10 Ljfij Readii\tj[ fSfV<&rcvgi\ and all ike jS| : | "The Insider" jj By Virginia Terhune Vnn de J | C Water CHAPTER Xli New experiences followed so quickly upon one another that spring; that I can hardly recall the order in which they came. It must have been these experi ences that crowded from my mind further speculation as to the cause of Mrs. Gore's pertubation at her brother-in-law's business trip to Connecticut, and made it possible for me to bantsh temporarily from rcy thoughts the strangp conversa tion I had overheard on the night of his return. Nor did I think much of Tom's evident displeasure at this same business trip. Later I was to remember these things. Now they were superseded by my own affairs. For to a girl accustomed to get ting on with very little, the shop ping tours, the prety clothes, the many new things, were real adven tures. My employer seemed to be grow ing younger that spring. His sis tcr-in-law noticed it and remarked upon it to me. "I do not see how Brewster has the energy to go about as much as he does." she observed one morning after her brother-in-law had an nounced that he was planning to get tickets for the theater that night and take her and myself. "He for gets that I ani not strong enough to go out us often as ho would like me to. You know I used to insist that I would not leave Grace alone Ki night with only the servants. But, without telling me, Brewster has ar ranged with Julia to sit right in your room the whole time we are out—and he pays her a couple of dollars for doin git. 1 objected, but he got vexed and reminded me that that was his affair. So what can I do but go when he says he wants mc to?" ."Nothing else." I assured her. "And why not have a pleasant out ing when you can? Julia is very conscieutious about Grace.'" "I suppose she is," Mrs. Gore ad mitted reluctantly. "Rut I do not approve of the' arrangement." To (lie Tltcatcr Nevertheless, we three went to the treater and stopped at the Astor for something to eat after the per formance. Mr:--. Gore enjoyed the exening so much that I had a vague suspicion that she had not often had the opportunity to accompany her RMod-loooking relative to plays and suppers. Indeed, she intimated as much, and laugher lightly. "No." he acknowledged, "I have not heretogore urged you to accom pany me, Adelaide, because Grace was not as well as she now is. I vsed to accept other people's invi tations to their theater parties. Now Daily Dot Puzzle s+.ty 1 S3. 9.2 *51.3 £V j 46 5 45 * • • . 41 . *3 fe. 43. 7. V 3O * 'J* ; 3t> "ihf* •!' \ •a* .15 *•* v r..t 3L • • * ,3 * l3 a „ f• •" 1 i Bringing^Up Father copyright, 1917, international News service I L, IKII I I "twoz I I I AND I N.) I —I -I FELLOW NEVER had AN I VHAT DID *W-LED IM JQ<Q HEAJtjED SHED THE SONC, I S^^5 iE ' \ ) I HE DIE or? L—, hZc T (J*"*®* o**".-* 0 **".-* I J ' S T" MARRIED'. COPT OF THE ~"~ I—. : L ' j THURSDAY EVENING, THE NEBBY NEIGHBO They Live Here in Harrisburg i- n — .1' II r t~? blaia! foym!! 1 11— r ■—r . | Now IT'S CHUBB § TIS NOT— ITS NO YOU DONT- I0WN\!!? ITS fAY f WU, CHILDREN L I'M THE OU£ THAT 1 7UI?N,HERMISH , fWY TU(?N—I CHUBB DOES!J TURN NOW —'AN I WE'LL WAVE TO LET . _ BOUGHT THIS COMB AfTER J 1 WANT IT too!!! FATHER HAVE HIS WAY— 2 KlDDlfc K*R r PHYLLIS, DON'T V . HV __ J YOU KNOW HOW HE IS. —( AND NOBODY CAN f li . //Z ' _ Ln FOOL WE OUT L- f!f Mli i that my sister can go with me I pro ! pose to have my own theater sprees." When upon such occasions—and j they were many that spring—his ac ! quaintances spoke to him in lobby or J restaurant my employer introduced ; them to his sister and tne in one ! breath. It gave the impression that j we were both relatives. I I did not analyze matters then, iSo I did not almit that perhaps I Brewster Norton took his sister-in- I law out because he wanted to take 1 me, and convention forbade his do ing so without a chaperone. But I | recognized the fact that he was careful to do nothing that might i cause unpleasant comment about ' me. And I decided that the reason I he wished to convey the impression that I was his cousin was that he I thought it would be an added pro i tection to me. As so often happens late in May, the weather grew suddenly very j warm. I was busy for some days I shopping with Mrs. Gore and Grace, setting what the child must have i for summer, and such frocks and | hats as I, myself, would need. ; Then Tom came home. There was a week of packing, and at last we sc* out for the country home in Con- I nerticut.' Mr. Norton, Tom. Garce and I j went up in the automobile. Mrs. Gore preferred to go by train with the servants. She feared that i the long drive might give her a headache. The limousine must go up, for 1 although Brewstei; Norton had a touring car and a runabout at his ■ country place, Mrs. Gore preferred j riding on a limousine at all sea | sons, and her brother-in-law hu mored her by letting her have the big machine at Hillcrest. "We younsters—Tom, Miss Dart, Grace and I—are going to open ev ery window and enjoy our jaunt," | Mr. Norton declared merrily as he j bade his sister-in-law good-bye that | morning. "I have arranged to be | away from the office all day. You I will reach Hillcrest before us, for • we do not leave until after lunch- Icon—which, by the way, we will get at a restaurant." Tom for Frcsli Air It was when we had returned from luncheon that Tom and his fa- I ther closed the house, stowed nu i merous parcels in the bottom of the car and helped Grace and me to our places. "Suppose wtt sit in front with James, Tom." Mr. Norton, suggested as the chauffeur took his "and Miss Dart. Grace and I will sit in the back." "That suits me!" the boy agreed. "I hate sitting in the rear of this eld limousine. In front I can get more air." . Thus it was that my employer and I. with Grace bet wen us, rode In ; the rear of the car all the way out to Hillcrest. We had gone but a few miles be fore Grace was fast asleep, her head in my lap. Carefully, that he might not awaken her, hre father lilted her legs across his knees and threw a light robe over her. I slipped a small cushion under her I head, but she did not awake from i her heavy slumber. With the tfhild asleep, and Tom In l front with the chauffeur. Brewster | Norton and I were, so far as con i vrrsation was concerned, alone. An idea- flashed through my mind. I Would people whom we passed I fancy that Grace was the child of the man and woman holding her? Then I reminded myself that they were more likely to think that I , was my employer's older daughter. I Had he not said that he was old enough to be my father? But even in the broad glare of the 1 afternoon sunlight; he did not look It. (To be Continued.) CHAPTER 1. Hank Cashier and Society .Man. It was ten minutes of eight when J. Montague Smith had driven his runabout to its garage and was hastening across to his suite of bachelor apartments in the Kincaid terrace. It was his regular evening for calling upon Miss Verda Rich lander, and time pressed. The provincial had chosen a fit subject for their illustra tion in the young cashier of the Lew rencevllle Bank and Trust. From his earliest recollections Montague Smith had lived the life of the well-be haved and th econventional. He had his niche in the Lawrenceville social structure, and another in the small city business, world, and he filled both to his own satisfaction and to the admiration of all and sundry. Ambi tions, other than to take promotions In the lrank as they came to him, and, eventually, to make money enough to satisfy the demands which Josiah Richlander might make upon a pros pective son-in-law, had never trou bled him. An extremely well-balanc ed young man his fellow townsmen called him, one of whim it might safely be predicted that he would go straightforwardly on his way to re putable middle life and old age; moderate in all things, impulsive in none. Even in the affair with Miss Rich lander sound common sense and sober second thought had been made to .stand in the room of supersenti rnent. Smith did not know what it was to be violently in love; though he was a charter member of the Lawrenceville Athletic club and took a certain pride in keeping himslf physically lit and up to the mark, it was not his habit to be violent in anything. Lawrenceville expected its young men and young women to marry and "settle down," and J. Montague Smith, figuring in a mod est way as a leader in the Lawrense vill youngest set, was far too conser vative to break with the tradition, even if he had wished to. Miss Rich lander was desirable in many re spects. Her father's ample fortune had not come early enough or rapidly enough to spoil her. In moments when his feeling for her achieved its nearest approach to sentiment the conservative young man perceived what a graciously resplendent figure she would make as the mistress of her own house and the hostess of her own table. Smith snappd the switch of the electrics and began to lay out his evening clothes, methodically bu£ with a certain air of calm delibera tion, inserting the buttons in the waistcoat, choosing hose of the prop r thinness, rummaging a virgin tie HARRISBURG TELEGRAPH out of its boK in the top dressing -1 case drawer. i It was in the search for the tie ; that he turned up a mute reminder j ot his nearest approach to any edge ;of the real chasm of sentiment; a i small glove, somewhat soiled and j use-worn, with a tiny rip in one of the fingers. It had been a full year i since he had seen the glove or its ! owner, whom he had met only once, ! and that entirely by chance. The girl j was a visitor from the West, the j daughter of a ranchman, he liad | understood; and she had been stOp | ping over with friends in a neighbor ; ing town. Smith had driven over one I evening in his runabout to make a : call upon the daughters of the house : and had found a lawn party in pro i great), with the western visitor as the 1 guest of honor. i Acquaintance—such an acquaint ance as can be achieved in a short so ! cial hour—had followed. At all points j the bewitching young woman from the wilderness had proved, to be a : mocking critic of the commonplace conventions, and had been moved to | pillory the same in the person of her i momentary entertainer. Some thrills i this young person from the wide | horizons had stirred in him were his j only excuse for stealing her glove. There remained now nothing of the j clashing encounter at the lawn party save the soiled glove, a rather ob scure memory of a facetoo piquant and attractive to be cheapened by the word "pretty;" these and a thing she had said at the moment of parting: "Yes, I am going back home very soon. I don't like your smug middle West civilization, Mr. Smith —it smothers me. I don't won der that it breeds men who live and grow up and die without ever having j a chance to find themselves." Some day, perhaps, he would tell Verda Richlander of the .sharp-ton gued little Western beauty. Verda — ! and all sensible people—would smile ■ at the idea that he, John Montague j Smith, was of those who" had not "found" themselves, or that the find ing—by which he had understood j the Western young woman to mean something radical and upsetting could in any way be forced upon a ! man who was old enough and sane | enough to know his own lengths and breadths and depths. He was stripping off his coat to j dress when he saw two letters which ! had evidently been thrust under the door during his absence with Debritt. ; One Qf the envelopes was plain, with j his name scribbled on it in pencil : The other bore a typewritten address | with the card of Westfall Foundries I Company in its upper left-hand cor j ner. Smith opened Carter Westfall's letter first and read it with a little j twinge of shocked surprise, as one The Honeymoon House By HAZEL DALE They began their regime of eco nomy by dining at a really Bohe mian place downtown, a place where Janet had never been before. There seemed to be a camaraderie about the atmosphere that was infectious. Janet conlided this opinion to Jarvis when they were seated at one of the long narrow tables with bare, shining boards to eat from, and thick dishes. One had to write one's order out on little pads of paper, too. Janet was quite fascinated with it all. Several other people sat at their table. There seemed to be little or no privacy about the meal, but it seemed a thing not needed. Janet was reminded at first of a boarding house, but afterward of a large fam ily. The food was unbelievably cheap. In fact, Janet had never seen such prices. While Jarvis wrote their order on the slip of paper, Janet gazed around at the people, who crowded the place. Most of them \yere types and very extreme types, at that. All were carelessly slung together, and many of the girls had short hair. "It's the real thing, isn't it, Jar vis?" said Janet, turning back to him. "Do you know any of them, dear?" "Not a soul so far," Jarvis re turned; but as he spoke a' tall girl in a black Tam o'Shanter and a mop of blond curly hair came over to their table and slipped into the seat next to Jarvis. She spoke quite without embarrassment and ignored Janet studiously. "I've been watching your face," she said interestedly; "you look like a newcomer here, and yet you seem like one of us." Jarvis laughed. "I haven't been here in a long while," he conceded easily. "Backslider, eh?" asked the girl. "Well, you might call it that," Jar vis returned. For a moment Janet had been surprised by the fact that this girl did not know Jarvis at all and yet had thought it perfectly natural to come up and talk to him. Janet was broad in a sense, but this ; freedom and unconventionality almost stag gered her; yet Jarvis seemed en tirely at home and used to this kind of thing. She felt hurt and angry that Jar vis made no effort to introduce her, and that the girl showed so plainly that she thought her a rank outsider. It was not very difficult for Janet to perceive why. She did not look like one of them. Her stunning tailored suit and rakish little hat - • - reads the story of a brave battle fought and lost. "Dear Monty," it ran. "I have been trying to reach you by phone off and on ever since the adjournment of our stockholders' meeting at three o'clock. We, of the little' inside pool, have got it where the chicken got the ax. Highlander had more proxies up his sleeve than we thought he had and he has put the steam roller over us to a llnish. He was able to vote 55 per cent, of the stock straight, and you know what that means; a consolidation With the Richland foundry trust, and the hearse and white horses for yours truly and the minority stockholders. We'he dead — dead and buried. "Of course, I stand to lose every thing, but that isn't all of it. I'm horribly anxious for fear you'll be smacked of Fifth avenue, as did her coral crepe waist. It made a de cided difference. But it did not take Janet long to decide what to do. If she had never been in this place before, no one else need know about it, and, swal lowing her stage fright, she turned nonchalantly to see who was sitting at her left. A girl, in almost shabby clothes, was eating spaghetti and talking, in between mouthfuls, to a sad-faced man who sat on the other side of her. She turned as though she felt that Janet was scrutinizing her. • "Hello!" Janet said impulsively. "Why don't you take me into your conversation when you see that I am being left out in the cold?" The girl laughed. Do you do anything?" she queried, looking closely at Janet's clothes. "I try to," Janet returned: "but it isn't much. I'm on The Chron icle.'" The girl turned to her instantly. "You are? Well, who would think it." "Thanks." Janet laughed merrily. "Well, you do look like one of the idle rich, and no mistake about it." "I don't think that's fair," Janet returned quickly. "I can work for my living and spend a little bit of it on clothes if I like, can't I?" The sad-eyed man who looked like a poet, smiled at this. "That is a pretty good argument," he returned. A girl came in with their order, and Janet helped herself, ignoring Jarvis and his companion. Jarvis spoke to her once, but she did not turn to ward him at all, and the rest of the meal she spent ,in • conversing, be tween mouthfuls,'to her new friends. The girl was studying art. She eked out a small allowance that she re ceived from home by doing odd jobs whenever she could get them. "1 hope I won't have to do it al ways," she confided to Jrfnet. Janet was intensely interested in meeting people this way. ' She saw that there was nothing unconven tional about them, apparently, but their free-and-easy manner of taking life. But their ideas were certainly different enough, and it was i such fun to sit there and eat and exchange thoughts like this. When she finally turned back to Jarvis her eyes were like stars. She saw that the blond girl had gone back to her table. '"Why didn't you introduce me to your friend?" she teased. "Or, if it isn't done down here, you might have prepared me a little. She must have been awfully prepossessed with you, boy. Tell me about her." (To Be Continued.) tangled up personally in some way in the matter of that last loan of SIOO,- "00 that I got from the Bank and Trust. You will remember you made the loan while Dunham was away, and 1 am certain you told me you had his consent to take my Foun dries stock as collateral. That part of it Is all right, but as matters stand the stock Isn't worth the paper it is printed on, and—well, to tell the bald truth, I'm scared of Dunham. Brickley, the Chicago lawyer they have brought down here, tells me that your bank is behind the con solidation deal, and if that is so, there is going to be a bank loss to show up on my paper, and Dunham will carefully cover his tracks for the sake of the bank's standing. (To Be Continued) MAT 17, 1917. LAYS BARE LIFE OF A "CHICKEN" Mrs. Wilson Woodrow Writes of Over-Painted, Under- Dressed Paraders "What is a chicken" asked Cousin Maria. The question might have seemed odd coming from one who lives In the country, but I comprehended the unseen quotation marks. " 'Behold her shadow on the floor; behold she waiteth at the door!' " I answered dramatically. I was glad Cousin Maria had asked, "What is a chicken?" and not, "Why is a chicken?" The first is easy; the sec ond is a problem for the Sphinx. Thus she appears at the mo ment. Beneath a high-crowned, wide, hat is an over-painted, over powdered little face; a bosom bared to the hazards or pneumonia within the V of a sleazy blouse, which is more V than blouse; a short-waisted coat and a red fox collar worn in happier days by pussy on the back fence; a painfully short, painfully narrow skirt; a wide gap of very thin silk stockings; white, lacod boots on stilts of heels, more or less run down. This, my lords and gentlemen and Cousin Maria, is the chicken. So she exists everywhere to-day. Her I "run" is no less Broadway in New York than Main street of every town in the country. Idle, flippant,' brain less, over-drcssed and under-dressed, she parades from three in the after noon until long after curfew, ex changing hackneyed bon mots with the loafers that she passes. To what end? 1 doubt if she herself knows. At that she is a shade more toler able than her masculine prototype, the youthful slacker of the pinch back coat and inevitable cigaret, | who recently swamped the marriage | license bureaus in his eagerness to I escape military service. The Chicken, as an individual, is I woith no more attention than a I single, silly, little grasshopper bob- I l'illg around in the sunshine. The I grasshopper serves no purpose in | the economy of nature that I ever hoard of, except to furnish a choice tidbit for some hungry, hovering hawk, or certain slimy, sinuous snakes which He in wait for prey, 'aivl the same might be said of the Chicken. It strikes me as I write that T am using rather heavy artillery on a "feeble folk " Far be it from me to break a butterfly upon a wheel. It is quite right and proper that i girl should desire admiration and good times and have them. It is natural and ri-iht (hat she should want to make herself pretty and attractive. It is natural and right that she should have all the enjoyment and romance and "music and moonlight and feel ing" that belong to the years, 'when all the world is young, lad, and all the trees are green." Not one not one ribbon, one strain of dance-music would I deprive her of. I only criticise her because I would like to see her more attrac tive, not less. I hope I may be com fortably cremated and out of the way before I join the ranks of those acidulous and withered moralists who regard a woman as a Jezebel because she dresses her hair in the prevailing mode and takes decent cia-e of her skin. And, further, if a Kill' is affected with irremediably sallow cheeks or colorless lips or a lack of eyebrows 1 would hasten to •say: "Get thee to a beauty parlor/ maid, and repair ilie defects. But artistically, remember; always ar tistically." That Is one reason why the | Chicken is a blot upon our civiliza tion. There are two, but the one ] under immediate consideration is j that she sins against Art. Nine times out of ten her fresh, fair complexion no more needs j rouge than does a tea rose. Neither I do her lips rcquiro that sticky car- I mine smear. By adopting such un necessary adjuncts she makes of herself a caricature. Youth needs | no masks. I The changing fashions of dress often seem strange to us; but 'as I the creations of great designers they | have undeniable lines of beauty, j Worn on the stage by actresses who | know how to present them with | restraint and good taste, even the | most extreme styles appear charm- I ing. But the Chicken knows noth- I ing of such sophistications as re • straint ayid good taste. She takes , fashion's steepest grades on "hngh," ! and so she becomes a joke, a distor-- j tion, a vulgarism. | Why is it then that her tribe so ! rapidly increases? "A, few years ago •she appeared only on Broadway, and j now she is indigenous to every town | which has cement sidewalks and a I Nickeleum. | The answer lies in the great pros perity which has spread over, the I country. Parents, instead of insist ing that their young daughters adopt some occupation, are allowing them to lead absolutely inane and idle lives, interested only in the search for some trifling amusement, simply because the family ilnances permit tt> and in deference to the outworn < traditions of what constitutes a day. And since Satan finds some mis chief still for idle hands to do, it ia inevitable that the girl should drift aimlessly into that daily prom enade along Main street, up and down, day after day, exchanging slangy banter with the boys she passes, a target for ogling eyes. If I were your fairy godmother, little Chicken, my good wish for you would not be that you should be less adventurous, but more so. There are wider paths than the "chicken run" of Main street. There are deeper thoughts than any you can gather from Mayme and Edythe and Flossie of the Chicken brigade. You may say, "I don't see any thing to do." There is this at least: Improve and cultivate your mind. TiCarn to let your heart beat in unison with the great, suffering heart of the world, so strongly throbbing now with the emotions and aspirations which are stirring mankind. Train your bodies to be strong and beautiful, instead of dis torting and weakening them. Far, with a world at war, the day may come when you will need all your strength and all your discipline. Jxt mo quote ybu a page that impressed itself on my memory years ago. I hope I can give it cor rectly. "We are of a race of women that ■of old knew no fear and feared no death; and if to-day some of us have fallen on evil and degenerate times, there moves in us yet the • throb of the old blood. If it be to day on no physical battlefield that We stand beside our men, and on no march through an external forest or morass that we have to lead, it is yet the old spirit which undlmmed by two thousand years stirs within us in deeper and subtler ways, it Is yet the cry of the old, free woman which makes the world to-day. Though the battle be now for us all in the laboratory or the workshop, in the forum or the study, in the as sembly and in the mart, with the ' pen and not the sword, of the head and not the arm, we still stand side by side with the men we love—to dare with them in war, and to suf- ' for with them In peace." ??? ? ? Why send your orders for Calling Cards, Announce ments, Wedding Invita tions, Place Cards, etc., to the larger cities and be obliged to wait for them from ten days to two weeks when you can have them done just as well in Harrisburg in half the time? ??? ? ? The Telegraph Printing Co. Printing, Binding, Designing, l'latc Printing, Ul Slumping, Photo tingmvlng HARRISBURG
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers