whatever that means!” “That,” I said airily, “‘issomething I just happened to remember. I don’t always commune with myself in Latin, but those are real words: It'll be funny when it quits hurting!”’ And I told her about the hobo, and how Aineas prompted me at the in- stant when Fate was waiting. “If you hadn’t remembered that just then,” she commented thoughtfully, “‘ you wouldn’t have had any lottery ticket at all—much less the right one.” “And I shouldn’t have seen you.” She nodded gravely, looking out over the dancing water. “It’s a good thing to remember,” she said—‘ that line.” “We'll have it in hammered brass,” I said, “‘over the fireplace!” It was out before I knew how reckless it was going to sound. I held my breath; but the gray eyes came back to mine gravely, without reproof. Then suddenly they crinkled with a smile. “I’m afraid the joke’s on Uncle Bob!” she said softly. “Dorothy,” I said, “‘ Dorothy Whatever- Your-Name-Is, when are you going home?’ “We're sailing this afternoon.” “So am I,” I said firmly. ‘‘ What boat?” “The Marengo.” “The who?” I gasped. “Say that over again—slow! I gave one critical look at my manly form, clad as the lilies of the field; I thought of a certain pocket, even now bulging with wealth; I looked at Dorothy the Delecta- ble. Then the tremendousness of it over- came me all at once, and I howled like a wolf. “Dorothy,” I chortled, ‘‘ Dorothy What- ever-Your-Name-May-Be! I'll introduce you to the cook!” an

Page 85

2 oes No Longer, ‘Just Lumber’ THE SATURDAY EVENING POST HE Long-Bell Lumber Company, the largest distributor of Southern Pine in the United States, announces that here- after the product from its twelve great saw mills will be marked with this design This progressive age demands named goods. Heretofore lumber has not been consid- ered adaptable to trademark- ing, but this company believes that the public is as much entitled to know the identity of the manufacturer of the lumber it uses as the food it eats or the clothing it wears. It is no longer necessary to ask for “just lumber.” Wheth er your requirements be large or small you may specify LONG-BELL brand with the Same assurance and satisfac- tion that accompany the pur- chase of any commodity that bears the maker’s guarantee in the shape of a trademark. Ask your dealer for Long-Bell brand lumber. The Long-Bell Lumber Co. R. A. Long Bldg., Kansas City, Mo. Manufacturers of Southern Pine, hardwood, oak flooring and creosoted lumber, ties, posts, poles, piling and wood blocks 83

Page 86

by both, to furnish Mr. Leary shelter until alter breakfast time, when over the tele phone he could reach friends and from these friends procure an outfit of funds and suit- able clothing. In sight, though, there was no structure which by its outward appearance disclosed itself as a place of entertainment for the casual wayfarer. Howsomever, lights were shining through the frosted panes of a row of windows stretching across the top floor of a building immediately at hand, and even as he made this discovery Mr. Leary was aware of the dimmed sounds of revelry and of orchestral music up there, and also of an illuminated canvas triangle stuck above the hallway entrance of the particu- lar building in question, this device bearing a lettered inscription upon it to advertise that here the members of the Lawrence P. MeGillicuddy Literary Association and Pleasure Club were holding their Grand Annual Civie Ball; admission One Dollar, including Hat Check; Ladies Free when accompanied by Gents. Evidently the Lawrence P. MeGillicuddys kept even later hours at their roisterings than the Bohe- mian sets in Washington Square kept. Observing these evidences of adjacent life and merrymakings Mr. Leary cogitated. Did he dare intrude upon the festivities aloft there? And if he did so dare, would he enter cavortingly, trippingly, with in- tent to deceive the assembled company into the assumption that he had come to their gathering in costume? or would he throw himself upon their charity and making open confession of his predicament seek to enlist the friendly offices of some kindly soul in extricating him from it? While he canvassed the two propositions tentatively he heard the thud of footsteps descending the stairs from the dance hall, and governed by an uncontrollable impulse he leaped for concealment behind a pile of building material that was stacked handily ypon the sidewalk almost at his elbow. He might possibly have driven himself to face a multitude indoors, but somehow could not, just naturally could not, in his present apparel, face one stranger outdoors—or at least not until he had opportunity to ap- praise the stranger It was a man who emerged from the hallway entrance; a stockily built man wearing his hat well over one ear and with his ulster opened and flung back exposing a broad chest to the wintry air. He was whistling a sprightly air Just as this individual came opposite the lumber pile the first dedicatory sneeze of a whole subsequent series of sneezes which had been burgeoning somewhere up in the top of Mr. Leary’s head, and which that unhappy gentleman had been mechanically endeavoring to suppress, burst from cap tivity with a vast moist report. At the explosion the passer-by spun about and his whistle expired in a snort of angered sur prise as the bared head of Mr. Leary appeared above the topmost board of the pile, and Mr. Leary’s abashed face looked into his. “Say,” he demanded, hidin’ there and snortin’ in a guy’s ear? His manner was truculent; indeed, verged almost upon the menacing. Evi- dently the shock had adversely affected his temper, to the point where he might make personal issues out of unavoidable trifle Instinetively Mr. Leary felt that the situa- tion which had arisen called for diplomacy of the very highest order. He cleared his throat before replying “Good evening,” he began, in what he vainly undertook to make a casual tone of voice. “I beg your pardon—the sneeze ahem-—occurred when I wasn’t expecting it. Ahem—I wonder if you would do me a favor?” “T would not! Come snortin’ in a guy’s ear that-a-way and then askin’ him would he do you a favor. You got a crust for fair!’ Here, though, a natural curiosity triumphed over the rising tides of indigna- tion. ‘Wot favor do you want, anyway?” he inquired shortly. “Would you—would you—I wonder if you would be willing to sell me that over- coat you're wearing?” “T would not!” “You see, the fact of the matter is I happen to be needing an overcoat very badly at the moment,” pressed Mr. Leary. “wotche r me anin’, “T was hoping that you might be induced to name a price for yours.” THE SATURDAY EVENING POST THE LIFE OF THE PARTY (Continued from Page 10) “Certainly | would not! M. J. Cassidy wears M. J. Cassidy’s clothes, and nobody else wears ‘em, belteve me! Wot’s -hap- pened to your own coat?” “IT lost it—I mean it was stolen.” “Stole?” “Yes, a robber with a revolver held me up a few minutes ago just over here in the = cs street and he took my coat “Huh! WwW ell, did you lose your hat the same way? < “Yes—that is to say, no. I lost my hat running.” “Oh, you run, hey? Well, you look to me like a guy wot would run. Well, did he take your clothes too? Is that why you're squattin’ behind them timbers?” The inquisitive one took a step nearer. ““No—oh, no! I’m still wearing my my—the costume I was wearing,” an- swered Mr. Leary, apprehensively wedging his way still farther back between the stack of boards and the wall behind. “But you see ——-” “Well then, barrin’ the fact that you ain't got no hat, ain’t you jest as well off without no overcoat now as I'd be if I fell for any hard-luck spiel from you and let you have mine?” “I woulda’t go so far as to say that exactly,” tendered Mr. Leary ingratiat- ingly. “I’m afraid my clothing isn’t as suitable for outdoor wear as yours is. You see, I'd been to a sort of soc ial fune tion and on my way home it—it happened.’ “Oh, it did, did it? Well, anyway, I should worry about you and your clothes,”’ stated the other. He took a step onward, then halted; and now the gleam of specu- lative gain was in his eye. “Say, if 1 was willin’ to sell—not sayin’ I would be, but if | was—what would you be willin’ to give for an ove rcoat like this here one?” ‘Any price within reason—any price you felt like asking,” said Mr. Leary, his hopes of deliverance rekindling. “Well, maybe I’d take twenty-five dol- lars for it just as it stands and no questions ast. How'd that strike you?” “*T’ll take it. That seems a most reason- able figure.” “Well, fork over the twenty-five then, and the deal’s closed.” I'd have to send you the money to- morrow—I mean to-day. You see, the thief took all my cash when he took my overcoat.”’ “Did, huh?” “Yes, that’s the present condition of things. Very annoying, isn’t it? But I'll take your address. I'm a lawyer in busi- ness in Broad Street, and as soon as I reach my office I'll send the amount by mes- senger.”’ ** Aw, to hell with you and your troubles! I might a-knowed you was some new kind of a panhandler when you come a-snortin’ in my ear that-a-way. Better beat it while the goin’s good. You're in the wrong neigh- borhood to be springin’ such a gag as this one you just now sprang on me. Anyhow, I've wasted enough time on the likes of you.” He was ten feet away when Mr. Leary, his wits sharpened by his extremity, clutched at the last straw. “One moment,” he nervously begged. “Did I understand you to say your name was Cassidy?” “You did. Wot of it?” “Well, curious coincidence and all that— but my name happens to be Leary. And I thought because of that you might “ The stranger broke in on him: ‘Your name happens to be Leary, does it? Wot’s your ot her name then?” ‘ Algernon.” Stepping lightly on the balls of his feet Mr. Cassidy turned back, and his mien for some reason was that potentially of a bel- ligerent. “Say,” he declared threateningly, “you know what I think about you? Well, I think you're a liar. No regular guy with the name of Leary would let a cheap stiff of a stick-up rob him out of the coat offen his back without puttin’ up a battle. No regular guy named Leary would be named Algernon. Say, I think you're a Far Downer. I wouldn’t be surprised but what you was anything else on the top of that. And wot’s ail this here talk about goin’ to a sociable functure and comin’ away not suitably dressed. Come on out of that now and let’s have a look at you.” “Really, I'd much rather not—if you don’t mind,” protested the miserable Mr. Leary. “‘I—I have reasons.’ “The same here. Will you come out from behind there peaceable or will I fetch you out?” So Mr. Leary came, endeavoring while coming to wear a manner combining an atmosphere of dignified aloofness and a sentiment of frank indifference to the opinion of this loutish busybody, with just a touch, a mere trace, as it were, of non- chalance thrown in. In short, coming out he sought to deport himself as though it were the properest thing in the world for a man of years and discretion to be wearing a bright pink one-piece article of apparel on a public highway at four A. M. or there- abouts. Undoubtedly, considering every- thing, it was the hardest individual task essayed in New York during the first year of the war. Need I add that it was a failure—a total failure? As he stood forth fully and comprehensively revealed by the light of the adjacent transparency, Mr. Cassidy’s squint of suspicion widened into a pop-eyed stare of temporary stupefac- tion “Well, for the love of —— In the name of —— Did anywan ever see the likes of ——” He murmured the broken sentences as he circled about the form of the martyr. Com- pleting the circuit, laughter of a particu- larly boisterous and concussive variety interrupted his fragmentary speech. “Ha ha, ha ha,” echoed Mr. Leary in a palpably forced and hollow effort to show that he too could enter into the spirit of the occasion with heartiness. ‘‘ Does strike one as rather unusual at first sight— doesn’t it?”’ “Why, you big hooman radish! Why, you strollin’ sunset!’’ thus Mr. Cassidy responded. “Are you payin’ an election bet three weeks after the election’s over? Or is it that you're jest a plain bedaddled ijiet? Or what is it, I wonder?” “T explained to you that I went to a party. It was a fancy-dress party,” stated Mr. Leary. Sharp on the words Mr. Cassidy’s man- ner changed. Here plainly was a person of moods, changeable and tempersome. ** Ain’t you ashamed of yourself, and you a large, grown man, to be skihootin’ round with them kind of foolish duds on, and your own country at war this minute for decency and democracy?” From this it also was evident that Mr. Cassidy read the editorials in the papers. ‘‘ You should take shame to yourself that you ain’t in uniform instid of baby clothes.” It was the part of discretion, so Mr. Leary inwardly decided, to ignore the fact that the interrogator himself appeared to be well within the military age. “T’m a bit old to en ist,’ “and I’m past the draft age.’ ‘Then you're too old to be wearin’ such a riggin’. But, by cripes, I'll say this for you—you make a picture that’d make a horse laugh.” Laughing like a horse, or as a horse would laugh if a horse ever laughed, he rocked to and fro on his heels. “Sh-sh; not so loud, please,” impor- tuned Mr. Leary in all humility, meanwhile casting an uneasy glance toward the lighted windows above. “Somebody might hear you!” “I hope somebody does hear me,” gur- gled the temperamental Mr. Cassidy, now once more thoroughly beset by his mirth. “T need somebody to help me laugh. By cripes, I need a whole crowd to help me; and I know a way to get them!” He twisted his head round so his voice would ascend the hallway. “Hey, fellers and skoirts,” he called; “‘you that’s fixin’ toleave! Hurry on down and see Algy, the livin’ peppermint lossenger,before he melts away from his own sweetness.” Obeying the summons with promptness a flight of the Lawrence P. McGillicuddys, accompanied for the most part by lady friends, cascaded down the stairs and erupted forth upon the sidewalk. “Here y’are—right here!” clarioned Mr. Cassidy as the first skylarkish pair showed in the doorway. His manner was drolly that of a showman exhibiting a rare freak, newly captured. ‘Come a-runnin’!” They came a-running and there were a dozen of them or pares Fam fifteen; blithe- some spirits, all, and they fenced in the he stated, January 25, 1919 shrinking shape of Mr. Leary with a close and curious ring of themselves, and the combined volume of their glad, amazed outbursts might be heard for a distance of furlongs. On prankish impulse then they locked hands and with skippings and pranc- ings and impromptu jig steps they circled about him; and he, had he sought to speak, could not well have been heard; and, any- way, he was for the moment past speech, because of being entirely engaged in giving vent to one vehement sneeze after an- other. And next, above the chorus of joyous whooping might be heard individual comments, each shrieked out shrilly and each punctuated by a sneeze from Mr. Leary’s convulsed frame; or lacking that by a simulated sneeze from one of the revelers—one with a fine humorous flare for mimicry. And these comments were, for example, such as: “Git onto the socks! “Ker-chew!” “And the slippers!” ‘“Ker-chew!’ And them lovely pink garters!’ “Ker-chew!’ “Oh, you cutey! Oh, you cut-up!” **Ker-chew!”’ “Oh, you candy kid!” “And say, git onto the cunnin’ elbow sleeves our little playmate’s got.” “Yes, but goils, just pipe the poilies ain’t they the greatest ever?” “They sure are. Say, kiddo, gimme one of ’em to remember you by, won’t you? You'll never miss it—you got a-plenty more.” “Wot d’ye call wot he’s got on ’um, anyway?” The speaker was a male, nat- urally. ““W’y, you big stoopid, can’t you see he’s wearin’ rompers?’’ The answer came in a giggle, from a gay youthful creature of the opposite sex as she kicked out roguishly. “Well then, be chee, w’y don’t he romp a little?” “‘Give ’um time, cancher? see he’s blowin’ out his flues? now. He’ll romp in a minute.” “Sure he will! We'll romp with ’um.” A waggish young person in white beaded slippers and a green sport skirt broke free from the cavorting ring, and behind Mr. Leary’s back the nimble fingers of the mad- cap tapped his spinal ornamentations as an instrumentalist taps the stops of an organ; and she chanted a familiar counting game of childhood: “Rich man—poor man—beggar man— thief—doctor—loiryer ——”’ “Sure, he said he was a loiryer.” It was Mr. Cassidy breaking in. “And he said his name was Algernon. Well, I believe the Algernon part.” “Oh, you Algy!” ** Algernon, does your mother know you’re out?” “T’ree cheers for Algy, the walkin’ comic valentine!” “Algy, Algy—Oh, you cutey Algy!” These jolly Greenwich Villagers were going to make a song of his name. They did make a song of it, and it was a frolicsome song and pitched to a rollicksome key. Congenial newcomers arrived, pelting down from upstairs whence they had been drawn by the happy rocketing clamor; and they caught spirit and step and tune with the rest and helped manfully to sing it. As one poet hath said, ‘‘And now reigned high carnival.”” And as another has so aptly phrased it, “‘There was a sound of revelry by night.” And, as the same poet once put it, or might have put it so if he didn’ t, “And all went merry as a marriage morn.”’ But when we, adapting the line to our own descriptive usages, now say all went merry we should save out one exception—one whose form alternately was racked by hot flushes of a terrific self-consciousness and by humid gusts of an equally terrific sneez- ing fit. “Here, here, here! Cut out the yellin’! D’you want the whole block up out of their beds?” The voice of the personified law, gruff and authoritative, broke in upon the clamor, and the majesty of the law, typified in bulk, with galoshes, ear muffs and woolen gloves on, not to mention the cus- tomary uniform of blue and brass, plowed a path toward the center of the group. “’S all right, Switzer,” gayly replied a hoydenish lassie; she, the same who had begged Mr. Leary for a sea-pear! souvenir. (Continued on Page 87) ” Don’t you He’s busy

a

Page 87

un! usetul THE SATURDAY EVENING POST Nowadays many tire makers are urging motorists to use non-skids on rear wheels and smooth-treads or “driving” tires on front wheels. This is necessary because the sharp pro- jections on some non-skids make steering difficult. Not so with the Michelin Universal. Its © rsal ness tread is so broad and flat, it steers as easily as a smooth tread. Use Michelin Universals all around. You will thus secure protection against the danger- ous front skid as well as against the rear skid; and at the same time you will avoid the necessity of carrying two kinds of spares. Remember that Michelins are unsurpassed for durability though moderate in price. MICHELIN TIRE CO. Milltown, N. J. Canadian Headquarters: Michelin Tire Co. of Canada, Ltd., 782 St. Catherine St. W., Montreal Dealers in all parts of the World | MICHELIN |

Page 88

THE SATURDAY EVENING POST January 25,1919 “This Cutting Cost is Too High, Star Standardized Blades will Cut it Down” TANDARDIZATION means efficiency the world over—in hack saw blades the same as anything else. Every good mechanic keeps one kind of hack saw blade in his power saw for cutting as many kinds of work as possible—because time lost in changing blades costs money. But be sure you use a Star Standardized Blade which is made for the widest range of work and not some brand that has “a special blade for every purpose.”’ The only reason such a brand has so many gauges and pitches is because the maker knows that one blade can't do a wide variety of work. “> STAR HACK SAW BLADES of Tungsten Steel Machine and Hand Flexible and All Hard With the Star you can put a 10-tooth, 18-gauge blade into your saw and know that it will make quick work of any sawing except the very lightest or thinnest material. This is bec ause every single feature of the Star Saw was worked out so that one blade would cut the widest range of material. It is the acute cutting angle of the tooth, its three way clearance and the way it is designed for strength. This with the high Tungsten percentage and the heat-treated toughness puts the Star Blade in a class by itself for cast cutting, universal cutting and low cost per cut. Star Engineering Service on metal cutting is at your service to help you solve any metal cutting problems you may encounter. A highly trained staff with thirty years’ experience behind it. Write for our free book “Hack Saw Efficiency.”” A valuable handbook for everyone who saws metal. Manufactured By Sole Distributors CLEMSON BROS. Inc. MILLERS FALLS CO. MIDDLETOWN, NEW YORK MILLERS FALLS, MASS. v

Page 89

Le es > , ” . 4 t ] (Continued from Page 84) “But just see what Morrie Cassidy went and found here on the street!” Patrolman Switzer looked then where she pointed, and could scarce believe his eyes. In his case gleefulness took on a rumbling thunderous form, which shook his being as with an ague and made him to beat himself violently upon his ribs. “*D’ye blame us for carryin’ on, Switzer, when we seen it ourselves?” “TI don’t—and that’s a fact,’’ Switzer confessed between gurgles. “I wouldn't a blamed you much if you'd fell down and had a fit.” And then he rocked on his heels, filled with joviality clear down to his rubber soles. Anon, though, he remem- bered the responsibilities of his position. “Still, at that, and even so,” said he, so- bering himself, “enough of a good thing’s enough.” He glared accusingly, yea, con- demningly, at the unwitting cause of the quelled commotion. “Say, what’s the idea, you carousin’ round Noo York City this hour of the night diked up like a Coney Island Maudie Graw? And what’s the idea, you causin’ a boisterous and disorderly crowd to collect? And what's the idea, you makin’ a dis- turbance in a vicinity full of decent hard- workin’ people that’s tryin’ to get a little rest? What’s the general idea anyhow?” At this moment Mr. Leary having sneezed an uncountable number of times regained the powers of coherent utterance. “It is not my fault,”’ he said. “I assure ou of that, officer. I am being misjudged; am the victim of circumstances over which I have no control. You see, officer, I went last evening to a fancy-dress party nd “Well then, why didn’t you go on home afterwards and behave yourself?” “I did—I started, in a taxicab. But the taxicab driver was drunk and he went to sleep on the way and the taxicab stopped and I got out of it and started to walk across town looking for another taxicab and ——” “Started walkin’, dressed like that?” “Certainly not. I had an overcoat on of course. But a highwayman held me up at the point of a revolver, and he took my overeoat and what money I had and my card case and - “Where did all this here happen—this here alleged robbery?” “Not two blocks away from here, right over in the next street to this one.” “I don’t believe nothin’ of the kind!” Patrolman Switzer spoke with enhanced severity; his professional honor had been touched in a delicate place. The bare sug- gestion that a footpad might dare operate in a district under his immediate personal supervision would have been to him deeply repugnant, and here was this weirdly at- tired wanderer making the charge direct. “But officer, I insist I protest that “Young feller, I think you've been drink- n’, that’s what I think about you. Your voice sounds to me like you've been drinkin’ about a gallon of mixed ale. I think you dreamed all this here pipe about a robber and a pistol and an overcoat and a taxicab and all. Now you take a friendly tip from me and you run along home as fast as ever you can, and you get them delirious clothes off of you and then you get in bed and take a good night's sleep and you'll feel better. Because if you don’t it’s goin’ to be neces- sary for me to take you in for a public I’m tellin’ nuisance. I ain’t askin’ you you, now. If you don’t want to be locked up, start movin’—that’s my last word to you.’ The recent merrymakers, who had fallen silent the better to hear the dialogue, grouped themselves expectantly, hoping and waiting for a yet more exciting and humorous sequel to what had gone be- fore—if such a miracle might be possible. Nor were they to be disappointed. The dénouement came quickly upon the heels of the admonition. For into Mr. Leary’s reeling and dis- tracted mind the warning had sent a clarify- ing idea darting. Why hadn’t he thought of a police station before now? Perforce the person in charge at any police station would be under requirement to shelter him. What even if he were locked up temporarily? In a cell he would be safe from the slings and arrows of outrageous ridicule; and surely among the functionaries in any station house would be one who would know a gentleman in distress, however startlingly the gentle- man might be garbed. Surely, too, some- body—once that somebody’s amazement had abated—would be willing to do some telephoning for him. Perhaps, even, a THE SATURDAY policeman off duty might be induced to take his word for it that he was what he really was, and not what he seemed to be, and loan him a change of clothing. Hot upon the inspiration Mr. Leary de- cided on his course of action. He would get himself safely and expeditiously re- moved from the hateful company and the ribald comments of the Lawrence P. Mc- Gillicuddys and their friends. He would get himself locked up—that was it. He would now take the first steps in that direc- tion. “Are you goin’ to start on home purty soon like I’ve just been tellin’ you to; or are you ain’t?” snapped Patrolman Swit- zer, who, it would appear, was by no means a patient person. “Tam not!” The crafty Mr. Leary put volumes of husky defiance into his answer. “I’m not going home— and you can’t make me go home, either.” He rejoiced in- wardly to see how the portly shape of Switzer stiffened and swelled at the taunt. “I’m a citizen and I have a right to go where | please, dressed as I please, and you don’t dare to stop me. I dare you to arrest me!” Suddenly he put both his hands in Patrolman Switzer’s fleshy midriff and gave him a violent shove. An out- raged grunt went up from Switzer, a de- lighted whoop from the audience. Swept off his balance by the prospect of fruition for his design the plotter had technically been guilty before witnesses of a violent assault upon the person of an officer in the discharge of his sworn duty. He felt himself slung violently about. One mitted hand fixed itself in Mr. Leary’s collar yoke at the rear; the other closed upon a handful of slack material in the lower breadth of Mr. Leary’s principal habiliment just below where his buttons left off. “So you won’t come, won't you? Well then rl show you—you pink strawberry all nraged at having been flaunted before a jeering audience the patrolman pushed his prisoner ten feet along the sidewalk, imparting to the offender’s movements an involuntary gliding gait, with backward jerks between forward shoves; this method of propulsion being known in the ver- nacular of the force as ‘givin’ a skate the bum’s rush.” ‘Hey, Switzer, loan me your key and I'll ring for the wagon for you,” volunteered Mr. Cassidy. His care-free companions, some of them, cheered the suggestion, see- ing in it prospect of a prolonging of this delectable sport which providence without charge had so graciously deigned to pro- vide. “Never mind about the wagon. Us two’ll walk, me and him,”’ announced the patrol- man. “Taint so far where we’re goin’, and the walk’ll do this fresh guy a little good maybe’ll sober him up. And never mind about any of the rest of you taggin’ along behind us neither. This is a pinch—not a free street parade. Go on home now, the lot of youse, before you wake up the whole Lower West Side.” Loath to be cheated out of the last act of a comedy so unique and so rich the whim- sical MeGillicuddys and their chosen mates fell reluctantly away, with yells and gibes and quips and farewell bursts of laughter. Closely hyphenated together the deep blue figure ‘and the bright pink one rounded the corner and were alone. It was time to open the overtures which would establish Patrolman Switzer upon the basis of a bet- ter understanding of things. Mr. Leary craning his neck in order to look rearward into the face of his custodian spoke in a key very different from the one he had last em- ployed: “T really didn’t intend, you know, to resist you, officer. I had a private purpose in what I did. And you were quite within your rights. And I’m quite grateful to you -frankly I am—for driving those peo- ple away. ‘Is that so?” The inflection was grimly and heavily sarcastic. “Yes. I am a lawyer by profession, and generally speaking I know what your duties are. I merely made a show—-a pretense, as it were—of resisting you, in order to get away from that mob. It was—ahem— it was a device on my part—in short, a trick.” ‘Is that so? Fixin’ to try to beg off now, huh? Well, nothin’ doin’! Nothin’ doin’! I don’t know whether you're a fancy nut or a plain souse or what-all, but whatever you are you’ re under arrest and you're goin’ with me. EVENING POST oer That’s exactly what I desire to do,” resumed the schemer. “I desire most earnestly to go with you.” “You're havin’ your wish, ain’t you? Well then, the both of us should oughter be satisfied.” “IT feel sure,”’ continued the wheedling and designing Mr. Leary, ‘that as soon as we reach the station house I can make sat- isfactory atonement to you for my be- havior just now and can explain everything to your superiors in charge there, and then -—— “Station house!” snorted Patrolman Switzer. ‘Why, say, you ain’t headin’ for no station house. The crowd that’s over there where you're headin’ fur should be grateful to me fur bringin’ you in. You'll be a treat for them, and it’s few enough pleasures some of them gets A new, a horrid doubt assailed Mr Leaty’s sorely taxed being. He began to have a dread premonition that all was not going well and his brain whirled anew ‘But I prefer to be taken to the station house,” he began. “And who are you to be preferrin’ any thing at all?” countered Switzer. “I'll phone back to the station where I am and what I’ve done; though that part of it’s no business of yours. I'll be doin’ that after I've arranged you over to Jefferson Market.” * Jeff —Jefferson Market!” “Sure, tis to. Jefferson Market night court you’re headin’ this minute. Where else? They're settin’ late over there to- night; the magistrate is expectin’ some raids somewheres about daylight, I think. Anyhow, they’re open yet; I know that. So it’ll be me and you for Jefferson Market inside of five minutes; and I’m thinkin’ you'll get quite a reception.” Jefferson Market! Mr. Leary could pic- ture the rows upon rows of gloating eyes. He heard the incredulous shout that would mark his entrance, the swell of unholy glee from the benches that would interrupt the proceedings. He saw stretched upon the front pages of the early editions of the afternoon yellows the glaring black-faced headlines: WELL-KNOWN LAWYER CLAD IN PINK ROMPERS HALED TO NIGHT CouRT He saw——— But Switzer’s next remark sent a fresh shudder of apprehension through him, caught all again, as he was, in the coils of accursed circumstance. **Magistrate Voris will be gettin’ sleepy what with waitin’ for them raids to be pulled off, and I make no doubt the sight of you will put him in a good humor.” And Magistrate Voris was his rival for the favors of Miss Milly Hollister! And Mag- istrate Voris was a person with a deformed sense of humor! And Magistrate Voris was sitting in judgment this moment at Jeffer- son Market night court. And now des- peration, thrice compounded, rent the soul of the trapped victim of his own misaimed subterfuge. “T won't be taken to any night court!" he shouted, wrestling himself toward the edge of the sidewalk and dragging his com panion along with him. ‘I won't go there! I demand to be taken to a station house I’m a sick man and I require the services of a doctor.” “Startin’ to be rough-house all over again, huh?” grunted Switzer vindictively. “Well, we'll see about that part of it too right now!” Surrendering his lowermost clutch, the one in the silken seat of the suit of his writhing prisoner, he fumbled beneath the tails of his overcoat for the disciplinary nippers that were in his righthand rear trousers pocket. With a convulsive twist of his body Mr. Leary jerked himself free of the mittened grip upon his neckband, and as, released, he gave a deerlike lunge forward for liberty he caromed against a burdened ash can upon the curbstone and sent it spinning backward; then recovering sprang onward and outward across the gutter in flight. In the same instant he heard behind him a crash of metal and a solid thud, heard a sound as of a scrambling solid body cast abruptly prone, heard the name of Deity profaned, and divined without looking back that the ash can, conveniently rolling be- tween the plump legs of the personified Arm of the Law, had been Officer Switzer’s undoing, and might be his own salvation. With never a backward glance he ran on, not doubling as a hare before the beagle, but following a straight course, like unto a hunted roebuck. He did not know he could run so fast, and he could not have run so fast any other time than this. Beyond was a crossing. It was blind in- stinct that made him double round the turn. It wag instinct, quickened and guided by desperation, that made him dart like a rose-tinted flash up the steps to the stoop of an old-fashioned residence standing just beyond the corner, spring inside the storm doors, draw them to behind him, and crouch there, hidden, as pursuit went lum- bering by Through a chink between the door halves he watched breathlessly while Switzer, who moved with a pronounced limp and rubbed his knees as he limped, hobbled halfway up the block, slowed down, halted, glared about him for sight or sign of the vanished fugitive, and then misled by a false irail departed, padding heavily with his galoshed tread, round the next turn With his body still drawn well back within the shadow line of the “verhanging cornice Mr. Leary coyly protruded his head and took visual inventory of the neighbor- hood. So far as any plan whatsoever had formed in the mind of our diffident ad venturer he meant to bide where he was for the moment. Here, where he had shelter of a sort, he would recapture his breath and reassemble his wits. Even so, the respite from those elements which Mr. Leary dreaded most of all—publicity, observa- tion, cruel jibes, the harsh raucous laughter of the populace—could be at best but a woefully transient one. He was not re- signed——by no means was he resigned—to his fate; but he was helpless. For what ailed him there was no conceivable remedy. Anon jocund day would stand tiptoe on something or other; Greenwich Village would awaken and bestir itself. Discovery would come, and forth he would be drawn like a shy unwilling periwinkle from its shell, once more to play his abased and bashful role of free entertainer to guffawing mixed audiences. For all others in the great city there were havens and homes. But for a poor, lorn, unguided vagrant, en- meshed in the burlesque garnitures ef a three-year-old male child, what haven was there? By night the part had been hard enough — as the unresponsive heavens above might have testified. By the stark un- merciful sunlight; by the rude, revealing glow of the impending day how much more scandalous would it be! His haggard gaze swept this way and that, seeking possible succor where reason told him there could be no succor; and then as his vision pieced together this out- jutting architectural feature and that intoa coherent picture of his immediate surround- ings he knew where he was. The one bit of chancy luck in a sequence of direful catas- trophes had brought him here to this very spot. Why, this must be West Ninth Street; it had to be, it was-- oh joy, it was! And Bob Slack, his partner, lived in this identical block on this same side of the street. With his throat throbbing to the impulse of newborn hope he emerged completely from behind the refuge of the storm doors backed himself out and down upon the top step, and by means of a dubious illumina- tion percolating through the fanlight above the inner door he made out the figures upon the lintel. This was such and such a num- ber; therefore Bob Slack's number must be the second nurnber to the eastward, at the next door but one Five seconds later a fieet apparition of a prevalent pinkish tone gave a ranging house cat the fright of its life as former darted past latter to vault nimbly up the stone steps of a certain weatherbeaten four- story-and-basement domicile. Set in the door jamb here was a vertical row of mail slots, and likewise a vertical row of electric push buttons; these objects attesting to the fact that this house, once upon a time the home of a single family, had eventually undergone the transformation which in lower New York befalls so many of its kind, and had become a layer-like succes- sion of light-housekeeping apartments, one apartment to a floor, and the caretaker in - basement Since Bob Slack’s bachelor quarters were on the topmost floor Bob Slack’s push but- ton would be the next to the lowermost of the battery of buttons. A chilled tremu- lous finger found that particular button and pressed it long and hard, released it, pressed it again and yet again. And in the interval following each period of pressing Continued on Page 89)

Page 90

THE SATURDAY EVENING POST The Trade Mark Registered - THE TRUCK OF PROVED UNITS . 3 Acme ie Z, e a 4 SO*Proved Units Continental Red Seal Motor Timken Axles Timken Bearings Timken-Detroit Worm Drive Cotta Transmission Borg & Beck Clutch Ross Steering Gear Blood Bros. Universal Joints Detroit Springs Artillery Type Wheels Rayfield Carburetor Stewart Vacuum Feed Tubular Truck Type Radiator Centrifugal Type Governor Built in | to 5 ton models. Over size in capacity and dimensions Bodies built in our own factones SE SETS Fatien Eisemann High Tension Magneto L Ind R ‘. “ . United States Patent Office Ss ‘ To _ 4.% : n’ Awe.” This Seal on Your Truck Means that back of it stands the sum and sub- stance of all successful motor truck experience. It signifies that incorporated in one harmonious whole is to be found the essence of every successful and proved truck feature. This seal is the sign of Acme in truck con- struction — super-service. For the Acme, alone, in the truck field, adopted, without consideration of cost, those units of construction which the whole motor engineering world endorsed. With such a perfect combination of Acme Proved Units the Acme engineers have perfected a truck which has never required the employment of men steadily engaged on service trips all over the country—a truck which shows re-sale records of 100%. beet ery eee The remarkable construction of the Acme and the universal satisfaction it has given year in and year out have built this great over-a-million-dollar organiza tion with the financial resources to take care of a pro- duction that is doubling every year. Write for our book,‘ Pointers to Profits,” containing tnteresting facts about the Acme. Acme Motor Truck Co., 314 Mitchell St., Cadillac, Mich. CME ~ The Truck of 7 Proved Units . Sr January 25,1919 Pm eS ag aga ad

Page 91

(Continued from Page 87) the finger’s owner hearkened, all ears, for the answering click-click that would tell him the sleeper having been roused by the ringing had risen and pressed the master button that released the mechanism of the street door’s lock But no welcome clicking rewarded the expectant ringer. Assuredly Bob Slack must be the soundest sleeper in the known world. He who waited rang and rang and rerang. There was no response. Eventually conviction was forced upon Mr. Leary that he must awaken the care- taker—who, he seemed dimly to recall as a remembrance of past visits to Bob Slack, was a woman; and this done he must in- duce the caretaker to admit him to the inside of the house. Once within the build- ing the refugee promised himself he would bring the slumberous Slack to conscious- ness if he had to beat down that individual's door doing it. He centered his attack upon the bottom push button of all. Directly, from almost beneath his feet, came the sound of an areaway window being un- latched, and a drowsy female somewhat crossly inquired to know who might be there and what might be wanted. ‘It’s a gentleman calling on Mr. Slack,” wheezed Mr. Leary with his head over the banisters. He was getting so very, very hoarse. ‘I’ve been ringing his bell, but | can’t seem to get any answer.” “A gentleman at this time o The tone was purely incredulous. “Yes; a close friend of Mr. Slack’s,” assured Mr. Leary, striving to put stress of urgency into his accents, and only suc- ceeding in imparting an added hoarseness to his fast-failing vocal cords. “I’m his law partner, in fact. I must see him at once, please—it’s very important, very pressing indeed.” ‘Well, you can’t be seein’ him.” **C-can’t see him? What do you mean? “‘T mean he ain’t here, that’s what. He’s out. He’s went out for the night. He’s gin- erally always out on Friday nights— playin’ cards at his club, I think. And sometimes he don't come in till it’s near breakfast time. If you’re a friend of his I sh’d think it’d be likely you'd know that same. “Oh, I do —I do,” assented Mr. Leary earnestly; ‘ ‘only I had forgotten it. I’ve had so many other things on my mind. But surely he’ll be coming in quite soon now it’ s pretty late, you know.’ “Don’t I know that for myself without bein’ told?” “Yes, quite so of course; naturally so.” Mr. Leary was growing more and more nervous, and more and more chilled too. “ But if you'll only be so very kind as to let me in I'll wait for him in his apartment.” ‘Let you in without seein’ you or knowin’ what your business is? I should guess not! Besides, you couldn't be gettin’ inside his flat anyways. He’s locked it, unless he’s forgot to, which ain’t likely, him bein’ a careful man, and he must a-took the key with him. I know I ain’t got it.” “But if you'll just let me inside the build- ing that will be sufficient. I would much rather wait inside if only in the hall, than out here on the stoop in the cold.” “No doubt, no doubt you would all of that.”’ The tone of the unseen female was dryly suspicious. ‘But is it likely I’d be lettin’ a stranger into the place, that I never seen, before, and ain’t seen yet for that matter, just on the strength of his own word? And him comin’ unbeknownst, at this hour of the mornin’? A fat chancet!” “But surely, though, you must recall me—Mr. Leary, his partner. I’ve been here before. I’ve spoken to you.” “That voice don’t sound to me like no voice I ever heard.” “T’ve taken cold tered.” “So? Then why don’t you come down here where I can have a look at you and make sure?” inquired this careful chate- laine. “‘I’m leaning with my head over the rail of the steps right above you,” said Mr. Leary. ‘‘Can’t you poke your head out and see my face? I’m quite sure you would recall me then.” “With this here iron gratin’ acrost me window how could I poke me head out? Besides, it’s dark. Say, mister, if you’re on the level what’s the matter with you comin’ down here and not be standin’ there palaverin’ all the night?” “T—I—well, you see, I’d rather not come for just a minute—until I’ve ex- plained to you that—that my appearance night!” 9 that’s why it’s al- may strike you as being a trifle unusual; THE SATURDAY in fact, 1 might say, droll,” pleaded Mr. Leary, seeking by subtle methods of indi- rection to prepare her for what must surely foll ow. “Never mind explainin’— gimmea look! The suspicious tenseness in her voice in- creased. “I tell you this—ayther you come down here right this second or I shut the window and you can be off or you can go to the divil or go anywheres you please for all of me, because I’m an overworked woman and I need my rest and I’ve no more time to waste on you.” “Wait, please; I’m coming immediately,” called out Mr. Leary. He forced his legs to carry him down the steps and reluctantly, yet briskly, he pro- pelled his pink-hued person toward the ray of light that streamed out through the grated window-opening and fell across the areaway. “You mustn’t judge by first appear- ances,”’ he was explaining with a false and transparent attempt at matter-of-factness as he came into the zone of illumination. re m not what I seem, exactly. You see, “Mushiful Evans!” The exclamation was half shrieked, half gasped out; and on the words the window was slammed to, the light within flipped out, and through the glass from within came a vehement warn- ing: “Get away, you--you lunatic! Get away from here now or I’ll have the cops on you.” “But please, please listen,”’ he entreated, with his face close against the bars. “I assure you, madam, that I can explain everything if you will only listen.” There was no mercy, no suggestion of relenting in the threatening message that came back to him: “If you ain’t gone from here in ten seconds I'll ring for the night watchman on the block, and I’ll blow a whistle for the police. I’ve got one hand on the alarm hook right now. Will you go or will I rouse the whole block?” “Pray be calm, madam, I’ll go. I’m going now.” He fell back out of the areaway. Fresh uproar at this critical juncture would be doubly direful. It would almost certain] bring Switzer, with his bruised shanks. It would inevitably bring someone. Mr. Leary retreated to the sidewalk, figuratively casting from him the shards and potsherds of his reawakened anticipa- tions, now all so rudely shattered again He was doomed. It would inevitably be his fate to cower in these cold and drafty purlieus until No it wouldn't either! Like a golden rift in a sable sky a brand- new ray of cheer opened before him. Who were those married friends of Slack’s who lived on the third floor—friends with whom once upon a time he and Slack had shared a chafing-dish supper? What was the name? Brady? No, Braydon. That was it—Mr. and Mrs. Edward Braydon. He would slip back again, on noiseless feet, to the doorway where the bells were. He would bide there until the startled care- taker had gone back to her sleep, or at least to her bed. Then he would play a solo on the Braydons’ bell until he roused them. They would let him in, and beyond the per- adventure of a doubt, they would under- stand what seemed to be beyond the ken of flighty and excitable underlings. He would make them understand, once he was in and once the first shock of beholding him had abated within them. They were a kindly, hospitable couple, the Braydons were. They would be only too glad to give him shelter from the elements until Bob Slack returned from his session at bridge. He was saved! Within the coping of thestoop he crouched and waited— waited for five long palpitat- ing minutes which seemed to him as hours. Then he applied an eager and quivering finger to the Braydons’ button. Sweet boon of vouchsafed mercy! Almost instantly the latch clicked. And now in another instant Mr. Leary was within solid walls, with the world and the weather shut out behind him. He stood a moment, palpitant with mute thanksgiving, in the hallway, which was made obscure rather than bright by a ee pinprick of gaslight; and as thus he stooc fortifying himself with resolution for the embarrassing necessity of presenting him- self, in all his show of quaint frivolity, before these comparative strangers, there came floating down the stair well to him in a sharp half-whisper a woman's voice. “Is that you?” it asked. In fact, EVENING POST “Yes,” answered Mr. Leary truthfully. It was indeed he, Algernon Leary, even though someone else seemingly was ex- pected. But the explanation could wait until he was safely upstairs. Indeed, it must wait. Attempted at a distance it would take on a rather complicated aspect; besides, the caretaker just below might overhear, and by untoward interruptions complicate a position already sufficiently delicate and difficult. Down from above came the response: “All right then. I've been worried, you were so late coming in, Edward. Please slip in quietly and take the front room. I'm going on back to bed.” “All right!” grunted Mr. Leary. But already his plan had changed; the second speech down the stair well had caused him to change it. Safety first would be his motto from now on. Seeing that Mr. Edward Braydon apparently was like wise late it would be wiser and infinitely more discreet on his part did he avoid further disturbing Mrs. Braydon, who pre- sumably was alone and who might be easily frightened. So he would just slip on past the Braydon apartment, and in the hallway on the fourth floor he would cannily bide, awaiting the truant Slack’s arrival. On tiptoe then, flight by flight, he as cended toward the top of the house. He was noiselessly progressing along the hallway of the third floor; he was about midway of it when under his tread a loose plank gave off an agonized squeak, and, as involun- tarily he jumped, right at his side a door was flung open. What the discomfited refugee saw, at a distance from him to be measured by inches rather than by feet, was the face of a woman; and not the face of young Mrs. Edward Braydon, either, but the face of a middle-aged lady with startled eyes widely staring, with a mouth just dropping ajar as sudden horror relaxed a jaw muscles, and with a head of gray hair haloed about by a sort of nimbus effect of curl papers. What thestrange lady saw— well, aie thestrange lady saw may best perhaps be gauged by what she did, and that was instantly to slam and bolt the door and then to utter a succession of calliopelike shrieks, which echoed through the house and which im- mediately were answered back by a some- what similar series of outcries from the direction of the basement. Up the one remaining flight of stairs darted the intruder. He flung himself with all his weight and all his force against Bob Slack’s door. It wheezed from the impact, but its stout oaken panels held fast. Who says the’impossible is really impossible? The accumulated testimony of the ages shows that given the emergency a man can do any- thing he just naturally ios to do. Neither by training nor by habit of life nor yet by figure was Mr. Leary athletically inclined, but a trained gymnast might well have envied the magnificent agility with which he put a foot upon the doorknob and sprang upward, poising himself there upon a slip- pered toe, with one set of fingers clutching fast to the minute projections of the door frame while with his free hand he thrust recklessly against the transom. The transom gave under the strain, moving upward and inward upon its hinges, disclosing an oblong gap above the jamb With asplendid wriggle the fugitive vaulted up, thrusting his person into the clear space thus provided. Balanced across the open- ing upon his stomach, half in and half out, for one moment he remained there, his legs kicking wildly as though for a purchase against something more solid than air. Then convulsive desperation triumphed over physical limitations. There was a rending, tearing sound as of some silken fabric being parted biaswise of its fibers, and Mr. Leary’s quaint after sections van- ished inside; and practically coincidentally therewith, Mr. Leary descended upon the rugged floor with a thump which any other time would have stunned him into tem- porary helplessness, but which now had the effect merely of stimulating him onward to ion sh exertion. In a fever of activity he sprang up. Pawing a path through the encompassing darkness, stumbling into and over various sharp-cornered objects, bruising his limbs with contusions and knowing it not, he found the door of the inner room—Bob Slack’s bedroom—and once within that sanctuary he, feelingYalong the walls, dis- covered a push bulb and switched on the electric lights. What matter though the whole house grew clamorous now with a mounting and 89 increasing tumult? What mattered it though he could hear more and more startled voices commingled with the shat- tering shrieks emanating from the Braydon apartment beneath his feet? He, the hard- pressed and the sore-beset and the long- suffering, was at last beyond the sight of mortal eyes. He was locked in, with two rooms and a bath to himself, and he meant to maintain his present refuge, meant to hold this fort against all comers, until Bob Slack came home. He would barricade himself in if need be. He would pile fur- niture against the doors. If they took him at all it would be by direct assault and overpowering numbers. And while he withstood siege and awaited attack he would rid himself of these un- lucky caparisons that had been his morti- fication and his undoing. When they broke in on him— if they did break in on him—he would be found wearing some of Bob Slack’s clothes. Better far to be mistaken for a burglar than to be dragged forth lament ably yet fancifully attired as Himself at the Age of Three. The one thing might be explained and in time would be; but the other? He felt that he was near the break- ing point; that he could no more endure, He stopped where he was, in the middle of the room, with his eyes and his hands seeking for the seams of the closing of his main garment. Then he remembered what in his stress he had forgotten — the opening, or perhaps one should say the closing, was at the back. He twisted his arms rearward, his fingers groping along his spine. Now any norma! woman has the abnor- mal ability to do and to undo again a gar- ment hitching behind. Nature, which so fashioned her elbows that she cannot throw a stone at a hen in the way in which a stone properly should be thrown at a hen, made suitable atonement for this articular over- sight by endowing her joints with the facile knack of turning on exactly the right angle, with never danger of sprain or dislocation, for the subjugation of a back-latching frock. Moreover, years of practice have given her adeptness in accomplishing this achievement, so that to her it has become an everyday feat. But man has neither the experience to qualify him nor yet the bodily adaptability. By reaching awkwardly up and over hia shoulder Mr. Leary managed to tug the topmost button of his array of buttons out of its attendant buttonhole, but below and beyond that point he could not progress. He twisted and contorted his body; he stretched his arms in their sockets until twin pangs of agony met and crossed be- tween his shoulder blades, and with his two exploring hands he pulled and tumbled and pawed and wrenched and wrested, to make further headway at his task But the sewing-on had been done with stout thread; the buttonholes were taut and snug and well made. Those slippery flat surfaces amply resisted him. They eluded him; defied him; outmastered him. Thanks be to, or curses be upon, the passionate zeal of Miss Rowena Skiff for exactitudes, he, lacking the offices of an assistant undresser, was now as definitely and finally inclosed in this distressful pink garment as though it had been his own skin. Speedily he recog- nized this fact in all its bitter and abomi- nable truth, but mechanically, he continued to wrestle with the obdurate fastenings. While he thus vainly contended, events in which he directly was concerned were oc- curring beneath that roof. From within his refuge he heard the sounds of slimmin doors, of hurrying footsteps, of excite voices merging into a distracted chorus; but above all else, and from the rest, two of these voices stood out by reason of their augmented shrillness, and Mr. Leary marked them both, for since he had just heard them he therefore might identify their respective unseen owners. “There’s something—there’s somebody in the house!” At the top of its register one voice was repeating the warning over and over again, and judging by direction this alarmist was shrieking her words through a keyhole on the floor below him. ‘I saw it—him—whatever it was. I opened my door to look out in the hall and it—he—was right there. Oh, I could have touched him! And then it ran and I didn't see him any more and I slammed the door and began screaming.” “You seen what?” The strident question seemed to come from far below, down in the depths of the house, where the caretaker abided “Whatever it was, I opened the door and he was right in the hall there glaring at me.

Page 92

0 As to the Charms of Tobacco Larus & Broruer Co Richmond, Va My dear Sirs: As a pipe-smoker of some 40 feel that I really must write to tell you that after all these years | have at last atisfying tobacco, namely founda really s your Plug Slice Edgeworth that comes in labs. { have now been smoking it for ibout one year, but have not written be fore because | wanted to learn whether the charm of this tobacco would, like so many others, wear off. I now find that the more | smoke it, the more necessary it becomes to my bodily comfort Signed) We value the above letter highly, but we had to argue down grave doubts before Iwelling upon the harmotanysmok- ing tobacco But then women prob- ibly never read tobacco advertise- ments For years Wom in never openly recognized but one seriousrival, Much talk has been made about the bravery of the man who first dared to eat an oyster. What about the bold man who first dared to leave a woman tor a smoke? We often wonder if Sir Walter Raleig h, brave as he was, ever told Queen Elizabeth the truth about his long absences. If she ever caught him qjpure tly « nHyoying his pipe we ll, as we know, she w 8 quile a pirited woman, Nowadays, ask any young woman if sh« objects to smoking, and her reply invariably “No, L like it.” And they choose men who smoke. They knowsmokersare betternatured All men who smoke aren't good-natured, nor all men who don't ill-natured, but the best-natured men are almost all smokers \ pipeful of the right tobacco can charm away most of the small frets of daily life. The difficulty is to come upon a tobacco that brings such a charm into your life. Edgeworth is one of the tobaccos bought by our Government to soothe the jangled nerves of our men in the trenches, Edgeworth is the resource of many, many men pushing things along over here, but it may not, perhaps, be the tobacco for you, We don’t want to prejudice you against Edgeworth by boosting it too much, but we certainly would enjoy learning what you personally think of it. If you're willing to risk a postcard, we'll risk the tobacco. Send us your address to gether with that of the dealer ordinarily sup- plying you, and we will despatch to you gen erous samples of Edgeworth in both forms Plug Slice and Ready-Rubbed., kdgeworth Plug Slice is pressed into cakes, then cut by sharp knives into very thin moist slices. Rub a slice between the hands and it makes an ave rage pipe load, Edgeworth Ready-Rubbedcomesprepared io pour straight into your pipe. It packs nicely, and burns freely, evenly to the very bottom, getting better and better. Edgeworth is sold in sizes convenient for all purchasers, Edgeworth Ready-Rubbed in pocket-size packages sells for 15c; largersizes, We, and 70c; tin humidor, $1.30; in glass j rs, $1.40 Ede worth Plug Slice costs 15c, We, 70e, and $1.30. When the samples arrive, scrape out your pipe for a new guest. Fill the bowl with a generous load. Light up, lean back in your friendly old chair, and take a puff or two the first two for pure enjoyment —then some \ime later, when you feel quite ready, take a puff or two slowly, estimatingly, to decide just what you think of Edgeworth. Isthisthe tobacco you have been looking for so long? For the free samples upon which we ask your judgment, address Larus & Brother Co., 1 South 21st Street, Richmond, Va. To Retail Tobacco Merchanta—1f your jobber cannot supply you with Edgeworth, Larus & Brother Company will gladly send you prepaid by parcel post a one- or two-dozen carton of any size of Plug Slice ot Ready-Rubbed for the same price you would pay the jobber. THE SATURDAY I could have touched it. And then he ran and I ‘‘What was he like? I ast what was he like—it’s that I’m askin’ you!” The jani- tress was the one who pressed for an an- swer For the moment the question, pointed though it was, went unanswered. The main speaker—shrieker, rather—was plainly a person with a mania for details, and even in this emergency she intended, as now developed, to present all the principal facts in the case, and likewise all the incidental facts so far as these fell within her scope of knowledge. | them | yesterday by illness ‘I was awake,” she clarioned through the keyhole, speaking much faster than anyone alent this narrative can possibly hope to read the words. ‘I couldn’t sleep. I never do sleep well when I'm in a strange house. And anyhow, I was all alone. My nephew by marriage—Mr. Edward Bray- don, you know—had gone out with the gentleman who lives on the floor above to play cards, and he said he was going to be gone nearly all night, and my niece—I’m Mrs. Braydon’s unmarried aunt from Poughkeepsie and I’m down here visiting my niece was called to Long Island i it’s her sister who's ill with something like the bronchitis. And so he was gone and she was gone, and here I was all dees and he told me not to stay | up for him, but I couldn’t sleep well—lI never can sleep in a strange house—and just a few minutes ago I heard the bell ring and I supposed he had forgotten to take his latchkey with him, and so I got up to let him in. And I called down the stairs and asked if it was him and he answered back. But it didn’t sound like his voice. But I didn’t think anything of that. But of course it was out of the ordinary for him to have a voice like that. But all the same I went back to bed. But he didn’t come in and I was just getting up again to see what detained him—his voice really sounded so strange I thought then he might have been taken sick or something. But just as I got to the door a plank creaked and I opened the door and there it was right where I could have touched him. And then it ran and oh, what if “I’m askin’ you once more what it was like?” “How should I know except that — “Was it a big, fat, wild, bare-headed, seary, awful-lookin’ scoundrel dressed in some kind of funny pink clothes?” “Yes, that’s it! That’s him—he was all sort of pink. Oh, did you see him too? Oh, is it a burglar?” “Burglar nothin’! It’s a ravin’, pagin’ lunatic—that's what it is!" Oh, my heavens, a lunatic!” “Sure it is. He tried to git me to let him in and —— “Oh, whatever shall we do!”’ “Hey, what's all the excitement about?” A new and a deeper voice here broke into the babel, and Mr. Leary recognizing it at a distance, where he stood listening—but not failing, even while he listened, to strive unavailingly with his problem of buttons knew he was saved. Knowing this he ram- EVENING POST nevertheless retreated still deeper into the inner room. The thought of spectators in numbers remained very abhorrent to him. So he did not hear all that happened next, except in broken snatches. He gathered though, from what he did hear, that Bob Slack and Mr. Edward Braydon were coming up the stairs, and that a third male whom they called Officer was coming with them, and that the jan- itress was coming likewise, and that divers lower-floor tenants were joining in the march, and that as they came the janitress was explaining to all and sundry how the weird miscreant had sought to inveigle her into admitting him to Mr. Slack’s rooms, and how she had refused, and how with maniacal craft—or words from her to that effect—he had nevertheless managed to secure admittance to the house, and how he must still be in the house. And through all her discourse there were questions from this one or that, crossing its flow but in nowise interrupting it; and through it all percolated hootingly the terrorized out- cries of Mr. Braydon’s maiden aunt-in-law, issuing through the keyhole of the door behind which she cowered. Only now she was interjecting a new harassment into the already complicated mystery by pleading that someone repair straightway to her and render assistance, as she felt herself to be on the verge of fainting dead away. With searches into closets and close scrutiny of all dark corners passed en route, the procession advanced to the top floor, mainly guided in its oncoming by the clew deduced from the circumstance of the mad intruder having betrayed a desire to secure access to Mr. Slack’s apartment, with the intention, as the caretaker more than once suggested on her way up, of murdering Mr. Slack in his bed. Before the ascent had been completed she was quite certain this was the correct deduction, and so continued to state with all the emphasis of which she was capable. “He couldn’t possibly have got down- stairs again,”” somebody hazarded; ‘‘so he must be upstairs here still—-must be right round here somewhere.” “Didn't I tell you he was lookin’ for Mr. Slack to lay in wait for him and murder the poor man in his bed?” shrilled the care- taker. “Watch carefully now, everybody. He might rush out of some corner at us.” “Say, my transom’s halfway open!” Mr. Bob Slack exclaimed. “And by Jove, there’s a light shining through it yonder from the other room. He’s inside—we’ve got him cornered, whoever he is.” Boldly Mr. Slack stepped forward and rapped hard on the door. “Better come on out peaceably,” he called, ‘‘ because there’s an officer here with us and we've got you trapped.” “It’s me, Bob, it’s me,” came in a wheezy plaintive wail from somewhere well back in the apartment. “*Who’s me?” demanded Mr. Slack, like- wise forgetting his grammar in the thrill of this culminating moment. lgy—Algernon Leary.” January 25,1919 “Not with that voice, it isn’t. But I'll know in a minute who it is!” Mr. Slack reached pocketward for his keys. “Better be careful. He might have a gun or something on him.” “Nonsense!” retorted Mr. Slack, feeling very valiant. “I’m not afraid of any gun. But you ladies might stand aside if you’re frightened. All ready, officer? Now then!” “Please come in by yourself, Bob. Don't: don’t let anybody else come with you! If he heard this faint and agonized appeal from within, Mr. Slack chose not to heed it. He found the right key on his key ring, applied it to the lock, turned the bolt and shoved the door wide open, giving back then in case of an attack. The front room was empty. Mr. Slack crossed cautiously to the inner room and peered across the threshold into it, Mr. Braydon and a gray- coated watchman and a procession of half- clad figures following along after him. Where was the mysterious intruder? Ah, there he was, huddled up in a far corner alongside the bed as though he sought to hide himself away from their glaring eyes. And at the sight of what he beheld Mr. Bob Slack gave one great shocked snort of sur- prise, and then one of recognition. For all that the cowering wretch wore a quaint garment of a bright pink water- melonish hue, except where it was streaked with transom dust and marked with ash- can grit; for all that his head was bare, and his knees, and a considerable section of his legs as well; for all that he had white socks and low slippers, now soaking wet upon his feet; for all his elbow sleeves and his pink garters and his low neck; and finally for all that his face was now beginning, as they stared upon it, to wear the blank wan look of one who is about to succumb to a swoon of exhaustion induced by intense physical exertion or by acutely prolonged mental strain or by both together— Mr. Bob Slack detected in this fabulous oddity a resem- blance to his associate in the practice of law at Number Thirty-two Broad Street. “‘In the name of heaven, Leary ” he began. But a human being can stand just so many shocks in a ar number of min- utes—just so many. Gently, slowly, the gartered legs gave way, bending outward, and as their owner collapsed down upon his side with the light of consciousness flicker- ing in his eyes, his figure was half-turned to them, and they saw how that he was orna- mentally but securely accoutered down the back with many large pearl buttons and how that with a last futile fluttering effort of his relaxing hands he fumbled first at one and then at another of these buttons. “Leary, what in thunder have you been doing? And where on earth have you been?” Mr. Slack shot the questions forth as he sprang to his partner’s side and knelt alongside the slumped pink shape. Languidly Mr. Leary opened one coma- tose eye. Then he closed it again and the wraith of a smile formed about his lips, and just as he went sound asleep upon the floor Mr. Slack caught from Mr. Leary the softly whispered words, “I’ve been the life of the party!”

Page 93

“ = -K-K-Katy’’? ‘‘Smiles’’? ‘‘Sweet- K heart’’? ‘‘That’s the Kind of a Baby for Me’’? ‘‘The Tickle Toe’’? Well, what would your crowd be singing at a lively party? You can sing all these—and thou- sands more — old and new —if you have a Gulbransen to play them. No trouble to read a song roll. The words are printed as big as THIS right on the paper and each word appears at the moment it should be sung. Is Your Home Dull? Do people seldom ‘‘drop in’’? ‘ Do your parties ‘‘drag’’? Cheer things up with music—songs the folks can join in. Nobody ever tires of music— the variety is endless. The songs a mother sings to her baby— the rowdy chorus things the boys let out at stags—the good old hymns that mean so much in church—the love songs a man likes to hear his dearest gir] sing — Yes, and the waltz the girls could ‘just die dancing to’’— and today’s jazz fox-trot with the words everybody wants to know. THE SATURDAY EVENING POST Shp What Do You Think They’re Singing? Do You Know These Pieces? These 24 pieces are the most popular right now. Several kinds of music are represented Which of them would you pick out to play on your Gulbransen if you owned one? Smiles If I'm Not at the Roll Call Oh! How I Wish I Could Kiss Mother Good-bye Sleep Until My Daddy for Me Comes Home Everything Is Peaches "Till We Meet Again Down in Georgia Oh! Frenchy Indianola Oh! How I Hate to Ger When You Come Back, and Up in the Morning You Will Come Back \ Little Birch Canoe and My Belgian Rose Fee ‘ ‘ ' I'm Always Chasing Rain Sweet Hawaiian Moonlight bows I'm Sorry I Made You Cry K-K-K-Katy Dreamy Hawaiian Moon Ihere’s a Long, Long Trail For Your Boy and My Boy Over There Blue Danube Beautiful Ohio I'm Glad I Made You Cry Oui, Oui, Marie National Emblem It’s So Easy to Play —this Gulbransen Its pedals work so easily a baby can play the Gulbransen — just as shown in our famous trade mark. In fact, a certain baby did play the Gul bransen; that’s where we got the idea for the trade mark You can be breathless from dancing — or exhausted by a hard day’s work— yet play your Gulbransen enjoyably, delightfully. It seems to read your thoughts, so sympathetically does it respond to your touch Musical Possibilities That Equal Your Desires If you appreciate the finer music —if your taste In quiet moments runs to the master com posers—the (sulbransen is your instrument of instruments Pronounced Gul-BRAN-sen ( ULB RANSEN Player-Piano 91 Muratore—world-famous tenor—plays a Gul- bransen at home Harold Henry — America’s distinguished pianist—uses a Gulbransen in his studio to study the recorded playing of othe: virtuosi, You must put preconceived ideas behind you when you come to consider the Gulbransen. It has taken the drudgevy out of piano’ playing But left in it—yes, pur into it for most of us—th opportunity to play with all the expression our imaginations can concelve The Leading Player — and Nationally Priced kor two years, more Gulbransens have been made and sold than players of any other mak« Chink what this means. It is an astonishing record ‘Two things have made it possible. The sheer quality of the instrument—its sweet singing tone- its delightfully easy operation. And the Nationally Priced plan of doing business—each model has but one price, the same to everybody, everywhere in the U. $.—burned into the back of each instru ment before it leaves our factory Thinking men respect us for this policy. It makes the Gulbransen the standard of value wher ever it is sold. National prices, war tax paid White House Model $600 Town House Model $485 Country Seat Model 535 Suburban Model 450 The most substantial piano dealers have natu rally made the Gulbransen a feature of their busi ness. There is such a dealer near you. Look for the Gulbransen trade mark —the Baby at the Pedals—in his window, or ask us for his name and address. We will gladly send you our catalog GULBRANSEN-DICKINSON COMPANY $232 West Chic ayo Ave , Chi ago

Page 94

THE SATURDAY EVENING POST January 25,1919 I hy this charming living-room, the Armstrong's Linoleum r (a Parquetry Inlaid) 1s in perfect keeping with the decora tive scheme. Its attractive hard- Wood links and gratnings run clear through the material. It did be equally appropriate for a hall, dining-room or library. Pp? ROQUETRY Inlaid Linoleum floors can be cleaned, waxed and polished like hardwood, and never need refinishing. They are sanitary, economical and durable. rt rt of Home Furnishing ind ‘Decoration’’ Besides the Parquetry Inlaids, Armstrong’s Linoleum can be had his new book, by the President of The in five Jaspé (moire) effects; in seven New York School of Fine and Applied Art, plain colors; and in numerous hows how to apply the modern principles \ : : matting and carpet designs suitable hy Frank Alvah Par f home furnishing and decoration, so as to brin out the most attractive and_ livable for bedr« OMS, SeCwing-rooms and qualities of every room in the house. Ad . nurseries. ditional chapters cover every phase of linoleum linoleum, have the merchant’s ex- pert /ay it right. Then reasonable care will keep it right. The best way is to cement it down over heavy felt paper. Linoleum is made of powdered cork, wood flour and oxidized lin- seed oil, pressed on burlap. Genuine linoleum always has a burlap back, is flexible and not easy to tear. Be sure that you get it. Better still, ask for Armstrong’s Linoleum by name. sclection. layine and treating. Sent, tonethes But in whatever room you put There zs a difference. with de luxe color plates of fine home interiors, prepared under Mr Parsone cenation, on ARMSTRONG CORK COMPANY, LANCASTER, PA. receipt of twenty cents rite today ; LINOLEUM Arms For Every Room trondés Linoleum Circle A Trade nod Reg. U.S. Pat. Off in the House DEPARTMENT

Page 95

\ * ty ' a . 7 & q 4 7 ( \ \ \ ' | fi { ¥) { . 2 ‘ { @ i} i; | Ll | | a ‘ ¥ if we hadn’t we wouldn't be round joking and jollying her and playing bridge with her at such a time. “I winced of course,” said Nance, “‘in- side—to hear her. But of course I laughed at her again. That’s all I could do, natu- rally. And then she said she knew nowshe’d have him again herself. And everything else she wanted! And it was splendid. And then she went on,” said Nance, ‘‘and told me all about her plans. ***He’ll be a fighter of course, just like his dad; I know that,’ she said. ‘I’m sure, that’s all; just as I am about the other!’ **And I said that was good, and laughed. And she went on, smiling herself, and talk- ing and flushing up like a girl kid does when she is happy and excited. ‘Isn’t it wonderful, don’t you think,’ she said, ‘how brave everybody has been inthis war? All the boys you used to know. And how they all went and fought—-every- body! And how much you admire them for it—more than you ever thought you could. And now they are all coming home heroes!’ “And I said it was—yes. ““*And my boy will be just the same,’ she said. ‘I know that—naturally! But I thought I’d ask your advice about one thing. And that is about the name! I wanted to ask you because you have such good taste always. And it’s quite a re- sponsibility in a way—when his father isn’t here “And 4 just waited, wondering. “*T always thought I'd like to name him after his dad,’ she said to me. ‘ And Herbert Smith was all right too. But not Herbert Roland Smith! It seemed too much, some- how.’ What did I think? “TI told her—oh, I didn’t know. “** Will you let me ask you this, please?’ she said then. ‘It seemed to me I'd like to do this—if you thought it was all right! And I wanted you to tell me frankly what you thought. You know that General Sherman, that celebrated general in the Civil War? Well, he was from near where my people came from originally, before they came to New York to live. And it seemed to me it would be all right and kind of appropriate if I called him Herbert Sher- man Smith.’ “And I told her es ! perfectly, absolutely, ‘And she sighed then and smiled back at me when I pinched her cheek. ‘Because he’s going to be a fighter—just like his daddy is. A boy, and a fighter,’ she said. And I laughed and jollied her. And she thanked me again. And I said nonsense. “*You have, though,’ she said. ‘You helped me so much. I can’t tell you how much I’ve learned from you.’ “*What, for instance, do you know?’ I said, and laughed at her again. ‘*But she was terribly earnest and serious. “**Well, for one thing,’ she said, ‘ you’ve made me think!’ “*Who? I?’ I said. ‘That's a joke!’ “But she didn’t smile a bit—she went right on: “*VYou have, just the same. Before, I never thought a bit. I was—like a kid. I never thought of anything. But I’ve changed a lot—really. Lateiy, since you came here . I've been thinking quite a lot for me!’ “And I asked her what it was she'd thought out. “* About laughing,’ she said, ing, for one thing!" ‘Laughing?’ I said. ‘Yes; no matter what happens,’ she said—‘if you can! They say that’s the way our American boys fought over there laughing way up to the end —if they had ‘and fight- to! And doing crazy kiddish stunts —at- tacking with parasols they’d found!’ she THE SATURDAY EVENING POST INSURANCE MONEY (Concluded from Page 19) said. And in a way it looked foolish. But in a way it was all right. And didn’t I think so? “And I said yes, of course—it was great! “And in a way we're fighters here at home—aren’t we—we American women?’ she said. The poor young-one. In a differ- ent kind of a way, weren’t we? And it was up to us to do what we could. We couldn't do much, perhaps, but we could laugh any- way, and not get scared—and keep other people from being so—as much as we could. That's one thing a woman could do. That’s what she’d thought out anyhow and didn’t I think it was so? “And I said yes, of course I did. And I told her she was quite a little philosopher. “Well, she said that was what she'd thought out anyway—lying there after we went home afternoons, thinking over what nice times we'd had together. And if any- body was responsible for her thinking that, I was. “‘And I told her that was nice to hear anyhow. “And then she said that was just what she was going to do herself anyhow. She'd been raised kind of queer and soft, she knew. But after this she was going to fight, in a way, and laugh—whatever hap- pened! And keep laughing. Didn't | think that was the way—always-—for everybody? “And I said I certainly did. **And she said of course it wasn’t very much credit for her to think it—now she knew she was al! right herself! And then she stopped a minute and I asked her—just to say something—if there was anything else she’d thought. I had to,” said Nance, “say something! “‘And she said there was one thing—yes. And I asked her what it was. “*What I thought was this,’ she said, ‘that in a way the war was all over—for the boys. But for lots and lots of people here for American women all over—it was just ey ‘And I said nothing at all, hear her. ‘Thousands and thousands everywhere! And more and more thousands lately since these last lists came in that we got from that last terrible fighting. Thousands and thousands of women—just at the be- ginning of their fight. And worse in a way, and more terrible than for the boys a year ago— for they’ll know from the start-—the women—they never can win—never!’ she said, and stopped, looking at me. “*And I said yes, holding on to myself. *** And then, too, everybody round them will be likely to forget about them,’ she said, ‘and go right on as if they didn’t exist.’ “‘T just patted her hand; could do! “*T’'m not thinking about myself, hon- estly,’ she said. ‘I know I'm all right. You know that. Because I’m sure pretty sure—so late as this!’ “And I just gasped. “*But what I mean is this—what I’ve thought about was all those women—thou- sands and thousands—who will be just sit ting, thinking, till they are crazy the way I did. That’s fighting, isn’t it—awful fighting! All just sitting, thinking what to do; and thinking they are all sole alone and forgotten by. everybody! That we think the war is over! And what I say is, instead of forgetting, everybody's got to help them fight —especially now! And not forget them. See them and laugh with them and cheer them up—and play bridge with them or something. Laugh and fight with them—the way you did with me!’ “I smiled,” said Nance; “managed to! And I said that was a queer way to fight playing bridge! waiting to that was all I ‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘That's what our boys did, isn’t it? Laughed and joked and played when they fought—-even when they knew they hadn’t any chance! I don’t think it’s queer a bit. It’s something to be proud of, I think. It’s American!’ “And I just blinked and swallowed. “*Or that’s what I think anyhow,” she said after a while. ‘And that’s what I'm going to do—afterward—when Berto comes home—and—and everything!’ “By that time I was all right again; I'd got control of myself finally. I told her you bet that was the way!” said Nance, concluding. ‘And she said ‘Thank you ever so much.’ “And I got out,” said Nance, “‘as soon as I could; and ieft her lying there in her chair—kind of tired.” And we sat still for a while and myself. “T wonder, to hate me always “Why?” ‘For my lessons in laughing,” both Nance ” said Nance, “if she’s going afterward.” said Nance. Vv HEY ought to be killed! Shot! —. dered!"’ said Nance. In all thes happy years I’ve never seen her madder “Who? ” T asked with justifiable alarm “If I were a man I'd do it myself !"’ “Who? " T asked again. ‘Those criminals! Those insurance col lectors that send out those notices they'll collect insurance for you!” And I waited. ‘To people like these two women they find are helpless, with no knowledge of any thing and nobody to go to!” “Which women?” I inquired. “It wasn’t their Herbert Smith,” she stated, ‘“‘at all!” And I waited again. ‘It’s another one entirely that’s dead in France!” ““What!”’ I said, enthusing finally. “It’s another one, absolutely!’’ pro ceeded Nance. “‘In another regiment, from out West. Their Herbert Smith is alive! These people that wanted to collect the money got mixed. They got the wrong boy.” “There are,”’ I suggested, number of Herbert Smiths in France “TI don’t care,” said Nance. ‘Those people ought to be prosecuted just the same ! They say they are all over everywhere those criminals like these—getting hold of helpless folks who don’t know any better Getting their money for doing what the Government would do for them better if they never heard of them. And then making horrible blunders like this one. Horrible!” “And still,” I reflected, “it must be something of a comfort —this last informa- tion from them.” ‘“‘What?” asked Nance, still truculent. “Knowing that Herbert is still alive; that there was this slight mistake.’ And suddenly Nance laughed. “That isn’t the only one,” she said “Only what?” ‘*Mistake about Herbert Smith! “Oh,” 1 said. “It wasn't either!” “Oh,” I said again “It was a girl!” said Nance. do you think?” “T’ve given up—long ago!” I said “She’s named it after me. Isn’t tha ridiculous?”’ “*Oh, I don’t know!” “Don’t know!” said Nance “She wanted,” I said, “‘the name of a celebrated fighter, didn’t she—from the first?”’ “Don’t be any sillier than you are naturally,’ said Nance, kissing me “probably a Herbert Sherman Smith ‘And what SSeeeeeseaeeeeeeaeuauae O save on shoes buy | | for quality, and not price. Buy shoes that wear the longest, and give the greatest amount of satisfaction in com- fort and Fl Dt he ims and you ave Nine Dollars and up Hlorshe qualit conon i Look for na 1 shox appearance. Buy The Florsheim Shoe Company Chicago, U.S. A. Semi- liquid and viscous roducts of all kinds are filled on the famous 1s C@® FILLING MACHINE je Jam, Preset Fruit Butters Honey, Mustard, Molasse ( lensed Milk ilad Dressing, Lard, Syru Paints, Varnishes, Glue, Ointments, Grease, Tar Fills accurate quantiti« to each container No waste of product. Hand gl tin and paper container plan and equip plete pt nts for the | Packaging a olig ! | i THE KARL KIEFER MACHINE CO. Get Our Booklet V Cincinnati, U.S.A PSSSSSSSSS SRE R SSK EEKERESEE EEE EEE EERE E REE Cut Me Out and mail me, with your name and address, to The Curtis Publishing Company, 828 Independence Square, Phila- delphia, Pa. I will bring you full details about how you can make $5 or $10 a week spare time! extra in your Name Address ‘ity State SSSSSSSE SRR eee EEEEEeeaEeEeREESEreeEeuee

Page 96

*** He’s not married, then?’ “T laughs. ‘No, lady. Both of ’em are gun-shy.’ She looks puzzled an’ I adds: ‘They don’t have nothin’ t’ do with the ladies, miss.’ ‘*Oh. Then he’s th’ inventor?’, “*That’s him, miss.’ Then I freezes up a bit, rememberin’ orders. I'm t’ report any- body who asks questions about ol’ Pop. But I tumbles that she ain't no officer’s wife or nothin’, an’ I asks what he’d said to her. *** He mistook me for someone else,’ she says. So help me, if there’s two like that in Manila the place is due t’ go on the blink in a week. Then she lowers the veil an’ goes off toward th’ exit, me trailin’. Had t’ find out where she was puttin’ up. An’ hang me if she doesn’t go plump into that joint in th’ Escolta where Murphy an’ me was thrown out last month an’ just missed restin’ up in the bay! Which shows that you can’t dope a woman out by her looks.” 701 MMHE young woman—she was possibly twenty-six — eventually reached her room. Her maid welcomed her effusively. “Sarah, we must leave here at once! Pack.” ‘“‘Another hotel before we sail?”’ cried the astonished maid. “Yes. And until I give you further orders never speak my name. Always call me madame. Be on your guard about this. I’m very fond of you, and I’ve let you have your way often. It may be a matter of life and death. We shall dine here in the room. Have a carriage at the curb at six-thirty. Fortunately our heavy luggage went on. When you pack the steamer trunk lay all the darker and heavier things on top, and the box of make-up where | can reach it handily. I have decided to grow old quickly. I understand, Sarah; you are becoming bewildered. No leas soam |,” “*Madame's nerves 7 “They happen to be steel now. Don’t worry about me. Only, be sure always to obey me—if you love me!” “If L love you! Oh, madame, a mother could not love her ay more than I love you! You left America so gayly and happily to see this Orient. The sea voya built you up. And then that dreadful night in Shanghai. You came and awoke me and clung to me all night, and you would not speak. And then it began. We move from one place to another, not like persons tour- ing—-like people who have done something wrong! And I know that you have done nothing wrong. Ah, madame, what is hap- pening to us?” “So strange a thing, Sarah, that your poor brain would not accept the facts if I told them. Be patient with me.” “Oh, madame, who would not be patient with you? I am French; we know what the word gratitude means. Command me; I obey. But yes! Here is a cable for you, madame. I will go order the dinner and the carriage.” Her mistress took the cablegram ab- sently. She was not at all excited over the receipt of it, for the simple reason she knew exactly what it would contain—a single word: Hurry! Once a week, often twice, this same distracted word: Hurry! It was always at Cook's or at the American Express. The poor man! He would soon be THE SATURDAY EVENING POST THE YELLOW TYPHOON (Centinued from Page 7) pulling his hair. When she heard the door close behind the maid instinctively she picked out a channel 'twixt the bed and chairs and proceeded to navigate it back and forth. The Yellow Typhoon! They called her that—strange men, in Yokohama, Tokio, Hong-Kong, Shanghai; and always with that air men use toward women of a cer- tain type. Everything in her called out wildly for vengeance, reprisal; and she was bound tragically, inconceivably, like a dreamer in the mesh of some monstrous nightmare , . Tostamp on her as he would on a cobra if he found her! Helpless; all she could do to defend herself would be to move on, hide. That was what galled her; she could not retaliate. But one thing she could do—forestall, anticipate, nullify. And, oh, she would do that with all the strength and cunning she possessed ! Horrible as it was, that meeting in the gardens was fortunate. She now possessed a handhold. Hallowell, a naval inventor, living in a villa out in San Miguel, on the Pasig. Blue prints. There was sense to all those broken sentences which had come through yonder door a few days gone. Danish words, her own blood tongue! She had not seen the man, so she could not de- scribe him. But his companion! She stopped before the mirror and stud- ied her face carefully. What an incredible thing it was! Mirrors, once so pleasant to gaze into, had now become chambers of horror. She no longer saw herself; she saw a grave open and the dead arise. After eight years! And to stumble upon the truth through the agency of strange men addressing her familiarly! The Yellow Typhoon! Drawn by instinct, repelled by intellect and breeding, she felt as if invis- ible wild horses were rending her. In that room there, within reach of her voice and hand! Whither had she gone, this ghost? Terror and cowardly fear had held her back from making her own pres- ence known; and now it was too late. She had fallen asleep somewhere, back there in China, and hadn’t yet waked up. That must be it! The Yellow Typhoon! And she had stumbled across the wrecks inno- cently—across an open grave which had never been filled! Berta, in the next room! Who, then, was in that grave in Green- wood? The malicious ¢ Seale of it! Very well. She would telephone this Captain Hallowell. She would warn him. She became conscious of the unopened cablegram. She tore off the edge of the envelope. For a moment she thought there must be some mistake. Jargon. Then she woke. “‘Oh!” she cried. She ran over to her steamer trunk, and things flew about for a space. The result was a diary book, from the rear pages of which she took a folded square of tissue pa. She sat down, cross-legged, and aid this square carefully upon a knee. Ten minutes later she had the message decoded: Mathison. Hallowell’s blue prints. Nippon Maru. He may be followed. Sail with him. Keep in touch with Washington wireless. This is your chance, She sprang up, found a match and ap- plied it to the cablegram, powdering the ashes. Alive! She was alive again. What she had stumbled upon disconnectedly was now made clear. Her chance! She had a great debt to pay, and here was the oppor- tunity to pay it. Pay it she would, through fire and water. She would show them that there was one who could be grateful. Fame and riches and honor; she owed for these. She would pay the debt. Singular thing! In these months of wandering in this bewildering maze of dark and yellow peoples no one had ever recognized her. And yet it wasn’t so singu- lar, if one thought it me Her world was at home, busy with w She would edeghens ‘Hallowell at once and warn him that he was in danger. And the thought of him brought back the thought of Berta. The colossal irony! So be it. If Berta stood in her way she would crush her, relentlessly, inexorably. And what was Berta? Only a wandering ghost,'a lie. A phantom men called The Yellow Ty- phoon. Her telephone call, however, was not answered. Apparently there was no one at the villa in San Miguel. She would have to drive out and leave a note. Either the captain or Mathison, his friend, would find it when he returned. She found a Tagalog with a tough Manchurian pony, and she went clattering away into the night. The dry monsoon carried the dust along with her. Just about this time a man in civilian clothes but with authority written dis- tinetly on his tanned face entered the hotel in the Escolta. The proprietor began ob- sequiously to dry-wash his hands. “The Sefior Morgan!” ‘Where's Berta Nordstrom, the woman known as The Yellow Typhoon?” “She?” A gesture. “She went away a week ago, sefior. ‘She is here now. a little after five.” “That is impossible.” F “T say she did. Bring her down. She wore pongee and a white pith helmet.” “She? Oh, that was not the Nordstrom woman. No one here has seen this woman’s face. She wears a veil always, and dines in her room.” “Bring her down.” “But, sefior, she left at six-thirty.” “What? Where did she go?” “That I don’t know.” “The devil! Any man with her?” “No, sefior. Shall I take you to her room?” wi “No. She fooled you.’ ‘That is not possible, i the two women were here at the same time. I can prove that, sefior.”” “T have seen the Nordstrom woman. The description of the woman in the pith helmet agrees absolutely.” “T cannot help that, sefior. They were here at the same time, though they did not meet.” “All right. If I find you haven't told me the truth we'll lock up the place. You are not very good Americans round here. Good night.” Outside in the street Morgan, of the In- telligence who switched from uniform to mufti frequently—-pushed back his hat, perplexed. “Two? Impossible! A trick. I'll seta man to watch. I'll quiz that marine again. If he didn’t describe the Nordstrom woman I'll eat my hat!” She was seen to enter January 25,1919 Could he have peered into one of the thousand huts of bamboo and nipa palm in the Tondo he might have been convinced of one thing—that there was still a thrill left in the dizzy old world for men even as blasé as himself. A woman wearing the gay little costume of a high-caste Chinese woman sat on a cushion, her legs curled under her. She was smoking a cigarette. From a brass bowl at one side of her rose faint spirals of smoke. Into this bowl she flicked the ash. There was a smile, inscru- table, on her lips, the smile particular to one god and one woman, Buddha and Mona Lisa. By and by she picked up a fresh cigarette; but she did not light it. She broke it in two. In fancy it was a man. The little Tagalog serving girl squatting on the floor and blowing chaff from rice could not keep her wondering gaze off this exquisite creature, whose hair shone like the gold bangles on the ankles of the dan- cing girls. There would be a good deal of chaff in that rice when the time came to cook it. Vv MMEDIATELY after chow that night Mathison and Hallowell entered the liv- ing room, filling their pipes. They were both smiling, each with the idea that he was bucking up the other. For they were at the parting of the ways, these two, and they might never meet again. At dinner they had talked of everything but that which was uppermost in their thoughts. In the center of the living room was a long trencher table—a slab of wonderful mahogany propped by enormous boles of Calcutta bamboo. One end was stacked with books and magazines. The blank space at the other end was Hallowell’s pet abiding place. Here after the day’s work was done he would wrestle with his me- chanical problems. Hallowell fired his pipe and held out the flaming match toward Mathison, who man- aged to catch the last flicker. They waited until Paolo, the Spanish servant, went below with the dishes. Of late they had become a little suspicious of the Spaniard. He loitered in the dining room when there was no legitimate excuse. “Well, you lucky son-of-a-gun,” said Hallowell, ‘in a few weeksfyou'll be ram- paging up the main, with proper sea boots on your feet and a drab terrier under them. Lord, how I wish I were thirty instead of forty-five! But I’ve walked my last bridge. This is my chart room. Of course if I wanted to pull a wire or two I could get to Washington. But I’ve certain ideas about the Navy, and I don’t want them actually touched. In Washington a chap sees the seams of the service—wires, timeserving, and all that. But out here it’s the fighting machine. We can’t all go potting subs, but some of us can make the potting easier.” Mathison put his hands on the other's shoulders. ‘Bob, you’re the most lovable man God ever gave to another for a com- rade. And I’m going to miss you like the devil. And more, I’m going to worry over you, you're so absent-minded.” “That's a gift, that. We absent-minded dubs are always too busy to waste time wailing. Lord, but these two years have been pleasant to me! I know—sometimes I have been moody and grumpy; but I believe you always understood.” (Centinued on Page 96) i see aeeteaieee rae rere —

Page 97

THE SATURDAY EVENING POST \ OT ATE IPT ERI me mR RE ETRE Em = “ \) . ¥ 4 o i 4 4) \ { F) i , i} % \ p| 1 | j ly is THE GARGoYLE— the world symbol of scientific lubrication. The red Gargoyle appears on cans and barrels } which leave Vacuum Oil Company refineries scat } tered over the globe. y) a . ‘ The red Gargoyle points the way to correct lubrication on six continents. It hangs out over i garage doors in every country w here motor cars . ‘ - ° k are a factor. In the ports of the world it ts , looked for by owners of steamships. f . 7 . . a It is a servant to electricity, steam and gas. It i gives these power-sources their right to work at a tull efficiency. f Every nation on the two hemispheres recog- nizes the red Gargoyle. It is their guide-post to Hf mechanical efficiency. .. 2 : ee \ f y i} * é " VACUUM OIL CO *s ~ " ~ Specialists in the manufacture of v Be J y high-grade lubricants for every class of machinery. l . \ Obtainable everywhere in the world 4 ¥ ‘ ae Wa SAG aad.

Page 98

(Continued from Page 94) “Yes. A woman somewhere who wasn’t worth it.” Hallowell nodded ‘And she’s gone; vani hed,”” went on Mathison ‘How do you figure that out?” a ked He ullowell curiously ‘For more than a week now you have been going about with a tune on your lips —airs from old light operas we went to in the happy day I've never asked ques- tions: I’m not going to now.” ‘A nightmare and I’ve just waked up,” said Hallowell, staring at the coal in his pipe. “‘It wasn’t natural for me to gloom. I'm cheerful by nature, the same as you. I'd tell you the whole story if I thought it worth while. Women are all right. It was my misfortune to become interested in the I wonder if Cunningham would come up and share the place with me?” CThat’s odd! This very day I tapped him on the subject and he’s crazy to get out here.’ ‘That's fine! Two years; been the happiest I've ever known “God bless you, Bob! Remember, I made no pull for thi ‘You poor lubber! The whole lot of us have been watching you eat your heart out. You had to go. And they had to send you. iturday it's a great adventure; an adventure from the moment you step on board the Nippon Maru until you march up Pennsylvania Avenue in the Peace Parade! Funny thing. You'll get through. Feel it: one of those old wives’ hunches Made all your plans?” “Yes ‘How are you going to carry them Mathison laughed. ‘Not even to you, Bob. But these little blue prints of yours wrong one and they’ve or, are going to Washington. Fire and water and poison gas won't stop me. This is go- ing to be rather an unusual stunt. The moment I land in.San Francisco I shall be under the friendly shadow of the greatest organization of its kind in the world —the Secret Service. When | step from the ship I shall wear a little green ribbon; from train to train I shall wear it. I shan’t know anything about it, but those boys will have their eyes upon me. Simple; can’t fail. At any time if I'm in trouble all I’ve got to do is to set up a yodel, and the trouble is eliminated. On the other hand, I'm going to stay snug in my cabin. I’m not going to stick my head out until I step from one train to another. On board the Maru, however, I've got to depend upon myself. The thing has got about, Bob I don't mean my end of it It's got about that you've done a big thing. I've a strong idea that I'm being watched.” “No doubt of it You're the only in- timate friend | have. These damned Ger- mans! They're as thick as flies in this town. And how the devil is a man to know? Swedes, Danes, Norwegians, Finns—Teu- tonic, all of them. But so long as their pa- pers are correct we can't lay a hand on them.’ ‘When will you have the extra stuff ready?” *To-night I'll have it all out on old Number Nine print And you'll carry that along with you.” Honestly, Bob, I'm worried about that print being here in the house I don't trust Paolo. He's Spanish; and, though the Euro- pean Spaniard has forgotten, the Philippine Spaniard still covertly hates us.” ‘Nonsense! Number Nine is utterly worthless without the key print But if anything should happen to me before you go don’t forget that little red book in the wall safe. Morgan, of the Intelligence, gave me those names. They'll be worth looking at. Suspects, too clever to handle.” “To hell with the Ki!" came raucously from the darkened dining room. The two men laughed “You'll be taking Malachi along with you?” asked Hallowell “Would you like him?” “Like him? Why, God bless you, I'd be having you to talk to, with that bird round! He's a wonder, The way he picks up things is uncanny.” “He's yours.’ “Honestly? We ll, by George, that's mighty fine of you!” ‘He's served his turn. He amused me when I hadn't anyone to talk to. He's yours as much as mine anyhow. He talks for you as much as he does for me. Besides, the poor little beggar hates the sea. If I took him aboard the destroyer he'd break his neck trying to keep on his perch,” “That bucks me up a lot, Mat. I’m very fond of that parrakeet. Going out?” ‘Tailor. I’m buying a cits. Best for me to travel incog if | can. Last fitting. I'll be back.” ‘Fire and water and poison gas. You'll pull through.” “You bet I will! Think of the yarn spinning when I’m off duty! I can tell the wondering gunners that I saw the begin- ning of the idea, that I . now the old son- of-a- gun who invented it. I'll be back at nine o'clock.’ “T'll be here,” replied Hallowell, “‘ wait- ing for you. Though I may turn in any later than nine. So long.” Mathison went down the path. Halfway to the gate he turned and stared up at the lighted windows. He could see the shadow of Hallowell’s huge shoulders on the cur- tain. The dear old stick-in-the-mud! What would he do without someone to watch over him? He strode on, closing the gate behind him witha musical clang. His tailoring required more time than he had made allowance for; the Chinaman hadn't made the coat sleeves quite short enough, Thus, when he stepped off the trolley car which bisected the street less than a quarter of a mile from the villa a five minutes’ walk, tonicky on sl rious nights like this—it was nine-twenty by his wrist watch. He swung along with a jaunty stride, whistling the latest tune that had come out, Oh, Boy, Where Do We Go From Here? He felt like a butterfly that had just cut through its cocoon and found the world a pretty good place to live in. No more fountain pens and signing endless pay checks, but out in the open where the fight- ing sailor belonged. In two months’ time he would have his drab little terrier under his sea boots; and he would be writing his John Hancoc k wi h depth bombs instead of fountain pens. But for the thought of leav- ing Bob behind he would have been the happiest man on earth. These cogitations came to an abrupt end. He stopped, A picture had flashed into range. A carriage driven like mad had swooped under an are light; and the ve- hicle was coming in his direction. A golden fog of dust rose up under the lamp. As there was another are light opposite to where he stood Mathison decided to wait. The carriage came thundering on. The driver was standing up. As it rattled past—on the two port wheels— Mathison had a glimpse of the passenger. A woman! And she was holding on for dear life. He gathered one vague impression—that she was young. “What the dickens is her hurry?” He drew his hand across his chin. ‘No boat or train at this hour. Drunken Tagalog probably. Too late for me to do anything.” He continued on. He began whistling another tune—Where’s the Girl for Me? | She may pass me hy and never know She was the girl for me! When he reached the villa gate he looked up inquiringly The incandescent lamp projecting from the keystone was out. Usually this burned until dawn. Mathison gave it passing thought—wires burned out probably —unlocked the gate and marched down the bamboo-lined path to the villa door. Here again he paused. No lights. “I see. Beggar's gone to bed, and tl rogue Paolo has sneaked off to a coc kfigh t. Bob ought to give him the boot.’ He climbed the stairs sile ntly and went to his room. He did not cross the center of the house to accomplish this; he merely followed the veranda corridor, He tossed his cap on the bureau, yawned luxuriously, for he was tired, and sat down on the edge of the bed to take off his shoes. But he immediately ceased all movement. The parrakeet was talking—vulgar Hindustani and equally vulgar English: “Mat, you lubber, where’s my tobacco? Chup!" Which is Hindustani for “Stop your noise!” Mathison stared, his expression one of puzzlement. Malachi never made a racket at night unless he was profoundly disturbed. What ailed the bird? And where the devil was Bob? He decided to investigate. “Mat! . Bahadur Sahib! . Chota Malac hi! Bounder, take that ace out of your sleeve! . To hell with the Ki! M: athison, Hallowell and Company, and be damned to you! . . Malachi!’’—in a singular kind of wail. A word about this parrakeet. He was famous in Manila, at least among the younger officers in the Navy and the Army THE SATURDAY EVENING POST stationed there. Certain parrots and parra- keets talk fluently. The brain, about the size of your finger tip, is memory in the concrete. Men of science are still pulling their beards over the talking parrot, but their phrases haven’t fooled anybody; they’re just as much in the dark as you and I. The birds are childlike in some respects. You teach the feathered emeralds this or that; and then some day when you are try- ing to show them off they confound you— and regale your company—by rattling the family skeleton. Like children, they store away a good many things not intended for their ears. Malachi—I believe they named him after Mulvaney’s elephant—had been taught many phrases which pass in ward- rooms but are taboo in parlors. Only Mal- achi did not know it. Why men teach birds to swear I don’t know, unless it be that a ribald oath uttered by innocence in the a! - solute is a man’s idea of humor. Malachi’s masters had taught him to memorize the names of a few cronies who occasionally dropped in for poker or bridge; and there was always a hilarious uproar when the bird gravely and unexpectedly demanded that So-and-So drop the ace he was hiding in his sleeve. But he had the habit of all talking par- rots, big or little, of shutting up shop for hours at a stretch, and not even a plantain or a plump mangosteen would tempt him to break his silence. A truculent little green bird, no bigger than a robin, but with the spirit of a disgruntled Bayard. There were no doors upstairs except to the cement shower. All the other door- ways were hung with bead-and-bamboo cur- tains. Mathison parted the one which fell between the corridor and the dining room. It tinkled mysteriously as it dropped be- hind him. Where was Bob? He listened. He could hear the parrakeet moving about in his cage. When agitated, Malachi had a way of pulling himself up to the swing and solemnly clambering down to the perch, repeating the maneuver over and over. Mathison’s glance trailed to the curtain between the dining room and the living room. A broad band of moonshine entered through one of the windows, broke against objects, splashed the lower fringe of the curtain, and ended in a magic pool on the grass matting. It seemed to him as if every nerve and muscle in his body winced and pressed back. It was almost like a physical blow. It took a full minute for the vertigo to pass; and when it passed it left his tongue and lips dry, his throat hot. In the center of that magic pool of moon- shine was a hand, sinisterly inert. Mathison fought nausea, terror, fought the paralysis gathering in his legs, and pushed through the curtain, feeling along the wall for the key button to all the lights. He blinked a moment in the glare that followed, Then, whichever way he looked—havoc! The long table, the stands and chairs overturned, the phonograph record files empty and flung about, the glass in the bookeases shattered and the books in a helter-skelter, the top of the piano swept clear of Hallowell’s antique bronzes, draw- ers out, papers and blue prints scattered everywhere—and the quiet form of his friend on the floor! *‘Bob!” cried Mathison, the anguish of that moment the greatest he had ever known. “Bob! . . God in heaven!” He knelt. Dead. The body was still warm. Fifteen or twenty minutes ago Hal- lowell had been alive. . . . The length of a pair of coat sleeves—an infinitesimal thing like that! Mathison strangled the great heaving sob. A pair of coat sleeves. The irony of it! But for a trifle like that he would have been home in time and this would never have happened. . . . Bob! Slowly Mathison rose. The anguish, the tenderness slowly left his handsome face. It became hard, a little older, and there flashed from his eyes a relentless fury. He neither cursed nor gesticulated; all his subsequent acts were quiet ones. He prowled about the room, his scrutiny that of a man who knew how to hunt for little things; but he found nothing that would indicate the identity of any of the assailants. A foot or so beyond the Bokhara lay a small bronze elephant, one of Hallowell’s paper weights. Mathison did not touch it; he would never be able to touch that again. Bob Hallowell, matey, straight and loyal and brave—done to death in this fashion! Mathison leaned against the jamb of the door, his face in the crook of his elbow. The one human being he had loved in January 25,1919 years—as men sometimes love each other! And while he had been fussing over the sleeves of a civilian’s coat Bob had sobbed out his life on the floor there! It was not the end itself, it was the manner of the end that was so horrible. Bob, who had always prayed that he might die at sea! Mathison flung his arm from his eyes. The woman in the white pith helmet! But immediately he dismissed this idea. There had been no woman here. Only three men or more could have beaten down Hallowell, who was tremendously strong and active. What a fight it had been! And in the end—probably as he was getting the best of it—someone had struck him down from behind. And he had crawled toward the dining room; for there was a sinister trail across the grass matting. Dying, he had crawled toward the dining room. Why? Why had he not let them search? The uselessness of it! He had thrown away his life to justify an instinct—the active resentment of a brave man against per- mitting alien hands to meddle with-his be- longings. Bob had always been without guile, moral resiliency; like a bulldog he had never retreated, stepped back. “Mat, you lubber, where’s my to- bacco? . . . Malachi!’ Once more that singular wail. Mathison shuddered. It was horrible to hear the bird scream these familiar words. All at once he was struck by an oddity. Malachi had never wailed his name like that before; whenever he uttered it he did so briskly and cockily. The sight of a blue print, however, caused Mathison’s thought to switch instantly into another channel. Number Nine! Now he understood why Bob had fought. Swiftly Mathison sifted the prints—old ones Hallowell had prob- ably been mulling over. Number Nine was not among them. Still, to make sure, he opened the wall safe behind the piano. This was empty except for a small red book such as men use to carry addresses in. He re- stored the prints to their hiding place but he retained the book. Number Nine, with all Hallowell’s new annotations and com- putations, in the hands of the enemy! What if they had no key print? What mat- tered it if they could not apply the prin- ciple so long as they understood that this menace existed? “Damn them all into the blackest depth of hell—the low murderous sneaks!” Once more the militant sailor, he stepped to the telephone which was attached to the wall and took down the receiver. He stared blankly into the black cup of the trans- mitter and slowly replaced the receiver on the hook. Wires cut, outside somewhere; and all official Manila to be notified at once of the double catastrophe! He would be obliged at once to run down to the gover- nor’s bungalow. A sickening weakness swept over him again. He reached blindly round for a chair, righted it and sat down with his head in his hands. He would have to get a good grip on himself before starting out. After a while he raised his head and kept his gaze upon the walls of the room, with strange detachment noted many of ‘the curiosities which sailors pick up in Oriental ports, not for their intrinsic value but for their associa- tions. A good deal of it was junk from a collector’s point of view; but Mathison knew that there was not money enough in the world to buy a single blade, pistol, bird wing, butterfly, claw. He would keep them always. It was dreadful to sit there, blinking and choking and trying not to look. It was almost as if the body cried out ‘‘ Look at me! Look at me!” A terribly compelling attraction! Damn them! They had ran- sacked the room while Bob lay there sob- bing out his life. Air! The room was stifling him. He staggered out to the east veranda. Here he fell to pacing, and gradually his strength returned. “Malachi!” cried the parrakeet, but briskly now. The sound of one of his masters moving about reassured him; for these odd little ringnecks recognize their friends even as dogs recognize theirs. But the living master no longer heeded. Up and down the veranda Mathison strode, his step now springy and noiseless. He was in full command of his faculties. From time to time he made gestures; they were catlike. To tear, bruise, rend! A cold berserker rage had taken possession of him, one of those upheavals of hate which, in- stead of blinding, clarify, the fires of which burn steadily until the end is attained. (Continued on Page 98) \ 4 4 vf

Page 99

\t *, 6c , | [am penalized if ever { , one comes back’’ . a ; rf . G 5 ; | ' \ W 4 : ! \ = MGS ob i P Ihe hi a wee” O ome KEE ‘ ~ di J va a » va ( >? ph& hod THE SATURDAY EVENING POST Uniform Tires Mean No Second Bests’ Long-Distance Millers Not Only Look, But Wear Alike E do not claim that no tires equal the Miller. Many makers build some tires as good. But how can the buyer tell those “lucky” casings from lesser ones that look identical ? The greatest problem a manufacturer faces is how to build all his tires like his best ones. This we have solved. And the reason each Miller wears like its brother is much discussed. Here are the facts: Uniform Workmanship Any maker who pays the price can get the same super quality of raw materials. Also the same machinery, for machines are standard too. But uniform mileage is governed by uni- form workmanship and must be as long as tires contain handwork. If the workmanship varies, the mileage is bound to vary. That's why we took a mark that was set by champions and trained other tire builders to this single standard. Each builder signs every tire he makes. If ever one comes back his score is penalized This method, tested now three years, has proved to be the mileage solution. Always a Shortage The result is a new class of long-distance tires tires that wear the same under like conditions. Not occasionally some that give exceptional service, but more than 99 in 100 It takes much time to train uniform builders Hence to make the best tires we had to forsake all thought of making the most Se to get these remarkable long distance Millers the buoyant ( ord, or the sturdy fabric type be sure to go to the authorized Miller dealer, or write for his name. To Dealers In Open Territory: Write for attractive proposition THE MILLER RUBBER COMPANY, Akron, Ohio Makers of Miller Red and Gray Inner Tubes — the Team- Mates of Uniform Tires

Page 100

98 (Continued from Page 96) Only strong natures are capable of sus- taining it. Mathison saw the future with astonishing clearness. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth! ¢ Mat, you lubbe r, where , called Malachi. This time Mathison heard with compre- smy tobacco?” hension. He paused, struck by a singu- larly bizarre thought. Malachi! Supposing that was it? upposing Hallowell had called out to Malachi the name of the man? A chance shot in the dark that the bird might remember and repeat it? This trend of cogitation was interrupted by a furious ringing of the gate bell The visitor proved to be Morgan, of the Intelligence. He was out of breath from running ‘Anything wrong in these diggings?” ‘Hallowell is dead,” said Mathison gravely. “The devil! Murdered?” *Yes.”’ “I knew it! I felt it in my _ bones. lways something on this order when she passes. And like a yokel I let her slip through my fingers! Hell!” “No woman did this.” ‘Actually, no; potentially, yes.” ‘How did you learn anything was wrong? The telephone wire has been cut.” “She came along in a carriage. Stopped just as I was about to enter the governor's bungalow Said she'd seen men fighting here—shadows on the curtain. And I let her get away!" ‘In a white pith helmet?” asked Mathi- son, with the first sign of eagerness he had shown ‘Yes. Been hunting all over town for her. You saw her, then?” ‘Just as I left the trolley.” “Get a good look ig No. Light clothes and pith x+y gave me the impression that she might be oung.’ Young * mused the Intelligence man ironically Well, yes; young and beauti ful, and the innocent ¢ xpression of a child with the heart of a hell-cat. 1 pick up lots of odds and ends in my business, unofficial tulf Thi female onee tried to wreck Hallowell; and she never forgave him for having a spine.” “She?” Yes. Ever heard of a woman called The Yellow Typhoon?” “No,” said Mathison after a moment. ‘Well, perhaps a man like you wouldn't. But ask the gay lads from Water Street, Yokohama, to Bubbling Well Road, Shang hai, and they'll tell you typhoon is a happy choice. . . Look at this room! What a fight! . . And I stood yawping while she ran away again! Well, she shan't get outside the bay. You ms Ay lay to that! Now then, anything missing?’ ‘A blue print, relative to the U-boat business.”’ ‘But I thor ught that completed and out of the w my + “It is; but Bob had some ends to tighten up My God, Morgan, they struck him from behind! He was beating them off and they struck him from behind! ‘Buck up, Mathison! You mustn't let this get to you. There's a whale of a man’s job in front of you. Uncle Sam's depending on you to get to Washington. Don't let this get to your nerves, Old Bob Hallowell! I'll round up the suspects, I'll crucify them, but someone will speak. tlow valuable was this print?” ‘It will give them an idea of what they'll be up against; and that will rob the thing of fifty per cent of its value. The surprise will be gone ™ I see. Bad business They'll try to get east — Mexican wirek Well, it will take a clever man or woman to slip through my net; and I'll set it inside an hour. I sup- pose they came by the river. We'll take a look-see there later. Remember, this is ordinary burglary with murder. It won't do to let the public know that anything serious has happened to our war plans.” ‘My friend! . . . And he was so happy to have done something for his country!” ‘But keep hold of yourself. Don't let this break you down. It's up to you to make H:; llowell s plans good. Keep that in your head!’ ‘The Yellow Typhoon.” “That's the name. I'll describe her later. Where's your servant?” “Out. . . . Aneye for an eye! ‘That's the way to talk!" said Morgan, patting Mathison on the shoulder. “And THE SATURDAY nothing will hurt the Hun so much as your safe arrival in Washington. . . . Poor devil!” he added under his breath. v ATHISON, his pipe dead in his teeth, leaned against the starboard rail and stared with unseeing eyes. It was Sunday, the first day out of Manila. The northeast trade was blowing briskly, and the blue Pacific flashed and tumbled. Loneliness. Never had he known any- thing like this before. A sudden inexpli- cable craving for crowds, talk, laughter women! With Bob at his elbow night after night he hadn’t been conscious of a void in his life. Woman. No doubt he was a mad- man, a kind of supermadman, to have held out as long as he had. Nerves. It was quite possible that the craving would sub- side and he would become normal once his raw nerves had steadied down. His errand was in jeopardy. He would soon need all his cunning, all his strength to pull through. He had set for himself some- thing more than the mere role of a secret messenger. He had buckled on the sword of Nemesis. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. He was letting his grief dig in too deeply. He must find some diversion shortly or he was done for. He had had to fight Morgan bitterly to win his point. Morgan maintained that the arrival of the blue print in Washington would be vengeance enough for any reason- able man. In the end, however, Morgan had surrendered, reluctantly agreed not to disturb the passengers beyond careful scru- tiny of their passports. But why had the taciturn Morgan chuckled, thwacked him jovially on the shoulder, and continued chuckling as he went down the gangplank just before it was hauled aboard? Mathi- son was siill mystified over this peculiar conduc t Anyhow, one thing was off his mind. That long thick Manila envelope was in the purser’s safe. It did not matter that the purser might still be cudgeling his brains as to the why and wherefore of the remark- able decorations on the face of that enve- lope for which the owner had not required a receipt of deposit. There were twenty-one first-class pas- sengers and eighty steerage. Mathison had applied himself intensively to the memori- zation of the twelve descriptic ms in that little red book of Hallowell’s. None of the first-class passengers tallied. It was con- ceivable that his enemies would keep under cover until they were ready to strike; and nowhere could they keep hidden so well as in the steerage among the Chinese, Japa- nese, Filipinos and Russians. They had found Paolo in the Pasig River, a hundred gold in his pocket, conclusive evidence of two things—that the servant had betrayed his master and that he had known too much for the safety of the men who had bribed him. Mathison knocked the dottle from his pipe and turned toward the smoke room when he saw a book coming along the deck, flopping and bumping like a gull with a broken wing. He recovered it. Probably it belonged to some passe ,* r aft the smoke room. The Life of the Bee, Maeter- linck. There was nothing on the flyleaf to indicate theownership, however. Hetucked it under his arm and walked aft. In a steamer chair between the port and starboard projections of the deckhouse was a woman. He recognized her as the old lady who occupied the cabin opposiie to his on the main deck. A gray cashmere shawl was wrapped about her head and shoulders. The rest of her body was snug in the folds of a plaid rug. A wisp of gray hair, the sport of the wind, was fluttering, now across her forehead, now above the e dge of the shawl. She wore a pair of mandarin spectacles with amber lenses. lathison could not tell whether she was asleep or awake. Nevertheless, he approached. The craving for companionship was not to be denied, ‘| beg your pardon,” he began, “but perhaps this book is yours. It came gz illop- ing round to starboard from this direction.” ‘Thank you. I saw it start on its jour- ney, but I was too lazy to go after it.” She held out her hand—concealed in a gray cotton glove—and he laid the book on it. It did not occur to him then, but it did later, that the voice was singularly rich and full for one who appeared to be well along in the sixties. But he was not unaware of the fact that breeding and education may yreserve the tonal quality of a voice through ife EVENING POST “ You ought to have a chair in a more comfortable place,” he suggested; ‘out where the sun is. “That’s just my difficulty. The sun bothers my eyes, and I’m obliged to find nooks where it cannot reach me. We old folks have to be careful. Won't you sit down?” He opened a chair and sat on the foot rest, conscious of a vague exhilaration; it was the human look of her and the human sound of her voice. ““My name is Mathison.” ‘And mine is Chester—Mrs. Hattie M. Chester. My cabin is opposite yours. If a submarine should pop up you'll promise to come for me?” “TI promise. But there won't be any subs over here except in dreams. “Something to scare naughty children with. I see. The hint of raillery convinced Mathison that there was a vicorous fearless person- ality under the shawl and the rug. What a curious spot to select! Swinging gray shad- ows that passed and repassed, baffling scrutiny in a most amazing manner The conversation turned upon the w war, and here again she surprised him by her clear understanding of what was happening. “You've a son over in France?”’ he ven- tured. No, unfortunately. But if I had a thou- sand sons I’d disown them one and all if the “y weren *t over there. Once upon a time white men wor: shiped many gods. To-day, where are they? To-morrow we shall laugh when one speaks of kings. The Te ~uton idea did not invade Belgium so much as it dug its own grave. . . . Qh, if I were a man!” Mathison smiled—something he hadn’t expected ever to do again! He asked her what she was doing alone in this part of the world. She had had a nervous breakdown in the spring, and her doctor had advised her to take a long sea voyage. “And where else could I take a sea voy- age? I always wanted to see India, China, Japan. | J suppose you are going back to e nist “No, am going home to fight. I am alre uly in the service. “W hat arm?” ‘The Navy. I have been transferred to the Atlantic,” he admitted frankly. “I’m to command a destroyer in British waters.” “Splendid! And you are traveling in mufti?”’ ‘“*A special dispensation.”” He sought a safer channel. ‘You are rather brave to tour this part of the world these days.” “Gray hairs can go safely anywhere. Besides, I’ve a French maid who is some- thing of a grenadier. I am not afraid of anything—except ghosts!” This time Mathison laughed. He was positively enjoying himself. Then he recol- lected that he hadn’t fed Malachi. He rose. “T’ve a little parrakeet in the cabin, and ve forgotten to feed him.” “Does he talk?” “In three languages ish and Yankee.” ‘Bring him up. One like those I saw in Agra, flying about in the ruined fori?” “Yes; green, with a lemon collar. I'll bring him up this afternoon at tea.” ‘To-morrow morning. The sun is in this corner in the afternoon.” “You ought to walk.” *T shall—at night.” “T’'ll bring the bird up to-morrow.” **And thanks for returning the book.” This was the beginning of what may*be written down as one of the most amazing situations ever devised by Fate. The woman behind those amber spectacles was young, and it was the youth of her that drew Mathison, though he was utterly un- conscious of this fact; drew him morning after morning, as the magnetic pole draws the needle of the compass. By the time the ship reached Honolulu and went on, his depression was a thing of memory; his nerves became normal, he was more alive than he had been in years. With all the cunning of her superb art she made her lure one of motherhood, so irre- sistible that he no longer bothered his head over her avoidance of sunlight or the fact that if he saw her at night it was by the port rail, her back to the moonshine. There was one clear thought regarding her—what a comrade she must have been to the man she once called husband! Whimsical, deeply learned, sound in philosophy, hu- morous and unafraid, she made him think of his mother; and all the tenderness he Hindustani, Span- had bottled up in his lonely heart these January 25,1919 fourteen years went out to her. Lightly he fell into the habit of calling her ‘‘ Mother,” and in her turn she called him “ Boy.” For all the pleasure and satisfaction he found in this companionship there was a line; and he never crossed it. Of his own affairs he was remarkably reserved. Sev- eral times—merely as a test—she laid traps for him; but each time he evaded them. Morgan—to whom she had gone sensibly with a frank confession—had summed up this odd, handsome young man: “He is likely to fool you. Under that amiable ex- terior there is a lot of blood-and-iron stuff. Always keep that in mind. Just now he is in a bad shape. Get him out of it. He’sa bit of a mollycoddle where women are con- cerned, but among men he is an ace.’ Had Mathison been of her world—a world to which she was returning gladly, though she had left it indifferently enough he would soon have seen through her art, clever and vigilant as it was. She could not disguise the slender youthfulness of her foot. No hand sixty-odd years old could be so firmly fleshed. The gray glove hid nothing. But his guilelessness served to carry her over a rather shaky bridge. On the third night out of Honolulu—it was near eleven—Mathison stood in the little shelter between one of the lifeboats and the rail, whence he could look down into the waist at the recumbent forms of the steerage passengers who were sleeping on deck. Night after night he had watched from this lookout; but moonlight and starlight had a way of dissolving lines and blotting out salients. To-night, however, his persistence was rewarded. From the black rectangle of the companion door a Chinese woman, appar- ently of high caste, stepped forth. She stood poised for a moment, then trotted across to starboard and laid her arms on the broad teak rail. She wore a radiant jacket full of gold thread which caught the moonshine and threw it back—a spider web hung with dew. She was smoking a cigarette. He knew China; and suddenly he sensed something wrong, and discovered the flaw. No Chinese woman, high or low, ever wore such a thing on her head. Mathison couldn’t have named it; but a white woman would have had no difficulty. It was a dainty boudoir cap. One of the recumbent forms on the deck rose slowly. A big man, with blouse, boots and cap of the Russian soldier; the peak of the cap was drawn well down. He lounged over to the Chinese woman and the two began to talk. Presently Mathison heard the woman laugh. It was unmistakably Occidental laughter. So! For a long time Mathison stared, but he was too far away to gather an im- pression such as might count in the future. Sooner or later he would see the face of this Chinese woman who laughed—white. He would never forget Morgan’s descrip- tion of the woman called The Yellow Ty- phoon, the woman who had tried to break Bob Hallowell and might have been one of the contributing causes of his death. Old Bob! An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth! Let them begin the play. He was ready! He had reasoned, and with sound logic, that his enemies might not strike at all while crossing, to lull him into a false sense of security so that once they stepped ashore they might find he had grown careless, overconfident. One thing—they would never be able to get into his cabin when he was out of it. The night and day stew- ards—dependable Japs—had been liberally subsidized. One or the other was invari- ably on guard up to the hour Mathison turned in for the night. With the Manila envelope in the purser’s safe and the human wall round his cabin an attack would have small chance of success. No doubt they were already aware of his precautions. On the night before making San Fran- cisco, however, he was given an insight as to the patience and Machiavellian range of the Teuton forces opposing him. It was twelve when he turned in—an hour later than usual. As he came abreast his cabin companionway he stopped, rocked to the bottom of his soul. The Japanese steward was plunging toward him at top speed. Mathison spread out his arms, but the little brown man dipped, eluded him and flashed up the main companion. Against the opposite side of the cabin companionway stood the gray lady, Mala- chi’s cage hugged tightly to her bosom! (TO BE CONTINUED)

Page 101

WINTER In cold weather the Thermo stat remains closed and full field current passes through the contact points permitting full current output from the generator. THE SATURDAY EVENING POST on ie, is t ce ete Ae? - - LES SS ST SUMMER as 2 ee ee a eee When the heai of the generator reaches a certain degree the contact points automatically 2 open, compelling the field cur rent to pass through a resist ance coil, thus reducing the output How Remy Supplies All the “Juice” Needed for Winter Driving When the temperature is at zero and you have to step on the starting pedal several times to get the cold engine going— when dark, short days oblige you to burn your lights longer hours and you are using more current than in summer—then it is you realize the need of some means for supplying extra juice for winter driving. Then it is you will appreciate this exclusive, patented Remy feature, typical of the scientific methods with which Remy assures constant performance at all seasons of the year. The patented Remy Thermostat makes possible a large capacity generator whose output of current is sufficient for the heaviest winter demand and made safe for summer—automatically adapted to the seasons by the Remy Thermostat. The Remy Generator because of the Remy Thermostat, supplies ample current in winter when more current is needed to start the car, to keep the lights burning longer hours, and to provide for more difficult starts. In summer, the Remy Thermostat cuts down the current supplied to the battery, thus prolonging the battery’s life and avoiding overcharging. The Remy Thermostat is not new in the sense of being untried. It is now in its third season of use on thou- sands of cars. So successful, so automatic has its service been that many motorists who have it on their cars do not even know it is there. For complete satisfaction in Starting, Lighting and Ignition—winter and summer—year in and year out, be sure that your next car is Remy-equipped. Scientific engineering, precise manufacturing, high stand- ards of quality make every feature of Remy equip- ment as perfect as the Remy Thermostat. It is the combination of these perfect features the sum total of which makes Remy products—‘ Products of Constant Performance.”’ REMY ELECTRIC COMPANY Motor Equipment Division, Detroit, Mich. Tractor Equipment Division, Chicago, Illinois Laboratories Detroit, Michigan General Offices and Factories: Anderson, Indiana STARTING LIGHTING IGNITION SYSTEMS AEE EE

Page 102

100 The Disston Trade Mark Means Quality The Saw Most Carpenters Use SAWS THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 0 WV WITTY . U.S. PAT. OFF HE Disston Trade Mark means just this: ‘“This saw or tool is frst quality and so guaranteed. It was made with conscience as well as skill. The materials in it are the finest of their kind. The workmanship is the finished craftsmanship of seventy-eight years’ experience—and constant effort toward perfection.” It says that, to a man, the earnest effort of the whole Disston force is back of every manu- facturing motion. Carpenters and woodworkers, whose best work is produced only by the best tools, realize the value of Disston Quality. The Disston Saw, therefore, is 74e Saw Most Carpenters Use. Chicago Cincinnati Boston Portland, Ore. Bangor, Me. San Francisco Vancouver, B. C. In our own plant, we make every pound of steel used in Disston Saws and Tools. And every foot of wood used in Disston Saw-handles is seasoned in the open for three years. Look for the Disston Trade Mark on the saws and tools you buy. Find it and you'll know that your money can buy no better. Disston Saws and Tools are sold by good hardware dealers the world over. Send today for the free Disston Handbook on Saws, and learn how to select, use and care for Disston Saws and Tools. HENRY DISSTON & SONS, Inc. PHILADELPHIA, U. S. A. CANADIAN WORKS TORONTO, CANADA New Orleans Memphis Seattle Sydney, Australia DISSTON AND TOOLS January 25,1919 , ee ee ee wage — sa

Page 103

— a the consciousness, written in horny hands that had once been work-proof, and in pleasure-loving hearts now seamed with sorrow, that just as war had meant work and sacrifice, so must peace mean unre- mitting toil and still more sacrifice. There must be no armistices to effort! With the hushing of the guns England realized that however elaborate her recon- struction plans might be they must guaran- tee at once two all-essential things—food and employment. About the former there was practically no anxiety. The abnega- tion of America, combined with the enor- mous stores of wheat piled up in Australia and elsewhere that only awaited shipment, solved this problem. The immediate release of tonnage from war work expedited the movement of all this grain. The big job was to deal with the labor problem, which necessitated the demobili- zation of the millions of workers in the munition factories and other war work. This emergency was met in orderly fashion by doing two things: One was to discharge those employees who were not industrial workers prior to taking up munitions work and who were willing to withdraw volun- tarily; the other was to divert the war workers to their previous occupations or into the new industries that are a part of the imperial program of self-sufficiency. Thousands of the women who entered the factories during the war came from the country and then went back to the land, where still another chapter in the story of England self-contained is being written. The Women’s Land Army of war became overnight the Women’s Land Army of peace. It means a more intensive and a more scientific cultivation of the soil, which is one of the many compensations for four years of blood and suffering. Churchill’s Epigram All this is by way of introduction. We can now get down to the brass tacks of reconstruction. The British war effort was reared on industry expressed in what we call quantity output. This same institution has become the cornerstone of the whole new era of recovery. The late war—it seems strange to be writing of it in the past tense—as I have more than once pointed out in THE SATURDAY EVENING POST, was a war of machinery. It was the British workman pitted against the German arti- san. Peace will not change this line-up. The only difference will be in the output. Safety razors, typewriters, adding ma- chines, cash registers, motor cars in ‘‘ massed manufacture’’—to use a British phrase will succeed shells, guns, grenades and aéroplanes. Again weight of metal will win. In 1915, when I made my first study of British war industrial conditions, there were less than a thousand government- controlled factories. On the day the armi- stice was signed there were exactly seven thousand. Britain was one vast mill, and unlike those proverbial mills of the gods it did not grind slowly. The problem was to adapt this immense production to peace without dislocation. How was it done? To get the answer you must first come with me to the office of Winston Spencer Churchill, Minister of Munitions, in the old Metropole Hotel in London. Just a year ago I sat in that same room and talked with him about the problems of peace. When I asked him about reconstruction he made one of his characteristic epigrams, for he said: ‘“‘Look after the war now and the war after the war will take care of itself.” The conversation came back to me viv- idly as we sat before the fire, with the shouts of rejoicing over victory coming in from Whitehall. Peace had ceased to be a theory and had become a condition. The perpetual storm center of British politics for Churchill is always about to start some- thing—felt the mood. When I asked him what he proposed to do to prevent industrial dislocation he gazed meditatively into the fire, pulled slowly at his cigar and replied: “‘The na- tion will become the shock absorber.” When I asked him to elaborate he replied: “The whole program of adjusting ma- chinery for the munitions of peace is already in operation. We have arranged to dispose of half of the government arsenals to private manufacturers, who have already begun to adapt the equipment. A lathe remains a lathe. The other government THE SATURDAY EVENING POST THE ANGLO-AMERICAN BUSINESS ENTENTE (Continued from Page 13) arsenals will be kept as going concerns. We must be prepared for any emergency until the actual peace treaty is signed.” Within a week after the Kaiser had fled to Holland the Ministry of Munitions of war had become in reality a ministry of the munitions of peace. I will tell you why. When Doctor Addison was shell master of England—he succeeded Lloyd George when the latter became Secretary of State for War on Kitchener’s death—he estab- lished a card index for every machine tool in the United Kingdom. The original pur- pose was to release tools from nonessential to essential work. That index was also started with the idea of having an inven- tory on hand when peace came, when every bit of machinery would be worth as much to reconstruction as it had been to war. The net result was that on November twelfth British industry was able to take immediate stock of itself and know pre- cisely what it had on hand to work with. The card index became immediately available for every British manufacturer who by reason of the nation-wide pooling of machines had a stake in this enormous mass of equipment. Nor was it a perfunctory collection of dates, makes and numbers. On every card was the type of machine, its origin, make, capacity and condition on October first. Those suffering from wear and tear were marked accordingly. Every machine that had been scrapped was so in- dicated. In other words every tool marked “available for peace work”’ was ready to start up, and it did. On the day after the war ended the ministry began to allot this machinery to the new needs of the country. The small manufacturer came in on the same pro-rata basis as the big one. The supreme lesson of codperation, learned through the stress of war when shells meant life and life in turn meant the safety of the world, has been translated into peace, and it can only mean a vitalized and speeded-up industry. The ink was scarcely dry on the armistice before applications for machinery began to pour in on the Ministry of Munitions, and they were filled without confusion or delay. Now let us see just what constitutes the British industry in process of change. It falls into three classes: One is the straight war plant, built and dedicated to war needs, which must be scrapped or must undergo a complete transformation; second is the peace industry, which was adapted to war, and which can be salvaged and re- stored to its original work; the third branch is what may be termed civil industry and which in the actual course of war events would have remained idle during the con- flict which reddened Europe. Civil Industries This civil industry provides one of the most illuminating examples of the prudence and foresight with which England went about her preparations for speedy recon- struction. When the war broke out there werescores of industrial enterprises through- out the country engaged in manufacturing commodities not essential to the war. As most people know, these industries were pared down to the bone and in some in- stances suppressed. Some of them, how- ever, contributed largely to British export, were factors in the foreign-exc hange situa- tion and were necessary institutions. Such an industry, for example, was represented by linoleum. Its manufecture requires the use of linseed oil, which was highly necessary to war work. Civil use of this oil was prohibited, and it meant the complete tie-up of the linoleum output, which in turn would throw thousands of people out of work. More than this, it meant that the buying world would find a substitute for the British article. Doctor Addison looked beyond those racking war days to the morrow of peace. He said to himself: ‘‘The civil industries must be protected and maintained in some way, so that they will be going concerns when the war ends.” He appointed a Civil Industries Committee, headed by J. Wormald, a Manchester engineer, which worked out a definite program for the con- servation of all these activities. To use the happy phrase coined by Doctor Addison, the “‘ potentiality of recovery” became the keynote. The committee decided that not only were all these civil industries worth saving but that they should also be kept up to a state of operation and efficiency that would enable them to turn to their full | stride with peace. In the case of linoleum a working amount of linseed oil was allocated to the industry eyery month, and in this way it was maintained. Hence the workers kept their jobs, the machines were em- ployed, and the town of Kirkcaldy —a seat of the industry — prospered instead of going to seed. Instead of becoming discontented the workers emerged from the war as useful cogs in the whole large national productive machine. What was true of linoleum has been true of other industries. England has kept the furnace fires burning and it means that she has come into an industrial authority that will give her a whole new world prestige. These civil industries, however, contrib- ute only a comparatively small part of the British output. The bulk of British pro- duction was harnessed up to war. It fol- lows, therefore, that the most important phase of transition has to do with the thousands of controlled plants. Instead of being paralyzed through intensive concen- tration on munitions they have already shown that they can make a quick change. Here is a concrete case. A Swift Turnaround I have before me an advertisement that I cut out of the London Times on Novem- ber twenty-second last. It was headed A New British Car. Under it was printed the following: “TItisinteresting tolearn that Messrs. —— & Co., who have been busily engaged dur- ing the war on fuses, aéroplanes and other government work, are proposing to place on the market an All- Brtich four-seater standard car. “We understand that the car will em- body several distinctive features and will not be a small car, the wheel base being eleven feet. “Tt is proposed that the selling price will be in the neighborhood of £265—and this will include all accessories, such as self-starter, electric lighting, tires, etc., etc. “A light delivery van will also be stand- ard and selling at a slightly cheaper price.”’ There is much food for thought for the American motor manufacturer in this advertisement. swift turnaround in British industry. In the second place it discloses the fact that the British having standardized shell mak- ing are now turning to the standardization of those articles on which we once had a menteey in large output. With motor cars in particular we shall face a keen competition in England, for the reason that the present tariff of thirty-three and a third per cent on all imported cars will un- doubtedly be maintained for a considerable time in order to give home manufacture a chance torecuperate. Practically all the au- tomobile makers in England «oncentrated on aéroplane engines and big war trucks during the war. T hrough the introduction of thousands of American and French cars they have lost a great deal of their own goodwill. They are determined to get this back. Meanwhile we shall have to open up new export markets for our surplus trucks and cars. Throughout England the arsenal has become the factory of peace. The greatest of all British armament firms on the Clyde, which made everything from a machine gun to a sixteen-inch naval monster, has an- nounced a line of peace goods that includes sewing machines, turbines, gas engines, a eee motor cars and typewriters. One of the huge ordnance plants at Coventry is being converted into a giant producer of electrical machinery. Here is where you get the first evidence of the new Brit- ish independence of German goods. The old German electric-machinery trust —the “A.E.G.’’—is not likely to get a foothold in the United Kingdom again. Before all this machinery could be shifted from war to peace one important thing had to be done. It was the disposal of the immense mass of war stores. This was the situation: For four years and three months every ounce of productive energy in the United Kingdom, with the exception of Ireland, was devoted to war output, regard- less of wear and tear and cost. The task was to beat the German. In every theater of war the British piled up supplies. First of all, it shows the | Guns

101

Shelltex Rimmed Shur-on EYEGLASSES AND SPECTACLES UTDOOR folk like Shelltex fraines for their lens protection, good looks and genuine comfort, Like all Shur-ons, right in quality and right in price—for Shur-ons cost no more, Look for the name Shur-on (or Shelltex, if shell-rimmed) in the mounting. hur-on COLORED Lenses correct eyesight, and rest your tired eyes by neutralizing glare Another good Shur-on product, Shur-on goods made only by E. KIRSTEIN SONS CO. 260 Andrew St.. Rochester, N.Y. Makers of rimmed and ri niess Shur-on ey glasses and spectacles. Lstablished 1864

FEET HURT YOU? Dr. Scholl's Foot-Eazer will relieve your tired, aching feet and support your weak or fallen arches. Removes pressure on Callouses and tender bunion joints. Worn in any shoe with pertect comfort Whether you have fallen arches flat foot, painful corns, buni ne or allouse ‘ ng joints or pains in he Dr Scholls Foot Comfort Appliances designed t rrect the cause and give tant relief Soid everywhere by leading shoe dealers, » have been trained in Practipedics, the # giving foot comfort Send for Free Booklet The Feet and Their Care,” by Dr. Wm. M <holl, recognized foot authority, sent on request THE SCHOLL MFG. CO. Dept. E1-1213 W. Schiller St., Chicago, Ill.

HERE’ S steady employment for you. Wi vel a ~ Jarg

est thermometer makers have som ” to give reliable, energetic men. A most suce roe eg of advertising thermometers. Selling experience unnecessary but preferred. Write immediately giving past employ ment and references T. B. Div., Taytor NSTRUMENT Companies, Rochester, N. Y

Printing eee Cards ul aper f Larger $20 i for others, big Print

Write paper THE PRESS CO., D- ir, "Merlden, Sean: ATENTS BOOKLET FREE HIGHEST REFERENCES BEST RESULTS PROMPTNESS ASSURED Watson E. Coleman, Patent Lawyer, 624 F St., Washington, D.C. factory f

Page 104

102 THE SATURDAY . e Sats . a o*e af 4 » a ‘ : ” . “v~. ie, ( > ~ 4 ; ‘ [ : y , . t } FOR INDUSTRIAL PURPOSES In your plant there is certain to be some need for Rusco Webbings—either in operating require- ments—or in your finished products. Rusco Webbings are far more econom- ical than leather and other costly ma- terials — more durable — equally as ethcient—in many instances more so. Solidly woven—uniform—of the highest quality—the result of 88 years’ experi- ence in light and heavy weaving. Made water, oil, grease, and steam proof when required. In varying widths and thick- nesses from stock or special formulas. Correspondence invited. Full infor- mation relative to the adaptability of Rusco Webbings to your needs will be furnished promptly. The Russell Manufacturing Co. Home Office 500 Russell Avenue and Factories Middletown, CHICAGO 1438 Michigan Avenue Established 1830 Connecticut DETROIT NEW YORK CITY 18 Alexandrine Ave., E. 349 Broadway 38 Factory Buildings EVENING POST and men had to be fed; mechanical trans- port accumulated at a tremendous rate; vast surpluses were concentrated both at home and abroad as insurance against sub- marine depredations. Everything was dumped into the giant hopper of the con- flict. The decks had to be cleared of this mass of material. You get some idea of the job when I tell you that the army surplus stores over and above the quantity retained for emergency and the future was appraised at not less than $2,500,000,000. In addition, exactly 470 square miles of land were oc- cupied by government buildings either for storage, manufacture or otherwise. Yet this only represented, so far as stores were concerned, the materia! hang-over of British war supplies. The prompt disposal of this material meant much to the new British industry, as you will now see. By absorbing as much of this material at home as possible British factories were free to plunge at once | into the manufacture of products to sup- plant the immense mass of wartime impor- tations, and also to renew and expand a foreign trade that had suffered enormously during those four years of travail. Once more our old friend the Ministry of Reconstruction got busy with character- istic energy and foresight. Organized and ready to swing into action was the Advisory Council on the Disposal of Surplus Gov- ernment Property, of which Lord Salisbury is chairman. Its first step was to begin a complete survey of the needs of the various British municipalities. The idea behind the survey was to provide cities and rural com- munities with machinery or supplies. The surplus stores represent everything from a lawn mower to a five-ton motor truck. Hence every conceivable demand could be met. It not only enabled Britain to get the best stuff at cost but it expedited the whole business of restoration. All municipal stores were low, due to the war’s drain on commodities. The city of London, for example, needed a thousand trucks; Liverpool wanted a hundred water carts; half a dozen counties required rock crushers and rollers for their highways. The overseas dominions were not forgotten. The ships that are taking the Anzacs back home are also carrying machinery and motor equipment for the expansion of the Aus- tralian Commonwealth. Everybody came in on this grand prize package of billions. Surplus Government Supplies This mountain range of material requires an immense storage. Likewise it must be transported to all parts of the Kingdom. The next step was to survey the ports in their relation to the railways, so that the material will have the shortest route to the seaboard. All the storage has been pooled. The underlying motive of this phase of reconstruction—as well as all others—is “Cut the carry.””. England has learned how to concentrate effort. It took her a long time to get speeded up, but she has caught the pace now. So much for the unused material. In addition there are hundreds of thousands of tons of war and manufacturing equipment damaged through exposure, storage or enemy action. All this has come under the ministration of the Salvage Department of the army, which is one of the many per- manent gifts that the war has made to humanity. This remarkable work, which began as a sort of despised fifth wheel of the army in France, saved the War Office more than half a billion dollars in three years. It has become a permanent institution and will have an immense effect on the rehabili- tation of the whole Empire. Salvage and reconstruction go hand in hand. The necessity for disposing of surplus | government property has led to the organi- zation of a whole new government depart- ment that points the way for a kindred step | in America. Since an immense number of | men must be kept under arms for a con- 1000 Looms | i siderable period and because the govern- ment will continue as a purchaser on a large scale a Ministry of Supply has been estab- lished. It will inevitably become the most important post in the cabinet, for the reason that it will gradually become the general national provider. This ministry will really supervise disposal, because it must keep a close tab on existing stores. It will be the center of all governmental procurement, and it will standardize the supplies of peace precisely as it standard- ized the munitions of war. Thanks to Andrew Weir, the Surveyor-General of Supply at the War Office, the British Army January 25,1919 contract became a sterilized document. It loses none of its character with peace. Henceforth every contract for national supplies must be censored at the Ministry of Supply, which will gradually displace and succeed the Ministry of Munitions. The question of national supply naturally leads to the all-important matter of raw materials and their control. It is almost unnecessary to say that rigid control, both of industry and materials, was one of the first aids to victory. The waging of the war on such an unprecedented scale drained resources to the limit. More ammunition was expended in a single day on the Somme than during the whole Boer War. Now that all facts are permissible I can say that every week England sent sixty thousand tons of explosives to France alone. Without con- trol this would have been impossible. In no country was it more drastic than in England. Life was one control after another. Indeed, everything was rationed except virtue and the weather. Those who were most irked by the drastic regulations realized how necessary they were to success in the struggle against Germa” y. Control of Raw Materials The supreme court of control during the war was the War Priorities Committee, of which Lieut. Gen. J. C. Smuts, the one- time Boer leader, was chairman. Associated with him were the Secretary of State for War, the First Lord of the Admiralty, the Minister of Munitions, the President of the Board of Trade, the Minister of Recon- structionand the Director of National Serv- ice. They saw that every ton of material essential for war did its duty., This control was distributed. The Ministry of Muni- tions, for instance, allocated all steel and copper; the Board of Trade rationed coal and chemicals; and so on. With the end of the war the first question that came from the manufacturers was “Will control continue?” It was natural. There could be no return to normal output without relaxation of restriction, for the reason that though hundreds of factories owned quantities of steel, iron, copper, brass and nickel, these materials could not be employed without a priority-of-work order. The Ministry of Reconstruction, the Ministry of Munitions and the Board of Trade—the three arbiters of the new in- dustrial fate of England—did not keep the producers waiting long. The day after the signing of the armistice the edict went forth: “Industry must have the widest pos- sible freedom.” The lid of control was prac- tically ripped off. Coéperation succeeded restraint almost overnight. In hundreds of factories the superin- tendents dug down into dust-covered and long-deferred orders and began to allot them throughout the works. These orders covered goods that ranged from bathtubs to the steel work for office buildings. During the war all construction save for war work was practically prohibited. With peace the country faced a colossal amount of build- ing. In addition to the renewal of old structures an almost staggering amount of fresh erection had to be made. This in- cludes not less than 500,000 houses for workmen, which are part of a vast housing plan that is one of the many activities of the Ministry of Reconstruction. If you have any doubt about an ample employ- ment in England during the next few years this little matter of building will help to dispel it. Though industry has been given the greatest possible freedom there is still a general supervision over certain materials. The War Priorities Committee has been succeeded by a Post-War Priorities Com- mittee, which is the watchdog of raw materials for the period of reconstruction. General Smuts is the chairman, and his associates include the Minister of Recon- struction, the President of the Board of Trade, the Minister of Labor, the Minister of Shipping, the new Minister of Supply and the Minister of Munitions. One of its prin- cipal functions is to see that no scrap of raw material controlled or emanating from Brit- ain gets into the hands of the enemy powers. The Empire is determined that the enemy of the battlefield must remain the antag- onist of the market place. At the cost of millions of men and billions of dollars England has learned the value of raw materials. Germany’s whole supreme effort in the field was based on an impe- rialized industry that had its grip on metal and other essentials throughout the world. (Continued on Page ivJS)

Page 105

a

THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 103

Your Rifle Will Be Ready So it

250-3000 Sava ; Sporting Rifle ‘ Oi Ae a

AVAGE has been making for the ee’ Allied Governments many thou- sands of Lewis Guns, large num- bers of three-inch rapid fire naval guns, thousands of truck frames for army transportation and many other products absolutely essential to the winning of the war. | mete < Our customers have been very pa- tient under the necessary cessation of peace-time manufacturing. We need “You'll always find ask your indulgence further only until a Savage where the we can take the steps necessary for saa transferring our enlarged facilities to peace-time production.

By April you will be able to buy at your dealer’s the famous .22 Savage Hi-Power Sporting Rifle, the powerful .250-3000 Savage Sporting Rifle, and the .32 Savage Automatic Pistol. Savage ideals will never change. But Savage production, with our new and greater equipment and personnel, will be much more extensive than has hitherto been possible. SAVAGE ARMS CORPORATION Sharon, Pa. Utica, N.Y. Philadelphia, Pa. General Offices: 50 Church Street, New York

\ pointingsyouy finger

Page 106

104 THE SATURDAY EVENING POST January 25,1919 y Ss =e —=— — —— — -- -- — ~— — 5 ED Be)> i aaermeeereeemeees,* - Li WHITE ENAMEL = —_ -——— —" = =

fy rsa0nor eESl+ 25 Se Bie +t Gee & i+ - 5 4 Toone Ine >) >\- 2) : iquid Granite HI FLOOR VARNISH

ge =) on se ss > —

Page 107

- — a —_— Continued from Page 102) ritain’s new policy was summed up to me by a high government official, who said: “You do not need a diagram to point out the fact that the war ravaged the world’s supply of raw materials. The struggle to ob- B * tain them for reconstruction will be bitter. England will think of herself first. After our own needs will come the replenish- ment of the trade areas devastated by the Hun. We do not propose to give Germany or her old allies the raw materials with which to get off first in the race for the after-the-war trade. She deliberately de- stroyed part of the industrial resources of Belgium and Northern France with the sole idea of crippling competition at the end of the war.” Significant of the reborn British industry is the formation of a standing council of seasoned business men headed by Sir Henry Birchenough, which acts as adviser to the Post-War Priorities Committee. It is a Who's Who of British trade, manufacture and shipping, and it is the determining factor in the remaining control of raw materials. This control, so far as Britain is concerned, is very amiable as compared with the rigid exactions of wartimes. It takes the form of a block allocation and the specific rationing is done by the industry itself. It sets up an autonomy, and it proved highly successful with civil indus- tries during the war Never Again Control must continue for a while in cotton, coal and timber, of which there has been such vast consumption. One reason is that these materials must be kept from passing into the hands of the Central Powers; another is that through various interallied agreements for pooling supplies England obligated herself to furnish France and Italy with coal One impressive indication that England will never again be caught napping in the matter of raw materials is found in the urvey of materials which has been under- taken by the Ministry of Reconstruction. Its purpose, to quote the official statement, ‘is to consider the nature and amount of the supplies of material and foodstuffs which will be required by the United King dom during the period of reconstruction and the return to normal conditions of trade and the steps which should be taken to procure these supplies, having regard to the probable requirements of belligerent and neutral states.”” In the American vernacu lar John Bull is determined to find out just where he stands. This combing out of materials will prevent any future hoard ing of essentials, which was one of Ger many’s favorite diversions in the past if England has learned one thing above all others it is the value of self-sufficiency. It was first hammered home by the depend ence upon Germany in the key industries; the enormous consumption of raw materials during the war clinched it. A new imperial- ism has deve loped which finds expression in the slogan ‘‘ The Empire’s resources for the Empire.’ One of the dynamos behind this movement is the British Empire Producers’ Association, which awakened the nation to long and costly neglect in developing its resources Before the war the United Kingdom depended upon Germany and Austria for ghty per cent of its sugar, despite the fact iat with the exception of Cuba, Hawaii and the United States most of the sugar* cane areas of the world are within the im- perial confines. During the last two years immense areas of beet sugar have been planted in the sritish Colonies, otably Australia. There will be no de- endence henceforth upon Germany or Austria for sugar. Cotton affords another example. Thanks to the British Cotton Growing Association huge plantations have been established in India and Africa. The Empire has tapped fresh oil reservoirs in Burma and increased her coffee and tea growing in Ceylon One of the results of the war is the organi- zation of the Imperial Mineral Resources Bureau, which has undertaken an inten- ive development of the resources of the United Kingdom with special reference to the nonferrous metals. Its efforts have also uncovered new coal areas and iron-ore deposits, and really given the Kingdom many fresh natural assets. The tin-mining industry of Cornwall, which went into a decline before the war, has had a rebirth of productivity. A Mines Department is one of the many new government institutions. 1 th t various THE SATURDAY Still more striking is the formation of the British Metal Corporation, charged with the exploitation of the whole British trade in metals. It faces reconstruction as the one rival of the famous German Metallge- sellschaft, which was the Teutonic metal trust and which had its tentacles in Aus- tralia, Canada, Asia, Africa and America Wherever metals were mined or refined there you found the agent of this Colossus ready and willing to corner output and make any inducement to get a monopoly on future business. The British Metal Cor- poration has taken a sheet from the book of this German outfit. Every dollar of its capitalization of $25,000,000 has been sub- scribed and paid up. Like British Dyes, Limited, it is sponsored by the Board of Trade and, therefore, will expand with peace. With the government standing squarely behind it it has every benefit of the British world-wide trade-intelligence sys tem and shares in the imperial preference which will be one of the trade safeguards of the Empire in the coming days. This powerful new agency for British industrial development specializes in copper, tin, lead and nickel. It is setting up smelting and refining works. The next logical step will be the acquisition of mines. Nothing will be left tochance. The leading figure in the en- terprise is Sir Charles Fielding, head of the famous Rio Tinto copper mines in Spain, which are British-owned. With iron and steel England has been equally vigilant. Since 1914 she has in- creased her annual output of steel from 7,000,000 tons to 12,000,000 tons. By the end of this year this will increased by 2,000,000 tons more. Ger- many’s rise to. power in iron and steel was over the body of a prostrate industrial Britain. The dead has come to life. In this resurrection lies one huge obstacle to the swift economic come-back of the Teuton. Raw materials, however abundant, pro- vide only one step toward the new industrial freedom. The real essential is an alert and highly organized production, and _ this essential has been found. The war brushed the cobwebs out of British factories and awoke them to their responsibility and capacity. Peace, therefore, found industry like an athlete trained to the minute. The keynote of the industrial peace offensive is summed up in three words: “A great output.” With it England will set up the economic security that will be her weapon against any possible future Germanic com mercial aggression. On it are based her world-trade hopes Scientific Cooperation Her capacity for enlarged production was amply demonstrated during the four years of stress and storm. Not long ago I heard of a certain factory in Birmingham that had reluctantly made a contract to deliver 10,000 finished parts of a certain appliance each week. This agreement was entered into in January, 1915. Before the | end of hostilities it was turning out 250,000 parts a week, practically in the same shop. Science combined with standardization had done the job. The card index and the efficiency expert are as common to-day in | English as in American factories. The British producer has really and truly learned the value of coéperation. This finds its best expression perhaps in the work of the Federation of British Industries. Twelve months ago, when I first described this live-wire organization in THE SATUR- DAY EVENING Post, it had a membership of 503 firms and seventy-eight trade associa- tions. On the first of last December it had 16,000 firms on its rolis, whose combined capitalization aggregated $20,000,000,000. | It represents what a merger of the Cham- ber of Commerce of the United States and the National Association of Manufacturers would express, and then some. The federation is the new sponsor of | British world trade and stands squarely behind the whole reconstruction program It did not wait until the armistice released industry. In every important world capital outside the enemy countries it had a staff of legal advisers at the service of British merchants and manufacturers everywhere. These advisers were also trade scouts who | ferreted out business opportunities and | sent comprehensive reports about them | back to London, where they got swift action. More important than this, however, was the offensive and defensive trade alliance entered into with half a dozen countries In France, for example, the federation has | probably be | EVENING POST Another of THE ‘ BIG MAJORITY S. Brand, Whole saler & Retailer in Coal & Wood, St Paul, Minn., uses Baker-Vawter Ma chine Bookkeeping Binders, etc with an Elliott-Fisher ‘IT’S A WONDERFUL IMPROVEMENT OVER THE OLD PEN-AND-INK WAY” 105 Mr. Brand, a wholesaler and retailer, stated this after 2!» years’ use of machine bookkeeping. Every day you postpone investigating the greater accuracy, greater speed, greater legibility and lower cost of bookkeeping by machine instead of by pen is costing you money. Furthermore it is depriving you of quickly compiled, up-to-the-instant facts that you need about your business BAKER-VAWTER BINDERS, TRAYS, LEAVES, STATEMENTS are used by THE BIG MAJORITY. Baker-Vawte Company is the recognized authority on machine bookkeeping the same as it has been headquarters for general accounting and record-keeping advice and equipment for over three decades Write Department M, nearest factory. Benton Harbor, Mich. Holyoke, Mass Baker-VawTer COMPANY vginators and Manufacturers Or LOOSE LEAF AND STEEL FILING EQUIPMENT San Francisco, Cal Topping material that will fulfill your greatest expec tations Easily Cl Write for Samples Drednaut Motor T op- Topping ping adds to the beauty of any car. L. C. CHASE & CQ., BOSTON New Yorn pREDNAUY topping through and through made to give the maximum of service uniform in strength and finish Chase Drednaut Motor Topping (now over twenty-five years on the mat ket) is positively weatherproof in every detail — protection from the se- verest storms or the hottest suns —the top material that “defies tome and the elements” and which often outlasts the life of the car itself. eansed, Always Attractive, Economical At Your ; DETROIT CricaGo SAN Francisco Dealer's

Page 108

THE SATURDAY EVENING POST

i i “Mt bin Ru-BeRve

“ , Ste dag eee a CLR cones wha J “SY inet my ehe-ave 2080 ; % ae ba: A a . ~ > & J > << Less ergpe Small But [mportant— from ready In the long run the no stronger than the materials which tan place. The CTV IK not upon the roofing depends you get rooting alone. roofing hold So the next time you buy roof ing don't overlook those small but important items which are packed in the center of the roll ' ‘ j " lap ceme nt and nati Good lap cement must spread smoothly when ap plied. It must hold together fat. It must be water-proof and weather- the edges of the roofing proof, 1 ] if ili ‘4 relain cre, the ¢ qualities throughout lhe life of the roofing. Ru-ber-ine Lap Cement has been specially pre with Ru-ber-oid Roofing. Its com ich that, when applied, it unites with rooting it pared for use position 1S the together. lf and practically welds the sheets The nails must be strong enough to drive home without Their heads must be large enough to hold the edges of the roofing firmly without danger of tearing. 4nd they must be rust-proof Ru-ber-oid Nails are absolutely rust-proof. By the patent process of Sherardizing, the zinc coating is practically soated into the base metal and stays there. Ordinary galvanized nails are mot rust-proof because the protecting coat flakes off and exposes the under metal. The nails whichare sold with over 60% of prepared roofing are neither Sherardized nor galvanized. All the more reason why you should buy Ru-ber-oid and be sure of the best. Ru-ber-ine Lap Cement and Sherardized Nails are manufactured to up to the tandard of excellence that has made Ru-ber-oid, representative of the best in ready-roofing. bending Sherardized ieasure ame high the name,

THE STANDARD PAINT COMPANY New York Boston MAKERS OF U-BER- ROOFING Chicago yr. = i me Se Ses ed Se

a Se Ee == 2a ee =a

formed the Association of Great Britain and France, whose sole function is to stimu- late commerce between the two countries. In Serbia it has organized the Association of Great Britain and Serbia. Other simi- lar bodies, due to the same initiative and enterprise, are the Anglo-Brazil Trade As- sociation and the Anglo-Greece Trade Asso- ciation; and others identical in scope are in process of organization in Argentina, Holland and Chile. Each of these associa- tions has one or more well-equipped offices, which become at once rallying points for British trade and the center of an invaluable commercial intelligence. Foreign trade can be built only out of knowledge of needs. This is the supreme lesson that America must learn before she strikes her permanent international business gait. Backing up the world-trade aspirations of the Federation of British Industries is a scheme of collective advertising. If a single British manufacturer or if even half a dozen wanted to put their names and trade-marks in the leading journals of for- eign countries it would be a very expensive proposition. But if a hundred of them com- bine for this purpose it is not such a drain on the office purse. This is precisely what the federation has done. Each group of in- dustries represented has taken space in the leading popular and trade publications of France, Spain, Holland, Switzerland and several of the South American countries for an intensive publicity campaign, which has one idea in mind. That idea is to pro- claim the worth and might of the British- made product. The British manufacturer is big enough to see that whatever adver- tises his country boosts the goods of the country at the same time. Collective bargaining has its full mate in this collective exploitation. It indicates that the value of advertising has soaked thoroughly into the British consciousness Before the war the number of national advertisers was comparatively small. The billboard, the poster, and the display ad- vertisement in the newspaper and the magazine not only recruited Kitchener's army, sold war bonds, brought home the great lesson of economy in food, but also showed that printer’s ink, liberally and wisely used, is a great factor in the develop- ment of a nation. Federation Work at Home The work of the federation at home is no less effective than its operations abroad. It has reorganized British industry into seven- teen main groups, each of which includes a major industry or a closely allied group of smaller industries. This makes for rapid development, swift mobilization and dis- tribution of raw materials, and united and therefore cheaper publicity. In addition to these groupings the members have been organized on a geographical basis. There are sixteen districts in England, Scotland and Wales, each with its own organizing secretary. The manufacturers in these va- rious districts get together once or twice a month, talk over the situation, and keep in touch with what they and the rest of the world are doing At the head of the Federation of British Industries is Sir Vincent Caillard, head of the great armament house of Vickers, Ltd. It is more than a coincidence that this great captain of British industry— his establish- ment is the Krupps of England—should be at the helm when British industry is being transformed from a war to a peace basis. Sir Vincent is one of the most progressive men in Britain; an enthusiast on labor- saving devices, who worships the god of quantity output. His influence is bound to be felt throughout all British production. it is typical of the new order of industrial things in Britain that the secretary of the federation is C. Tennyson, a grandson of the poet, who prefers the job of piloting business to a career of literature. A still further evidence of the fact that British industry has got together for a world effort is shown in the organization of a Joint Council of Manufacturers, consist- ing of the Federation of British Industries, the British Empire Producers’ Association and the Imperial Council of Commerce. The objects of this organization are: **To consider and report on any question of mutual interest reflecting the common aims of the three bodies— namely, the con- servation and development of the industry, production and commerce of the United Kingdom and her oversea Dominions. “ To initiate the consideration of any such subjects. January 25,1919 To take any action in relation to such subjects that may be specifically author- ized by the constituent bodies.” No other phase of the war-born British industrial expansion is quite so significant as the advance made in the key industries. Here you touch a development of peculiar interest to us. When the great war crashed into civilization in 1914 it disclosed the dependence of Britain and America upon Germany for the essentials to manufacture. As most people know, perhaps the most important of these were the coal-tar dyes, which were as necessary to the making of munitions as they were to peaceful trade. Though England’s imports of dyestuffs amounted to only $10,000,000 a year they made a textile industry aggregating $1,000,- 000,000 a year possible. A Lost Opportunity In the struggle to achieve independence of these German dyes in the future England leads the world. This brings me to an episode that emphasizes the new get-there spirit of British business. It likewise shows that Uncle Sam was not on the job at a certain great hour when he might have fastened his hooks into an asset of tremen- dous value to his industry. Before the war the two important dye-production centers were a group of towns in Germany and the busy little city of Basel, in Switzerland, which is on the Rhine and almost within a stone’s throw of the late Kaiser’s domin ions. These Swiss factories were in the main Swiss-owned, though they had many German operatives; and what was more important, they owned or controlled the German dye formulas. For years the great bulk of the raw materials with which they worked came from Germany. With the dutbreak of hostilities Germany shut off this supply and the Basel dye works had to look elsewhere. The enterprising American consul there immediately got busy, sent a report of the situation to Washington, and expected that his Government would take immediate action to annex this invaluable industrial domain. than a month later, however, a representative of the British Board of Trade appeared on the scene, sewed up most of the Basel dye manufacturers with ironclad contracts and agreed to furnish the raw materials To-day England in addition to her own government-endowed dye industry has the benefit of the great majority of the Swiss works with all their trained workers and their formulas, which were worth any price that was paid in the transaction. What England has done with dyes she has duplicated in practically every one of the kindred essential industries. The cur- tain was raised on her performance at the New British and Key Industries Exhibi- tion which was held at Central Hall last October. It was a remarkable demonstra- tion of the independence which is the keynote of the whole British industrial endeavor. In 1913 this exhibition could not have been held anywhere in the world except in Germany. In coal-tar dyes, for example, twelve firms exhibited. They were headed by British Dyes, Ltd., or- ganized and endowed by the Board of Trade and representing the new partner- ship between the government and big business. This company, whose work I have already described in these columns, is not only a going and prosperous con- cern but is reaching out throughout the world. With magnetos a similar achievement has been registered. Before the war prac- tically every magneto used in a British motor car or an aéroplane came from a famous firm in Stuttgert. The country is now practically self-contained in the pro- duction of this all-important apparatus. When the war ended more than eighty per cent of the magnetos used by the Royal Air Force—easily the largest consumer in the country— were of purely British design and manufacture. British magnetos have been used on aéroplanes, seaplanes, tanks, trucks, motorcycles, ambulances, cars, searchlights, motor boats, pumps, wireless sets, blower engines, fans, salvage sets, agricultural tractors, caterpillar tractors, motor machine-gun carriers, trench dig- gers, auxiliary engines on submarines, remount hoists, miner’s safety lamps, hand- starting traveling workshops, motor plows, dynamo lighting sets, X-ray sets and gas engines. Not only have British magnetos come to stay but an organization known as the British Ignition Apparatus Association, (Continued on Page 109) Less

es ee es

Page 109

j Se ee a ee —— i , i ' f THE SATURDAY EVENING POST

107

sources of supply unknown. tries Of peace to a g1 The great industria enterprises. In min < ( St. Louis ¢ Denver Hazleton, P Chat ’ aa Joi n tanoog

insures the certainty SIV< ] essential te kor twenty-one months winning ater ext era whi h th ‘ tunity for rendering this and quarry, and along the railroad line, river is changed or a dam built, where irrigation or drainage 1s necessary converted into fertile tie! ders will meet the demand met the demands of war. HERCULES P , p American industries have eat purpose and to task 1s We lay the Due to this development, m the company is today capable of

} NK. be r¢ ules Powder Co. has had but one thought, and aim its uttermost for the plants have been built, new methods devised, ; discovered ] Aacit ervice. » the nad ui | yreat wh whe the ot p OWDER. York me Now that ome re lic S. of peace. that were nec erving the indu ba re idle lands re Hercules Pow eace as they have W on the nN the course Turning to the Tasks of Peace kor twenty-one months labored under the spur of a gi help accomplish a great ta done. The trappings of wat bec them aside and turn to the task to contribute of the war. Great before ary by war, nt than ever before. faces Or the re Lye Ing ample oppor The use of « country highw ay co. Ka t Lake Cit xplo industrial ota are 4

aul

RCULES POWDER CO.

J)

Page 110

Ems THE SATURDAY EVENING POST January 25,1919 nat: la OS i) ‘ i) ’ j ‘ : ; ‘ } Wi ¥ | ROMEDARY DATES stuffed with Natural sugar in abundance and _ luscious q nuts, marshmallows or Dromedary flavor are offered in Dromedary Dates — 7 Cocoanut are easily prepared and take the ‘‘Nature’s Confection.” Serve instead of candy. place of the most elaborate confectionery. Let the children have all the dates they ‘ They are rich in natural sugar, upon which — want. Fruit and nuts are good for them. there are no restrictions. Dromedary Dates are very carefully selected y They are universally preferred to rich, golden dates, packed in dust-proof individual cloying candies because they are a healthful packages so they come to you unbroken, \% food as well as a dainty sweet. clean and tempting. 4) Dromedary Dates for Desserts ‘ Recipes for many sugar-saving desserts are given in our new book, 4 — ‘ ‘ Se ott q ne er saab y Two dates actually contain “DROMEDARY WAR-TIME RECIPES.” Sent FREE upon request. j natural sugar equivalent to \ one level teaspoonful of re- fined sugar The HILLS BROTHERS Co., Dept. K, 375 Washington Street, New York Dromedary Dates and Cereals A few Dromedary Dates on each portion of Dromedary Date Muffins ( two tab t tut with quarter cooked or dry cereal adds much to its flavor iptul of tw well-beaten exys, and food value and saves sugar. Try dates on en one ‘ t ik and two cups of flour oatmeal, hominy, rice, putted wheat, corn ind two teaspoonfuls ot baking powder alter flakes or any prepared breakfast food. Children : nately; beat thoroughly and add pinch of salt need no coaxing to eat their morning dish of und one cup of Dromedary Dates cut fine. cereal when Dromedary Dates are added. Bake in a quick oven,

Page 111

a * Le rg PP, a rs F — — (Continued from Page 106) with more than a dozen powerful firms as members, has been formed to keep the new industry up to a proper production. So, too, with tungsten—the key of keys. Germany refined seventy per cent of the world’s supply before the war, despite the facts that forty per cent of it was mined within the British Empire and fifty per cent of the refined output was used by British manufacturers. All that is changed now. At the Key Industries Exhibition eleven All-British firms showed that henceforth not a pound of German-produced or German-refined tungsten is necessary for manufacturing purposes throughout the United Kingdom. A similar advance was shown with spelter, nickel, zinc, manga- nese, lead, antimony and graphite. What is true of these vital industries is also true of optical, chemical and bacteriological glass, in which Germany and Austria had almost a monopoly before the Prussian madness was let loose on the universe. All this glass in ample quantity and satisfactory quality is made in England, as more than a dozen exhibits showed. The important matter of interest to America in connection with these key industries is that every one of them will be protected by an adequate tariff for many years to come. I close this discussion witha remark made to me by a member of the cabinet, which has tremendous meaning for the whole world of industry. When asked him about the future of dye manufac- ture in England he said: ‘*Not until 1929 will any dye be permitted to come to Eng- land from anywhere without a special license.””’ This protection will almost in- evitably be followed by a prohibition of absolutely every commodity that can be produced within the Empire. The Amer- ican exporter will soon find out that “‘ Brit- ain for the British” is more than a phrase. Closely related to the growth of British industry is the new development of hydro- electric power. England, like the rest of the world, will henceforth try to do her work electrically. Here you have another one of the many dividends of war. During those years when the Hun was running amuck, coal came into a whole new prestige. It almost made and unmade governments. We did not escape its influence, as the frigid memory of fuelless days attests. Germany used coal as a merciless weapon against the small neutrals. She capitalized their dependence upon her for this pivotal product, and with it wrung mighty exac- tions. Together with her vast shipping, coal formed one of the principal British war assets. White Coal for England The enormous demand for coal as dis- closed by the war has led to a national movement for its conservation in England. Coal is rationed and will continue to be rationed for an indefinite period. One reason lies in the immense waste attached to mining and distribution. The wastage in by-products of coal alone is almost greater in annual value than the entire world’s output of gold. There is another reason for Britain’s conservation of fuel: An ample surplus during the period of reconstruction will be an invaluable bar- gaining asset. The nation with coal to spare during the next two years will have an advantage greater than any that could be contained in a favored-nation commer- cial treaty. If America is wise she will use coal as the basis upon which to rear a whole new world-wide trade relation. It is a trump card. We have the coal, and now, thanks to the war, we have ample cargo carriers. It is up to Washington to do the rest Realizing the tremendous bargaining value of coal, England is launching a vast cheme of power production. The country is being charted into regions. Each region will have a central power plant. The juice will be available to every man. All that he will have to do is to tap the power main The government will fix the price. It is estimated that by the procedure more than 50,000,000 tons of coal will be saved each year. In addition, it will enable the small manufacturer to set up shop without the considerable overhead cost of installing a power plant. Likewise, it will tend to revolutionize certain industries, notably spinning. By this time you undoubtedly have the impression that the government is standing squarely behind the whole British commer- cial development. The mainspring of this THE SATURDAY sponsorship is the: Board of Trade. For years it drowsed in a jungle of red tape awaiting the galvanic hand that would stir it into life and action. It was a traditional top-heavy British institution, long on pree- edent and short on result. When Britain, like America, suddenly discovered with the advent of war that her big business men were a distinct national asset, Lloyd George put Sir Albert Stanley at the head of the Board of Trade. He proved to be the | fairy prince, for he gave it a sort of magic awakening, made it a vitalized ministry of commerce, a glorified school of salesman- | ship; the creator of a definite and coérdi- nated national trade policy. I asked Sir Albert, who by the way got his whole business training in the United | States, what was the biggest problem that confronted the Board of Trade. He replied: ‘“‘On the day the armistice was signed ninety-one per cent of British | imports were for some kind of war muni- | tions. The remaining nine per cent were for civil needs. The nation’s business job henceforth is to reverse these figures. Shutting Out Enemy Trade This means that every energy and re- source in the Kingdom will be dedicated to the establishment of a vast export trade During the war England learned to do without many imports. Scores of these came under the head of what were then believed to be necessities. The sacrifice and abnegation of war have put these articles—-many of them came from the United States—into the luxury class. The new world-trade creed of Britain gives scant aid or comfort to the German manu facturer who may labor under the delusion that his atrocities on land and his crimes on sea will be forgotten. First and foremost among the conditions imposed upon goods shipped into E ngland is that every article of foreign origin, no matter where it is made, must be plainly labeled ‘*‘ Not Brit- ish.” This means that never again can German goods masquerade under British labels as they did before the war. If the same rule, together with an attested certif icate of origin, were enforced in the United States the immense factories that Germany | has acquired in neutral countries, like Switzerland, Spain and Sweden, would soon go out of commission. It took England a long time to get wise to the German trade game. It will take her just as long to have a change of heart, for she is determined that the boche shall never taint her trade again. The other day I saw the following sign in a shop window in Bond Street, which is a fashionable retail shopping street in London ‘No person of German birth whether naturalized or not can enter these prem ises.”’ The new restrictions governing the electrical trades will indicate England’ attitude about enemy manufacture. They are: “The prohibition of import of enemy goods for three years after the conclusion of peace; subject to importation under license in special circumstances after the first twelve months “The imposition of import duties suffi ciently high to protect effectively the electrical industry. “The prevention of the sale of any in ported electrical goods at prices lower than those current in the country of origin ‘The treatment as enemy products of all goods produced in foreign countries by concerns controlled by enemy capital or under enemy direction.” These restrictions show clearly that the German will never again be permitted to indulge in his favorite oversea sport of “dumping.” There will be such a rigid censorship and comparison of world price that if in his overwhelming desire to come back commercially he seeks to achieve at immense turnover with a small margin ol profit he will have to operate it ome domain that does not fly the British flag and in which there are no laws against “dumping.” Jo less exacting are the new rules that govern British shipping. For the next three years no conference arrangement will be permitted between British shipowners and the Central Powers, especially Ger many. The whole tendency of the new 3ritish trade policy, which is as national in scope as the closest government coépera- tion can make it, is to make England the | EVENING POST 109 A $100,000 Dish New-Type Baked Beans Which College-Trained Scientific Cooks Have Spent Years in Perfecting It has cost us at least $100,000 to perfect Van Camp’s Pork and Beans Modern culinary expert men with col lege training--have devoted some years to this dish. Able scientists and famous chefs have co-operated with them _ ‘Thi is Was Wrong Old-style iked beans were to digest va inder-t rked Vet the bakir risped them and har | some 1 ! In the Var They were al tion Phi r 1 1 ‘ t In lee i perl nd or me mnt throu et This Is Perfect ft wh ‘id yh pts phere eT" ti And it t c | } rea ake them meal me ole 1 bear Please or i VAN (AMP'S Pork and Beans Baked With the Van Camp Sauce — Also Baked Without the Sauce Other Van Camp Products Include Soups Evaporated Milk Spaghetti Peanet Butter ChiliCon Carne Catsup Chili Sauce, etc. | doa repared in the Van Camp Kitchens at indianapolie _ —_—————————— Van Camp's Soups is Kinds Van Camp's s Spaghetti Van Camp's Peanut Butter 4 based fren t An Italian recipe pert «. But ca ig greatly that we value the recipe ry bitter 1 te 0k at $500,000 re +"

Page 112

THE SATURDAY Let Us Change Your Ideas of Corn. leal ( i Just Hominy The Quaker experts are making a new-grade Corn Meal, which means more delightful corn dainties. They remove all the coarse outer coat of the corn. They remove the oily germ which grows rancid. Makes a corn meal mush with distinct granulations, and sweet They grind just the sweet, flinty hominy part—the choice 60 per cent of the corn So this Quaker Corn Meal has no fibre coat. And it doesn’t grow stale. Compareit with wholecorn ground with the old-style corn meal. It differs as patent flour differs from Graham. Compare the foods it makes. It will change all your corn food standards. Get it from your grocer in round sealed package with top. Quaker Best Corn Meal Yellow or White—/ 5c Except in Far West a a Makes pancakes, mufhins and corn bread vastly better then whole-« orn meal Just Granulated Hominy—The Best 60% of the Corn Exquisite Homi The same Quaker experts make Hominy Grits, surprising in their quality and sweetness. They have created a new love for hominy in a million American homes Serve as a breakfast cereal, or in fritters or pan- cakes. These sweet grits form one of the finest foods obtainable Quaker Hominy Grits Fancy White Hominy —1 5c Except in Far West The Quaker Oats @mpany CHICAGO (3002) EVENING POST new center of universal trade. Her great desire is to sell the world, but, as both nations and peoples have discovered, you cannot sell without buying. The drastic restrictions that she is putting upon im- ports into the Kingdom will have to be modified if she proposes to do business on the scale that is at present outlined. The more you go into a study of the new British industrial policy the more you real- ize that every advantage is being taken of the lessons of the war. The Board of Trade, for example, has established a department of scientific and industrial research. Here you have a frank duplication of one of the activities that made Germany industrially great. Before the war, if you wanted to find the real source of Teutonic world-trade might, you had only to look into the labo- ratories of Elberfeld, Stuttgart, Jena or Essen. Every huge German manufactur- ing establishment had its corps of trained scientists and investigators. In one famous drug establishment at Elberfeld, for ex- ample, there were seventy free-lance chem- ists. Their job was to conduct original experiments on their own. Sometimes less than half a dozen produced results capable of commercial exploitation during the year, but these results were worth millions. England is developing her industry along these same scientific lines. For one thing she has founded an institute of industrial chemistry. The University of London has shattered its tradition about not having any vulgar contact with “ persons in trade” and now confers degrees in Commerce. British business is having all the scientific research that the traffic will bear. Like- wise a whole new system of apprentice- ships in the factories has been inaugurated. German efficiency will be fought with effectiveness. That England is capitalizing every up-to- date trade trick is disclosed by what may be called the World Trade Circus, fostered by the Board of Trade. It is a portable exhibition of British wares that will make a tour on wheels or on shipboard through all the leading countries, including Japan and China. Each firm’s exhibit will be ar- | ranged so that it can be placed without extra packing in standard cases which may be set up in a public hall or even shown on a railway train. It is estimated that the London, Manchester or Birming- ham manufacturer will be able to display | his wares all round the globe for less than a thousand dollars. That this typically and almost aggressively American idea of goods exploitation has emanated from such a one- time sedate and dignified institution as the Board of Trade is one of the post-war miracles. The British Money Trust Experience has shown that accurate and up-to-date commercial intelligence is a first aid to business. In this respect England has a priceless asset in the shape of a Who’s Who in Foreign Trade compiled out of the information yielded by the censorship and | the War Trade Intelligence Department. For more than four years practically all the mail from enemy and neutral countries as well as the mail from the United States to England passed through British hands. These letters and documents contained the trade secrets of the world. They not only disclosed plans and projects but also quoted prices and contained other data of inestimable value. England, therefore, be- gins her era of reorganization with a com- plete knowledge of what her principal competitors propose to do. That England is ready to cope with whatever economic emergency may arise is evident by the formation of a huge money trust that makes its prototype in the United States seem like a mere pretender. Our octopus was for home operation. The British giant regards the world as its field. It is the power plant of the reconstructed and expanded British business. When the war began there were eleven great joint-stock banks in London. To hint at any step that would disturb the inviolate individuality of any one of these institutions meant heresy. To-day—and it has all happened within the past twelve months—they have been converted into five combinations that represent the ab- sorption of sixteen different banks, whose deposits aggregate nearly $7,000,000,000. The new Lloyd’s combine is typical of what has been going on. It includes the famous Lloyd’s Bank, with deposits of $880,- 000,000; the Capital and Counties, with $300,000,000 on its books; the National of January 25,1919 Scotland, with $150,000,000; and the Lon- don and River Plate, with $125,000,000. The consolidated concern has exactly 1525 different branches. Dominating this Gibral- tar of Finance is Henry Bell, of Lloyd’s, who is rapidly succeeding to the authority maintained for years by Sir Edward Holden, chairman of the London City and Midland, who was the dean of London banking. Even Sir Edward’s bank, which once ex- pressed the last word in conservative British banking, has succumbed to the syndicate fever, which shows that a real revolution in method and organization has been effected. What does this massing of millions mean? Many things, and all of them of vital im- portance to the United States. In the first place it is England’s proclamation to the rest of the world that London will remain the international financial center. With such a wealth of concentrated capital, whose outposts are planted wherever the trade winds blow, the universal symbol of trade will be the pound sterling. It further indi- cates that there is ample capital behind the new British industry. With only a few men at the top to decide on big propositions there will be no delay in underwriting fresh enterprise and expanding the old. Since the close of hostilities there has been a tremendous demand for money. It grows out of the need of funds to renew the wear and tear of war on machinery and plant, and the increased cost of production. The Shipping Situation There is still another highly useful pur- pose behind this federation of finance, for such it is. It will be the one group in the Allied countries capable of bucking the in- evitable union of German banks which will be the dynamo behind the Teutonic trade recovery. These banks—the Deutsche, Dresdener, Disconto and Darmstadter in- stitutions—the four famous ‘‘ D's” —have sunk their past bitter competition in the larger desire to recoup the shattered for- tunes of the Fatherland. They will have a real antagonist in the British money trust, whose operations should make Wall Street realize that its horizon must be widened. The war has taught the British banker the one great secret of international banking, which is putting yourself in the other man’s place, finding out what -he wants, and letting him have all the credit he wants. Long-distance trade demands long credits. The banking trust represents only one phase of British consolidation. For a year there has been a real epidemic of mergeritis. British Dyes, Ltd., and Levinsteins, the two largest manufacturers of colors in England, have joined forces for a combina- tion that will develop into a serious rival of the old German dye concerns. Equally significant is the pooling of interests of the two greatest British chocolate firms, whose names blaze from every billboard in the kingdom. Just before I sailed last December three of the largest explosives manufacturers were planning a union, with the idea of turning to peaceful output with as little duplication of product as possible. Everywhere in England the keynote is “‘ We must stand together.”” The country is developing into a huge trust. Just as finance, as expressed in credit, is the lifeblood of business, so is transporta- tion the chief artery. Banking and ship- ping have always been the bulwarks of British trade. As far as the former is con- cerned you have seen how a whole new battle line has been set up. With shipping the outlook is not so rosy. The slaughter of British ships by the submarine has put a dent into a one-time supremacy on the sea. Though war construction ceased on the day the armistice was signed, and the Clyde and other regions reverted to the construc- tion of cargo carriers at once, England is still considerably crippled, and will con- tinue so for at least a year. But one thing is certain: The British shipowner looks with deep concern upon the growth of the American merchant marine. More than one of them said to me: ‘‘ What are your people going to do with your ships?"’ When I said that they would be used for the new American world trade their invariable reply was: ‘‘But America does not know how to run a merchant marine.” They will have to be shown. Behind all this surmise is a strong fear that with any kind of national trade policy America will be the most formidable obstacle to that British desire for world commercial dominion. (Concluded on Page 113

Page 113

THE SATURDAY EVENING POST CHICAGO OPERA STARS HEAR CICCOLINI TEST MILLION DOLLAR PHONOGRAPH EDISON’S THREE yh ID ) CICCOLINI scored a great triumph as Alfredo “Traviata” at the opening performance of the Chicago Opera season. Scarcely less happy than he, over his success, were Carolina Lazzari, leading contralto, and Virgilio Lazzari, the brilliant basso, of the world famed Chicago Opera Association. To them, on the following day, Ciccolini said: “Last night two thousand people heard me on the stage of the Auditorium. Every day two hun dred thousand hear me on the New Edison. It is the same voice—listen and tell me if you observe even the slightest ditte rence ‘ As shown in the photograph, Ciccolini stood beside the New Edison and sang for his friends in comparison with its Re-Creation of his voice. Their critical ears could discover no quality in Ciccolini’s wonderful voice that was not also present in the Re(Creation Similar tests have been made by thirty different artists before audiences aggregating two million people. The results of these astounding comparisons are described in the news columns of America’s principal news papers. May we send you the booklet “Waiat the Critics Say ? Mr. Edison spent more than three million dollars in research work to develop The NEW EDISON ‘The Phonograph with a Soul”’ He did this so that you may have in your own home all the ear can give you of the art of the world’ greatest artists. You owe it to the music loving side of your nature to hear this wonderful instrument Let us send you a co our .musical magaz Zine THOMAS A. EDISON, SR S.. mplimentary copy of “Along Broadway ORANGE, N. J.

Page 114

112 THE SATURDAY EVENING POST January 25,1919 KISSELTRUCKS | Uninterrupted Transportation of \ os Veterans — of the industry— “ISSKEL PERUCKS are not **War-baby”’ this winter when uninterrupted transportation must , . 2 ained ; ‘ a7 trucks. ‘They were full grown and mak- — >¢ ™#!ntained at all hazards, ing transportation history six years before the ‘i wer ; , F > AY - ~ > dark days of August, 1914. They have met The Kissel-built Engine Plus the ALL-YEAR Cab The Kissel mechanical features headlined by the = ‘ eye Proven A bility Kissel-built truck power-plant and topped with the Vital This Winter exclusive ALL-YEAR Cab— giving full protection to drivers so they can keep their trucks in operation every test since the beginning of the industry. These ten years of practical truck engineering and — throughout the winter —insures maintaining sched- construction experience will prove invaluable to you — ules regardless of weather or road conditions. Every Kissel Truck Dealer is a transportation expert—located in every principal city. See him without delay. New Truck Catalogue on request Kissel Motor Car Co., Hartford, Wis., U.S. A. —

Page 115

—_— Concluded from Page 110 As for her railways England has learned a supreme lesson not without its helpful hints for us in our own hour of possible transition from government to private ownership. At the outbreak of war all the British lines were taken over by the government. In time they will be restored to the stock- holders but, to quote a high government official: ‘‘they will never again have the same freedom of action.”” Why? Simply because the national operation of the roads showed that the waste had been prodigal. Sir Albert Stanley told me that the wastage in the combined British system was not less than $200,000,000 a year The most striking feature of British railway reorganization on a peace basis, aside from the fact that an eight-hour day has been granted, is the standardization of equipment, which will extend from spikes to sleeping cars. In addition traffic is being equal lized In some parts of England, for example, it has been too dense; in other sections too scant. A definite scheme of equalization of operation is being worked out so that the whole Kingdom will have adequate transportation facilities. It is estimated that the whole process of railway reorganization in England will mean upon comp yletion a saving of not less than half a billion dollars. Five years ago the statement that the aérial omnibus was practical would have evoked ridicule. The war has made com- mercial aviation possible, and in no other country, save perhaps in Germany, has this possibility been seen or snapped up so swiftly as in England. Within forty-eight hours after the celebrations had begun tickets were being sold for an air service between London and Paris. The schedule calls for departure from the Ritz Hotel in the British capital at ten o’clock arrival at the Ritz in victory in the morning and Paris at one-thirty in the afternoon. The price of tic ate is fifteen guineas, or about seventy ollars, each way. This d London-to -P aris service is merely a hint of the part that aviation will play in the drama of world commerce. The universal air routes are being charted. A company has been formed in London to operate a twelve-hour service between London and Rome. Likewise a service between the lother Country and Australia is being discussed Any study of British reconstruction must be in terms of Empire. Never again can England be deaf to the need or call of the Colonies. The imperial blood-brotherhood, cemented by sacrifice from Ypres to Galli- poli, means an alliance no less potent or powerful in peace than in war. Before the war Australia seemed in the popular mind to be a away place—-a vast sheep ranch peopled by ticket-of-leave men. The war literal] brought Australia home to England, ar nd likewise to America, for our Y d England have found troops in F them congenial figt ting fellows. A Message From Australia There is a deeper affinity between America and Australia than this breezy comrad It lies in our common re- sponsibility Southern Pacific, where Germany had begun to rear a whole new in the empire of trade, which had the usual adaptability to war. What the average Americar rhaps does not realize is the fact that aiser was strongly intrenched at New Guinea, New Britain, the Caroline and Marsh lands and in Samoa. These islands not only commanded the trade routes 1! ion of the globe but were likewise » Australia. Of a total estimated population of 1,500,000 in those islands the German possessions contained nearly 800,000. They presented as artistic a piece of German penetration as could be found anywhere. Outwardly they were the bailiwicks of ordinary peaceful trade; in- wardly they were potential strongholds of war. The cliffs hid powerful wireless sta- tions; the harbors were ideal naval bases; immense supplies for sea raiders were cached far inland. These islands repre- sented one of the many German war traps that needed only the pressure of a button to be sprung into destructive action. With the outbreak of the war Australia, with the help of New Zealand, captured these islands. She does not want to give them up. Here is where we come in. Through our stake in the Pacific— princi- pally the Philippines and our growing world trade—we shared the German dan- ger with Australia before the war. Had the THE SATURDAY boche won, our overseas enterprises would have suffered with those of the British dominions. The Germans would have ruthlessly ruled that neck of the globe, and no other nation would have had a look-in on commerce. If Germany is to remain beaten commercially in the same way that she has been vanquished on the field of battle she must not be permitted to fasten her hooks into those Pacific islands again. Australia realizes that her full partner in the Pacific is America. The voice of the penton -/ is W. M. Hughes, that remarkable personage who rose from ped- dler to premier. So to Hughes, who was in England for the imperial conference, 1 went to talk about America in the Pacific. It was a few nights after the signing of the armistice. Behind me I had left a London delirious with delight and tasting the first fruits of victory. In what seemed to be a thousand miles away from all the tumult and the | shouting sat this little, keen-eyed, torrent- tongued leader, who with his people had played such a big part in achieving the stupendous results. He spoke, as always, with a passionate energy. “America and Australia have much in common,” he said. ‘‘We not only speak thesame language, think the same thoughts, spring in the main from the same stock and are animated by the same ideals, but we | have fought side by side for the cause | which, with peace, has a new kinship for us. Together with New Zealand we have a community of economic interests in the Pacific that, thanks to the German mad ness, is just being appreciated. The Panama Canal has linked the Pacific to Europe. The volume of world commerce and its center of gravity have tended more and more toward the Pacific. It is bound to be one of the great new trade domain Ever since they first set foot in those part the Germans have been a menace no less to America than to Australia and New Zea land. Now that their stamping ground for penetration has been taken away from them it must never go back. Australia is committed to a Monroe Doctrine of the Southern Pacific, and its integrity must be maintained. Our warning to the Germans is: ‘Hands off the Pacific!’”’ British Labor Conditions I asked Mr. Hughes about the prospects of a closer commercial! bond with Australia and he said: ‘‘ Australia looks forward to a new and intimate business relation with the United States. commissioner to New York, who will open offices and begin a campaign of education to the end that American capital and American enterprise find their way to our country, which is a whole new world await- ing development and which is capable of maintaining 100,000,000 people. You need our wool, meat and fruit, and we need your machinery, wood and many other things. ome peoples of Australia and America must know each other better and trade with eac ch other more.” Now for the final glimpse of British reconstruction, which *brings us back to England. The machine of recovery whose flywheel began to whirl on the day the Germans collapsed faces only one real danger, which is also a world danger. It is embodied in labor. The battalions of toil can undo or accelerate the whole vast pro gram of rehabilitation. Nowhere else in Europe is there such unrest in labor as in Englan d. The enormous wages paid during the war created tastes and habits that demand a continuance of the swollen pay envelopes. Unemployment will upset the whole scheme of things. The great revival projects together with the immense schemes for housing may be able to keep the work ers busy. If they are kept busy there wil be no time to foment trouble If not, all the well-laid plans are likely to suffer a serious setback. Not man can tell what the labor morrow will bring forth International business will henceforth be projected on an unprecedented scale and with an unparalleled vigor. Germany will test every resource to rehabilitate her trade. The universal markets must be policed and the English-speaking natior must provide that stewardship. They have a common commercial cause no less vital to the integrity of civilization than their com mon racial destiny Editor's Note—This is the second of a series of articles by Mr. Marcosson dealing with the economi reconstruction of Europe. The next will be devoted to the possibilities of German trade recovery We have just sent a trade | EVENING POST 113 | OKE FT" A NEW 4 R ROW | form-filling | COLLAR a6 (ents is all that its name implies Maks rs Troy N A Cluett, Pea bi dy ey Co., Inc., Sell Us Your Spare Time We will buy it and pay you a good price for it. Wouldn’t you like $100.00 extra in January? Have More Money in 1919 You can have a profitable position with us this year at ‘‘overtime’’ pay — $1.00 an hour! A Permanent Position Scores of spare-time rep Why not you too? You resentatives of The Sat- need not invest a single urday Evening Post, penny to learn all about The Ladies’ Home . a , Journal and The our plan. Experience is Country Gentleman Unnecessary. Profits be- will earn more than gimatonce. You assume $100.00 for a hundred no obligation whatever hours this month. by requesting details. More than a half million Curtis subscriptions will expire in the next few months. You can share 1n the profits on this business if you clip and mail us the coupon to-day! 820 Indepe ence Square, Philadels if : Gentlemer Te ne all at t r spa € e sking pla ] intereste Name A t Cit Sta

Page 116

114 THE SATURDAY shaves How many good ; to one safety razor blade? SN’T it true with most safety razors that after the first shave the blade becomes dull and is not good for more than two or three shaves? This would be equally true of the AutoStrop Razor were it not for its individuality—the blade- stropping feature. The fact is, a razor blade should be stropped before using—that’s what puts the edge back on it. The AutoStrop Razor gives consistently clean, smooth, com- fortable shaves because it is the only safety razor that can be stropped to akeen edge, used and cleaned without having to be taken to pieces and reassembled. When you buy an AutoStrop Razor, you have full assurance of 500 quality shaves backed by a guarantee from the manufac- turers. Safety Razor Sold All Over the World PE RST ES AutoStrop Safety Razor Co. New York London Paris Toronto EVENING POST January 25,1919 THE SOCIALISTS’ KORAN (Continued from Page 11) and making ends meet, even on the nar- rowest scale, was a grueling problem. He tried to get work that would bring in the daily bread, but failed. Engels, how- ever, had taken refuge in the parental cot- | ton mill and was better supplied with money. Presently the meager furniture of the Marx family was seized for arrears of rent and he narrowly escaped being arrested on suspicion of burglary, because when he offered some of Mrs. Marx’s crested spoons to a pawnbroker the pawn- broker thought he must have stolen them. In June, 1850, the family moved into quarters on Dean Street, which Mrs. Marx, in a letter to a friend, described as one room and a small cabinet adjoining. The family, consisting of two adults and four children, slept in the room, using the cabinet as a kitchen. Then the fifth child was born. It was in these trying circum- stances that a mutual friend recommended Marx to Charles A. Dana, then managing editor of the New York Tribune, as a man who would act as London correspondent by sending a weekly letter. Both Dana and Greeley had been interested in Brook Farm and were quite sympathetic with the sort of Socialism that venture stood for. Marx’s stipend was five dollars a week, “‘for years his only regular and certain income,” says John Spargo, his American biographer. Two of the children died in Dean Street; the sixth child was born there and its birth was followed within a few weeks by the death of the third child. There were all the circumstances of hard poverty, even to the borrowing of small sums at from twenty to fifty per cent interest. Then Mrs. Marx’s mother, Baroness von Westphalen, died, and the daughter received a few hundred thaler from her estate, which decidedly eased the pinch. All this occurred while Marx was indus- triously writing. Some of the writing, like his Tribune correspondence, was hack work, very poorly paid; but most of it was on Socialism or revolutionary economics, which was still worse paid. He worked with indefatigable industry, spending much time in the British Museum digging out material for his writing. At various times he thought of trying to get some securer means of livelihood. Once, indeed, he did formally apply for a humble position as railroad clerk, but the application was re- jected because he wrote a bad hand. A Strange Recruit Our Civil War shut off his Tribune stipend. It also shut off England’s supply of raw cotton, for the North blockaded Southern ports. The French Government, under Napoleon the Third, wanted to recognize the South as a belligerent nation, which would have been a hard blow to the North. The British Government was quite inclined that way for a time. The sympathy of English workmen was strongly against the South, however, which stood for slav- ery in their eyes. They expressed that sympathy unmistakably, even though those in the cotton districts suffered great hardship because the mills could get no raw material to work on. Marx most heartily approved this feeling on the part of the working people and exerted himself to make it effective. Good Socialists make the extreme claim that he fairly saved the day for the North by get- ting such an expression of British opinion as made official recognition of the South impossible. Naturally bourgeois history hardly takes that view of it; yet no one should deny him the credit of having worked earnestly to that end. Meantime he had finished the first volume of Capital in 1862. Five years elapsed, however, before he got the manu- script copied and had it published. By that time German Socialism had gained—to a degree at least —a strange sort of recruit in the person of Count Otto von Bismarck, the Iron Chancellor—later on Prince Bis- marck. Ferdinand Lassalle, an elegant and opulent Socialist, was a friend of Bismarck. In Socialist doctrine, especially as regards government ownership, the Iron Chancel- lor saw elements he could use to advantage in consolidating and regimenting the Ger- man state, which he was then busily en- gaged in forming. Bismarck found Socialism useful, also, as a sort of bogy with which to keep the ob- | durate liberal parties in line. He took into his employ one Biicher, formerly a revolu- tionist, who had been exiled on account of his connection with the uprising of 1848. As fellow exiles in London, Biicher and Marx were well acquainted. Acting for Bismarck’s government, Biicher offered Marx employment as a correspondent of the Staats Anzeiger, a government organ. Marx was very poor, but he rejected the offer. Not long afterward, however, he visited Germany and arranged there for the publication of the first volume of Capital, which appeared in 1867 and created no very notable stir. Six years elapsed, indeed, before a sec- ond edition was called for, the first edition having been a small one. Nineteen years elapsed before the first English translation was published. Those circumstances indi- cate that the work was slow in gaining any considerable attention. Only in the last twenty-five years or so, has anybody in the United States, broadly speaking, heard anything about Marxian Socialism, which is now the basic creed of govern- ment for quite a portion of Europe. Twenty-five years ago or so there was a devoted little band in Chicago, led by Mr. Thomas Morgan, a machinist. They called themselves Socialists and served occasion- ally as a subject for journalistic amuse- ment. They were generally regarded as in the same class with the queer, freakish little religious sects that used to bob into public notice now and then. I remember very well that they were the cause of some ap- prehension on the part of very conservative and very nervous citizens, but the common impression was that, though they meant some sort of mischief, they were only harm- less cranks. Three Outstanding Books About the time the first volume of Capi- tal was published Marx’s health—impaired by hard work and poor living conditions, no doubt—began to fail. He never fin- ished the work. His devoted wife died in 1881 and he about two years later, leaving a great mass of more or less undigested notes for the remaining volumes of Capital. His friend Engels, who was thoroughly familiar with his literary plans, undertook to edit and compose these notes; but it was only in 1885, eighteen years after the first volume was published, that the second volume was ready for the printer. Eight years elapsed before a second edition of this second volume was published. In the following year, 1894, the first edition of the third volume was printed. It was not until 1907 that an American translation of all three volumes appeared. All of which indi- cates no very extensive curiosity about the work. I believe I am safe in saying that vol- umes two and three are little read even now. The first volume, which Marx him- self wrote, is commonly taken as comprising the essential doctrine. From the point of view of a best seller I am also safe in saying that Volume One is little read. A great library has been written about it, but it is doubtful that you can find a copy in any except the larger bookstores. It is by no means an easily readable book. Like some other speculative think- ers, Marx had no practical ability, though he chose to write about decidedly practical affairs. Throughout his life he was unable to deal successfully with the hard facts that touched him nearest—the support of his wife and children, for whom he had the greatest affection. Another man, with Marx’s brains and industry, would have solved that problem. Marx couldn't, not because he was unwilling to make a com- promise with existing society, but because he didn’t know how to apply himself to the situation. Saturated in Hegelian philoso- phy—which Hegel himself said nobody had been able to understand— Marx wanted just to think. There are three outstanding books on political economy: Adam Smith’s Wealth of Nations, Henry George’s Progress and Poverty, and Karl Marx’s Capital, each expressing a different quality of mind. Adam Smith’s book is rich in the suggestion of contact with actual experience. Read- ing it, you seem to feel that a man is go- ing about among men, notebook in hand, shrewdly inquiring and appraising. Henry George’s book is aglow all through with a (Continued on Page 117) So

Page 117

—E—E ee ————E WY TO ye re ee TENT II TK CAAA a THE SATURDAY EVENING POST sg pn Slee e i Valve Motor bs 4% ¥ Ys 7) oe, i 2 . b 4 7/1 ? ’ _ « ? _ £ “ io T - ~d da ye ® > Distinguished Service The strongest endorsements of Wiaillys-Knight cars come from owners who have driven them the longest. The reason goes deeper than fine body design and complete luxury. The motor! It is the Willys-Knight sleeve-valve motor ! This is the only type of motor which runs sweeter and better as miles of continuous service mount into the thousands. The increasing demand tor Willys-Knight cars is directly traceable to friends of owners Lhe ( } V l Willys-Overland In« loledo, Ohio Willys-Knight Touring Cars, Coupés, Sedans, Limou Overland Motor Cars and Light Commercial ¢ Yaa ei Cie. ewiele wie © © © ee S a sind ba waUvewy Cus views view! wer tera) hHyYoy we A ke italian BB Me lh I Bt i ih li pe oeeee —— : ee ee «wer SOOTY eee Te eee eee : ‘\ Perec eerrerrere er. | i | voeweeent peweeee re peeeeee oer eee eee veseeeeee ees se eet \ x

Page 118

116 — = Post-War Prices Peerless Eight passenger Tourtng, $2700 / pa é / passenger Roadster, $2760 47 nger Coupé, $3320 passenger Sedan, $3530 7 passenger Sedan-Limousine, $3720 leveland Subject lo change withoul notice Compare these prices with those of other cars which you might think of in considering the purchase of a car of this class. We believe that a very real margin of greater value in the Peerless Eight is readily apparent, even without considering the advantages of its [wo Power Ranges. And its two sharply contrasting power ranges give the Peerless the most distinctive comparative ad- vantage possessed by any motor car today. The Peerless Motor Car Co. Cleveland, Ohio, U.S. A. THE SATURDAY EVENING POST January 25,1919 a ad ee

Page 119

> er mn —_ ; — (Continued from Page 114) passionate human feeling. It has been read by tens and hundreds of thousands of people the world over who would never open the covers of a book of detached economic theory. A great part of Marx’s book is as detached and abstract as the work of his philosophical master, Hegel. The first three chapters, comprising a hundred and twenty pages, are a summary of an earlier book published in 1859, whose title—A Contribution to the Critique of Political Economy—would have fright- ened away most readers. These chapters treat of commodities, money and exchange. They are a technical discussion of abstract economic theory quite in the manner that earned for political economy the title of the dismal science. A great part of the re- mainder of the book is taken up with the elucidation and illustration of Marx’s the- ory of what he calls surplus value. This theory of surplus value is commonly re- garded by Marx’s followers as one of his greatest achievements — probably his great- est achievement as an economist. He is struck by the familiar fact that capital increases. A man throws a given value into production and exchange, and presently takes out a greater value. He wants to construct an elaborate, scientific explanation of that phenomenon. His first illustration runs thus: A merchant buys cotton for a hundred pounds and sells it for a hundred and ten pounds; so he hasin hand not only his original hundred pounds but ten pounds more. “* This incre ase or excess over the original valuc,”’ he says, ‘‘I call surplus value.”” But in that simple form even Marx regards surplus value as compara- tively harmless. Its deadly effect appears when applied to labor. Misleading Illustrations He illustrates it this way: The laborer comes to market, selling his labor power just as other commodities are sold. The value of this labor power is determined by the cost of rearing and sustaining the la- borer. Say the value of a day’s sustenance is three shillings, and that value can be reproduced by six hours’ labor. The cap- italist hires the laborer at three shillings a day; but, instead of requiring him to work only six hours—which is all the labor power his three shillings really paid for—he makes him work twelve hours. The second three shillings’ worth of labor power—represent- ing the unpaid six hours—creates surplus value accruing to the capitalist. The argu- ment is that the capitalist gets twelve hours’ labor power, but pays ‘the laborer for only six—the unpaid six hours resolving itself into surplus value, which is the great motive and mainspring of all capitalistic exploitation and the cause of labor’s mani fold tribulations. The theme thus baldly indicated is elab- orated to a prodigious extent. Part three of the book, comprising a hundred and forty- five pages, is devoted to absolute surplus value. Part four, comprising two hundred and fifteen pages, is taken up with relative surplus value. Part five, comprising twenty- nine pages, deals with absolute and relative surplus value. Nominally, nearly the whole book is about surplus value. Of course the man in the street would dispose of the whole matter by saying: “‘A capitalist hires workmen, puts them at work, and sells the product of their labor at a profit, getting back more than he paid out.’”” What Marx is really talking about all this while is what common folk call profit—-or, to use the finer technical defini- tions, interest, rent and profit, taken to- gether. What he has in mind is just the familiar fact that capital accumulates, and that the capitalist or employer—if he re- mains solvent—gets back more for the product of his hired labor than he paid out for the labor and the other elements that enter into production. His many illustrations are worked out on the basis of the capitalist paying for only half of the labor power he uses. Marx doesn’t say expressly that, as an actual rule, the capitalist or employer pays for only half of the labor power he uses, but all his illustrations tend to create that im- pression; and his total effort is to implant the idea that underpaid or unpaid wage labor is the source of profit and the cause of the increase of capital. It may be noted in passing that a very extensive school of socialistic writers dis- sents from Marx’s statement of the theory of surplus value and an immense quantity of controversial socialistic writing has THE SATURDAY EVENING POST resulted from the schism; but the dissenters | { themselves stick pretty tightly to the main proposition—that capital thrives simply by robbing labor. However, the real stuff of Socialism that Capital contains is something quite differ- ent from this long discussion of an abstract economic theory. The factory system of production, in which machinery is the out- standing feature, developed quite rapidly in the latter part of the eighteenth and fore part of the nineteenth century, coincident- ally with a series of revolutionary mechani- cal inventions such as the power loom and, above all, the steam engine. These inven- tions took manufacturing out of the hand- and-home stage and brought great numbers of workmen into cities. As a manufactur- er’s investment in plant increased by the building of bigger factories and installation of expensive machinery, he wanted to keep the plant going as many hours a day as pos- sible; for when it wasn’t going it repre- sented idle capital. Machinery made it possible to employ the labor of children to a greater extent than before. Manufacturers were in hot competition with one another. If one of them cut down his labor cost by working his force longer hours and employing more women and children, others followed suit. Society, as usual, was slow in waking up to the evils of thenew conditions. The result was a frightful exploitation of labor—espe- cially child labor. Marx quotes scores or perhaps hundreds of instances of it. In the lace trade at Not- tingham “children of nine or ten years are dragged from their squalid beds at two, three or four o’clock in the morning and compelled to work until ten, eleven or twelve at night, their frames dwindling, their faces whitening, their humanity sink- ing into a stonelike torpor horrible to con- template.” “William Wood, nine years old when he began, came to work every morning at six A. M. and left off about nine Pp. M. He said: ‘I worked all last night until six o’clock this morning. I have not been in bed since night before last. There were eight or nine other boys working last night.’ In a certain tile field at Moseley a young woman was in the habit of making two thousand tiles a day with the assistance of two little girls who carried the clay for her and stacked the tiles. These girls carried daily ten tons up the slippery sides of the clay pit. It is impossible for a child to pass through the purgatory of a clay pit without great moral degradation.” English Labor Laws A great number of such quotations ap- pear in the book—about child labor chiefly, In the potteries of Staffordshire | but also about bad housing of the poor, ill | health, and poverty generally. All these quotations Marx took from official reports—generally the reports of parliamentary committees or commissions. So capitalist or bourgeois society was suffi- ciently concerned about these things to investigate them at great length. The ex- pressions of horror and indignation that appear in Marx’s quotations are from the lips of bourgeois doctors, legislators, and so on; and bourgeois society was constantly passing laws designed to better affairs. A factory act of 1833 prohibited the employ- ment of children under nine in textile indus- tries; provided that those between nine and thirteen should work no more than eight hours a day, those between thirteen and eighteen no more than twelve hours a day; and forbade night work for those under eighteen. An act of 1844 limited the work- ing hours of women over eighteen, and the workday of children under thirteen was reduced to six and a half hours. Three years later the workday for all hands was fixed at ten hours. It is true, as Marx points out at great length, that employers opposed these early child-labor laws and limitations of the working day, as a great many of them have opposed all like legislation ever since. But it is equally true that capitalist or bour- geois society carried these acts into effect in spite of the employers, whom Marx pic- tures as completely controlling society. Marx himself recites the well-known fact that early British labor legislation, begin- ning with the famous medieval Statute of Laborers, was all for the purpose of coer- cing the laborer, forbidding him to ask or receive more than a certain fixed wage, restricting his freedom of movement, and so on; in short, all for the advantage of the employer and the disadvantage of the | Sh ETD al oe . et Ten thousand dollars’ worth of boilers were thrown out by the Richards Wilcox Mfg. Co., of Aurora, Ill., last summer to make way for the Kewanee Smokeless Firebox Boiler, which burns soft coal with more efficiency than any other type of boiler made and absolutely no smoke RESULT—the big firm is so tickled that it will never return to hard coal or Pocahontas and it will save the tremendous difference in cost between soft and hard coal. Yet, before the hard coal famine we couldn't in- duce the members of this firm to even discuss soft coal or its possibilities in a good boiler. This war has driven home a lot of lessons that ought to have been learned before. Soft coal was de- spised until hard coal went over seas. And when we showed that the Kewanee Smokeless Firebox Boiler would burn this despised coal with as much effect, with as little smoke and less cost, the world of industry woke up, and it is getting wider awake every minute. There is as much heat in a pound of soft coal as there is in a pound of hard coal, providing it is properly burned. And this Kewanee Boiler burns it properly— burns it cleanly—even if it is slack or coal dust. And we will make this prediction, that even when this war is over, and hard coal comes back into the market, you will not use it if you once use soft coal in a Kewanee Smokeless Firebox Boiler. This boiler is especially adapted for heating school buildings, apartment houses and other large build- ings that require from 2000 feet of radiation and more than that up to any size. No, we don’t know how long Kewanee Firebox boilers will last. We have only been making them for 37 years. None of them have worn out in that time. So, how can we tell how long lived they are? to the Old Man Behind the Boiler in Kewanee you valuable mformation A letter today Ill, wall bring KEWANEE BOILER COMPANY Kewanee, Illinois } about oft coal Steel Heating Boilers, Radiators, Tanks, Water Heating Garbage Burners BRANCH OFFICES; Cn AGO, Market and Washington Sts. sALT iit CITY, Scott Building NEW YORK, 47 West 42nd St. MIL UKEE, Majestic Building KANSAS CITY, 2014 Wyandotte St. PITTSBURG 948 Oliver Buildin ST. LOUIS, 1212 Chemical Building DALLAS, Southwestern Life Building MINNEAPOLIS, 708 Builders Exchange DETROIT: 1925 Ford Building WASHINGTON, D. C., 534 Southern Building LOS ANGELES, Baker- Detwiler Bidg. Canadian Representatives Ph a DOMINION RADIATOR CO., Ltd.,— Toronto, Ont., Montreal, Que., Man., Hamilt Ont., St. John, N.B. , Calgary, Alta., Vancouver, B.C.

Page 120

118 THE SATURDAY EVENING POST YANKEE Ratchet Means Easier Work N ve R tS 4 betw tw i \ ' I Ra a Right-ha kk hee ; ° rt P - DOUBLE RATCHET 0 ’ r ‘ft u } W This “ the many dithculties “YANKEI and doing work that you Tools cleverly designed for dodging cannot do with other | employee. | developed. | advantage of the workman. YANKEE” Ratchet Hand Drill, No. 1530, is one of | That, according to Marx, was be- capitalistic or bourgeois régime had Under the capitalistic régime labor legislation is all for the protection and Which seems to show that selfishness did not get into human nature through modern capitalism and that not even capitalism eradicates compassion from it. The whole purpose of the book is to demonstrate that these horrible examples are a necessary consequence of capitalism or private ownership, and that under cap- italism labor can never be very much better off than the horrible examples show. The whole argument may be summarized thus: Profit is the aim of capitalism; appropria- tion by the capitalist of unpaid labor power is the source of profit; consequently, in order to expand capital must prey upon labor, and the more capital flourishes, the worse off labor must be, because the ad- vantage of the one arises precisely from the disadvantage of the other. ‘“‘The rate of surplus value’’—or profit—‘“depends, in the first place, on the degree of the exploi- tation of labor power.”” And “there is nota single atom of this value’’—that is, surplus value—‘‘that does not owe its existence to unpaid labor.”” So “‘ property turns out to be the right on the part of the capitalist fore the | to appropriate the unpaid labor of others.” ad tools. Only 10! in. long, and 114 pounds in weight, yet has | f . ‘es all the adju tments described above. 3 jaw steel chuck holds drills up to 3-16 in. . You know how often you lose an hour get- ting a five-minute job where you can a \ reach it with a common drill. Not 1 so with the “YANKEE.” Its five | eo ’ adjustments allow you to reach into ‘ey awkward places and easily ac- \, complish work that would be dedaned impossible by any me- chanic who did not know the “YANKEE.” If you can move the crank at all, you can drill the hole. The ““YANKEE”’ Double Ratchet drills as rapidly in atight corner as where a full turn of the crank can be made. “YANKEE” Ratchet Hand Drill # No, 1530 dtiriutetsar — : ne ary ile Price $3.90 [ YANKEE” 1 A Your Dealer Can Supply You. inaction. Lilustr North Bros. Mfg. Co., Philadelphia cs These Handles JZ Never Work Loose Pa That's what “YANKEE” mea: on these screw-drivers, a dj one reason it pays you t > insist on this brand tie Handle and blade are fa tened together to stay ~—® absolutely , “YANKEE” No. ®— Standard style, 15 sizes ! in. to 30 in. blades We to $2.35 each “YANKEE” No.% Cabinet style, 11 sizes, 2‘ m. to 15 in. blades, We to Wi Marx nowhere, I believe, says that the particular kind of labor he is talking about that is, wage labor—is the only source of wealth; but he everywhere does say that unpaid labor is the source of surplus value or the accumulation of wealth in private hands. What employers may contribute in the way of organization, leadership, man- agement, invention or productive ability generally is treated as negligible. Shortening the workday can do labor no real good because capital, bound to have its pound of flesh, will make up for a shorter day by requiring intenser application. ‘* The tendency that urges capital, as soon as a prolongation of working hours is forbidden, to compensate itself by systematic height- ening of the intensity of labor, and to con- vert every improvement in machinery into a more perfect means of exhausting the workman, must soon lead to a state of things in which a reduction of the working hours will again be inevitable.” Theories and Facts The workman must be exhausted. If his working day, under capitalism, is reduced to eight or six hours, that will be only be- cause machinery enables capital to accom- plish the e shausting i in a shorter period. If capital is to get its profit the workman must be ground up like so much raw ma- terial. The shorter the working day, the faster the grind. In Marx's time the process, according to his statement, was already so rapid that ‘“‘the laborer, halfway through his life, has more or less completely lived himself out. He falls into the ranks of the supernumeraries or is thrust down from a higher to a lower step in the scale.” One great reason why labor, according to Marx, can never be better off under cap- italism is that capitalism by its very nature inevitably produces a constantly growing quantity of surplus labor—that is, un- employed or half employed labor. Marx demonstrates this mathematically in the following manner: Capital takes two forms—fixed or constant capital, invested in buildings, machinery, railroads, and so | on; and fluid or variable capital. Only the latter sort can be used for the employment of labor. In other words, a man can’t use his store building to hire labor. He must have cash or credit in hand. But as capital accumu- lates a relatively larger and larger part of it goes into fixed forms; '8o a relatively smaller portion is available for the employment of labor. And, as the working population increases all the while, it is clear that a relatively greater part of it must be unem- ployed. Hence, inevitably, the more capi- tal and the richer the country, the greater the amount of idle or half-employed labor. That may sound fantastic when you re- call the labor situation in the United States during the last three years—remembering, also, that in addition to the natural increase of our working population we absorbed several hundred thousand immigrant work- men annually for a dozen years before the war. But by reading section three of chapter twenty-five of the first volume of Capital you will learn that the inexorable law I have referred to above makes it in- evitable that the richer the country under January 25,1919 a capitalist rane. the greater must be the quantity of idle labor. ‘“‘The greater the social wealth and the functioning ¢ capi- tal . . . the greater is the industrial reserve army ’’—that is, of the unemployed. “The relative mass of the reserve army increases, therefore, with the potential energy of wealth. This is the abso- lute general law of capitalist accumula- tion.” And Marx adds: “Like all other general laws, it is modified in its workings by many circumstances, the analysis of which does not concern us here.”” So pre- sumably, even though the circumstances quite contradict the absolute general law, we should stick to the law and ignore the circumstances. Nor can a rise of wages do the workman any real good, “for it follows, therefore, that, in proportion as capital accumulates, the lot of the laborer, be his wages high or low, must grow worse.” Under certain rather exceptional circumstances the cap- italist may play the workman off a bit by handing back to him in the form of wages a somewhat greater part of his own surplus product; so wage-earners “‘can extend the circle of their own enjoyments, make some addition to their consumption fund of clothes, furniture, and so on, and lay by small reserves of money. But just as little as better clothing, food and treatment do away with the exploitation of slaves, so little do they set aside that of the wage- earner.” And any such apparent advantage must be short-lived. Since the accumulation of capital arises from the robbery of labor, the extent of a nation’s wealth under a capi talistic régime is merely a sign of the extent to which that robbery has been carried The richer the country, the worse off labor must be. The law of capitalist production “establishes an accumulation of misery cor responding with the accumulation of wealth Accumulation of wealth at one pole is therefore accumulation of misery, agony of toil, slavery, ignorance, brutality and men- tal degradation at the other pole.’’ So says Marx. No doubt American employers look upon the organization of workmen in labor unions as a circumstance that materially modifies the “absolute general law of capitalistic accumulation.’’ Organized American labor itself regards that circumstance as far more important than the general law itself and stands aloof from Socialism. But, having demonstrated that as capital accumulates labor must be worse off, and there can be no real, lasting advantage either in shorter poms or higher pay, the first volume of Capital naturally leaves labor unions out of the account altogether. Their object is to secure shorter hours and higher pay, which it has shown to be futile. Logically a pros perous workman under a flourishing state of capitalism ought to be an object of de- testation to Socialists, for Socialism dem onstrates by an absolute law that capital and labor cannot prosper together. An Interesting Admission Incidentally, Marx admiés, capitalists may thrive to some extent otherwise than by robbery of labor—namely, by robbery of small proprietors. He complains that “‘ po- litical economy confuses, on principle, two very different kinds of; private property one resting on the producer’s own effort, the other on the employment of the labor of others. It forgets that the latter not only is the direct antithesis of the former but absolutely grows only on its tomb.” That is to say, where the land is divided among many small owners, as in the United States, and workmen, such as our carpen- ters and plumbers, own their own tools of production, a man may honestly earn a comparatively small amount of private property —become comparatively comfort- ably off —without robbing labor. But this state of things is ‘‘compatible only with a system of production and a society moving within narrow and more or less primitive bounds.”’ And it cannot last. ‘“‘At a certain stage of development it brings forth the agencies for its own dissolution.’’ Capitalism eats it up, bringing ‘“‘the dissolution of private property based on the labor of its owner,” and “‘the transformation of individualized means of production into concentrated ones, of the pygmy property of the many into the huge property of the few, the ex propriation of the great mass of the people from the soil and the means of subsist- ence. . Self-earned private property (Concluded on Page 121) ae «

Page 121

THE SATURDAY EVENING POST

%\ im i¥

Lijdh ; ) TrtTT a rl 4D Lub) nL) | ALLL HL rr =. Tittrvt tit jiu Ki i aries rit t AT iitrr + —- ie Trt eT eS o als , — ST hr — Tae am es Hips =e » Niner

CAIG Ghe Most Beautifiul Car in America An Honest Product We have abundant reason to believe that a Company is known by the goods that it makes and the friends that it keeps. Proof of Quality is the Reputation which a motor car has won and steadfastly holds through years of public service—through all manufacturing and selling conditions. The extraordinary demand for Paige Cars that now confronts us is impressive proof, we believe, that the Paige Policy to give the greatest dollar-for-dollar value on the market has the uni- versal endorsement of the American public. The New Series Paige Models are striking examples of this policy. For ten years now of manufacture, continuously expanded to meet demands, we have permitted Paige Cars to carry our mes- sage, to confirm our Policies. Paige Design has stood for Beauty. Paige Workmanship has stood for Quality. The Paige Name Plate has stood for Character. Now on the threshold of a New Year, potentially the Most Prosperous and Constructive Year our Nation has ever known, we are as full of Confidence for the Future as of Gratitude for the Past. Paige Cars, coming through the most crucial tests of a decade’s service in the hands of thousands of owners, stand pre-eminent as Quality Products, honestly designed, honestly built and hon- estly priced. A Paige Car is and will always be a Preferred Investment.

PAIGE-DETROIT MOTOR CAR COMPANY, DETROIT, U.S. A.

ea rriree eT ree he

' n rn a . —-+ oti ye <@ Trt Mal rrr TT Lad) Jj eek =. e)< AL

4

Page 122

THE SATURDAY EVENING POST January 25,1919 ta * = I The Reward of a High Ideal EFORE the war, the name “Rolls- Royce” stood for high mechanical excellence in automobile construc- tion—perhaps the world’s best. During the war “Rolls-Royce” has meant a won- derful aviation motor— greater even than the famed automobile motor. During the past four years, Rolls-Royce factories have been devoted to the pro- duction of these aviation motors exclu- Yet they could not meet the demand. Additional manufacturing fa- cilities had to be found. None were available in England and so British gov- ernment and Rolls-Royce engineers came to America in search of a plant that could meet Rolls-Royce standards of excellence. sively. Following a thorough canvass of motor car factories and a study of men, meth- ods, equipment and quality of present product, these engineers were convinced that the Stearns-Knight organization and factories were suitable for the precision manufacture of this motor. So they se- lected this organization for Rolls-Royce production. Thus the high ideals of Stearns-Knight manufacture were rewarded. Since then, thousands of Rolls-Royce aviation motors have been built, delivered and accepted. These contracts have been completed. Stearns efhiciency and excellent work- manship have been highly complimented by Rolls-Royce engineers. Stearns-Knight master workmanship has now been released from this impor- tant war work. An enlarged and per- fected plant and organization has turned its energies to Stearns-Knight cars. These cars reflect, both in design and manufac- ture, the experience gained in building the famous Rolls-Royce motors. Daimler of England, Panhardof France, and Minerva of Belgium—world-famed cars—first proved the superiority of a Knight-motored car. Then Stearns of- fered America the Stearns-Knight. Today this car represents power, silence, flexi- bility and reliability. It most closely ap- proaches that for which all motordom has sought. Write for illustrated brochure detailing particulars. 2 CLEVELAND, OHIO THE F. B. STEARNS COMPANY D/() _ -_ jouuiner A BS Pe eS a Ve MOTOR CARS

Page 123

a ne eS EY aS ae ———— ' t \ (Concluded from Page 118 is supplanted by capitalistic private prop- erty, which rests on the exploitation of the labor of others. - One capitalist kills many.’ This obviously is particularly interesting for the United States, where there are six million owners of farm property and many other million owners of modest amounts of private property that could hardly have been accumulated by the robbery of wage- earners. These owners of more or less inno- cent private property have got to go, Marx says, for capitalistic private property ab- solutely grows only on the tomb of innocent private property. Capitalistic private property—the only kind that can finally survive—arises from the exploitation of labor. When a farmer hires labor he is as much an exploiter as anybody else, his gains rising from the unpaid labor power he appropriates. At first glance, then, it might seem that farm- ers who hire any considerable amount of labor could survive, for in that case their property becomes capitalistic. But Marx shows in section two of chapter twenty-five how extremely precarious the state of small capitalists is. They are exploiters, with no good title to the property they hold, but their economic sinfulness does not save them. The larger capitalists eat them up. There occurs ‘‘the expropriation of many capitalists by the few,” with ‘‘a constantly diminishing number of the magnates of capital.” Capital grows by robbery of labor. The more it grows, the worse the lot of labor must be. Larger capitalists absorb smaller ones, farmers included. Society is divided into two classes, one the mortal enemy of the other. Finally wage-earners revolt, turn out the bourgeoisie or property own- ers, take control of society, and put all means of production under public owner- ship. Then there is no more private capi- tal, no more wages, no more profit, and consequently none of those evils of overwork and poverty which Marx says are an in- evitable result of the system of private ownership of productive property. Such is Karl Marx’s message to the world. The Bolshevik Experiment He might have simplified it, leaving out the long, dry discussion of abstract eco- nomic theory and the algebraic formulas he is so fond of using—putting it this way: “Tf you are ill off and your neighbor is well off, his good fortune is the cause of your ill fortune; therefore, oust him.’”’ Reduced to an algebraic formula, that would be as scientific as anything else about Socialism. An ill-off, discontented man can readily grasp that proposition. Probably, in the main, that is just what discontent does grasp in Socialism. Though Marx argues that shorter hours do labor no real good while industries are pri- vately owned, Socialism generally teaches that when industries are publicly owned much shorter working hours will produce plenty of goods for everybody. Under private ownership shorter hours exhaust the workman and leave a great and growing mass of the population in want; while un- der public ownership shorter hours give the workman health, recreation and content, and at the same time provide reasonably comfortable subsistence for everybody. Marx was trained in German philosophy, then dominated by Hegel. From Hegel’s day to this other philosophers have dis- puted as to what he meant and whether whatever he did mean was true. Yet finally the great philosopher played safe, for finally it is quite impossible for any finite being either to prove or disprove his speculations concerning infinity. But Marx chose to spin a purely specu’ative theory about finite things. By a strange series of events his followers seized political power in a great nation and attempted to put his theories into actual practice here on earth; so we know how they actually worked at the only time they have ever been tried. That the Russians are a singularly and even pathetically literal-minded people is a statement that has been worn threadbare. Tolstoy wanted to put the New Testament, as he understood it, literally and immedi- ately into practice. Russian workmen were taught Marxian Socialism, took it at its face value and tried to follow it. When the Bolsheviki excluded the bourgeoisie, or property owners, from any share in the government they were strictly following Das Kapital, which says that THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 121 the socialistic state must be brought about and dominated by the proletariat, or- ganized as the ruling class, and which teaches all through that the middle class, | embracing practically all property owners and their professional satellites—such as nonsocialistic journalists, doctors, engi- neers, and so on—is the deadly enemy of the working class because it can prosper only on the exploitation and degradation of wage labor. “A government carried on by Soviets”’—or councils—“ of delegates from the working class and the poorer peasantry as the sole organs of the state”’ is the way a friendly observer describes the Bolshevik idea of government. Bolshevik spokesmen themselves do not pretend that this is democracy. ‘They say it is proletarian dictatorship. Democracy means everybody. Marxian Socialism, as literally applied in Russia, means only wage-earners and the poorer peasantry. Yeta good many American Socialists insist that it is very democratic, for all that. It sometimes seems as though you could never discourage a Socialist with a fact. Naturally Marx says nothing about sup- pressing bourgeois newspapers — which means almost any opposition newspaper and putting bourgeois objectors in jail. But, since he does teach that property owners are the inveterate enemies of wage- earners, and that the latter can achieve | a tolerable state of existence only by | probably those overthrowing the former, oppressive measures would be a logical consequence of his doctrine. A Doctrine of Hate Socialism says wage-earners must con- trol industry and that, with public own- ership of industries, plenty of goods for everybody can be produced with a shorter working day. The Bolsheviki put that into practice also. The hateful bourgeois man- agement of factories was thrown out. Wage-earners took control and worked pretty much how and when they pleased. No abundance of goods resulted, however, but a woeful scarcity of all kinds of goods. The nation’s transportation and manufac- turing plants deteriorated and disintegrated to an alarming degree. In the cities food presently became scarce. The Socialists had excluded the bour- geoisie from any share in the government. They had nationalized the land, the banks, the factories. They had followed the rules. If the result was destitution instead of plenty it wasn’t because the rules were wrong, but because the devil of capitalism still somehow managed to cast its malign spell. Confronted with failure, they fol- lowed the example of the French Revolu tion and resorted to terror—that is, to proscription, imprisonment and execution of the bourgeoisie. No rational person doubts President Wilson’s sympathy with democracy and with the economic under dog generally. He said the attitude of other nations toward revolutionary Russia was the acid test of their democracy and good faith. When he protested against Bolshevik terror we may be sure he had good grounds. But the Bolshevik foreign secretary justifies the resort to terror— besides intimating plainly enough that it is no business of a capital istic state anyway. The disorganization, want and blood in Russia are a product of Marxian Socialism. Essentially Marx’s doc trine is a doctrine of hate and division. Russian Socialists proclaim their ambi tion to bring about a revolution in every other nation in the world and the over- throw of every other government, but they are intensely indignant over any suggestion of interference with their sway in Russia on the part of any other government. Thé¢ democratic governme‘its of the, United States and England are on bad terms with the Bolsheviki not because those govern- ments are capitalistic, but because they find it impossible to dea} with the Bolshe viki, who openly brand every other govern- ment as an enemy and treat it as such to the greatest extent they dare. Russia presents, so far, the only attempt to put Marx’s theories into practice. The result is not generally looked upon as encouraging. Whatever people elsewhere may think about it, only a handful of people in thi country are able to discover that private ownership is working so frightfully as Marx said it was bound to work, or to accept the Marxian conclusion that there is no chance of material improvement for the mass of the people under it. PEE deee pred AW STEEL PRODUCTS i) = Other Than Saws! Steel are Fashioned from Simonds Saw many objects. Circular Cutters for Paper, Cork, Cloth, Cigarettes, Meat Slicers, Leather Cutting, Creasing and Scor- ing Rule, also ‘Trimming Knives for Printers and Paper Box Makers. High Speed Steel Knives for Planing Mills and Wo vl Working Factories. Veneer Knives—Tobacco Knives—-Leather Splitters’ Belt Knives. The above, and those for many other purposes, are made from the same Simonds Saw Steel which we also furnish uniformity is required. in bars or sheets where absolute Inquiries are invite ‘ whether for Wood or Metal Cutting Saws, va rious cutting tools or hardene d, flat steel plates lemperea and ground, Simonds Manufacturing Co. “*The Saw Makers’’ Established 1832 Fitchburg, Massachusetts Chicag I M eal, Que Lackport, N.Y San Francisco, Ca New York City Portland, Or Memphis, Tenn. Seattle, Wash New Orleans,.La. Vancouve B ¢ ngland St. John, N. B

Page 124

a fold Pens. records fo @ —‘-ESTERBROOK | Manifold Pen No. 460 Cuts your Billing and Recording cost in half THE SATURDAY Clear permanent originals and two perfect , copies at one writing with Esterbrook Mani- Perspiration or a drop of water does not ruin copy as with an indelible pencil or cause smudges on original. Originals in ink are preferable to pencil they are legal evidence. } Bills, Shipping records, Receiving records— j any manifolded records made in the quickest time | Send 15¢ for sample dozen and most efficient manner. Esterbrook Pen Mfg. Co. 2-70 Cooper Street, CAMDEN, N. J. i \/ Listerbrook Pens — Please end us your name today so we can mail you copy olf our latest violin catalog, free to violinist We have been the leading violin suthority in the United States for three decades and our catalog of new and rare old violins @ @ posses sion to be prized by any in tending purchaser. We will also co particulars of our own Cremonatone Violin, now offered on a special small monthly payment plan This is the best value in America in a high quality, priced = instru Antonius & ment Also America’s larg mee My est and finest collection of * . Rare Old Violins. Fill out and mail to us moderately Name Add r whether t ' hel New \ Old \ " I ' | le your nam ' rt it being compiled We tak ed violin xc ha age Vrite ding Must wil Lyon & le Musical Instrun wrt & Healy Known in Music 54-72 Jackson Blvd., Chicago Henry Ford tells boys: in the February number of THE CANB “The Biggest, —. — a for Boys read by 500, 000 chang every month. Don't fail to get the February number—a big number full of fascinating stories, prac- tical articles and beautiful illustrations. At news-stands, 20 cents. Or send a sub- scription for a year, $2.00, to THE SPRAGUE PUBLISHING ©O., 307 American Building, Detroit, Mich. CHILDS’ GIANT KOCHIA, our 1918 novelty, has taken its place everywhere as the great e. It rivals the beet Ferns or Palms in deco tative effects and is equally valuable tor garden of pota, a pyramid of dense feathery green foliage all summer, in fall, a dark claret red till Christ mas. Easiest of all plants to grow anywhere Pkt, 20% pear HLESS pl deb ees listinet and abe the tenderest and ewe t =f ice grown Pie ise rwo- POR NDTOMATO Largest, heaviest, richest and most solid Tomato. A perfect marvel. Pkt. 10x c HINE SE WOOLFLOWERS The showiest new gardea annual for bedding. Nothing like it. Pkt. 20c JOHN LEWIS CHILDS, GARDEN NOVELTIES HOW TO COOK VEGETA- BLES, a booklet giving 666 receipts for cooking, cannin and preserving vegetables 4 all kinds. Will make one’s gar den cropsdoubly valuable. 10c SPECIAL OFFER For 20c we will send every- thing, Kochia, Lettuce, To- mato, Woolflower, vegetable book and catalogue. Order now. Supply limited. BIG CATALOGUE free. All flower and vegetable eeeda, buibs ws and berries. We grow the finest Gladioli, Dahlias, Cannas, Irises, Peonies, Perennials, Shrubs, V ~a, Ferns, Roses, Sweet Peas, Asters, Pansies, Beets, Beans, Cabbage, Onions, Tomatoes, Seed Corn, " tc Prize strains and sterling novelties INC., Floral Park, N. Y. EVENING POST January 25,1919 Ai WORM’S-EYE VIEW OF | FILMLAND (Continued from Page 17) dramatic failure thus: ‘‘ Well, young feller, I guess they’s a lotta horses you’ve never rode,” But undismayed I stuck by the flickering drama—and how she flickered in those | days!—and even learned to ride, so that I | should be equal to the dramatic heights de- manded by those hyperbolic directors. | Though a beautiful front is no doubt pleasing to the gods the dollar-and-a-half audience goes to see artists rather than pretty valentines—in fact, many of the stage successes could never sign a beauty page—but I soon learned that a ten-cent | audience cares not so much for acting as the actor. The Myrts and Berts who compose | eighty-five per cent of the movie fans are shameless hero worshipers. They care not | a whop if Harry Le Grande is but a choco- | late soldier of film fortune, and Denver | Dune, The Booth of Badeye, has but one | expression with which to register friendship, love, indifference and hate; these hand- some heroes are the chicken standards of perfect roosterhood. They are worshiped— yes, worshiped—not for what they do but for what they are—or appear to be. “‘My Dear Harry Le Grande: I went to see you in The Bubble and the way you looked at Miss Flopit in the third reel convinces me you have a beautiful soul, and are a fine and noble man. I wish I could Won't | you send me your picture, not in make-up but just as you are?” This love of the individual is largely due to the intense intimacy of the screen. Long distance and a wall of light separate theater folk from the performers, but the close-up of the film permits the ardent devotees to look into the very souls of their heroes. The mail of the he-dolls is eloquent proof that they are loved for themselves. Thus it came about that directors chose their leads from among the birds of fine feather. If they could ride well and fall, all the better; but in case of push they could always be doubled in the rough stuff. Even to-day personal pulchritude is well-nigh senantioll and if in addition Harry can act his weekly pay will be greater than Shak- spere’s lifetime earnings. The Tragedies in Double Chins Then why, it may be asked, did I not make up and simulate a candy kid? On the stage we find actors of fifty and over play- ing juvenile parts with great success. The reason is an optical one: the screen inti- macy that permits Myrt to almost grasp | her cutie’s hand reveals. the years beneath | the most masterly of make-ups. A young face may add age by careful artistry, but not a day can be subtracted when one’s eyes begin to lose their youth and a dewlap drapes below the chin. Red paint and sur- gical reefs have been tried by many old stage | favorites who would fain compete with youth’s supernal charm, but the mean old close-up reveals the counterfeit. Oh, the tragedies that lurk in double chins! The futility of stage make-up is best evi- denced by the fact that every character man coming from the stage brings with him a trunkload of wigs he may never use again. So fine and fragile are the things the screen demands that I have used up three—at twenty-five per—while making one picture. The truth is, if we have sufficient notice we try to grow the foliage necessary to the part. For months I may go about witha sacri- legious beard, followed by a clean jowl and the waxed mustache of the libertine. For six weeks past Robertson Rand has worn the patriarchal beard of a Mormon elder; to-day I saw him tonsured like a stock- broker, yet the change was achieved by the barber. We will even shave our heads to play a criminal or a Chink. The curse of our screen anonymity follows us into our pri- | vate lives, for often our best friends fail to | recognize us in our new facial decorations. When a hard-boiled gatekeeper stops us at the temple’s entrance our disguise may be said to be complete. But I am getting ahead of my story. Even an ability to characterize and inter- pret difficult rdles was of little value in my first years. “Actors? Hell, I’ve got cowboys who can do all the acting I need!” said one of the greatest directors of the day. And though the newer photoplays are more and more demanding artistry, yet it is true that stars can still be made from mental defectives if the director is a genius. When the curtain goes up in the theater the actor is on his own resources for the entire three acts, which necessitates at least enough literacy to commit the lines to memory, even though he understand not a word of what he is saying; but on the screen he need not think at all, and his every movement and gesture may result from the pulling of strings by the master of the show. There were directors who frankly said they preferred to work with beautiful half-wits. As the domestic drama encroached upon the tumultuous life of the plains acting came into its own. Though a cowboy could high dive to his Maker from the back of a plunging steed he knew nothing of death in a forty-dollar flat. Ain Expert in Violence A murder scene that created tremendous critical interest last spring was enacted by Rand in a manner unique to unobservant cow waddies. Personating a rich roué dis- covered while entertaining another woman in his apartment, his mistress promptly shot him. Did he clutch his throat, roll his eyes, stomp about and then fall in a writhing heap? He did not. Apparently unaware that he had been struck he strolled over to the bed, sat on the edge, lighted a cigarette, and then noticed for the first time the blood coming through his shirt front. As his strength failed he simply lay down in utter weariness. “Where did you get that technic, Bob?” I asked after witnessing the scene. “Well, my boy,” replied the old fellow, “T’ve seen eleven so-called violent deaths in my long and stormy life, and nearly all of them were quiet. And I have noticed this: When a man is shot in a fleshy part of the body he may not know it for some time, especially if he is intoxicated or excited. Fifteen years ago in a Portland hotel I saw a fellow shot in the abdomen, and turning completely round he blandly asked where the shooting was. When he learned the truth he walked quietly to his room, where he just crumpled up and died. After the excitement of the battle was over the boys at the Front were often surprised to learn they had been shot. Another thing most directors do not know is that while the tragedy is enacting there is absolutely no movement in the crowd. It is frozen stiff in fascinated horror.” As a director must use most of his steam in coaching stars—and this is heroic work when it is a beautiful but untrained child in her teens—it has been found wise to build up the rest of the cast with good actors, whose every gesture need not be coached. So the Filmart has in stock a group of well-known stage stars whose phys- ical differences permit them to play nearly any part demanded. On the stage great artists often surround themselves with incompetents and even go on the road with shabby sets, depending on their own art to put the show over. With us the reverse is often true; the star may have absolutely no merit but physical beauty—that is one essential factor—so we surround her with good actors, provide her gorgeous sets, employ an intelligent di- rector, and then put behind her a great organization of publicity. I must hasten to add that we have some stars with both beauty and consummate artistry, but they are few ard far between. At some of the cheaper studios they still use types to play lesser réles, but as a rule they are very bad performers. Furthermore it is stupid to expect anything else, for the hardest thing in acting is to play one- self. Most studios now use types merely for their physical appearance and to create atmosphere for the story. Only last week I heard Rand coaching a red-headed black- smith in the peculiarities of his own trade. “Hey, Mister Man, laborers don’t use their hands like brain workers. Men who work with their muscles always stand with their finge rs bent, as though holding some- thing.” Often when a type is given a bit to do he is turned over to one of us—professional (Continued on Page 125) 6S eS Eee >. i RS ee

Page 125

; ar THE SATURDAY EVENING POST 123 (HLH NEAT "iN {AANHHLOON HELIO HUET ‘Wi (Hdl een pe ieee ‘HNN ‘iii en | iH lvottl lint j renin emanell ihn Jv idivnivnnuigvill HHH MH lliliniil i | — Ho pi WATT ul i 1 Witt Y 2 un My iN unl! TH iH nf | wunnnniall! iil ivi NAA ional Mn wil int il nin" iy i Il r !! jl iw add the nat TALEALAL LLL LL nationa init ul Ninna (MH prom pan iin A penne MAM TT | al ini ii ii ili iui NAH ‘ii jin i | ‘i co ‘i i ini iii | ii i fit tm i It ‘i il Hunk i " AW IM it" Ng 11H NA tpt UA vost HHHHHHUOE Pe | s ig il i Mf i" TU hen ijionanudl eran) — Waid hil qn NNVATTANAAUAHi uit? in | la yitiljivtl enn nn iii il \iytdadddvnnngiidA(iOUEE avid it {Hvlddpd dition WaT y., iil i i ‘aa A ua ili ill si MuliMiil jenn vivid tint tn ei ‘i ui (| i. NM i a penn | itt Seta Hindi AH “\ini r it | nt unnynnnntennnynitl pee i ylation nit HHH il wil inl TTT lll is Adil | Civili hil ‘ip pHi tnvtiiiil pndoindiiil I VAAN UUEHT IAAL soni if AN i pio iN viii jini team iene y a av Suni hi el A | M4 ‘ sini ‘Ai | \\ Sa : yp My My, i, » ~ 2 wwii | » 4 a "inl iit ' ; wi iNMulliidini ul NW "ail AH (Mil il anil jv ll SS Label jiu el A ‘Kil i Me HI init hn Ve | ‘ie (HHI pangs inl TTLLUAAAas? Hunt je en iedevndannsisdnneiqqUtl eu | sil | ‘li ;' Tila Hn att Hilal i}nvodenvoginaqqial uit | ‘ie nal iin iin ll ‘Mal primal ‘mi fe ioe ‘jn ‘Nl i "ii el al yn Hg | Cre ii ys “CRIMP CUT LONG BURNING PIPE TOBACCO ycitoiiid til sj se snl | Mini AY, you'll have a streak of smoke- luck that'll put pep-in-your- smokemotor, all right, if you'll ring-in with a jimmy pipe and nail some Prince Albert for packing! Just between ourselves, you never will wise-up to high-spot-smoke-joy until: you can call a pipe by its first name, then, to hit the peak-of-pleas- ure you land square on that two- fisted-man-tobacco, Prince Albert! Well, sir, you'll be so _ all-fired happy you'll want to get Win AN roa Scrub up your smokedecks and cut for a new pipe deal! wager-your-wad on P. A. and a pipe! Quality makes Prince Albert so different, so appealing. Men who never before could smoke a pipe and men who’ve smoked pipes for years all testify to the delight it hands out! P. A. hits the universal taste. That’s why it’s the national joy smoke! And, it can’t bite or parch. Both are cut out by our ex- clusive patented process! Right now while the year’s young you get out your old a photograph of your- self breezing up the pike with your smokethrottle wide open! Talk about smoke-sport! You You buy Prince Albert everywhere tobacco is sold. Toppy red bags, tidy red tins, handsome pound and half pound tin humidors—and—that classy, practical pound crystal glass humidor with sponge moistener top that keeps the tobacco in such perfect condition. jimmy pipe or invest in a new one and land on some P. A. for what ails your particular smoke appetite ! R. J. Reynolds Tobacco Company, Winston-Salem, N. C.

Page 126

tN THE SATURDAY EVENING POST Za xy THE CROIX de GUERRE has been awarded the First and Second Groupe- ments of the Great Headquarters Reserve No. | of the French Army, each operating 500 or more White Trucks. Citations for distinguished service accompanied the order, supplemented by a later citation to the entire Reserve No. 1, operating 2,500 WHITE TRUCKS This is the first and only instance on record of motor trans- port formations in avy army receiving this high honor. The White Trucks were all veterans, many in continuous war service since 1914. “White ‘Trucks Have the Stamina” &> THE WHITE COMPANY CLEVELAND January 25,1919

Page 127

i} “ = ~ ee — so - tage —_— — (Continued from Page 122) observers—to be coached in the eccentric- ities of his own craft. Policemen are quite unaware of their flat-footed walk and pecul- iar thrust of the head; nor are artists con- scious of the comical way they use their thumbs when viewing a picture exhibition. Undertakers are highly emotional actors when plying their trade, but their sad and lugubrious funeral etiquette is quite in- harmonious with their pinochle manners. Motor cops squint, and actors strut, while school-teachers speak with a timidity that suggests fear of an eavesdropping member of the board of education. The blasé non- chalance of the police reporter is in a violent contrast to the meek and lowly faith healer, and the osteopath and chiropractor, with professional enthusiasm, seem always to be undressing one with their eyes. I lived for a time in New York with two illustrators, and they were most alert in pic torial o bse rvations. ‘Look, Sam, see the way that woman’s gown hangs! Look! Look at the wrinkles. Aren’t they great!’’ And then they would both make eloquent gestures of flowing and harmonious lines. In a similar way character men go through life observing physical movements and attitudes. I could not sketch a prize fighter, yet I could imitate one perfectly, standing with feet apart and punctuating his quitely tense conversation with little gestures suggesting his aggressive calling. Suppose I am cast for a politician. The script will—or ought to—give me his num- ber. Is he one of these fellows of studied modesty and tremendous faith in his states- manship; or is he a glad-handing “friend of the people’”’? Perhaps he is a flamboyant spellbinder, whose personation of the states- man leaves one wondering if he does not sleep in his frock coat with his hand tucked in between the first and second buttons. The casting director of every studio has elaborate lists of men and women in every walk of life who may be called upon to type a certal n part. Athletes, business, colored, dancers, foreigners, swimmers, so- ciety, sailors, | lice, underworld, sinister, Western and valets are a few of the titles on index cards that fill drawer upon drawer. As I have said, it is artistically impossible for these people to provide much more than atmosphere, because of the difficulty of playing oneself. A sailor may imitate a colored waiter with the elemental mimicry of a child, but he will fail at stage seaman- ship, for his self-consciousness will kill his natural reactions. All for the Sake of Art No studio could possibly keep a whole army of extras from which to choose an occasional type, yet the fellow may be tre- mendously necessary when the time comes, and this led to queer complications with the work-or-fight order of the Government. As none of these men carried cards stating permanent employment, officials several times raided the studios and arrested them in droves, greatly to the embarrassment of the productions. The Government decided early in the war that the photoplay was an essential industry—since it entertained the soldiers and kept a war-weary world from brooding; and as a certain number of these men were essential to our work an arrangement was effected by which the various studios pre- pes a list of the men whom they most depended on, and these were given cards of exemption. It was perfectly amazing the number of men who were willing—yes, anxious—to sacrifice war and work upon the altar of art. Some four thousand sensi- tive souls heard the call of the elusive god- dess, but only four hundred were chosen. There is one type, however, entitled to be raised almost to the dignity of worms, for it often rouses at ioe ast a passing’ curiosity. This is the chap who is east in the physical likeness of greater men. In any cosmopolis man reproduces himself in his infinite va- riety, and in this vineyard of the Golden West is to be found the physical replica of every superego since the world began. The twelve apostles? We can produce any and tall on a moment’s notice, for a very modest wage. One barefoot ascetic who plys the highways of the city with hand- writ exhortations to “Get Right with God” has starred in some of our grandest allegories. As Los Angeles is the spiritual center of many unique esoteric cults there is not a prophet of the past or present but may be shown in person or perfect counter- feit upon the silver screen. THE SATURDAY Of Woodrow Wilson we have two. One, however, is convincing only in a sitting posture, for he lacks the altitude of our First Citizen. The other may address the House, but he must do so in profile, lest the shortness of his neck betray the substitu- tion. My native state has sent us Joe Cannon in the flesh, and T. R.is a bean farmer of Puente. J. P. Morgan has thus far re- frained from remarkable likeness, and Henry Ford con- sistently accepts five dollars as his daily wage—that is, if there is a call for ‘‘ Henry Ford”; at other times he attends his Red Minorcas. The doubtful glory of simulating ex- Emperor William was claimed by several; and as for Von Hindenburg, every fat man in the village believes he could qualify in that robust réle. Only this morning I heard the casting director turning down a great creature with a face like an anvil, very much as a housewife woulk 1 dismiss a ped iler. “No,” said he, “I’m afraid we won't be using any ~— nburgs again. If I need him, however, I'll let you know.” Students of psychology will be interested to examine the curious promptings of our most perfervid patriots to play the Teu- tonic monsters of the war. In this over- subscribed bailiwick there are no less than twelve Crown Princes who claim the strange distinction of looking more effete and de- generate than does Frederick William him- self. When it comes to the lesser great, cashing checks upon his | like Bryan, Bernstorff or Bolo, their types are legion. Of course these men can only attitudi- nize, for acting is not their forte. This brings to mind the question: Why is it harder to play straight than characteriza- tions? It is best answered by an example If ten men seated in a row were asked to be funny their self-consciousness would in- hibit such an explosion—but black their faces and we have a minstrel show. It is easy to imitate a negro, and the make-up is a perfect screen behind which to hide one’s ego. Nothing is simpler than to imi- tate the outward eccentricities of a yap, but it is difficult to interpret the soul of a saint with one’s own sinful personality. More Than Simple Mimicry In one case it is simply mimicry—an accomplishment of every schoolboy —in the other it is a psychological interpretation, requiring a deep understanding of the human heart. Ordinary character work is physical and simple; straight playing is psychological and complex. I said ordinary character work is simple and physical, but when added to the phys ical personation of the character the actor brings out the heart and soul—when the wrinkles are inside as well as out—we have a great artist. Warfield and Chaplin have thousands who imitate their externals even children do that—but no one can imitate human understanding; that is the possession of only the sensitive artist. We tried out a story last spring wherein the character man took the leading rdéle, but as the actor was unbeautiful and the role unlovely the picture failed miserably Artists, however, accorded it high praise as a profound exposition of the criminal mind—but it was not amusing. Once the drama was a religious ceremony enacted by priests and vestals; then it passed into art but now it has become—at least upon the screen—a mere amusement in whic h Myrt may learn the newest way of making movie love and Bert receive a romantic shot in the arm or enjoy the cataclysmic chase of a custard comedian. But let us see how much more than simple mimicry was necessary to play th classic failure. During the story’s unfold ment thefcharacter grows. In the first part he isa miserab le little bookkee per, stealing because he was Bs tting the worst of it; in the second he is refugee from justice, fur- tive and suspic hens and in the end we find him in prison awaiting electrocution for the murder of himself!—a cons sequence of hi having changed clothes with a floater he found in aswamp. Not at all a jolly tale. No wonder Myrt and Bert, who always wish to fade out on Ye Clinche Sentimen- tal, thought it was a horrid film. Well, anyway, when Torrance read the script he realized he had a real problem on his hands. “It’s easy to imitate the outside of the fellow, but what’s going on in his head? Do bookkeepers think while they are adding? What do they do with their leisure, and EVENING POST 125 wo Men Who Make Money They Sell Us Their Spare Hours Do you like up ?” ‘Are you paid enough money ? your work? How did you come These are three that field workers as soon as they show steady producing to take it questions we always ask our We asked Johnson and Orvis. In reply ability. CARL JOHNSON says: “Your continuous ads in The Post decided me to try your work, and I have never regretted the step. I find the orders just waiting for me. Averaging only an hour a day, I have made $65.00 in one month, which is considerably more per hour than my regular work pays me. If I were so situated Mr. Johnson easily earns $65.00 a month extra ” that I could, I'd give your work full time. VINCENT ORVIS says: “I started work with another publisher, but so Curtis publica- Now | always sell the Curtis publications whenever pos- many people said they wanted the tions that I began taking orders for you. sible because of the amount of the profits, and the non-clubbing policy of the Company which protects Mr. Orvis makes $10 to $15 a week in spare time Why Not You, Too? Scores of our representatives are enjoying the $25.00 to $75.00 a month extra they earn by acting locally for us in their spare time. The work is pleasant, for The Saturday Evening Post, The Ladies’ Home Journal and The Country Gentleman are popular everywhere. my earnings. I heartily enjoy the work.” The profits. are both liberal and permanent, for renewals pay the same as new subscriptions. as well as all Just clip the You can enjoy the work and the extra money these others. Let us tell you more about it coupon NOW. Se a The Curtis Publishing Company 821 Independence Square, Philadelphia, Pa. (4 itlemen | 1 like some extra morn i ad im mntere ed i the way John | and Orvis earned theirs Without obligating me, tell me all about it, please Nam Addre City State “FAUST INSTANT COFFEESTEA or the most delicious cup of coffee or tea, smecely put soluble powder in cup, add hot water and serve Made in a second— No Waste- Stodincanilt or Leaves—No Boiling or 5) Cooking — No Pots to clean. Send dealer's name and 40c. (foreign 40c.) aes 1 pag lirect of for coffee or tea by any jobt UST CHILE PowoER Until recently all IS A “DIFFERENT” SEASONING. Faust Instant Coffee (known “‘over there” You use it instead of pepper, spices et it's as U.S. Trench Coffee) a combination of all of the except salt. For salad dressings, meats, gravies, stews, soul was being shipped to our soldiers. there's nothing te so good. Sold by most dealers in 15c., 25c. and 1-Ib. cans If yourdealer hasn't it, send 20c. for 2-o#. can and Recipe Pamphlet prepared by Henry Dietz, famouse chef of historic Faust Café and Bevo Mill Dealers—Ask Your Jobber. Jobbers— Write Us. Cc. F. BLANKE TEA & COFFEE COMPANY, Saint Louis, Missouri Victory now en- ables us to again supply the public.

Page 128

126 Cotton inside— wool outside! fort with wool warmth, in a nearb kc desire d; will forward t i rder toda Joseph, Michigan, for THE SATURDAY

NEBRA inte that there are five autos owned to every / No other state can make such a showing PREPARE. for After the War Business by opening an oth e¢ or factory branc h in Omaha. New A BC Book containing and valuable information for the retailer and free on request is so wealthy families maps manufacturer wholesaler, business man, Chamber of Commerce Dept. 15 Omaha, Neb.

THE LILLEY SPIRAL LEGGING As now worn by our Army. All wool Cloth, fits anybody.

elastic one size OLD through Deal- ers everywhere or sent postpaid on re- ceipt of price: No.897E $975 per pair, net THE M. C. LILLEY & C0. Columbus, Ohio Mfrs. of Military Goods Write for Catalog 137 E

Moisten Yout Heat ‘bh wien HUMDIFIER BUDDINGTON Reid- Gawler Mis. Ce

’ ° . Doesn't Miss a Single Rat When you use “Rough On Rats” you use the surest method of exterminating this dangerous, destructive “Rough On Kats ee them ou in two or three t peot —<— the nights. Mix it with '

your secretary «

itand mail this ad comples ond | lk price S.

The Best Soldering Past the Work speeds up soldering work, redu and ures pertect ition leleee. goo ke it t« us just $320.00 to tell you thie. W i we spend the money if

we weren't is ready for you THE M. W. DUNTON CO. y Larsest makers of Soldering Paste in the World AY Providence, R.1.,U.S.A. of our tacts The proof

res sell t Fading Rats pur be Mo led fre e te y E. S. WELLS, Chemist Jersey City, N. J.

Free sooxs oNPATENTS 620 Woolworth Bidg.. NEW YORK

625 F Street, WASHINGTON, D. C. 64 BREEDS Most Profitable chickens, ducks, geese and turkeys. Choice, pure-bred, hardy northern raised. Fowls, eggs, incubators at low prices. America’s greatest poultry farm. 26 years in business. Valuable new 112 page Poultry Guide and Catalog free. Write today. R.F. NEUBERT Co.,Box 890, Mankato, Mina.

BANKING BY MAIL AT 4% INTEREST O matter how far you live from Cleveland you can open a Sav- ings Account at 4% compound interest with this bank —the Oldest Trust Company in Ohio. Send today for our booklet “M” explaining our system of receiving deposits by mail. THE CITIZENS SAN SS & TRUST co. onr1o CLEVELAND ass s OVER CAPITAL & SURPLUS $8,000,000 MILLION DOLLARS.

| ual wreck in a month’s time. EVENING POST what are their hopes and aspirations? I know the mind of a movie mummer, but a bookkeeper is new to me. Their salaries are a joke compared with wages, so they must have a secret grind; but what is it?”’ With these questions in mind Torrance spent six weeks associating with clerks and bookkeepers; meeting them at cafeterias, joining them at picture shows, and oc- casionally roughing it up at the beaches. Some were bovinely contented, some re- signed and others bitter. One of the most resentful, believing Torrance similarly dis- posed, opened up his heart in all its sordid misery and crookedness. Needless to say, the actor’s interpretation of the part was a revelation. In a similar way, by mixing with a few murderers under sentence of death, and reading voluminously the lives and records of famous criminals, he achieved an amaz- ing understanding of the workings of their minds. The critics said Torrance’s character work was one of the finest ery 4 that had ap- peared on the screen; but alas, who are the critics? Myrtle and Bertram didn’t care for it, for they are interested only in beauti- ful romance, thrilling adventure and ele- mental comedy. So strong is this human hunger for sheer beauty that homely women in real life suffer the same competition with the baby dolls that we character men do upon the screen, for be they ever so bright they know they haven't a look-in on the favor of the rooster’s attentions. So Torrance—like the rest of us—is al- most reconciled to his fate, knowing per- fectly well he will never draw one-tenth the salary of Bessie Flopit or Harry Le Grande. Bessie is a blond vacuum who would with difficulty fill the intellectual requirements of a cash girl, but she photographs like a million dollars, and can be directed in her attitudes; while Harry, whose head would split should he venture to think, can be made to prance through his part as though he had actual brains. Sut I'll say this for the pictures: Though we never hope to crowd the candy kids for popular approval we draw a larger wage than the dear old stage ever offered us. From three to five hundred dollars a week and for fifty-two weeks, with a permanent address !—is much better pay than in most professions. Our greatest quarrel is with the stinginess of the work. For weeks on end we are compelled to loaf, occasionally appearing in a small bit; and even when we are cast in important réles the stars howe all the work. Forty Wonderful Feet In two months of time Torrance made but forty feet of film, but what a forty feet it was! The heroine, in order to secure the freedom of her lover, exhibited to the lynch- ers some baby clothes, and they Take human hadn’t the heart to hang the pro- spective father; but when one of them dis- covered later the girl putting the clothes back on a doll a close-up of his face had to register a mixture of chagrin, indignation and amusement, and there was nobody in all filmland who could have done this with such consummate art as Torrance. That | forty feet of film cost the studio about two thousand dollars in salary—and it was | worth every cent of it. This brings up the immemorial question | whether an actor must feel the part he is playing. Sometimes these inquiries are embarrassing. I know a big he-husband of a poetess of passion who when asked if his wife felt her poems answered thus: ‘If she did I'd lock her in the ice house.”” The fact is, no audience is interested in what the actor feels; it is what he represents. And inci- dentally if he did actualiy suffer the emo- tions of his characters— whether they were alcoholic or sizzling love—he’d be a spirit- No, an actor must not actually cry, but he must under- stand the emotion he represents and, for the time, be in sympathy with it. They say the great Macready used to start a quarrel with a gas jet in his dressing room to work himself into a temporary | state of excitement before entering on a but that is no more than one cannot violent action; warming up for a foot race strike twelve instantly. A while ago I was cast for the part of a weak French king, and all the time I was waiting to go on I tried to assume the im- perialistic attitude of mind necessary to the character; and the effort cost me many | friends among the extras, who thought my kingship had gone to my head

January 25,1919 ‘Say, Bill,” I heard one of them say, a Me get this here mutt, Benton? He seems to think he’s a real kink, the way he struts round the lot lordin’ over us like we were imperial doormats. Look at him now, eatin’ a hunk of pie as though it had been brung him by the royal pie taster. Hell, these actors make me sick— always thinkin’ they’re the hot sports they’re actin’!” Well, you ask, if we think we are so much better than the starfish and the jells, why aren’t character men ever headlined? Why is it that we play third fiddle to Flopit and Le Grande? I have twoanswers: People like character work on the screen just as they like salad at a dinner, but they want it with the meat. True, they may go to the sweet shops and eat only dessert which is comedy — but salad is rarely served alone. Then again, it is possible to capitalize only three things—beauty, sympathy and fine comedy. Of the three, beauty—adorned or other- wise— has the greatest number of devotees. Sympathy Capitalized We have a few actors recognizing their fatal lack of beauty who have deliberately standardized characters for themselves that have elicited tremendous sympathies. This is particularly true of our galaxy of cowboy stars. I assure you there are lots of horses that many of them have never ridden, yet the fans believe they are the splendid and roman- tic figures they depict on the screen. One of the greatest hair-pants heroes—though in truth he is a fine man—was an old legiti- mate actor who adopted the cowboy rdéle because of its heroic possibilities; and though he is physically as plain as an old shoe he has won a great army of devotees because of the sympathy he creates. This same factor accounts for many of our greatest stage successes. Rip Van Winkle, The Music Master and the old man in Shore Acres for years held the hearts of the theatergoers. If one hasn’t beauty he must have sympathy; but what chance has the character man of the movies, who has no opportunity to standardize a sympa- thetic rdle; whose work is ever new? One week he is a Chinaman, the next a male vamp, and then perchance a degenerate millionaire. Besides the fact that the rdles may lack both beauty and sympathy the chances are the fans will not even recognize him as the same actor. No, my fellow sufferers, Fate has marked the cards against us. The better we do, the more we lose ourselves in our characterizations, the worse off we are. It’s a crool, crool world, and we ought to thank our stars that we are allowed to play on the same lot with our betters. Do we get any mail? Oh, a little. Our colleagues of the stage write us for jobs and occasionally a fan who likes our work—and not our irresistible beauty—will buck up our estheticism with a friendly boost; and once in a long, long while some neurotic soul will fall for one of our disreputable characters and will hand us the touch senti- mental. Dear old Rand received a letter last week that was not unlike astar’s. Init the lady said: ‘‘I have been a widow for twelve years and I feel my position keenly.” Perhaps the ice is breaking and even now a letter is on the way asking for a spirit photograph of my egg-shaped aura. After all I may seem to have justified the fellow whose estimate of an actor began this tale, for in the pictures at least there are tremendous successes by youngsters upon whose intelligence slender demands have been made’’— even presupposing they started with such an equipment. Yet in one respect this story will confuse the critic, for I have permitted other actors to occupy the stage for at least several para- graphs. There is one personal touch, however, I must add. You recall the dramatic preju- dice of my dear old Quaker parents? Well, these are things of the long ago. We are living together in Hollywood, and dad is the greatest fan in movieland. Besides which he has appeared several times when we wished to type a dear old parson. And most amazing of all, mother once rendered the part of an aged vampire that fairly took our breath away. Also, they have both developed opinions, one of whieh is that Stuart Benton—though classed with the worms—is the greatest and most neg- lected artist of the screen! “Stars? Bah! Why, Stuartcan .. .” etc. How fine it would be if the world could only see us through the eyes of our parents.

Page 129

THE SATURDAY EVENING POST “Home, Sweet Home” “Those boys didn’t know what retreat meant. And, pep! Say, every mother’s son charged as tho’ he was the whole American Army. It was the proudest moment of my life.’’ Our home bound boys will have a “Welcome” echoed a hundred million times. Bring out all the good things; the friendly, mellow Velvet—so rich in the flavor and mildness that only Nature’s two years’ ageing can give, and let their pipes whisper “HOME, SWEET HOME” to them. L99¢ tle Myers Tobacco CG. Write to Velvet Joe, 4241 Folsom Avenue, St. Louis, Mo., for his 1919 Almanac. He will send it FREE.

Page 130

128 THE SATURDAY EVENING POST January 25,1919 er ll Of all the military problems that con- fronted George Washington there was none greater than that of feeding his armies. Meat, the fighting man’s most impor- - tant ration then as now, was especially hard to obtain. Much of the time his soldiers had to depend for sustenance on what they could get by foraging. * * America’s job of meat supply, in the great war just ended, was a thousandfold bigger than Washington’s. It was a job of feeding not only our own huge forces ] here and abroad, but the Allied armies as well. America succeeded because she had at her command what Washington didn’t have—thousands of prosperous farms, and centralized large-scale organiza- tions like that of Swift & Company for the production and distribution of meat. How well America succeeded, how well SS i ———— If the great war had been fought in George Washington’s time her meat machinery stood the test, is evi- denced by a French military authority who not only said that France could not have held out without our support, but asserted that “the men over there in the French trenches are the best-fed men in Europe.” To give some idea of the immensity of the food problem — Swift & Company in one single month shipped 2,012 car- loads of provisions overseas, valued’ at $21,268,000. If America had been dependent on the meat supply methods of Washington’s time, or even of Civil War time, it is not difficult to imagine what would have happened. Speaking along this line, an American official said that it would have been a super-human task to gather and handle the meat necessary to feed the people dur- ing this great war if conditions had been the same as they were “during the Civil War, when the meat industry was scat- tered all over the country.” Swift & Company, U.S. A. Established 1868 A nation-wide organization owned by more than 23,000 stockholders Pore. eon - ee ~~ — -——

Page 131

Easy to Separate

Juicy

Keep Them Within Reach Note What 91 Doctors Say Here are some facts with regard to the feeding of children that all mothers ought to know: We lately asked 118 physicians to name the fruits they most often recom- mended for children. 91 named oranges as one of the best fruits for children from three to fifteen years of age. 50 of this number mentioned only oranges. 107 named oranges for children under 3 years of age, 93 of these physicians referring only to this fruit. Dr. L. Emmett Holt’s Opinion Dr. L. Emmett Holt, the famous child specialist, in his book, The Care and Feeding of Children, says, ‘Some fruit should be given to most healthy children every day. . Oranges, baked apples and stewed prunes are most to be depended upon. . . . The best fruit juice is that of the orange, which should be fresh and sweet.”” Such comments as these are important to remember when you purchase your family’s daily food. Oranges Plentiful Now Now oranges are again plentiful — California having this year produced a crop of almost normal size. That means twice as many oranges as were shipped from California last year when a period of severe heat destroyed two-thirds of the crop. It is estimated that this year’s California crop will total 14,000,000 boxes, so there will be enough for everyone everywhere—and at reasonable prices. So keep a bowl full of oranges in your dining room—it adds to the room's cheeriness, and keeps this healthful fruit within easy reach. That's as it should be, because a fruit so good should be constantly suggested. Sunkist

. ' ; Uniformly Good Oranges Alice Bradley’s Book Sent Free Sunkist are California's uniformly good oranges. They are easiest . ac to peel, easiest to segment, and easiest to slice because they are meaty, Send for our book : Sunkist Rec firm and practically seedless 1pe ntaining more than 200 recipes, They are luscious, juicy, sweet; and easy to prepare in delicious tested and prov Alice Bradley. desserts and zestful salads. M Bradl is principal of Mis Oranges are just as good for grown-ups as for children, Farmer’s School of Cookery, Boston, so use them often in these ways a Mass., and she tells in this book how : . . ad se daeian “aindniek <aenih Meanie aac al California Fruit Growers Exchange i most attractive w . A post card A Non-profit, Co-operative Organization of 8,500 Growers “ brings it to you free. Send for your Dept. E-61, Los Angeles, Cal. “i, . E-6l.

Best for Slicing Practically Seedless

Oranges and Coconut— Nothing Else

Page 132

Quickly Easily Cleaned Hy gienicall : i RO and all Metal (Gere) .¢) ng Utensils ~~ ~~ —™ 4 f