ON FLOSSIE'S ADVICE. Sn “Yes,” said young Mrs. Tomlinsor as she poured a glassful of water intc . a shallow bowl filled with blooming bulbs, “they did bloom at last and’ they are pretty. But don't you eve: let any one tell you what Flossie téid me about them, for it isn't true.” “Chinese lilies or narcissus?” asked her visitor, as she slipped off her pin less hat and warmed her blue tipped fingers against the tea cozy, all set for gentle brewing. “I'm sure I don't know. 1 bought both kinds of bulbs and they got mixed, and now ewery bowl has some flowers with yellow centers and some that are white and everybody tells me a different story about which is which But that doesn’t matter nearly sc much as the rest of it.” Young Mrs. Tomlinson sank into her wicker chair and began to arrange the delicate tea cups, and after that she uncovered a pile of cheese sandwiches, “It is all lovely,” exclaimed her friend. “All—tea, cheese, sandwiches | and flowers. I am cold and hungry, 80 hurry the tea, and do tell me what Flossie said that wasn't true.” “None of it was true—about the bulbs,” declared young Mrs. Tomlin. son, sternly. “And she started me on them, you know. She was here dast summer when we gave our rubber plant to Aunt Sophie because Harry said it was too big to live with and fussed so about it. I was sorry to see it go, for it was the only thing I ever made grow, and I have spent a for tune on ferns and various kinds of | plants. They die the minute I touch them. So Flossie suggested bulbs. They were quite cheap, she told me. “Just get some cheap, plain glass bowls,’ said Flossie, ‘and you can gather enough pebbles this summer to fill them. Then get the bulbs—at 25 | cents a dozen—and you have flowers’ for the entire winter. Plant them two weeks apart and then keep them in| the dark for two weeks. In six weeks | they bloom and you can keep taking out your bowls as the old flowers die.’ | Tt sounded delightful, so I decided to| try it. “That was in July. We were going north for the rest of the summer, so I just made a note of it and watched for pebbles. Whenever we were in swimming or were walking by the|’ lake I made everybody pick up peb- |: bles for me. Harry said his pockets were full of stones all summer long, and he got awfully mad once because I emptied the cigars out of a new cigar box to put stones in, though 1 covered up the cigars and they weren't hurt a bit. “I brought back four boxes of stones —perfect beauties, blue and white and yellow and pink. Then I began to look up bowls. Flossie said the bowls would cost almost nothing at all, and I began to look for plain glass bowls. The cheap ones were dreadful pressed glass things and the only pretty ones were $1 each, so I got two of those and then looked at pottery bowls. Harry says that there's where 1 lost my head, but I looked on the bowls as an investment. And I got some beauties. They cost more than the others, but I thought they were worth the money, and the Japanese clerk was such a dear about choosing them. “Then I got the bulbs. And instead of costing 20 cents a dozen they were three for a quarter. Flossie said | went to the wrong place, but [ didn’t know that, and I had bought six bowls, so I had to have plenty of bulbs. “About October 1 I began to set them out so they would begin bloom- ing about November 15. I never have got over this part of it. Harry has always given his cigar boxes to a neighbor boy and he came over to play in our basement one day and found my pebbles in those boxes and threw them all into the alley! “Harry wasn't at all sympathetic. He simply refused to go and gather more pebbles by the lake, which he might have done to save expense, and so I had to go back to the bulb store and buy little ugly, commonplace stones for ten cents a quart, Harry found it before it was a week old and spilled it all over the silk my bulb ambitions. “That bow! was broken, and of course it was the nicest, and the tender sprouts were harmed, so to begin again. I took all out of the closet and had put up some shelves, and it much and was a splendid bulbs, “But all winter Harry he hasn’t been able to in its proper He a bit aft Tt £5 i : i f : : E i if on, for there are only the buy. “If you ever want to try them, cone to me, or ask Harry. We know. Do have another sandwich.” —It istjust as easy to ruin calves by over-feeding as’it is by starving. § JOYOUS SUMMER BY THE SEASHORE ————— ' Hanscombe Proved to Be a Good Captain in Rough Weather. By LOUISE MERRIFIELD. (Copyright, 1912, by Associated Literary Press.) For one moment Hanscombe lost his | head. “It's been a joyous summer, girlie, and there's another one ahead of us. I'll try to come back.” He was lying full length at her feet on the shore. Nan hardly noticed | him. Her face was turned down to | ward the point. Something of the sunset glory seemed to linger on its | girlish contour, but her eyes were full | of latent mischief. “It's so nice of you even to promise | that, Mr. Hanscombe,” she murmured, | “Mother'll be glad.” “Won't you?" “l won't be here.” Hanscombe sat up. “Not if I should ask you to be here?” Nan laughed and bit her lip. “You always seem like a funny, | overgrown boy to me when you to be earnest.” “I'm not trying, Nan, You've | known all along just what meant.” “It's a good thing for me that I} have,” laughed Nan. “Oh, don't pro-| test, now, and try to make good at | the last minute. You don't have to with me. You came down here with | Hal—" “He told me about you before I came, and that's why.” “He's awfully prejudiced.” Hanscombe kicked a bit of drift. wood half buried in the sand, and frowned. Fate was leading him into a ' snare. He knew when he reached the danger point, and always moved along at the right moment. He didn't want to marry any girl. He had come to Paint of Pines purely out of curi- osity to see Pan Phillips because Hal had sald she was the “bulliest” girl in the world. Across the bay he could see the white spot of the tents even in the deepening twilight. To-morrow he | would be on the train bound for the west. And Hal would be over there in the tent, with Nan in the cottage up in the pines, only a few hundred yards away. “Won't you miss me a bit, Nan?” “Lots.” Nan's tone was perfectly matter of fact. “You're a dandy bass catcher.” “I can't seem to catch anything else,” sald Hanscombe cheerlessly. “What's the matter with me, Nan?” “Matter? How?" gullelessly, “Don't you like me?” “Very much. So does mother.” “Are you sorry you kissed me?” Once She Turned 23d Looked Out to Sea. ; savagely as a last chance at stirring up emotion, “Which time?” “Have you got them all tabulated for future reference? Nan, didn't you care at all?” “Yes, I almost think I did.” For the first time Nan's voice was a little unsteady. She still watched the far- off point jutting out like a long nose into the sea. “But I don't care now. 1 suppose that's the last test, isn't it? When you know that everything is going to end, and you just don’t care?” “Would you go with me?’ Hans- combe’s face was a study in con- flicting impressions. It was not an invitation he gave, merely one of his speculative flyers in love, and Nan knew it. She laughed, and shook her head, “It would be a pretty hard sen- i{ence, wouldn't it? For both of us? No, thank you, kind sir, not to- Hanscombe studied her for a min ute in silence. He did not know this mood. Vaguely he realized that Nan was, as the boys would call fit, “kiddin’ him.” It was not pleasant to be a 6-foot,170-pound halfback and be “kidded,” especially by the girl he had been gracefully trying to depart from without breaking her heart. Watching the little reddish curls that snuggled against the tanned throat, he wondered what the next ten #in- utes held for him. All at once he knew that Nan Phillips held his heart and future very neatly bal anced on her strong little pink palm And there was Hal “You see, Bob, you're nice to have around—" I've | “Like a hammock or cake of ce” | growled Hanscombe. “Go on.” | “But I don't believe you'd make a good captain in rough weather, and we get a lot of that sort through life, i {don't you know it? You're a goof i pal to talk to, and all that, but—" She stopped suddenly and stood up. He saw in a moment what had | happened. Drifting rapidly out to ithe open sea was their motor boal. A couple of miles across the bay was the little summer camp on the | point. And they were on an island | in midchannel, with no chance of & | steamer passing before the city boa: | tn the morning. Hanscombe kicked | off his shoes. | “You're not | swi mafter it?" | eredulously. “I'm going to the point,” he re- torted deliberately. “I'll get ‘dal's boat and come after you. Don't get rattled now. I won't be long.” | “There are cross currents out there—" “So there are here,” he sald, | grimly. “Better take my match- | box and get some driftwood togeth¢ | er for a fire in case I give out. Hal | will see it, and know there's trouble. Goodby.” “Why don't you we aren't missed?" “Just to show | weather captain, | laughed. - “Rustle wood, mate. swimming gear.” Slowly she turned and went over the winding shore, through the little path of sword grass and white clover. Once, at the top of a hum- mock, she turned and looked out to sea. It was a shadowy violet haze, His head looked like brown going to try ané Nan demanded in- wait and see if I can be u rough I guess’ after the drift from the shreo. Nan watched it wita keen, half-closed eyes until it dis- appeared, the little silver matchbox pressed to her cheek unconsciously, All her life she had lived at the Point. She knew every swirling cur- rent out in midstream beyond the island. Night after night she had ing that marked the steamer channel. And now Hanscombe, careless, in-| dolent, city-bred Hanscombe, was out there fighting the sea just to make good in her eyes that he was no coward, She gathered the driftwood into a hedp, and set fire to it, not to warn Hal, but to give some cheer to the man out in the water in the darkness. She knew in her heart she had cared for him from his first few days at the Point. Hal was dear, but he was just a big brother. The very faults of Hanscombe made her indignant against him because she reasoned he was too idle to put up his own good fight with fate and fortune. And she had made up her mind to let him £9. Once she put her hands to her lips and called him to come back, but there was no answer, and as the night closed in, she sat on one of the tall sand dunes, her face buried on her arms and sobbing until sud- denly she felt Hanscombe's arms close about her, “Dear, don't do that,” he said with a new, masterful touch in his tone. “Hal started after us—saw the fire, I think. When I caught sight of his boat pulling out, I turned and came back. What's the matter?” Nan kept her face hidden against his cheek. “Why didn’t you come right away?” “I had to dress and put out the fire so it wouldn't spread in this wind, Nan?" He forced her to face him there in the semi-darkness. “Nan, you didn’t care a rap, did you, on the level, whether I came back or not?” Nan hesitated, and whispered very goftly. “I didn't want the ship left without 8 captain.” The Finish Fight, Maurice Maeterlinck, the Belgian roet, playwright and philosopher, is to box for charity's sake in Paris. A Chicagoan said of this the other day: “Maeterlinck is robust. He should box well. I have often met him on the Riviera. He hes a villa at Grasse, and he spends the whole winter exer- eising out of doors in the Quzzling Riviera sunshine, “He talks excellent English, and ot a luncheon at the Grand hotel in Grasse I once heard an American girl ask him: “‘] see that pugilists fight in a ring. What kind of a ring is it, Mr. Maeterlinck? You are an athlete, and ro you ought to know.’ “The poet, pushing back his thick, Depperan d-salt hair, smiled and re Pp : “‘In the ordinary sparring match, limited to seven or eight rounds, an ordinary ring is used, but when it's a fight to a finish they always employ a wedding ring.” ‘The Aeroplane’s Record. Though still an “enfant terrible,” the aeroplane has achieved excellent records. It has attained a speed of 104 miles an hour in a closed circuit, has flown nearly 14,000 feet high and has carried 13 passengers at once, thelr weight aggregating 1,440 pounds. It has flown through storm clouds, over mountains, seas and continents. Jt has voyaged by compass over in- hospitable routes, from city to city, faster than the eagle or the railway lo- comotive.—Popular Mechanics, Hubby Was Stingy. “Hubby, we must give a reception.” “It will cost too much.” “Oh, no. 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