Life's Problems Are Discussed By MRS. WILSON WOOD ROW. When I go through my letters 1 ■usually liave a strong impression of the writer. It seems to pervade the written word; and 'this morning the people who are talking to me on paper are all of them sad. They write of their perplexities and diffi culties, of their wounds of the heart and soul. All of them are different, and yet in the last analysis of their problems are one. All covered by the famous exclamation: "To live is difficult. Oh, my heart is tired!" One girl who has but recently learned to write in English has sent me her pathetic history. It is told very crudely and brokenly, but this is it as I have made it out: She lived in a small, remote vil lage. When she was a mere child' j she suffered a great misfortune. In > her ftight and misery she turned to t )->er father and mother, and confessed \ the circumstances to them. The father, evidently a scheming, restless, villainous person, saw an opportunity to free himself from his responsibilities and home ties and to j gratify some ambitious and adven- j turous longings which he had been holding in mind. He, wanted to go to America, and he wanted to go un hampered by his family. He was afraid to desert them open ly, and so he went about through the village telling every one he met that he he.l discovered this circumstance in liis daughter's life that he was tilled with such unbearable shame and misery that he could no longer live in the old place anions his friends and companions, hut was determined to leave for America. And so he departed, leaving liis little girl to face all the scorn and humiliation which ignorance and su perstition and village savagery could heap upon her. Mother's Attempt to Take the Blame a \Viinteil Sacrifice Her mother, seeing the child's an guish and moved by some maternal passion of protection, attempted to lift the ignominy from her daughter j by stating that it was her wrong- i doing and not the girl's that had driven her husband away. When the j \ illage people asked her why he had 1 lamed the daughter instead of her- ' self, she said that he had been un- ! willing to admit his wife had fooled j himt It is needless to say that her sacri fice was wasted. Iter effort to re-| habilitate her daughter at her own expense failed. The village tribunal of gossips and loafers decided that they were both bad—creatures to be set'apart and tortured by abuse and mockery. Life became so hideous to the girl that she managed to get to this coun try, hoping to make a fresh start and begin all over again. In the strange- i ness and confusion of a new land she | Al lied to the relatives who were al- j %ady settled here. But the father j had seen them first, justifying his! own presence with the same story j he had told at home and thus poi soning their minds against her. She was once more treated as an outcast, left to make her way alone among an alien people and unaccus tomed surroundings—a scapegoat for the sins of others in the wilderness of the world. That is the bald story, as I gath ered it from her letter with son'.. ' ' i 7?*47"S THE 'pOlilSH"'' '' ! SHOE POLISHES 104 -BLACK-WHITE-TAN- 10$ FT.DaU^J^^NewYorkl. THURSDAY EVENING, Bringing Up Father Copyright, 1917, International News Service By McManus \ UJS DERST ME. DO DON'T FVPM ~ 11 rsrrrsoj r— to r L ■ 1 i:..Z3' :* difficulty. A crude, little letter and | not easy to decipher, which brought | tears to my eyes and made my heart l burn. I can only hope that she has i the spirnt and the determination not , to be crushed and humbled by the ; suffering she has been forced to un- j dergo. She has youth, and youth is resiii- ; cnt with great powers of recupera- I tion. I hope it will enable her to j make' a "fresh start." And I hope she will develop enough strength of character and independence not to go ; through life dragging with her the j ball and chain of past misfortunes j and griefs. , Father 'Welcomed by Friends Wlio ■ Should Have Mndc Him nil Outcast And the irony of tine situation. | something to make the high gods j laugh, is that this father, who not j only went from pillar to post, blab bing of his daughter's tragedy, but actually made capital out <>f it, was j received and welcomed jy his friends when he should have had a millstone j hung about his neck and have been j cast into the depths of the sea. It would be a still greater irony. I yet a perfectly possible one, if this ( friendless, homeless girl should achieve such a success of character < and worldly circumstances that both j he and these harsh and hard rela-i tives would lie glad of her acquaint- ! ance. • The art of life is the art of for-J getting. I heard a woman say that J she was resolved to forget all the, syd and mournful tilings that hall j ever occurred to Iter and remember only the beautiful and bright ones. I It was a wise decision. Why should'| we walk in the shadow of "old, un happy, far-off things?" We've got to run our race, and it certainly is the part of wisdom .to stand ready to run it free from all unnecessary clogs i and weights. Freedom of action is good, but freedom of thought is better. And' we are never really free so long as we tie ourselves by memories and tears, or resentments and hates, to a doleful past. We can't go back and live one day over again: so regrets and remorse are both useless. The one thing, the only sensible thing, to do about yes terday is to forget it. If there was yesterday, It is equally true there is always to-morrow. All's Well That End? Well BY JANE M'LEAX But really 1 don't want to go." I j "Don't be silly, EUie. you'll have a | ! grand time. And you just bought I that new hat, too. It will be just the j I thing to wear." i The eyea of the first speaker j brightened. After all, she was very, i young, and had not enough money! to have many good times. It was a temptation. The remainder of the new hat acted like magic, too. Per haps the wily temptress had known i i this when she made the remark. 1 "She s going to be a sport, girls; j ! she really is," said one of the girls, j j eyeing the downcast face eagerly. ; "(,'ee, it isn't everyone who makes j | such a. hit with a swell fellow the: ! very first time he sets eyes on her." | "That's right," from one of the! j others. "Oh, I'll go," said Elsie, giving j in at last. "1 know I oughtn't to, but I never have any good times." I "And it's all your pwn fault,"' | chimed in one of the three. "Well I don't care this time. I'll 1 be ready on time, girls, you needn't j I worry." Her First Surrender. The other three trooped down the' hall of the cheap boarding house, leaving Elsie to get into her clothes. Elsie had decided to go this once, and to forget all about the fact tha.t she owned a conscience. Not that she contemplated doing anything really wrong, but she hated to do as the other girls did in order to have a good time. Until now she had held out. and now that she had surren dered she was not going to be glum! about it. At seven o'clock, attired in a sim-j pie little blue dress and the newj hat and warmly wrapped in a heavy i coat she followed the other three | girls down and the four were bun dled into a big touring car. "This is Miss Bigelow, Mr. Paine,"! gigled one of the girls, making the! introduction in her own way." Elsie found herself pitting in rath er cramped quarters with a very good-looking young chap who looked down into her eyes, with ad miration in his own. "Well, it's about time we met," ho said audaciously. "Now tliat you've decided to unbend a bit we ought to have some good times." Elsie smiled a little uncertainly. I Fashions of To-Day - By May Manton 1 1 9525 Dren with Tunic, 16 and 18 years. Price 15 cent*. HARJF&SBURG TELEGRAPH! She was used to light badinage and hardly knew how to reply flippantly as the others were doing. To the "Utile Inn" "Well," said the youth, who was, 'driving, "where shall it be? Down ! at the little inn?" "Oh yes!" they all shouted in j chorus. "Ever been there?" questioned Elsie's cavalier, who hud slipped his I arm comfortably about the seat be ! hind her. I Slie shook her head. "Great little place; you'll like it." And then he turned to one of the other girls and made a light remark j which evoked shrieks of laughter. The big car was driven rather ! recklessly, and long before they had j reached the little inn in question Elsie had begun to feel nervous. J Once they had darted across a ruil ! road track just in front of a train, 1 and she had cried out. The others I had only laughed. "She's afraid," one of them jeered. | "Well she hasn't been out much," j put in another. Elsie had not re | plied, but she had shivered, and the j youth next to her had slipped his j arm around her waist. I She was glad when they finally l drew* up at the little inn, but by I the lime they were ready to go on 1 again she was more afraid than ever. ! The boy who was driving had had j more than he should have had to drink. This time she was really afraid, particularly as he paid so little at tention to the driving and insisted on making love to the girl who sat with him. "Don't be frightened," said the man next to her, comiortingly. tiut she had drawn away from him and was sitting with tightly clasped fing ers waiting for something to happen. The Crash Comes And it did happen. As they were j driving recklessly around a curve I they struck a little stone bridge. It ! was unexpected, and the car did ljot j right itself. There was a dizzy mo j ment. and then it plunged over into I j the ditch. Elsie, who had been expecting it, ; rolled safely over and under the ! bridge itself. She was conscious of | one thing, and that was that she I was not hurt. Something intuitive forced her to do as she did, for without stopping to think she began to run across country in the direction from which they had come. Long before slic was out of earshot she looked fear somely behind her and saw a crowd collecting. She kept saying over and over to The cape of this little frock is optional, and it can be made lo be attached with snap fas tenings, therefore, you can use it for a street dress and for indoor wear with equal smart ness. There are a number of interesting features in the de sign. ' The cape and the surplic? band, the raised waist line at the front and the tunic, all are new features. The model is charming for any material which is soft enough to be made full with success, or if you like, you could make the skirt of a "dif ferent material, as charmeuse or taffeta with georgette crepe for the remainder of the dress. In the picture silk voile is trimmed with bands of satin. The color is the new one known as beet root, and the collar and cuffs are of white georgette crepe to give a very dainty effect. You will notice that the buttons are of the satin. They make another feature for made buttons of the sort and are to be generally used in the Autumn. For the 16-yepr size will be needed, 6)4 yards of material 36 inches or yards 44 inches wide with h /% of a yard for the collar and cuffs. The pattern 9525 is cut in sizes for 16 and 18 years. It will be mailed to any address by the Fashion Department oi this paper, on receipt of fifteen cents. ] herself: "If I can get away. I'll never I do it again." She kept running on, j blindly, as she gasped the words. liUck was certainly with her, for I she reached a railroad station and j stumbled In. There was a train for j the city in eighteen minutes. Elsie never forgot that next morn ing when she anxiously pored over Winter Cloud! Immediate Delivery! / \ Be modern! You can get it the same day The designs are most stylish The price of any car of course Drive one of these closed cars! you wish for it. and the interior furnishings is meaningless except in In addition, by planning and elegant. proportion to what it pro- You can get a four or six cyl- buying materials when cures, inder, Sedan or Coupe at prices ruled much lower, we You want complete satisfac once• are able tosellthesequality tion for your money— The Overland price magnifies Ordinarily, you have waited cars at prices that otherwise the value of these closed until bad weather had you would be impossible now. And this means no essential . .. • i_ r j_• . , , , . J cars because, in proportion, in its grip, before ordering These two advantages war- element can be lacking in . . , your closed cor. ra „, you fa ordering your your closed car. they give so much more in We anticipated this condition Overland car at once. genume value, sattsfacton; and prepared for it. Of course, these cars are con- * n Overland closed cars every service, conveniences and Your handsome and elegant- vertible. necessary and desirable authentic styles, ly finished closed car, now Side windows and uprights feature is provided for ready for immediate de- fold away out of sight when performance, appearance, Let the Willys-Overland livery, is the happy result. you want an open car. comfort and price. dealer show you! Model Eighty-Five Four /. „. b. Toledo -Tax free Model Eighty-Five Light Six Sedan $1485 Coupe $1285 subject to advance without notice Sedan $1620 Coupe $1420 Newport 919 91 A M.uL C I Ct York tfrnnehi Oi>i>. Hull road Station INotill uCCOIIQ JU 12S-130 \V. Market St. Service Station and I*nrt Department. I'tltli ami Dcrry SI". the paper. Two of the men had been killed—the driver and one other. The names of all were given, and two of the girls were in a seri ous condition at the hospital. "One i girl escaped unhurt," the account ran. "'-'lie must have run ierr>-s the j fields in an effort to avoid publicity. Her name was not discovered." NOVEMBER 8, 1917.' KKI.IKK WORK IN FRANCE Paris. Temporary repairs on buildings in certain sections of the liberated area of France sufficient to enable returned refugees to remain in their homes through the winter have been undertaken by the Bureau of Reconstruction and Relief of the American Red Cross. Work was re cently begoin at Croix, near Nesle, and it is hoped to complete the task in that village, Molignaux and Ma tigny within one month. The bureau is also preparing plans for relief work in other villages. 7
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers