©£ a. wM.®
IUuftraled by Paul Robinson
INTRODUCTION
A modern chronicle of the bewildering situation which confronts the
young married contingent of every village, hamlet and town—a straight
forward record of the flirtations, problems, adventures and romance that
colour the crowded hours of America’s youth.
The heroine is Sallie and through the fearlessness of youthful eyes
she will bring to you the vivid experiences which daily beset her group
of interesting young friends—interesting because among her laughter
loving comrades you will meet personalities with whom you are
familiar in everyday life. In Sallie’s coterie of friends you will recog
nize the characteristics and mental equipment of your own daughter
perhaps, or again you will see the moral battles which at one time
embarrassed some very dear friend, or, who knows but what as you
follow Sallie’s confession of events, you will come face to face with
some inherent remissness of your very own.
CURTISS CRITICIZES
SALLIE’S ACTIONS
We were alone in our suite of
rooms at the hotel. The excite
—ment of playing roulette, of see
ing Ellie again and the little
“frisk” at Ciro’s had had a
stimulating effect. It was impos
„ sible for me to go to sleep. How
ever, I undressed and slipped into
bed preparing to meditate upon
the stirring events.
A slight tap at the door and
Curtiss, in dressing gown and
slippers, came into my room and,
ensconcing himself in a cozy
chair beside my bed, began to
talk. His face was in the shadow
cast by the small reading light
but I noticed that he looked
weary and depressed, an unusual
.condition for Curtiss, whos§
keenness for Life ordinarily gave
an animated expression to his
face.
“What’s the matter, sweet
heart? Didn’t you have a good
time at Ellie’s little ‘frisk?’ It
noticed you didn’t dance.”
“No, I might as well be'frank
with you, Sallie, I had a perfectly
rotten time. To begin with, I’m
not at all enthusiastic over Ellie
you know. She’s too loud and it
didn’t make me any more com
fortable when you turned me
down flat to dance with Barring
ton Pierce.”
“Wheel” I exclaimed, I’m so
glad. Now, I’ve had my revenge 1
Barrington Pierce! Then you did
remember his name, didn’t you
dear?”
Curtiss looked at me as if he
thought most certainly I was los
ing my mind.
“What on earth are you talk
ing about?” he asked, “I don’t
understand what’s so remarkable
about my remembering Pierce.
He didn’t take his eyes off of you
the entire time. But, what, I
ask you, is so unusual about re
calling a name? I know you put
me on the shelf tonight but I
didn’t think you had quite rele
gated me to the Lethian stage!”
I giggled one full moment, in
spite of his gathering sarcasm and
then I explained my delight.
“You see", darlin’,”'I began,
“you had forgotten that awfully
•nice Dr. Gaines who danced with
me every night on the boat and
I was peeved, especially since he’s
so awfully well known. So to
night before dinner I told you
I’d make someone notice me so
much that you’d at least remem
ber his name.”
In spite of himself, he smiled.
v “Sallie, you ARE a child! But
just the same, some day you’re
going to drive me to distraction
with your tantalizing ways. Let
me see if I’ve got you right. Just
to make me jealous you deliber
ately flirted with Pierce.” '
“Yes,” I nodded, “partly and
partly because I found him most
entertaining. So there!”
“What does he do?” Curtiss
showed his disapproval in a slight
JS.
frown between his eyes, “I’ll
wager not much of anything at
all.”
“Again you show that your
education along artistic lines, has
been sadly neglected. Barring
ton Pierce is one of our foremost
composers of the age. Further
more he' is an accompanist of no
little ability and has toured in
concert with some of the most
famous prima donnas both in
America and abroad. And,”
breathlessly pausing at the end of
my argument, “don’t you think
he’s interesting looking?”
“Hell-no!”
“Curtiss! I’ll have to ask you
not to swear.”
“I beg your pardon” he apolog
ized, “but Sallie, I can’t bear to
have you so friendly with men.
Besides,—besides, these musi
cians and artists are dangerous
people.
Compared with their pretty
love-making a husband’s sincere
compliments are merely prosaic.
For instance he told Mrs. De
Wight, with me listening, mind
you, that your costume was like
‘Anitra’s Dance in the Moun
tain’.”
“Anitra’s Dance, Oh yes! I
know that weird lovely thing—by
Grieg, I believe, I used to play it.
That was a most unusual thing to
say. I love it!” I mused a while,
then resumed the conversation.
“But honey, Barrington Pierce is
one of the most sought-after men
in Paris. Ellie’s mad about him
and so is that exquisite Ellen
Daniels—the Grand Opera singer.
Now you aren’t really jealous
of poor little -me—are you Mr.
Fogey?”
By Jove, I don’t know. I felt
tonight though that the whole
scheme of things had toppled
over. Mrs. DeWight kidded me
about being so absent-minded and
I asked her forgiveness on the
grounds of being hopelessly
luxurious.”
"Thanks. That’s a pretty com
pliment. You see, you, yourself,
improve with competition.”
Again a smile played over his
face though he was trying des
perately to be serious about the
whole matter.
“There’s another thing, Sallie.
About the Casino,” he continued.
“I know,” I interrupted, “I
lost three times as much as I’d
promised. And I’m sorry. Please
don’t be cross with me, honey.”
“It isn’t a question of being
cross,” he responded, “I would
have given you more if I thought
that reckless gambling could
make you happy, but I know it
won’t, Sallie.” -
“Oh, but it did, Curtiss, I got
a tremendous, kick out of it!” I
interrupted.
“There’s a difference between
happiness and ‘kicks’ ” he an
swered, “and its to save you from
ever knowing heartache that I
would have you understand the
difference. Don’t think I’m
preachy and old-fashioned. It’s;
just that' I can’t understand the
way you reason. You see you
voluntarily promised me upon
your -word of honor, that you
were not going to risk more than
a hundred dollars and you ended
up by losing three hundred. When
you break faith with yourself
like that what do you do to
square things with your con
science? It wasn’t as if I’d ex
acted a promise from you but you
said voluntarily that you wanted
to place a limit. Its not a big
thing, Sallie, but it’s the prin
ciple involved that causes me to
stop and wonder.”
“Your ideals are perfectly
glorious, Curtiss, you live up to
them too and I know it. For in
stance you couldn’t do a thing
like I did tonight and yet I could
without the slightest twinge of
conscience.”
“But how do you do it?”
“Oh, it’s quite simple. By argu
ing with myself that life is short
and that we are only human and
that youth is fleeting. You know,
the same old story.” I concluded
with a grimace, “I’d like to be
dependable and fine like you are,
dearest,” I added.
“Nonsense,” he broke in, “when
it comes right down to human
charity and bigness of spirit I
can’t even touch the hem of your
garment. These other things, as
I’ve said before, are compara
tively little, it’s just that they
mean more to me because, I’ve
learned by hard knocks that one
can’t go on being a character pro
crastinator and get real, big
things out of living. Sooner or
later you’ll see the value of what
I’m saying. In other words, be
loved, we must strengthen the
; fibres, of our moral intellect just
as surely as we achieve mental
fineness or physical prowess. The
latter two are developed by exer
cising our thought and also our
bodies, the former by doing the
things that we know are helpful
in character building.”
“I see exactly what you mean,
Curtiss and T am going to try to
keep from being so inconsistent.
Really.”
The subject was closed and with
a few words of endearment he
kissed me tenderly and retired.
Long after Curtiss had gone to
his room E lay awake thinking
over the fine philosophy that he
had made his own by just living.
High-principled himself, it was
remarkable thrat he showed such
tolerance towards.my shortcom
ings. It had evidently annoyed
him because I had accepted the
attentions of Barrington Pierce
and yet' some primitive instinct
in me rejoiced in the knowledge
that I was still able to be attrac
tive to men ... an inhibition
no doubt of less civilized days
when man was the pursuer and
woman the pursued.
I drifted on through waves
back to my wedding night. What
was it the dapper little friend of
father’s had said? “The butter
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fly type. Something that’s tin
capable of cange. Either one is
or one isn’t. Matrimony won’t
make you temperamentally . . .
it will only add piquancy add
charm.” +
And Marjorie Chenoweth.
What was it she had said?
“Things are always going to hap
pen, to you, Sallie, and it’s not
your fault. ' You can’t help it if
you’re not a vegetable, you
know.”
Were they right?
■" Was Curtiss justified in being
hurt?_ I wondered. -
These and many other chaotic
thoughts played hide-and-seek
until the Goddess of Sleep took
them in hand and skillfully wove
them into dreams.
(To be Continued)
Next week, Sallie and Curtiss
arrive in Paris and-(?).
The goal of many a college boy
vanished at the end of the foot
ball season.—Columbia “Record.”
Announcing the 1926
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