The HOME BEAUTIFUL
Flowers and Shrubbery
Their Care and Cultivation
The Caladium or Elephanta’ Eara Ara Popular Bedding Plante.
The ealadlum esculentum or ele
phants' ears are popular bedding
plants. And now a little advice about
these. The seedsmen offer them in
different sizes, from those the size of
a large, unhulled walnut to the mon
HELPS IN FLOWER GROWING
By L. M. BENNINGTON.
'Weed seeds have more vitality than
flower seeds, tor after the flower beds
are made and the seeds sown, weeds
appear before the flowers. Don't
waste time weeding by band, but get
a good weeding hook and stir the soil,
killing the weeds.
Don’t spade the soil before the
moisture of winter and spring has
drained from it, so that it will pul
verize perfectly. If the soil drops
from the spade in moist, soggy lumps,
be sure it is not ready to work.
It is not a good plan to sow all an
nuals at the same time, nor plant
your summer blooming bulbs all to
gether. Wait two or three weeks be
tween planting, thus insuring a suc
cession ot blooming periods.
As tbe frost leaves the soil, dig
In the manure mulch placed last fall
about the shrubs, roses and hardy
perennials. If there be no winter
mulch about such plants, be sure to
apply some sort of fertiliser to them.
In the absence of well-rotted ma
nure apply a good coat of hone meal.
Scatter It about the base of the plants
after the soil Is stirred, and let the
rain drive It to the roots.
When digging for permanent beds,
See that the soil Is stirred and thor
oughly aerated by digging deep, and
by spilling or throwing the soil from
the spade in a thin stream —thus sep
arating it as much as possible.
Dig a strip fifteen or eighteen
inches wide across the bed or border
and then rake It, beginning at the
bottom of the trench and fining the
soil from the subsoil to the top. Con
tlnne this throughout the length of
the bed, and then you will have
workbd the soil perfectly.
When unwrapping and uncovering
trees, bushes and plants which have
had winter protection, examine care
fully to see if Insects or fungi have
done any damage. Be sure to burn
the wrappings if any traces of pests
ate'found, and apply such remedies
as may be needed to rout the enemy.
Seedlings grown in the house, hot
oeds or coldframes need harden off
before planting In the open. Give
them plenty of air. and during this
month only lower the sashes at night
eter bulbs as large as muskmelons.
Now, do.not buy these big ones. Tbey
cost more and do not give as good
plants as the smaller ones. 1 always
use small ones, and the next season
sell the big ones. W. F. M.
seeds growing, and give you flowers
all summer long.
Be sure to thin plants that come up
thickly. If allowed to grow too close
ly together they will be spoiled for
Mignonettes and poppies do not
transplant well and should be grown
where they are to remain. No garden
Is complete without the fragrance of
the former, and the fragile and fla
ming beauty of the latter.
This month begin to transplant suc
cessions of gladioli. By doing so you
will have a much longer period of
The golden feverfew makes a very
pretty border for flower beds. Re
member, however, that the flower
A Row of Hybrid Tea Roses.
and when the weather is cold and
Much trouble and disappointment
would be avoided If tender seeds and
indoor-grown plants were not set out
too soon. As a good general rule,
which obtains throughout the country,
such plants should not be set out or
seeds sown until corn-planting time.
Hardy perennials and annuals may
be sown this month or even earlier If
the soil Is in proper working order.
They can stand quite a good deal ol
If you have a dry, bare spot that
gets ti.e sun all day, seed it to por
tulaccas. They will beat the weed
must be pinched out occasionally to
get the best results.
All summer tender bulbs make a
line show and are appropriately plant
ed In clumps among shrubbery where
there are open spaces. This is espe
cially true of young shrubbery which
has not tilled out Its allotted space.
Start cosmos as early as possible,
and the end of April plant In the open
two to four feet apart, for they need
plenty of room. They want light, rlcb
soli, and can stand a great deal ol
pinching back to keep them stocky.
If you desire dense shade, plant
"Dutchman’s Pipe” Aristolochia
Slpho—about your summer house or
arbor. It has great heart-shaped
leaves that overlap in true slate-root
style, but whose opaque greenness
seems to rob the summer sun of Its
heat, and insure a cool retreat during
the dog days.
THIS CHXYKNNE RECORD.
(Conducted by the National Woman'*
Christian Temperance Union.)
COULD BUILD BIX CANALS.
An unusual sight and one not with
out special significance was that ot
Secretary of State Bryan signing the
cards of 12,000 men who had taken
the pledge of total abstinence at one
of the Billy Sunday meetings, after
Ur. Bryan’s address against the drink
curse. His attack against the liquor
evil from the economic standpoint in
cluded the following statements:
“It Is estimated that the people of
the United States spend almost $2,-
600,000,000 annually on intoxicating
liquors. The cost of the Panama
canal, the most gigantic engineering
feat in history, was about $400,000,000.
Is it not appalling to think that we
spend for drink every year something
like six times the cost of the Panama
‘1 have endeavored to obtain an ac
curate estimate of the amount of
money spent on education in this
country, and the figure given me is
$760,000,000. We spend for drink more
than three times as much as we spend
The annual appropriations of the
federal government are a little less
than $1,260,000,000. This sum Includes
the salaries of all the public officials,
from the president down. All of these
government agencies employed in ad
ministering the federal government
of this great nation are operated at
an expense of less than $1,260,000,000.
“Think, if the mind can comprehend
it, of this nation spending twice that
amount for alcoholic liquors.”
OUT OF THE MUD.
“In 1912, when West Virginia was
one vast battleground for state-wide
prohibition,” writes Lora S. LaMance,
National W. C. T. U. organizer, in the
Union Signal, "I spent seven months
in the state. In 1916, with prohibition
an accomplished fact, I visited it
again. The change is marked. A blind
man could see it. Out from the prin
cipal towns the 'land of muddy roads’
is building here, there, yonder, paved
roads into the country. Almost every
mile has been built since the state
went dry. It Is a new experience to
the farmer, when the dirt roads are
almost hub deep in yellow clay, to
drive five or ten miles into town on a
hard brick road, and get there with
team and carriage as spick and span
as when he started. City streets are
being paved, parks are being laid out,
street car lines are being extended,
and new buildings are going up every
where. In some ot the smaller towns,
because the demand is so great,
houses are rented at extravagant
STIMULATION OF BUSINESS.
The Chicago Banker, a bank periodi
cal. gives under “lowa Banking
News” the following statement:
“Des Moines banks did a big busi
ness Saturday, supplying cash to mer
chants and grocers. At first the cause
for the sudden demand for coin was
not apparent to the financiers. Then
they realized that the saloons of the
city had been closed a week. Work
men, who had been cashing their
checks in the thirst parlors on Sat
urday nights and leaving a goodly
share of the exchange in the saloon
keeper’s till were, Instead, getting
them cashed in legitimate places of
business. Des Moines has been dry
two weeks now. If business has been
injured, as the wets so long predicted,
there is no evidence of that fact. Al
ready the merchants see a stimulation
of business, and money which former
ly went for booze is already beginning
to go for food and clothing and in the
payment of honest debts.”
It was a south-bound Indiana ave
nue owl car and it hardly resembled
a returning band of Sunday school pic
nickers. At Twenty-second street,
among others who boarded the car
were two levee characters, says the
“It's pretty tough,” offered one to
“Yes, but wait till after election,”
replied the other. “Everything’s
“Say, listen,” responded the other.
“Haven’t you heard that just before
every election we ever helped to
“It ain’t going to be any better
after election"—he shook his head
sadly. “It ain’t ever going to be any
OBEYED THE LAW.
‘1 contain two pints of pure rye
whisky and six bottles of beer,” was
the placard in large letters that Eld
Strange wore on his hat walking
through the streets of Qrafton. He
was obeying literally the West Vir
ginia law that “containers” of alco
hol shall be properly labeled in large
The Married Life of Helen and Warren
By MABEL HERBERT URNER
Originator of "Their Married Life." Author of "The
Journal of a Neglected Wife," “The Woman Alone,” etc.
Helen Comes in Touch With a Real Tragedy, but War
ren Is Brutally Unsympathetic
(Copyright, 191 S. by the McClure Newspaper Syndicate.)
Helen stood brooding at the win
dow, looking out on the graynesa of
of the early Lon
don dusk. It was
not four, but the
street lamps were
already lit and
lights gleamed In
It was raw and
damp. People hur
ried by with
and upturned col
lars, their faces
A subdued excite
ment was in the
air. With con
stant rumors of
were at last aroused.
She went Into the bedroom. As she
gazed moodily across the narrow
courtyard, a woman's form was sud
denly outlined against the drawn blind
of a lighted window. Her every move
ment was clearly silhouetted.
Helen watched her, fascinated. With
clenched hands she was walking up
and down the room. Then she dropped
into a chair, her face buried in its
cushioned seat, her shoulders quiver
ing with convulsive sobs. There were
abandonment and abject grief in every
line of her slender figure.
Something that looked like a news
paper lay on the floor beside her.
Helen's thoughts leaped to that daily
column of killed and wounded.
At any other time she would not
have followed the impulse that now
came to her. But the war had broken
down many barriers.
The next moment Helen was hurry
ing down the hall to the apartment
opposite. It was some time before her
timid ring was answered.
"Who is it?” asked a tremulous
voice, the door opening a few inches.
"Mrs. Curtis—from the apartment
next door," faltered Helen.
The door opened wider, the woman
still shielding herself behind It.
"I —I know you’re in trouble,” im
pulsively. "I saw you through the win
dow—the curtain was down, but I
could see your shadow. Don’t think
me intrusive, but I knew you were
alone —and I couldn't help coming.”
The woman’s only answer was to
turn back lntc the room and throw
herself sobbing on the couch. Helen
followed, constrained and awkward.
After all, what could she do —what
could any stranger do?
"It’s someone —in the war?" gently,
drawing a chair beside her.
The head o- the pillow nodded.
Helen took one of the hot. clenched
hands in both her own.
A small desk clock ticked harshly.
Then the woman sat up and looked
at her dully.
“Oh, it’s uot what you think,” reck
lessly. "It's not my husband or my
brother—or anyone whom I can grieve
over openly. That’s why I’m alone. I
don't dare have anyone with me—any
one that might know ”
Helen felt a tightening In her
throat: she did not attempt to speak.
"He was brought home yesterday
wounded —fatally, the papers said.
That’s all I know. I can’t go to him.
I can’t even telephone—they’d know
my voice.” She looked unflinchingly
at Helen, “He’s —another woman's hus
Helen did not start or draw back;
her hold on the hot -and tightened.
"This morning I drove by in a cab.
The blinds were down, but there was
no—crape. I’m golqg again tonight.
Oh, It’s torture —not knowing!”
Abruptly she rose and took from a
desk drawer a leather-cased photo
graph. It was a strong, clean-cut face
of a virile Englishman.
“There was nothing the whole world
couldn’t have known,” her burning
eyeß were on the picture. “And yet—
now that he's dying I’m almost sorry
there wasn't!" defiantly. "Can you un
"Oh, we're more natural, more prim-'
ltive In times like these! That’s why
I can tell you this. And yet,” slow
—ly; “if he should get well—it would
be Just the same. Ob, we’ve made
such a waste of our lives —such a piti
ful waste! It was all my fault, but
I’ve paid for it.” bitterly. ‘Tve paid
for one foolish, hysterical moment
with six years of torture.”
"Six years." breathed Helen.
"We were engaged." she steadied
her voice. "Oh, it was such a trivial
thing we quarreled over! And he—
he took It seriously. He threw up
everything and went to India. Last
year be married and came back to
London. We knew the same people,
we couldn’t help meeting. His wife
doesn't care—she’s always with other
"Then he began coming here. He
never made an engagement, yet I
came to expect him every Wednesday
at five—l lived for that hour. We
never talked—l mean about this. Yet
we both knew.
"The day he left for the
came to say good-by. He tried to
make it a conventional call —but I
couldn’t. I was the one to break
down. He said there was only one
solution —for him not to come back.”
Her voice broke. She looked at
Helen with hopeless eyes.
"Oh, how I’ve watched the papers!
But there’s been nothing until yes
“And ~yet,’’ murmured Helen, ’if
you had married him, wouldn’t giv
ing him up now be even harder than
"Harder?” fiercely. "If we’d had
six years of happiness, would our
lives have been wasted? Six years
with him! I’d barter my soul for
"Oh, I can’t stand this,” hysteri
cally. "I must know,” turning desper
ately to the desk phone. “No—no, I
mustn’t phone. Don’t let me!”
"I — Can’t I phone for you?” fal
"Oh,” looking at her wildly, “why
didn’t I think of that? Eight-two-six
nine Mayfair," excitedly. “Ask for
Lieutenant No —wait, I can’t give
you his name!”
"Need 1 know his name? Couldn’t I
say the lieutenant?”
“Yes —yes,” eagerly, thrusting the
receiver into Helen’s hand.
"Eight-two-six-nine Mayfair? I
would like to know how the lieuten
"Lieutenant Carson died this morn
ing at eleven thirty,” came the an
Although he immediately rang off,
Helen still held the receiver. How
could she tell her?
But the woman’s intuition needed
“When did he die?” her voice was
“At eleven thirty.”
"That was after I drove by this
morning. He was there then—l
might have seen him!” Then abrupt
ly, "You’ll understand if I ask you to
go now, won’t you? I think I’d rather
"Oh, I can’t leave, you know," fright
ened at her strange quietness. "You
mustn't be alone. Let me stay with
you or send for someone.”
She shook her head. “1 couldn't
have anyone here without telling
them. But you needn’t be anxious.
“But later, in the night, if you
should need one—will you let mo
know? Promise me that! I can’t bear
to think of you here alone.”
“Yes, I promise.”
And with that Helen had to bo
content. She went back down tho
hall haunted by the picture of that
woman alone with her grief.
When she opened the door she start
ed with dismay at the sound of War
“Hello!” without looking up. "This
blamed London mud sticks like —”
Then he saw her face. “What tho
deuce’s the matter now?”
"Oh, dear, I —l’ve been with the
woman next door,” trying to hide her
face against his unresponsive arm.
"Who’s the woman next door?” el
bowing her away, the whiskbroom in
his hand. “What are you sniveling
It was nard to tell such a story
while Warren, grimly unsympathetic,
brushed his clothes, put on a fresh
collar and cleaned his nails. Helen
stumbled through It brokenly.
“Told all that yarn to you, eh?
Sounds like It was made out of whole
cloth. Guess there’s a lot she didn’t
"Warren, stop!" turning on him
fiercely. "Oh, I shouldn't have told
you! I might have known you
wouldn’t understand. She’s refined,
"Huh,” attacking his hair savage
ly, a brush in each hand, “not much
delicacy in spieling off that tale to a
"Oh. how can you be so hard!”
passionately. "Sometimes I think you
“Well, I’m not haunting my feelings
in everybody’s face. I’ve always said
women bad no sense of reticence.
Think a man would bleat out a story
like tbat? Not U yon grilled him oo
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