[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