Bellefonte, Pa,, January 24, 1930,
THAT OLD SWEETHEART OF
Stella Crane had a maid, but pre-
ferred answering the telephone her-
self when she was at home, which
was most of the time. Calls came
infrequently and were welcome—an
invitation to go to the theatre with
the Smalls or to play bridge at Bess
Cooper’s, or to dine with the Fields.
Aside from two or three of her hus-
band’s business acquaintances, whom
he had had at the house for evening
conferences, the Fields, Smalls and
Coopers were about the only people
in New York Stella had met.
There was nothing wrong with
her or Ralph; they both dressed
well and behaved respectably, and
Stella played a fair game of con-
tract. But they were not asked
out much because Ralph, a patent
lawyer, did a great deal of work
after hours and was anything but
hospitable, If you refrain from in-
viting people to your house, they
are going to invite you less and less
often to “theirs.
It was hard on Stella, whose life
in the city was not what she had ex-
pected. Her husband realized this
and deluded himself and her with
the promise that in the near fu-
ture he would be able to afford more
leisure, and then they'd repay their
social indebtedness and make lots of
new friends, and Stella would have
no cause to complain of loneliness
and boredom,
She answered the telephone be-
cause the maid had a tendency to
confuse names as similar as Gillespie
and Hammond; and on this particu-
lar morning, the vaguely familiar
voice at the other end of the wire
began the conversation with the in-
triguing challenge. I'll bet you
don’t know who this is.” |
~ “You sound like somebody,” said
Stella. “Just give me a second to
think. I do know. Isn't it Will?”
“You win!
remember me after all these years.” |
“Td have recognized you sooner if
I had thought there was any possi-
. bility of your being here.”
get here, but I made it.”
“And how long do you expect to T
stay?” |
“Not more than a day or two. |
It’s just a business trip.”
“Well, tell me something about
yourself. . Are you married?’
“Not yet.”
“I thought I'd have heard if you
were,” said Stella,
“I guess you knew I wouldn't be.” !
“Why ?” :
“I don’t have to tell you that.”
“Oh, Will! You're the same old
win!”
“I wish I was.”
“I'd like to see you.”
“It’s perfectly mutual.’ .
“I'd ask you to dinner, but Ralph's them for a while;
in Washington and won't be home Saafice to miss me.
{ back for
till day after tomorrw.’
I had no idea you'd That’
<a
A,
Fields, Coopers or Smalls had re-
lated a rough story or joke which
she hadn’t understood or liked or
listened to.
Of course she was not conscious
of this or of the difference in her
eyes. She felt she could still arouse
a man’s interest, particularly the
interest of a man who hinted that
he had remained single because he
could not have her,
Will was more than a little ex-
cited. There had heen fifty girls
and women in his life since Stella
had gone out of it, but none who .
had been able to hold him, none
who had seemed as desirable as his
sweetheart of fifteen years ag:
0,
He believed she had still cared a
great deal for him when she mar-
ried Crane, and he believed that a
woman who had cared for him once
never could get entirely over it.
Look at Fannie Towns, and Ma;
Judson and most of the others, 1
he had to do was to whistle and
they would come back.
Now he was going to meet the
only one he had ever really loved
and wanted. She had. been easily
persuaded to see him, and her
husband was out of town, The
day would not end with the matinee.
He called up Endicott 9546. ‘Bet-
ty? This is Will again. Say, I'm
sorry about tonight, but I just had
a wire from Charlie Prince, from
Buffalo, He's getting in at seven
o'clock and wants me to meet him
and stick around with him all even-
ing. No, it’s business; I can’t get
out of it. I'll call you tomorrow,
and meanwhile don’t forget me.”
He and Stella had no trouble
identifying each other.
diately noted her plumpness, but
was glad it was no worse. He ob-
served too, the new smile, but
charged it to embarrassment, Stel-
la saw that his hair was thin and
his face bore the marks of dissipa-
tion. Otherwise, he was the same
old Will,
He said they had plenty of time
and she must order something spe-
cial to celebrate the occasion.
“I don't feel like eating,” said
Stella. “I just want to talk and
hear you talk.”
“And I just want to look at you,
s feast enough for me.”
But the waiter was hovering, and
to get rid of him they had to make
“Well, it took me a long time to | win: haven't changed a bit,” said
11, after ordering.
“I've changed more than you have.
m heavier,”
“Very little, And look at my hair,
or what's left of it.”
“I don’t think y:a've lost much—
not much.”
“I'm not worrying about it, any-
way,” said Will, who worried about it
a great deal. “It’s too late for me
to care whether I'm handsome or
not.”
“I think you're just as handsome
as ever.”
“That’s all that matters.”
“But I want to hear about you,
Will. Are you still with Boyer?”
‘I'm back with Boyer. I quit
gave them a
They hired me
fifteen thousand a year,
“I'm not crazy about seeing Ralph.” . five thousand more than my old con-
“I know, but—”
“Can't two old friends like us get |
together and talk? I'm not inviting
myself to your place,
| tract.” i
Fifteen thousand a year was big
| ’
| money in Will's eyes;
but I wish thousand more than he was getting,
it was three
you'd have lunch with me, and we "and he didn’t relish Stella’s com-
could go to a matinee.”
“It sounds wonderful !” said Stel-
la. “Let me think”
i a bachelor
' ment.
“That ought to be plenty for you,
with no responsibilities.
Fifteen years ago, Ralph and Will If you were married and living in a
had been rivals for
her love;
exactly her love
either,
not | Place
for Will makes nearly thirty thousand and
like New York—well Ralph
had won that before Ralph appear- We aren't able to save much. We
ed on the scene. and though
“new” and persistent, and
because he was capable of support-
she ' don’t spend much either, but it goes.
had married Ralph, because he was Food and clothes
chiefly A thing’s so frightfully
and rent—every-
high.”
It didn’t occur to Will that she
ing a wife, she had never been quite | might have overestimated Ralph's
sure that she was as fond of him income as he had his own, and he!
ag of Will
Since she had become Mrs.
she had not been alone with any
man except her husband, her den-' “I got tickets for ‘Journey's End.”
tist and the elevator operators in! “Oh you'll love it,” said Stella af-
various buildings in which she had ter the briefest of pauses. ‘Every- |
was not interested
in the cost of
Crane, | New York living. He changed the
‘su
|
ject.
lived. Ralph was not of a jealous ! body's mad about it, especially the
disposition; she thought he wasn’t men.”
anyway, She had never given him |
cause to feel jealousy, so she
couldn’t be sure,
~ She had heard him comment on
“You haven't seen it, have you?”
“Yes I have, but I don’t mind a
“You told me
you hadn't seen
wives who “went around” with oth- anything.”
er men and had gathered that he |
disapproved of them, but surely he thought you
“I didn’t think you'd pick it out. I.
liked musical shows.
wouldn’t find fault with her even if r But it honestly doesn’t make any
the man happened to be an old difference,”
flame and his former rival. Besides,
how would he know?
lonely.
' “Why, yes, Will
be all right.”
“That a girl! Tl call for youat
a quarter of one.”
“That won't be necessary,” said
Stella, thinking of the maid. “I'll
I guess it will
‘wouldn't have you miss it for
meet you at one, wherever you say.”
“You name the place. Remember,
I'm a yokel.”
“It does, too. I'm going to see if
And shewas I can’t get something else,”
“Please, Will don’t! For one
thing, it’s late and I swear I'd just
‘as soon see this again. If it wasn’t
so good, I'd let you change. El)
e
world. There's no girl in it and it's
a war play and probably more in-
teresting to men than women. but I
don’t care.” :
“I do. Let me see if I can’t get
“Well, the Biltmore, in the lobby, something for “Follow Thru. ”
if that suits you.”
“Any place suits me,
more lobby, then.”
“But have you
Will I know you?”
“I'll, wear shoes.”
The Bilt-
changed much?
+ “Oh, Will! You're the same old
will!”
“What show would you like to
see today?”
“Oh, anything. I haven't been to
one for months.”
“All right TI use my own
judgment, One o'clock, then, atthe
Biltmore.”
“Goody-by.”
“Good-by.”
“Good-by, dear.”
Stella’s heart skipped a beat,
That “dear” didn’t sound like old
friends. It didn’t sound safe, and
she knew she was glad he had said
it.
She dressed carefully and spent
a long time in front of her mirror.
Tt told her that although she had
changed a lot since twetny-four, her
age when she and Will parted, she
certainly did not look thirty-nine,
not within four or five years of it.
Her face was unlined and her fig-
ure still good almost youthful, she
thought, despite the ten or twelve
pounds she had taken on as Mrs.
Crane, There was not the same
sparkle in her eyes, perhaps and
her smile was less engaging, more Ritz
artificial: it was a smile she had
cultivated for use
hy know they'd be sold out.
“Oh, they say that’s wonderful, but
And I
really want to see ‘Journey's End’
again; I may get more out of it the
second time.”
“I wish you'd told me. Maybe we
can go to ‘Follow Thru” tonight.”
“Don’t let's talk about it any more. '
Let's talk about you.”
“That won't be very interesting.”
“It will to me. I want to hear all
about your business affairs and your
love affairs. and everything.”
“Well,” said Will, “I’ve done pret-
ty well in business; that is, for me,
Nothing like Ralph, I suppose, but
I'm satisfieG. As for love affairs
you ought to know as much about
that as I do.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean T haven't had any since
you.”
Now this was the sort of conver-
sation that appealed to Stella and
would have kept her in her most at-
tractive role that of an interested al-
most mute audience. Unfortunate-
ly the waiter arrived with food and
Will was diverted from his “line.” his
apoetite for victuals being the one
thing powerful enough to make him
forget Romance.
“These scallops are great!” he
said. “Don’t vou like scallops?”
“Yes, indeed! T often order them.
Y love the way they fix them at the
“Ts the Ritz a better place to
when one of the eat?”
Will imme- |
srs a re r—r
“I don’t know, I guess they're
about the same, only the Ritz is
more expensive. Maybé it isn’t either
but you think of it as moreéxpen-
sive. That's why I )
meeting you there."”. s :
“Listen; Fm*-Hotl a rl
“Of course not, Will Just the
same, I'd feel guilty if you spent
more on me than you can afford.”
“A man making fifteen thousand a
year——"
Stella laughed, ‘You're the same
old Will! You talk like a millionaire.
Why, the men I know, Ralph's
friends
en a bigger income than Ralph, you
i don’t see them spending five or six
dollars on lunch. They appreciate
the value of money, and that’s what
you never did, Will. I hate stingy
people, but there's a big difference
between stinginess and thrifty ones
who get along in ais world.”
Will could not boast that he was
thrifty, but he did think he had got
along and Sella’s theory that he
hadn’t would have made him pretty
mad if the food had been short of
delicious.
“You didn’t answer my question,”
said Stella at length,
“What question?” :
“I asked about your love affairs.”
“I told you I hadn't any since you
ditched me.”
“Don’t say I ‘ditched you, Will. It
was just—well, I liked Ralph a lot
and he was serious, and marrying
him meant getting away from that
deadly place, And you must admit
you couldn't have married anybody
in those days. I did care for you,
Will, I still do—"
She stopped as if in embarrass-
ment. She hoped he would sustain
the sentimental note and his next
remark sounded encouraging.
“Not “like yoir used ane
“How do you know ?” she said soft-
“What >
“I won't repeat it.”
“I wish you would.”
“No. I musn’t.”
Will was too intent on his spum-
oni to insist.
“It will be dark in the theatre’ he
thought, “I'll hold her hand and see
how she takes it.”
“It will be dark in the theatre,”
thought Stella, “and maybe he'll call
me ‘dear’ again.”
Her lecture on economy cost the
waiter fifty cents, Will giving him
half a dollar instead of a whole one
as he had planned. He could not
help regarding her as a bit incon-
sistent when she vetoed his sugges-
tion that they walk to the Henry
| Miller, only four blocks away,
{ “I'm frightfully lazy,” she said,
not mentioning the fact that her
shoes hurt.
i “All right,” said Will, “but if
you're going to let me buy a taxi,
you've got to let me take you to
dinner at the Ritz”
| © “I couldn’t think of it!” said Stel-
|la. “For one thing, I'd be sure to
| see somebody I know. And haven't
you business to attend to, people to
look up? I musn’t take too much
of your time.”
“I'll postpone business
gets back.” _
“I can’t decide just now.”
“You want to be sure you like me.”
“It isn’t that. You may know I
like you. But there are things to
be considered.” v
The seats were in the twelfth row
“These are rotten seats!” said
{ Will.
“You can’t get good ones at the
box office.”
“I got these at my hotel”
“Well, they're } right. ' You
musn’t worry on my account. I
; told you I'd seen it before. We had
the fourth row that night, right in
. the center, just perfect. Herb Small
' got them through the University
Club. He always gets grand seats.”
The curtain rose.
| “This is the British front, in the
war,” explained Stella. “It’s what
they call a dugout, where the officers
, stay. The whole three acts all take
- place in one scene,
| “That officer, that lieutenant or
whatever he is’ she continued, “he’s
i a school teacher in England, I mean
he was, before the war. He gets
killed later on. It's a terribly de-
| pressing play. Lillian Fields cried
the night we saw it.”
A customer in the eleventh
turned around and gave Stella a nas-
ty look after which she whispered,
| “This young boy he’s a new offi-
| cer, he hasn't been at the front be-
fore; at least not at this front. He's
been transferred or something And
the hero, the captain, is in love with
the boy’s sister. i
! “Not this captain, I don’t mean,”
she went on. “The other captain,
the leading man, takes this one’s
place. He gets mad when he sees
his sweetheart’s brother, He doesn’t
want anybody that he knows around
pr
ly
till Ralph
course he’s afraid people will find
, it out, especially his girl.”
! The man in front of them turned
round again and said “Ssh!” in none
too friendly a manner, Stella thought
he must be ssh-ing someone else.
| “The only way he can ‘carry on’
as they call it, is by drinking, so he
"drinks hard all the time.”
“That man wants us to quit talk-
ing © said Will, and congratulated
himself on the diplomatic plural.
“It’s somebody back of us he's
complaining of,” said Stella. “Now
when the other captain comes in
vou notice him, notice how big he
looks. And they say he isn’t really
big at all; T mean, off the stage.
Some friends of ours the Coopers,
they met him at a party and they
{say he’s not nearly as big as he
looks. He wears some kind of shoes
or something that make him look
big: T mean. on the stage. You no-
tice when he comes in”
The theatre was dark but Will
seemed to have forgotten the hand-
holding test.
‘““The hero the captain, the man
that’s in love with the young boy’s
sister. he went to the same school
the voung bov went to and he was
the idol of the school. The hov. the
eirPs brother worships him. Of
course he doesn’t know he’s a cow-
ard and drinks to hide fit.
“That other officer there. that
voune one he’s a coward. too. and
he pretends he's sick so they'll send
. Him awav from the front. But the
| hero threatens to kill him unless he
and mine, men who make ev-
quits pretending he's sick. He
points a revolver right at him and
sa
Ydoest’t “buck. up.’ :
“I was freightend to
- really’ would. shoot him, the night, I
saw. it.: I’ don't’ like that part of it
at all, and it hasn't anything to do
with the rest of the play. but the
play would have been too short
without it, It's awfully short as it
is. It doesn't begin till nearly nine;
I mean, at night, and it’s over about
half past ten; that’s half past four
for a matinee.” :
Will wished he had brought a box
of molasses :
Here's the real captain now, the
hero. See how big he looks? And
he really isn't big at all off the
stage. He's mad at the girl's moth-
er being there, After a while the
brother writes a letter to his sister
and the captain is afraid he'll tell
her about his drinkng and so forth.
So he wants to the letter and
the boy doesn’t want him to, but he
says he has a right to censor all
mail. Finally the school teacher
reads the letter out loud and it’s so
complimentary to the captain that
bes avhamed of having made him
read it,
“Isn't the sergeant funny? I
guess he’s a sergeant. It makes
you laugh just to look at him.
They're all English the whole com-
pany. I think there are other com-
panies playing it put West or some-
where, and they're all English, too.
And it’s going to be a picture, a
talking picture. Do you like talking
pictures ?”
“No,” said Will. *Or people.”
“After a while the colonel comes
in and tells the captain . that they
want to find out who the Germans
are in the trench facing them; that
is, the number of ‘the German regi-
ment or something, I don’t see what
difference it makes as long as
they're Germans but Ralph says
they always want to know so they
can figure out the distribution of
the German troops, how they're dis-
tributed. So the captain has to send
some men over to the German
trenches, across No Man's Land, and
‘they're supposed to capture a Ger-
man prisoner and bring him back
and then they'll know what regiment
is facing them,
“The captain hates to send any:
body because it’s almost sure death,
but he’s got to obey orders. He
sends the young boy, the brother,
the girl’s brother, and that school
teacher and the young boy gets a
prisoner and the school teacher gets
killed.
“The funny thing about it is that
you kind of wish it was the boy that
got killed in place of the school
teacher. But the boy gets killed la-
ter,
“Of course they know what it
means to do it and the boy is terri-
bly nervous, but still he’s glad of a
chance “to do something important,
He and the school teacher recite
‘Alice in Wonderland’ before they
go; not all of it; just quotations
from it so as not to think of what's
befre them. That's the school teach.
er's way of keeping his mind off
danger. Inste ad,of drinking, like the
captain. © © bo
“You wait till you see how the
captain: drinks. - It -must be colored
water or téa- or something. If it
were real whisky ~he’d fall off the
stage. It can’t even be tea or he'd
get sick. Do you drink much Will?”
' “I've been on the wagon,” said
Will, “but I think I'm going to fall
off tonight; maybe this afternoon.”
“Why ?”
“I don’t know. I just feel like ft.”
“I wish you wouldn't, You used
to get so silly when you drank.”
“I still do.”
“But you were kind of funny and
amusing, too, And then you usually
got very affectionate.”
1 “I'm different now.
first; not funny at all
brutal and want to fight people,
I get silly at
whoever is with me, my best friends, in
even girls.”
“You don't mean really fight
them? =
“Yes, I do, The reason why I got
on
a girl, a girl I cared quite a lot for;
we went on a party and I had
! about four drinks, and for no reason
and knocked her down. It’s whoever
.he’ll shoot him. dead-if-he,
death that he .
ried to his hotel where he immedi-
ately called Endicott 9546.
“Betty? =*Siy, I-just had another
wire from Charlie Prince, He was
out a bearing... at:
can’t get here till
haven't made another date have
you? That a girl!”"—Hearst's Inter-
national Cosmopolitan. ’
REAL ESTATE TRANSFERS.
Trustees of I. O. O. F. 1032, to
State College I. O. O. F. Hall Asso,
tract in State College; $2,000.
Anna Funk, et bar, to Jacob
Shearer, et ux, tractin Centre Hall;
$4,000.
Sarah Vonada et bar,
Corman, et al, tract
Twp.; $1.
John Francies, et ux, to Com-
monwealth of Pennsylvania, tract in
Benner Twp.; $1,700.
Frank L. Baird, et ux, to Marga-
ret B. Haupt, tract in Milesburg;
$1,
W. C. Krader, Adm., to F. P.
Royer, tract in Haines Twp.; $600.
to D. PF
in Haines
Albert Dean, et ux, to John Dean,’
tract in Patton Twp.; $1.
John . Dean, et ux, to Leah J.
Dean, tract in Patton Twp.; $1.
Harry A. Corman, et ux, to
James A. Fox, tract in Spring
Twp.; $175,
Robert T. Hafer, et ux,
bert Ross Glenn, et ux,
State College; $11,200.
A. C. Shank, et ux, to D. G. La
France, tract in State College; $1,-
000,
Pine Grove Cemetery Asso, to J.
W. Peters, tract in Ferguson Twp.;
$25. :
Jacob Cramer to Elmira Guiser,
tract in Ferguson Twp.; $1.
Evan Jones, et ux, to James E,
Pomeroy, et ux, tract in Philips-
burg; $1.
Ella M., Bottorf to W. R. Shope,
tract in College Twp.; $1.
Earl H. Peck, et al, to Harry C.
Showers, et ux, tract in Walker
to Her-
tract in
‘Twp; SL
Susanna Ishler to Della A. Ishler,
tract in Harris Twp.; $1,
Susanna Ishler to W. E. Homan,
tract in Harris Twp,; $2700.
George M. Glenn to Thomas M.
Huey, tract in Patton Twp,; $125.
Viola ‘Gunsallus, et bar, to John
W. Houck, tract in Halfmoon
Twp.; $310.
Bellefonte Trust company, Exec,
to Bond M. Hartsock, tract in Patton
Twp.; $5150.
E. R. Hancock, Adm. to Charles
E. Houtz, tract in Unionville; $920,
Harry A. Folmer; et ux, to W. B.
Rankin, tract in Bellefonte; $1.
W. B. Rankin to Harry A, Fol-
mer, et ux, tract in Bellefonte; $1.
Fannie E. Borger, et bar, te Earl
R. Bordner, et ux, tract in Fergu-
son Twp.; $6.500.
D. C. Kustenbauter,
Edgar G. Kustenbauter,
Spring Twp.; $1.
et to
in
ux,
tract
...Edggr G. Kustenbauter, et ux, to
|
I
row at all I socked her in the mouth
{
{
D, C. Kustenbauter, tract in Spring
Twp.; $1.
H. E. Dunlap, sheriff, to First Na-
‘tional bank, ‘tract in State College;
$5,260,
William J. Mildon, et ux, to Clar-
ence Gustafson, et ux, tract in Phil-
ipsburg; $1.
John C. Fulton, et ux to William
F. Stonebraker, et al tract in Tay-
lor Twp.; $300,
E. R. Hancock Exec. et al to
Harry Janet, tract in Union Twp;
$1,505.
James J. Morgan to Sophia Cona-
way, tract in Snow Shoe Twp.; $1.
Mary Breon to J, Cloyd Brooks,
Then I get tract in Centre Hall; $1,700.
H. A.Taylor to T. M. Huey, tract
Patton Twp.; $1.
T. A. Meyer, et ux to A. E,
Mingle, et al tract in Penn Twp.;
Harry C. Rothrock, et ux, to Elea-
the wagon is becaue I was with nor Gettig, tractin Port Matilda; $1.
S. H. Hoy et ux, to Common-
wealth of Pennsylvania, tract in
Benner Twp,; $16,000.
.I happen to be with when I get that | BERT LYTELL IN “BROTHERS”
way.”
“Then you ought never
ything.
“That’s good advice,
times I just have to.
\ And it doesn’t seem right not to and for four months
enjoy myself, my first time in New
York,”
“You certainly don’t call it enjoy-
ing yourself, to hit women!”
“I do, though. I get quite a
cout of it.
happened to be there.”
i "For
to drink :
i
{
1
i
AT NIXON IN PITTSBURGH.
Bert Lytell, star of stage and |
but some- screen, who for a full year filled
the 48th Street theatre, New York,
the Erlanger
theatre, Chicago, with enthusiastic
audiences, by his brilliant perform-
ance in “Brothers,” will open for
'an entire week’s engagement at the
the sake of those readers who took as his theme the
kick | Nixon theatre in Pittsburgh next
I don’t mean I pick on Monday night, January 27, in that
“because he’s really a coward and of women especially, but this girl just thrilling romantic melodrama.
Herbert Ashton Jr., the author,
effects of
have not seen “Journey's End” and heredity and environment upon twin
who hope to, I. will not divulge any boys, one brought up in luxury, the
more of its content, but will merely other reared along the water-front,
state that there were at least two 'and with such background he de-
men
they could borrow the captain's gun.
“Will” said Stella as they went
out, “I don’t believe we'd better have
dinner together, I'm tired and you
look tired yourself.”
“I'm not tired,” said Will. “Even
if T was, a few shots of rye will fix
me up.”
“But I'm afraid. I'm afraid Ralph
might come home.”
“You said he wouldn't be home till
day after tomorrow.”
in the audience who wished
veloped an absorbing play that
teems with excitement, romance,
pathos and humor, and affords Mr,
Lytell a wonderful opportunity in
the dual role that keeps his audi-
ence bewildered by the amazingly
quick changes from one character
to the other. Time and time again
' this remarkable transition is made,
“He changes his mind sometimes,
He never stays away longer than he
has to.”
“That's what he tells you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing at all. But ’'m not go-
ing to urge you against your better
judgment. Do exactly as you like.”
“Well, T really think you'd better
send me home. It’s been grand—"
“Tl take you home.”
“No, that isn’t necessary at all”
she said. “And the maid might see
vou and wonder.”
“All right, Stell’.
the maid wonder.”
“rl get in this taxi. Good-by. will
Tt was wonderful of you to give me
such a treat”
“I'm the one that got the treat.”
“You're the same old Will!”
The taxi drove off and Will hur-
We mustn't let
almost before the very eyes of the
audience, and it is a change not only
of clothes but of walk and talk; a
complete change of personality.
Lytell, who has become famous
for his characterizations of gentle-
manly crooks in the movies, will in
“Brothers” do a slightly different
part, and one that makes a great
demand upon his versatility as an
actor, He will be supported by a
large Broadway cast including Grace
Menken, Clara Palmer, Ben Mac-
Quarrier, William Ingersoll, Frank
Sylvester, James Seely, Rosemary
King, Matt Briggs, Ashley Cooper,
Rita Carlyle, Lloyd Carleton, Gene
Byram, Russell Rockwell, Irene
Shirley, Alyce Rera, Eugene Wil-
liams, and Walter Shuttleworth.
The production is in a prologue
and three acts, and promises to he
as great a sensation here as it was
at the 48th Street Theatre, New
York, and at the Erlanger Theatre,
Chicago.
tomorrow. You
FOR AND ABOUT WOMEN.
. Such . is Life. Seid
He put his arm around her
And whispered in her ear:.
She listened and then nodded,
As he drew her near.
Then he gently kissed her
And talked in quiet tone—
The girlie was his sister;
He was asking for a loan,
—When and how a man takes
off his hat is a subject far from
trivial, for the manner in which a
man raises his hat indicates at once
his place in the “polite” world,
There can be no careless imitation
of the act of courtesy in the way
a gentleman raises his hat. re
The up-and-coming American of
today realizes that a pleasi per-
sonality and good manners smooth
the way to many a successful
i business deal and a social triumph,
So how a man takes off his h
and what he does with it on va-
Tons Secasions i 4 Sle of those
ittle 'S 0 make u
ng id Be
There are occasions in which a
man takes off his hat, and there
are other occasions when he only
“lifts” his hat. Generally speaking,
he takes off or “raises his hat
friends and acquaintances and
“lifts” his hat to strangers. (The
word “tips” is a word not in a
ruse concerning hats. It should be
avoided, and “takes off” “raises”
or “lifts” as the case may be,
should be used instead.) The word
“touch” is occasionally used, as in
the case of one man who “touches”
his hat to a man of his own age
But for a man to “touch” his hat
when he should ' take it off is hat.
unmannerly, ‘ He should try to ac-
quire a poilte and graceful manner
of taking off his hat—mot a cere-
monious flourishing manner, or a
“dude” manner of “examining the
lining,” as it is called and not a
“stingy” manner of seeming to
point to his hat to show that he
has one!
A man takes off his hat:
1. When he meets a woman he
knows.
2. When he is with a woman or
man who bows toa passing woman,
3. When he is with a woman
who bows to a passing man or
woman.
4. When he takes his leave from
a woman he knows,
5. When the flag goes by and
when the national anthem is played.
6. When he bows to a clergy-
man.
7. Usually when he passes a
Roman Catholic church, if he is a
Roman Catholic, .
8. When he bows to very old
men or distinguished men.
9. When a funeral passes (all
Europeans do this and many well-
bred Americans.)
10. When he enters the elevator
of an apartment house or hotel or
club, when there are women in the
elevator,
11, Whn he meets a foreigner
who raises his hat to him when he
bows.
12. When he enters "his office.
13. When he enters a church
whether or not there is a service. -
14. When he bows to another
man ‘on the street—if he is an old-
fashioned gentlemen’ with a partic-
ularly courtly manner,
A man lifts his hat (that is, he
lifts it slightly off his head and re-
places it, without bow or smile.)
1. When he passes a woman in
a narrow space or on a stairway,
or stops to let her pass.
2. When he is accidentally push-
ed against a woman, for example in
the crush of a street car, He lifts
his hat again in acknowledgement.
4. When another man offers a
seat in a car to a lady whom he
is accompanying.
5. When he asks a lady if he
may pass her, as in getting off a
crowded car,
6, When he asks a question ora
direction or any information of a
stranger. 1
7. When he picks up somethi
for a woman that she has droppe
8. When he gives information to
a woman who, for example asks
him a direction,
9. When he does some slight
service for a woman, or when he is
with a woman who has done him a
service. ;
—One should consider the pongee
suit when planning the spring ward-
robe. The little skirt and bolero
coat are easily fashioned from in-
expensive materials and are jaunty
and stylish,
— Dead white comes in again for
tennis wear and other Southern re-
sort clothes, It is more important
for evening than any single color.
—Spring slips will be longer and
often with irregular hemline. The
fitted princess slips with wrap-
around skirt portion are chic.
— Your visiting cards should car-
ry your formal name, with no ab-
breviations:
Mrs, Henry Oliver Burgess
If you do not wish to use the
middle name omit it altogether
even the initial, Initials are not in
good taste on visiting-cards.
On your letter paper, use either
your monogram —V.K.B.—or your
address, The printed or engraved
name in full and address:
Mrs. Henry Oliver Burgess
254 Park Lane,
Town, Arizona,
is for onlv business letters and
professional letters, The mono-
grammed or addressed paper is for
social use.
The form you use on your Christ-
mas card depends on the form of
the greetings. If it is formal—in the
| third person—you use your formal
{ name. as on vour visiting cards. If
| it is informal vou use your informal
| name. That is. your name and your
' husband's, For Christmas cards
should be sent out jointly by hus.
band and wife, whether they are
formal or informal.
rn es lh oe ir
—We do your job work right.