[jjij ReadiivJ <MVJ all ihc THE HONEYMOON HOUSE By HAZEL DALE "But, Jarvis," remonstrated Janet when they finally escaped from the restaurant, "you are almost rudo to the man. "What was the matter with you?" "I don't like the cap," said Jarvis quickly. "I hope you weren't taken with him." "Why I thought he was very nice, *n.l I liked his idea about collabor ating. Why did you cut him off that way?" "Because I didn't think lie was sin cere." Janet stared at him curiously. It was so unusual for Jarvls to take this attitude, and she hesitated about say ing anything much for fear of spoil ing the evening. Janet was too frank ly jealous of her happiness to risk losing even a little bit. But she did not understand Jarvis in his present mood. They had come out to dinner, and almost as soon as they had enter ed the restaurant Janet had noticed a man at the next table observing them rather closely. He had turned out to be an editor of the magazaine Janet working for, and Jarvis had met him informally that afternoon at the theater. "Didn't you want him to come over to our table?" Janet queried. "Of course," Jarvis returned. But he offered nothing more, and Janet thrilled with a feeling half pain as she walked along at Jarvis's side. From the time when Janet had first met Jarvis he had been the only man for her. She had admitted this fact to herself,- and had admitted it to him many times, just as he had told her that she was the only girl in the world for him. But Janet was a woman, and was, therefore, capable of jealousy. Not that she was the narrow type of woman, jealous of everyone, but she knew that if the oc casion ever demanded it, she could be jealous enough of anyone who tried to interfere with her to do almost any thing in the way of a rash act. Once .she had spoken lightly to Jarvis of this fact, and he had responded queerly. "I might be jealous," he had said, "but I think I would rather die than let you know it." And Jarvis had meant what he said. Never from the time wnen Janet mar ried him had he for a moment ex pressed any dislike for her dealings with men. And it piqued Janet. Deep down in every woman's heart is. the desire to be restrained by force if nec essary. Janet wanted no one but Jarvis, but she was feminine enough to enjoy being admired by other men. Therefore, she wanted Jarvis to note this fact and to be towerlngly .iealous. And Jarvis had never been jealous before. She wondered if it could be possible that he was jealous now. 1 "Don't you want to collaborate with me?" Janet questioned after a few minutes of silence. "Sure, X do, but that fellow was too eager to make arrangements. I don't think it was necessary for him to ask you to come to his office Monday, do you? And the way he looked at you. I tell you, I don't like him." "You said this afternoon that he was a nice chap, and you liked him," remarked Janet. "1 did like him this afternoon, but there was something about him to night that I didn't like at all. Are you going to meet him Monday?" "I don't know, boy," Janet con sidered. "I suppose it might be poli tic. You see he may have a great deal of influence on the magazine. And you might be misjudging him, Jarvis. You just might be, you know." "I have taken a dislike to him," .Tarvis returned. "As a general rule I don't do that, either. I haven't ob jected to any other man you have cared to know, have I?" This argument went a long way toward convincing Janet that often intuition went a long way toward averting calamities. As she thought of intuitions, she remembered sud denly Karen Mikal and the strange coincidence of the letter from Dick. She wondered what that letter con tained, and again determined to tell Jarvis all about it when she returned home. There was no time for it now, slie was too much engrossed in her own affairs. "I won't go to see him if you'd rather not. You know Jarvis. that if I did go. it would be because it might mean advancement for both of us. Don't you think his offer sounded liromising?" "Oh, I might have, but he was too anxious to make one of our party to-night. Perhaps that made me ■want to get rid of him more than ever. I thought you were going to in vite him to go with us for a while there." "Well, I didn't want to be rude to the man. Jarvis dear, are you really jealous?" Jarvis turned to her with an in dignant denial, but as lie met her eyes, and his own took in her ador able self, he grinned boyishly. "Put it that way, if you like." And Janet treasured it up as one of her choicest possessions, certain that no man ever really loves unless at some time or other he admits to being Jealous. (To be Continued). immediate and permanent relief from eczema I prescribe Resinol 'lf yoa want to experamrrtl, try gome of those things yoa talk about. if yon really want that itching (topped and your skin healed, get a jar of Resinol Ointment We doctors have been pre scribing£to/ever since yoa were a small boy. so we know what it will do.", it o nm(f ttat II t*n m ntd on opowd without tttractio* ttUßtfon. Sold brill drutr*t. WEDNESDAY EVENING, The Scribb Family—They Live Right Here in Harrisburg—By Sullivan Ma % K h "p wh"h r st°rL s Mine Swm' 3Hl attenTonTßH wsuKETim. EHInIHH rS-JSS rKuWrlNlj r(JK \Nff< VtOV MllfU £TPAU/ POOT ! damaged according to Associated .. I ICKI l"|l/Lr| • 7' "nn Press reports Charles E. Gale, * 1 —■" * \p "ll lf"~—T* r Mr. Galo a brother-in-law of / ' 1/ I 1 * ' Tll|' l| f'iT ll Hill i N l I T I I I \n TIT IWB w. Jones, plant superintendent of the ' II T Jh!. J1 1 I" I / | I ' I < f l| 1111 ||ll| Mt. Pleasant Prlntery, this city. I I iW ' P Mil I I I I l il I I IHI Mr. Jones has been in constant com- I ' ViiuHjj jj | i|| a I I II 111 l munlcatlon with officials of the New i U i || ; j I | ID 11111 l I York's steamship line. A cablegram 151" I ijjflU I , ji|f received late yesterday afternoon said •••••'*•• ... . • . .... Jil* jljjfl • • 0 #U • <•• • •• o. . . • |i 1 111 no one had been hurt and that tho 11 Sit J II I steamer was not safe in her dock al ;ISI I 1 j though badly damaged. Mr. Gale has U J1? r■ • | j, K 2v n | we a wsff MS 1 " ' t | |/Cc(mrc<&&P ) I (> © NAN of ® MUSIC MOUNTAIN By Trnnk tl. Spearman . Author of AVhisperiivg Smith. cowiuaw f jijgM sanßria') jortf (Continued) SYNOPSIS. CHAPTER I—On Frontier day at Sleepy Cat, Henry de Spain, tunman and train master at Medicine Bend, la beaten at target shooting by Nan Morgan of Music Mountain. Jeffries, division superinten dent, asks De Spain to take charge of the Thief River stage line, but he refuses. CHAPTER ll—De Spain sees Nan danc ing with Gale Morgan, is later derisively pointed out to Nan on the street by Gale, anj is moved to change his mind and ac cept the stage line Job. CHAPTER III—De Spain and Defever ride to Calabasas inn and there meet Gale Morgan with Deaf Sandusky and Bassoon, gunmen and retainers of the Morgan clan. Morgan demands the dis charge of a stage driver and De Bpaln re fuses. De Spain meets Nan but falls to overcome her aversion to him. CHAPTER IV—Sassoon knifes Elpaso. the stage driver, and escapes to Morgan's fap, the stronghold of the Morgans. De pain, Lefever and Scott go in after him, and De Spain brings out Sasson alone. CHAPTER V—He meets Nan. who de lays him until nearly overtaken by the Morgans, but lands his captive In Jail. CHAPTER Vl—Sassoon breaks Jail. De 6pa}n beards the Morgans in a saloon and Is shot at through the window. He meets Nan again. The big room was well filled for a wet night. De Spain took a place In shadow near one side of the door way facing the street door and at times looked within for the loosely jointed frame, crooked neck, tousled forehead, and malevolent face of the cattle thief. He could fiud in the many figures scat tered about the room none resembling the one he sought. A man entering the place spoke to another coming out. De Spain over heard the exchange. "Duke got rid of his steers yet?" asked the first. "Not yet." "Slow game." "The old man sold quite a bunch this time. The way he's playing now he'll last twenty-four hours." De Spain, following the newcomer ■trolled into the room and, beginning at one side, proceeded In leisurely fashion from wheel to wheel and table to table inspecting the players. Few looked at him and none paid any at tention to his presence. At Tenlson's table the idlers crowded about one player whom De Spain, without get ting closer in among the onlookers than he wanted to, could not see. Tenlson, as De Spain approached, happened to look up wearily. He apoke in an impassive tone across the intervening heads: "What happened to your red tie, Henry?" De Spain put up his hand to his neck, and looked down at a loose end banging from his soft cravat. It had been torn by the bullet meant for hi* head. He timed the end Inside his collar. "A Calabasas man tried to un tie It a few minutes ago. He missed the knot." Tenlson did not hear the answer. He had reverted to hla case. De Spain moved on and, after making the round of the scattered tables, walked acaln through the doorway, only to meet, a:< she stood hesitating und apparently about to enter the room, Nan Morgan. CHAPTER VII. The Gambling Room. They confronted each other blankly. To Nan's confusion was added her em barrassment at her personal appear ance. Her hat was wet, and the limp shoulders of her khaki Jacket and the front of her silk blouse showed the wilting effect of the rain. In one hand ehfe clutched wet rkllng gloves. Her cheeks, either from the cold rain or mental stress, fairly burned, and her eyes, which had. seemed when he en countered her, lired with some resolve, changed to an expression of dismay. This was hardly for more than an instant. Then her lips tightened, her eyes dropped, and she took a step to one side to avoid De Spain and enter the gambling room) He stepped In front of her. She looked up, furious. "What do you mean?" she exclaimed with indignation. "Let me pass." The sound of her voice restored his selfpossession. He made no move to get out of her way, indeed he rather pointedly continued to obstruct her. "You've made a mistake, I think," he said evenly. "I have not,"'she replied with resent ment. "Let me pass." "I think you have. You don't know where you are going," he persisted, his eyes bent uncompromisingly on hers. She showed Increasing Irritation al his attempt to exculpate her. "I know perfectly well where I am going," she retorted with heat. "Then you know," he returned stead ily, "that you've no business to enter such a place." His opposition seemed only to anger her. "I know where I have business, I need uo admonitions from you as to what places I enter. You are imperti nent, insulting. Let me pass!" His stubborn opposition showed no signs of weakening before her resolve. "One question," he said, Ignoring her angry words: "Have you ever been in these rooms before?" He thought she quailed the least bit before his searching look. She even hesitated as to what to *ny. But If her eyes fell momentirlly it was only to collect herself. "Yes," she answered, looking up unflinchingly. Her resolute eyes supported her de fiant word und openly challenged his Interference, but he met her once more quietly. "I ar.i sorry to hear It," he rejoined. "But that won't make any difference. You can't go in tonight." "I will go In," she cried, "No," he returned slowly, "you are not going In—not. at least, while I am here." They stood Immovable, Ho tried to HARRISBURQ TELEGRAPH reason lier out of iier determination. She resented every word he flffered. "You are most insolent," she exclaimed. "You are interfering in something that is no concern of yours. You hare no right to act in this outrageous way. If you don't stand aside I'll call for help." "Nan!" De Spain spoke her name suddenly and threateningly. His words fell fast, and he checked her for an instant with his vehemence. "We me! in the gap a week ago. i said 1 was telling you the exact truth. Did 1 do it?" "I don't care whst you aaid or what you did—" "Answer me," he said sharply; "did I tell you the truth?" "I don't know or care—" "Yes, jou do know—" "What you say or do--" "I told you the truth then, and I am telling it now. I will never see you enter a gambling room as long as I "Answer Me," He Said Sharply. "Did I Tell You the Truth?" can prevent it. Call for help If you like." She looked at him with amazement. She seemed about to speak—to make another protest. Instead, she turned suddenly away, hesitated again, put both hands to her face, burst into tears, and hurried toward the stairs. De Spain followed her. "Let me take you to where you are going?" Nan turned on him, her eyes blaz ing through her tears, with a single, scjprnful, furious word: "No!" She quickened her step from him in such confusion that she ran into two men Just reaching the top of the stuirs. They separated with alacrity, and gave her passage. One of the men was Lefever, who, despite his size, was ex tremely nimble in getting out of her urgent way, and quick In lifting his hat. She fairly raced down the flight of steps, leaving Lefever looking aftei her in astonishment. He turned to De Spain: "Now, who the deuce was that?" De Spain Ignored his question bj asking another: "Did you And him?" Lefever shook Ills head. "Not a trace; I covered Main afreet. I guess Bob was right. home herev Henry ?" <To Ue CoiiUuucd) HAS CONFIDENCE IN AMERICAN WOMEN "Does the Average American Woman Really Delight in the Saccharine and Scented Dope That Is Handed to Her?" BY MRS. WILSON WOODROW All signs to the contrary I have a profound confidence in the Ameri can woman, an almost touching be lief in her inherent common sense, her breadth of mind, her sweetness and sanity of nature." I made this innocent remark to Agnes. Her spine immediately stif fened, her mouth set, her eyes glit tered. "What do you mean by all signs to the contrary?" she asked icily. "I think American women are the most splendid, and wonderful, and —" "So do I," I hastened to agree, and that neither hypocritically nor diplomatically. "But, to paraphrase the heroine of one of Mr. Howell's earlier novels, 'My name is Luella Blood, and 1 want to know.' "And one of the things I want to know is: Does the average Amer can woman really delight in the saccharine and scented dope that is handed her in the form of popular plays, novels, motion pictures, etc.- "We are assured that they exist by reason of feminine patronage: that the producers' and promoters and builders of them are giving wo men the mental food and stimulant they, crave and demand. Do not the boxofflce receipts prove it. " ladinit that boxoffice logic is ir refutable, but I maintain that it is not the last word, or the last half a dozen words. All that keeps my tottering faith from falling into the ashcan is that not only the cock sure boxofflce but all the moss-grown traditions which surround it are con stantly getting a hard jolt. Old ARC Plays Ixiul "For instance, theatrical producers have held it as an axiom from time Immemorial that no play can be suc cessful unless the young-love theme is the dominant note, and yet the critics have been commenting with profound amazement upon the fact that in some of the most successful plays of the last winter old age has played the leading roles. "Does woman really admire her own distorted image in that mirror held up to artificiality, her so-called favorite fiction? "If so, she has no taste for va riety, for there are just three in variable views of her. "First, a pretty girl in a pink frock giving her young heart to an •ad vanced dresser' type of leading man, ' T goes through all kinds of hair raising adventures for her, and finally when, by supreme daring be has knocked to smithereens all of the Im passable barriers betvieen them, she ends her life as far as all other in terests arc concerned at the altar in white satin and grandmother's lace veil to the tune of Mendelssohn's Wedding March. "Very pretty reading for Sixteen, hut does stout Thlrt,v-five. stouter Forty-five, Increasingly stout Fifty really enjoy It as we are led tc be lieve? "The second favorite imaginary portrait is the Misunderstood Wife. A perfect but sad and wistful crea ture, with that unbreakable sweet ness. that omniscient wisdom, that superior spiritual nature, which is enough to rouse any husband's latent brutality. And there is always a knightly soul in the ofltng who wor ships and understands and appreci ates this pearl In the brow of a swine. "He kneels at the foot of her ped estal and swings the Incense-burner before her. There are any number of passionate but pure love scenes be tween them and their one big thrill ing, terrific renunciation, which should draw tears even from the eyes of her own callously Insensible hus band. "Xba third portrait is the Siren, a rt jrrCl 11, 1917. sinuous, lithe composite of Nazimova and Theda Bara, with mysterious, smouldering eyes and weird Jewels. Her business in life is to 'dismantle and desmember men's days and dreams, Juliette.' She reforms, of course, and becomes religious and re pairs all the evil she has wrought, but she doesn't live long. Her well laundered present is toj monotonous after her circus-poster past. "Do we really like that sort of thing?" I asked. "If we do, let's be gin at once to improve on nature. "We don't hesitate to do sc in the matter of our complexions. Then why stop at our minds and hearts?" "X am convinced," said Agnes firm ly, "that we merely accept it, be cause it is taken for granted that it Is the sort of thing we like. You re member how you and Mary and my self put in last Thursday?" I did. We went to a high-brow lecture in the morning, where a man with interesting eyes and a charming manner told us that women were the nation's backbone of culture, or words to that effect, ar.d all that kept poetry and art on their feet. And because he depends on the patronage of women in order to ex ist, because we ;.re u .is meal-tickets, he flattered us to the limit, openly, covertly, subtly, smearingly. He treated us as if we were a box of bonbons to be handled with little, gilded tin tongs before eating. We left the hall which harbored the golden vice, and went to lunch eon. We had chicken .a la king and salad with some new dressing and fluffy icWl pudding, and tried to justify the reputation the Golden Voice had wished on us. We all talked at once, and literally hurled chunks of metal radium at each oth er's heads. Then we came away, feel ing how audaciously brilliant we had been. In a Rut We put in an hour or so skating, and that admitted a little fresh air into the sachet-powered atmosphere; f..nd then we knitted, and drank tea, and talked to some clever lads who professed to know all about the Seven Arts, but showed an over whelming ignorance of them and ev erything else. As we got into our furs and sur reptitiously powdered our noses Mary sighed. "The end of a perfect day." she said, "for debutantes, maybe. 13ut we CAMPHOROLE-AT ONCE REUEVESPAIN It Soothes and Loosens Up Those Stiff, Rheumatic Joints, Reduces Infiama tion and Drives Out Pain Don't suffer with Lumbago, Rheuma tism, Neuritis, Pleurisy, Neuralgia and Congestion. Here is the quickest and surest relief. iPain is an easy thing to stop. Get a jar of Camphorole from the nearest drug store, and while you are applying Gamphorole you will wonder where the pain has gone. The remark sfcle success of Camphorole is entirely due to Wintergreen, Menthol and Camphor, prepared in a synthetic way to give re sults It is well known that the ra?dical profession anj med'cal papers testify to their great curative piwperties. At all druggists, 25c and 500 jars. Dr. BrigadeU, Manufacturer, Atlantic City, N. J. UNDERTAKER 1745 Chas. H. Mauk N . e ;; H 8T PRIVATE AMBULANCE PHONES are thirty, and that 'little more—and how much it is,' and we are supposed to be clever, up-to-date women." As for myself 1 felt as if I had marshmaUow barnacles growing all over my soul. There you are. We had all wanted a day of healthful, happy play which should send us back to our routine of life invigorated and refreshed; and we followed the conventional lines of amusement. We were in the rut, and we didn't use our brains and imagi nations to get out of it. Yet I do not agree with Agnes. We are improving, we are getting on. This interminable knitting is a vast improvement over the embroidered doily.' You know that maddening em broidered doily, the one with the spray of daisies in the corner. Do you fancy that those women in England and on the Continent, who have during the war taken' the place of men in practically every de partment of work, and have perform ed their tasks with a patience and efficiency and concentration which have startled the world, .will ever go back to the dreary task 'of manufac turing interests to till up the idle hours? I believe profoundly that the American woman, too, is growin* beyond all makeshift substitutes for real work and real play. What do you think about it? A GOOD WINTER HABIT Many people dread winter because the sudden climatic changes bring colds, grippe, rheumatism, tonsilitis or bronchitis. But thousands of well informed men and women today avoid much sicknessfor themselvesand their children by taking a few bottles of Scott's Emulsion to make richer blood, fortify the membranes of the throat andchest and create body-warmth to re sist sickness. Soldiers at war receive cod liver oil; it will also strengthen you. Scott & Bowne, Bloomfkld, N. J. 16-31 * White Lined-Odorless WHITE TAR MOTH PROOF BAGS are airtight, germ and moisture proof. The best bags in which to put away your furs, wo6lens and otjier winter garments. They are a sure protection against moths, insects and mice; G sizes up to #1.50 Forney's Drugstore Second St., near Walnut t ' A Men's Fine Tailoring Kxtrnurdlnary M tolK'r-niHdr Saltn ,s t<> order Also riifttom-madr /'■l'Mli'lillliy Shirts. m n,n THOMAS P. MOIIAN 814 .V Third St. ,\guieu) 1 UllOl CrMUI Keeps I the bttln bolt and Velvety in Koufh Weather. An £*guiiiH Toilet Prep aration, 26 c. UUIIUA9 1 UHIIU STORKS IS N. Third St.. Bad l\ It. 11. stattea * 7
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers