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THE BKK: OMAHA, TUESDAY, SEmiMBER 24, 1912.'
9 pie ee' )ne aa z. i ie f)a g.e SILK HAT HARRY'S DIVORCE SUIT The Judge is Happy, but Worried Copyright, 1912, National News Aas'n. Drawn for The Bee by Tad - - S ' - ' - . i mi ' '"' I, . i i . . - i i I. i .- . ' ' II- T ' 4 ! ' ' ' ' ' ' : ; '. ! '. '. ' , . , . Hunting a Husband The Widow, in Despondent Mood, Has It Borne in Upon Her That She Ought to Marry. By VIRGINIA TERHUNE VAX DEWATER. Every Ionian knows that It Is an easy heard the hysterical shriek of a woman matter to get ready to leave town for the summer in three days, especially when one has expected to have a week In which to make preparations. Beatrice had a -'sensation of impotent rage when, after giving his orders, Dr, Haynes had taken his departure. The strong neces sity of speech was upon her, and she went ; ipto the kitchen and spoke her mind to Mary. . "I wish," she said, "that my own doc i tor was In town. He, at least, would j have more consideration for me than to I insist that I get away from here by next . Monday." , "Is it Monday you'll he Jeavin" town?" . asked the maid, astonished. " " "Yes, it is, so Dr. Haynes says," re plied her mistress. "But, when I think 6f ' it, I've half a mind to take my own time 1 about it. Tell me Mary, do you believe fthat a few days more or less will make ' any difference in the little girl's condi- : tionr v Tht maid's kind 1 Irish face showed : genuine regret, "Well, ma'am," she acknowledged, "since you ask ime for the truth I must say that I do think the poor darlin' 1 should be out of this heat as soon as she ,can be got away. And. It's for her sake I say. this, forMt ain't no fun for me to go out to a lonesome country place away from my friends. But, sure ma'am, she ' does look bad." "Well, there's no uso wasting time : then," said the mother with a sigh, ' '.'I'll just have to hurry and get things together for going. Have luncheon as soon as you can, for all the shopping to be attended to must be done this afternoon and tomorrow morning--slnce tomorrow will h fiflturdav and most of the shoos close at noon. Before luncheon I'll make: out a list of what's wanted for the chil dren and myself." t .i "But you have most of the summer clothes bought already, haven't you, ma'am?" asked Mary. . Beatrice made an impatient move ment. "No," she said, "I haven't all the clothes needed for Pleasan(ttown,1 al though have -enough for us all If we were going to sty qiiletly in town. And," of jcourse, we will heed fewer things than if we were, to be at a summer 'hotel.- But, even soj Mrs.' Bobbins .en-. ! terrains.' a, good' deal, and will expect . ma ; there, and I must have a plenty of dresses for that purpose." Tfee 'day was humid and warm, and the trip'"' through ' the "various s'hops wearying , even tof a woman who loved j to $uy as did Beatrice. Today she felt oddly depressed, and was conscious al jthe: while, that, she was extravagant in ! her purchases.' Few things are more de j pressing "than the knowledge that one is ispehdlng more money than is wise and msv aiieau ti one are greater expenses especially when-this knowledge is unac companied by- the wiil pqwer- to deter--mine one to . stop buying. Beatrice did not forget that;ther whs a doctor's bill as yet unpresen'ted. that she was taking upon herself the additional expense of a summer wttage, and that,; meanwhile the - rent of her closed' city apartment must be met all through , the heated terjh, although she would be out of town and getting no benefit from her New York residence. Yt, the pretty things in the shop tempted her, 'and shi did not leave the last department store until the sound of the gong gave notice that work ' was to cease and that the jaded clerks' could go home. Wishing that she had shopped a little faster, Beatrice turned reluctant steps toward the subway. It seemed to her that thousands of others were doing the same thing. , . People who' leave the city In the sum mer Jiave a way of saying that "every body is out of town," a statement they would be forced to retract if they at tempted to board the subway train during rush hours. This was the widow's thought this afternoon as she forced her way through the throngs that waited at the express station. As her train drew in, she was borne along, wedged in be tween men and women most of them chatting , and laughing good naturedly. in . spite of the heat and general discom fort. The widow. In musing on her own . affairs and in her absorbing self-pity at being in this rough and perspiring throng, did not heed the guard's warning itera tion of "Watch your step." Indeed she ' was so tired that she paid little attention td anything but her own morbid thoughts. near her. She, herself, uttered no sound, but, quick as lightning, the guard had seized her by one arm, she felt her other arm gripped by a man who must have been just behind her, and she was pulled up, set upon her feet and forced on Into the car. Here she- caught at a strap to keep from falling, for she was weak and faint. The crowd about her seemed to have forgotten, or not to have noticed, the ac cident, which, while it might have been serious, waa, after all common enough. But she heard a man the man who had helped her to her feet and whose face she had not seen remark gruffly to the guard that the Subway was no place for women at this time of day and that "un less a woman's work kept her down town she ought to be at home before rush hours." The widow recognized the voice as Robrt Maynard's, and her pallor gave way to a glow of anger. Letting go of the strap to which she had clung. a kind youth, noting, perhaps, her shak- forward end of the car in the hope that she would not he recognized by the man whom she had wished to avoid. Here, a kind, youth, noting, perhaps, hershak Ing hands and trembling Upb, gave her his seat, and, with a murmured: "Thank you!" she sank into It and closed hei eyes. She Was spent and exhausted and, longed to cry. It was hard on a woman to have to fight the world alone, to have to buy and save and spend, with nobody In all the world of whom to ask advice If the children were only older, she would like to He down and die. She felt' the hot tears rush' , to hei eyes, and kept her lids closed lest the drops escape. : She was tired of. it all she told herself. She had nothing to look forward to except to care for hei children until they would need her ho more. Then she would be an old woman "I 6ught to-carry," she thought ;'but then came the question "whom?" The men who want me I don't want; and. besides, none of them Is desparately anxious to marry me. And the men l would, perhaps, take If I could, 'do not wish to tie themselves down to a pool widow and two children." Suddenly she felt strongly impelled ,to open her eyes, Was some one looking at her she wondered, and d!d the sfang effect caused by a steadfast gaze give her this desire to life her heavy i:ds? Suddenly her will power deserted her. and she opened her eyes wide and looked up Into those of Robert Maynard stand ing above her. ' ,' i Girls as Husband Hunters To the many fads of vocational training in the public schools a new one waa pro posed at the recent teachers' institute in Cincinnati by tr, Holmes, a psychologist of the University of Pennsylvania. He says "All teachers should teach their g:rl pupils how to distinguish a real man from an Imitation one. When a girl marries she Is married to the family of a man for -four or five generations back. If his grandparents were deficient she will have to expect trouble with her children." , ' " ' " There. Is a certain eex partiality in the Inference that the proposed instruction be given only ' to girl pupils. , Surely, on equal grounds, boys should be taught .to know a real girl from an imitation one. A boy may not have to marry a girl's family five generations back, but . be certainly has to' accept the old folks, and if, be has been careless he will have to expect trouble with his mother-in-law. But, waiving the Issue of partiality and considering only the vocation of the girl as a husband chooser, very little reflec tion will bring out the well-nigh hopeless absurdity of the proposed education. Nearly three thousand years of experience recorded In tales and histories proves that the more a, girl Is taught and edu cated : to marry a particular man the more she doesn't do It. And wh6 shall decide between wha is the real man and what the imitation? . Can any school tacher do it better than the school -girl of marriageable age? New York World. Different Material. .' A young fellow sidled Into a Fourth until, as she reached the edge of the j 0f talk, told them that he was a ll2 grad- piatrorm, sne stepped, neeaiess or tne uaie ana oiierca nis services, ine head gap between it and the car, into . the ' T, lne Ilrm ,OKea lne graau.i over casu- yawning space between the two. 8iie slipped down with a sickening Jolt, and for a terrifying instance felt the ; ally. pressure of the crowd behind her and he i nave no position to oner you. sain. ' . . , , "You misunderstand me," responded the graduate. "What I want Is a job." Two minutes later he was at work. OAT A BAR NAMES THE FlVfj GREAT fOWERSr LOVE-MONFf-REVffNSE-AMBlTlON ANC MR.MclNTYRE AND Two OTHER FELLOWS WENT OUT WALKING ONE "DM WITH A GIRL WHOM NOME OF THEM CAKED POU AND THEY WANTED TO GET WD OF HER THEY DECIDED TO TIE MCR TO A TREE. BUT THE TWO FELLOWS WITH Ml?. MtlNTYRE DID NOT HAVE THE NERVE TO TIE HEP. THFNTWE Question was. would MtlNTYRE. TAKE 'EM OFFi! WE KNOW YOU v ASOOPPlNNgR- T ftENTLErttN BE SEATED TA-RA-RA-KA-RA TAMBO - MISTA H FLYN fi CAN YOU TELL ME DE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN TESS M'MAHON AND AN EMPLOYEE OF A MATCH FACTORY ? INTERLOCUTOR-NO TAMBO WHAT IS THE DIFFERENCE. TAMBO -WHY TES5 McMAHON 19 A MATCHER OF BOXERS AND THE OTHER GENT IS A BOAET5 OF MATCHES. SOUPBONC'SAM WILL NOW5INGUSATUN5 WRITTEN BY HIMSELF ENTITLED, ' I SLEEP IN THE BARN by request: MAKE IT A halt! WHO IS . P0AKIN6 THAT WHAT NOISES? V"8Wi r i Rl&HTAWAY vou frive ME BACK 4l - IT WAS A COLO WINTERS NI6HT. THE COUNTRY FOLK WERE GATHERED IN THE MEETIN& HOUSE VOTING ON THE SALE OF CROPS FDR THE YEAR NOT A SOUND WAS HEARD BUT THE FLOW OF JUICE THROUGH THE CORNCOBS. SUDDENLY ATERRIFYIN6YELL WA6 HEARD FROM OVEI? THE HILL EVERYBODY TUMPED UP AND BEAT IT FOR THE DOOR . B'GO&H THE BUG HOUSE WAS BURNIN AND THE LOON& STANDI N6 ON TH E Top OF THE HILL YELLED TO- GETHER VF THE SPHINX 19 AMID THE SANDS OF SAHARA WHAT IS . THE GREAT PYRAMID: ME mV DIFFERENT I SHOULD WORRV A TELL- WHO ACE YOUfV i .r IM TNE BOOB THAT PUT TWEWHIN ,WASwW0N Under-Water Photography and Its Marvels A SIMPLE DEVICE REVEALS THE HABITS OF SUBAQUEOUS AND AMPHIBIOUS LIFE' thin By GARRETT P. SKRVISS. PENGUIN REACHING SURFACE OF WATER AFTER' ITS CATCH. If Jules Verne's Captain Nemo; during his journey of 20,000 leagues under the Sea, had thought of It he might have left photographs of the extraordinary scenes that he witnessed which, because "photo graphs never lie," would have convinced the readers of his strange history that nothing but the simple truth was being presented to them. But Dr.-Francis Ward had not invented his sub-aquatic photo-graphic apparatus at the time when the veracious French man wrote his romance, and so he could not give visual proof of his statements , about what goes on under the water, such as Dr. Ward gives 'us today. - Some of Dr. Ward's photograph's are reproduced with this , article and the reader can judge for himself how Interesting his ex periments lu-ve been. And they are not ; only curious, a-d interesting, but sclcn- i tiflcally important as 'well. The "scheme Is simplicity Itself, as a , glance at the accompanying diagram ri- , veals. Dr. ' Ward happened to live near ? the bank of a creek into which tidal water flows. The water wa's deep and pure, and the Bank steep and rocky. It occurred to Dr. Ward to excavate a chamber In the bank, large enough to a is: - - ' ' ,,l'.'"'' r . . . . - . Ai & irnf Trziz PENGUIN, ON SEA BOTTOM, ABOUT . TO SEIZE A FISH. hold him and his camera, cover it with a trap door to keep out the light from the sky, and then place a large sheet of clear glass, hermetically sealed, on the side toward the water. Enough light, he found, penetrated down through the water to render everything In clearly visible and photographable. ,. It only remained to get the living crea tures in the water within the' focus of his lenses. This proved to be easy, for, since the creek was connected with the sea, aquatic life of many kinds entered it and passed freely before the camera. One great advantage was that this crea tures were not prisoners, amid strange surroundings, but had come of them selves into the place. Thus the photo grapher could be sure that they were not posing for effect, but were acting in ac cordance with their natural proclivities. However, he waa not altogether satis- fled with this. As soon as he found that DIAGRAM EXPLAINING THE SIMPLE DEVICE MAKING DNDER-WATER , ; , , PHOTOGRAPH IT POSSIBLE. his planAwas a success, he induced other animals to enter his photographic trap, and made pictures of them In the same manner. It was In this way that he secured a photograph of a seagull in the act of plunging beneath the water In pursuit of a small fish. A curious fact developed by these sin gular experiments is that the camera catches nothing that is above the sur face of the water. That surface acts like a screen sheering off all extra neous light from above, made a great many reveal for tils' first time the actual movements of aquatic animals - and fish when they are in thelj native element, and from this fact arises the scientific Importance 'of the experiments. Thus far such photographs have been made at a depth of a few feet only; but evidently the depth can be greatly increased, for considerable sun light penetrates clear water for many yards from the surface. A similar ap paratus might even be employed to pho tograph a wreck upon which divens ar operating, ' The excellence of the riatural lfght at a small depth Is shown by the fact that Dr Ward's photographs are made with an exposure of " less than one-five-hundredth ot a second. Among the animals experimented with, penguins, which are great fisher, fur nished some of the most remarkable photographB during their chase of fish under water. But a surprise was In store for the photographer when he tried to obtain a picture of a plunging cormorant. This bird Is of bronze-black color, and was expected to form' a very distinct object. But it turned out that the feathers of the cormorant, through some peculiar property- of their surface, became at once so coated -with glitter ing air bubbles that the , picture was nothing but a light blur. A Puppy and a Romance J tlj WINIFRED BLACK. At'"-v This has been the pup's busy di H was up before the dawn, and when we went otit to see what sort of a day It was before breakfast th doorstep was decorated. On uii bM siuud a fine, hearty old boot, on the other lay a torn giova that had been In the gutter for a year or so, If looks are to be taken into account and In tha. center, proudly displayed like the piece de resistance at, a smart luncheon? was an old rag that bad come from who ever dtres ntTT.rJ guess what rag pit. . And the pup -lay In th midst of his treasures so blissfully happy and so prpud that I. for one. hadn't the heart to scold him, but stooped and patted him Instead. What a Ihameful breach of discipline! That pup will grow up Into a disgraceful dog, I know. 'He ll have to, after the way he's being trained; but, dear me, he'll never be a big-footed, lop eared, bright eyed pup but once, and I'll never hva ths fun of him again, so spoiled he is, and spoiled,, I'm afraid, he'll remain. , I Last night he was lonely, and he went tjv the bed before the little boy lay sleep ing the deep aleep of chlldhoon, and pulled every one of the Cttle bdy's bed clothe off and made a bed for himself. I heard him sighing with content and found him wagging his tall In the friend liest fashion, while the little boy'tummt over and shivered and doubtless dreamed of falling Into the Ice cream freezer. When the clothes were back and the little boy tucked In again the pup was J lonely. Oh, how lonely and sad and for saken and forlorn that pup was So Iw leaped and he Jumped and hs performed unheard-of-feats of agility until at last he wiis-sitisgled under the covers and' puzsllng comfortably at the little boy's ear. -y 1 . ( .''-. .' -Balked of that place of comfort, he ran to a trunk, climbed up, pulled away at the things thst hung about It. and ram down in triumph with the little boy's cowboy suit. The cowboy suit was just the thing, and he niude that into n nice soft bed and snuggled down again as In nocently as a baby. ' . When I took that away from, him and put him out of doors he told ths moon all about It and the stars; and then he got up some kind oAwlreless. connection with Jupiter and told him nbout the heartless Injustice of the world till he fell asleep. Where does he get all h'a energy, I'd like to know, that pup? The old dog wonders about it, too, I see him looking at the pup an old men look on and marvel at th folly and the magic endurance of youth. ' "Was I ever like this?" the old . dog thinks. I can tell ly his eyes and by the satirical twitch of hli long upper Up. ''Was I ever as foolUh and good-humored, and so outrageous and so Impudent, and so absolutely happy as that Idiot Of a pup?" And the pup tweaks the old dog by the tall And wools him by the scruff of the neck, and snatches the old dog's bone from his very mouth and runs away ond buries It, wagging all the time. ' .How, much more admirable the old" dog is than some men. " , ', There's old Croesus across the way, his boy la replica of him with all the lines and the i marks of conflict rubbed out. Just like him, they say, though we who never knew Croesus when he was young, and gay1, and light of heart!' and generous, and foolish and extravagant, can scarcely believe it. -, He's In love, Is Croesus' , son dead in love' with little Miss Poverty around the corner, and little Miss Poverty is in love with the son of Croesus, 'but they don't dare mention It. , . Why? There nothing wrong with little Miss Poverty, except that she's as young a the wife of Croesus was wherr he married her, and she has a pair of dimples. Last night she waa looking at the antles of the pup and she laughed, and the corners of her little cherry of a mouth well, really, if I'd been the son of Croesus I'd have kissed that little Miss Poverty then and there If all the world looked oh. I had an 'errand In the house just then. Maybe he did kiss her In the very face of the puppy's in terested and absorbed attention. I hope he did for my part, but Croesus turns blue If any one even mentions Miss Poverty's name. ' "She's a chit," he says, "and an up start, too." And et they do say fhat Croesus-waa In love with Miss Poverty's mother once himself, and almost died when she refused him. His son Is too young to marry. Croesus says, too young, and at his age Croesus had a son and two daugh-y' ters. ' Oh, thofe two poor daughters, every one is so sorry lor mem.' vroesus thinks they are the finest girls in the werld, and no one Is' good -enough ",'' them. ' ' When a man so mucn as ventures to ; call on one of the poof daughters of , Croesus, Croesus growls so that the young man never comes again, and the"-; poor daughters are getting older and' older and plainer and plainer. " t And the son of old CroeSusls more' ' and more unflllal and discontented, f" heard htm say the other day he'd rather ' dig ditches for a living and be his own' master than to live In a palace and havTf ' every hair of his head combed for him' day and night. ' N ' M,!- I wonder why , he doesn't, try It the'" ditch digging. I'm going to ask him th' next time he comes to see the pup. I" believe little MIks Poverty would make a fine wife for a ditch digger. She rait' make bread, they say, and " cake, tooV' but If eggs were high, perhaps However, If 1 were the son of Croesus""' I'd have a try at the digging for a,Mi change. I wish old Croesus would come and see the pup and notice how the old dog. treats him. ,;. U might teach him lcssonI wondeii( If It would? '' . -; . ,W ' 4 'Si Little Bobbie's Pa IJy WILLIAM V. KIRK. ",' I have Jest rote' a song, wife, aed Pa,-' that f think you Wud like to hear. I wud like to hear It all rite If you,- will let Bobble sing It. aed Ma. I am,: afrada that you wuddent be abel to do ;.t so fine a song Justice. . ; t , Well, sed Pa, then Bobbie ran sing it. I knew that he wfnted to sing htssrlf, but what Ma sed about it bee- ,.s Ing a fine song made htm feci kind of ,,., good after , all. 8o Pa . handed ma tiia v song, & I sang It tht best I cud for, r the kind of song It was. This waa th nalm of the aong: .., The drawing room was crowded in a . city far away. It was a poHtlntiun's hoam, so brlllyunt , ana so gay,- , His wife was cooking ' dinner wen a ' guest calm through the door sed Do you think William Taft will She nit him with a turnip on. his .bald and shiny pate & summing like tne following was the word that she did state. ' Chorus: ' " - , Nix, Nix, Nix on Polytlcks,' ' ' I I'm tlrnd of Teddy Roosevelt & his llttel Mull Moose tricks ' I wuddent care It iaft grew Daft & s Mlson crossed the Styx, Nix, Nix. Nix on Polyticks! Well, ht,d l'a,Nwhat do you think of that for a song? . . u It dident seem to liswress me favjr- . able, sed la. i It not true, not true to life & tot true to wimmen, sed Ma. . Did you ewer see me. for Instens, throw Ing a turnip at a man's bald hed? Itf ' the first place I never cooked a turnip & wuddent have one In ray hand, t UTS the second place 1 cuddent throw strata enuff to hit anybody in the bed. unless I aimed at ills fei't. . ., 'V Pft got kind of mad then. Wife, deer, sed Pa is thare anything that I eWer did that you liked? 'i was almost sure1 -that this one thna. you wud Ilka this son&. I, spent a lot. of tlm on it. I thought tne chorus was kind of catchy. You poor old boy,- sed ma, I dident think that you was go ng to cry so hard, or anything like that; H it will make you feel any better o tell you that I think " the song 1 'good, I will - say1 that the . song is good. I only thought that you ' wanted by real pplnyun, jja sed. You know as well as i do that poly ticks la everything rite now & that It Is always a important part of American life. Why doant you rite a song about the moonlite in the lake, or sumthing of that kind. Everybody tkrwws that thare is moonlite on the lake when thare Is a lake & a nite that the moon is out. I guess you better, lay off on song writing, sed Ma & try sumthing else.' I was reeding the other day about a man that got ten thousand dollars for curing a horse that beelonged to a rich man. Why doant you try beelng a veterinary surgeon instead of a poet . ., Beelng a what? sed Pa. Oh, anything sed . Ma. Try beelng a shipping clerk. But doant be a sons riter. : : ' So then Pa toar up his song as eesy as he used to tear up Broadway,- ' What Ther Don't 8mr "This weather Is better than last year's." . ' , . . "These were not the best seats I could i get. I had an attack of stinginess when . I got to the box office." "I am glad to have you go, Mr.. Bore sum. Come and see us as seldom as you