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NORA LEE By Elenore Meherin
Writer of Great Serial ‘Chickie’ Presents Second Install ment of New Life of Modem Life, Centered On . Heart and Mind of the “Flapper.” By Elenore Meherin. The Biggest and Best Story of Her Career. HERE —already! But the driver had almost to lift her up the ■teps of Natalie’s home. She rested a moment at the door. She said faintly: "Ring.” She didn't hear when the but ler answered: "Miss Herbert is not in.” She didn’t hear or she wouldn’t understand, for she re peated: “Yes, Tell Miss Herbert It’s a case of life and death. I must see her! It’s news of tre mendous importance. She must hear It.” Presently Natalie was standing before her and the two women gazed at each other with stark, white faces. And Natalie's was more stricken than Nora Lee's. CHAPTER XLVI. Battling for a Life. Natalie’s voice, shocked and raw with pain, broke the tension: “Nora Lee! Why—have you come?” The cords were tearing in Nora Lee** throat; her lips smiled crazily ‘’Dane! Where is he? You know? Not on the train. I went there.” She leaned with her back against the door, her senses reeling. Natalie’s face was a ghost Whiteness; her sma»i hands pressed against her temples. "Dane? Why—ah—what has happened? What, Nora Lee!” "Oh, where? Tell me—Natalie, please. You know—«” She saw Natalie’s hands reach •ut; heard her own voice quiver in a shrill, imploring moan. The door whence Natalie had entered, opined. Dane was com ing toward her coming with blanched, appalling fade and dark. Storming eyes. Flight Homeward. Seeing him, reading the accusa tion in his look, she turned her face most cold and bitterly from his. She made a hurried, despair ing gesture: "Sonny’s been hurt. You better come!” ..... FREE 10-Day Test* Send the Coupon V 1 How Jr “Off-Color” Teeth Now are quickly restored to dazzling whiteness A NEW method urged widely by leading authorities. Make thia remarkable dental test. See what gleaming clearness is beneath the dingy film that clouds yOur teeth. 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Wabash Ave., VaHrf't Dmml AMhMuy Chicago, 111., U. S. A. Send to: Name J Address ; ——- nhte. ■ ■■■■■—■■ -i,i, bHiVJ He repeated aghast: "Sonny!” She nodded, and opening the door would have fled. He swept before her—caught her in his arms: “Sonny, Nora Lee? What? "Scalded—hurry—hurry—” He bore her down the steps. His words throbbed wildly, like some deafening, incredible pain in her head. “Sonny? Tell me! Oh. for God’s sake, what, Nora Lee?” This queer, tense sobbing un nerved her. She wept and couldn't answer. He bowed his shoulders against the driving rain: lifted her to the taxi. He said to the driver: “Ten dollars for every minute you save getting us there!” “I I’d Been Home.” She felt his body shaking. He touched her icy hands, clinched them against her knees: "Speak, Nora Lee!” “Oh, yes! But he may die — Sonny may die. I was away. Ah—l thought it was a thing that mattered!” She began to laugh: I thought it really count ed! So I went. That’s why it happened. If I’d been home . . .” "Don’t—” s "If I’d been home, I'd have Sonny! I went. He fell in the tub. The water was running scalding hot. They were going to give him his bath. Ellen undressed him. He ran from her. He must have slipped—lost his balance standing on the little bench near the tub. ...” "Oh, God!” He hunched his head—covered it with his arms. She heard his teeth chattering: "Fell in head first, Nora Lee?” "No—not his face—” Then she told him of the boy’s one frantic scream —Ellen flying down the hall—raising him, and how they poured oil over him—the doctor coming and all the doctor had said — She felt that she was beating him; that he sank under the merci less scourging until she could only THE WASHINGTON TIMES see his white, agonized face; his dumb, suffering eyes. Tenderness Missing. She wished to put her arms about him: to say with breaking heart: "What have we done! Oh, Dane—-you and I!” And it seemed a frightful thing that no tenderness; no melting pity drew them yearning and Ir resistible to each other’s embrace. She cowered at the window, gaz ing at the r&in and the wind as It bore ih desolate fury against the trees. The trees bowed with a forlon resignation. They rose and bowed again. Suddenly she murmured, chok ing: "He may be dead now —oh, dead —” He took her in his arms and held her. He put her hands against his lips. She tried to say: "You're kissing fne? Oh—how can you do this thing—” But She lay quiet—an overpowering quiet hushing her pulse. He whispered: “Darling—were here.” She smiled at that and won dered. She said dimly: "I can walk —Look—are there lights in hie room? Listen —I can’t go in—” He half carried her to the hall. His mother gripped his arm. He said to her in deadly stillness: 'How —how’s Sonny—” •Daddy’ Greeted. "Alive —” The single word crept upon them with a sickening terror. Then they were standing by the bed and the small face had a leaden heavy look: the half closed eyes were both dull and restless. Seeing the little fellow lying so, a sob broke from the father’s lips. He sank in the low chair at Sonny’s bed- And an odd, heart melting thing happened. The clid's eyes opened, glanced about the room, rested on Dane. A momentary flash of blue —a mumbled: "Dad dy!” The little boy smiled. It was like a sweet note of music entering the room, but almost immediately it was gone and a soft, frantic cry rasped across their nerves. The little form trembled, the teeth shaking as in the grip of a cruel, relent les chill. She sprang to Dane’s side and both together leaned over the boy and wept. Cry in Night. Dane’s hand trembled on hers: "He's not going, Norry! But he’s cold—cold —” "Ah, no —only the shock —” She nodded, sinking on her knees at the bed. Through the long night they heard that mut tered cry often. They watch-id as though their eyes could peel away the shadows of the future — watched that small beloved face. (To Be Continued Tomorrow.) GIBLETS A LA PARISIENNE By Alice Langelier PARIS. TAOR giblets a la Parislenne brown JT in a little fat one-fourth pound bacon, cut into dice. Remove, drain and replace with a dozen small onions. When they are browned, remove them and put in the giblets, cut into small pieces. Sprinkle over a little flour and moisten with a glass of wine and two glasses of bouillon. Add the bouquet of seasoning, a bit of garlic and a pinch of pepper. Cook-this three hours; then add the bacon, onionsand twelve small "olives,” cut from carrots. Let cook another one-half hour and add a btle liver, cut Into small pieces, and three chipolata sau sages, passed through boiling wa ter. Serve very hot. / uL J 6 NIC Lift RightOfF- X| O No Pain at All Doesn’t hurt one bit! Drop a | little "Freezone” on. an aching corn. ! instantly that corn stops hurting, I then shortly you lift it rifjbt off I with fingers. The National Daily MEDITATIONS x OF A MARRIED WOMAN LOVE is a poem only when your hearts beat to the same meter, and your thoughts happen to rhyme—and even then it is apt to turn static occasionally. Even an unpunctual husband somehow seems to "punctuate” a ff J? woman’s day, «1 makln K' the BagT 1 ’ ** breakfast hour g a little more < definite, and I. * ""W the dinner hour * less haphazard. Ir. ’ ? IE ■[ "'W ?* " What keeps | \ via a bachelor ® / safel y single : ES&X W, is not his in- ■gt ® $ ability to fall a in love, but • aaMnssM * his agility in hcusn sowland catching h1 s balance just in time to crawl out of it. The average man seldom con siders putting a love affair on a "higher plane” until he has tried working it out on all the other planes. A TRUE STORY ABOUT A SAILOR GOAT TJOBBY had on his-boxing gloves • u and was dancing about, doing some very snappy shadow-boxing as visions of Jack Dempsey flashed through his curly head. I must say that I didn’t pay much attention to the paper which I had. »I was too amused watching Bobby’s efforts at mastering the manly art of self defense. Finally he gave a big puff, low ered his head and lunged for ward, like a butting goat. Then he flopped down in a chair beside me to rest. "Tell me a story Foxy Grandpa,* said he. "I’ll tell you a story about an animal you reminded me of, Bobby,” I laughed, "and a true one. too.” "Once, many years ago, a friend of mine who is a naval officer, was down in Central American waters on a gunboat. "And you know how sailors like to have pets on board ship • for mascots. Well, the sailors on this ship decided that they would like to have one, so they went ashore and guess what they found? A little brown goat. He was a pretty little fellow with a rich brown coat of fur, with black points on tall and legs and a black streak down his back. His hoofs and horns were shiny black, too. "Well, the sailors loved this little fellow. He was great com pany—very friendly and affec tionate. His particular pal was the bugler. He used to stand on the bugler’s shoulders and look around with an air of great im portance. "Every day the men polished up the little goat’s hoofs and horns until they shone like Jet, and on special occasion the sailors gilded them by painting them with gold paint. Then he did look fine, and how proudly he strutted around the deck. “Once a month, when the Ar ticles of War were read, which tell all of the rules of the navy— and it takes a long time, too — there the goat stood like a four druggist sells a tiny bott'e of "Freezone” for a few cents, suf ficient to remove every hard corn, soft corn, or corn between the toes, and the foot calluses, without soreness or irritation. ■By Helen Rowland Breaking a man’s heart is not a cruelty, but a kindness; a man’s heart, like his teeth, has to be made to ACHE before he is con scious of its existence. A woman may love a man for his "brute strength” or even for his weaknesses, for his fascinating worldliness or for his plain, homely virtues—but she has to love him in SPITE of his Adam’s apple. / A man Is- never Interested in a heart that is marked "To Let”; he prefers to make himself miser able by trying to squeeze into one that Is marked "No Vacan cies.” Marriage is the point at which a man stops waiting for a woman to make up her mind, and begins waiting for her to' make up HIS mind. ( Most men seem to think that a girl should be perfectly satisfied with a “part-time” love and a sort of co-operative interest In their evenings and affections these busy days. ♦ statue, as if he understood every word. “You can Imagine how the men loved this little fellow and how they played with him. They taught him to fight. Os course, a goat knows how to butt when he is born. But the sailors trained him up by holding up their hands and encouraging him to butt against them as hard as he could. “The goat got very skillful at his • butting and practiced with every sailor who could play with him. “The ship came North and went to Boston. Xnd as it hap pened, there in the Navy Yard where the ship was tied up to the dock lived a big white billy goat, with a long gray beard. He was a sassy goat, and strutted around as if the Navy Yard had been established for his particu lar comfort. Ho thought he was monarch of all he surveyed— until one sad day. “On this day, the Tittle brown South American goat, who was only half the size of the big white goat, spied him. He took one look at the big fellow and then w-alked camly down the gangplank. Straight over to the big goat the little fellow went. He lowered him head,* kicked up his heels and what a whack he gave the big goat! “The big fellow was thunder struck, and before he could re cover himself, the little fellow went at him again. Bang! bang! he plunged in under the big goat’s whiskers. He got the best of the big white goat be fore he could get out another mahah. Then .without waiting even to look at the little fel|ow, the big goat ran off—licked and humbled. And all because the little fellow had been in train ing and knew how to sock. He just walloped him.” “I think I’ll practise some more,” sa'.d Bobby, jumping up and putting up his guard. WHEN DID IT HAPPEN? Answers to these queries will be prin ted tomorrow. lI7TIEN was proprietary govern- ment ended in Carolina? 2. When did Robert Guiscard rescue Pope Gregory VII? 3. When was Murray river, Au stralia's principal river, explored? 4. When was the Sturm and Drang period of German litera ture? 4. When was the Royal Palace of Munich built? ANSWERS to yesterday’s questions. 1. The battles of Atlanta, Ga. we.-o fought June 20-22, 1864. 2. The old St. Paul’s Cathedral. London. was built from the eleventh to the thirteenth cen turies. 3. Valparaiso, Chile, was found ed in 1544. 4. The Anabaptist uprising in Thuringia, Germany, took place in 1525. 5. D’Annunz o seized Fiume September 12, 1919. TUESDAY, APRIL 21. 1925. WHAT’S THE USE OF IDEALS? “You Will Never Be Sorry for Adhering to the Highest Standards,” the Famous Writer Tells Girls Who Wonder If Men Appreciate Fine Qualities. By Beatrice Fairfax, Who Occupies a Unique Position in the Writing World M an An* thorfiy on Problems of Love. WWtTHAT’B the use of having »» Ing ideals? They don’t get you anywhere.” "Ideals are all right In books, but not in real life.” “I know I’m an idiot to be particular.” “The best way to get on in life is to be a toy and plaything of men.” Haven’t you heard these re marks or others like them made by nice girls, who, having ex pressed momentary discourage ment in this matter, go right on being particular and having Ideals. Here’s a typical letter of this kind, from a typically nice girl who signs herself "Marguerita.” “Dear Miss Fairfax,” she writes. Although I have read many of your articles and found them in tensely interesting, I’ve yet to find anything among them to fit my case. "Unfortunately, I’m a born idealist, terribly sensitive and much misunderstood. If it were not for a sense of humor I would be the most miserable creature on earth. “Is there any place, in this world for an idealist? Or have they gone out of atyle as mid- Victorian ideas! “I don’t know what it la in this cool, calnv reserved nature of mine that arouses infatuation in the many men I have known. I can't respond to their ardor, as I believe true love to be based on friendship plus a mu tual interest. These ‘affairs’ usually end in a quarrel and bitter words. "Some time ago I met a man who was a gentleman—it was an other case of 'love at first sight.* Recognizing many good qualities, I discouraged that idea and offered, instead, my friend ship. "This didn’t seem to satisfy him. It ended in a quarrel and a lecture which made me 'sit up and take notice.’ "Perhaps the fault was mine. Perhaps Idealism is all right In ' 1 is Raisin Bread Day Serve my raisin bread at its best—on Wednes days. Get it fresh from my ovens large, jJJJ —» golden loaves fragrant with the fruity goodness PN of Sun-Maid Raisins. il *' I prepare this finer raisin bread * ‘special for P* Wednesday” every week. To make sure of © getting a loaf from this special baking, place a standingorder. Just phone your baker or grocer and he will deliver or reserve a loaf for you every Wednesday. f’ Don’t miss this famous and inexpensive mid- J week treat. Place your standing order today. /] Endorsed by bakera everywhere, / ‘J/ / / V gr including the Retail Bakers' g r ‘ ■ Association of America and the r American Bakers* Association r Place a landing Wednesday order with your Baker or Groces books, but never in real life. "This happened over a year ago. I’m unable to erase it from my mind. I find him constantly in my thoughts and at times I’m very lonely and regret my action in the matter. "Am I in love with him? Or is It that I just want him back to worship at my feet as before? I dreamed of love very different from this. What’s the use of having character 1£ one can’t find anyone to correspond to them? "In conclusion, please do not misconstrue. I am not a prude nor am I trying to assume a ’holier than thou’ attitude. What I failed to put on paper you can easily read betwen the lines. Please give me a little encourage ment to go on—a little hope for happiness—and I shall be ever grateful to you.” Encouragement? Bless your heart, dear, it’s girls like you —girls with ideals they try to live up to —who encourage .us all to ."carry on” —who make this world a decent, civilized, kind place in which to live. Any place for Idealists? Never were they more needed every where than just now. The girl with a high ideal of womanhood and motherhood will "keep the home fires” burning, illuminating for the next genera tion the way to happiness, serv ice and love. You are pretty, attractive and young, Marguerita. Your letter doesn’t say so, but I can read that much between the lines. And because you are attractive all sorts of men are attracted to you from various motives. The man whose philosophy of life is sordid resents your ideals because they protect you from himself. But stand firm. Don’t be dazzled by his shallow plati tudes of materialism nor by the counterfeit of love he offers you, which is nothing in the world but self-seeking. You’re not in love with such a man, because you don’t respect him. Your regrets is due to your missing certain pleasant qualities he may have, and most of all his attentions. For every girl likes attention. You’ll not find 100 per cent per fection in any man, Marguerita— nor in any woman. For- we’re but human. Among your friends and acquaintances, however, seek but those who are patterning their lives after worthy models who are "practical Idealists.” When such p. man offers you his love let time test the per manence of his affection and yours, then gladly accept his un selfish love "with ideals.” Noth ing less is worth while. You may lose a little surface popularity through clinging to your ideals. But the friends you'll make and hold will be the kind you can rely on “through thick and thin”—loyal, wonderful friends. Fine young men —and thank God there are hundreds of thou sands of them in this world —are looking for the girl with ideals. The other kind of young men are not much loss, either as friends or sweethearts. So, wait till the right man comes. And meantime bo glad you have ideals, for they mean self-respect and peace. AFTERNOON RECEPTION —By Mrs. Beeckman—- An Afternoon Reception. Dear mrs. beeckman: Is it correct for a man to Wear a wing collar with a busi ness suit at an informal recep tion? Does he have to wear a vest? M. A. R. IT is correct to wear a wing collar with a business suit. The "correct” clothes for a reception in the daytime are cutaway coat and dark gray striped trousers. He should wear a vest. Bowing to Strangers Dear mrs. Heeckman: When a lady is walking with a man and he meets sev eral men friends unknown to her, should she also bow to them when they raise their hats? IRENE. NO; she should not bow, since she does not know them.