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Society Consists of Cake and Late Hours, and Doing One's Thinking Next Day With a Piece of Leather
The Call's Magazine and Fiction Pages Their Married Life Helen's First Experience at a Turkisji Bath Is Most Illuminating By MABEL HERBERT URNER HELEN drew the sheet closer about her as they entered the hot room, the.air was stifling, and even the floor felt hot to her bare feet. A, number of women clad only ln fcaeets were leaning back ln the deck chairs, tkat lined the wall. They ail Sipping water and holding ice cletbs on their heads. The., pretty attendant led Helen and Mrs, Stevens to the chairs near the end of the room and brought thjem • each a cup of water and a towel wrapped piece of ice. , "Try. -to drink a lot of water while you're in-here," advised Mrs. Stevens. *Tt helps to make you perspire." •As Helen rubbed her face with cold cream to protect it from the hot air she read the placarded signs which heng around' the wall. ."•Turkish Baths Prolong Tour , Youth. 5 Tickets for $6.00. "Enhance Your Charms by Weekly Visits to ' The Pompeian Baths." "Well, we may look beautiful after ward,, but- I shouldn't say any one here looks particularly alluring now," glancing at the flushed, grease coated faces around the room. TRYING TO REDUCE A stout woman, livid with the heat, sat opposite. The Ice cloth lay on her head at a rakish angle, and her drenelied hair hung in straggling loeksi.' Her bare arms and feet showed creases of fat and the sheet did.hot conceal the lines of her pudgy figure/ ** • ".Sbe.'s reducing." whispered Mrs. Ste.v'eh,s. .. "She's here every time I ■eprrie.' ' The time and money some of ih'e"se';women spend trying to reduce!" '/"^^len-glanced down at her own slim ; "foViaa.'-.'.-outlined under the clinging jsiiee*', 'and adjusted her ijce cap with i-a'-'srgh io'f content. : ";.. : :"Haven.'t we been in here long eivO-ugii"?" for she could hardly breathe iii tile.-"heated air, and the chair seemed b'drjirrfg hot "That sign says 10 min utes;", "sodding toward a large placard. „ '-. |.-?; it-Is Not Advisable to Stay in .VflChfs Room Longer Than Ten or •* Fifteen Minutes.- Consult Attend an< * you're not used to it, "vPe3j,"go in and be packed now." Through, the swinging door Mrs. 6t,eyens\ led ihe way into a large, mir ror' l,»ied room filled with cots. An attendant ra*i forward with fresh theets a-nd '-skillfully "packed" them ■with blankets up to their chins. "How long do we stay here?" asked Hel#n, turning her' head toward Mrs. Stevens, who was in the cot to her right. "Oh; 15 minutes—until we perspire thoroughly." The heat had been somewhat ener- Tating, and not feeling inclined to talk rjeren lay there watching the bathers as they trailed In and out. She 'wondered how these women Would look in their clothes. Probably most of them, with the aid of corsets, rouge, false hair and .modish gowns, were "smart," stylish looking women. But hfere is only a sheet, which did not disguise their figures, and with thef» scant hair twisted Into a tight bun, they, were very much as nature had made them. "I wqnder if men look as unattrac tive in a Turkish bath as women?" roused Helen. "They probably look worse," laughed Mrs. Stevens. "Have you ladies any one for your bath?" asked a passing attendant: • "No, I want Nellie; and see If you can get Ro*a for rhis lady." The girl went out shrieking, "Nel lie! Rosa'" and Mrs. Stevens turned to Helen with a reassuring: "Rosa's good and strong—she'll give yod a good rub." *Why do they have 'Stolen from the Po'mfjeian baths' on everything?" aslced* Helen suddenly, for across the center of every • sheet, towel and blanket this phrase was worked irr >arge red letters. That's, the one thing I'don't like abo»t this place—they're so distrust ful.'Who would want their old sheets and towels? It's.an insult to their patrons to "have that 'Stolen from the Potnpejan baths' on everything. Oh, t.ere tomes Nellie now!" ':. . . >ELLIE ARRIVES A_tafl. well built girl, her sheet gl?d.ed around her waist and over her shoulder in the manner of all the at tendants, now came up to them. .."Is -this- the lady who wants Rosa?" giant ing, toward Helen as she un wrapped Mrs. Stevens' blankets. "She'll be here in a minute, she's just givriig. an alcohol rub." 'inlen watched Mrs. Stevens go off •wijh' Nellie, with a sudden nervous rhsstf at being left alone. This was her Ik sr. experience at a Turkish bath, and she'.xlid not know just what was In stare for her. "You the lady with Mrs. Stevens?" a pretty, round faced attendant. x*Y!O now approached her cot. "What's yd'ur number?" as she began unwrap ping tne blanket. answered Helen, glancing at the key of her locker, suspended from the rubber ring around her wrist. Heleh's heart beat fast as she fol lowed the girl out to the baths. The various apparatuses and hurrying white sheeted attendants were some what terrifying. "Just step ln there." Rosa pushed open the door of the steam room. "I'll calk you in a minute." * Helen found herself In a cloud of -dense white steam. She put out her hand and took a groping step forward. There were others in the room, for she could hear their voices, and from somewhere came the roar of machi nery and the loud hissing of steam. *A»Bhudderlng thought came to her ot the engine room of the Titanic. She* Imagined it was like this as the thip went down, and she pictured the wretched stokers trying to fight their Way out through the blinding steam. Theji she heard the door open and Rosa's voice calling "156." When she stepped out the clear air quickly dis pelled her grewsome thoughts. . Rosa now led her to one of the many scrub rooms—a marble parti tioned call with a stone bench and a The Gold Witch THE young men in her new home seem to be most courteous. Tom is not in favor, but he still hovers around. stone pillow. With a small hose she turned a flood of water on the bench, pillow and floor, dispelling Helen's lurking fear that things might not be "clean." "Now, Just lie down there, ma'am. Is this your first bath?" noticing Helen's shrinking reluctance. "Oh, you'll like it when you get used to it." Helen closed her eyes and held her breath. With astonishing vigor and energy this young woman went at her with a stiff brush that felt like a currycomb. THE ONSLAUGHT "Oh, not so hard! My skin's too tender!" "It's good for you, ma'am," consol ingly. "Now turn over, please." Helen squirmed under the onslaught of the bristle brush. Then a mo ment's respite and she felt a sooth ing flood of warm water from the hose. Then more lathering with soap and more vigorous scrubbing. "There, now, ma'am," as Rose again turned on the hose. "Would you like a salt rub?" Helen had no conception of what a 6alt rub meant, but she remembered a sign: "Salt Rubs Make Pink Skin." The bristle brush alone was tor ture, but the bristle brush filled with coarse salt brought visions of the Spanish inquisition when they lashed their victims and rubbed salt Into their raw wounds. "Oh, don't —please don't! I can't stand It!" "You'll feel fine afterward. You're skin's a little tender, but a salt rub's good for It. There now," as again came the grateful flood of warm water. "Now come out and 111 give you the hose and the spray." Outside Helen stood ln a marble recess while Rosa from the corridor about ten feet away turned on a powerful hose. It was warm at first, but gradually it grew jcolder. Like most women, Helen shrank from cold water, but Rosa was merciless and kept the now Icy stream turned full on her. "Now, madam, the needle spray and you're through!" She turned off the hose and led Helen to a diabolical looking arrange ment of coi'ed pipes which sent out fine sprays of water and steam. Helen shrank back with a cry. \ OXLY THE SPRAY "That's scalding! You don't expect me to stand in there?" "Why, it's cold, ma'am! That ain't steam —that's only the spray!" When Helen reluctantly stepped In side It was like a thousand electric needles playing against her flesh. Yet instead of feeling cold her skin began to glow. To her amazement she really enjoyed standing ln this shower of Icy spray. "There," and Rosa threw a warm sheet alaiut her as she came out. "I knew you'd like it. Now don't you want to go in the pool for a while?" leading her down the corridor to a large marble bathing pool. Mrs. Stevens was already there, and Helen waded out toward her, shoul der deep in the clear water. Ten minutes in the pool, then a brisk rubdown with coarse towels and they made their way back to the dressing room. There the bath at tendant gave tnem a vigorous alcohol rub. When they finally came out on the street Helente skin was aglow and her blood tingled pleasantly through her. She walked fast and took deep breaths of the clear, frosty air. Her sense of physical wellbeing amounted almost to exhilaration. But the buoyancy of her mood was not wholly physical. For as she pic tured the disfiguring obesity of some of the women in the baths her mind leaped joyously to the thought that she was still young and slim and that for her a Turkish bath was only a luxury and not paat. oX a relentless "reducing regimen." ' THE FAMILY CUPBOARD A Story of High Society Life in New York. Sfou Can Begin This Great Story Today by Reading This First Charles Nelson, a wealthy New Yorker, on coming home on a certain afternoon, discovers his eon, Ken neth, drunk, and jn the scene that follows. Kenneth accuses his father of maintaining another establishment. Nelson admits the truth of the charge. H!s wife, a society leader, hears the discussion, and it develops that tbe estrangement In the family has come through the woman's indifference to her husband. Their daughter, Alice, sides with the father, and Kenneth takes his mother's part Mrs. Hard ing, a mutual friend, tries to patch the trouble, and contrives that the Nelsons shall meet at the Alpine apartments, where Nelson has gone from his home. In the lobby of this apartment house Mrs. Nelson acci dentally meets Kitty May Claire, the girl who had won her husband's af fection. After his wife leaves, Nelson has a talk with the girl. He tells her they must "quit." The girl declares she will have revenge. She takes it by having the son, Kenneth, fall ln love with her. ! Now Read On !j (From Owen Davta' play now being presented at the Playhouse by William A. Brady.— Copyrighted, 1913, by International Neva Service.) Continued from Yesterday THE TELL TALE GLOVES Mary began calmly and ended ln utter confusion and pain—pain that she must not allow poor, harassed Mrs. Nelson to share. She had seen Kitty's long white gloves on the couch where Kenneth had carelessly thrown them. Quickly, quickly she dashed them back of a heavy pillow and stood patting it into place as if the beautifying of an arrangement of cushions were the most important thing she knew. Mrs. Nelson turned. She smiled to see Mary so deeply Interested in that pillow. Well, It was Ken's. In that three weeks at Ashevllle she had come to fathom some of the loyal love of Mary Burk's generous nature. To give and give! That was Mary's Irish heritage. "What is it?" she asked in some amazement. Those gloves! They haunted Mary —she wanted to see them again. They tortured her—but Mrs. Nelson must not know. "Nothing. I —l think you are right, Mrs. Nelson. Kenneth would be bet ter off ln some place he could call a home." And there was a deep meaning in Mary's soft cadenced voice. The door, opened, and with boyish impulsiveness Kenneth Nelson dashed into the room. "Hello, mother! I thought I should find you here. Just as anxious for me as I was for you. Eh, what?" He seized her in a very earnest em braca and kissed his mother with all The Adventures of a Golden-Haired Heiress No. 2. — No One Can Sit on Both Sides of a Fence his pent up longing for love. She held her boy off and looked at him. "Kenneth! You are pale!" "Aw, I'm all right." The old masculine desire not to have i a "fuss made over a chap." "Hello, Mary! Have a good time at Ashevllle?" That casual greeting! It hurt. Mary crossed over to the window—there was sunshine outside. Here in the room were indifference—and "the other woman's" white gloves. To twp sad hearts Kitty Claire was now "the other woman." "No!" said Mary. "It was stupid. I knew it would be. But I thought It would prevent gossip, my leaving town for a while, you know," said Mrs. Nelson. "There hasn't been much talk," said Ken. Mrs. Nelson hesitated, then spoke anxiously. "Ken—have—have you—seen HIM?" "No," said Ken. Indifferently . Mrs. Nelson leaned anxiously across the table between the chairs. "He has made no effort to see me?" "Yes, he has, but I couldn't see him. Alice came around once or twice, and she keeps calling me on the phone. But I won't go there. I can't." Tim- boy took his mother's band ln his with a gentle caress. The young prodigal who was laying up for her the bitterest pain of all—the pain of love for her first born. Instead of sel fish self-love—adored his beautiful mother. "I can't see them," he said gently. "He Is your father." In an hour soon to come Emily Nelson would prove just what that meant—"he is your father!" "I know, dear. Are—are you—is there to be —a divorce?" "I am not sure," The foundations of Emily's worla had been shaken. She was no longer sure of anything! "Before you went away you Bald that you were to start in at once?" The hoy spoke with a sort of slow SHOP EARLY All departments replete with useful holiday gifts S.&G. GUMP COMPANY 246-268 Post St. Free delivery to all points in California C HE wonders why the girls are so hard to get acquainted with, when all the young men are so friendly. Adapted from the Broadway J Success by Owen Davis, j Impatience. Would she forgive his father? How much could a woman forgive? Later the great question of all his life would be: HOW MUCH CAN A MAN FORGIVE? And on the answer would depend sanity—ana more. "I had Intended to —but"— Emily Nelson could not quite ex plain herself—her growing feeling of helplessness at the outcome of It all. Was she beginning to realize that each of us has a debt to life? Was she beginning to know that she had owed everything for long years to Charles Nelson —that she had cheated —and that life was now inexorably demanding toll? That beautiful exotic creature —thu bird of paradise society woman—ac cepts homage, tribute, worship from the man to whom she' owes all —and pays no more than a gossamer smile. And one day the grim auditor, Hu man Nature, comes along and says, "Dear me! —these books don't balance at all. Why, everything is on one side—the debit side. I'll have to see what I can collect for the creditor.' Whereupon the bird of paradise pays ln terms of love for her tribute of glory and gems—or watches some clever purchaser buying away from her what she thought hers "by right of eminent domain." The law recognizes the right of possession—It counts nine points. And In love, possession is all the points. "I want to know where we stand. Are you going back to him? Kenneth asked with youth's desire to have things settled and arranged—at once. OWE MOTHER'S ANSWER Thus brought practically to bay, with all the sentimental longrVigs of home coming put to war with her feeling of martyrdom, Emily Nelson remembered that she was a woman deeply wronged—and forgot that she had brought it all on herself. "No! lam not! Do you know— have you heard—if he is with that woman?" STELLA FLORES Copyright, 1913. International News Service. j "I don't know anything about it, |and I don't want to. But Alice is with him, and I am sure she wouldn't stand for it. Gee! It is tough on Alice! Tom Harding tells me that the engagement is off." Here was work for the woman who had learned leadership—in society. "Only for the present, I am sure. Alice has a mistaken idea of her duty toward her father. I shall send for her today. Matters must be ar ranged so that her prospects are not affected. Are you all right for money, dear?" "For a day or two—that's all. You know, this Is a confoundedly expen sive way to live," said Ken, with no idea at all of living any other way. "And scarcely suitable. But we will talk of that tonight. You will dine with me, won't you, dear?" The boy stood with quick courtesy as his mother rose. He came to her side, and she took him into her arms. "Yes, thanks. I'll love dining with you again, mother. But you must let me off early. I have an engagement that won't hear breaking." • Mary turned juickly—and Mrs. Nel son spoke with anxious premonition: "You are not doing anything silly, are you, dearf" The boy straightened a bit. with the conscious power of manhood. He loved—and he thought he could win the love he wanted. "I'm all right! I'm going to be a hustler after this. I've got 'some thing worth working for!" "Kenneth!" exclaimed Emily Nelson. Many turned, startled out of self repression. "What is it, Ken?" asked the girl breathlessly. Both women were anxious. In the eyes of each was the light of pro tecting longing—that maternal glow a good woman feels when she senses danger for her beloved. "You silly women! Why shouldn't I work? Don't stand popping your eyes out at me!" The boy laughed with easy mascu line superiority. § The perfect sweeten- In 2 and 5 pound Sealed jffi mm ingfor tea and coffee! I Packages—Full and mm Kail Each Domino has the B*?fel half-size pieces Sparkle Of purity. BSPnirotl the American sugar refininoco. \WT "I'm all right!" he boasted. He kissed his mother. And this time he did not see how softly glow ing was the pink of sweet Marx's cheek! "You are all I have now, Ken!" Emily Nelson spoke with a sad ten derness. She could not know how dangerously near she was to losing that "all she had"—once and for ever! "We are going to be happy—all of us! You'll see! Goodby. mother." Kenneth spoke with the'easy boast fulness of one who sees his own joy Just within reach. Mary Burk could not quite see how they were all to be happy! As Mrs. Nelson swept ahead down the corridor, she stepped back Into the room, and with a deep, feeling voiced her unselfish plea to Ken. "Your father, Ken! He loves you!" Ken had taken her hand -with the friendly glow of long years of friendship and affection. He dropped It now with harsh suddenness. "Goodby, Mary. Fine feeling and beauty of purpose flooded Mary's eyes and turned her voice to the liquid music of her own Celtic poets. "Ken! Her heart Is just breaking for him!" "Come, Mary," called Mrs. Nelson. And' Fate and Nature must again bide their time. "I will see you tonight. The front elevator is most convenient, mother. I'll take you to your car." "Car!" cried that lady of luxury a little bitterly. "It is only a taxi." "Oh, I say! There is no need of that. You should have the things that belong to your prosition, you know." Ken's assured voice trailed off down the hall. Potter came out to the phone to order that "luncheon for a lady." Continued Tomorrow Not So Clever "Look here," said a gentleman to a railway station master, "don't you think that thing is rather dangerous where—" "Why!" interrupted the official ad dressed, who had just been promoted, "you've noticed that barrow, have you, sir? You're going to make aft suggestion about the place where it ought to stand, I suppose? Might I question, sir, and ask your opinion about the the position of the ticket office. Do you think that the signal box is in the right place? Shouldn't the station master's house be shifted a few yards further west? Any opin ion you would like to express, slr\ shall have immediate attention." The traveler went away, and the station master turned around triumph antly to the guard of a train waiting In the siding. "Ha, ha!" he laughed. "Did you see the sport I had with, that old nui sance? I soon shut him up." "I'm not so sure of that," replied the guard. 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