Richmond Palladium (Daily), Volume 38, Number 253, 1 September 1913 — Page 8

rAGE EIGHT

THE RICHMOND PALLADIUM AND SUN-TELEGRAM, MONDAY, SEPT. l, nl3. PALLADIUM'S MAGAZINE AND HOME PAGE A BACHELOR'S DIARY THE THREE OF 'EM BETTY AND DANNY AND BILLY By Nell Brinkley

By MAX. AUGUST 14. I have decided that the chief difference between the trained nurse and the unskilled nurse is the salary and the uniform. Richards, who was a green country girl when I employed her to serve as nursemaid for Elizabeth and Manette, and whose only knowledge of illness was gained through their childish complaints, is just as skillful in her care of me as the uniformed nurse and infinitely more patient. Not that I would accuse the trained nurse of being impatient; she is never that, but somehow her patience is purely mechanical. It is set by machinery, and when a certain amount of attention has been clipped off for me, the machinery comes to a dead etop. And I know then that it is time for her to take her morning or afternoon hour off. "If I were dying," I said to her this morning, "and the clock struck three, what would you do?" "Put on my hat and go for my walk," she replied very professionally. 'I owe it to myself to take care of myself. Besides, I have seen too many persons die to be interested." "Does it distress you?" The subject had always interested me. "No, only bothers me. The manner in which the living take on is trying to my nerves." "Then you have no personal feeling for your patient?" "Sometimes. When they are millionaires like you, and unmarried, there is always the chance of the helpless man falling in love with his nurse and marrying her. That is the real incentive that leads many women to adopt the profession." THE SCRUTINY. "Come around here where I can look at you," I commanded. "If that is the motive that actuated you in putting on the uniform, I -want to get a square look at you so that I can see what I am up againBt." "She laughed, and, evidently not afraid the bright light would injure her chances, threw up the blind before she took a seat beside my bed. I saw a red-cheeked, blue-eyed blonde; the bluest eyes, and the reddest cheeks and mouth. Her hair had just enough curl to it to be tantalizing, and when I raised my hand and brushed back a lock that had strayed out from under her cap, she smiled. "It's naturally curly," she said. "How about this?" I asked, pinching her cheek. "The color is natural, too." "You are a good looking woman," I announced in the manner of one who has taken an inventory; "I don't see what the doctor meant by ordering me a pretty attendant like you'" She laughed. "Would you prefer that I went away?" "No," grasping her hands. "I want you to stay. There is something about your hands like. They are so strong and so firm. I rather like to hold them in the night, but I don't want to marry you." "No?" with pretty eyebrows raised. "No," I replied, "I don't. It win be interesting to smash tradition by refusing to fall in love. Your beauty doesn't attract me, and my wealth doesn't attract you." "Of course not," another laugh. "No man's wealth ever attracted a woman." "You are saying that in sarcasm," I replied, slipping my arm around her deck that she might lift me to a more comfortable position. "The truth is, it is the lodestar of every woman's life." She had lifted me higher on the pillows, but I did not remove my arm from around her neck. "Now, I said, "that we understand each other, I don't see why we can't be very good friends. You are not to fall In love with me, and I won't fall In lore with you." "Won't you?" with her blue eyes elose to mine. "No'stubbornly, shutting my eyes tight. "I won't." "Won't you?" her face a little nearer. "No," trying to turn my head. "I won't." "It must be fine," I added, when she had slipped my arm from her neck and had taken her seat by the bed, and I had gotten my rather riotous nerves under control, "to be a poor man and find a woman whose love doesn't depend on his bank account." "There is no such thing," hastening to give me my medicine, for the hour had come. "I don't know what that is you are giving me," holding her hand with the spoon away from my mouth, but it ought to be for fever. You are a fine nurse, you are, throwing a patient into a fever like this. I shall complain to the doctor about it." "I am not afraid," putting the spoon

1 kmMm W M C WW oil.. ,, iW i j J V

HERE they are the three of 'em. They sing through all my days. Nobody seems ever to get tired of the sentimental tale of a Man and a Girl and Love ! Sometimes I think I do when I'm stumped for an idea and I lean my head on my hand and my brain goes round and round yet always comes back to the three that seem to flicker behind all my days a Betty, a Billy, and Danny. I appeal for an idea to my mother, or the Gentle Cynic. My mother smiles and puts her brown head to one side. "Why, make a picture of a Man, a Girl and Love !" And she ends up triumphantly as though she had thought of something new. And the Cynic gives me an amused look from the bachelor face of him and says, "Oh, make a picture of a Man, Love and a Girl!" He thinks he HASN'T thought of anything new. And they're both right. It's new and it's old. And there I go making a picture that holds the darling three of them Betty and Billy and Danny whatever the idea.

Here they are with no idea behind just the three actors, making their little bow. She is sometimes blond, sometimes gypsy-dark. Always her mouth is full and luring. She walks with the grace of the wind in the grasses. There are always little lines that make her fairy-like on her high-instepped feet. And she is always in love. Danny is a "wishtful," warm-bodied slip of a boy sometimes called cherub. He has a slow and melting eye and a taking way with him. He is greedy of hearts. He is the big actor in the drama and even when he is in only a moving picture where he'll never hear their praise the people clap and whistle. And if you've once had his rose-leaf, steel-strong hand around your heart, you'll remember it, I swear! He looks a jolly outlaw. Billy is why, he's the Man. Lots of men don't like him but the girls all do. I wonder what that means. A blond

man wondered to me, roughing up his Viking, goldy mop, "Why, you make his hair forever BLACK!" Maybe I have a tender spot for black hair because my own is blond. But that isn't the whole reason the why of it is most practical and earthy I make it black because I need a black spot in the picture so many times and his head often is the only place for it. And when the picture cries aloud for BLACK, why Billy's blond head must go. He is the actor with the yearning eyes, the eagle nose, the tender mouth. And he follows Betty with wide arms the world around, crying, "Come to me, picture girl life up your lips tome!" He's always in love, too. It's a mutual admiration affair "arms all 'round! Here they are, the three of them the pawns that I move about in different figures day by day.

at my lips, "that you will tell any one,

You see," quickly handing me a glass of water, "I know all about the men." "How did you learn?" suspiciously. "Is there a special treatment prescribed for my sex at your training school?" "I have read all about you," with another laugh, "in the doctor books." Then she bathed my face, remarking professionally as she did it, that my color was better, lowered ray pillows much against my will, smoothed the coverlid, pulled down the blinds and ordered me to take a nap. A BEGINNING. "I will sit outside on the veranda within call," she announced, "and if you need me you can touch the bell." She left the room so quietly and quickly that she was gone before I could detain her. There are many qualities I like about her, and her quickness and quietness of manner are among them. There would be less domestic friction if every woman stepped as lightly and spoke as softly as tht. woman. A soft step and a sweet, low voice and a certain repose of manner never got on any tired and irritable man's nerves. She had reached the veranda. I

heard Mrs. Allen ask her if I had fallen asleep, and did not wait to hear her reply. I rang the bell. In another minute she was beside me. "You said to ring if I needed you. I need you to sit right here by me till I fall asleep." "But you will not fall asleep with me lwre." "I am so very tired," a little wearily, and holding tight to her hand as if to dismiss the argument, "that I am sure I v -" And I did. And I dreamed well, I won't tell you, Diary, what I dreamed. You are nothing but a collection of dry paper leaves and wouldn't understand.

MARRIED LIFE SECOND YEAR

ASK ANY MAN. Gladys Mamma, when people get married, are they made into one." Mamma Yes. dear. Gladys Which one? Mamma Oh, they find that out afterward, darling.

Australia is irrigating more than two million acres of grazing lands with artesian wells.

By MABEL HERBERT URNER. THAT Delia was an excellent cook, a rapid worker, and scrupulously ciean, was quickly shown. But she was very rullen and wanted to do the work in her own way without interference or instruction. For the first two days Helen left her undisturbed. It was the third morning that she took a couple of baby's dresses and a tiny woolen sack and laid them on the kitchen table. "As soon as you are through with the dishes I should like you to wash these out. You can use the white soap and tepid water don't have it too warm." Delia neither answered or turned around. Helen went back into the nursery feeling that the warfare had begun. Would she wash them out or would she not? She purposely refrained from going into the kitchen for several hours. When she did Delia was calmly polishing the silver, and the baby's clothes lay untouched on the table. "Why, Delia, you forgot those little

dresses 1 would like them washed at once." Delia's only answer was a more viborous polishhur of the silver. And again Helen left the kitchen to await developments. At one o'ciock Delia came to her door with a curt: "Your luncheon's ready, ma'em. It was a delicious little luncheon of salad, toast and fruit. But Helen could not enjoy it tor wondering, "had she washed out those things?" DELIA REFUSES TO SURRENDER. It was not until after three, when Helen heard her leave the kitchen, than she ventured in again. Everything was in perfect order and the place was exquisitely clean The shades were drawn to show that the work was done for the afternoon. But there on the corner cf the table stili lay the little dresses. Delia had not touched them. It was an unmistakable defiance. She had said, when she came, that she expected to do no washing. And now rhi? was calmly refusing to do it. Helen was angry very angry, she would

make her come back and wash out those dresses. She started towards Delia's room and then stopped. Did she want to risk bringing things to an issue in this way? Should Delia refuse, now, she would have to discharge her. And she did not want to do that. She resolved to wait until Delia went back to the kitchen, to get dinner. She was more than ever determined that she should be obeyed. Dlia had carried off successfully her refusal to wear a cap. But her disobedience must end there. It was half past four when she again heard her moving about in the kitchen. When she opened the door Delia was comfortably seated at the table peeling potatoes. "Delia, did you forget to wash out those little dresses?" No answer. "Did you forget about these dresses?" Helen repeated sternly. Delia mumbled something about "not doin' washin'." For only a second Helen hesitated. Then she walked over, took the pan of potatoes from Delia's lap and said very quietly. '"You had better wash those out now. I want them to dry before night.

I'll peel the potatoes while you'r ! wa.ihint; thf m." A CRITICAL MOMENT. It was a critical moment and Helen was uncertain as thTh outcome. Delia was taen entirely by surprise. She started to speak then stopper!. There was something in Helen's quiet ! determination that rnide her realize this was final. Silently and sullenly ; she took up the little dresses and prepared to wash them out. "Ycu had better wash the little jacket first," said Helen pleasantly, "and don't have the water warm enough to shrink it." Delia s sulky silence was somewhat disconcerting. But having won her point. Helen, womanlike, was prepared to be generous. She wanted to say something to make Delia feel lest suiitn and resentful. As she was trying to formulate jutt what to say, the telephone rang. Helen dropped the potatoes and hurriefi to answer it. It was Warren. Uncle Joe and Aunt Sarah were in town and were ccrair.g up to dinner. "Oh. Warren, with this new girl and fh so sullen and obstinate! Wa can't have them today."

"S'MA TTER POP"

(Copyright 19 1 C by the Press Publishing Company. New York World i

( Continued on Piga Nine.)

By. C. Payne

1 igJbi

L3LHU J

I rm . it I r i

I imj i "TV 1 ' I I - J

vmsr Teas

J a