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wHEvaman MAMHE5 ", ffiOKCMiMani ^d^yP^SC TtiE CIRCULAR STAIRCASE* THE HAN IN LOWER TEN, ETCi CQf>YR/G*r. /9Q9AY .rm OOOO^-riC/f/f/J.ClCOM/^t SYNOPSIS. jRm«» Wilson or Jimmy as he la called kT. !? f"er’d*' .J|n»my was rotund and looked shorter than he really was. His ambition in life was to be taken seriously but people steadily refused to do so. hta art is considered a huge Joke, except to iiuncelf, Ir he asked people to dinner ev £Tn’ileir~,iP*?te<5*5 *ro*lc- Jimmy marries Bella Knowles; they live together a year and are divorced. Jimmy’s friends ar ™u*e celebrate the first anniversary of Ms divorce. The party Is In full swing when Jimmy receives a telegram from his Aunt Selina, who will arrive In four hours to visit him and his wife. Jimmy gets his funds from Aunt Selina and after he mar ries she doubles his allowance. He neg lects to te l her of his divorce. Jimmy takes Kit into his confidence, he tries to devise some way so that his aunt will not learn thnt he has no longer a wife. He suggests that Kit play the hostess tor one night, be Mrs. Wilson pro tern. Aunt Se lina arrives and the deception works out as Planned. Jim’s Jap servant Is taken III. Bella, Jimmy’s divorced wife, enters the house and asks Kit who Is being ta ken away In the ambulance? Bella Insists !t Is Jim. Kit tells her .Tim Is well and Is In the house. Bella tells Kit It wasn’t Jim she wanted to see. but Takahlra. the Jap servant. Harblson steps out on the porch and discovers a man tacking a card on the door. He demands an ex planation. The man points to the placard and Harblson sees the word ‘‘Smallpox” f tinted on It. The guests suddenly realize heir predicament, the women Bhed tears, the men consider It a good 1oke. Harbl son pleads with Kit to tell him the real situation of things. She finally tells htm of Bella’s Incarceration In the basement. The all Important question arises as to who Is to prepare the meals and perform the other household duties. Harblson fin ally solves the matter. He writes out slips containing the various departments of his or her duties. Kit attempts to make an omelet for Aunt Selina, but falls In the attpmDt and Is In a very nervous state when Harblson comes to her rescue and tells her how to make It. After the lifting of the quarantine several letters are found In the mall box undelivered, one Is addressed to Henry Uewellyn. Tqulque, Chile, which was written by Har Mson. He describes mlnutelv of Ihelr In carceration, also of his Infatuation for Mrs. Wilson. Harblson attempts to patch up one quarrel after another between Kit and Jimmy. Aunt Selina Is taken 111 with la grippe. Betty acts as nurse. CHAPTER IX. (Continued.) Betty had been making tea for Aunt Selina, and of course when she heard u* up there, she followed, tray and all, and we drank Aunt j>ellna's tea and had the first, really nice time of the day. Bella had come up, too, but she was still standoffish and queer, and she stood leaning against a chimney and staring out over the river. After a little Mr. Harblson put down his cup and went over to her, and they talked quite confidentially for a long time. I thought It bad taste in Bella, under the circumstances, after snubbing Dal las and Max, and of course treating J1m like the dirt under her feet, to turn right around and be lovely to Mr. Harblson. It was hard for Jim. Max came and sat beside me, and Flannigan, who had been sent down for more cups, passed tea, putting the tray on top of the chimney. Jim was sitting grumpily on the roof, with his feet folded under him, playing Canfield ' In ‘ e shadow of the parapet, buying t.ie deck out of cue pocket and pitting J^'TVTrinlSB "in the other. 'He was ^watehtn* B$la, too, and she knew it, and she straftaed a point to captivate Mr. Harhison. Any one could see that. And that was the picture that came out in the next morning’s papers, tea cups. cards and all. For when some one looked up, there were four news paper photographers on the roof of the next house, and they had the imperti nence to thank us! Flannigan had seen Bella by that tliue, but as he still didn’t understand the situation, things were just the Same. But his manner to me puzzled me; whenever he came near me he winked prodigiously, and during all the search he kept one eye on me, and seemed to be amused about some thing. When the rest had gone down to dress for dinner, which was being sent in, thank goodness, I still sat on the parapet and watched the darkening river. I felt terribly lonely, all at once, and sad. There wasn’t any one any nearer than father, in the West, or mother in Bermuda, who really cared a rap whether I sat on that; par apet all night or not, or who would bo sorry if 1 leaped to the dirty bricks of the next door-yard—not that I meant to, of course. The lights came out across the mil tmwlp nnrnln and vellow streaks on the water, and one ofv the motor-boats came panting back to the yacht club, coughing and gasping as if it had overdone. Down on the street automobiles were starting and stop ping, cabs rolling, doors slamming, all the maddening, delightful bustle of people who are foot-free to dine out, to dance, to go to the theater, to do any of the thousand possibilities of a long February evening. And above them I sat on the roof and cried. Yes, cried. I was roused by some one coughing Just behind me, and I tried to straight en my face before I turned. It was Flannigan, his double row of brass buttons gleaming in the twilight. “Excuse me, miss,” he said affably, “but the boy from the hotel has left the dinner on the doorstep and run, the cowardly little divil! What'll I do with it? I went to Mrs. Wilson, but she says it’s no concern of hers.” Flan nigan was evidently bewildered. "You’d better keep It warm, Flan nigan,” I replied. “You needn’t wait; I’m coming.” But he did not go. ^ “If—If you'll excuse me, miss," he said, “don’t you think ye’d better tell them?” "Tell them what?" “The whole thing—the Joke, he said confidentially, coming closer. "It's been great sports now, basn t it. But rm afraid they will get on to it Boon, and—some of them might not be agreeable. A pearl necklace is a pearl necklace, miss,' and the lady’s wild. "What do you mean?” I gasped. "You don't think—why, Flannigan— He merely grinned at me and thrust his hand down In his pocket. When he brought it up he had Bella’s brace let on his palm, glittering In the faint light i liw; v Where did you get' It?" Between relief and the absurdity- of the thing, * was almost hysterical, flat Flann can did not give me the bracelet; In stead. it struck me his tone was sud Sanlv aevara “Now look here, miss,” be raid; "you've played your trick, and you’ve had your fun. The Lord knows it's only folks like you would play April fool jokes with a fortune! If you’re the sinslkle little woman you look to be, you’ll put that pearl collar on the coal in the basement tonight, and let me find It." "I haven’t got the pearl collar,” I protested. “I think you are crazy. Where did you get that bracelet?” He edged away from me, as if he expected me to snatch it from him and run, but he was still trying in an ele phantine way to treat the matter as a joke. "I found it in a drawer in the pan try.” he said, “among the dirty linen. And if you’re as smart as I think you are, I’ll find the pearl collar there In the morning—and nothing said, miss.” So there I was, suspected of being responsible for Anne’s pearl collar, as if 1 had not enough to worry me be fore. Of course I could have called them all together and told them, and made them explain to Flannigan what I had really meant by my delirious speech in the kitchen. But that would have meant telling the whole ridicu lous story to Mr. Harbison, and hav ing him think us all mad, and me a fool. In all that overcrowded house there was only one place where I could be miserable with comfort. So I stayed on the roof, and cried a little and then became angry and walked up and down, and clenched my hands and bab bled helplessly. The boata on the river were yellow, horizontal streaks through my tears, and an early search light sent its shaft like a tangible thing in the darkness, just over my head. Then, finally, I curled down in a corner with my arms on the parapet, and the lights became more and more prismatic and finally formed them selves Into a circle that was Bella's saw that In an Instant, tor he shat Mr teeth over something that soundei very fierce, and strode away from m« to stand looking out over the river with his hands thrust In his pocket? Of course the thing I should hav< done was to ignore what he had sale' altogether, but he was so Uncomfort able, so chastened, that, feline, feml nine, whatever the instinct is, I coulr not let him go. I had been s> wretched myself. “What is it you would like to say?’ I called over to him. He did not speak. "Would you tell me that I am a silly child for pouting?" No reply; he struck a match. “Or would you preach a nice little sermon about people—about women—loving their husbands?" He grunted savagely under his breath. "Be quite honest," I pursued relent lessly. “Say that we are a lot of barbarians, say that eecause my—be cause Jimmy treats me outrageously— oh, he does; any one can see that— and because I loathe him—and any one can tell that—why don’t you say you are shocked to the depths?” 1 was a little shocked myself by that time, but I couldn’t stop, having started. He came over to me, white-faced and towering, and he had the audacity to grip my arm ana stana me on my feet, like a bad child—which I was, I dare say. “Don’t!” he said In a husky, very pained voice. “You are only talking: You don’t mean it. It isn't you. You know you care, or else why are you crying up here? And don't do i! again, don*t do it again—or I will—” “You will—what?” “Make a fool of myself, as I have now,” he finished grimly. And theu he stalked away and left me then alone, completely bewildered, to find my way down in the dark. I groped along, holding to the rail, fo. the staircase to the roof was very steep, and I went slowly. Half-way down the stairs there was a tiny land ing, and I stopped. I could hare sworn I heard Mr. Harbison's foot steps far below, growing fainter. 1 even smiled a little, there in the dark, although I had been rather profoundly shaken. The next Instant I knew 1 had been wrong; some one was on the landing with me. I could hear short sharp breathing, and then— I am not sure that I struggled; in Say That We Are a Lot of Barbarians. bracelet, and that kept . whirling around and around on something flat and not over-clean, that was Flanni gan's palm. CHAPTER X. On the Stairs. I was roused by some one walking across the roof, the cracking of tin under feet, and a comfortable and companionable odor of tobacco. I moved a very little, and then I saw that it was a man—the height and erectness told me which man. And just at that Instant he saw me. “Good Lord!” he ejaculated, and throwing his cigar away he came across quickly. "Why, Mrs. Wilson, what in the world are you doing here? I thought—they said—” “That I was sulking again?” 1 fin ished disagreeably. “Perhaps I am. In fact, I’m quite sure of it.” “You are not,” he said severely. “You have been asleep In a February night, in the open air, with less cloth ing on than I wear in the tropics." I had got up by this time, refusing his help, and because my feet were numb, I sat down on the parapet for a moment. Oh, I knew what I looked like—one of those “Valley-of-the-Nile After-a-Flood” ee. "Then lg about you that is comforting, uiffed. "You said precisely the ue thing to me at three o’clock this morning. You never startle me by saying anything unex pected.” He took a step toward me, and even in the dusk I could see that he was looking down at me oddly. All my bravado faded away id there was a queerish ringing my ears. •T would like to!” he said tensely. *T would like, this minute—Tm a fool, Mrs. Wilson," he finished miserably. "I ought to be drawn and quartered, but when I see you like this I—I get craay lf ,o» w fact, I don’t believe I did—I was too limp with amazement. The creature, to have lain In wait for me like that! And he was brutally strong: Ha caught me to him fiercely, and held me there close, and he kissed me—not once or twice, but half a dozen times, long kisses that filled me with hot shame for him, for myself, that I had —liked him. The roughness of his coat bruised my cheek: I loathed him. And then some one came whistling along the hall below, and he pushed me from him and stood listening, breathing in long, gasping breathB. I ran: When my shaky knees would hold me, I ran. I wanted to hide my hot face, my disgust, my dis illusion: I wanted to put my head in mother’s lap and cry: I wanted to die, or be ill, so I need never see him again. Perversely enough, I did none of those things. With my face still flaming, with burning eyes and hands that shook, I made a belated evening toilet and went slowly, haughtily, down the stairs. My hands were like iee, but 1 was consumed with rage. Oh, 1 would show him—that this wsb New York, not Iquique; that the roof was not his Andean tableland. Every one elaborately Ignored my absence from dinner. The Dallas Browns, Max and Lollis were at bridge; Jim was alone in the den, walking the floor and biting at an un lighted cigar; Betty had returned to Aunt Selina and was hysterical, they said, and Elannigan was in deep de jection because I had missed my din ner. (TO bb CQNTnsrcjgp.) Will the Ask Him Again? She (for the fortieth time)—Will yoo love me when I'm old, George? He (goaded to extreme measures)— Do yon expect to be as fat as your mother? < She (frightened)—How can l tell? He (fiercely)—Then see that yon don’t; Bahgs hat on head and exits, slam ming the door. ' 7 iroiism fM the anil the histories n, the mother imortal mem who ancient received the Divinlan and ht it forth, a to light the ! How solemn iow pitiful she pon the rocky ■us of her hills, 1 in the gaunt of her two 38 and looking is canons and to the lifeless of the Plain Forlorn and brought to desolation In her sad old age, *a childless and de serted Nlobe, or some old goddess shorn of deity, she yet, amid her squalid poverty, holds out to you the sacred chalice of remembered things, and sends her temple veil to let you through into the holy of her living past. But in the spirit only may you see that past— £or outwardly she bears no seep tered majesty, as Rome or Athens do, with which to point to you the footprints of her memorial hours. About her, her prophetic desolation lies and misery has clothed her aB a garment — from the waste and barren aspect of her limestone hills, unfruitful Anri smirao/l with only here and there a gnarled and blighted olive tree—a lonely palm—a gloomy cypress, to dot their white and wind swept slopes; from bookless Kedron and arid Hinnom, to the poverty and squalor of her streets. Viewed from afar, indeed, some re minder of past dignity still clings about her. High-perched upon her zion-mount, surrounded by her crum bling, massive crenelated walls, en forced with bastion and many an ancient tower, there is a martial, an tique grandeur in her look, not out of keeping with her early pride. But once within the walls, the splen dor fades, and disillusionment falls heavy on the spirit. Close-crowded, stony, colorless, the gray walls of the houses rise on either side of narrow, filthy streets, each with its door re vealing want and wretchedness and dirt, each with flat roof and tiny cupola—monotonously similar, mo notonously mean. No pavements dig ;h their s, mules in close here and the si at alone maket then, In deed, building meets a church, a mosque with dome and minaret, a bit of Roman ruin, or a glimpse of picturesque and Oriental arabesque. Tet little by little Jerusalem spells out her message for you—from David's tower, which Herod built where David’s palace stood, and in whose shadow Christ must once have rested; from Omar’s mosque that fills the ancient temple site with barbaric splendor; from the mouldering ruins that mark the enclosure of the Knights of St. John; from Roman tow er, from crescent and from cross, the city speaks to us. Her fates and her vicissitudes be long to those historic moods that make the whole world kin. Since David built her first, on Canaan’s soil, she has felt the ambitious pulse alike of Babylonian, Assyrian, Egyptian, Ro man, Saracen and Turk. By all alike has she been coveted, and fought for and possessed. She has seen mighty empires rise and flourish and pass into the misty limbo of forgotten things. And from her own ashes and WQUt OF OMAR the dust of falling nations she arises, and while they vanish she remains. Wars and destructions, and the hates of kings! What wonder that the land Is desolate, and that the city sleeps in wretchedness, with but the dreams of vanished splendor woven for a crown? Unlovely and unbeautiful, indeed! And yet a holy city and a triple shrine. A three-fold robe of venera tion shrouds her. For not alone to the Christian does she hold symbolic things. To every Jew she is still their David's Zion, this old Jerusalem, the city of the Pslamlst and the King; the witness yet of splendid Solomon— a memory and a hope to be fulfilled. The Moslem holds her second but to Mecca in her sanctity—for here the prophet’s heavenward journey was be gun—and here the Mosque of Omar stands, most splendid monument of Islam. A wondrous thing—this Dome qf the Rock, indeed. Surrounded by great walls it stands on Mount Moriah —where once the temple stood—gar dens, fountains and shady palms sur round it; arcades, with minarets and multiple-pointed arches form its, ap _nrkiu ' a meeKIn r\lnt. form rises the mosque itself—a glis tening marvel of encaustic tiles, blue and green, purple and gold—all inter laced in delicate arabesques—the only piece of Oriental splendor in all this dismal Oriental town! But now at Easter week Jerusalem’s sleep is broken and all her streets are filled with busy life and color, for now three faiths keep festival, and pil grims flock from near and far to pray at their most sacreij shrihes. From the entempted Doric hills of green (those earthly slopes of Jove’s Olympia) Greece, with her golden suns and silvery olive groves; from far Siberia; Auroran haloed daughter of the North; from Jaffa and the Sea of Galillea; from crescent-crowned Damascus, have they come—a pied and motley throng that overflows the streets, impassably. Here you may see the native peasants in bright yel low turbans and striped robes; Ar menian pilgrims with their broad red sashes; Jews in Oriental garb, or with the curls and fur cap of the Pharisee; Russians, knee-booted, and long haired Greek monks; Turkish sol diers, black-skinned dervishes, Nu bians, Hindoos, Persians, Tartars, Arabs—a very picturesque kaleido scope of nations—a sea of tropical florescence that ebbs and flows be neath the moon of faith, whose phases change, but whose great circling truth is one eternally. Borne on the surge and resurge of the human tide you find yourself in evitably cast up before that central rock of Christendom, the pale Church of the Holy Sepulchre. But not to pause for long. The Romanesque and vaulted limestone vastness of the place seems earthly, tawdry, bare of that dignity its site should have en dued it with; and so, although its gilded splendors mark the homage of barbaric ages, although the spot is drenched with martyrdom, although the knees and kisses of centuries of worship have worn the stones away with rapt sincerity, although the can dle lights burn solemnly about the rosy-hued Anointing Stone, although the very tomb itself be here, yet all the tinsel, pomp, theatric pageantry, but mar the thrill, the sanctity and the transcendent sweetness of that Life, that Death—so simple and so great. No, not here; but rather in some nuiPt Olive Errove without the walls. where it may be that once he sat alone; where spring is showing now, despite the ages’ blight, the early green and silver of the leaf; where, beneath the rounded Pascal moon, Jerusalem looks fair and beautiful and clothed in mystery; where faintly comes the calling of the muezzin from the tower, the glad hosanna from the far-off church, blending in unison of praise to* the on# *ed; here may the city’s immemorial heart beats reach your ear, the ultimate spirit-whisper of her soul, the silent music of her Calvary, the message of the deathless ness "of life, whereby forlorn Jeru salem still hopes', even while she looks out over Kedron’s naked gorge and Moab’s purple and eternal hills be yond the Valley of the Salt Dead Sea. ____ Beats Sonneteering. The late David Graham Phillips, as is the way of bachelors, struck many a satirical blow at matrimony. A sonneteer, having married last autumn, came up for discussion one evening in the Manhattan club. “Do you suppose his wife really sup ports him?" an editor asked. “I know it,” said Mr. Phillips. "He told me he didn't know what real happiness meant till after he got mar ried." An Explanation. “And why, Tommy, do you suppose Diogenes was so anxious to find an honest man?" “Pa says he probably wanted to sell him a gold brick.” Thine Easter Day . ... ■ - — — — — - Within thine heart is there an open tomb? Have God's strong angels rolled the stone away? Rises thy dead self from its bonds of clay? Breaks heaven’s sweet delight across the dark and gloom? Then is this day in truth thine Eas ter Day. If broken down are stony gates of pride. If shrouded bands of earth are torn away, If sin and wrath and acorn in thee have died. Mourn not the past. The folded shroud beside Angels will watch; it is thine Eas ter Day. Rise, new-born soul, and put thine ar mor on; Clasp round thy breast the garment of the light; Gird up thy loins for battle. In the fight He leads who upward from our sight has gone; , It is His day; there's no more death nor night No dark, no hurt, no more sharp shame nor loss; All buried, hidden, 'neath the grave’s dark sod; All ways forgotten, save the road He trod; All burdens naught in sight of His— the cross; All joy, alive and safe with Christ and God! —Mary Lowe Dickinson. Couldn’t Scare Veteran Chief Justice White, who is one of the most amiable men in the world oft the bench, is a terror to the law yers that appear before the Supreme court to argue cases. He can argue a case himself in French, Spanish or English, and perhaps in some other languages. He is a student of philol ogy, and when a lawyer is threshing about as to the meaning of some word, the chief justice is apt to break out with something like this: “Give the Greek derivation of it." A common e» oression from the chief justice is: “Il lustrate it; Illustrate it” To have the chief justioe lean over the bench and explode a questign under a green law yer is apt toinake the . latter lose his feet complelfeiy. Some days ago, when the attorney general was argu ing in the Standard Oil case, the chief Justice shot but: “Give an illustration of if’ But it didn’t scare Lawyer Wlckersham. He had Keen in court - * - J nod He ^prc*eed tell, and seemed to satisfy the court with it. Collector’s Find. A Copenhagen dispatch announces that a local architect, M. Achen, no ticed in a miscellaneous assortment of antiquities in the shop of a dealer In Bredgade quarter a ring with which he was impressed. He bought it for two kronen, and when at home cleaned and examined it carefully. He was not long in convincing himself that he had acquired for a modest price a ring of antiquity of great value. \ M. Achen to make sure about the -ring that he had obtained in so cas ual a manner In the curiosity shop at Copenhagen sent it to the British mu seum for the opinion of experts there, and he was informed that the ring looked very like a copy of that worn by Michael Angelo, the original of which was preserved in the Louvre learned that Michael Angelo’s ring had been stolen from the museum in 1812. It seems probable that the architect has acquired the ring that disappeared from the Louvre just a century ago. To Protect Children. A delegation of women in Chicago, headed by Jane Addams, has drafted a bill to be presented to the legislature which will make all the little street merchants under fourteen years of age, under the protection of the board of education. The bill will empower the board of education to Issue li censes and this will give them the right to inquire into the business of the child and to see that it Is not harmed in any way, morally or physio ally. Hasn't Got His Yet. FREE I P A trial package of Munyon’s Paw Paw Pills will l>e sent free to anyone on re quest. Address Professor Munyon, 53.1 1S1 Jefferson Sts., Philadelphia, Pa. If you ara in need of medical advice, do not fail to write.. Professor Munyon. Your communi cation will be treated in strict confidence, and your case will be diagnosed as care fully as though you had a personal inter view. Munyon’s Paw Paw Pills are unlike all other laxatives or cathartics. They coax the liver into activity by gen.let methods. They do not scour, they d> not gripe, they do not weaken, but they do start all the secretions of the liver and stomach in a way that soon puts these organs in a healthy condition and corrects constipation. In my opinion constipation is responsible for most ail ments. There are 26 feet of human bowels, which is really a sewer pipe. Jig When this pipe becomes clogged the whole system becomes poisoned, caus ing biliousness, indigestion and impure blood, which otten produce rneumau.-iu and kidney ailments. No woman who suffers with constipation or any liver ailment can expect to have a clear complexion or enjoy good health. If I had my way I would prohibit the sale of nine-tenths of the cathartics that are now being 'sold for the reason that they soon destroy the lining of the stomach, setting up serious forms of indigestion, and so paralyze the bowels that they re fuse to act unless forced by strong purgatives. Mnnyon’s Paw Paw Pills are a tonic to the stomach, liver and nerves. They invigorate instead of weaken; they en rich the blood instead of impoverish it; they enable the stomach to get all the nourishment from food that is put into it. These pills contain no calomel, no dope; they are soothing, healing and stimulating. They school the bowels to act without physic. Regular size bottle, containing 45 pills, 25 cents. Munyon’s Laboratory, 53d A o Jefferson Sts., Philadelphia. IN THE VERNACULAR. i 1 ~v* Rooster—Your wife’s laying for you! Drake—Gee! I guess I’ll duck. You Never Can Tell. A certain ’cellist was once snow bound for three hours at a small rail road station. He unpacked his ’cello and played his dozen fellow sufferers a request program with the result that one of them took him to Europe for a year. You never can tell as you bear your precious fiddle-case through the streets what magic casement may not open on the foam (of steins), and what fairy hand may not beckon you within to do the one thing peedful to opus flfty-nifte, or draw a 'valiant bow in the battle of Schumann quiiftet.— Robert H. Schauffler, in the Atlantic. . ■ -_ it An Individualist. The reason for the individual drink ing cup had been explained again and again to the children and they had become sturdy supporters of the idea. So it was not surprising to hear Henry calling: “Ma, ma! Melville’s got my individual apple!” There Is an ancient saying, famous among men, that thou shouldst not judge fully of a man’s life before he dieth, whether it should be called blest or wretched.—Sophocles. The better you behave the better you’ll get along. Now, try it. -'I It Does The Heart Good j To see how the little folks enjoy ] Post ;■! Toasties with cream Sweet, crisp bits of pearly white com, rolled and toasted to an appetizing brown. “The Memory Lingers” POSTUM CEREAL CO., Ltd., Battle Creek, Mich. V___ iiiiini nil i .. -.