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?" Every Man Hates the Thought That His Wife's Patience Is the Outgrowth of Getting Along With Him *J>
THEIR MARRIED LIFE Their New Year Eve Celebration Turns Out to Be Expensive MABEL HERBERT URNER SUUIU comfort this,'* yawned Warren, settling himself by the library table. "Beats scouting ■■round with any New Years eve crowd all hollow." "It does, doesn't It?" Helen drew nearer her work basket. "Dear, our evenings at home are always the best. Think of how much money we ■pent last year—and what did we get ©ut of It?" "Rotten headache the next day." "It does seem so foolish," with an ■dr of superiority, "for people to crowd in noisy, stuffy restaurants and spend a lot of money Just because It's New Year's eve. You'd think—" "Now, who In the devil's that?" "Til answer It," putting down her embroidery and going over to the phone. "Yes? • • • Oh —Hello. Not a thing—we've decided to have a quleet evening at home. • • • Oh. you're downstairs? Oh, no! I—l—wait—you speak to War ren." "It'ss Mr. Stevens," she whispered as Warren took the receiver. "They're downstairs in the car and want us to go out with them." "Hello, old man! • • • Why, I guess not; we thought we'd cut it out this year. • • • Which way did yo uocme? p ÜBroadway? Pret ty much of a crowd? Well, hold the wire a minute." Placing his hand over the receiver. Warren turned to Helen. "See here, they just want us to drive around town a bit. They say it's not cold and there's a big crowd out. What do you think?" "But. dear," began Helen, protest ingly, "I thought we were—" "All right," speaking into the phone —for when Warren asked Helen's opinion it was only to give him time to make up his own mind. "'We'll be right down." "But. Warren, I'm not dressed!" "Well, hustle into anything. We'll not get out of the car." Although she hated to be hurried, Helen could dress quickly, and In a few moments she was ready. The Stevenses had driven around the block, but the car drew up again as they came down. THE SAME INTRNTION "We were going to stay in thjs evening, too," admitted Mrs. Stevens, as Helen settled herself under the fur robe beside her. "But Henry got res tive. Will you be warm enough in that?" feeling Helen's rather thin coat. Henry's fur coat Is right there under the seat." As it was growing colder Helen was glad to slip it on. Uptown the streets were quiet- But as they aped down Broadway they ran Into the New Year crowd. There was nothing new, nothing different from what It had been last year or the year before—the same ear split ting horns, bells and whistles. Helen wondered how any one could get up the en -huslasm year after year to take part In this pushing, crowd ing atreet hilarity. In spite of the extra force of police men the crowd overflowed the side walks Into the streets, barring the progress of the cars, whose constant ly squawking horns added to the gen eral din. "Can't get through that crush," for now the people were massed black ahead. "Getting cold, anyway," grum bled Mr. Stevens. "We'd better go in somewhere and see what's doing." "Oh, but we cam't get a table now, can we?" ventured Helen. "Every thing's engaged." "Not this year. Not when Wall street's broke," declared Warren. "I'll wager we can get a table anywhere." "How about Maxwell's, Mr. Stevens suggested. "That's right above here." When they drew up before Max well's Helen left the car reluctantly, feeling that she was neither dressed nor in the mood for this place. "Tickets, sir," demanded the head waiter as they entered. "No, we haven't a table reserved. See if you can get us one," and Mr. Stevens slipped him a bill. "I'll see what I can do for you. sir." The next moment he had taken a "reserved" card from one of the most desirable tables in the room and seat ed them with a nourish. "That shows they're hard put." laughed Mr. Stevens. "Last year you couldn't have touched this table with a two-spot. Why, there's Jo Hillard," rising to speak to some friends at a table just back of them. "Well, what'll we have?" asked Warren. •'We're serving only a special sup per, sir; $5 a plate," volunteered the waiter, distributing the gayiy deco rated supper cards. "The devil you are! Why didn't you tell us that when we came In?" "Each supper includes a pint of champagne, sir," conciliated the waiter. THE BKST .OF IT "But, dear, we don't want supper, do we?" whispered Helen. "Might as weli see it through, now we're here. How about it, Stevens?" as Mr. Stevens now returned to their table. "They're serving only a |i supper. Shall we stay?" "Why, yes. Not much doing now, but guess they'll whoop it up later." There was a special cabaret pro gram, and the stage at the end of the dining room was profusely decorated With holiy *nd colored lights. Hut The Calland Post's Magazine and Fiction Pages the atmosphere of festivity seemed forced. "No, it's not nearly so lively as It was at Chandler's last year," observed Mrs. Stevens when a song and dance trio had finished their turn with only a feeble ripple of applause. "Told you Wall street was broke. I was down there last week. Jove, those brokers are a blue lot! They'll not spend much tonight. Hold on there!" demanded Warren. "Let's see that label!" Reluctantly the waiter unwrapped the napkin from the bottle. "Thought so! If you serve cham pagne with your supper, why don't you serve a decent brand? Rather have a good bottle of beer than that stuff." "Look," whispered Mrs. Stevens, as a woman in a heavily beaded evening gown swept . by. "I saw that very gown at Ardman's last week—s2so!" "We're about the only people here not dressed," complained Helen. "Oh, they don't care what you wear —long as you spend your money." As it drew near 12 the tables be gan filling up, but It was not the hi larious crowd of last New Year. Every one had the champagne served with the dinner, but few ordered more. "Hard times" were apparent- Helen was wondering if Warren would have to pay the bill. While Mr. Stevens was always willing W do his part, somehow it was always Warren who paid. Because they went in the Stevenses car. Warren always felt under obligations to pay more than his share of their outings. But tonight, as neither she nor Warren had wanted to go out. Helen thought this should be the Stevens party. The thought that she was not dressed rankled, too. If she had known they were going to supper she would have worn her Paris gown and her lavalliere. But to spend all this money and feel uncomfortable and In appropriately dressed it seemed such a waste. With the first stroke of 12 came the customary turning off of the lights and a burst of hilarity. After this the merriment soon died out. In marked contrast to last year, when It had kept up until almost dawn. "Well, this seems pretty dead." ob served Warren. "Ready to goT* "Here, that's mine," protested Mr. Stevens, when the waiter brought the check. AN ARGUMENT "Nothing of the kind," as Warren took possession of It. "Now, look here, Curtis, we brought you out. This is my supper." But already Warren was taking some bills from his wallet. "Then let's match for it," Mr. Ste vens drew out a quarter. "All right," laughed Warren. "Tails." Mr. Stevens flipped the coin. Helen leaned forward tensely. It was heads! Warren would have to pay! Somehow It always came out that way. She could not see the check, but it must be at least twenty-five—the suppers alone were twenty, besides the mineral waters, cigars, cordials and the tip. The drive home through the now deserted streets was as depressing as the drive home always is after an evening of stimulated gayety. Helen kept thinking of the twenty five dollars and of how little they had for it. She could have bought a Persian rug for the hall for twenty five dollars! And all the table linen that would have bought! She was planning to get some during the January white goods sales. And the candelabra she wanted for the dining room! What they had spent on this supper would have bought a wonderful cadelabra! When the Stevenses dropped them at their door their "good night!" and their final "Happy new year" were most perfunctory. "Well, our quiet evening at home turned out to be a rather expensive one," was Helen's untactful comment as she switched on the lights i». their darkened hall. 'Now, what do you mean by that?" savaigely. "Hinting at my paying that check? Well, when I go any where—l'll keep up my end! Under stand? What do you want me to be, anyway— apiker?" Helen, remembering that the new year was hardly an hour old, did not year was hardly an hour old, did not want to begin it with discord. "No, dear," resting her head for a moment against his arm; "I'm glad you DO your share. You know. |'m just as fiercely independent as you are! I just meant that if we'd stayed at home, we'd have saved that much. Hut it's horrid and mercenary of me to think of it that way." Not the Same Robert E. Chambers, at a literary luncheon in Garden City, replied to an attack on publishers made by a young writer. "If there is a demand for an au thor's book," said Mr. Chambers, "he will find his publisher anxious to tr«"»it him fairly and even generously. Of course here are exceptions—my friend Blank's publisher, for Instance, was an exception. "After a short conversation one day in Fifth avenue, Blank, on taking leave of me. said: " 'By the way. do you remember my telling you that my publisher said he would raise my royalties in a month or so?' "'Yes,' I replied, 'hasn't he?' " "No. T misunderstood him. He meant he'd try and raise the back royalties due on the last year's sales of my book. I haven't had a cent jet.'- . .. 1914: "Excuse Me, It's My Dance" The Sandman Stories Children's Bedtime Tales The following delightful Sandman story tells of the wedding of Puff and Nina Kitten, two fascinating kits, which was witnessed by Snowball, Kit, Midnight and others of the family and friends. THE WEDDING SNOWBALL and Kit were in their , accustomed place in the barn doorway, sunning themselves, and Midnight was playing just outside, when he suddenly called to them. "Wake up," he said, "here comes Puff and Miss Nina Kitten is with him." "I suppose you know what they are going to tell us," said Kit. "No," answered Snowball. "What Is It?" "I will not tell you." said Kit. "Walt and see." By that time Puff and Nina Kitten had reached the yard and Kit and Snowball went to meet them. Mid night following on behind. Nina Kitten blushed and hung her head when Snowball told her he was glad to see her and thanked him in the most timid manner. "Come and sit in the sun," said Kit, leading the way to the barn door. When they were all seated. Puff cleared his throat and moved about a little, and then he said. "Nina and I have come to tell you some news." "Indeed:" said Snowball; "we shall be glad to hear it." "I hope you will," said Puff, twirl ing his tall rather nervously. "Tou will not surprise me," said Kit- "I have been expecting to hear it every day for a long time. "Do tell us," said Snowball, begin ning to suspect by Nina Kitten's blushes. "Nina and I are to be married to morrow." said Puff, "and we want you and Kit to be ushers at the wedding. It will take place at noon in Nina's barn." Midnight giggled and Snowball looked at him very sternly ond told him to sit in the corner. Kit and Snowball told Puff they were very glad to have Miss Nina Kitten for a sister in law, and con gratulated him very heartily. "And I want Midnight to be ring bearer." said Nino Kitten. Midnight came out of the corner when he heard his name and wanted to know all about it. "You carry the ring on a cushion," explained Nina Kitten. Midnight was delighted to be in the bridal procession, and the next day he was dressed in a stiff white ruffle in place of the blue ribbon, and went to the wedding. When Nina Kitten came In all the cats and kittens said, "Oh, isn't she a lovely bride?" for she wore a long white veil and carried a shower bou quet of catnip that was the envy of young and old. Puff wore a white vest and a collar, which made him hold his head very high. Midnight, of course, wu ad mired very much, and "Doesn't he look cute?" was heard on all sides. He held the cushion very carefully, when all at once he stubbed his toe and down he went the ring rolling off in a corner. Midnight jumped up, but then a rat, who was viewing the wed ding party from a hole in the floor, ran out and picked up the ring and ran into the hole. He probably thought it was a piece of rich cheese. Everybody gasped, and Nina Kitten began to cry. "Oh. my ring!" she said. "I know it is bad luck, and I never shall be married, or something awful will happen if I am." But Midnight did not stop to hear her cry or wait to be told he was a careless kitten. He ran straight for the hole, and as It was quite large he poked his head and shoulders in as far as he could and caught the rat by the tall and pulled him out. Such a scramble as there was when the others saw the rat. Every one ran to Midnight's assistance, but so eager were they to get the ring that when the rat dropped it they all made a wild rush for it and Mr. Hat es caped with his life, but lost a tiny piece of his tail. Order was finally restored, and the wedding went on without further in terruption, and Miss Nina Kitten and Puff were married. "I do not think it takes very long to get married," said Midnight to Snowball, when the guests were crowding around the bride. "It doesn't," replied Snowball, "but it takes a long time to find a nice wife, and you usually stay married a long time." Then the refreshments were served and Midnight thought that the best part of the wedding. "Will you live at our house?" Mid night asked Nina Kitten. "No," she replied. "My mother does not want us to leave home." "We are very sorry to lose Puff," said Snowball, who heard the re mark. Nina Kitten said she supposed they would be, but it was not far to her house, and she should expect them to come often. "I wish there would be another wedding," said Midnight, as he walked home with Kit and Snow ball. "Perhaps there will be," said Snow ball, looking at Kit. "I intend to be a bachelor, but Kit may not." Kit said he had no intention at present of becoming a benedick, but he did not know what the future held in store for him. Copyright. IfllS. bj the McClure Newspaper SyDflTcate, New York Olty. Russian law forbids people to marry more than five times, or to contract a marriage after the age of 1 eighty. AT BAY A THRILLING STORY OF SOCIETY BLACKMAILERS tSOVKUZEU Bit Continued from Saturday "What's in that room?" asked the inspector in a curt tone. Then, still more curtly, he pushed Tommy before him into the darker inner den of the dead spider. The plain clothes men and Chief Dempster followed on the tour of inspection, leaving the room to the grim, sprawling dead form — tlie guardian of the camera, and the hopeful fighter for a lost cause. Larry Holbrook came and stood by the side of this other Irishman. On his face was a cordial smile that was Just matched by the unctuous one on Donnell's countenance. Larry's fingers were twitching to be at that camera. Donnell's fingers were firm on it. "Didn't ye have a brother named Mike Donnell in the Fifth cavalry?" began Captain Holbrook, in a pleas antly conversational tone. "No. captain," replied the guardian of the plate, smiling. Holbrook took a judicial survey of the other man. "Indeed? Well ye favor each other very much. " The bit of a brogue was very much In evidence for Its broth erly effect. Quite casually now he began to ex amine the camera. "Old fashioned sort of a contrivance that —eh, Don nell?" "Looks like a good one, though," returned Donnell with due import ance. "'Tis—German lens." And now, having seen just enough for his pur pose. Captain Holbrook changed the subject with, disarming purposeless ness. • "This Donnell I knew in the army used to be on the New York police force." the fingers twitched toward the camera again. But Donnell's eyes were twin watch dogs. "Yes —fine fellow, too, Mike—how long you been on the force?" "About five years—goin' on five," replied Donnell precisely. "Like It?" "It's a meal ticket," replied the po liceman grinning confidentially. "Which is the best on the average —the salary or the pickings?" asked Larry. SAVED! Donnell grinned. "Pickings. What's that?" In a tone of great innocence. "A policeman who doesn't know what 'pickings' is. Let me illustrate" —and the air suddenly had a large chunk of itself removed between a rapacious thumb and forefinger. "Have a cigar. Donnell." Slowly, a scarlet banded perfecto was switched from a pocket and car ried through the air to Just where Donnell could get its full fine aroma. Then, as the captain tried to hand his gift to the waiting recipient, his fingers became very stiff and awk ward and the cigar slipped to the floor. Still clutching the camera with his left hand Donnell stooped after his 'pickings'—and that was Hol brook's moment. By the time Donnell had acquired his cigar, the tell tale plate holder had gone to Join the booty in the pocket of the captain's dinner coat. As he stooped Donnell managed to articulate: "Yes, but ye know this atn't New York." Nell Brinkley Copyright. 1913. International News Service. And as he slipped the plate holder into his pocket Larry answered with knowledge: "Yes —but a policeman is a policeman the world over." "I guess that ain't no lie," replied Donnell. Larry was fairly bursting with jubi lant friendliness now. "You're all right. Donnell—and if anything ever happens to you here— your foot slips—and you n#ver can tell when It will—maybe I could help you to get a start In the BIG town"— "Think you could, sir?" "Indeed—and I do." And Larry was ready to welcome back to the room even such ,once dangerous foes as the chief and the inspector. "Chief, I don't suppose we can get back to the filibustering matter to night?" he queried. "No—captain—this has put a crimp in it." "Well, any time I can assist you"— said the victor with large generosity. "Not tonight. * • •" "Sure?" "Oh, I guess we have the matter fairly well in hand," answered Demp ster. For one moment that gave Hol brook pause. But he thought of the pockets of his dinner jacket and the sleeve of his topcoat and took heart of grace. He looped his coat over his arm and set his gray fedora on his head after a comprehensive sweep and salute. "Well, if you're sure there is noth ing I can do—goodnight." And he thought the battle won. But the battle had not yet begun. Over the table In his den sprawled the dead spider—poisonous, danger ous even in death. And in a dainty bedroom not far away a girl was staring out Into the night with eyes that were learning to look on horror. The men Holbrook left behind him in the spider's den went on with their grim business of tracking every pos sible clew that led to the destroyer of the poison creature before them. And the sprawling thing that had once been called by his fearful victims a dangerous and powerful man lay un disturbed across the table where he had fallen. Continued Tomorrow A little girl, finding her grand father dozing, clambered on to his knee and endeavored to awaken him by pulling his eyelashes. Annoyed at being disturbed from a peaceful nap, the old man scolded the child for her roughness. "Wough," she exclaimed, pouting, "I wasn't wough. I was only twying to open your eyes by the stwings." Women's Confidence in the efficacy of this thoroughly tried home remedy is never misplaced. In every way—in health, strength, spir its and in looks—women lind them selves better after timely use of BEECHAMS PILLS 3w!d •▼•rrwhere, Ia boxot. 10*., 23«. S??king a Husband CONSTANCE CLARKE ff/V H - is that the way you make I I them, Mary?" "Sure, an' Miss Peggy, how did you think you'd be makin' them?" "Oh, cut a hole out of the middle of each round thing, and fill It up with jelly, and bake It." Mary Interrupted with a burst of hilarious laughter, and as I patted and pinched the crust for the tarts, I decided that it must be harder to be a cook than a nurse. "You put the jelly in afterwards," said Mary, as she shoved the pan Into the oven. And I, full of pride that I was doing my first bit of bak ing for Dr. Hammond, who was com ing down to dinner, settled back In the big kitchen chair to wait for the tarts to bake. Mary bustled around the kitchen in the most businesslike way, and I sighed and looked reflectively out through the glass door of the laun dry. It was raining, just the kind of a steady rain that made me long for the cool pink and white couch up in the den, and tnat book that had just come up from the library. I tugged absently at my apron, and then, with my thoughts still far away, I woke to the fact that Mary was speaking to me. "Sure an' Miss Peggy, why don't you run upstairs and let me take care of the tarts? Who's to know the difference, child?" But I said decidedly: "No, Mary, I must do It my own self. Next time I'll know just how it's all done, and Doctor Hammond Just loves tarts." The tinkle of the telephone, and I flew upstairs. "Hello, yes, this is Miss Dean. Oh, Doctor Hammond? Yes, I'm very busy. I'm expecting company for dinner." "You're not coming? Why? Oh, of course you can't in a case like that. Why do people have to go and get hurt anyway? Yes, of course I un derstand. Don't you need me to help? 1 wish I could." "Do you really? Well, that helps some. Anyway I needed you to help me cheer up, It's such a horrid day. Oh, yes, and we're going to have tarts for dinner. Yes, I knew you'd be sorry. Next time? Well, maybe. You see I'm making them, and—" "Of course I can cook. Please don't jolly. Oh, no, you won't, you'll be too bus'- to miss even the tarts." "The tarts, perhaps, not you"—the words sang across the wire, and I sat down on the stairs in the dark and reflected. He really did want to come. And the thought that he would miss me even in the rush of an acci dent case, and the deepening of his voice when he said those last words— my face burned, and I put my fingers ■nnuunnnunnn tr PI 1 — Conover 1| ni —H 1 Piano 1 nj |ni I Built with ff s r "^ f 1| — ; _ tion suggests painstak- I>—»| P made-tO- Nowhere is g| ir-jl there an evidence of §pii hi J haste. It is made under fr-J jr-ji 01*Cier Cai*e the direct supervision of fH j h| one of America's great !t-j| est piano builders—a man who has spent more It—j| than forty years in the study of a single prob- iHI jr-jl lem—Tone Production. Considering its ex- jtH !0| cellence of workmanship, unusual tone qualities | jdj jr-j! and durability, it is more moderately priced Iql than any other really great piano of today. f:~ In! M If you are unable to call let us suggest that you write today or telephone for our hand- Idl jdl somely illustrated art catalog and full par- I " }0J ticulars regarding our easy monthly pay- I - ft-rf ment plan. Liberal allowance for your \t£i used piano. |*-*| tni |n| EI - to |l In Ir-rl Two Entrances Iwl jnj 135-153 Kearny St. and 217-225 Sutter St p |rj| OAKLAND: 510 Twelfth Street and 1105 Washington Street ij-jj Inl o p»^|iiiii.i»i..iit U - [mrr - n r~ 11111111111 Wm^t S nn nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnriTS i a,.,,,-,..,,,,,,..,,,,..,..—.„.„—.,,,.,,——, m „.,...„„.,.„ itiir-mii»iiiiiiiHH^""'""7'tmiii|^.J up over my eyes and wondered what had come over me. Just then, I wanted to be a nurse more than any thing else in the world, because I wanted to be where he was. Then I allowed myself to dwell upon the de lights of being a hospital nurse. The fascinating smell of the place, the restlessness and rush of It all. And then as it all came back to me that afternoon when I had first met him, the shine of his hair under the elec tric light and the funny little impulse I had to rumple It up, I smiled and thought it a good thing that men do not always know what we women are thinking about. Peggy, dear, you are learning, every day you know a little more, and yet you're a little frightened, you might as well 'fess up. Things are so very, very strange, and you don't know yourself as well as you thought you did, do you? "Miss Peggy, Miss Peggy." came Mary's ster.torian tones from the kit chen, "your tarts are burnin'; sure. Miss, you'd better be tendin' to them." And I flew to the rescue. "It's all right to be a nurse, Peggy," I scolded severely, as I pulled out the smoking pastry from the oven, "but it strikes me that you'd better learn to be a good cook first." But I felt a whole lot better when Mary, laughing at my dismayed face, said good natured ly, ''Sure an. Miss Peggy, you never know your luck; next time you'll be havln' better luck with your tarts, too." Mary is a natural born philoso pher. I INEXHAUSTIBLE ROME Skeffington S. Norton, the head of America's pioneer shipping firm, said at a dinner at Pelham Manor, apropos of a recent visit to Rome: "Rome is wonderful. Rome is in exhaustible. There is a story that de scribes Rome well. "The pope was giving audience. He said to a lady in black: " 'How long have you been In Rome?' " 'Three weeks,' the lady answered. " 'Ah,' said the pope, 'then you have seen Rome?' "And he turned to an American' merchant and asked: " 'And you, sir, how long have you been in Rome?' " Three months,' the American re plied. " 'You. then, have begun to see Rome.' said the pope. And he next accosted an elegant woman with gray hair. " 'How long, madam,' he asked, 'have you been here?' "'Three years,' the woman an swered. " 'You,' he said, "have not yet begun to see Rome.' "