Richmond Palladium (Daily), Volume 38, Number 294, 18 October 1913 — Page 8

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rF- RICHMOND PALLADIUM AND SUN-TELEGRAM. SATURDAY, OCT. 18, 1913 The Eternal Question1 Shall it be Wife or Mother? Radium in Drinking Water Cures Malady

Married Life the Second Year By HELEN HERBERT URNER. When Helen entered the closed, blind drawn, dust covered apartment, her first impulse had been to give way to hysterical nobbing. But the prompt appoaranc of Mrs. Grady, the janitor's wife, to Iv lp her unpack and ttraigtatcn out, had chocked her tears. Helen had some knowledge of Mrs. Grady's gossipping tendency, and determined to give Iter no chance to talk. "I wanted to surprise Mr. Curtis," she explained, "ho 1 Kent for Delia to meet me, not knowing that Mr. Curtis had closed the apartment." "Oh. f, rna'arn, Delia's been gone for more than a month. And Mr. Curtis, he ain't slept here since." As soon hs she eonhi, she got rid of MrH. Orady. She wanted to be alone

when she telephoned Warren. It. was now a. quarter of four. She wouJd let him come at once. Somehow now that all her plant? hail been miscarried, she had not the heart to put on the dainty sown she had planned. She was too tired to do anything but lie down until be came. She went tr the telephone and Rave his office number. Would he know her voice at nee? How surprised he would he! In tpite of her weariness she thrilled with the thought that in a moment she would be talking to him. GONE FOR THE DAY. "Hello, is this 12' Cortland? Wfll you give me Mr. Curtis? "He has just left," answered the girl. "When will he be back?" "Why, he's gone for the day." "Gone for the day! Oh, I must reach him somehow ! This is Mrs. Curtis'. I've just gotten in he was not expecting me. Where can I get him now?" "Oh, I'm very sorry, Mrs. Curtis, but I don't know where you could reach him now. He just left about five minutes ago." Helen huri up the receiver in despair. She could no longer check the tears. How miserably her plans had failed. Oh, why had she not telegraphed Warren in the first place? Why had she planned this surprise? And now must she spend the whole evening and night here alone? Oh, no, no, she could not that would be too hard! She had had no luncheon and little breakfast, for it was always difficult for her to eat. on a train. And now the faintness of hunger was added to that fatigue. She could call up his mother's he might be staying there. But she shrank from letting his people know that she had managed so badly. That she had arrived with no one to meet her and was now forced to telephone around for her husband! The Carlton Club! He might be there now! He often stopped there on his way from the office. And to call him there would be so much less humiliating than telephoning his family. NOT AT THE CLUB. "Mr. Curtis is not here," he faintly announced. "Do you expect him in during the evening?" "I can't say as to that. Some time he comes in and some times he doesn't." "Well, if he should come, won't you tell him that Mrs. Curtis is at home and wishes him to call her up at once?" There was nothing to do but to call it p his people. He might not go to the club at all. And she could not spend the whole evening and night alone. It was a maid who answered when Helen finally called up his home. She was glad, she did not have to talk with any member of the family just then. "No, Mr. Curtis was not there, the maid informed her. "But he is staying there, isn't he? Doesn't he sleep there at nights now?" "Sometimes not always," answered the girl. "Well, if lie comes in this evening, will you tell him to call up his own apartments? Do you understand his own apartment." "Yes, ma'am. But as soon as Helen hung up the receiver, she began to worry about her? Why hadn't she said she was Mrs. Curtis? It was foolish to try to keep his people from knowing, they would know in the"end. Oh, why could she do nothing right today? Why was everything going wrong? It was almost 5 now. Tired as she was, she must try to get something to

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By DOROTHY DIX. Look long at this picture, ladies. Study it well. Note the two angry women who stand facing each, other, bitterness and hatred in their hearts, cruel words upon their lips, and then take heed of the forlorn, helpless, pathetic figure of the man between them. It is a picture to make the understanding weep, and the pity of it is that it is one that so many, many men have only to shut their eyes to see reproduced in their own homes. In this picture the artist has seized upon the moment in which the long-drawn-out quarrels between a mother-in-law and a daughter-in-law have come to a crisis, and the wife has told her husband that he must choose between her and his mother, and that one or the other of them goes out of the door. How shall a man decide? He loves his wife devotedly. She is the one woman in all the world he picked out to be his companion through life. He knows that she loves him. She has been good, and faithful, and loyal to him. She is the mother of his children, and he is bound to her by all the ties that can unite a man to a woman. He is a domestic man, fond of his home, finding his greatest interest in it. A thousand voices bid him choose his wife if he must decide between the two women. But there is his mother his old mother the being above all others sa-

eat for Winifred and herself. They would both be sick if they went longer without food. A search through the pantry discolsed only a box of stale crackers and some canned goods. She made a hurried list of essentials, bread, butter, milk, eggs, etc., and telephoned to the grocery to send them over at once. But when the grocer's boy emptied a basketful of brown paper parcels on the kitchen table she gazed at them helplessly. She was too tired ,too heartsick to even open those packages. So she poured a glass of milk for Winifred and one for herself, leaving the other things untouched. Still in her traveling dress, she threw herself on the couch to rest. She was tired tired, more tired than she had ever been before. So this was the realization of all her plans for a beautiful surprise! The evening on which she had expected to be happy with Warren she must now spend alone in this dusty, unkempt apartment. But just then, as she was staring hopelessly at a figure on the rug, there came from the hall a faint preparatory stir of the telephone bell. She started breathlessly. Was it going to ring? Sometimes that whirring sound was only a false alarm. Another second and it rang loudly. Warren Warren! Oh, if it was only Warren. She flew out to the hall. "Yes, hello," she called excitedly. And it was Warren! Never had his voice sounded so deep and strong. Never had she been so glad to hear it! "Oh, where are vou where are you?" "At the club. Just got your message. I'll he there in fifteen minutes. It's too bad dear! How did it happen. Didn't you telegraph.' "Oh, I wanted to surprise you, so I telegraphed Delia and she isn't here. Oh. it's been dreadful." "Well, I should say. I'm awfully sorry Kitten. But never mind. Put on your prettiest dress and we'll go out and celebrate. Now hurry I'll be there in fifteen minutes. Goodbye. In fifteen minutes! Could she bathe and dress in fifteen minutes? Already she was getting out of her clothes, as she ran to the bathroom and turned on the water. While the tub was filling she unstrapped her trunk and dragged out her prettiest gown the one she had planned to wear. All her weariness was gone now. All the distress and discomfort of the day were forgotten. She was breathlessly happy. They were to have their beautiful evening together after all.

cred in his eyes; the one who went down into the Valley of the Shadow to bring him into life; the one who nursed him through his helpless infancy; who has cherished his every step through life, and whose sacrifices for him have been uncounted. He remembers the long nights she sat patiently by his sick bed; the times she went shabby that he might have new clothes to look as well as his schoolmates; the striving and selfdenial by which she put him through college. All that he is of good, all that he ever hopes to be, he owes to his mother, and he never looks at her workknotted old hands without wanting to go down on his knees and kiss them in gratitude. And now his wife demands that he shall repay that debt by turning the old woman out of his house. How can he decide against his mother? Wife and mother! These are the two women in the world the man loves best, the ones to whom he has mist tried to do his duty, and between they they are crucifying him. It is a tragic situation, grotesquely tragic, because both women love the

man they torture. They would do anything else on earth for him except to sink their petty spite and jealousy and try to get along together. They would make any sacrifice for him except to give up the pleasure of nagging at each other. There is no phase of human weakness so miserable and contemptible as the jealousy that makes the average mother-in-law ana daughter-in-law hate each other at sight, because it is a jealousy that has no foundation to stand upon. The love that a man gives to his wife, his mate, and that he gives to his mother are as different as wine and water. One does not conflict with the oth-

I or, and, as a matter of fact, a man

is tenderer to his wife the more he loves his mother, and the more he appreciates his moUier the more he sees what wifehood and motherhood mean to his own wife. It would seem that if a young woman had one spark of generosity in her

j nature, and if she really loved the man j she married, she would feel that of all j women on earth, next to her own ! mother, the closest to her was the

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I woman who had raised up for her a j good husband.

it would seem that ir a mother really loved her son she would desire above everything else his happiness, and that if he had married a wife who was good to him, and tender, and affectionate, and helpful to him, she would be filled with gratitude toward her. But is this the case? Far from it.

Wife is filled with surging jealousy of ;

mother-in-law, because her husband still loves the mother who bore him. Mother is green-eyed when she thinks of daughter-in-law, because her son picked her out for a wife. And they

nag each other, and harp on each oth- j er's faults, and interfere with each ;

other, and hate each other worse than poison. And both forget, in their feud, the man w ho loves both, and who Is their hapless victim. Of course no one will contend that it is easy for a daughter-in-law and a mother-in-law to get along comfortably together. They may be utterly uncongenial in disposition, and everybody has their faults and foibles. Admittedly nearly all old people are

The Sauberman "Radium Curo. That an effective remedy for arte iosclerosis. or hardening of the arteries, one of the maladies that has baffled the greatest savants of medical science for years, has at last been discovered, according to Dr. Kvan Styles Potter, of New York. He said it is the radium-water treatment, discovered by Dr. Slcmond Sauberman, a German scientist. The apparatus consists of a peculiarly shaped glass bottle containing a certain amount of radium, which must be Ulled with fresh drinking water, allowing It to become impregnated with the radium. The treatment consists of drinking one-half litre of the water each day, in one dose, if possible.

cranky and bossy. Undoubtedly all young women think that they are Solomons in petticoats. But while this is true, it is also true that any mother-in-law and daughter-in-law can get along harmoniously if they want to do so, and try to make friends of eacn other instead of enemies, and that they can sink their differences for the sake of the man they love, if they love him unselfishly. For in her heart every wife knows that her husband cannot be happy if she separates him from his mother, and every mother knows that she is

wrecking her son's life If she parts him from his wife, or does anything to kill his love for his wife. This is the lesson of this picturm, ladies. Study it well. Look with seeing eyes at the tragic figure of the unfortunate man, forced to choose between wife cand mother, and never give to your son or husband that dread alternative.

Hit It Right. Barber (after the shsre Hair dyed, jir? Customer (bald headed) Tes II died about five years ago.

October

Drawn by Nell Brinklej Verses by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

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SHE. Gone nre the Spring and the Summer, from tb year; And our lives a we?!. May we not. dear. In cur October find serene delights To take the p!ac- of ardent Summer nights? Not striving to retain a dying season. Or imitate its pleasure?, tut with reason Accepting Autumn's quiet, briefer day Of calm contest, net seeking to be gay?

HE. Gone are the Spring and Summer; yet behold The radiant woods, supreme in red and gold And russet colors; and the wind harp plays A louder song than in the April days. Our lives need not be colorless or sober Because of Autumn. Emulate October, Who will not let the aging years grow dulL But keeps its love by being beautifuL