I "When a Girl "
By ANN USLK
A New, Romantic Serial Dealing With the Absorbing
Problems of a Girl Wife
Chapter CCXXIV.
(Copyright, 1919, King Features
Awidicate, Inc.
vs I rushed down the path to
~v river, I couldn't hear a sound
"wept the slap-slap of water against
\> boat landing. When 1 came at
to the water's level there stood
Torn Mason, staring at the bend of
the river where an upturned cance
was just floating into sight.
He turned to me with a quiet that
seemed to belie the mad words ho
had uttered a moment before, and
aid.
"The water starts sucking things
down just below here. You'd see
the canoe pulled down into the
whirlpool in a second if I didn't go
after it and paddle upstream to find
Uie woman who screamed."
He was flinging off coat and shoes
he spoke, and in another mo
ment he would have plunged Into
current, but a shout stopped
"dim. Close to the bank, tacking
across stream to avoid the treach
erous currents, a man supporting
a woman swam toward us. Tom
seemed to understand the shouts or
the plan and ran at once to the
boat landing. The sun was in my
eyes, and for a second I wasn't able
to make out the figures.
Suddenly the world seemed to
turn black and to whirl about me.
for I saw that it was X'eal who
swam laboriously toward us, and he
was towing Evvy with one arm. In
another moment Tom was lifting
Evvy's figure to the landing,
and I was helping him drag Xeal
to safety.
"Is she —alive?" gasped Xeal.
Vigorously Tom seized Evvy and
prepared to roll her over on her
face, but just then Evvy stirred,
opened her wide blue eyes and
murmured:
"Xeal, Xeal—are you all right,
dear?"
"Of course he is," I replied,
stepping into Evvy's line of visioß.
"It's you we were worrying about."
Whereupon a frown puckered
Evvy's brows and her face took on
a sulky expression that almost made
me burst out laughing, for I could
imagine her muttering to herself.
"Pshaw! A girl- doesn't come near
drowning in such good company
every day. Xow why do you have
to butt in on the rescue?",
In that absurd interlude, when
nothing was said. Evvy and I came
pretty near understanding each
other. Then Xeal fell on his knees
at Evvy's side and was absurdly
chafing her wrists.
"Can you walk, or shall I carry
you?" he asked through chattering
teeth.
"Help me, please, dear," said
Evvy, conducting herself as if her
couiSn and X'eal's sister weren't
there.
So, with Tom and me bringing up;
the rear in grave silence, we start
ed on for home. Presently, when
we got to the top of the river path.
Evvy stopped. leaning weakly
against Xeal's broad young shoulder.
"You two go first. I can't walk
so fast," she murmured.
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TUESDAY "EVENING,
"Shan't I carry you?" suggested
Tom.
"Oh, no—Tommle. You and Anne
go ahead and have them get hot
blankets ready. I'll not give in be
cause I have a dance on to-night and
I wouldn't disappoint all of you for
the world. Wasn't Xeal wonderful
—the way he saved me?" '
I'd never seen a half-drowned per
son before, but Evvy mantled in
trailing yellow locks and patheti
cally leaning on Xeal, looked to me
more like part of a stage setting
than a girl who had been saved
from death at the edge pf a mill
race.
Xeal was quiet and solemn now.
Actually, he seemed terrified as he
strolled along back of us with Evvy
clinging to him. I wanted to baby
hint and to tell him that everything
was a'l right, but the pathetic Evvy
held the center of the stage and I
couldn't oust her from it.
To Tom I said nothing. I couldn't.
We hurried up to the house breath
lessly and gave our orders. Ther.
I sat waiting for a moment, along
with Xeal. I got it. after Tom had
tucked him into hot blankets where
be lay looking like a solemn young
water spaniel.
"Have you seen her? Is she all
right. Babbs?" he asked in a tone
that had peculiar weariness in it.
"I was waiting outside your door
to see if you were all right, lad,"
I explained. "Mrs. Cosby's wish
Evvy and Jim too—l think."
"Oh. I'm all right," retorted Xeal
impatiently waving himself aside
with a vague gesture. "It's Evvy
who counts —poor little Evvy. It
was all „ my fault, Babbs. If she'd
died. I'd have killed her. I—l—we
were talking and I hurt her, upset
her sort of and she started to get
her handkerchief or something, and
then all of a sudden we were in the
water. It's a terrible responsibility
for a fellow I— almost drowning a
girl."
"Well, maybe you upset Evvy. but
it seems to me that it was Evvy
who upset the beat," I replied try
ing to laugh it off. "She's perfectly
nil right. Xow why don't you take
a litt'e nap before dinner? You've
nothing to worry about. You were
a hero and saved her."
"You think that makes up for
anything?" asked Xeal sitting up
among the pillows and seizing my
hand.
\ "Of course." I replied, pushing
him down among the pillows again
and kneeling with my head beside
his red curls so sleek and disciplined
now. Then I whispered, "X'eal, dar
ling—l've such good news for you.
I was with Phoebe yesterday for
lunch. And I think she—l think
if you were to be very nice—Oh.
X'eal. laddie, what's the use of beat
ing about the bush? Phoebe still i
cares for you. Isn't that wonder-!
ful?"
With astonishing strength Neai
pushed me away and turned on his
side so that his face was buried
among the pillows and his voice
came to me muffled by the bed
clothes:
"Babbs. I'm all in. All In." he
Bringing Up Father Copyright, 1918, International News Service f ' By McManus
IUI I I ( DEAR DO T1 HI I ITS OUftTVENT>( FIFTH ] J--X LI 1 £ ■c :
'M l vy hoUKNOW, SORE- (L AHNIVEWW WHAT A I I YOU HAVEN'T US J 5 T "
ft 1/5k / V I WHAT DAY IT'S littue <irl r HsH YOU WORM: £ it
... \ - i i "
repeated. "Go way, dear, and let mo
think—sleep, I mean."
"Neal!" 1 murmured leaning over
him. "Tell Babbs. Let Babbsie
help you."
There was no answ'er. So after a
moment or two I tiptoed away.
Before I had taken half a dozen
steps down the hall I heard the
key turn in the look of Neal's door.
I went back and shook it, but
there was no ansewr.
(To Be Continued.)
Daily Dot Puzzle
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15 • 18 17 '!
• 8 7 2 - .14
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Draw from one to two and so on
to the end.
"ttXHKIBBURG I3pXSKXPS
THE LOVE GAMBLER
By Virginia Terhune Van de Water
CHAPTER XVIII. J
| (Copyright, 1919, Star Company.) i
! More than once on Sunday even- !
! ing, David reminded himself that a i
t woman of Miss Bristol's type would
not give a second glance to an ordin
-1 ary chauffeur.
It was necessary to his peace of I
mind that he belives this. For after
driving Mr. and Miss Leighton to !
White Plains and Scarsdale to make
several afternoon calls, he received
an order that took his breath away. ■
"Smith," Mr. Leighton said as he
and Desiree stepped from the lim- j
ousine, "I want you to be at the j
Hotel Astor in time to bring a lady j
here to supper. Daughter," to De- j
siree. "what time did you tell Miss
Bristol to be ready?"
"At a quarter of seven," the girl j
replied. Then- to David, —"Just send j
in word that the car is there for j
Miss Bristol. Understand?"
"Yes, Miss." David touched his
cap. "I understand."
"As if he could misunderstand!"
he mused as he drove away. He
was certainly facing an uncomfort
able situation.
It was only 6 o'clock, yet dusk
was coming on. In three-quarters
of an hour it would be dark.
What good wp.s the darkness in
New York? , One could be seen as
clearly as daylight if one stood |
at the side of one's oar in front of
a brilliantly lighted hotel entrance.
What should he do?
He was not a drinking man. Had \
he been, he might have taken a
glass of whisky in the vain hope
of steadying his nerves. But he
had a conviction that there was a
way out of every scrape, so there
must be one out of this.
The way upon which he decided
at last was to appear remiss in his
duties as the driver of a gentle
man's car. Therefore—after send
ing in by the doorman at the Astor
the announcement that Mr. Leigh
ton's car was awaiting Miss Bris
tol—he returned to his seat and re
mained there, his cap pulled low
over his eyes, even when Miss Bris
tol emerged, polited by an obse
quious flunkey.
He looked straight ahead while
the attendant assisted the elderly j
spinster to her seat and tucked the
robe about her knees. When David
i heard the door of the limousine
! shut he started his engine and
without a backward glance, drove
out to Fifth avenue.
So far so good! Miss Bristol had
not recognized him.
But the end was not yet. As he
drove up to the Leightons' house
and glanced at the windows there
was nobody watching for the guest.
It was his place to conduct her up
the steps and ring the bell for her.
It was too great a risk. He dare
not attempt it. Acting on a swift
impulse, he sprang from his seat,
ran up the steps of the house and
rang the doorbell.
Norah answered the summons.
She smiled broadly as she saw him.
"Why, hello. Smith!" she greeted
him.
Her face changed as she noted
the stern expression on the coun
tenance of the man she admired.
"Good evening!" he said brusque
ly. "Please announce that Mist
Bristol is here."
He Tries to Smile
Norah gasped. "Sure I will—but
it's up to you to bring her up the
steps to the door. Smith."
David set his jaw. "I can't," he
declared. Then, with a happy in
spiration, he spoke eagerly. "No
rah, come down and help this lady
up the steps, won't you?"
"But it's not my place," she be
gan.
"Just to please me," he begged
softly.
She flushed and laughed. "Oh,
all right!" she agreed. "I will, but
whatever ails you—you silly thing!"
He tried to smile. He must give
some explanation.
"I'm a bit timid with old ladies,
my dear," he confided.- "You know
better how to manage them than a
clumsy man like myself does. So
that is why I want you to come out
and help this nice elderly lady into
the house."
Suddenly, to her husprise, his
manner altered. Seizing her quickly
by the arm, he ran- down the front
steps with her, then-, leaving her.
crossed the pavement, and sprang
back into his seat while she opened
the cardoor and helped the occu
pant to alight. #
Once seated, he looked neither to
the right nor the left. In the mo
ment during whichhe had been
chatting with Norah. he had seen
his young mistress descending the
stairs to the lower hall.
That was why he had gripped
/Corah's arm and hastened her away
before Desiree could Interpose.
Although he was sure that Desiree
had seen his action, that did not
worry him particularly. His only
fear had been that she would reach
the front door before >he maid had
a chance to follow "his suggestion.
when Miss Bristol had disap
peared Into the house, David De-
Lalne sat still and waited. Had he
tak-en the guest up to the front door.
Miss Leighton would doubtless have
told him when to return. As it was.
he must now ring the bell again and
ask for orders.
He wished he dared to drive awa
without further Instructions. But
that would be unwise.
Once more he rang, and again
Norah appeared- J
I "Oh," she said confidently, "it's
good you came back. Miss Leigh
ton was just rraying it was queer
j you had not asked for your orders
! for to-night"—
She stopped abruptly as Desiree
j came out of the drawing room.
"You may go," Norah," she said
sharply. Then, coldly, to David:
"Smith, be back here with the car
to take Miss Bristol to her hotel at
i 10 o'clock."
After which, without another
| word, she returned to the drawing
i room.
(To be Continued.)
i
DAILY HINT ON
FASHIONS
A PRETTY DRESS FOR MOTH
ER'S GIRL
•
2835—This model is good for chal
lie, lawn, dimity, batiste, voile, silk,
linen, percale and other wash goods.
A plaited panel joins the side fronts
of this model, which are ciK to form
a pointed yoke over the center front.
The Pattern is cut in 4 sizes: 2, 4,
6 and 8 years. Size 6 requires 3 1-4
yards of 27-inch material.
A pattern of this illustration
mailed, to any address on receipt of
10 cents in silver or stamps.
Telegraph Pattern Department
For the 10 cents inclosed please
send pattern to the following
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A Short Visit With
a Lasting Memory
"I never know- what to make for
dessert when the maid's away," said
Mrs. Martin as she glanced at the
clock, and put aside her sewing.
"Let me get It for you," said Mrs.
Blair who was visiting her for a few
days. "I'd love to do it."
Dinner time came, and Mrs. Blair,
who had insisted on making the des
sert with utmost secrecy, left the
table and returned with a rich, brown
chocolate blanc mange.
"Tastes even better than It looks,"
said Mrs. Martin delightedly. "How
did you make it?"
"Why it's Puddine," replied Mrs.
Blair mysteriously, "wonderful Pud
dine."
"I insist upon knowing all about It.
Where did you get it. and what is it?"
laughed her friend. -
"I'll tell you. I slipped out and got
it as your grocer's." said Mrs. Blair.
"Jack loves cornstarch pudding and if
there was one thing I couldn't make,
it was cornstarch pudding or blanc
mange. Then I heard of Puddine."
"Is it hard to make, or expensive?"
interrupted Mrs. Martin.
"Oh. no, indeed. All you have to do
is to add milk, either fresh or con
densed, and sugar, and boll fqr three
minutes. Then when It's cool, you
have a firm, rich mound of delicious
creamy dessert. And a 16c box of
Puddine will serve 15 people.
"The only thing is," objected Mrs.
Martin, "the children are not so fond
of chocolate, and 1 guess, it's really
too rich for them anyhow."
"Oh. no." exclaimed Mrs. Blair. "It
Isn't too rich. Why, it's so pure and
wholesome you can let them have aa
much as they want —and It comes in
any number of flavors—rose vanllia,
orange, lemon —and you can make all
sorts of things with Puddine—creamy
cake and pie fillings, and smooth ice
cream."
"That being the case." smiled Mr.
, Martin, who had listened to their con
versation with Interest, ."I vote for
Puddine. It certainly Is good."
Puddine can be had at your gro
cer's! Order a box to-day! — Adv.
Brain Works For Hand
in Century of Machinery
Among other results the world war
hastened and force,i the development
of machinery well nigh to the tenth
power. But for the intensified im
provement of labor-saving machinery
humanity would despair and desist
from the task of meeting the world's
needs to-day. Yet less than 100 years
ago men were opposing the introduc
] tion of machinery on principle, the
Baltimore Sun says. The human hand
is still the most wonderful and adapt
able machine. But compare the re
sults of the old labor and the new.
A hand brickmaker. assisted by
four or five helpers, can mold about
500 bricks an hour. By hard and con
tinuous work through a season of
twenty weeks this man would pile
up to his credit 500.000 bricks. This
record is, however# easily beaten by
a brick-making machine, which, even
fifty years ago, could press 1500
bricks an hour.
The best files are still made by
hand, but a great many machine-made
files are passed off as hand-made. The
manual worker toilfully and patient
ly cuts each line of the file with
hammer and chisel.
Figures show that in ten working
hours an industrious file-cutter de
livered 46,000 blows, the majority of
them with a hammer weighing seven
and a half pounds, so that his total
effort for the day was equivalent to
moving 142 tons the distance of one
hammer's stroke.
The file-cutting machine delivers
its powerful cuts almost 'as rapidly
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I and Exhausted— |
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A DELICIOUS, HEALTHFUL BEVERAGT The good work does not stop
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II I 1 |BB| 818 CLOVERDALE GINGER ALE can be had in
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tfj I I BgCHBI B H or the bottle from leading grocers, d-uggists and
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SB Copyrighted. 11. by ClorertUle Spring Oa
JUNE 17,1919.
as a sewing machine thrusts its
needle up and down—that is, at the
rate of 1000 or more strokes a minute.
All mariner of nice adjustments ciCn
be made to suit the character of the
file in the machine. The result has
been a great cheapening of the or
dinary kinds of files. One of the
very earliest successful machines re
duced the cost of a file to about one
eighth of that of the earicr hand
made ones.
Spinning by hand is now scarcely
known. The Australian aborglnes
twist thread with the finger and
thumb as a shoemaker sometimes
twists twine.
A certain Norfolk lady named
Pringle spun a pound of wool into
84,000 yards of thread, or nearly
forty-eight miles. But this perform
ance was far excelled by that of Miss
Ives of Spalding, who spun, .we are
told, the same weight of wool into
168,000 yards, or ninety-five and one
half miles of yarn. These results are
very exceptional. Ordinary spinners
produced only from' 13,000 to 40,000
yards a pound.
DAY AND NIGHT SCHOOL
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The latter results are well within
the capacity of modern spinning ma
chines. A medium count of cotton
yarn contains, let us say, forty hanks
to the pound, a hank being 840 yards.
This gives us 33,600 yards to the
pound.
Envelopes were at first made by
hand, but machinery waa soon adapt
ed to the work. The first of these
was a cutter, which cut out a pile
of blank shapes at one operation.
These blanks were folded and gum
med by hand, the folder using a sort
of bone knife. A skillful workman
could turn out about 3000 envelopes
a day.
In a comparatively short time, how
ei er, a machine was perfected which
not only folded and gummed the en
velopes, but embossed, pressed,
counted and stacked them, and its
output was about 3,000 an hour.
At every turn we see the hands
and the brain pitted against each
other, and the brain la ever taking
work from the hands to the advan
tage of the world.—Knoxville Senti
nel.
7