Richmond Palladium (Daily), Volume 38, Number 269, 19 September 1913 — Page 10

PAGE TEN

THE RICHMOND PALLADIUM AND SUN-TELEGRAM, FRIDAY, SEPT. 19, ma PALLADIUM'S MAGAZINE AND HOME PAGE

Married Life the Second Year

By MABEL HERBERT URNER. J ARREN took from their ban- , ljY ger a palr ot Sray trousers ; and frowned- at them disapapprovingly. "Didn't Itell you to send those to the tailor?" , "Why, I thought you said he'd call for them," answered Heien, who was butting the collar bones in a freshly j laundered wrist. "I said nothing of the kind. I distinctly told you yesterday morning to lend theBe trousers and that heavy cvercoat to be pressed." "Yes, I knew you wanted them pressed, but I thought you were to Btop on your way and send the man ifter them." "Well, he didn't come did he?" And they were hanging there all day; couldn't you see them? And, if you knew I wanted them pressed, why didn't you send them to him?" "Mother came yesterday, and I had bo many things to think of that I" "Oh, you always have some excuse. Now see if you tan remember to send these things to the tailor today. Do you think you can do that? sarcastically. "Will that tax your memory too much?" Helen flushed. "1 have no one to send but Delia and she doesn't like to leave her work in the morning. You have to pass the place as you go to the subway; couldn't you stop and send the man after them?" "OH, THAT'S IT, EH?" HE ASKED. "Oh, that's it is it? You don't want to send Delia. Then why didn't you say so in the beginning, without lying about it and saying you misunderstood ?" "I didn't lie. Warren; that would be rather a small thing to lie about, wouldn't it?" "Well, now I want these trousers sent to the tailor. Do you hear? If Delia won't take them, send for a messenger boy. When I start down j town in the morning, I haven't time to stop at any little tailor's. Any other woman but you would manage to get her husband's clothes pressed with out all this fuss. Now, do you think you can manage to call a messenger boy, or is that asking too much?" "Oh, Warren, how can you be so unjust. You know I'll not call a messenger boy. I'll take them myself. I wouldn't have said anything about it, but I thought as the place was right on your way, you wouldn't mind stopping." "Well, I would. I'm not an errand boy, and, when I start out, I have other things to think about. If you'd only do what I tell you without so many Infernal excuses" "Warren, don't! Mother will hear you she's just in the next room." "Well, what of it?" "Oh, I don't want her to know?" "Know, what?" Helen's only answer was a gesture of despair. WARREN GROWS SARCASTIC. "You mean you don't want her to know that we're not divinely happy," with a disagreeable laugh. "Well, you don't think she can stay here very . long without finding that out, do you?" "No, I suppose not," wearily. "What's the matter with you, anyway? You've been going around here - with the most woe-begone expression. Any one would think I'd been beating you. I tell you I'm blamed tired of (your aggrieved and injured airs. I supIpose you have made me out a brute to your mother, already." "Warren, you know I have not discussed you or your affairs with mother. Above everything else, I don't want her to know." "Know what? You're eternally saying that. After all, what is there to know?" "Oh, Warren, don't don't let's talk about it! It doesn't help matters. Let's not quarrel all the time." "Well, who's doing the quarreling. Who started it? Didn't you?" - "Perhaps I did," more wearily; "I'll admit anything for the sake of peace." "Oh, you will will you? Well, that's worth knowing. When you find you are beaten in an argument then you eay you'll admit anything for the sake of peace. By George that's like you!" Here Helen, who had finished putting In the collar bones and had slipped on the waist, hurried into the next room, where her mother was dressing the baby. "Mother, will you button me up? Warren is shaving, and he doesn't like so many buttons anyway," with a laugh, which she tried to make careless. Had her mother heard? Her mother drew her to the light, saying naturally, "you'll have to turn around, I can't see back here." There was nothing in her voice or manner to imply that she had heard. SAFEST LAXATIVE Fcfi WOMEN. Nearly every woman needs a good laxative. Dr. King's New Life Pills are good because they are prompt, safe and do not cause pain. Mrs. M. C. Dunlap of Leadill, Tenn. says. "Dr. King's New Life Pills helped her troubles greatly." Oct a box today. Price 25c. Recommended by A. G. Luken & Co. C Advertisement') "S'MA TTER POP

ofT UNCLE SllH IT UsEYET ) ' U-r 1 I g yiC -re issoMe r- ) l.ke a cat I 5Tand iack illllllli 'T b mot a Some, uv our g k,ndoFanimal I Swam I Aw- J ITeul-ta! cat. " lIBIilllllP IToMFooi-EwY.rLu llfllSr O t? c Cj;l.CO"!j 7 Af claws like a , TK,MA5 H-JL llllllM H III? 5E.e.J i 1 i Cat Butt t 0? it tbk n m mtt gp flllllP 7 WMfijf n-V jl3J-r ,-t'"tth Ji" c A jjp ' ' '

A Charming Contrast in Hats Described

Ymf -vf Ji fit 1v J&$P$p&r.' i v Jffij A Jr ' ' ?. s5:jk:: Hm r K v " y ' IN M 0

Are You , p , - I VscO Prevoyant? I 1 (t

Are you prevoyant Sounds like a disease, doesn't it? One of the 1914 models that doctors now have about ready. But it is nothing of the kind. It means fore-sighted, prudent. It is prevoyance when you decide that your shoes had better go to the cobbler before they have gone too far. They do not yet need mending, it is true. But very shortly they are going to. The mending will be a better job done now than after they have actually broken. Wisdom gained from past experiences has taught you this. Therefore, you send them away. Prevoyance is a good thing to have in all departments of life. Not to fear the future, but to prepare for it by doing today that which is needful is to best insure the days to come. The prevoyant man is rarely found looking for a job. He does not lose the one he has for the reason that he saw thing coining and shaped his course acordingly The prevoyant housekeeper is not the one rushing distractedly about when unexpected company arrives. The emergency did not catch her un prepared. For a corner stocked for such an ocasion she plucks forth the delicate canned soup, the conserve, the tinned crackers, the various sweets and sours which transform an everyday sort of repast into something appropriate for visitors. Prevoyance causes one to be known as 'a good manager." Lack of it eventuates in hurry, confusion, loss. Why not cultivate prevoyance? Little Bobbie's Pa M ISSUS SMITH is going to bring her husband up to see us tonite, sed Ma. You ought to meet her husband, beekaus he is vary brilyunt. That is nice, sed Pa. I always like to meet brilyunt peepul. It niaiks me feel at hoam to find a other brilyunt man with wich to talk with. What is he. a actor? No, sed Ma, he is a lawyer, but he is the gratest con-ver-sashunalist that I ever lissened to. The art of plesant eonversashun is rapidly beecumink a thing of the past, sed Ma, the saim as the art of polite letter liteing. That is vary true, sed Pa. In the old days a young man wud rite a butiful letter to a yung lady, telling how he was drawn toward her bv sum

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l ' V t f f ;

I SN'T this a chic little chapeau early Fall? It is of white satin, and is a "flower-pot" shape, with

material finishing at the edge. Draped about the high chown is black velvet. Two wide loops flare up in front, and a softer loop descends across the crown. Thehome milliner will find this hat very easy to copy and the expense won't be very great. Twenty-five cents for the flower-pot foundation shape, a dollar for the yard of satin, and a dollar and a half for a yard of black velvet cut on the boas. This velvet may be cut in three strips, which can be stitched together invisibly. Another quarter for

mystick spell, & nowadays. Pa sed, if a yung man rites a yung lady at all, he rites this: Say, kiddo, youse have sure got me winging. I'm so strong for you I feel like Sandow. Yours to a crisp. Jack. That is. the kind of polite letters that gurls git nowadays, Pa sed. I know you will like Mister Smith, Ma sed. He has traveled far and wide. He knows grate men in every land. & he tells it all so interesting. You think you are in a trance all the time he is telling you about his adventures. I bet he hasent had any moar adventurs than I have, sed Pa. Oh. yes he has. sed Ma. his is reel adventures. You maik up a lot of yure adventures. Wait till you heer his eonversashun. Jest then Missus Smith & her husband cairn. He was a tall, thin man & he looked like a skool teecher. He talked like one. too. newer herd so many big words. I am very pleesed to meet you. sed Pa wen he was interduced to Mister Smith. My wife was telling me that you have traveled far. I have been sintiguous to sum vary reemoat parts of the earth, sed Mister Smith. I think I may say without j I

on the left for

or supple felt, a hand of selffeer of successful enn-tradickshun that I have been adjacent to or directly in many of the tnoast impenetrated parts of the wurld. The fact that I am a Nomad is in-dub-ital, he sed to Pa. So it wud seem, sed Pa. I used to nomad a lot too, until I got sick nf roaming & settled down. But your travel has boon infinitcsmal compared to the roaming I have did. sed Mister Smith. Why. beofoar I was twenty I had boon thru all of Uruguay & Paraguay, wich is sunpoas you know mite be sed to be in juxtaposishun. &r to deeskribe my porrgrinashuns tnru Ainca wud taik a week ot steady eonversashun, sed Mister Smith. Af - rica is a somoer continent, to at-: tempt to deeskribe its brooding mis- f tery were futil, he sod. It wud be too j coninns fnr vnro lirmtfil rnmnrphpn- ! shun. Even, if I were to roelate these! things succinctly, sod Mister Mmith.! & even if you fc I acrepfl that I shud talk that length of time. I feer that you wud wish tn abrogate that agreement beefoar my be-wildermz fiow of words was half finnishod. Then doant peregrinate, sed Pa. Let us talk about baseball 1 was hoaping

millinery wire and lining and for three dollars you have a smart and unusual little "first" hat. The evening gown of pale lemon brocade is rather startling without transgressing the limits of good taste. The gown itself takes the form of a princess dress cut with Mousing waist and fish-tail train. The top part of the bodice is a dainty kimono of fine maline lace and ivory chiffon. Under this shimmers a pale apricot ribbon which is laid across the chest and under the arms. Over the dress and joining the "V" neck is a long coat of palest apricot chiffon, which falls to the bottom of the skirt with no opening for the arms. The cape-coat Is edged with an applique of dull gold and pink roses, with leaves of green gold. Under this trimming the chiffon coat tightens into a few folds at the back. Behold a hat, on the right, that the "home milliner" can never hope to manufacture! Of tete du negre velvet is the smart shape which scoops over milady's right eye. turns smartly up at the left side and the back and arranges itself in a soft, "near" Tarn o" Sluinter crown. And of the same wonderful smoky dark brown shade is the great cascading spray of paradise, that extends across the back. The price? Oh it can be done for one hundred and fifty dollars, if milady does not demand too generous a mass of the frothy paradise in her crown! IJy OLIVETTE.

j llugtrins wun win the Nashunal Leeg j pf,nnant for gt- Louig Pa 8edt but l . . , . , . , x A lit- UL niuu til JtMt tl tut? pusi. Baseball does not interest me, sed Mister Smith. I wud fain converse of .other things, things less of the soil and moar etheerial. So he conversed of other things & at last all of us excop him wud fain go to bed. I am glad Pa iscnt brilyunt. he talks enuff now. William F. Kirk. Even Worse. He Darling, don't you kno-w that it j is unlucky to postpone a wedding? . she I can't help that. Mv dressmak : er is in aild rra afraid lt wonId be more unlucky if I were to go and get ni.-irried lefore having all the clothes I want made while mr father Is still wi!lil)S to P".v for them Escaped. S'.ster at the piano Where is Herr Broun? Little Sister-Ob. I got up to open the door for Fido and he slipped out at the sauie time Fliegende Blat-

VILLAINOUS COOKS

By WINIFERO BLACK. r"pHE man didn't like the way his T steak was broiled and he called the cook in and said so. and the cook, being a Western man and of high spirit, and very sensitive, pulled his "gun" and t-hot the man who complained dead. This happened in St. Louis the other day. The cook is in jail, grumbling a good deal about the meals they serve there, they say. The man who complained is buried I wonder if someone won't put up a monument to him? He deserves one if man ever did. Whatever is the matter with us Americans that we will allow people to feed us the stuff they call food and never even voice one single protest? There are no restaurants so good as the best American restaurants in all the wide and rolling world, and may I ask a long suffering public if there is any restaurant so bad as the second class American, restaurant anywhere in the universe? Where did you go this Summer? Down to the New Kngland coast? What did they give you for breakfast? Anything you could eat and enjoy? Tell the truth, now. And the dinner forty dishes on the bill of fare and not one of them tit to eat. A la this and Waldorf that and Ritz the other thing and not one slice of decently cooked meat, not one vegetable that tasted like anything but an imitation. Peas! What, were those peas, those little bright green bullets they served with what they called roast lamb? Beans! Those pallid strings? Corn! That withered thing on a cob? Beef! Where did you get it? Chicken! What did it taste like? Veal! Oh. spectred horror of pale misery. Pork! Well, yes, that does look like an old-fashioned pork chop when you take a microscope and look it right straight in the face. But what, oh. what did the cook in his fiendish fury do to it? Pie! Leather and stewed fruit. Cake! You could taste the cottolene before you got a chance to cut it. Ice cream! That was fairly decent, though if you went far enough South, that began to taste of hair oil. in some mysterious way. The mountain fresh trout, the best vegetables in the world ruined in the cooking, absolutely cooked to death, or left half raw what is the TWO BOYS-A Two Richmond boys had attained the age when they could be trusted to j run the piano player. The music library included ragtime, popular music and classical selections. Not a word was said to the children as to what they should play but they were left to browse at will in the flowered meadows of melody. At first their execution was mechanical and noisy. But little by lit- ( tie they learned better and reveled in the power to give delicacy and expression, as far as they understood it. In the little while, as is always the lease, certain numbers became tavoriteB. It interested the mother very much to observe that a large proportion of these were of the better class music. This is a true story so let those marvel who will when it is recorded that two average boys, without any great amount of musical ability and members of a family not at all musical, reveled in Wagner's "Flying Dutchman" (the overture), and in Rubinstein's "Feramors," also in several selections from Beethoven. Saccharine, sweetly-mushy melodies like "The Merry Widow," they shied Near Fame. A yonng man. constant in his attendance in a cafe where the art students congregate in Paris, sat in hi usual corner and surveyed the scene. "Who is that chap?" asked a visitor. "Is he a painter or a sculptor, or whatr "Oh. no; none of those," said a habitue. "He has a most engaging and Important calling he is the brother of a poet." Saturday Evening Post. Good Security. Mllllgan If I be afther larinj; security equil ter what I take away wiil yes thrust me till nist wake? Sands (the grocer Certainly. Milligan Well, thin, sell me two av thim bams an kape wan av thim till I come agin. Puck. An Unreasonable Man, "I should think you would like him." "Why?" "He has done so much for you.T "I know he has. but he want' me to acknowledge it "Chicago Record-Herald. From Her Standpoint. Els'e I didn't know he conld afford to g1.e you such an expensive engasement ring.. Eseria He couldn't bnt vestsn r. it dear of him? Life.

matter with out cooks, who axe they, and what are they, that they make us suffer thus? Why are there no little inns pleaant. homelike stopping place where you can get a chop and a potato and a salad and a bit of cese any hour of the day or night aril And ood and savory, too? Yon can find such everywhere In the civilized -world except In our glorious country. Here we must where e have to undress for dinner atid sit and order French things that we don't want or go t a frowty family bote! and starve. I know a woman who had a little meals. well cooked old-fashioned things, fried chicken, hot biscuit, eoffov You couldn't keep the automobiles away from her door, though it was miles and miles from everything. This summer we went there to eat. and remained to weep. The porch was there, still shady; the vines wer there, still a foam with delicate white flowers; the well bubbled aweet and cool and fresh, but the woman vti sitting on the porch iu a swinging chair with her hair marcelled In the fashion of the year before last, and in the kitchen was a Chinaman, and in the office was a demon boy. who rote menus from something he had read in a book. The Chinaman aerrcd things all looking just alike and tasting just alike, as If some frowsy hen had laid eggs in the range and somebody had poured tomato catsup in to sweeten the air ugh. and the woman will wonder, when Fall conies, why the place is no longer popular, when she and a paid Chinaman and a boy to run it so "swell" too One good steak, one baked potato, one slice of sweet home-made bread, one pat of fragrant butter, a glass of milk, an old-fashioned chocolate layer cake and some sliced peaches with real cream Why. we'd have motored fifty miles to get them. Where have they all gone, the good old American dishes we all like apple pie with cheese, crumbly crust, soft cheese, ginger bread warm from the oven, soft ginger cookies out of the old blue Jar graham bread with a deep crust, rasin bread, made with plenty of shortening, peach cobler. chicken pie why can't we ever get any of these things any more, why must we always hare a "menu" and a lot of Imitation things that nobody can even pretend to like?

PIANO PL A YER away from. "Hearts and Flowers and the transcription of "Alice. Where Art Trou?" were passed OTer. Th martial "Flying Cavalry" was most satisfying. Naturally. Sousa's marches were prime favorites. The proper pronunciation of composers" names was something about which they were tfmld. This was, doubtless, a boy's horror ot affectation. Chopin, for instance, seemed much more readily pronounced phonetically than when given its rightful sound. But eventually they grew out of this fear. The use of the piano player served to encourage and help them with their musical instruction. Because they knew little about all the good and delight which lay ahead of them they found the rudimental work much easier. The piano player also familiarized them with t ha best music and with the varying styles of the diferent composers. Even these small boys could name nearly any selection they heard when they happened to be present when good music was played. A piano player in the home helps and facilitates with th study of music. The Sausage. The sausage dates back to the year 897. It has been asserted that the Greeks in the daya of Homer manufactured sausages, but this prehistoric mixture had nothing in common with our modern rroduct. The ancient so called sausage was composed of the same materials wilch enter into the makeup of the bond In of the French market and the blood pudding of the French Canadian. The ancient sausage was enveloped In the stomachs of goats. It was not until the tenth century that sausage made of hashed pork became known. It w sc in or near tha year 1500 that, thanks to tho Introduction into Germany of cinnamon and saffron, tbe sausages of Frankfort and S trass burg acquired a universal reputation. He Had Bean Thee. "Can you direct me to tbe beat hotel in this town?"' asked the stranger who. after sadly watching the train depart, had set his satchel upon the station platform. -I can." replied the man who wis waiting for a train going tbe other vay. "but I bate to do if -Why?" "Because you will think after you're seen it that I'm a liar." Chicago Record-Herald. By C. Payne