Richmond Palladium (Daily), Volume 38, Number 256, 4 September 1913 — Page 8

PAGE EIGHT THE RICHMOND PALLADIUM AND SUN-TELEGRAM, THURSDAY, SEPT. 4, 1913 PALLADIUM'S MAGAZINE AND HOME PAGE II A

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I MARRIED LIFE SECOND YEAR

Saddest and Tragic Sight in ihe World The Downfall of a Young Cirl

By MABEL HERBERT URNER. Reducing Expenses in Which Delia Has to Wait For Her Money. HE butcher's boy Is here, I ma'am," announced Delia. I "He want's your order." "Well, tell him we are not going to order anything today. I want you to make croquettes out of the lamb we had left from last night." "But there ain't enough," objected Delia. "Yes, there is we will make it do somehow. Delia went grumbling back into the k'tchen to yell down the dumb waiter that, "they didn't want anything today." The strict economies that Helen was practicing now had not met with the approval cf Delia. Nothing was left over for her to take home, or to

give to the milk man, with whom she j

was enamored. i.very Dit or coia : ey he could not pay was always with j meat or vegetables was carefully put i her. Hffe had said he could "hold the; away by Helen to be used in some j payment off." But the feeling that it j dish for the uext day. i was hanging over him was intolerable, i If she could help Warren no other I she had wild thoughts of dismissing j way, Helen resolved that at least she .Delia and doing the work herself. But i would help him by reducing the house- , with the baby, that was impossible, j hold expenses. So she saved and j So all she could do was to keep the j .-crimped 'n every way possible. Milk, j household expenses as low as pos-' ice, butter, eggs, everything was or-jsibie; and this she did relentlessly, j dered in smaller quantities and closely ; Bllt Warren did not take kindly to

without question. Saturday and Sun j day passed without, comment, but on j Monday morning Delia asked for her j money. j "Mr. Curtis must have forgotten to , leave it," Helen answered eamly. "I'll I speak to him about it tonight." i But Warren had said Tuesday and j that meant of course Tuesday night, j Delia must be put off one more day. i Tuesday morning, after Warren had j gone, Helen remarked carelessly: j "Delia, I forgot to ask Mr. Curtis j for your money, but I will certainly s remember tonight." WITH A BIG SENSE OF RELIEF. I That night Warren gave her the i money and she gave it to Delia with ; an immense sigh of relief. She had ; never before owed a. servant and she j devoutly hoped she never would again. I Helen had an innate horror of debts ' of any kind.

The thought of Warren owing mon- i

warmed-over roasts and lack of va-

wctched to determine on just how lit

tle they could get along. ' ; rjety jn his food. Several times he Warren had redeemed her rings and ; had complained, and she had replied rf.d brought them to her with a curt j evasively that it was "cleaning day" v arning, "never to do anything so or "ironing day," and Delia did not

foolish again.

have time to get much dinner. She

He had offered no further informa- i had wanted to spare him the humilia

tion as to how he was to meet his i tkm of being reminded that it was debt. And he showed plainly that he j necessary for them to save. ( (! not wish to be questioned, so she But that evening, when the lamb v;-4 forced to remain silent. ; croquettes were served. Warren pushNO MONEY TO PAY DELIA. . . e( back his chair and flared out! Kcr several days she had been able "For goodness sake, can't we have t- nav tho current expenses herself, ; anything but stews, and croquettes

without asking Warren for the money, rut tit k'-gth her limited resources were exhausted. They had been paying Delia every Saturday night, and when Saturday morning came, Helen knew she did not have the money herself, and Warten did not mention it. Just as he was leaving she said hesitatingly:

"You know dear, I always pay Delia on Saturdays." "Well, can't you let her go this t'rae until Tuesday? I'll have the money then." "Oh, yes, I am sure she won't need it before then. I tm sorry I have

worried you about such things now, ! that?"

dear Rut f rlirin'f tnniv what fn in I

about It."

and warmed over roasts? What on

, earth is the matter with Delia that ! 1 she can not give us a decent meal?" !

i "It isn't Delia, Dear; I have been ' trying to keep the expenses down. I thought we should just now."

: "Well, that's all right but there Is t ; no sense in carrying a thing too far. I j We haven't reached the stage where j

we have to starve ourselves; I have borrowed a few hundred of Dalton to tide us over with. And I will bring things around in a month or so." "Borrowed of Dalton! Oh, Warren, how could you ?"

Why not? What's wrong about

"Oh, that's all right" impatiently. I will have the money Tuesday and you won't have to put her off again." After he was gone Helen began to wonder what she could say to Delia. She certainly could not admit to her

that they did not have the money.

t i s v. j

j kjii, i never waniea you to Dorrow ! of any one. You wouldn't let me

help you with my rings, and I had a thousand times rather do that than to have you borrow." "LEAVE THIS TO ME," HE SAID. "Well, I wouldn't. All hi'?iness men have to borrow now and then; but

iney aon r pawn tneir wives rings.

me, and don't

rd yet what excuse could she make? ; Now just leave this to

J 1 l . . . I

rue ucciceu to say notning at all, in j be eternally getting absurd ideas of the hopes Delia would let it go over j thing3 you know nothing about "

HOW TO IMPROVE LONESOMENESSl

SO YOU'RE lonesome, and you want friends and you don't knew how to make them. Well start in being a friend to scmebedy that's a good way. Ycu aren't the only lonesome one In the vhclepreat, big, lonesome city whcie yen live. That girl aecross the hall In the bearding house is just as lonesome as.

Make friends, make friends but be careful what sort of friends you make. Don't think, "Oh, well, they wouldn't

have done this at home, but it's all I right here," and get in with a lot of j silly, street-racing, giggling girls. A j goose is a goose whether she lives in ' Canajoharie or New York. A fibbing. ' niichief-making, deceitful girl will do you as much harm here in the big city as she would at home more, for ev- !

LITTLE BOBBIE'S PA

By DOROTHY DIX. OOK at the picture that accompanies this article. It shows the saddest and most tragic slight on earth

that of a young girl being pushed

iet a letter from home. ycu noticed what pretty

ycu are. Didn't vnu notiee how red

n;l ov, cryene knows you there, and she

. , - , f , .. i couldn't inrke much lipadwav ainut down from the clean heights of vir-

t '.. ivnuvu vj v ui inning 14. . i v v. . Crying all night, probably, because : yo,ir tnends-

A vain creature who puts every dol

lar she makes into clothes is just as empty-headed here in New York as she was when she left West Newton to come and set the town afire with what she thought was her glorious beauty. Rather, like Cleopatra, she thought she was the tenor in the village choir told her so once, when she

6h3 didn't , Haven't

clothes s'.ie wears? Her mother made i those clothes, and every stitch sewed; a world rf love into the dull, lifeless j cloth. It's hard to be away from such i a mother for the first time. And she's ' '. .i-iitul. too, that girl is. No, it isn't , haughty ihe is, it's timid. j She's from a village up-State, where the Knew every cat and dog in town,' and she's so afraid she'll do some-, ding country" or 'green" that she1 don't care to whisper. Help her out, pass her the butter and umile when you do it. It won't hurt you a bit. j What if she doesn't smile back so much the wcrse for her but she will, and it won't be long till you've got a friend some one to care wheth- -er ycu're too tired for a little walk these pleasant evenings or not, someone to talk to, someone to tell when the floor walker is cross, if tho girl at the next counter acts as if she thought ycu didn't know much. You cant live alone. No healthy, normal being can, and stay healthy

and normal don't try it.

i tue into the morass of sin by want. 1 She is clutching frantically to every

twig of respectability, of effort, of work that will stay her progress, but they are not strong enough to hold the weight put upon them, and they break in her hand, and she goes down, down, down into the slime of the underworld. This picture is not the flower of an

was in a tableau for the benefit of the : artist's fancy. It is a scene from real flood sufferers and she's been langu- j life, a scene that we behold every day ishing for conquests ever since. j of our lives, for all about us are girls Poor thing, if she's lucky, she'll , who are being forced into the evil marry some good, honest man and life, not by gidiness nor love of finery, cook his dinners for him the rest of not by the perfidy of man, not by their her life and be thankful there's a din- j own wayward impulses, but by hunger,

ncr to cook. Beaux why, of course, you ought to have a beau. A girl isn't a girl without a beau. But don't pick up any kind of a creature that will smile at you, just because you're lonely. You'll

and cold, and need. Poverty is the Don Juan who has led more girls astray than all the fascinators combined who have ever existed. As Becky Sharp said, it's easy to be virtuous on five thousand a

wish you'd lived a hermit's life for-i -vear- Uut now about DeinS virtuous ever, if vou do that. Don't be in too i on nothing a year when you shiver great a hurrv. Wait a bit wait a i with the cold in tho winter, Per-

lsh of the heat in the Summer; when

bit. That's what the little clock that alarms you in time for the dav's work

carina ciii i,or I your torn frock will not cover

it? "wait a bit. wait a bit" the lit-

your shoes are rags on your feet and

you;

wnen your motner cougns with a cough that never ceases, and your little sisters and brothers cry for food,

and your own stomach feels as if your throat had been cut? No Amount of Money Will Turn a Wanton Into a Prude.

The learned commission that, probed I into the subject of the minimum wage for women delivered itself of the i solemn conclusion that there was no ; relation between what a girl earned : and her going in the straight road, and ; that virtue wasn't a matter of money, but of high moral principle. , It is true that no amount of money will turn a girl with the soul of a wan-; ton into a prude. We read every day in the papers of millionairesses who , tread the primrose path simply because it is the way of their desire, j It is also true that a girl may keep ! herself pure in the stress of any temptation, however great. Tens of thousands do. Among the unknown and unsung heroines of the world are those women who. die of want rather than j take plenty that they must buy at the j price of dishonor. ' Once a little vaudeville actress said fiercely to me: "Don't talk to me about the good women who have al-. ways had every comfort and luxury , about them. What do they know about goodness? They've never been tested. I have kept myself good and I've been so hungry that the smell of food in a restaurant as I passed made me sick. I've been cold and hungry, and I knew I had just to say one word

and a rich man would give me furs and diamonds, and feast, me on terrapin and champagne. I tell you that it's only the women, such as I am, who know what it means to be good." Such women as this one have courage and great strength. They can resist, but what of the others, the girls who are timid and weak, and who have no hope of bettering their condition, no outlook for the future? These Kirls are not very clever, they are not very skillful or efficient, they have never even been taught how to do any one thing well by which to make a living. They work such long hours and earn so little. They are so poor, they are hungry and shabby, and those at home are hungrier and shabbier still. They are so young, and they have all of youth's craving for pleasure.

They

Would Like to be Good.

But Poverty is Their

Undoing.

They would like to go straight. They would like to keep good. They would keep as pure and sweet as your daughter and mine if they had the chance, but their poverty is their undoing. Their need presses them down and down, farther and farther, until it presses so many of them over the brink into the pit. You think this an exaggeration. Listen: Here is a letter that I got in this morning's mail. It is from a young girl only seventeen years old.

She says that her family is desperate

ly poor, that her mother is a widow, so crippled with rheumatism that she can no longer go out to scrub, and that her little brother is blind. That makes this girl of seventeen the breadwinner of the family. A man, a fat, elderly man with a house full of children of his own, not long ago got this

girl a position with the firm he works for. Now he demands his pay. The girl writes, "I am a good girl. I want to go straight. I feel that it will kill me with shame if I don't, but what am I to do? If I resent this man's familiarity he will discharge me, and what will become of my mother and my little brother then? It is so hard to get another place when you lose the one you have. I am afraid we will starve. What shall I do?" That is a real letter, and I get hun

dreds of them, just like that, from j girls who are willing to work, who j want to make an honest living and goj straight if only the world will let!

them. The Unpardonable Sin is Not Paying a Woman a Living Wage. Old-fashioned preachers used to find a favorite text in discoursing about the unpardonable sin, though they never agreed upon what it was. I think the unpardonable sin. the one thing that God will never forgive, is that one which forces a woman to

TH ARK was a awful funnr.ouj pel cairn to visit Pa Ml last nite. Thare nalm w Mister Missus Blum, think thare naim shud have bees Gloom. Thay was both of them at sad as if the wurld was camming to an end. I knew that Pa didn't like then bekaus he is awful jolly moast d the time, but Ma sed that thay vat old friends of the fambly so thay vud have to be entertained. 1 ttiiii be glad to entertain them Pa said to Ma out in th. kitchen, but they look so sad that .Mloant know what to do for their pleMtr. unless I spank littel Bobbie & maik him cry. I have newer did that yet. sed Ta. aiivl 1 hate to start in now. Oh. 1 Kuess thay aim to bad as all that, sod Ma. Jest go out now entertain them till I cum. So Pa & me went cut into the living room wile Ma was sitting sum late supper for the cumpany. Well, sed Pa to Mister Bhitne. I see that Matty won another gaim yesterday. He is doing pritty well for a poor old cripple that is all in. tsent he? sed Pa. I do not pay much attention to the petty triumfs of a baseball player, sed Mister Illume. He may be a i.lcl among the unthinking, but was Caesar a ball player? No. he was a grate general! Oh, I see. sed Pa. you want to talk about generals. Well, sir, I think that Napolyun was about the niftiest general that ever told his men to go & git drilled by bullets. He was a far sited man. sed Pa. Wen hia starving, frozen Grand Armee wa blundering back from Moscow he cud look far enuff ahed to git out of it hisself. so he took six of the best horses & the best carriage & took a bee line for Paris, leeving his poor soljers to git hoam the beet way thay cud. Oh. yes, he was a inhuman man, sed Mister Blume. He waded to his triumfs thru a sea of blood, of blood, blood, blood. Then Mister & Missus BInme looked akful blue & sad. General Thomas was a grate general, too sed Pa. They railed him the Rock of Chickymauga. If It had not been for him the army of the Potomac wud never have got to the aea with Sherman, sed Pa. I ought to know, Pa sed. I waa one of the first oslfers to reach the sea. I got there aheod of Sherman, Pa sed. I waa out taking a swim in the suit wen be got thare. Mister Blume looked at pa kind of hard for a minnit. but Pa dident tarn red. I turned kind of red for him. but Mister Blume wasent looking at me, so he dident know that Pa waa lying. Well, sed Mister Blume, you may have been in that awful war. but wether you were or not, thar were reely grate men in those days &. the peepul reely loved them. Now we have no reely grate men. Jest wen we beegin to think one of them ts grate, up cums a inquiry & sumbody produces a lot of canceled checks. the grate man's nalm la mud. The grate man are all molderlng tn thare graves, sed Mr. Blume. & the grate wimen. too, sed Missus Blume. Oh. dear me, what is this wurld cumming too. Oh, I think you must be a grate moman, I toald Missus Blume. Then she reely smiled & called me a deer littel man. It made me think of a littel verse I herd on the stage: The wise man is wise in his wisdom. The fool thinks he's wise in his folly; But the high and tb low, warever you go Are all eay marks Cor a jolly. WILLIAM F. KtRK.

"S' MATTER POP"

sell her soul to keclife In her body. And every one o tjg commits that sin who does not pay our women employes a living wage. Look again at this picture of the girl who is being forced Into the morass of evil by poverty. Perhaps it will open that close fist of yours and make you give some ill-paid girl in your office or shop the dollar or two extra that will keep her from being driven into taking the wrong turn of the road. We can't fight much, you know, on an empty stomach. Least of all can we fight the tempter.

WANTED Maid to assist with upstairs work. Call telephone 2240. The value of the Turkish tobacco exported to the United States Increased fro mS3.902.643 in 1910 and $8,620,324 in 1911 to 110.010.952 in 1912.

By. C. Payne

"ListenVJE.RE VlSiTiiMG ANT)

H "D "BEEN "rbT3 fKDM

To ASK- To'R DOUGHNUTS, AND D0U6rlNUT5, . D0U6rNUT3, CeoL) set Doughnuts, . , . . i. ...

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