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OCTOBER O E L I N E AT O R 1932 * October 1932 10 cents DELINEATOR Beginning a New Novel of the Sea and the Prairies, "BLUE MEADOWS" by MAY STANLEY "WHATEVER LOVE IS" by ROBERT W. CHAMBERS The Best and Smartest Winter Fashions clam ^Lalatet. oTOrp" ALUMINUM COOKING UTENSILS THE STANDARD - MADE OR THICK. HARD SHEET ALUM/NUM Wo, » OULD you like to know how I set up my mixture for a smooth- textured, perfectly seasoned.Lobster Newburg? I extract all the edible meat, about two cupfuls, from a freshly boiled lobster— or use the same quantity of canned lobster meat. On this basis, my recipe will serve from four to six people. I melt four tablespoonfuls of butter in the top of my new "Wear-Ever" bell-shaped double boiler, add a tablespoonful of flour, and stir until this is smooth. Then I add my lobster meat which has been diced, put in a scant teaspoonful of salt, a speck of pepper, and a half cupful of thin cream. Stirring this until it thickens smoothly, I gradually add the yolks of two eggs, slightly beaten together with a half cup of milk. With all these ingredients in the top section of the boiler, and still stirring con¬ stantly, I add, last of all, three-quarters of a teaspoonful of lemon juice and two tablespoonfuls of cooking sherry. The quantity of sherry may be increased slightly, should the mixture have to stand and become less moist than is desirable. But it is the promptness with which all these steps are taken, the constant stirring and the slow, thorough cooking provided by the new "Wear-Ever" bell-shaped double boiler, which bring my lobster concoction to a rich, creamy consistency. I use only the smallest flame because the "Wear-Ever" bell¬ shaped double boiler heats quickly, holds more water than old-style boilers and boils longer without refilling. These other foods do not fight with lobster With Lobster Newburg, the other dishes on the menu should be fairly simple, in order that there shall be no unfriendly competition. You might have cold bouillon—which is just another way of saying clear consomme; jellied broccoli salad, set in "Wear-Ever" Salad Molds; crisp, hot rolls; a towering chocolate cake, and coffee which has been made the "drip" way in an Early American "Wear-Ever" Coffee Pot. Would you like a copy of my new cook book, "Things You Have Always Wanted to Know about Cooking"? In it I have told lots of my cooking secrets—for instance, how I crumb foods for deep frying so as to get a crisp crust; how to make cream sauces that are finer textured than cream itself! If you'd like a copy just use the coupon. Address THE ALUMINUM COOKING UTENSIL COMPANY, 1067 Sth Avenue, NEW KENSINGTON, PENNSYLVANIA. ★ 5 p j Why Good Cooks Prefer "Wear-Ever" Utensils They heat quickly all through the utensil, across the bottom and the sides . . . insure even cooking. They conduct heat much faster than many other metals used in cooking utensils, thus saving fuel. The utensil, not the flame, cooks the food thoroughly . . . avoids scorching . . . preserves flavor. They are easily cleaned. Good cleaners keep "Wear-Ever" bright with a minimum of labor. The Aluminum Cooking Utensil Company, 1067 5th Avenue, New Kensington, Penna. I enclose 50d for a copy of your book, "Things You Have Always Wanted to Know about Cooking." OCTOBER, 1932 1 I'd expect to have "Pink Tooth Brush" if I were old E VEN though your age is flatteringly young, even though your teeth are clean and gleaming, you still may arise some morning to find that there is "pink" upon your tooth brush. As a small child, your gums were firm. If you had always eaten coarse foods, they might still be firm—because coarse foods and tough foods stimulate the gums, make them work, keep them healthy. But with creamy soups, well-cooked meats and vegetables, tender salads and soft desserts, your gums get mighty little work and stimula¬ tion. Inactive, they become flabby and, sooner or later, they're so tender that they tend to bleed. And "pink tooth brush" arrives! "Pink tooth brush" may lead to gum troubles as serious as gingivitis and Vincent's disease and even pyorrhea (though the last is much more rare.) It may even threaten the sound¬ ness of your teeth. Today — get a tube or two of Ipana Tooth Paste. (Ipana is first of all a splendid modern tooth paste that really cleans the teeth, yet can't possibly harm the delicate enamel.) Now—each time you clean your teeth—put a little extra Ipana on your tooth brush or fin¬ gertip, and rub it lightly into your gums. Ipana contains an effective toning agent known as ziratol. This, with the daily mas¬ sage, will bring your gums back to a healthy condition. Slack circulation is speeded up— the walls recover the firmness they had when you were a child—and you're safe from "pink tooth brush"! DON'T TAKE CHANCES! A good dentist and a good dentifrice are not costly. To save on dentists' bills or to skimp on the quality of your tooth paste is poor economy indeed. For dental care and the best tooth paste you can buy are the most economical things on earth. BRISTOL-MYERS CO., Dept. B-102 Kindly send me a trial tube trflPANA TOOTH PASTE Enclosed I P A N TOOTH PASTE C A THE LIVING DELINEATOR OCTOBER, 1932 Maxine Davis, who knows Washington Grace HEGGER LEWIS started it months and months ago. She wrote me from Arizona where she was spending the winter months, and after mentioning this and that said: ''But the most exciting thing is my invita¬ tion to a ringside seat at the Democratic Convention and the invitation is from the National Executive Chair¬ man. And one of the Democratic women higher up! This woman suggested I get a magazine assignment, for I have the promise to be in the inner circle." To that, I answered immediately: "Now listen, you can be our representative at the Democratic Convention but any tale of the Convention itself will be awfully old stuff by the time we can publish it. We couldn't possibly get it into any issue earlier than October and think what the newspapers and the radio will have done to it by then. But how about personality stories of the Demo¬ cratic Party? It seems to me you have a wonderful chance to get the material there at the Convention." So that's how it happened. But as we're non-partisan, politically, we couldn't think of having an article about the Democrats without one about the Republicans. So we sent the brilliant Maxine Davis, who has known Washington politics for years, to the Republican Convention. To both our representatives we said, as a final word: "Don't write a lot of highfalutin bunk. People are so tired of that. Tell what you see and say what you mean in simple, everyday language." And now turn to pages 22 and 23 and read the results of our own little political campaign. Otherwise this October issue looks like Old Home Week, doesn't it, with so many Delineator favorites represented—William Lyon Phelps, Grace Hegger Lewis, Margaret Craven, Anna Brand, and isn't it delightful to have Dorothy Canfield back with us again? The one Grace Lewis starts something, praise for a new home sewing idea. Professor Phelps' travels, other behind-the-scenes gossip comparative newcomer is May Stanley, and if you don't like her new novel, my judgment is warped again. Usually, this more-or-less eagle eye notes even- great hit that appears in our pages. But something did escape me. and that's because the letters about it went to our Fashion Department instead of coming to my desk. The hit I'm speaking about now is a page in our July issue called "An Entire Wardrobe for Less than Fifty Dollars." That page brought in hundreds of letters from all over the country. I have the letters before me now. Here are a few examples. This is from Miss V. L. of Cincinnati, Ohio: "I was indeed pleasantly surprised. If all those pretty frocks can be made for such a small sum, there's no excuse for a small and uninteresting wardrobe." Mrs. J. E. D. of Ordway, Colorado writes: Cover Note Again, our cover sounds the newest fashion note from Paris. Dvnevor Rhys, that tal¬ ented young American artist, has painted his lovely model this time in a broadtail coat from Max-Leroy, in brown with matching fox collar and cuffs. It is worn over an after¬ noon frock of brown and white satin: lustrous brown skirt and dull white top. The hat from Agnes is of complicated cut, in green, over which are placed folds of brown cire satin ribbon, made to show the founda¬ tion through openings. Draped ends of the green cap are pulled through one of the openings on the left top and tied in a bow. Emerald beads, gardenias and dull white gloves complete the color ensemble. Grace Hegger Lewis and her son, Wells Lewis "'An Entire Wardrobe for $33.77' is the most complete and the most detailed of anything I have ever read." And Mrs. H. R. D. of Norwalk, California says: "I'm already starting the red and white dress and the white coat and am awfully pleased with them. I make all my own clothes and my little boy's too. Everyone always compliments me on how well dressed we are. Later on let's see you compile us a winter wardrobe." Well, Miss Marian Corey of our Fashion staff, who is responsible for that July hit, has taken Mrs. D's sugges¬ tion and compiled a charming and inexpensive winter wardrobe. You'll find it on page 62. William Lyon Phelps who spent last spring abroad has written a series of articles for us about his travels. If we can't go traveling ourselves just now, I can't imagine a more delightful companion to travel with—in imagina¬ tion—than Professor Phelps. The series starts with his interview with Mussolini in this issue. Next month, Frances Parkinson Keyes will be back with us with an inspiring message and there'll be short stories by Margaret Sangster, James Hopper, Gerald Mygatt and Dixie Willson, as well as the serials by Robert W. Chambers and May Stanley. Here's a blessing on Miss R. C. J. of Louisville, Kentucky who wrote me the other day and said: "How do you find so many good stories? I have been making a study of good short stories. I list every one in a book kept for that purpose. And I find at the end of a month more listed from Delineator than any other magazine." Well, Miss J. may be a little extravagant in her praise but she can't make me mad in that way. In fact, a letter like that—and I get lots of them too—is better than food and drink for Oscar Graeve, Editor CONTENTS, VOLUME 121, NUMBER 4 PUBLISHERS' ANNOUNCEMENT SPECIAL FEATURES DELINEATOR INSTITUTE COVER DESIGN DYNEVOR RHYS MUSSOLINI AND THE NEW SPIRIT IN ITALY WILLIAM LYON PHELPS Interior Decoration TABLE NEWS FROM ENGLAND.16 THE REPUBLICANS MAXINE DAVIS .22 THE DEMOCRATS GRACE HEGGER LEWIS .23 LIGHTING GIVES CHEERFULNESS FICTION BLUE MEADOWS, I MAY STANLEY.11, 12, 13 A FAMILY ALLIANCE DOROTHY CANFIELD. 14,15 THE FOOTPRINTS OF DIANE LE MAR MARGARET CRAVEN.17, 18 A LITTLE CAP FOR ANGEL ANNA BRAND. 19 ROBERT W. CHAMBERS .... 20, 21 Home Management STYLISH STOUTS FOR THE MENU ANN BATCHELDER A NEWSREEL OF NUTRITION DR. ESTHER LORD BATCHELDER. -1 GRACE I,. PENNOCK.32 Beauty TO LADIES IN WAITING CELIA CAROLINE COLE.34 AUTUMN FACES COME TO TOWN.73 Children WHAT IS A HEALTHY CHILD? WILLIAM PALMER LUCAS .... 6 DELINEATOR INSTITUTE BOOKLET SERVICE PUBLISHED MONTHLY BY The Butterick Publishing Company, Butterick Building, 161 Sixth Avenue, Neve York, N. Y" U. S. A. Joseph A. Moore, Chairman of the Board; S. R. Latshaw, President; IV. C. Evans, Secretary; Fred Lewis, Treasurer. Branches: Chicago, San Francisco, Atlanta, Dallas, London, Toronto. TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION The price of Delineator is 10 cents per copy; by subscription, $1.00 per year; $2.00 for two years; $2.75 for three years; Blue List, 15 months for $1.00 in advance, when called for at local : In _ .n*$1.50 pi months for $1.00. i n an vine ')•» by mail; by subscription, $2.0 ENTERED as second -, at the Post Office at New 1S79. Additional entr ( of March 3, 1879. Additional entry at Chari Colorado Springs, Colorado; Commons, unto; v.om Iowa; Houston, Texas; Jacksonville, Florida; Ka _. Missouri; Los Angeles, California; Louisville, Kentucky Mobile, Alabama; New Orleans, Louisiana; Oklahoma City Oklahoma: Philadelphia, Pennsylvania; Portland, Maine Portland, Oregon: St. Paul, Minnesota; San Francisco California; Savannah, Ge Since 1873 we have guaranteed the relia¬ bility of manufacturers advertising in our publications * The Butterick Publishing Company • By S. R. Latshaw • President 3 OCTOBER, 1932 What if he DOESN'T GAIN when you start him on solid food? I f every mother had a physician's advice when choos¬ ing her baby's first solid food, there would be little need of our telling them about Cream of Wheat. They would make this important change in their babies' lives with utter confidence. But when mothers try to make the decision them¬ selves, they often worry. Will he thrive? What if he doesn't keep on gaining And so, with the approval of the medical profession, at the urging of thousands of grateful mothers, we spread the news of this cereal uniquely fitted to a healthy baby's needs. This solid food babies handle like milk You can give your baby Cream of Wheat as a sure means of building up his health and weight. Wonder¬ fully easy and quick to digest, furnishing abundant energy, it has been recommended by leading baby spe¬ cialists for more than 36 years. For untried young digestions. Cream of Wheat has many special advantages. It comes in a simple granular form. It is entirely free from harsh parts of the grain. It is made with scrupulous regard for purity, and is pro¬ tected by a triple-sealed box against contamination. Thus it offers no problems to delicate little stomachs; babies digest it as easily and safely as milk itself. Free from upsets, they gain weight steadily, naturally. They thrive as they should and put on solid pounds. Take no chances with your baby's first solid food! Give him Cream of Wheat for its proved value in pre¬ venting digestive upsets, and insuring normal healthy gains in weight. Give it to your older children, too, as a protection through all of childhood's strenuous years. The Cream of Wheat Corporation, Minneapolis. In Canada, The Cream of Wheat Corporation, Winnipeg. Free —a wonderful child's game and a book on child feeding All children love the H. C. B. Club with a secret meaning. It makes a jolly game of their morning cereal. All the material is free—badges, gold stars and big new posters with stirring color pictures of childhood heroes—Joan of Arc, Roland and Oliver, Richard the Lion Hearted. We will also send you a valuable child health booklet. Mail the coupon to Dept. V- 45 , The Cream of Wheat Corporation, Minneapolis, Minn. Child's Name. Address. #Tune In on Cream of Wheat radio programs. Angelo Patri, over C.B.S. Wednesday and Sunday evenings, 7:45 Eastern Time, 6:45 CentralTime,9:i5 MountainTime, 8:15 Pacific Time. Jolly Bill and Jane, week day mornings, 7:45, from N.B.C. network stations. 4 DELINEATOR WILLIAM LYON PHELPS MUSSOLINI AND THE NEW SPIRIT IN ITALY Come, chat with Mussolini, in his vast and terrifying office. Dr. Phelps will introduce you I T IS superfluous to say that the leader of Italy is one of the busiest men in the world; he believes in work, and sets a good example. His physical exercise is taken on horseback, at seven o'clock in the morning, for he knows he would never have a chance for exercise or recreation between breakfast and midnight. As I was to be in Rome only three days, the opportunity for a conversation with him seemed none too favorable, although I was well armed with introductions. Hence I was more than pleased when an official letter came, asking me to present myself at the Palazzo Venezia, on Saturday, at six o'clock. Knowing that with Mussolini six o'clock means just exactly that, I reached the main gate of the Palace at 5157. An officer in uniform was expecting me; I was led up a flight of stairs, w'here three uni¬ formed officials gave me the Italian military salute, which I imi¬ tated as well as I could. One of them took my hat, coat, and stick, and as the city clocks struck six, I was led to a door; a knock and I was inside. The room was enormous. It seemed at least fifty yards long and thirty wide. It was brilliantly lighted. At the extreme other end, in the corner, a large desk in front of him, sat the most famous man in the world—Mussolini. There was no one else present. It was a long walk from the door to his desk. The floor was highly polished and seemed slippery. I was glad I had no favors to ask and no defense to make. I can well understand how one who comes begging would lose his assurance in crossing that vast sur¬ face; or how one who had been summoned for some error would wish the floor to open and swallow him. But I, knowing I had no request to make and no guilt to confess, got over that shining space pretty well. As I drew near the desk, the great leader rose, came around to meet me, and gave me a most friendly handshake. Then he sat down behind the desk. I sat down in front of it, and looked at him under the lamplight. He was in¬ formally dressed, with soft shirt and collar, and wore no uniform. The first thing one notices is his eyes—big, dark, expressive of an indomitable will that is making history. As I looked into the eyes of Mussolini, I was glad he was not an enemy and that I had never done anything to incur his dis¬ pleasure. And yet I do not wish to give the impression that he was haughty or overbearing in manner; on the contrary, I have never met anyone with whom I felt more at ease. He was so cordial and so informal himself that I felt not the least shade of embarrass¬ ment. It was simply that occasionally, when he was speaking with particular emphasis, his eyes opened so wide as to display the white entirely around the iris, so that the pupils glowed with ter¬ rific intensity. I could without difficulty imagine what those eyes of Mussolini looked like when the situation called for action. As I cannot converse in Italian, I wondered whether we should conduct the conversation in French or in German; but he settled that question immediately by speaking English, which he speaks easily though not with absolute fluency. He asked me if this was my first visit to Italy, and I informed him it was the third, but as the last time was 1912, I had not seen Italy for twenty years. He smiled and said significantly, "Do you notice any changes?" We had debarked at Venice, and as we motored around the countryside, I told him that my wife exclaimed: "How different every thing looks! What a clean and orderly country! How healthy and well dressed the people! And how everybody works!" I told him I was not an authority on politics and could not ex¬ press an opinion on national or international affairs. But it seemed to me that he had accomplished in ten years one of the most extraordinary and most difficult tasks. "Sir, you have changed the spirit, the temperament, the character of a whole nation. I always knew that the Italians were lovable, kindly, re¬ sponsive, affectionate; but I had thought they were easy-going, rather lazy; as compared with the Anglo-Saxons and Germans, I had thought they lacked energy and the will to work. But now not only do the Italians everywhere in the country work energetically and persistently, they seem to want to work." I reminded him of a remark made to me by an Italian marquis, Piero Misciatella, the famous Dante scholar who has recently lectured at Columbia University. I asked the marquis how he regarded the question of personal liberty in Italy under the present regime. He said, "There has been a release of personal freedom in energy, the like of which Italy has not known for many centuries." Mussolini said he hoped I would repeat this statement of the mar¬ quis in America. "In many parts of America and by many Ameri¬ cans I am not understood. They regard me as a tyrant and Italy as suffering under a tyranny. They are not familiar with actual con¬ ditions." CERTAINLY an enormous improvement in many ways is so ob¬ vious one cannot help seeing it. The excellent roads, the trains running faster and exactly on time, the long hours at school for boys and girls, the absence of beggars around church doors and other public places, the cleanliness of city streets, the steady and energetic work in town and country—all these exhibit a new spirit in Italy. He then spoke of American political affairs and asked me when we had our next national election. I said it would take place in November. "Not till then?" But I told him the nominating con¬ ventions would be held in June. I thought that Hoover would certainly receive the Republican nomination. "Who will run against him?" Well, I said I was no prophet, but it looked to me then as if Franklin Roosevelt, the Governor of New York, would receive the Democratic nomination. He asked, "What chance has Smith?" By the time these words appear in print I may be proved to be densely ignorant; but I said I thought that Mr. Smith did not have much chance of a nomina¬ tion, in spite of his personal popularity. He asked about business conditions in the United States and wished to know if I saw any evidences of immediate improvement. I told him that I was a teacher of literature, and that my views on finance and business affairs were unimportant; but that so far as I could see, there was no prospect of any great improvement in the immediate future. He said that the British people had made great strides forward in the last few months and that the situation in Italy was distinctly better. He believed that the whole question of reparations, etcetera, must be revised before the world could advance in the right direc- At exactly ten minutes past six he rose from his chair. His desk, like that of bank presidents and great captains of industry, contained very little on its surface; although he was examining a document of some kind when I entered the room. He came around in front of the desk, and shook hands so cordially that he seemed sincerely affectionate. "Present (Turn to page 38) OCTOBER, 1932 5 Make your home the center of the world! *36 5 .° to $295- PHILCO MODEL 15X, shown above, $150 Tax Paid... PATENTED ... 1. The PHILCO Inclined Sounding Board throws all sound up into field of listener, making all high notesheardforthefirsttime. 2. Large area of sounding board insures full reproduction of low notes. 3. Echo Absorbing Screen at the back prevents echo and blur, the first radio to deliver sound only from front of speaker. 4. Open sounding board instead of sound chamber affords clear unboxed tone. PHILCO REPLACEMENT TUBES IMPROVE THE PERFORMANCE OF ANY SET Philco-Transitone Radio for motor cars and boats $49.95 including Tubes and Tax. Complete installation for cars equipped with aerial will average less than $20. PHI LCO <Amusical instrument oj' (jiialiUj, 1 HOUGH you may live on an isolated farm ... or in an apartment in the heart of a teeming city . . . PHILCO makes your home the center of the world . . \ the great world of music, entertainment, and current events. Through the magic of PHILCO, famous orchestras will move into your living- room to lavish their hest efforts, their greatest talents on your entertainment. Comedy and drama . . . grand opera and dance music . . . reproduced with the perfection of tone quality only PHILCO can attain. Addresses by personages of international note . . . brought to you with all the delicate modulation which marks the difference between the genuine and an imitation. Close your eyes, turn your back and you feel that the distinguished speaker is right in the room with you. News of the day . . . quick flashes ... or full descriptions of happenings of nation-wide interest... reach you as promptly as if you were editing a great met¬ ropolitan newspaper. And by the sheer realism of its reproduction PHILCO transports you to the scene of action . . . gives you the thrilling sensation of being present in person where news is in the making. A nearby dealer will he happy to show and demonstrate PHILCO, the only radio scientifically designed as a musical instrument. See it. Hear it. Buy it. Enjoy it. PHILCO • PHILADELPHIA • TORONTO • LONDON 6 DELINEATOR WHAT IS A HEALTHY CHILD? With abounding, positive health, a child is ready and able to seek all good things of life T HE goal for each child should be not merely freedom from disease, but the possession of abounding, posi¬ tive health. With good health the child is ready and able to seek the other good things of life. Ill health is a great handicap to success, and when prolonged be¬ comes a tragedy. The child who is always a little "below par" can never achieve his best, while the bright-eyed, vigorous child usually makes his adjustments with ease. Health—-by which we mean the adequate functioning of the organism to meet the various physical demands of existence—is the basic factor in enriching life. There are laws of health which, if studied, understood and applied, finally lead to health. But progress in the field of health must often trample on the static and tra¬ ditional, as new facts are discovered that overthrow old theories and practises. Recent studies have shown the fallacy of overstandard¬ ization in many branches of child welfare. For example, a common fault of the recent past consisted of collecting data on a series of children, finding the average or group tendency of some mental or physical trait, and calling this average "normal." (The distinction between a numerical average and what is normal is of very great importance and is too often overlooked by experts as well as by laymen.) As an illustration, consider the widespread use (as a measure of nutrition in children) of the height-weight-age tables in schools, public health clinics, and doctors' offices. Too much significance has been attached to deviations from average weights for height and age. As a result, the usual belief among parents is that if a child is noticeably underweight according to the height-weight- age table, he is necessarily malnourished. But the basis of this table is average weight for height and age. Careful studies have shown that body weight is more closely related to width of shoulders, chest and hips than it is to height. Children are heavier or lighter than average not only as a result of their nutritional state, but also (and this is what we often neglect to take into ac¬ count) because heredity plays a large part in producing the stocky or intermediate types of body build. For example, an eight-year-old boy is fifty-two and a half inches tall and weighs fifty-seven and a quarter pounds. Since his "normal" weight according to the height-weight-age table is sixty-three pounds, he is DELINEATOR INSTITUTE Department of Child Training by WILLIAM PALMER LUCAS labeled nine per cent underweight by the school nurse. But he is a slender-built boy with narrow diameters at shoulders and hips; in fact, the ratio of the width of his body to his height shows that he is four and a half per cent narrower than the average eight-year-old boy in his social group. The ideal weight, as calculated for his par¬ ticular bony framework, is found to be fifty-six pounds. He is then found to be one and a quarter pounds above his ideal weight. In another case a six-year-old boy is forty-four inches tall and weighs forty-eight pounds. His "normal" weight on the height-weight-age table is forty-four pounds so he is labeled nine and one-half per cent overweight by the school nurse. But this boy is broadly built with large diameters, and the ratio of the width of his body to his height indicates that he is seven per cent broader than the average six-year-old boy in his social group. The ideal weight for his body is found to be forty-nine pounds so that he is actually one pound under his ideal weight. True, each child has a "normal" weight which can be estimated for his build. But the estimation of nutrition should always be an individual matter, determined ac¬ cording to the proportional amount of soft tissue padding on the child's body, rather than by comparing him ar¬ bitrarily with others of the same age or height. At THE present time, however, health reports sent home from the public schools at regular intervals announce flatly to millions of parents in America that their chil¬ dren are either under or over or exactly at "normal" weight. Let a child be labeled underweight, and tension and strain are often injected into what may or may not be a serious situation. In a frantic effort to bring chil¬ dren up to an often fictitious normal, parents take little heed of the danger of arousing, on one hand, anxiety, frictions, hypochondria—or, on the other, a negative at¬ titude of irritation and impatience with all health pro¬ cedures. The parent who is obviously too concerned about the child's health is lucky indeed, if his child does not fall, according to his temperament, into one or the other of these extreme attitudes. Parents of children of all ages will learn many helpful new things about growth, diet, habits of sleep, and mental health, from this article by a leading California specialist Forcing food upon a child who does not need it may upset his digestive processes and may end in open re¬ bellion. If a mother urges her child to eat some particu¬ lar food because it is "good for him," he may come to be¬ lieve that his eating is a very important thing in the life of his mother. His natural reaction is to use this new¬ found power of unwillingness to eat as a method of self- assertion. Lack of hunger, then, may become a psycho¬ logical attitude, developed by an over-conscientious mother who forces food in obedience to some artificial standard. The recognition of different foocf require¬ ments in children of different types, coupled with a knowl¬ edge of child psychology, will solve most problems of poor appetite. Besides this highly important psychological objection, there is also a physiological basis for criticism of forced feeding. By studying the individual child's physiological processes, it is possible to determine how often a child should eat and what kinds of food he can best assimilate. Of course there are some children with marked special needs, and for these, special diets can be prescribed. But just as it is impossible, because of inherited differ¬ ences in body build, to standardize weight by having only one zone of normal weight for a given age and height, so also it is equally impossible to standardize diets for a given age. Marked differences in size, shape, and po¬ sition of the stomach in various physical types are di¬ rectly related to differences in the digestive processes. The quantity and variety of food required varies with each type of child. Children who consistently refuse to eat, as well as chronically constipated children, are for the most part the slender-built type. (Turn to page 74) Courtesy of Snuggle Rug Heredity makes a child slender, tall, or stocky OCTOBER, 193 2 DELINEATOR GET WEAR out of your CLOTHES -with safe CHIPSO SUDS! STRONG SOAPS -Xdid.i- SOAPROTTSD TnlS THREADS TEAR-jp--N* ■ ■ ■ ■ W EASILY Jk fA ^ 'T\ I §r y not ^ r S- Johnny * "Look at Johnny's blouse!" said Beth, "I can't see why it TORE so EASILY!" * * * I had to WARN her against her STRONG granulated SOAP "You know how HARD it is on your HANDS," I said. "Well, it must be just as HARD on your CLOTHES. * * * "I want you to try CHIPSO," I said, "It's GUARANTEED to have NO FREE LYE! * * * It's HONEST RICH SOAP in CHIPSO that SOAKS' the clothes so CLEAN! And you'll know that CHIPSO is SAFE by the way it SMOOTHS your HANDS!" V 6 Wh° says cheap 4 soap chips are f/t a saving?" I trust only Chipso— that's guaranteed safe! I didn't use my HEAD when I tried out those CHEAP SOAP CHIPS! I got what I PAID for-POOR SOAP- and COLORED clothes got FADED! * * * My best FRIEND said to try CHIPSO, "It's MADE by PROCTER & GAMBLE, and it's GUARANTEED to have NO free LYE to weaken CLOTHES!" •(■ "j* *i* CHIPSO gives the BIGGEST VALUE in SUDS that I've yet to SEE— They certainly SOAK OUT DIRT— but leave the STRENGTH in MATERIALS! "My hands tell me that Chipso is safe . safe even for colored silks" I've DEAF EARS to any talk about CHEAP CHIPS or GRANULATED SOAP! I changed to CHIPSO when my GROCER told me, "Mrs. Johns, CHIPSO is SAFE-even for SILKS!" * * * SHEER STOCKINGS and SILK UNDIES - even colored SILKS—wash perfectly in those rich safe CHIPSO suds! * * * And now I wash DISHES with CHIPSO my MANICURIST says my HANDS are so much SMOOTHER! * * * It's wonderful to DEPEND upon CHIPSO. It SOAKS clean the FAMILY WASH- yet it's so SAFE for EVERYTHING! CLOTHES COST MONEY Chipso MAKES CLOTHES WEAR LONGER OCTOBER, 1932 DELINEATOR OV/dch oithese Grand Thrift Dishes do you like BEST? They are as digestible as they are good-to-eat I wish I could be looking over your shoulder now. I'd love to know which of these delicious thrift recipes appeals to you most. Of course, I'm really hoping you'll try all eight of them! You'll notice that I always specify Crisco in my recipes. I'm frank to tell you why I do it. I want my recipes to taste their very best when you make them—as they will, if you use sweet, fresh-tasting Crisco. But that isn't my only reason— I believe in protecting your digestions, too. So my recipes call for Crisco, the pure digestible shortening. I distrust heavy greasy fats that turn smelly and rancid— indigestible. Crisco's own pure, sweet taste tells you it's digestible For the good of your family's digestion, I do urge you to use Crisco. Just taste Crisco, then any other fat and I'm sure you will see the reason why. Crisco is pure and sweet-tasting all by itself—Crisco is digestible! Buy Crisco in that 3-lb. size that keeps you stocked up for a goodly time. You won't be taking a mite of risk, because Crisco is made by its own secret process to keep snowy and fluffy and digestible. Send for my radio cook book, "Good Things to Eat from Out of the Air." Yo.u'11 find what your radio favorites like to eat—and you'll have 136 of my tested recipes. Address me, Dept. XD-102, Box 1801, Cincinnati, O. Winifred s. carter 23 * :zi H cup Crisco SEX Ifir; jp** ^'cu^aprici^^ceTs^ ^minuta^ ^ HSIHii Wh, mam. (Whq does Crisco sfil digest emdij ? r0 1 Its /rare. sweet toste w ill tell ijo k OCTOBER, 1932 DELINEATOR OCTOBER, 1932 DELINEATOR Honestly, Lily's too dumb! The woman «■ p-fft. who sold me Junior's sweater suit said par¬ ticularly to wash it in Ivory Flakes. You don't need hot water to dissolve these thin, curly flakes. They are safe for wools. I told Lily that, but she used some other soap anyway. Now Junior's suit has shrunk so he can't wear it!" 11 a.TH. "I bought some terribly smart lounging pajamas. I was afraid the colors might run, but the clerk said they'd wash perfectly in Ivory Flakes. These tissue-thin, curly flakes dissolve in water the right temperature to prevent color fading. They don't flatten against silk, and make soap spots, or streak the colors." "John's sweet —but awkward! He served the breakfast — and spilled coffee all over my new peach-satin negli¬ gee. The salesgirl told me to wash it in Ivory, because Ivory Flakes are so safe. The thin curly flake dissolve instantly in lukewarm water. can't stick flat to satin and cause ugly streaks. I followed her advice and my negligee looks just like new." 6 p.m. When we were dressing for the Brant- well's dinner to¬ night, John said, 'Peg, you look nice. You're one of the few women I like to see in a sleeveless dress, because your hands are as smooth and white as your arms.' Was that music in my ears! I do take care of my hands, though—I never use anything but pure, gentle Ivory Soap for dishwashing and cleaning." tVtbj AaleA^ectde 7 The new Ivory Flakes are made chiffon- thin and curly so that they will dissolve fast—even in lukewarm water! They won't stick flat to silks or satins or fleecy wools and make soap spots. Salespeople in big department stores say "Wash it in Ivory," because they know goods washed this safe way will give better satisfaction. Ivory Flakes are made of the pure Ivory Soap doctors advise for bathing babies. No wonder they are safe for fabrics and your hands! Ivory Flakes now in bigger packages at lower prices! Now you can afford to use safe, gentle Ivory for everything. et^efcy ff w ivlictv aA$ it w ith IVORY Joy V! TISSUE THIN . . . CURLY . . . 99 00 °/ 0 PURE 11 She looked, Lige thought, like the figurehead of a ship as she stood there, facing the sea. And she was the woman he wanted Blue Meadows by MAY STANLEY Beginning a novel of the real America, of its seacoasts and its prairies, and of men and women who toil and love, suffer and rejoice, close to the heart of our daily life W HEN the thing happened, it set all of Goodhaven talking. Of course they had expected Captain Lige Bickers to marry someone—but not Abigail Hosmer, of all people! Old Daniel Hosmer, Abigail's uncle, summed up Goodhaven opinion when he said, "Sea-goin' folks and landsmen don't get along together. It ain't in natur'." And Lige was a sea-going man by inheritance and choice. Bom and raised in Goodhaven, he had fished there as a youngster, gone out from the little hamlet on his first trip to the Banks. After his mother's death, he lived alone in the old Bickers place—although a fisherman can hardly be said to live ashore. The years had brought him*a comfortable living and saw him, at thirty, the master of the Valhalla , a fast schooner with a flare to her forward hull that kept her dry as a week-old loaf. A big, upstanding man, Lige. Quiet and slow of tongue, with far-gazing blue eyes and a body strong as a cliff against which the sea breaks in vain. Abigail was strange to the sea and its ways. Her people had a farm inland, and she had only come to Goodhaven for a brief time, to care for her Uncle Daniel, who was "laid by the heels" with one of his periodic attacks of rheumatism. Lige saw her first standing on the porch of Daniel Hosmer's house, looking out toward sea. A strong southerly wind was blowing, pressing the girl's clothes tightly against her slender form, making her loosened hair stream out wildly. She looked, Lige thought, like the figurehead of a ship—a woman fashioned to gaze forever toward some far meeting place of sea and sky. (He could not know that Abigail's eyes were cold and that she was wishing her uncle would hurry up and get well so that she might go home, away from the sight and smell of salt water.) Even if he had known her thoughts, they would not have disturbed him. He would have said, and believed, that she felt that way because she'd always lived inland. That there might be people who hated the crash and roar of waves, the whisper of the tides, was outside his reckon¬ ing. But the first sight of Abigail made him realize that here, at last, was the woman he wanted, one to take his mother's place in the old white house where four genera¬ tions of Bickers women had lived—and waited for the homecoming of their men. Two weeks later they went down to Portland and were married . . . Abigail felt it would be an easy matter to persuade her husband to give up fishing. Of course he talked about it a lot, and about the vessel, but that was just a Illustrations by CLARK FAY man's way. Didn't her father talk the whole time about potatoes and turnips and pigs? She would coax Lige to sell this house and his share of the Valhalla and use the money to buy a farm up home. Just as soon as swordfishing season was over and they had a little more time together, she would have a talk with him. Meanwhile it was nice to be mistress of this roomy old house—so long as you knew you wouldn't have to stay in it too long—and nice to realize that other, and prettier, girls looked at her with envy in their eyes. During her husband's first trip to the Banks, Abigail spent the two weeks of his absence in house-cleaning; polishing tables and chests and beds, all of solid mahog¬ any, taking down from the top shelves of the old pine cupboard its precious store of glass and china, washing and sorting the pieces carefully, unpacking old sea chests that held lengths of shimmering embroideries and strange figures of jade and lacquer, exquisitely wrought—treasures brought from far ports by the Bickers of other days. The embroideries Abigail put carefully back, but the lacquer and jade figures she carried to the edge of the cliff, and flung them into the sea. It should never be said that Abigail Bickers—a church member in good standing —harbored heathen idols beneath her roof! But she did not tell Lige of this act of vandalism, rightly surmising that he would disapprove. There were a number of things, she soon learned, about which he held strong views. When she broached the sub¬ ject of selling his holdings here and buying a farm, Abigail was amazed to find that her husband would not even consider such an idea. "I don't seem to see what you're aimin' at," he said DELINEATOR, OCTOBER, 1932 OCTOBER DELINEATOR slowly. "Ye don't mean it's in your mind to have me give up fishin', do you?" "Well, my sakes! you don't need to look like that" Abigail returned, irritated by the blank surprise on his face. "I'm just telling you how I feel. I don't like— things here ..." She made a vague gesture toward the window that looked seaward. "I like land around me, growing things to look at, and a man who's home instead of away the biggest part of the time." "Why—I hadn't figgered anybody'd not like it here." "Of course," Abigail said, determined to be patient, "it's all right to stop here a while. I wouldn't ask you to sell at a loss, or anything like that. But I wouldn't want to make my home in a place like this." "You mean—you wan't aimin' to stay here when you married me? You figured then that you'd get me to sell and move away?" "I figured we'd make our home some place different from this," Abigail returned tartly. " 'Tisn't only the sea—though, goodness knows, that's bad enough! But I don't like the folks. They're just queer, if you ask me. And no church to go to on Sundays, nor sociables, nor church doings of any kind. I can't get used to it." "If it's meetin' you hanker for." Lige said thought¬ fully, "I can al'ays take ye up to Jonesport, or across to Gull Harbor—when I'm home. Here in Goodhaven we don't seem to hold much with preachin'." "That's easy seen," his wife returned disapprovingly. "It's an ungodly place—and I'm used to places where folks live decent, God-fearing lives; where there's preach¬ ing and missionary meetings and the like o' that. Mebbe if I hadn't been brought up to them things I wouldn't mind it here, but I do. I'd like for you to sell here and buy a farm. Then we could-" "But, Abby, you ain't give it a chance yet! I mean, ye can't judge a place lessen ye've lived in it a while and kind of—kind of let yerself be friendly with it." His voice softened as he went on: "I ain't much of a hand for talkin', never was, but I'd like to make ye see there's something to salt water, something ye can't get from anything else. Living by it, ye get to feeling there's more to the world than just folks and their—their leetle goings-on. Ye get to see how big God must be, when he could make the like o' that and divide it off from the land—" He stopped abruptly, conscious of Abigail's horror. "I'll thank you not to blaspheme afore me again!" she said stiffly. "It's sinful to talk like that." "And as for sellin' my share of the vessel," he went on steadily, "I can't do that. I'm responsible for her and for what she does. More'n that, my work's here, Abby. The way your folks feel about the land, raising crops and such, is the way I feel about salt water. I'd have told you that afore we was married, if you'd asked me." It was one of the rare occasions when Abigail took refuge in tears. "But I tell you, I hate it here!" she sobbed. "And I hate the water! You can't get away from it, not for a minute. Day or night, a body can hear it. There ain't no words for how I hate it!" "Nor for how I love it," the man said in a low voice. He stood up and went slowly toward the door. "But hate or love—it's all one to the sea, I guess." He paused in the doorway, to say gently: "I wish ye'd give it a chance, Abby. Come out in the vessel with me now' and again and see if it don't make ye feel diff'rent." "I don't want to. I'm telling you now that I don't like it—I don't like Goodhaven, nor having you away more'n half the time, nor the goings-on when the vessel does get in. All of you carousing and going your wild ways, with¬ out let or hindrance! Some day the Lord's w'rath'll fall on you, mark my words!" "When it does," he returned quietly, "I'll be ready to meet it—like I am other things—but, I wish, Abby, ye wouldn't say things like that. First off, it ain't true. F'olks here don't carouse. Mebbe somebody'll get a mite jollified now' and again, from takin' a nip o' whiskey to keep out the cold; but that's all. We don't hold much with preachers and the like o' that, because w r e can't see any sense in havin' a feller who's never been to sea stand up and tell us what to do and how w r e'd ought to five. We know how'. A man learns from fishin', learns a lot o' things." "Mebbe you think so-" "I know so. And I'd like to feel, w'hilst I'm out fishing, that you're here—thinkin' about me and the vessel, watchin' the tides and the set o' the wind, hopin' I'll be back soon with a good stock. Bickers women—that's their work, Abby. Al'ays has been. Al'ays will be." THEY had been married nearly three years when Abigail told him that they w'ere to have a child. She made the announcement quietly enough, one morning at breakfast the day after Lige had come home from a trip. "I w r ent to see Doctor Hazlett, over to Holmsport, yesterday. Ain't been feelin' just right for a while and I got to wondering. He says I'm going to have a baby." Lige was silent for a moment, then he came around the table and drew her into his arms. "Can't begin to tell you how glad I am, Abby. I—I was nigh to givin' up hope." "So w'as I," she admitted, "and I've been feeling bad about it, but now—Lige, he's just got to be a boy!" "Why, sure he'll be a boy!" her husband returned cheerfully. "Stands to reason." His heart sw'etled exultantly. Things would be all right at last! The young one was what Abigail needed. With him to tend and look out for, she'd be happy, stop talking about things inland. The old house would have Bickers children running about it once more, there'd be a son to teach ... he would make him a good fisherman . . . Abigail was talking. "If he's a boy, I aim to have him grow up and study to be a preacher." "You aim—w'hat'd you say, Abby?" At the amazement in his voice, her lips tightened ominously. "I said I want him to be a preacher. You don't think I'd let any son of mine be a fisherman, do you?" For a few moments he sat without speaking. When he began, it was in a level voice, as though paying out each word carefully: "The Bickers are sea-goin' folks, Abby, but I guess you don't sense yet what that means. For more'n two hundred years we've lived on this coast, made it our home, gone out from here—deep-sea fishin' or on whalin' vessels. Any boy I'm father to will have salt water in his blood!" Abigail looked at him searchingly, then her gaze with¬ drew itself as though tinning inward to some secret wall of strength, where he could not follow. She rose and began gathering up the dishes, piling plate on plate with sure hands. "If you're done breakfast," she told him, "I'll get redded up. It's nigh on to eight o'clock and my bread needs seeing to." Thereafter she did not speak of the child to him, except when she must answer his questions. Yes, she was feeling fine. Yes, she'd seen Doctor Hazlett—twice a month, as he'd told her. The doctor said everything was going the way it ought. Lige engaged Lissie Caton, one of the tribe of Caton youngsters, to help with the housework, and also ar¬ ranged with Hannah Anne Parse—a rugged spinster who worked for summer visitors but could, if the need arose, also act as midwife—to stay with Abigail while he was away. The doctor had told Abigail to take a walk each day that the weather was fine, and she fell into the habit of rambling along over the cliffs until she found some nook sheltered from the sea wind. Here she would sit for hours, dreaming of the time when her son, a man grown, should take his place as one of the leaders of the church. When the child stirred in her womb, she would cross her hands above it and pray that he might be strong and vigorous, a mighty warrior in the army of God . . . At night, lying sleepless while the long hours crept slowly past, she would listen to the swish and break of the waves or the long murmur of an incoming tide—and smile triumphantly. Under her breast a man-child was growing—a man whom the sea should not have! Of course, when her son grew up, he might not feel the call for missionary work. And, perhaps, that would be best. She pictured a quiet town—a church spire rising slimly above friendly elms, bells calling to service, people observing the Lord's day as they should, on their knees 'Now, what is them boys—' Mereen was beginning. But he neverended the sentence 12 19 3 2 DELINEATOR reverently listening to her son's voice interceding for them . . . In her scheme of life, Lige was no longer important. He had opposed her, held of no account the things she valued most. Very well, then! Let him take the result. The Lord had listened to her. Not Lige, not even the sea, was strong enough to thwart her now! Yet, in some curious way, she still clung to her husband, fretful and exacting, drawing assurance from his quiet strength, his never-failing kindness and care. Jealously, she had made him promise, over and over, that he would not be out fishing when her time came. But the time came sooner than she thought, and Lige was out at the Banks, swordfishing, the day that their daughter was bom. It WAS a sultry August afternoon, with an overcast sky promising rain, when Captain Bickers reached Good- haven. Hannah Anne Parse—tall and weather-beaten—stood in the doorway of the homestead as he came up the path. "How's Abby?" were his first words. "Is she all right? Nothing happened-" "Yes, there was. Ye got a darter." Lige took the news in silence. After a moment, he said: "And Abby, is it all right with her? Does she mind—- havin' a girl?" "Sure she minds—her bein' completely sot that it was goin'to be a boy! I told her it wan't right. 'Ye can'never figger them things fer sartain,' I says, but she wouldn't listen." "No, likely not." She nodded. "Want I should fetch the young un out here? Or, air you aimin' to go in and see 'em both?" "I'll go in." He went slowly across the sitting room, where blinds had been decorously drawn, and pushed open the door of the "spare bedroom." Here also the room was in half¬ darkness, and the woman in the huge bed was only a shadowy mound beneath the white covers. She did not move as he came in, or give any sign of having heard him. "Well, Abby!" Bickers tried, without success, to make his voice cheerful. "I got here." A NOVEL OF THE MEN WHO GO DOWN TO THE SEA IN SHIPS, AND OF THE WOMEN WHO WAIT AND, SOMETIMES, REBEL "Say, the baby's strong!" Lige announced in surprise. "But had it ought to be only that size?" She did not speak, and after a moment's pause, he went "It wan't my fault we stayed out so long. Didn't sight a fish for more'n a week. And I had to think of the crew. I couldn't turn back so long as they didn't have anything to pay 'em for the trip." Her eyes opened slowly. "Yes, of course, the crew!" Abigail's words were a frail thread of a sound. "The crew and the vessel! You don't forget them. You'd think of them—and of everything else in the world but me. What did I matter, here alone?" "But you wan't alone. There was the doctor, and Hannah Anne—and anybody else you needed-" "Yes, everybody but you—who'd ought to have been here. No wonder the young one is what she is! If you'd a stayed home like you ought, and set your mind on me, I'd a had a man-child!" "Don't talk that way, Abby, ye'll only set yerself back. Anyways, a girl-baby'U be comp'ny for you and mebbe— after a while-" "The doctor says," she returned grimly, "that I'll never have another." "Well, doctors have been wrong afore this. Even if it is true, I've got it in my heart to set a lot of store by a darter. Don't you feel that way, too?" "No." Lige sighed, reached out one huge hand and gently stroked her hair. Abigail lay rigid beneath the caress and presently he moved away, saying quietly, "You'll feel better about things when ye're a mite stronger. Is she here? I—I'd kind of like to look at her." Abigail made an indifferent gesture toward the small mound in the bed with her. Captain Bickers lifted a corner of the blanket and peered intently at the red¬ faced mite beneath. His daughter squirmed under the unwelcome light. Her tiny hands wavered aimlessly, then clutched at one of his fingers and held fast. "Say, she's strong!" he announced in surprise, then added dubiously, "But not so terrible big. Had she ought to be only that size?" "She's big as most, I guess. D'you mind going out now, Lige? The doctor said for me to keep quiet." GoODHAVEN lies in a sheltered hollow, with all the North Atlantic] for its front dooryard. At either end of the bay which gives the little hamlet its name, tall cliffs rise as though striving away from the tides that swirl strongly about their feet. They hem in the strag¬ gling cluster of gray-roofed houses so that, to the eyes of a stranger approaching by water, Goodhaven seems to be nestling confidently in a curved arm of the sea. To reach the place by land, one must follow a winding country road that severs itself from the main highway a few miles back and goes wandering casually across rocky terrain and through a sparse growth of spruce and poplars before dropping down the long (Turn to page 52) 13 DELINEATOR OCTOBER A DOROTHY CANFIELD A Delineator favorite returns to our pages with a charming and humorous story of people quite like you and me FAMILY ALLIANCE She had never read Thomas a Kempis's axiom that temptation can do no more than show what stuff you are made of. For that matter she had never heard of Thomas a Kempis or any other literary classic not included in the required reading list of the Blue Falls High School. So far but not a step further up the educational lad¬ der her beneficent country had coaxed the reluctant Jigger. (Her name was really Gladys, but that along with many other things about her was not known to the young crowd she ran around with in New York. The first eve¬ ning, before Dora Warren had a chance to introduce her, one of the boys, several inches shorter than she, had asked ironically, "Who's the cute little jigger with the cock¬ eyed bob?" And Jigger she remained thenceforward.) But if she ever had heard that axiom she would have called the worthy Thomas a darned old liar. For she was convinced that all her troubles were to be laid to tempta¬ tion alone, and that the stuff she was made of had nothing to do with the matter. Temptation's name was Dora Warren. Like every in¬ sidious danger, Dora was apparently harmless. She seemed to want nothing for herself but to think that everything Jigger did was cute. They had met only a few months after Jigger had clawed her way to the New York job she had set her heart on from the time she could read the fashion magazines. She had only just had time enough to find out that all her clothes were impos¬ sible and where to get others, where to have her hair done and where to buy shoes, and in general to get her New York legs under her, when Dora, who had broken into the big town all of a year before, dropped in one night to see if the food in that; boarding-house was any better than in the others she had sampled. It was not; but she thought Jigger marvelous. They had about the same kind of job and made about the same salary. They both came from small places and w'ere crazy about New York. Dora proposed that they join forces, rent a studio apartment— they called it that—and have some decent eats. Not to speak of latch-keys. They were different enough to get on very well to¬ gether. Dora's typewriter stood in a publisher's office, and Jigger's was in that of a silk importer. Dora was rather plain—that is, she was pretty in the dowdy 1880 way, plump and little and smiling, with curly hair and rosy cheeks and regular features. The kind our fore¬ fathers thought "looked good enough to eat." With that r88o outfit the poor girl had learned early, of course, to expect little enough in the way of admiration and to take thankfully what she got. Jigger was plain, in the way that is pretty now-—long- legged, flat-hipped, sleek-haired, with a thin face and high cheek bones. She had picked up, along with her clothes, the weary, slightly sinister expression that went with them, and successfully gave the desired effect of being something that would poison you if you ate it. They settled down very soon into the roles to which they were destined by their looks, Dora to being the one who did the kissing, Jigger to extending the cheek. Jigger, introduced by Dora to her crowd, instantly took precedence over her, in virtue of long legs, irregular fea¬ tures and a snugly fitting aura of poison. Dora, humble through long practise, took up the second fiddle without resentment, and fell without protest, even gratefully, into the role of satellite, doubled with that of press agent. For, used to getting her limelight by reflection and being really very warm-hearted, she enjoyed nothing more than telling people nice things about Jigger and her family. Now I put it to you, how could anybody expect Jigger, inexperienced in life as she was, to foresee the danger lurking in Dora's pleasant little puffs? For that matter when Dora let fall the statement that the Pratts—■ Jigger's people—"were one of the old land-owning fami¬ lies in the upper Hudson Valley," she was telling the truth. And so she was when she told the crowd that "Jigger is running up to spend the week-end at her people's country place." You couldn't object to that. Jigger didn't any¬ how. Nor to "Jigger's mother is a professional woman, too. A musician—pianist," though later this became a "concert pianist." You couldn't even object, nor what you'd call object, when she said, "Her father was an army officer before he returned to civilian life to take over her grandfather's affairs." Every word of it was so. What could Jigger have done about it? As far as that goes (just as a person who constantly hears a foreign language comes to think in it) she slid pretty soon into using Dora's lingo herself. She not only said but thought that "I'm just running up for the week-end to my people's country place." She was, wasn't she? And on the first evening she met Spike Hunter, it was she herself, not Dora at all, who let fall that her people were one of the old land-owning families in the upper Hudson Valley, and that her mother was a concert pianist. But then she was so flustered that night she would have said anything. She mentioned her folks only be¬ cause someone had just told her that the snappy young thoroughbred being introduced to the crowd was a Yale graduate, son of a fine old Ohio family, and she hoped a hint that she too had a Family might attract his atten¬ tion. For she wanted him to like her from the min ute she saw his queer.dark face with its fuzzy, funny eye¬ brows and its black eyes and its bulging forehead. She liked his line. She liked his eyebrows. She liked his voice. It was not just that she was getting awfully tired (though she was) of living in one room and pretend¬ ing it wasn't the bedroom, and of delicatessen food, and cooking over a gas ring and dressing as though she earned more than she did, and talking about things she didn't know anything about, and in general living according to a pattern that fitted her looks better than it did her. She was twenty-four years old now, Jigger was, had lived with Dora in one or another "studio apartment" for longer than she ever admitted, and there were mo¬ ments when she panted for a kitchen with a coal range. She seldom allowed herself to think of that coal range, because when she did her mind was almost instantly out of control. Before she could open the copy of the New Yorker on her knee, she was swept from the airy kitchen in which the dream range stood, out to a breeze-swept, vine-shaded back porch on which sat a non-poisonous Jigger shelling peas out of her own garden, and from there to a real dining room, not an alcove, and upstairs to a bedroom with a real bed in it. A double bed. But, truly, this was not why she was crazy about Spike Hunter, any more than spring is why seeds sprout. They wouldn't sprout if it weren't springtime of course. But there have to be seeds before springtime can do any¬ thing with them. Whether it was the mention of her family or some¬ thing else, Spike liked her all right. She hardly dared believe he did as much as he seemed to. Before long they stopped going around with the crowd and went around together. A striking couple they were, who might have stepped right out of the advertisements of a transatlantic steamship line—you know, the quietly smart, upper-class couple who play shuffleboard and lean over the rail, and on the dock are not cringingly ashamed but happily proud of their luggage. Yes, I know that is another advertisement but it is the same couple. Jigger knew they looked like that, but it didn't seem so impor¬ tant to her as it would have five years ago. In fact it seemed less important to her with every minute. Some¬ time, when she and Spike were, with astonished awe, discovering yet one more idea or feeling they had in common that nobody else had ever shared, she forgot all about how she looked for half an hour at a time. You can't imagine how this rested her. Spike had made no secret of the fact that he had taken to Jigger on sight and, getting off to a fast start, he kept on burning up the track. Before long, a paltry two months, he was adoring her and telling her so and Jigger was so happy that she ached all over, and might have lost the discontented, scornful expression that made her look so distinguished if a secret uneasiness gnawing at her heart had not fastened it still more firmly on her face. But then, defying convention in the courageous way that made her love him so, Spike asked her to marry him, not companionately but permanently, even though he wasn't making very much money yet, just as her father 14 19 3 2 DELINEATOR These two seemed the very essence of New York, yet the girl was saying, "I'd love a little house with a garden" Illustrated by CAROLYN IDMUNDSON had asked her mother; and forgetting all about that uneasiness, Jigger cried heartily for joy just as her mother had, and said yes, sure, she couldn't think of any¬ thing she'd like better and she didn't give a damn about the money. (This sentiment if not the turn of the phrase was also like her mother.) And then, Dora being "family" for the New York Jigger, thev went to tell her, and she said, "Oh, how marvelous! You'll have the wedding at your people's country place, of course." And Spike who had to listen a good deal to Dora's line while waiting for Jigger to get dressed to go out with him said, "Sure, where else?" YoU are thinking that it was then she heard the breakers crashing. You are wrong. She was still in too much of a shining cloud to look ahead. She said, "Oh yes.'" on a long breath of excitement at the very idea of her wedding day. It was the letter from Spike's father and mother that gave Jigger her first intimation of the trouble Dora had got her into. She and Spike had written to their families the'same day. But the answer from Jigger's parents, living much nearer, came first. They wrote to Jigger as they always did, only more so, naturally, and Jigger being in an emotional state anyhow, shed some more delicious tears over their motherly and fatherly love and anxiety and hopes for her .happiness. They each had written and enclosed a note to Spike, too. "Sweet!" Jigger thought them. But Spike was out in Ohio on business and was taking advantage of the trip to visit his parents so she couldn't hand her own parents' greet¬ ings over to him at once. They too, of course, looked forward to her being married from her own old home. "Mamma says wait till June when the peonies will be out," wrote her father, "and if you do, I'll get the barn and chicken house painted." But two days later came the letter from Spike's family, the Hunters of Ohio. Jigger opened the big square en¬ velop, and read the well-turned phrases (there was a marked family likeness to Spike's style in them) written in very black ink on thick creamy linen paper, and al¬ though they gracefully expressed a cordial welcome to her as their son's fiancee, she looked very sober. She took out her parents' letters. They had been written on sheets torn off the family pad, and she guessed by the looks the ink had partly dried down in the bottle and her mother had added a little water to make it run better. That afternoon after office hours, if you had been work¬ ing at the stationery counter of a chic New York depart¬ ment store, you might have seen a tall, dark, sophisti¬ cated-looking Park Avenue girl with a worried expression, buying a box of the most expensive (Turn to page 36) Mrs. Pratt thought: What use are the best clothes Blue Falls can offer, when this glorious Paris vision is the mother of the man my child will marry? 15 DELINEATOR OCTOBER TABLE NEWS from England, by helen ufford Above: Leisurely, comfortably, to begin the day—with this charming breakfast tray proudly equipped for a simple breakfast in bed. A copy of "The London Times" really should have been part of this breakfast setting! In distinguished homes in London and in the pleasant English countryside— homes renowned for their hospitality —Delineator set and photographed these British tables of various kinds Photographs by E. J. Mason, London Above: The gay spirit of a fragrant English garden is in this high-hearted luncheon setting. Jocund white hya¬ cinths in the center bowl and in mossy flower pots. Flowers bloom also on the flat place plate and side plate Right: This sophisticated table we photographed just after it had been completed for a dinner party. Wisely no cloth conceals the handsome table. Centerpiece of Chinese horse statu¬ ettes, in proud parade. Simple crystal Above, left: As "merry and bright" as the old English song is this lunch¬ eon table. In the center dish, dewy fruits artfully arranged. Silver tank¬ ards filled with pert garden flowers. Traditionally, the roll is in the serviette Happily, graciously this dinner table wel¬ comes the guests. Lovely lace doilies. Tall, shaded candles. Handsome cased crystal 16 Individual place: No service plate. Serviette debonairly "A dish of tea," ladies and gentlemen, and folded in European fashion. Tablespoon for soup. A knife such tea! With lovely English silver. Cheery for every fork. Bone-handled knives. Above, dessert silver English china. And delicious things to eat 19 3 2 DELINEATOR The FOOTPRINTS of DIANE Le MAR b Y Now let's visit that glamourous Hollywood, and share the trials and triumphs of one of its stars HE dav when Diane Le Mar joined the immortals by putting her hand- and footprints into the cement of the big theater courtyard, started all wrong. At eight sharp the telephone began to ring, de¬ spite the fact that Diane had long since copied Holly¬ wood's famous by keeping her name out of the directory. In the mail had come a butcher knife covered with red paint from some insane admirer. At noon had come the man who demanded to see the star herself, and wouldn't go away until he was threatened with the police. At three o'clock had come Cal for one of his rare, brief visits. The housebov had called the studio and told Diane that her husband was home. Diane had called Stelling, the studio czar. Stelling had gone for a press agent. In a few moments he would be back, and the three of them would shut themselves up in Stelling's inner office, preparatory to giving Calvin King the proper amount of atmosphere necessary to the husband of cinema's newest find. While she waited in her new sable coat which was not paid for, Diane tried to stop thinking—and failed. On the desk was a movie magazine, and in the movie maga¬ zine was the usual paragraph: "Miss Le Mar , then a beautiful young society girl from Texas, visited Hollywood three years ago. A famous director saw her dancing at the Ambassador, and struck by her rare beauty and charm, etc., etc., etc." She didn't have to read this because she knew it by heart. She had seen it so often these past three months that she had come to believe it. It was only in moments like this that she was forced to remember it wasn't true. She hadn't been a society beauty. She hadn't even been very young. Calvin King and his wife, Missie, had ar¬ rived in a shabby, dusty car, and spent their first night in the Water Hole, which is a district where the men who work in Westerns have their boots made or their bridles mended. Cal had liked it because it smelled of home, and Missie hadn't for the same reason. And after dinner they had strolled down the boulevard to see what they could see, which is exactly what all tourists do at that hour anyway. Now, there is no one Hollywood. There are several. You see which one you want to see. Cal had seen the palm fronds against the sky, and the terrier pups in the dog store window. Missie had seen those people who looked as if they were in the movies and probably weren't, but not those who looked as if they weren't and probably were. If that were all, Diane Le Mar would not have been waiting so impatiently in Stelling's inner office. Missie King had seen one thing more. In front of the Chinese theater, sightseers were staring at their feet. The great front court was marked off into squares, and in a chosen few were the names of the stars written by themselves in the cement before it was dry. "May this cement our friendship, Joan Crawford," or "Every best wish, Gloria-Swanson." And in each square, close to the name, was the handprint of the star herself, and the mark of her high-heeled slipper. Missie had tried her own foot in the mark of Mary Pickford's tiny shoe. Right out in front was a big vacant square. She had stood on that, too, and suddenly across her commonplace life had swept the vivid force of am¬ bition. In that square she had seen her own name—the name she had become that very instant. These Are the Hand- and Footprints of Diane Le Mar. Diane had forgotten Missie King. She had forgotten Cal's friend who worked in cowboy pictures and gave her a start. She had forgotten the three years of careful, strained climbing. She had almost forgotten Cal. But she had not forgotten that square of cement into which, tonight, she was going to put her mark. It was not cold, but she shuddered a little and drew her wrap closer, and pushed the magazine across the desk. Then the door opened and Stelling came in with the press agent, and they both sat down. For a moment there was an uneasy silence, because no one knew how to begin. "We've gotta do something about this husband of yours, Diane," said Stelling, finally. "Now don't take this too personal. I expect he's a grand fellow r . But it won't do either of us any good to have the public know you're married to a Texas rancher who talks about the price of beef on hoof." Then he sighed. It was hard enough to keep tab on these movie queens without play¬ ing nurse-maid to their husbands. "It's too bad he isn't a bond salesman or a broker, or even a lawyer," smiled Stelling. "That's more genteel. Well, what I want you to do is to tell Miss Miller about him. She'll do the rest." Then he went out, and Diane was left alone with this woman who opened an alligator bag and took out a bunch of copy paper, and two pencils sharpened at both ends. Diane watched her carefully. Miss Miller was experi¬ enced and hard, and not quite immaculate. She had the kind of eyes that no woman should have, that belong by rights only to men who know too much. Eagle eyes! Waiting eyes! Cynical eyes! Eyes that said to Diane: "I shall be well paid for what these pencils say about you. You will send me expensive presents and take me to New York, and we will both know why." ALREADY Diane hated these women who snooped around for tidbits about the stars and peddled them to papers and magazines—these women to whom every movie star owes so much. "Let's begin," she suggested nervously. Miss Miller said, "Tell me about your husband." "He is much older than I," began Diane, who was twenty-seven to Cal's thirty-three. "I met him when I was a young girl. He owns fifteen thousand acres left to him by his father." She did not add that fourteen thousand of those acres were practically worthless. The pencil began to scratch: The husband of this charming screen star inherited an estate of twenty-five thousand acres from his father. "He went to college," said Diane helpfully. Yes—cow college where he wore overalls, and learned how to plow a field with the latest tractor. The pencil moved again: He is a university man who manages his estate and spends his spare time -with his books and his dogs. "He has traveled?" asked Miss Miller. "He went to France in the war." He has traveled extensively on the Continent, wrote Miss Miller. There was more—lots more—and all quite painless. Finally, Miss Miller put down the pencils which had lost MARGARET CRAVEN Diane Le Mar had come into her own! She fluttered her eyelashes, exactly as she had seen all the other stars do before her 17 DELINEATOR OCTOBER their fine points and said: "That will be enough. Thank you, Miss Le Mar. And if you will excuse me for being bold enough to suggest, if I were you, I should be seen only with your leading man tonight. Your first big premiere." Diane nodded. She had thought of that herself, would never do for her to step out under the marquee of the smartest theater in town with Cal who called evening clothes "monkey suits." When the Miller woman had gone, Stelling came back and put Diane in her car. It was her first big car—custom built, naturally— which the chauffeur sat exposed to the elements, and she sat in the back seat enclosed by plate glass. If you can believe it, it was lavender with a sort of baby-blue trim. In it Diane felt safer. She looked at Patrick's uni¬ formed back and, beside him, Suzanne, looking exactly as a personal maid should with the leather box of make¬ up on her knee. But she was not through yet. There still remained the task of finding some way to keep Cal from accompanying her tonight, and, if possible, to get rid cf him. When the car had stopped at her new home in Beverly Hills, she found Cal in the drawing-room. "Hello, dear," she greeted him. "How's the ranch:" He held her off a moment and then kissed her. "I'v< missed you," was all he said. This was her chance, and Diane knew it. She held his coat lapels and let tears come into her e - "Why don't you stay here? Why wc tied to be just a movie star's husband?" she begged him. "Give up that old ranch. I'll get you a job in the scenario department." Diane had noticed that when a husband couldn't do anything else, they let him write. "I'll buy. you a foreign-built roadster." She felt him stiffen. And then he laughed. "And give me an allowance not too conspicuously," he teased her, "while I make a pretense of working at something I don't know anything about. No thanks!" She had hit where it hurt, and she knew it. "I think you're silly," she smiled at him. "Paying these brief visits when you might as well stay. We'll have dinner early tonight because I have to dress for a premiere. Tonight's the night I put my hand—and footprints in the sands of time. Silly, isn't it? Did you bring evening clothes?" "What?" "Well, of course, it's a dress-up affair. Thousands of people and lights and an¬ nouncers, and the streets roped off. Isn't it the limit? When I would rather stay home." "You mean you want me to go with you?" asked Cal. "Of course. Patrick will drive us down." The door was open and they could see the car. "You mean you expect me to ride in that car?" asked Cal. "With thousands of people staring at us. Why, I'd feel like a pink elephant. I should say not." "But, dear, I can't go alone," she protested. i "Honey," said Cal positively. "I guess you'll just j have to stick your feet in that cement without me | there. I don't mind a mad bull, but gosh-" ! "Now, dear, don't you worry. I know how you feel. ; I'll call up my leading man. He's used to this sort of thing." _ _ ; "You're sure you don't mind?" said Cal, relieved. Diane said, "Of course not. I don't mind a bit." And that's how it was that the public saw Diane Le Mar, lovely and trembling, attend the premiere of her first starring picture on the arm of her leading man, Paul Nevin. With five thousand gaping stenographers hanging on the ropes. And three daring young men on tele¬ phone poles. And three thousand dollars worth of sun arcs cutting the sky to ribbons. With her big, gentle, kind husband lost in the crowd. And that's why, when the radio announcer said: "It is my great honor to present Miss Le Mar, herself . ." Diane fluttered her eyelashes and made big eyes exactly as she had seen other stars do before her, and said, "Thank you so much. I do hope you like my picture." "Charming," said the public. "Money in the box office," said Stelling. "If I can play with her, I'm made," said Paul. Illustrated by GEORGE MITCHELL But Cal said nothing at all. Next morning he picked up the paper and happened on Miss Miller's write-up— The star's husband inherited twenty-five thousand acres from his father. "My gosh," said Cal. "Read this. Where do you sup¬ pose she got that rot?" "I gave it to her,''.said Diane, "and she exaggerated it." Cal only laughed. "You forgot to tell her that I am an authority on the private life of cows." He stayed three days. On the fourth she found his note on her dressing-table: "The air is too rarefied. I'm going back to my books and my dogs. Cal." She knew then she hadn't pulled the wool over his eyes. He had gone because he knew he was in the way, because she wanted him to go. "I've just outgrown him," she said. "Poor Cal." Underneath, she was so relieved that she almost cried. C.AL didn't come again that winter. He wrote often and wired on holidays. His letters were brief and kindly. He never asked questions or exhibited any great interest in what Diane called her "career." Sometimes Diane wrote him. She penned small notes on her own paper with its large gilded monogram, using the same jagged handwriting that you could see in almost any window of the best Hollywood shops on large photo¬ graphs of herself. At Christmas Cal sent a box of tiny yellow violets packed in moss. But there were always so many flowers, from Paul Nevin and others, that she scarcely noticed them. She moved gracefully back and forth from one type to another, according to her roles. Stelling despised wigs, so she dyed her hair, then bleached it, then dyed it When she was a brunette, she wore white fur coats and tiny, white hats, and very much scarlet lipstick. When she was a blonde, she dyed her eyelashes and eye¬ brows black and wore black fur coats, tiny black hats, and the inevitable white gardenias. When you saw her, you didn't say, "What a beautiful woman!" You said, "Oh, look, there's a movie star!" because everything she wore was designed to be stared upon. She progressed. She progressed from the lavender brougham with the baby-blue trim to an equally huge Rolls-Royce, very black and very conservative. When she attended a premiere—she always made it plain she would much rather be home in bed, since all the stars said that—Patrick would race that Rolls-Royce up to the marquee, coming to a quick stop, and out would step Diane in her ermines, a picture of frozen sweetness. When Stelling sent some of his stars to the opening of a new garage, he did not include Diane. She had pro¬ gressed beyond that. When Stelling sent a different star each night to ride down the street with Santa Claus for the benefit of the merchants' association, he did not send l.er. She had progressed beyond that, (Turn to page 41) It was Cal—looking big and comfortable. "Hello," he said, "I figured you might need me" 18 19 3 2 DELINEATOR A LITTLE CAP FOR ANGEL JuANITA sang as she swept the dirt floor. She had sixteen years and she had a lover. She had' almost nothing else. Her clothing was ragged, her food was black coffee and frijoles, her bed was a pallet which she shared with the other Pinon children and her home was a hut in the "little parish of the beggars." But Juanita didn't care, she had great happiness. It flushed her brown cheeks, lighted her black eyes and sent forth a song from her prodigal lips. Pedro ioved her and soon she would have everything. Juan, Salvador, Trinidad—they had all tried to kiss her but she had fought them with fierce little nails. She had long before decided that no man would ever love her. It was Paz,' her mother, who had fostered the resolve. There were seven little PinOns, all of them ragged and hungry. At one time there had been a father—Juanita could recall him vaguely. He had laughed noisily in the nights, waking her and making her hide under the covers in fear. He had slept through the days, while Juanita . lugged the heavy baby about. Then one day he had dis¬ appeared. Her mother had wept bitterly at first, but life went on about the same in the little hut. There were days when they had enough to eat and days when they were hungry; there was only one difference, there were no more babies. Juanita had commented upon this to Paz and her mother had explained it with a heavy sigh: "That is what happened when you have married, men by ANNA BRAND How well the author knows these simple Mexicans about whom she writes so movingly What law could this baby have broken? He was but two weeks old beat you much, kiss you a little and you have babies— Ay Dios! how they do come! I know only one woman who has escaped it—old Sarita, who talks to herself. Do not marry, Juanita, if you do not want it." Firmly Juanita resolved she would never marry. It was far better that she become like old Sarita. But that was before Pedro had kissed her and she had found great happiness. He had not seized her with rough hands and bold lips; he had taken her with soft possession and eyes that pleaded. And it was marriage that Juanita shunned with superstitious fear, not Pedro. When Pedro had first talked of marriage she had thrust him away in agitation. They would be very poor, there would be many babies and some day he might leave her—that was marriage, Paz had told her so. And she had eyes that she could see for herself the sorrows of the women who had married. Why couldn't they be simply happy? Pedro shook his head, he was wiser than Juanita. It was the poverty that made the sorrows. Food enough . for one person was hunger for tw'o and starvation for four. He would earn a lot of money, then they could be married and Juanita would see that with luxury it would be different. She listened, unconvinced. "How can you get so much money?" she questioned. "I will get the night job," he said in a whisper. She stared at him with wide, frightened eyes. There were a few men in the little parish who had the night job Illustrated by MARGARET harper —strange work which must be accomplished at those times when the moon did not shine on the Rio Grande and burlap sacks with gurgling contents could be carried across the river with less danger of interruption. Always these men were watched by the parish in expectant awe. Sometimes they appeared on the street, bandaged and with haggard faces. And again, in the dead of night, it would be a wild-eyed woman who would run for Padre Dominguez. In the end, Juanita and Pedro compromised. For a few weeks only, Pedro would work at the night job, taking extra precautions for his safety. He would wear his scapulars, his relic of Saint Anthony, and Juanita would pray for his deliverance. If by that time they could accumulate enough wealth to allay her fears they would be married, but for the present they -would con¬ tinue to be simply happy. Each night Juanita slipped from the little hut, and went down to the river where she waited for an hour in the black shadows of the trees. She could not see Pedro, she could only hear the faint clank of the sacks as he lowered them to the ground and the whispers of the men who received them. When it was all done and she could breathe' again, Pedro found her, and together they counted the money. Madre de Dios! but there was much of it! A hundred dollars -was the sum they had decided upon and Pedro was right, it would not take them long to achieve it. {Turn to page 46) 19 DELINEATOR OCTOBER WHATEVER LOVE by R< IS BERT W. CHAMBERS "Darling," said Connie, "this will hurt. But Clyde said something awful about The dazzling new novel of a girl who scoffed at love, or whatever it is, until she herself fell in love profoundly and irrevocably. By an author who has written such famous romances as "The Restless Sex" and "The Common Law" A RUNAWAY HORSE left her alone in the desert —Lady Grey-Spinner who had always had her own way. She was rich and young and viva¬ ciously beautiful. As Ursula Wvchwood she had married Lord Grey-Spinner impetuously— and a moment later, regretted it. So she waved him good¬ bye on the City Hall steps, and departed luxuriously for Nevada—still her own master, still untamed . . . But now, a mere speck in all this immensity, suddenly she sensed that life can mean loneliness and defeat. When John Vyning, in a rattletrap car, happened to find her, her gaiety, the instant charm he held for her did not completely bring again her old assurance. Who was this quiet John Vyning who so strangely stirred a heartless youngster? There was a mystery about him, though his place in the scheme of things was simple to explain: wounded in the war; now in Nevada partly for his health, partly to develop a gorgeous play¬ ground for the rich—Steamboat Springs—in which he was endeavoring to interest a group of wealthy friends, backers of a national combine known as Casino Corpo¬ rations. Ursula instantly adored him. She lured him to tea with her, coaxed him to take her out to dinner. Her guttersnipe chatter bored him. She sensed his indiffer¬ ence. ''Shall I plav countess?" she asked. "Yes," he told her—and to his surprise he found himself really in¬ terested in the quiet, intelligent young woman who was suddenly his companion. Here the story continues: No WORD in regard to Steamboat Springs came to John Vyning from Ranald Allaire, who was dabbling with the idea of backing this expensive venture. A letter from Vyning's young brother in New York, Vincent Vyning, bearing an air mail stamp, spoke vaguely of glorious schemes and of millions. His callow cynicisms, enthusi¬ asms, and general incoherence left John Vyning a prey to increasing uneasiness. Eastern newspapers, by air mail, reported the arrival in New York of his whole group of possible backers—Judge Fidelius Richburn, Major General Cadwallader Goats- ford, and Mr. and Mrs. Ranald Allaire; noted their ap¬ pearance at the opera; described Nonnie Allaire's gown and jewels. The Allaires occupied the box of Paul von Scarf, the new dictator of the Metropolitan; and, to that box, during the colorful evening, came every man of social distinction present. And Nonnie Allaire was all things to all men. She held her narrow, Grecian head high as though already the supreme social diadem rested lightly upon that golden hair. Anyway, those were the fulsome words of his young brother, Vincent, concerning a reigning social goddess. The letter ran on: Grey-Spinner was there, sprawling in the Goatsford box, monocled, bored, supercilious. He's a terrible Englishman, and everybody squirms at his tactless British manners. But I'll say he's a right 'un to have with Casino Corporations, whatever he may t hink of us and of our United States. By the way, I hear that Grev-Spinner's Ex—or, rather, his Ex-to-be—is out there in your fair city; and Ranald says you know her. Is she really sucha such? I never met Ursula Wychwood, but I know a lot of people who have met her. When she left school and ambled home, she sure gave New York the works! Did you know that Nonnie and Ranald threw her first party for her? Some party! And no booze! And every deb and ten-cent sheik plastered before one! What a chukker that schoolgirl pulled! And now she's put old Spinny on the spot! Look out she doesn't take you for a ride! The gay, youthful irreverence of these fraternal letters gave John Vyning, in his exile, his only comfort. And he was very careful about what he wrote to Vincent in reply, lest any hint of elder brother domination tamper with the frank confidence of their relations. One November day, as he passed through the hotel lobby to mail a letter, he heard a sudden stirring and general exclamation: "Hello, Jim! Hey, thar, old timer! How're they rolling, Jim?"—and similar familiarities emitted spontaneously by mining men, sheep-men, cattle¬ men, drummers, hotel employees, and desert-rats alike. The ovation was for Jim Dashwood, local magnate, courted financially and politically throughout the state. Mr. Dashwood" acknowledged the usual acclamations with a nod; and, leaning over the cigar counter, applied a long, pallid cheroot to a burning alcohol jet. To everybody in the Far West, high or humble, Mr. Dashwood was "Jim." He never shook hands with any¬ body. Maybe because he wore two guns. But he never ignored anybody, either. Men came to confer with him—sometimes several at a time. When he was through with them they knew it im¬ mediately and went away. Some whispered in his small, fat close-set ears; some showed him thumbed documents and dirty, tattered plans; some merely stopped to spit sociably with him or pay other friendly tributes to liberty, equality, and fraternity. Light grayish eyes in a square, shaven face which desert winds had weathered a brick red; a stocky figure; stubby fingers; this was Jim Dashwood. And a knife-edge mouth, always shut. HAPPENING to look up from a penciled map of some copper claims which a desert-rat had offered him, he saw John Vyning buying air mail stamps. "Hello, Jack," he said in his pleasant voice, handing back the dirty scrap of paper to the rat, who understood and shuffled away. "Hello, Jim," replied Vyning, paying for the stamps and sticking one on a letter to Vincent. "How're they coming?" inquired Dashwood, removing his smoldering cheroot from his expressionless lips. "Fixed it up with Horrie Faul about Steamboat?" Vyning mailed his letter, turned and walked slowly back toward the cigar counter. "No," said he, "I haven't fixed it up; and you know it. "Ain't interested?" "It's a big undertaking." "Ain't you out for big things?" "Everybody is." "Well?" insisted Dashwood. 20 19 3 2 DELINEATOR John Vyning." Ursula's face went white. "It's a lie," she whispered, "whatever he said" Illustration by SCHABELITZ "I've had nothing from my people," said Vyning. "They were here last week, I hear," remarked Dash- wood. "Some of them were." "Yeah, the big shots. In Richburn's private car. Did you pull it on 'em?" Vyning nodded. "Yeah," said Dashwood, "I heard so. Couldn't stick 'em up." \ yning shrugged. "Horace Faul's options expire next month, I understand." "That's right." "I don't believe I could swing anything in a month's time," said Vyning. Dashwood replaced his cheroot and smoked in silence. "I suppose," continued Vyning, "somebody will re¬ vive that steam-heating scheme from the natural steam there, unless I take over the place." "Yeah." After another interval of smoking silence: "Jim," said Vyning, "how much do you figure it would take to build and operate such a unit of Casino Corporations as I once outlined to you for Steamboat Springs?" "About fifteen million . . . What's your figure?" "About that . . . And it's a head-or-tail, guess-which- card proposition." "Everything is," remarked Dashwood. "That's why I made gambling a profession in this age of amateur suckers. Nick or be nicked!" Vyning smiled. Dashwood's string of gambling re¬ sorts, alone, gave him a huge income. "Well, we'll see," murmured Vyning; "I may get a break some day." "Anything I can do?" asked Dashwood pleasantly. "That's kind. But there isn't anything-" "Want me to renew the Faul options?" "I wouldn't ask that!" "You didn't. It's up to you." "But if nothing should come of it, and if the steam heating outfit-" "To hell with them. Go on and take your time." Vyning went out into the street, smiling; boarded his dusty car; ran down to the fur warehouse near the rail¬ road tracks, to talk to a government hunter about some coyote pelts for a robe which Vincent wanted. Then, with his twenty-gauge gun, and a box of lunch on the seat behind him, he steered away along a fine concrete road. The road runs around the widely spread and billowy skirts of Mount Rose where she sits lofty and lovely in her cap and kirtle of dazzling snow. Beyond the suburbs the perfect road stretched away between deeply ditched fields, a fenced farm or two, hidden in cottonwoods, miles of sage-brush, and here and there a reedy swamp. Toward these latter evil-looking bogs he peered in¬ tently, hoping to discover jack-snipe. For he meant to shoot a few on his return that way. About a m'le this side of Steamboat Springs a car be¬ hind warned him melodiously, and whizzed by. But before it had sped a hundred yards he saw the chauffeur's arm flung out in signal; saw the car stop, wait¬ ing, and a white-gloved hand waving from a window. His rickety flivver drew up beside the limousine and halted; and he exchanged amiable greetings with Lady Grey-Spinner. "Where are you going?" she inquired naively. "Only as far as Steamboat. And you?" "Oh, I'm just driving. I'm sunk!" "Sunk?" he repeated. "Scuttled! Emmie Whelan arrived for the cure the other day. She threw a party last night. She would!" "You look as fresh as—— "Oh, yeah? Well, I feel like one of those Chinese duck eggs . . . What are you doing with that gun; chasing the poor Paiutes again. More maidens, Mr. Vyning?" They laughed. "Shall I send you a few little snipe to roast on toast?" he asked. She leaned wanly on the sill of the open window and surveyed him, his battered car, his gun, the packages of shells and of lunch. "Take me shooting with you?" she suggested. He said: "I can't imagine you leaving that luxurious car to go snipe-shooting in a bog with me." "Yours is a poor imagination, John Vyning. But I'll fix it . . ." She spoke through the speaking tube to her chauffeur. The next instant the other man left the box and Lady Grey-Spinner sprang out and laid her gloved hand on the door of the rusty Ford. She had pulled it open before anybody could do it for her, and was already cuddled beside Vyning, and hauling the Navaho blanket up around her, talking all the time. "You haven't a date, have you!" she inquired, inter¬ rupting her chatter. "I don't want to cut in on some pretty Paiute girl!" Her own car already was speeding away to find a turning. He accepted the situation. "There are some toast and bacon sandwiches," he said, "and two cold bananas." "Wonderful," she cooed with that heavenly, childlike smile he remembered. It WAS not very far to Steamboat. And there they got out, accepted tw r o glasses and pepper and salt shakers from the old man in the bath shacks; and started for the spring. Chicken-soup Spring boiled up steaming within a foot or two of the rapid trout brook. Out of this grassy tureen Vyning dipped two glasses of boiling water, and salted and peppered them; and they sat down on the warm green grass to sip what tasted exactly like delicious chicken bouillon. "Think," said Vyning, "what an item could be saved in the overhead of any inn built here." "So this is your El Dorado, is it?" He nodded. "But I'm ahead of my time, Lady Grey- Spinner. Somebody, of course, will do it some day. Not I." "Why not?" "Old Man Misery stalks the world. {Turn to page 76) 21 DELINEATOR OCTOBER NOW is the TIME for all GOOD WOMEN THE REPUBLICANS by MAXINE DAVIS T HE electorate, like a mother with a sick child, does not want to call in a new doctor unless she is sure the family physician is incapable of handling the case. No new specialist, be he ever so superior, has the knowledge of the case and the sympathy of the old family friend. The women of the American electorate are facing just such a decision. Their baby, the nation, is ill. They will go to the polls next month either to retain the Republican practitioner, or to call in new treatment from Dr. Democratic Party. The condition is critical. They must not be influenced by the facile cries of, "It can't be worse and it might be better . . . Let's change"—or with the cliches of the "Don't change horses" variety. Instead they had best review -the capabilities of the present physician and weigh them well against those of a new one. They must know, first of all, what is in the Republican medicine case. What pills will the Grand Old Party administrate as a cure-all? Ah, there they are—conservatism and paternalism, all tightly corked up in Mr. Herbert Hoover. The reason for the conservatism pill is that people in a depression do not want to experiment unless they are completely down and out. They have, to deter them, the expensive fiascos of such European experiments as the communistic Socialism of Austria, with its intensive efforts for humanity but not one thought for budgets; the early and disastrous mistakes of the Social Democratic Government in Germany; the bugaboo of Russia. They are influenced by the swing to conservatism in England, and the tenacious French hold on the old ways. How often do we hear that this crisis is a crisis of confidence? When men and women are afraid, they cling to their familiar remedies: in this case their gold standards, their established formulas of domestic and foreign pro¬ cedure. As long as the child lives, though its tempera¬ ture may soar, the mother wants neither a major opera¬ tion nor a new doctor until she is convinced that without a chance or a change her-babe cannot survive the crisis. When all is said and done, the President is the only man from whom any remedial measures have originated. In the panics of other years men, such as old J. P. Morgan in 1907, rose to meet the emergency with constructive ideas. Thus far Herbert Hoover is the one man within or without the Federal Government who has offered and effected genuinely practical legislation. These measures are symptomatic of Hoover's paternal¬ ism. The bankers' credit pool, followed by the Recon¬ struction Finance Corporation and the Glass-Steagall bill; the Farm Loan Act, passed before the depression became acute; and the increase in railroad rates to raise money for the railroad pool to aid weak roads, engineered through the Interstate Commerce Commission; a program of reduction in the cost of government, as well as co¬ operation with Congress in effecting further economies; "Let's have two intelligent women write about the political parties," we decided. "Without buncombe, without high phrases. Too often politics are befogged by promises" Herbert Hoover, and Curtis, offer our country conservatism and paternalism and the moratorium on intergovernmental debts. These are the outstanding results of the President's efforts. They are not negligible. Re-election would be ratification by the people. Mr. Hoover came into office a staunch individualist. In four years he has seen the breakdown of his economic philosophy by which men and corporations control them¬ selves. It failed to survive the hard times. He realizes the resultant problems are nationwide and not held within the boundaries of the individual states. Consequently Mr. Hoover apparently now believes that when a man in Lincoln, Nebraska, is dependent for his job upon a cor¬ poration in New York, the solution lies in the hands of the Federal Government. When the public too realizes this situation, you often hear knots of befuddled citizens agreeing that "What we need is a dictator." ACTUALLY, we elected a dictator in Mr. Hoover. He was Caesar during his previous careers: while amassing a fortune in business; during the Belgian relief work; as Food Administrator in wartime; as organizer and director of the American Relief Association; and as Secretary of Commerce. He pushed a button, issued an order, and his will was done. Why did this man change—as change he has—in the White House? Why did his cornerstone qualities, the ability to diagnose a situation, make a decision and then stand by it, disappear in the harrowing hours during the past four years? The reason is obvious. Herbert Hoover has always ridden the fast horse, which responded to him alone. When he entered the Executive Mansion he was halted with the double check of Congress and the Supreme Court. Politicians got in his way. He did not know how to get around them. In his dodging he signed the Hawley- Smoot tariff—a bill contrary to his campaign pledges against a general increase in schedules—and was jockeyed into a one-year moratorium when he originally demanded a two-year extension. Part of the public was disappointed but not desper¬ ate. It took confidence from Sir Arthur Salter's "It is the second effort, after the first has brought disappointment, that tests the quality of a man . . ." Hoover is convinced of that wisdom too. He believes that with no need to placate the politicians for another four years in office, he can think for and appeal to the people. The President has failed to gain public sympathy in the worst years since the Civil War. Perhaps because he completely lacks the Bamum instinct. Coolidge had it. with his dramatized taciturnity. Even the remote Mellon was the Magnificent Esthete. We do not see Hoover as the engineer in overalls, toiling with the national ma¬ chinery, simply because this is not his picture of himself. He seems to lack the human touch and his efforts to achieve it have not been altogether successful. Many sensed a mechanical gesture when the boy hero of a Western blizzard was invited to the White House. Hence his first-aid methods, aimed as they are to help banks and industry, are translated as care for the corporate, not the human interests. It is easy to admire a President trying to find bread for the starving; it requires keen interpre¬ tation to explain that Hoover has directed his energy to finding the starving a way to earn (Turn to page SI) "Love interest": Hurley —and his beautiful wife "Dignity": Mrs. Hoover "Loyalty": Dolly Gann "Tact": Everett Sanders 22 19 3 2 DELINEATOR to COME to the AID of THEIR PARTY ★ by Hence, the two articles! For years Maxine Davis conducted her own newspaper service in Washington. Grace Hegger Lewis is known to all as the author of "Half a Loaf' intended that it should be candid and clear and not clouded by long-winded ambiguities to, catch votes. There is not space in this article to print the complete platform, short as it is, but I pray the woman voter who has not already clipped it out of her newspaper when it appeared, way back last June, to go to her local Demo¬ cratic Club and ask for a copy and if she is in doubt of certain clauses to have them explained to her—and not necessarily by her husband! Franklin D. Roosevelt's political star, and Garner's, is Progressive Democracy INE HUNDRED AND FORTY-FIVE votes for Roosevelt!" "For who?'' asked the middle-aged woman who for some time had been leaning on the out¬ side of the rail which enclosed the press gallery. She was apparently taking the deepest interest in the final ballot¬ ing to nominate a Democratic President. Was it possible to be so dumb? Yes, it was. I didn't feel much brighter myself after a week on the other side of the rail, where I had been wearing—-waking and almost sleeping—-a badge for the first time in my life. This badge was inscribed "Active Press,'' and I was attending my first Convention. Although I did know that Franklin Delano Roosevelt had been nominated by a large ma¬ jority, I still could not see why it was necessary to pull off a Mardi Gras to do it. The newspaper men and women amongst whom I sat told me not to take the absurdities too much to heart, it was part of the game—the "milling about" of the delegates and alternates who were con¬ stantly being sent back to their chairs like naughty school children, by the pounding of a gavel; the delays in de¬ cisions caused by flatting brass bands and movie organ sonorities playing the theme songs of the candidates; the boos and "ride-em cowboy" yells of the gallery; the applause which followed each meaningless patriotic cliche; the parades of the states in paper hats and noise- machines and carrying brooms and sunflowers and even slim young ladies on their shoulders; the summer light¬ ning of the photo flash bulbs which respected no one, not even sleeping dignitaries during the third-degree of an all-night session. Also the vaudeville show of Will Rogers and Amos 'n' Andy on the platform where later a Presi¬ dent of the United States was solemnly to be nominated. The press told me that the real work was done by trained politicians outside the Convention hall. Then why not a dignified debate by these trained politicians, by statesmen who knew the science and history of economics, instead of turning the Convention into a gi¬ gantic and appallingly expensive picnic? Why all this waste of time and money when at the very doors of the Chicago stadium the picnickers had daily to pass hun¬ dreds of jobless men who hung about, idly staring, be¬ cause they had nothing better to do? Surely now, if ever, was the time for America to cease being a juvenile nation, to grow up and take her place among other nations quite as muddled and distressed as we and without our re¬ sources and great vitality! My APOLOGY for the foregoing explosive intrusion of my personal reaction to my first Convention is that I fancy it was the same as would be that of the average woman voter who wants to use her vote wisely this No¬ vember. We all know President Hoover's bright red prosperity balloon lies on the earth; a pricked and wrinkled bit of rubber. We all know that we don't want more balloons, even though they are of a different color. The woman at home who did not come to the Convention, as well as the one who did, wants something solid to stand on, and what is better for standing on than a good platform? That the Democratic party has to offer her. Democrats, non¬ partisans, and a large number of disillusioned Republi¬ cans all admit that it is the best platform written in twenty years. Some say it is so good that it would carry any ticket, regardless of the men chosen. It is brief— fourteen hundred words as compared with the nine thousand of the Republican platform. And it is honestly She will know from everlasting hearsay that the main issue in this campaign, regardless of increasing unem¬ ployment and the still existing governmental stupidities started after the World War, is prohibition repeal, and how wet that repeal is going to be. She will know that the Re¬ publicans have straddled the issue and that the Demo¬ crats have come straight out with, "We favor the repeal of the Eighteenth Amendment." In the final clause of the Democratic repeal plank she can read: "Pending the repeal, we favor immediate modification of the Volstead act to legalize the manufacture and sale of beer and other beverages of such alcoholic content as is permissible under the Constitution and to provide therefrom a proper and needed revenue." And she must realize that there lies one swift and popular means of balancing our national budget. That women, rich and poor, under the guidance of Mrs. Charles Sabin and the Women's Organization for Na¬ tional Prohibition Reform, have had a tremendous in¬ fluence in forcing both parties to recognize the evils of prohibition, should be a deciding factor in the woman's vote this year. Women won prohibition and now women —at least one million signed members of this organi¬ zation—see it as a hideous victory. Things can't be worse; repeal may make things better. No one knows. There isn't a single prophet alive today. Other welcome details in the platform are a drastic economy in government administration, with such definite wording as "A saving of not less than a twenty- five per cent cut in expenditures"; sound currency to be preserved at all hazards; a better protection of labor and the small producer and distributor; a simplification of legal procedure and reorganization of the judicial system to make the attainment of justice speedy, certain, and at less cost; unemployment and old age insurance under state laws . . . One of the dramatic incidences of the Convention was the passage from the floor of the resolution of Mrs. Caro¬ line O'Day, committeewoman from New York. It read: "We advocate continuous responsibility of government for human welfare, especially for the protection of chil¬ dren." All such references as the above had been left out of the platform, and women delegates from many states rushed to the headquarters of (Turn to page 71) THE DEMOCRATS GRACE HEGGER LEWIS DELINEATOR OCTOBER West wall: balanced group of bookcase, side chairs Detail of wallpaper The soft-toned rug provides a good background for the decoration of this room Of fine traditional flavor is the design of this mantel THIS LOVELY ROOM IS A HOUSE IN ITSELF! Delineator is proud to present this one- room apartment: living room, dining room, bedroom, all at moderate cost W E USED to think of a one-room apartment as a rather bizarre affair ... a mongrel room . . . informal to the point of being "arty" . . . full, too full, of nondescript furnishings ... a room of little real beauty and less comfort... a room neither fish nor fowl nor good red herring. But other days have brought other ways, and now, when our problem is to mold one room to our heart's desire, we are realizing more and more that it is wise to create a room which will be not only beautiful but which will have a certain dignity, an easy grace and poise, an inclination toward formality, albeit always a friendly formality. The room that is to be a twenty-four-hours- a-day room must be an unfailingly pleasant and happy companion to our daily needs. This room that we have built this month is such a room. It is a symphony with three predominating chords: the living room unit; the bedroom unit; the din¬ ing room unit. And our ideal has been to combine these chords so perfectly, so exquisitely, that there will be no jarring note. (You will see photographs of the bedroom and dining room aspects of this apartment on page 26.) Where so much living is to be lived, there must be harmony. The room must be "at rest." And harmony, restfulness, good taste, beauty, can be captured only if we first have in our minds a definite plan, and only if we most thoroughly and carefully scrutinize every detail that we plan to put into the room so that we are abso¬ lutely certain that it is just right. There must be no hit- or-miss quality about such a room. The smaller the space we work with, the more personal and particular must be our study and care and ingenuity. Naturally the background quality of such a room—the wall treatment and the floor treatment—is of supreme importance. Ideally, this quality, in a room of this kind, should be subdued, "but not subdued to the point where it lacks interest, becomes characterless, dull, monotonous. On one side of the room, the south wall, we sought to achieve a perfect combination of beauty, gracious use¬ fulness, and effective compactness. In the center we built a generous-sized window group. The space below this we used for the radiators, concealed by simple, in¬ conspicuous grilles. On both sides of the windows we built bookcases, and under both we provided deep, spacious cupboards to store the accessories for the bed and dining table. The lower part of the bookcase on the right is transformed into an excellent desk. The sturdy drop-shelf, which forms the desk-leaf, is most firmly sup¬ ported by extra strong stay joints. To carry out a similar architectural interest on the other three walls, we built a dado with a chair rail. As a balance to the window-group on the south wall, we built the fireplace on the north wall, with a mantel of fine traditional flavor. Next came the choosing of the kind of paint that we were to use. In the building of our rooms at Delineator we have, naturally, done a great deal of research with paints of different kinds. The paint we used here is "Wallhide," the paint about which we have told you before—for we are vastly enthusiastic about the way it "goes on," about the quality it has that prevents it from cracking, about the fact that it is most economical to use. Dawn-gray was the soft, liveable-with shade of paint that we chose for the general color of the room, for the walls, doors, mantel, and trim. In harmony with this we ainted the book-shelves, inside and trim, a pleasant orizon-blue. But we didn't want the walls of this room to have the usual treatment of painted walls. So, for the walls above the dado on the sides of the fireplace (the wall space which we realized would most frequently be the center of interest) we chose a scenic wallpaper, "La Cdte de Villefranche." This wallpaper is a reproduc¬ tion of a lovely old wallpaper depicting a peaceful medieval scene on a happy shore, with the restful quality of water and picturesque islands in the background. We treated this scenic wallpaper as it should be treated— as though it were a painting. And we felt that we could indulge in its beauty since the important decorative treatment of this wall meant that we need do no budget¬ ing for pictures for this wall and little for the other walls. For the room that is to see so much living, and in all seasons, linoleum is a perfect floor-covering. Linoleum of such an inconspicuous patterning that there is no prob¬ lem about combining with it any other patterns that may be used in the room. We chose a straight-line, in¬ laid linoleum in softly blending tones of maroon, tan, and dark grays. The Wilton rug we used is a marvel in its adaptation for this kind of room as well as for {Turn to page 43) 24 19 3 2 DELINEATOR The combination couch-bed, slip-covered in the same chintz used for draperies Another view, without rug, showing the linoleum of good background pattern Most companionable is this radio grouping. Below: lounge chairs and occasional chair Between meals the friendly dining room group assumes its living room personality These lounge chairs—simple, dignified, comfortable—create a friendly grouping DELINE AT OR INSTITUTE OF INTERIOR DECORATION JOSEPH B. PLATT, Director 25 DELINEATOR AMERICA'S SMARTEST WOMAN'S MAGAZINE OCTOBER The one-room apartment (on pages 24 and 25 ) photographed in action, as living room, dining room, and bedroom ACKNOWLEDGMENT is gratefully made to the following firms for their courtesy and cooperation: The Background: Construction units used in this month's room are Silentite Pre-Fit windows, doors, mantel, and trim, Curtis Companies, Inc., Manufacturers of Curtis Woodwork, Clinton, Iowa. • The wall paint used is Wallhide, the "Vitolized Oil" Wall Paint; Horizon Blue for book-shelves and Dawn Gray for doors, mantel, and trim, Pittsburgh Plate Glass Company, Milwaukee, Wisconsin and Newark, New Jersey. • French scenic wallpaper (La dote de Villefranche), Richard E. Thibaut, Inc., New York. • Straight- Line Inlaid Linoleum, Armstrong Cork Company, Lancaster, Pennsylvania. • Whittall Palmer Wilton Rug, M. J. Whittall Associates Ltd., Worcester, Massachusetts. • Ozite Rug Cushion, Clinton Carpet Company, Chicago. The Draperies: Drapery hardware, Kirsch Company, Sturgis, Michigan. • Bontex window shades, Columbus Coated Fabrics Corporation, Columbus, Ohio. • Material for glass curtains of "Virginia Gauze"; overdraperies and slip cover for lounge of "English Chintz," Waverly Fabrics, a Schumacher Unit, New York. The Mechanical Equipment: Arco radiators and Arco radiator enclosures, American Radiator Company, New York. • Con¬ sole radio ( Convention Model), General Electric Company, Bridgeport, Con¬ necticut. • Electric Strike Clock {Middleton Model), Seth Thomas Clock phone & Telegraph Company and Associated Companies in the Bell System. • Curtis LightStrip, Curtis Lighting, Inc., Chicago and New York. • Magiclog Electric Fire, andirons, fire tools, and screen, H. A. Bame, New York. The Furniture: Dresser base, side chairs, coffee table, end tables, and dumb waiter, Baker Furniture Factories, Allegan, Michigan. • Book¬ case from "Milling Road Shop" by Baker Furniture Factories, Allegan, Michigan. • The four qomfortable lounge chairs and occasional chair, Kroehler Manufacturing Company, Chicago. • Living room table, pie crust table, and occasional table, The Mersman Brothers Corporation, Celina, Ohio. • Rome "Chesterfield" (living room lounge and double bed combined). The Rome Company, Inc., Chicago and New York. The Equipment for Bed: Queen Louise White Goose Feather Pillows, The P. R. Mitchell Company, New York. • Cannon sheets and pillow-cases {Cavalier), Cannon Mills, Inc., New York. • Chatham blanket (Norfolk), Chatham Manufac¬ turing Company, Winston-Salem, North Carolina. • Comfortable (Rotneo Pattern), The Palmer Brothers Company, New London, Connecticut. • Blanket cover, Maison de Linge, New York. The Table Equipment: Table cloth and napkins (Rustic Weave), Linens, Limited, New York. • Silverplated flatware and hollowware ( Guild Pattern), Wm. Rogers and Son, International Silver Company, Meriden, Connecticut. • Glass, A. H. Heisey and Company, Newark, Ohio. • Italian Pottery plates, and china after-dinner coffee cups (Cortona), Black Knight, New York. • Candles, Waxels; Will and Baumer Candle Company, Inc., Syracuse, New York. • Roylace paper doilies, The Royal Lace Paper Works, Inc., Brooklyn, New York. The Accessories: Black and white engraving, Arthur Ackermann table lamps and shades, figurines, Dresden vases, china cigaret boxes and ash trays, Pitt Petri, Importer, Waldorf-Astoria Hotel, New York. • Bridge lamp and shade. The Miller Company, Meriden, Connecticut. • Wall brackets, Collins and Wagner Manufacturing Company, New York. • Crystal candelabra and Waterford cut vases, glass cigaret boxes and ash trays, F. Pavel and Company, New York. • Plaster wall brackets, R. H. Macy, New York. • Desk pen set and Quink, The Parker Pen Company, Janesville, Wisconsin. • Letter-paper holder. The Star Case Company, New York. • Letter-paper, Eaton Paper Company, Pittsfield, Massachusetts. The dining room unit, set with a hospitable welcome to guests. At left of table, a convenient dumb waiter In happy mood is this harmony of pat- After-dinner coffee is leisurely served terns in linen, pottery plates, beauti- on the simple, graceful coffee-table, ful glasses, gracefully designed silver conveniently placed before the couch By day: a smartly-tailored living room lounge, slip-covered in chintz By night: a comfortable double bed, with excellent spring-filled mattress DELINEATOR INSTITUTE OF INTERIOR DECORATION 19 3 2 DELINEATOR By ANN BATCHELDER We jf E'YE come through the summer pretty well, haven't we? And I hope you have had a good time. Writing these highly unoriginal words reminds me of the old "Ready Letter Writers" we used to dig out of the piles of dis¬ carded books in the attic on rainy Saturdays. That was at the period in our lives when we yearned to have a model for our love letters and such. I guess you all have seen these books. There were letters for every occasion, from business to proposals. Nowadays, I presume the business and proposal sections would be together. But in the old "Ready Letter Guides" they were separated by letters of con¬ dolence, epistles appropriate for the absent hus¬ band or wife. (Were wives ever absent in those days?) And letters of congratulations on all such occurrences as birth, marriage and the size of the estate left by an uncle in Australia! Great old books, these. And what models for the young were the letters of Clarissa Harlowe. "I now take pen in hand to tell you I am well and hope you are the same." (Does anvone read Clarissa's epistles and travelogs nowadays?) Well, that's the style of my first sentence regarding your summer. Do vou recognize it? Anyway, the hot days are gone and we are rounding the curve into autumn. In spite of all the excitement of saving the country which we are about to do next month, by one route or the other, there are other things to think of. Things that to me, and I fancy to you, also, are pretty important. We've got to begin to explore in the pantry and do a research job in the kitchen and plan what we are going to cook and eat and take pleasure in doing. Summer is gone. And we did have a sort of nice time, what with cold dishes and cold drinks and long afternoons to be lazy in. And we are going to have more fun cooking this fall than we ever did. For I hope we can get to¬ gether and plan how to dress up the dear old three meals so that they'll be as excitingly differ¬ ent as the new fall frocks. And that means a good time all around, if you ask me. It does seem to me that if we can't have a good time doing our job, we might as well shut up shop and go swimming. I feel, also, that this is the time to put snap and style into the stouter dishes for cool weather. Stylish stouts, I call them, and what that expression brings to mind! You know what I mean! A certain decisiveness in the menu. We are through now, for a while, with the r-ub-deb models. Anyway, for the main course. A good many times I have spoken of steak. There's only one way to cook a steak so it becomes unforgettable—and that is to broil it. No, I'm not speak¬ ing of other than good beefsteak. When I say steak I mean a nice, juicy, well broiled beefsteak, and no mistake about it. But you can do things in the way of presenting your steak to your family and guests that give it a modish air. And one way is to get yourselves a set of the individual hardwood planks that are made for just this dramatic purpose. These small round planks are used exactly as DELINEATOR INSTITUTE are the large ones, for the well-known planked steak. First, I greased the planks and heated them thoroughly in the oven. Having rarely and circumspectly broiled small tenderloin steaks, each one a serving for one person, I set them in the center of the planks. Around each steak I arranged green peas, well seasoned and dressed with butter, having between the mounds of peas, creamy mashed potatoes rosetted on with the pastry tube. Sauted mushrooms and broiled tomatoes were alternated as befitted the scheme, and the planks popped into a hot oven for the rosettes of potato to brown slightly. The steaks were then dressed with a little butter, the planks set on hot plates, and there was a dinner against which I'd pit the efforts of any cook in the land. And does such a dinner have style? Are you asking me? Of course you can go as far as you like in the way of serving sauces and condiments with your steak, and a salad to follow it. I needn't say, I suppose, that a piping hot soup may well begin this meal. And fruit and cheese will end it. And don't forget the coffee—last and maybe best of aU! I don't see why these little planks shouldn't be used to "plank" chops and fish and cutlets, too. And there are any number of vegetables that would add color and decoration to them. Be sure to have the planks well heated before you arrange the food on them. How many of you know what a delicious thing fried hominy is? Needs long cooking, first, in the double boiler. Make it stiff enough to mold and chill in an oblong mold or cake tin. Slice it about one third of an inch thick, dip the slices in flour and fry in a little hot fat in the frying pan or in deep fat—just as you feel like. I prefer deep fat, myself; but you know how I am. Crazy about deep fat frying. I like to do it and to eat the crisp fried things afterwards. And you know it as well as I do, for I've told you often enough! Well, hominy done this way and served with brown or maple sugar and plenty of butter is a swell thing to serve for breakfast or with fried chicken, broiled chicken or any chicken, for that matter. But in the picture you'll see it accompanying the honest and uncompromising pork chop. Pork chops all breaded and fried, and hominy to go with them. Oh, how good they are, brown and well done and tender. And the hominy just per¬ fect. This is a notable combination. Yes, you say, but what's so stylish about it? Well, let me tell you. The perfect touch is (Turn to page 75) 27 DELINEATOR 2 8 Menus- WITH CHEESE If I Know What I Mean W HAT an old trick that one is of pretending to see a silver lining in every cloud. I never thought much of it. People who go around saying, "Oh, it's not so bad," bore me a good deal. Somehow I've come to like a good healthy pessimism. The kind I mean is the kind that looks a diminishing return right in the eye and says, "Well, what are you going to do about it?" My idea is that when you hear the much-publicized wolf trying to find the door-bell, the thing to do is to unloose the wicket and ask him in. There isn't much point in barricading the door with the bureau. It works every time, though, if the wolf suddenly finds himself invited into the parlor. I know. I have entertained several such, in my time. And found them sort of friendly fellows, once we got acquainted. It's just too bad, but does my heart ache for the woman who suddenly discovers—because of a slump in the market—that there's a kitchen in her house and an egg-beater in the kitchen? And a can-opener? Well, not so you'd notice it. The kitchen has been there all the time, but that gal had just ignored it or forgotten it or maybe she didn't know about it. Then one day she meets it eye to eye. And she's got to do a little something about it. One glance at the check-book tells her that. Not to mention the mail on the first of the month. Does she sit down and lean her head on the oven door and weep and bemoan her lot? Not if she's the right sort. She sets about making the wolf very comfortable. She treats him so well that he gets bored to death and plans how he can make a quick getaway. Like Othello he cries, "My occupa¬ tion's gone!" He must be out howling at somebody else's door. He is extremely fed up in more ways than And so one day, when his hostess is upstairs making the beds, this ungrateful beast slips out and is gone. But the right sort of woman has made a great dis¬ covery. She has found that her house is a home. She has learned the strength and comeliness in homely things. She knows, now, that no idling in boudoir and drawing-room is half so wonderful as being mistress of the art of cooking, and no pride of position is comparable to the pride in achievement. And it seems to me that such a woman has the wolf licked and that the exercise has done her a lot of good. Of course the wrong sort of woman will still be hiding under the bed. But I can do nothing about that. This is my idea regarding the good healthy brand of pessimism I spoke of. And that is the brand that knows things aren't so good, maybe, but gets out and does something about it. Lots of good things have come up for air since "the depression" opened its run in our theater. And yet—and yet—I still wake myself up hum¬ ming, "River—stay away from my door." Yes, I'll see you in the lobby—the last night of the show. Qua fheU-r4<^uy. MENUS 1. Luncheon Grapefruit with Rum Nut and Cheese Loaf Rolls Vegetable Salad Frozen Pudding Coffee 2 . Dinner Canapes au Gourmet Clear Tomato Soup Breaded Veal Cutlets Potato Puff Peas Lettuce Hearts Roquefort Dressing Banana Ice Cream Cakes Coffee Supper Clam Broth with Pimiento Ham Mousse in Jelly Hot Rolls Pineapple and Peach Salad Savories Chocolate Cake Coffee For a Party Fruit in Cups with Kirsch Squabs in Casserole Minted Peas Bread Sticks Grilled Mushrooms Pecan and Celery Salad Cheese Tart Coffee RECIPES Nut and Cheese Loaf Mix one cup grated yellow cheese with one cup chopped walnut meats and one cup fine, dr}' bread crumbs. Fry, in one tablespoon butter, a small onion chopped fine. Add one-half cup tomato juice and cook until the onion is soft. Then add the other ingredients, seasoning with salt, pepper and a few drops of tobasco. Tut the mixture into a shallow greased baking dish and brown well in the oven. Serve with tomato sauce poured over the loaf. Potato Puff Prepare three cups of mashed potatoes. Better put them through the ricer. Into the potatoes beat the yolks of two eggs. Add three tablespoons butter and season to taste with salt and pepper. Beat extremely well. Add enough hot milk to make the potatoes very light and creamy. Pile lightly in a baking dish and cover with a meringue made by beating stiff the whites of two eggs, adding one-half cup grated yellow cheese. Dust with paprika. Bake in an oven at 375 0 F. until brown. Canapes au Gourmet This is a hot canape. Take one can of crab meat and flake fine. Blend one cup of thick cream sauce, highly seasoned, with one-half cup cheese. When well blended, add the crab meat. Saute rounds of toast in butter. Heap the crab meat mixture on these. Cover the tops with grated cheese, sprinkle with paprika and set into a hot oven until the cheese melts and the canape "bubbles"—or do them carefully under the broiler. Serve garnished with a little cress and lemon slices. Good for late suppers, also. Cheese Tart Make a rich pastry. Chill, then roll thin and bake in small patty pans. Beat one cup cream cheese with three tablespoons heavy cream. Season slightly with salt and add one tablespoon powdered sugar. Beat thoroughly, and if not creamy enough, add a little more cream, to get a light, fluffy consistency. Partly fill the cooled pastry shells with the cheese mixture, then fill with gooseberry' or currant jam, or any tart-flavored preserve. Serve cold. These make a fine tea-time deli¬ cacy as well as a delicious dessert for supper or for lunch. Easily prepared, too. Savories These are for soup or salad service, or just as an accompaniment to a good beverage. Cut bread in finger shape, having the crusts removed. Spread with a Welsh rarebit mixture or with some creamed snappy cheese. Add paprika. Then put on each finger a slice of bacon and toast under the broiler until the bacon is crisp and the cheese melted. Or, spread rounds of bread with fish or meat paste. Cover with cheese, and toast. Toasted cheese and chutney savories are a varia¬ tion w'orth trying with a fish salad. Delineator Institute OCTOBER, 1932 DELINEATOR SPAGHP A u (TOMATO SAUCE WITH G&* O n, y in Franco-American can you enjoy such flavor Franco-American Spaghetti will surprise and delight you. Surprise you that it is possible to get spaghetti so good, already prepared. Delight you with its delicious flavor, its delicious sauce, its appealing charm and color. Nor is it hard to understand why. Blended by chefs to whom flavor and quality are instinctive. Guided by a favorite old Italian recipe, they combine tender, golden spaghetti with a sauce which is nothing short of per¬ fection. Cheese especially selected for sharpness and zest. Tomatoes gathered in their red-ripe prime. You must taste it. You can't guess how good it is. And actually ready to serve. 10 CENTS A CAN OCTOBER, 1932 DELINEATOR Three girls competed in this Beauty Contest and she who Won had a Lovely Skin When she entered the room , she entered one of life's daily Beauty Contests. The other girls were as smartly gowned • • • as talented. Yet her skin was lovely • • • soft and exquisite as a flower. She won this evening s Beauty Contest! The others lost!" ★ You've often heard it said "Her face is her For¬ tune." What is true of the woman with beautiful features is equally true of the woman with a lovely skin. People look first at your face, and if your skin is fresh and vibrantly alive, you've passed the most important test of beauty. A lovely skin is not entirely the gift of Nature. It may be cultivated • • • with Camay's gentle care. For the first step to an exquisite complexion is deep cleanliness. And Camay's creamy-white, soothing lather helps your skin to breathe again • • • to glow with new life • • • become soft and flower-like. UP WITH QUALITY • • • DOWN WITH PRICE Here's more good news! Camay saves you money. It is priced in line with the times. The Soap of Beautiful Women, that keeps your skin so soft and fresh, saves you at least 20% of the money you spend for beauty soap. Get a dozen cakes of gentle Camay today! If you are a woman, you are in a Beauty Contest every day of your life. You are competing with every woman in your social set • • • with hundreds of women who are strangers to you. With a lovely skin, you can win your Beauty Contest! Let gentle Camay help you! ★ Lather your face well with Camay and warm water. Then rinse with cold water. Now your skin is ready for your make-up , deeply clean and petal-soft again. ★ This is Camay , the soap that keeps your skin in healthy , dean condition. Smartly wrapped in green and yellow , and sealed in Cellophane. Cc w . 1832, Procter & Gamble Co. CAMAY THE SOAP OF BEAUTIFUL WOMEN OCTOBER, 1932 3 1 A NEWSREEL of NUTRITION by DR. ESTHER LORD BATCHELDER Y ES, we still talk about three meals a day, althougn a close examination of many people's breakfasts and other people's luncheons shows that they don't merit the name of meals at all. And after all, "What difference does it make?" they may ask. For some people it does not make much difference. This is especially true of those whose total food require¬ ments are low, such as the stout person who wants to reduce and the sedentary person who uses relatively little energy in work or play. But for many, a good meal at the beginning of the day is very important, especially for children and young people. The, is a whole army of unemployed teeth wanting a chance for more frequent exercise; also many misem¬ ployed stomachs that are forced to receive an ill-assorted collection of food, sometimes freezing cold, other times scalding hot, frequently too much at night and often too little in the morning. It is really too bad, because this mismanagement all too often shows up in our disposi¬ tions or our.complexions or our sick-leaves. Why is it that breakfasts are so neglected? Surely there are unlimited possibilities for delicious breakfasts: fruits of every kind, cereals in wide variety, eggs, bacon, toast, muffins or rolls; coffee to make enjoyment com¬ plete for most grown-ups, and milk, cocoa, malt cocoa or cereal coffee to provide the milk and please the tastes of the children. By the time we have made this incomplete list, the answer is almost unnecessary: "There isn't time." That is the trouble these days. We stay up so late at night that we get up too late in the morning to do much more than dash through the breakfast room in a mad rush to meet the first appointment of the morning. As we have said before, some people may not need much in the morning, especially if they do a little planning so that food essentials are included some time during the day. For children, however, the essentials can practically never be included without a good breakfast. When breakfast is skimped, children cannot eat all they need during the day and it is up to us to foster in their earl}' years habits which insure plenty of time for a nourishing breakfast, good hygiene, and an unhurried start for the day. Breakfast need not be elaborate but we should allow time for eating an adequate amount. Baby Cereal: Since cereal is usually the first solid food given to the baby, it is always of primary interest to the babies' mothers. A new form has now been developed in which a mixture of finely ground whole wheat, hulled oats and added wheat germ is long cooked in milk, and canned. The nutrients of the whole grain have therefore been further enriched, especially in vitamin B and iron, by the use of extra wheat germ. The resulting cereal mix¬ ture, finely ground to make it suitable for baby's delicate digestive tract, has the added value of the milk which was used instead of water in the cooking process. Extensive experiments have shown that milk and whole grain cereals supplement each other in almost every way so that, with the exception of vitamins C and D (which enter the baby's diet in orange juice and cod liver oil or their equivalents), the new cereal represents a well-propor¬ tioned assortment of necessary food factors. It has an excellent flavor and offers the hitherto unavailable con¬ venience of a baby cereal which needs no further cooking but is all ready to warm to the desired feeding tempera- Furthermore, it can be thinned, if desired, with milk or water; the smooth, even consistency is maintained with no lumping or other difficulty when liquid is added. This product, prepared by a pioneer manufacturer of strained vegetables, is another contribution to mother's conveni¬ ence and baby's good health. Fruits: Fruit is one of the most pleasant necessities in a nutritious menu. We have, in other issues of Deline¬ ator, spoken of orange juice and economical ways to ob¬ tain it. There are also other delectable fresh products which will spare the purse of the homemaker and make every member of the family happy. Golden skinned bananas are favorites with the children and bring in each closely wrapped "finger" an abundance of vitamins and minerals to add value to the easily digested calories which they also provide. The other day we found on the mar¬ ket, miniature bananas, called "figanas," only about three inches long, of delightful flavor, which suggested possibilities of salads, meat garnishes, or other uses in which the tiny fruits, whether raw or cooked, would make a picturesque variant from the bigger and more familiar members of the banana family. Apples for the school lunch or for any meal of the day are not to be forgotten, and nowadays they are on the markets practically all seasons of the year. And always, dried apricots, prunes, and peaches form a dependable background of nutritious and economical fruit in which the vitamins have been preserved to a surprising degree and w T hich make excellent contribution to any part of the meal. Fruit twice a day is an excellent rule to keep in mind when planning meals. Bran as a Laxative: Bulk,roughage,fiberandballast are terms commonly applied to that portion of our food which is not digested, provides no nourishment, but acts something like a brush in removing waste matter from our digestive tracts. Of recent years, the replacement of natural foods by refined flour and sugar has, in spite of some increase in fruits and vegetables, reduced the bulk in the average American diet and has probably been an important cause of the present interest in, and doubt¬ less therefore affliction with, constipation. A common and seemingly rational means of controlling this malady has been the use of bran or bran preparations to compensate for the lack of roughage in most of the wheat products used today. Regarded in this light, bran has a natural place in the modem dietary. There has been some question, however, as to the desirability of using large amounts of bran because of its irritating effect under certain conditions of intestinal sensitivity or slug¬ gishness. It is known that some people suffer from in¬ testinal disorders in which indigestible fiber is a hin¬ drance, not a help. We have had little definite knowledge, however, of the actual effect of a fibrous food like bran in the diet of individuals whose elimination is poor but whose health in every other way appears good. If bran is harmless and efficient, it provides a convenient, economi¬ cal, appetizing way to make the diet more laxative. The results of two very careful studies have recently been published: one by Cowgill and Anderson at Yale, and the other by Rose and co-workers at Teachers Col¬ lege. The former study was done on healthy young men, the latter on girls and young women, supplemented by extensive observations on laboratory animals. From both investigations the conclusion can be drawn that bran has a definite laxative effect, due chiefly to its fiber content. The Yale workers conclude also that a definite relation¬ ship exists between the rate of laxation and the amount of fiber in the food. The practical application of their work is made possible by calculations of the amounts of certain common foods which need to be added to a bor¬ der-line diet in order to make it sufficiently laxative. The foods for which such calculations have been made are bran, grapes, peaches, pears, apples, bananas, cabbage, spinach, lettuce, whole wheat, graham and rye breads. In the Teachers College work an expert pathologist ex¬ amined the digestive tracts of rats which had eaten no bran and those which had received graded amounts dur¬ ing a long period. The tissues had suffered no harm and it is concluded that moderate quantities of bran, such as are usual in human consumption, will not damage the tissues of the normal alimentary tract. The studies with animals gave further evidence of the fact, already re¬ ported, that the vitamin B content of bran was also a significant factor when the diet to which it was added contained only small quantities of this vitamin. The Iron Supply: Many aspects of the place of iron in the diet have been studied and reported in recent months. From the point of view of requirement, the study by M. S. Rose and her co-workers at Teachers College has shown that the needs of one child were higher than have been generally estimated and that our standards for iron in the diet of children should be increased. More recently, I.iechsenring and Flor have come to a similar conclusion after studying the iron utilization of four pre-school chil¬ dren. Moreover, in both these investigations, it was found that actual analyses of the food showed a lower iron con¬ tent than would be calculated from the most commonly used figures. Such results emphasize the importance of including iron-rich foods in the diets of young children, both because their need is greater than has heretofore been estimated and because the amount supplied by common foods may be lower than ordinary calculations would indicate. A systematic study of the iron content of vegetables and fruits has recently been published by Stiebeling of the United States Department of Agricul¬ ture. The Bureau of Home Economics has, moreover, listed for popular use some available and economical sources of iron as follows: for breakfast, whole grain cereals, prunes, apricots, whole wheat bread or toast, eggs, molasses; for other meals, additional sources are lean meat (liver, kidney, brain and heart are richest), vegetables (especially greens, beans and peas); among desserts, those made with eggs, apricots, prunes, raisins, molasses; in fruits, blackberries, blue-berries, raspberries. Iodized Salt: Such a simple thing as the kind of salt has made a tremendous difference in the amount of thyroid enlargement observed in school children in Detroit. As a result of a determined effort to overcome iodine deficiency in that city, endemic goiter in school children has decreased from 36 per cent in 1924 to 2.1 per cent in 1931. Dr. Kimball, who directed the first survey, attributes the success of the effort to the cooper¬ ation of state, city, school, and medical authorities with the manufacturers and wholesalers of iodized salt. The cost of iodized table salt was kept the same, and iodized salt was the only kind sold as food in Michigan. Failure to obtain marked improvement during a similar campaign in Cleveland, Ohio, is attributed to lack of cooperation, due chiefly to the hesitancy of the medical profession to endorse the use of iodized salt as a preventive measure. Fortunately, results in Detroit are such as to dispel further fears as to the safety of iodized salt for general consumption. Heretofore there has been some fear that the extra iodine might aggravate another form of thyroid enlargement called hyperthyroidism or toxic goiter. Several Detroit hospitals report a marked decline in hyperthyroidism, however, coincident with the use of iodized salt in Michigan. Delineator Institute DELINEATOR 3 2 The Facts as We Find Them Convenient for the refrigerator: wire baskets for fruit and eggs; flat, capped bottles for water A moisture and flavor test of foods kept in waxed paper, alu¬ minum foil, and other wrappings A sturdy clothes rack that stands in a small space or spreads out to accommodate a sizable washing exists primarily for developing more interesting and more helpful editorial articles We test the merits of black bottom pans, among other things, and find them very efficient "T'LL try it and see." Haven't you often said that about some article of household equipment? You I hope it will be useful and efficient and a ''good buy," X but you can't tell until you have actually bought it and tried it. There are facts about such appliances which you cannot determine without experimenting yourself. Sometimes not even then. So we do it for you. These pages tell you what an article will do, how well it is likely to last, how convenient it is and how easy to care for. Our findings are the result of actual tests and our experi¬ ence is of value to you. Here are some articles which have recently come along for investigation. Black bottom pans, for instance. No, they are not black so they won't show the dirt. The black bottom makes them more efficient. They will start cooking more rapidly than a similar pan, without the black bottom. Our tests showed an increase in efficiency of from five to twenty per cent under varying conditions. But the black bottom is not the only reason for that. They are designed throughout to be so. They have straight sides. One enamel pan has sides sloping in toward the top, giving a broad heating base. They all have tight fitting covers; well-shaped, convenient handles; easy to clean corners; and besides they are most attrac¬ tive to look at. A small clothes rack is another newcomer to the In¬ stitute. It isn't so small in capacity either. We found that it held a great many clothes, enough for a 2-or-3- in-the-family wash. This rack stands very firmly on the floor, and it is rigid and secure throughout. It gives none of the uncertain feeling of a flimsy, wobbly frame. What is most surprising is that it stands securely even when closed. In this position it takes up very little room. It can stand in the bathtub or close to the radia¬ tor, still holding many articles for drying. Its compact¬ ness and its independent standing ability make it most easy to store. It is made of enameled metal. It is very easy to clean and looks extremely well. A boon, particu¬ larly to the apartment dweller, I should say. A scheme to avoid the need of replacing fuses will surely interest you. It is particularly pertinent if you have a new house in mind. With this device, prowling around in some dark corner of the cellar to put in a fuse when one has been blown is a thing of the past. The circuit breaker takes the place of the fuse box. It is placed in the wall of the kitchen, the entry, or other con¬ venient spot. Its trim metal plate with neat trip handles, the part which shows, recommends it to the eye. When a circuit is overloaded one of these handles automatically trips, shutting off the current. When the difficulty is remedied a touch of the finger trips the handle back to position and electric service is restored. There are no fuses to keep track of and above all no journeys to the basement before the trouble can be remedied. We've been using this circuit breaker and we have a warm spot in our hearts for it. HoW about an ironing cord that keeps itself out of the way? Does that sound too good to be true? We have been using one that does just that. It comes pleated almost like a frill. As you iron back and forth the cord stretches, then pulls back into position. It doesn't hang over the edge of the board to wrinkle the clothes you are working with. If the cord is plugged in at a point on the level with, or above the ironing board, it keeps entirely off your working area. You iron along, without paying any attention to the cord. The cord takes care of itself. If you need to turn the current off, as you often do with a non-automatic iron, there is a switch on the plug. You do not have to detach it from the iron. We have just been having a very special cleaning day in some of our Institute rooms. We believe thoroughly in the theory of keeping clean rather than going through periodic spasms of cleanliness, but we find a need for more than a "weekly cleaning" of some of our rooms, now and then. Perhaps this might be termed the monthly cleaning. At any rate it included cleaning ceiling and walls which had become decidedly dusty. These were not surfaces which would lend themselves to soap and water treatment, nor were they really in need of that. In the old days we would have tied one cloth over a broom and another over our heads, and gone at it. A room full of dust, and a protest from any of the family who were about, would have resulted. Instead, being up-to-date housekeepers, we used the Institute's latest arrival in the vacuum cleaner field. (Turn to page 72) OCTOBER, 1932 3 3 Fleischmann's Yeast for health comes only In the foil-wrapped cake with the yellow label. It's yeast in its fresh, effec¬ tive form—rich in vitamins B, G and D— the kind famous doctors advise. Write for booklet. Dept. Y-U-10, Standard Brands Inc., 6<>1 Washington St.. New York City. advises Dr. ZlJELZER of Berlin Sluggish... Irritable Run-Down ? "It proved the perfect remedy " "I was terribly run-down and headachy, and had no energy at all," writes Mrs. Margaret C. Snyder of Malba, L. I. ''The doctor said my trouble was due to a sluggish system and advised Fleischmann's Yeast ... I noticed a decided improvement in two weeks. My appetite picked up and I felt stronger. Yeast proved the perfect remedy in my c: Don't feel only "half- well"! Read the advice this famous doctor gives "Y T THEN we consider that food VV residues, instead of leaving the body within twenty-four hours, sometimes remain in the intestines for days, it is not surprising that some people have headaches, indi¬ gestion, coated tongue, bad breath, poor appetite, skin troubles, irrita¬ bility, lowered vitality." That is how Dr. Georg Zuelzer, of Berlin, Germany, explains the effects of chronic constipation. Dr. Zuelzer is physician-in-chief of the great Lankwitz Hospital, and the author of the famous medical text¬ book, "Innere Medizin." We asked Dr. Zuelzer what he advised for sluggish intestines. ''For twenty-five years," he replied, ''I have fought this battle—that ''cathartics and laxatives injure the in- "testines and consequently the health. * 'They cannot correct constipation. Fresh "yeast does correct constipation." " By all means, " he added, " try it, if you "are sluggish and 'run-down.' " Eaten regularly, 3 cakes a day— before meals, or between meals and at bedtime—Fleischmann's Yeast has a remarkably stimulating ef¬ fect on " tired " intestines. At the same time it softens accumulated wastes so they can be expelled easily. Thus normal elimination is fos¬ tered, appetite restored. You di¬ gest your meals better. And as yeast continues to "tone" and purify your system, your strength picks up— " pep returns "—you feel life's really worth living! If you want to enjoy perfect health, begin eating Fleischmann's Yeast now. Eat it just plain, or in water (a third of a glass). At grocers, restaurants and soda fountains. Dr. Weicksel, famous German authority on internal diseases, says: "I have pre¬ scribed fresh yeast for a very large number of patients suffering from . . . disturbances brought on by chronic constipation. In such cases yeast has, in my experience, been the only effective remedy." Important DELINEATOR by CELIA CAROLINE COLE I F YOU want to travel and to be adjustable, be a beauty writer. Not that a beauty writer's body goes continuously shooting over space, but her inside self does. Letters from every comer of the U. S. A., from China, from France (oh, yes, even France wants to know), come rushing in, crying, "Tell me this, tell me that," and you have to shut your eyes and send your inside self rushing back to where they came from and see everything in its own setting and, for a minute, live the lives of these Delineator readers. Because they don't ask, you know, merely about their outside selves—beauty goes deep. A beauty writer has to push on into all those areas where love and fear and ambition and hate and shyness and egotism and all the things like that have their strongholds and find out what's what down there and then tell, the best she knows, what to do. It all makes a face. So she travels. And adjusts herself. And prays every day, "Please let me see like lightning and be seen like light." But in spite of it, things like this happen. In the mail there arrives a letter from a young business woman in Chicago, in which she says: "Almost all your articles seem to be written for housewives who have reached the age of thirty at least. I know loads of business girls who read you quite faithfully, and we have to pick out what is practical for us and sometimes when we finish picking, there isn't much! I know that there is no short cut to beauty, of course, but isn't there some system of taking care of oneself that doesn't require simply hours?" 1 stare at the letter? Has she mixed me up with some other beauty writer? Am I not always telling the shortest possible cut? Am I not always fussing because cosme¬ ticians make so many things and life is so short? (But she has it on me a bit about the age—I do talk too much, probably, to the older women. They need it more!) Well, I will expand and take in those delightful young business women more often. Then I open the next letter. "Dear Mrs. Cole, I read you so faithfully and profit by your philosophy, but can't you please write an article for middle-aged women who have lost everything and have to work for the first time in their lives and so need to look their best? It's easy for youth to keep whatever beauty it has and to be at¬ tractive anyway, but, for heaven's sake, help us!" Coming or going, I lack. And I care so much about helping all of you. I really do! I wish always that in the town of each of you there were some wise, honest, simple Less-than-thirty, yours is a simple beauty ritual. Women of over thirty must do more Drawing by WINIFRED MURY beauty expert who could look at you and tell you just what to do, just what preparations you need. It is never much that you need, just a few exactly right things and faithfulness—old or middle or young. It needn't take much time. Nor do you need much money. I wish that never in any department store was there a clerk who has a private arrangement to push this or that cosmetic and who tries to side-track you from the prepara¬ tion that you want by something that is "just as good" or "better"—perhaps a mushroom preparation that has sprung up overnight, and no one knows what oils, what chemicals are used that may injure the skin, enlarge the pores, dry out the natural oils. I believe so in this thing called beauty. I believe when all else fails and the heart is dying, beauty can bring it back to life and give it courage to start all over again. I look at you day after day as I pass you on the street and everywhere and thrill at you—so few really plain ones, so many really charming to look at and so often even the plain ones distinguished and interesting to see. We really are finding out how to do it—how to push out ugliness and drabness, how to prolong youth and its joy in living. (Thanks to manufacturers and chemistry.) Just a few right things and faithfulness. And really DELINEATOR INSTITUTE .Department of Beauty very little time, Miss Chicago. Young things need to take very little time, and older ones would need very little time if they would begin when they are young. Ten minutes in the morning, five minutes at noon, ten minutes at night—is that much to give to attain the look of being groomed, to retain the look of firmness and color clear through the fifties? Heavens—why were we * made women, if that's too much! F'irst of all, for all of you, there is, in almost every good-sized town or city, a new kind of beauty expert that will tell you what you need. This beauty expert is a machine, and it is simple and honest. It magnifies the skin so greatly that not only can you see in what con¬ dition your skin is but toward what condition it is headed. The operators who examine your skin with this glass are employed by a reputable cosmetic manufacturer. They are qualified to tell the truth to you. Insist upon being told what the condition is, as well as what to do for it. Even if yo.u are using preparations that you very much like, go to this salon that has the machine and take a treatment and get the examination and skin chart. FlND out by experimenting which is the best way to cleanse—for you. If your examination has told you that your skin is too dry, then follow your soap and water cleansing with plenty of oils. Or you can use some of the lovely milk cleansers, or cream-and-tonic, or a liquid cleanser that has an accompanying cream for dry skin. If your skin is oily, use soap and water, cleansing grains, or cleansing cream followed by astringent, or a liquid cleanser. Try them out and see which one makes your skin more supple and silken and fine. If the skin is normal, avoid the corrective cleansers and use a normal one—a fine, bland soap and lukewarm water, then cream followed by tonic. If you are under thirty, use very little astringent unless your skin is extremely oily. Use a rich cream, a nourisher around the eyes at night, pat it in lightly—don't just rub it on—and get the blood up. Nourishing creams can't accomplish much, just lightly rubbed on. Use tonic twice a day if your pores have a tendency to enlarge, or at night put on a very thin film of pore cream. And give more hours to sleep than you have been giving. Drink lots of water. Keep the intestines cleansed. If you are on your feet most of the day, take the tipped-up ironing-board treatment every night—for ten or fifteen minutes before dinner if you can—and totally relax while you lie there—just {Turn to page 52) OCTOBER, 1932 35 Special Uses lor Pond's Two Famous Creams Pond's Cold Cream is mare than a cleansing cream. It is wonderful for bringing life and freshness to a tired skin. And to make a dry skin soft and supple. It has the perfect consistency. Not too heavy. Not so thin it dries the skin. 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"At bedtime —after cleansing with the Cold Cream and Tissues I always put on a bit more of the Cold Cream and leave it on to lubricate my skin. It keeps away little lines and wrinkles. Cleansing, lubricating, stimulating, and protecting. My Pond's method supplies every one of these!" For 25 years in the most scientifically equipped laboratories. Pond's has been making and testing preparations to beau¬ tify the skin. Be sure that you get Pond's Creams—they are the most reliable that your money can buy. Send 10<t (t° cover cost of postage and pack¬ ing) for free samples of Pond's four products. pond's extract company, dept. K 115 Hudson Street . . . New York City City State Tune ii Pond's, Fridays, 9:30 P.M., E.D.S.T., continuous dance music rhythmed for actual dancing.Leo Reisman and his Orchestra—WEAF and NBC Network DELINEATOR 3 6 A FAMILY ALLIANCE Continued from page 15 cream linen paper in stock and a bottle of the blackest ink. That evening Jigger sat down to write her father and mother. She said she was sending them some New York letter-paper, and would they mind using this when they wrote Spike. And perhaps it would be nice to say this and this to him—she consulted Spike's parents' letter—she'd write out a few phrases that they might care to use. She tore that beginning up and started again. This time she wrote that she had told them so far, only about Spike, but of course, they'd be interested in his family too. The Hunters were an old Ohio family, more or less in politics like all Ohio people. "His father is owner and editor of the largest daily newspaper in the place where they live—it was his father's before him—and is trustee of one of the Ohio uni¬ versities. Spike's sister is married and she and her husband are now living in Paris." She hesitated, wrote, "France, you know," was ashamed of having done it and tore up that letter. Well, to make a long story short, Jigger wrote letters to her parents all night long and in the morning tore them all up and burst into tears. Not of joy, either! If she'd been there at home with them, she might, per¬ haps ... But you couldn't write that kind of letter to your father and mother. At least Jigger couldn't. Not to her father and mother. I haven't spoken about it before— it was something she would have blushed to have the gang suspect—but Jigger was rather a nice girl. She decided just not to show their letters to Spike when he came back but to tell him they had sent all kinds of good wishes to him. And when he actually saw her again, Spike was so astounded to find that Jigger was still there, still engaged to him, that he never noticed about her parents' letters one way or the other. He had so much encouragement from his boss (he was on the selling end for a big firm of wholesale druggists'! that they fell to calcu¬ lating minutely the cost of life in the suburbs. One of the surprising things those two smart-looking young New Yorkers had in common was a secret yearning for a house with a yard around it. Then Jigger went to her boss (the silk importer) and told him cheerfully that she was going to get married and that she would be leaving next week to go home and get her things ready. Her boss had spent a good deal of his time in the last five years repairing Jigger's mistakes of ignorance and had just begun to take some satisfaction in her ser¬ vices. What he thought about her and about women employees in general would be spicy reading. But you know what he thought. Perhaps from experience. So I won't spend any time on him but take you along with Jigger as she went home in May. And because I am sure that such a dis¬ cerning reader as you knows very well by this time what kind of folks Jigger's father and mother were, I don't need to describe them as they got out of their Ford at the sta¬ tion at Blue Falls, well ahead of time because Mr. Pratt wanted to ask the station agent about a new sprayer which should have ar¬ rived before this, and Mrs. Pratt wanted to speak to him seriously about his small daugh¬ ter's practising. "If Laura can't get in at least her hour a day, Mr. Elmore, it's just a waste of time for her to take music at all. I'd feel I was getting your two dollars a lesson on false pretenses," said Mrs. Pratt. And then the train came chugging around the curve, and they hurried out on the plat¬ form, and stood, the tears in Mrs. Pratt's eyes, a lump in Mr. Pratt's throat, to greet their baby girl coming back home for the last time —at least the last time she would still be Some of the New York make-up, and a good deal of the New York expression, had disappeared from Jigger's face during the trip from Manhattan to Blue Falls, and when she saw her father and mother waiting there, with their muddy country rubbers on their feet and that expression in their steady, loving eyes, she ran very fast to them and flung her arms around their necks and shed a But all the same, all the same . . . You don't need to be told what was in the mind of the Pratt's baby girl when she got into that battered middle-aged Ford, and drove over muddy roads to her "people's country place" and saw the square, clapboarded, red- painted house; the bay window filled with geraniums and wandering-jew; the golden oak dining room set; the front parlor with its long lace curtains draped back from the win¬ dows and its comfortable furniture of no rticular style or period; and her mother's ttered black upright piano and round piano stool, screwed high for the children who "took of Mrs. Pratt." They had a surprise for her, they told her, something done in honor of the wedding. Proudly watching her face they drew her into the front hall. A brand-new maple floor had been laid there, and new paper was on the "Well, Sister, what do you say to that?" asked Mr. Pratt. (For at home Jigger was not even Gladys, but Sister.) Sister-Jigger, feeling their eyes on her, looked at the shiny varnish on the floor and at the pretty little sprigs of flowers on the wallpaper and cried out with enthusiasm that it was jfxT-fectly wor-velous! Knowing her every inflection from babyhood up and hav¬ ing the advantage of twenty-five years more of life's battering than she, they perceived at once that something was wrong. And they were very much afraid they knew what it was. They had tried to put out of their minds the uneasiness they had felt when they read their daughter's letter about the uni¬ versity trustee, newspaper owner, living-in- Paris family she was marrying into. But it came coldly back now, filling the newly- done-over front hall with dismay. So they all began to talk in loud cheerful voices and moved on to take Jigger to her own room. They left her there to unpack and went downstairs together, heavy-hearted. "Gosh! I wish it was over!" said Mr. Pratt, plucking at the loose skin on his brown, weather-beaten neck. "Now, Papa, don't get nervous! The father of the bride is always fit to be tied, they say. It'll be all right." This was what Mrs. Pratt said. But after her husband had put on his overalls and had gone out to boss the spraying of the far orchard, Mrs. Pratt stood a long time by her old piano looking fixedly at the cover of "The Mulhausen Album for Beginners," although she must have known every word in it by heart. She was thinking so deeply that she did not notice the arrival of a little boy till he was there behind her. Coming to herself she caught sight of her face in a mirror opposite and was startled to see how somber and fore¬ boding she looked. "I'll have to do better than that," she thought. And said with an artificial cheerfulness that alarmed the little boy, "Oh, how are you, sonny? Let's start our five-finger exercises today with both hands. Don't you think that will be nice!" JlGGER had taken off her city shoes and put on a pair of sneakers, had changed her dress for an old skirt and sweater left hanging in her closet, and was now in the side yard under the grape arbor. A wild idea had oc¬ curred to her that perhaps they could have an outdoor garden-party wedding, with a striped tent for refreshments and a banked flower altar, and not have to go inside the house at all. But one look was enough. The side yard was just the side yard, no more. There were, it is true, lilac bushes in plenty, and clumps of tulips in bloom, a big bush of snowball, and a hydrangea; but there were also clumps of rhubarb in the comer, and a line of currant bushes at one side, and from it you saw the o/rfside of the house! Also the barn and chicken-house. Jigger stood still to look at the outside of her father's old house standing sturdily high and square on its green grass, the new leaves of its locust trees throwing a pattern of shadow on its shingled roof. A hen with some chickens wandered around the comer of the side porch. Some clean dish towels fluttered from a line by the back door. Jigger clenched her fists and said stormily to the hen and chickens, "I'll be darned if any stuck-up Ohio people are going to make me ashamed of my own home!" But this didn't prevent her from having, during the three weeks before her wedding, more crazy ideas than I could put down here, about how not to go through with what she (and Dora) had started. Every day she said fiercely to herself, "Let them think what they will. It's nothing to me!" And every day she knew that what they thought would be a good deal to her, might easily be a handicap to her all her married life. Every day she reminded herself that it would unendurably hurt her father and mother if now she just ran away with Spike around the corner in New York somewhere and got married by a justice of the peace or the county clerk or whoever married people; and every day she thought they might easily be even more hurt if she was married at home under the eyes of those hateful Ohio She put on a grimacing cheerfulness to hide the existence of this undercurrent, and she was, naturally, about as successful as she had been as a little girl trying to hide a misdeed from her mother. Mrs. Pratt grimaced cheer¬ fully back, her heart as heavy as lead. But when Mr. Pratt called her to come see how high the peas were sprouting, or to tell him where she wanted the clothesline hung and getting her there all to himself, asked in a low anxious voice, "Don't you think maybe Sister kinda hates to have those folks from Ohio come here for—" or, "Wouldn't it be better if we could somehow—" Mrs. Pratt always cut him short. "Mercy no! Fred! What an idea! She's just a little nervous about getting married. All girls are." She wasn't going to have any body, no matter if he was trustee of a university, make her Fred feel apologetic about not having made more money! He'd made enough! And then the fateful day came. Not the wedding day. The day the Hunters from Ohio were to arrive. They had decided not to drive, Spike wrote. His mother's back wasn't strong and long drives tired her. They were due on the late afternoon train the day before the wedding and Spike with them. The cheerful grimaces had worn pretty thin by that time, and none of the three Pratts even tried to keep them up as they made the last preparations at the house and donned their new street clothes to go to the station. There was little talk of any kind, and what there was quavered on a note of nervous uncertainty. "Sister, would you rather have me wear my overcoat?" "Which tie would you like to have me put on?" "Oh, Mother, do you think I look all right in this jersey? Or had I better put on my voile?" "Will this hat do, Sister?" In the Ford, Mrs. Pratt and her daughter on the back seat plucked at each other's neck arrangements, smoothed down each other's hair, put on their gloves and took them off and put them on again. On the front seat Mr. Pratt was thinking sadly, "I ought to have got on better. Other men do." On the platform, hearing the train whistle, they arrayed themselves in a row, thought that looked silly, stood back of each other, thought that looked worse, and held their ground despairingly just where they chanced to be. The train stopped. The brakeman came running down the steps, set a stool and turned to give a hand to an undeniably Fifth Avenue traveling costume, surmounted by a perfectly fitting, severe little dark hat which proclaimed negligently that it had been made in Paris. Back of this came a stunning overcoat accompanied by tan gloves, and topped by a marvelously fine and supple tan felt hat, the brim turned dashingly down in front. Yes, there were people inside those clothes, but Jigger didn't see them. Behind the Fifth Avenue costume with the Paris hat, and the stunning overcoat, was a tall young man with soft black eyebrows and bumps on his forehead. He was just as well dressed as the others but Jigger was so amazed to see who it was, she did not notice his clothes at all. It was Spike! Why, there was Spike! She gave an involuntary shriek of pure astonishment, echoed by one like it from the young man who ran rapidly toward her. Forgetting all her plans for well-bred self-control she sped as fast as she could into his arms. When they came back to this life, which took them rather longer than they realized, the Fifth Avenue costume and the swell tan overcoat had stiffly shaken hands and exchanged formal greetings with Mr. and Mrs. Pratt. Spike and Jigger were presented now and nervously shook hands with all. Spike's father and mother did nothing whatever to put their son's fiancee at her ease. They merely murmured a few guarded, cool words which she could hardly hear. "I hate them!" thought Jigger. "They don't like me! I'll always hate them! I'll take Spike away from them if it's my last act." And then Mr. Pratt said what had been agreed on beforehand (after the livery-car idea had been abandoned in a tacit resolu¬ tion to "get it over once and for all") as the best thing to say. He didn't do very well with it, did not use the jaunty accent his daughter had tried (trying not to seem to try) to suggest to him as the best one to carry it off. But he said it: "Well, our good old friend, the family Ford, waits at the back. It won't hold all six of us. Suppose we let the young people walk." Jigger, aware at once of suppressed sur¬ prise from the Paris hat and the expensive overcoat, ground her teeth and thought de¬ fiantly, miserably, "If I can only live through it!" Which is not, you will admit, a desirable way to look forward to your wedding day. Nobody said much of anything so they went around to where the Ford was parked. Jigger and Spike helped get the luggage in— sophisticated, expensive, going-to-Europe suitcases and a pigskin kit-bag that made the Ford hang its head. The four elders took their places. Spike shut the doors. "All right. We'll expect you when we see you," said Mr. Pratt, being over-jaunty now to make up for having boggled his speech about the Ford, and they drove away. AND if you please, we'll drive along with them, leaving Jigger and Spike to manage somehow—as they did—-to use up two hours walking the two miles to the old Pratt place. I can't imagine what they did to take that long, and anyhow it's none of our business. The first thing that happened inside the Ford was that Spike's father pulled off his gloves. "I see you don't wear 'em," he re¬ marked to Mr. Pratt at the wheel. When he had taken them off, he stretched his hands and wriggled his fingers and murmured, "Gosh! That feels good!" He then wriggled out of his overcoat, hung it over the back of the seat, ran his fingers around his collar, and took a long breath. His wife might have had something to say to this if her attention had not been fully engaged by Mrs. Pratt's answer to her first question. She had asked, in a prim, guarded voice, "Have you been away on tours a good deal this winter, Mrs. Pratt?" Jigger's mother had not the faintest idea what this meant, but having a lifelong habit of counting on plain truth-telling to get her out of any difficulty, answered, "Oh, no, I never go away from home. I couldn't leave Mr. Pratt. And he can't ever get away for more than a day or so. You know how it is with a farm and orchards. There's always some¬ thing that has to-" She did not finish her sentence. Her eye had fallen on the ele¬ gant overcoat which hung down from the front seat. It was folded so that the inside was out. Inside the collar was a forgotten price tag, very new and clean. Mrs. Pratt looked from this to the expen¬ sive suitcases. She now saw that they were new, brand-new. And so was the pigskin kit-bag. She looked around full into the face of the woman next her, and saw—under the perfectly fitting French hat—a face like her own. frankly middle-aged, rather worn, with honest, somewhat anxious eyes. From the front seat came the voice of Jigger's father, making conversation if it killed him "I understand you are much interested in education, Mr. Hunter." Spike's father looked around at his wife, got no help from her and answered uncer¬ tainly: "Oh, not so specially. Newspaper work's my line. I run the little daily my father started. I do it myself—with one old compositor. I haven't time for much else. Of course I believe in education, but-" "Why, I understood from Sister—our daughter, I mean—that you are trustee of one of the Ohio universities." "Oh, that!" said Mr. Hunter, laughing. "They call it a university. They call any¬ thing a university in Ohio, you know. There are seventeen of them, somebody told me once, or was it twenty-seven. It's just a local thing, a Methodist institution—only forty-seven students. They were having a hard time to get anybody to take a vacant place on the board, and Mother wanted me— But he went no farther. Mrs. Pratt leaned forward over the new price mark on the over¬ coat to ask intensely, "Do you mean to say you are Methodists ?" "Yes," they said. "Why?" "Why, so are we!" cried Mrs. Pratt. They were as struck by this as she. "You don't say so!" said Spike's father, turning his head to look at Mrs. Pratt as if he saw her for the first time. "Kenneth (Turn to page 38) OCTOBER, 1 9 3 2 3 7 To keep the supple softness... the yielding firmness of a youthful skin this much OLIVE OIL goes into every cake of Palmolive Follow this beauty treatment. Use this soap rich in olive oil .. . twice a day ... as experts advise. See how skin returns to the supple softness, the yielding firmness of youth. YOUTH is apt to forget . . . age is apt to ignore the importance of a firm, smooth, alluring skin. 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FAMILY ALLIANCE Twenty Cents out of every Dollar of the income of the people is the cost of government in the United States T HE United States, your State, your City or your County must depend on taxation to pay its cur¬ rent expenses, to carry on its undertakings, to pay off its bonds. ^ Every one—rich or poor—bears a share in the tax burden. ^ ^ Some pay income taxes, estate or inheritance taxes, specific duties or excise taxes. But all are taxed in¬ directly by the necessary inclusion of taxes in the cost of food, clothing, rent, merchandise, transpor¬ tation and other necessities obtained through the merchant, the landlord, the transportation companies and others who, themselves, are taxed. While the population of the United States increased by 29 per cent between 1913 and 1931, the expendi¬ tures of Federal, State and Municipal Govern¬ ments increased by 375 per cent. Governmental expenditures constituted 8 per cent of the national income in 1913 and 20 per cent of the national income in 1931. Expenditures by Federal, State and Municipal Governments equal l /s of the income of the American people—one day's income out of five. The only sources from which money can be obtained for the payment of such expenditures are the men, women and children of the coun¬ try—by taxation, direct or indirect. Bond issues merely postpone the day when the expenditure must be paid for—by taxes, for there is no other method. ^ ^ The only control over such expenditures rests with representatives of the people chosen for executive or legislative positions by the voters in their own communities. Metropolitan Life Insurance Company Frederick H. Ecker, President ^ One Madison Avenue, New York, N. Y. A Continued from page 36 never told us that!" said Mrs. Hunter. "Kenneth?" "Perhaps Gladys hadn't happened to tell hint about it." "Gladys?" "Well, anyhow," said Mrs. Pratt, "I've played the organ in our church for twenty- Over his shoulder, Mr. Hunter said: "Mother was Christian Endeavor leader when T first knew her. That's where we got acquainted." "Well!" said the mother of the bride. And "Well!" echoed the mother of the bridegroom. A thoughtful silence followed. Presently Airs. Hunter asked, "How did your daughter ever happen to go to New York?" "Well, she wanted to," explained Airs. Pratt, apologetically. "Yes, I know." The other mother under¬ stood perfectly. "It's better to let them," wisely com¬ mented the Ohio father from the front seat. "They have to get it out of their systems." THERE was another reflective silence. This was broken by Airs. Hunter's putting her hands up to her head. "Would you mind if I took this hat off? It's so tight it gives me a headache. Kenneth would have me buy it." "It's very stylish," said Airs. Pratt, looking at it on the other woman's knee. "Oh, stylish!" said Mrs. Hunter impa¬ tiently. "I never had such a thing on my head before. I think it makes me look per¬ fectly ridiculous. But Kenneth wanted us—" She broke off hastily. Airs. Pratt now asked her acutely, "Did you come by way of New York or straight "We've been in New York with Kenneth three whole days," said the other. "You must be tired." From the front seat Air. Hunter cried out, "Tired? Dead! Once is enough for me. I wouldn't live there if you gave me a million dollars." "That's what I always say!" agreed Mr. Pratt. They were now arrived. The Ford stopped. "Here we are," said Air. Pratt. He had stopped at the side porch and when they got out, they faced the row of currant bushes. "Aly! Aren't they far along!" said the lady with the Paris hat in her hand. "They'll be ready to do up before long, won't they?" "I hope they'll last till some of our early raspberries are ripe," said Mrs. Pratt. "Yes, I put up mine with raspberries too," said the Fifth Avenue traveling costume. "Well, well, come on in, folks," said Air. Pratt, heartily. "We're just awfully glad to have you here." He sounded as though he meant it, and he did. They all went in and shut the door. And it was not opened again till two hours later when Spike and Jigger came in, and Jigger, bracing herself and looking very determined, pushed it open and led her fiance inside her This is what she saw. In the living room, sitting with her father, who was in his shirt-sleeves, sat a fatherly looking bald-headed man, also in his shirt¬ sleeves. Both men were smoking pipes, and both were laughing. "Hello there, Sister!" said her father, put¬ ting out a hand to her. "What do you think! Your young man's father and I were in the same regiment down in Cuba, when we were boys. Can you beat that!" "Your father had a little the edge on me before it was over," said the good-natured looking man with him—could that be Spike's father? "We were both corporals but he got to be a sergeant." "Only just made it before we were mus¬ tered out," said Mr. Pratt. He leaned for¬ ward and clapped the other man on the knee. "Say, do you remember the time Lieutenant Atwater Dillingham Jones knocked his cam¬ paign hat off, saluting the Colonel?" A delighted yell of recollection and laugh¬ ter from the other man drowned him out: "By George, I haven't thought of that from that day to this!" he said brokenly through his spasms, alternately wiping his eyes and holding himself together with his hands. Jigger and Spike turned, looked deeply into each other's eyes and, unnoticed by the laugh¬ ing fathers, stepped out into the front hall, shutting the door behind them. But they were not alone there. Yoiccs sounded from the top of the stairs. Someone was starting Looking up Jigger saw a pleasant-faced, gray-haired, comfortable-looking woman in one of her mother's clean wrap-around blue aprons. She was saying over her shoulder to Mrs. Pratt on the landing above, "But she's never liked it at aE over there. Nor he either. They're crazy to get back to Akron." Seeing her son's fiancee staring up at her, she explained, "I was just telling your mother about Kenneth's married sister, Carrie. He's probably told you her husband works for a company that makes vacuum cleaners and when they thought they'd try to sell some in France, they wanted somebody over there that understood all about the way they worked. He's a very good hand with machinery, Carrie's husband is." Having now come to the bottom step, she looked around her and said, "Aly! I wish my front hall was as fresh as this. We haven't had it done over since Kenneth was in the seventh grade. But I simply can't get Air. Hunter to admit how terribly it looks." She looked shyly at the girl before her and said, smiling, "You must make Kenneth mind you better than I ever have his father." She had a very sweet smile and it went to Jigger's heart. "Oh. I love her!" she thought emotionally. "I must be sure not to take Spike away from her." A roar of laughter came from the living room. "What a good time those boys are having," said Airs. Hunter, indulgently. The two mothers passed on to the kitchen, Mrs. Pratt saying, "And we thought it would be nice to have baking-powder biscuits with the salad—little tiny ones, you know." "Yes, I cut mine out with a napkin ring," said Mrs. Hunter. Alone in the front hall stood a couple of distinguished young cosmopolites, just stepped out of their expensive stateroom on an ocean grayhound. Dreamily, almost absently, as if they did not really know what they were doing, they put their arms around each other, and laid their cheeks together. "Kenneth," breathed the girl in his ear, "do you know we never can live up to our parents, not if we live to be a hundred!" He moved his cheek against hers in a nod of assent. "You said it, Sister." MUSSOLINI AND THE NEW SPIRIT IN ITALY Continued from page 4 my compliments to your wife, and I hope that you will both continue to enjoy your travels in Italy." The room was altogether too vast for me to retire backwards, as one is said to do in the presence of royalty. Furthermore, he had been very informal in manner, and I knew it was necessary for him to return to his work as soon as possible. I thanked him for his kind¬ ness in granting the interview. Then I turned and walked over that shining floor to the distant door. At the portal I turned. He was still standing. I gave him an imita¬ tion of the military salute, and received the real article in return. But it was given with a friendly smile. Outside the door were the three officers in uniform. Heels clicked, hands in the air; salutes were exchanged. At 6:12 I was in the street. Aleeting Alussolini was a great experience. Although he was cordial and informal, his personality is as impressive as I thought it would be, and my anticipations were very high. He has already won an imperishable place in history, and as he seems to be in perfect health and in the plenitude of his powers, the future will be most interesting. OCTOBER, 1932 DELINEATOR Lively Wool... stays young longer Our Lively Wool has the happy habit of upsetting all the rules when it comes to wear and tear. That's why we can promise you such value in any Bigelow rug or carpet— Lively Wool is the Bigelow Weavers own private blending. We choose certain wools for springiness, others for toughness, and still others for natural lustre. And there's the secret of Lively Wool... 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Heinz supplies its growers with special tomato plants, reared from select seed in Heinz greenhouses (the product of many years of Heinz to¬ mato culture) and the growers return to Heinz the cream of this luscious prize crop. Seasoned with delicate spices and bottled hot from the kettle, it precisely touches the spot! ... A favorite in all good restaurants — be sure to keep it on the table at home. H. J. HEINZ COMPANY PITTSBURGH, U.S. A. • TORONTO, CAN. • LONDON, ENG. HEINZ TOMATO KETCHUP lat Heartu Mated .. IT'S HIIIZ/ OCTOBER 1932 4 1 THE FOOTPRINTS OF DIANE LE MAR Continued from page 18 too. But at the more exclusive affairs where only the big stars exhibited themselves, Diane was sure to be present. Miss Miller wrote: Diane is one of the most natural of our stars, unaffected by the glamour of success. She is a quiet, home-loving girl who likes nothing better than her garden and. her boohs, whose home is filled with good music and rare objects of art. For this Diane sent her an old fur coat and a solid silver cocktail shaker. The gossip journals wrote: When will Diane Le Mar marry Paul Nevin? Will you keep us guessing, Diane? The public and the press had entirely for¬ gotten Cal. They had forgotten that she had a husband. Once in a while Diane thought of him, of course, and she remembered that when she was less busy and got around to it, she must divorce him. Divorces, however, were too common to be useful publicity, so she didn't get around to it. Every so often Paul Nevin would pin her down: "Diane, when are you going to di¬ vorce-" "S-sh-h. . ." "Well, I know, everybody knows that-' "That what?" "That he isn't your kind." On such occasions Diane always promised that she would do it immediately. Once she got as far as calling up her lawyer. But on that night the first talking picture had its preview, and the movie world was thrown into bedlam. ' "They will never, never last," said Diane, because she didn't want them to. "A ridiculous fad," said Paul, who didn't either. They did. They lasted, and Diane forgot that Cal existed. If she had known work in the old days, she knew it thrice in the new. When she had bought her Beverly Hills home, she had never expected to sing in the music room, read in the library, or practise tap dancing in the ballroom. She did all these and more too. Every other day Signor Bellico put her through her singing exercises. On the days when Signor Bellico did not come, an elderly female actress did. She came promptly, and the two of them shut themselves in the library, while Diane rounded off a hard day at the studio by reading aloud. On the days when neither Signor Bellico nor the actress came, Diane took French les¬ sons. She ran off French records on a port¬ able phonograph, and repeated sentences after them. Diane's talkie debut was considered auspi¬ cious. The studio bought a good story for her and surrounded her with the best Broadway talent. It did the same thing in the second, and when the third picture came out, Diane was definitely considered one of the chosen few to weather the storm. Of course the more critical reviews carried such paragraphs as: Why did they make Diane Le Mar sing? If she had talked her songs instead of singing them through her nose, her performance woidd have been greatly en¬ hanced. One expected that sort of thing. The box- office had the final say-so, and the box-office said she clicked. WHEN her third talkie made such a hit, Diane relaxed a bit, let the phonograph run down, told the elderly actress she had a head¬ ache, kept Signor Bellico waiting in the hall, and remembered that she must write Cal and ask him if he would give her a divorce. However, she didn't do it. She laid off work a few days, until Stelling asked her to come to his office and discuss her next picture. In the anteroom, with its huge picture of Stelling, which had been painted by one of Europe's best artists, she met Paul, and he asked her to dance at the Blossom Room the next evening. He went in to see Stelling first. When it was her turn, Paul had gone and Stelling was alone. "Come in, Diane." She sank luxuriously into her chair and re¬ turned his smile. "I'm going to give you a little rest, Diane. You've been looking tired." So they weren't going to start work on "Top of the Moon" at once. She was glad. She was tired. "We're changing your type, Diane." That meant dyeing her hair again. She laughed. "Blonde or brunette?" she asked. "I don't know," said Stelling. "I'm look¬ ing for something different for you. Some¬ thing big." She didn't care much what it was. He had good judgment and she trusted him. "YOU know," said Stelling, "the public goes to a screen star's first talkie out of curi¬ osity. If she's any good at all, that picture is likely to be considered better than it really is. It goes the second tifhe to see if she can do it again. It's the third and the fourth pictures that count, Diane. And after that, when the novelty's off." "The screen stars seem to be holding their own," she reminded him. "A few are," he admitted. "Some only seem to be, because they're surrounded by the very best talent the stage can give. The public's getting too darned smart. It's learned the difference between a pretty face and somebody who knows his stuff." She wondered how this concerned her. "I can't find a new picture for you that suits me. I'm shopping around," said Stelling. So that was it. She relaxed again into the depths of her big chair. "Meanwhile we've rented you out, Diane, to Tri-Art." Rented her out! She knew what that meant. When a star is not working, her com¬ pany sometimes lends her to another com¬ pany. The Tri-Art was not one of the best studios. It made quick films with an eye only on the box-office. It could take her and put her in one poor picture, and she'd be skidding. She should say something. Protest! Talk! Cry out! Anything but sit there, quiet and level-eyed. She only said, "For how long?" "Three months." For the rest of her contract. Stelling rose. He was dismissing her. "Well—I'll see you again. Tri-Art will want you over next week. And by the way, we have a new stage star coming in. We're crowded. Better let her have your bungalow. You can move back when you return." When she returned. She knew and he knew that she wasn't coming back. That her con¬ tract at the end of three months wasn't going to be renewed. Well, why couldn't he say so? Why couldn't he come right out and tell her he was firing her after her years of loyalty and work? After they had tied her up on a long¬ term contract which was much less than that of some of the stars. Diane got up. She was white now. It had come to her in a flash that he was dismissing her just exactly as she had dismissed Cal. Pretending she wanted him. Pretending she hoped he would stay. And now somebody else was doing it to her. Somewhere down underneath there was just enough of Missie King—a rancher's daughter and a rancher's wife—left in her to make her take this thing standing. "Who is the new import?" she asked him. Her voice was poised. Only its tone, pitched lower than usual, gave her away. "Sally Wilcox. I'll see that you meet her." "Thanks. I'd like to." Stelling looked horribly relieved now. He was going to get out of this without hysterics. He thought she was so dumb she didn't know what he was doing to her. She said, "So you're dropping me. Well— that's that, isn't it? Goodbye." It was Stelling's turn to be surprised. She didn't give him a ( Turn to page 42) If You Are Going to Move: The following notice to all DELINEATOR subscribers is im¬ portant. Read it, please—and remember. Changes of address must reach us five weeks in advance of the next issue date. Duplicate copies cannot be sent to cover copies not received through failure to advise us in advance of your change of address. Be sure to give both the old and new addresses. No copies will be forwarded to you by the Post Office from your old address unless you supply the extra postage. 99t£°/o PURE Her great-great-grandmother's? How'd she dare wash it?" "ivory snow, silly! That's as gentle as the soap you use on your face. No soap spots to strain cobwebby threads —with IVORY SNOW. Fine, sheer fab¬ rics need delicate handling. If a flake of soap flattens into the mesh, it takes rub¬ bing to rinse it out and if it dries in, it makes a stiff, brittle spot where the threads break easily. That is why Ivory Snow is so safe for washing precious laces, trousseau lingerie, fine woolens, sheer silk stockings. Ivory Snow has no flat particles that can cling and make soap spots! Instead of being cut into flat flakes, it is BLOWN. Each particle is soft and round, so that it melts even in lukewarm water like snow itself. Instant suds without using hot water. No danger of plunging your fine things by mistake into too-hot suds when you use Ivory Snow! For with Ivory Snow you can start with safe, LUKEWARM water. In an instant you'll get thoroughly dissolved suds that won't redder your hands ... that will be gentle to fabrics and colors... that will rinse quickly and clearly away. PURE as the babies' bath soap. Ivory Snow is pure Ivory Soap. Where can you find as safe a soap for costly fineries as Ivory, which doctors advise for a baby's tender skin? Be economical. Get Ivory Snow from your grocer and take care of all your good things with this pure soap. The big box of Ivory Snow costs only 15^. THE FOOTPRINTS OF DIANE LE MAR Don't CftiAnMe. on secret formulas in Laxatives! Don't take any laxative unless you know what is in it! Beware of any laxative made by a secret formula. It isn't enough that it "works". It must work safely. Tlie wrong sorts of laxatives do more harm than good, and doctors will warn you against them. Many of them are viciously habit-forming. What the Doctor looks for Before he approves a laxative the doctor demands that it: —should be mild and gentle, yet effective. —should not rush food through the stomach. —should not disturb digestion, —should limit its action to the intestines. —should not gripe. —should not be habit-forming. On each of these points Ex-Lax gets a perfect score. Doctors approve the Ex-Lax way. It checks on every point they look for in a laxative. No secret about Ex-Lax Ex-Lax contains a single medicinal ingredient—the scientific laxative, phenolplithaleiu. The exclusive formula of Ex-Lax is simply the perfect blending, into a delicious chocolated base, of phenolphthalein — of the right quality, in the correct proportion and the correct dose. Since Ex-Lax was offered to the public 26 years ago, many laxatives have come and gone. Yet Ex-Lax is still the leading laxative, holding its millions of old friends, and win¬ ning hosts of new ones every year. Ex-lax simply acts as Nature does Ex-Lax simply "nudges" the intes¬ tinal muscles gently and so stimu¬ lates the bowels to gentle activity. Children as well as grown-ups, like Ex-Lax. There is no more de¬ lightful way of taking a safe, gentle laxative than the Ex-Lax way. At all drug stores — 10c, 25c, 50c. Or mail coupon for free sample. FREE SAMPLE COUPON Y Y 0-102 Continued from page 41 : ha nee to say anything. She walked out, shutting the door behind her. Paul was waiting at her bungalow. She :ould tell by his face that he knew, that this was what Stelling had called him to tell him. She tried to make herself believe that he was ,'oing to smile at her in that clean, fine way the public loved, and say: "That's the game. Diane. I'm with you." "Hello, Paul. Been waiting long? Come ni in." She tried to sound very casual—and They went in. He was squirming too. Why lid they have to squirm? If she could go through this, why couldn't they? "Are we going tomorrow evening?" she "As a matter of fact, that's what I came in about," he said, none too easily. "I can't make it. I've got to attend the studio welcome for Sally Wilcox. She's coming in on the Chief tomorrow. It's been kept a secret. I didn't know myself until today. You see—I'm going to play with her in her first picture, 'Top of the Moon'." She looked at him carefully, this man she had made. She gave him that same level¬ eyed look she had given Stelling. She even made it easy for him. She didn't know why. She said, "That's all right, Paul." When he had gone, she sat in her little room alone. D i AXE moved out of her bungalow the day after the welcome to Sally Wilcox. News spreads like fire in Hollywood. The whole town knew her contract was not going to be She took Suzanne out with her to pack up the contents of the precious dressing room on C street in the studio yards. Across the street was Paul's bungalow. There were voices in it today. A new voice raised itself above the others. Nobody had to tell Diane that it belonged to Sally. No¬ body had to tell Diane either that when she was gone, Sally would come over to have a look at the bungalow which was to be hers. To finger the curtains. To poke into the drawers. To make remarks. Oh, she knew! Already the younger satellites were hover¬ ing about Sally. It was Sally who would spend the afternoon posing for "stills," who would be shut up in Stelling's office with the press agent. In the morning paper Miss Miller had written: It is learned from dependable sources ihat M.H.J. will not renew the contract of Diane Le Mar. Just another movie star who couldn't make the grade, although this one held on longer than some of the others. For this Diane sent her nothing at all. Diane directed while Suzanne packed. To¬ morrow the carpenter would come over and take down her name, and put up a new plaque with Sally's name on it. And tomorrow the bungalow would be "done over." She wouldn't even be able to go away in her own car with Suzanne in her dark maid's uniform beside Patrick in the front seat. The car was in the garage for repairs, and the exit would have to be made as gracefully as possible in a taxi. One thing Diane was glad to know. Her pay check would come from the old studio. For three months it would be as large as ever. In one stricken moment she wondered what had happened to all this money she had made. She saw a million ways she could have saved. She should have known it would not last forever. When everything was packed, she sent Suzanne to call a taxi, and took her last look around the room. She heard a man's step on the tiny porch. No doubt it was Paul, coming to do the big thing and say goodbye. She opened the door. There stood Cal. He looked big and comfortable. Cal wouldn't squirm, no matter what happened to him. "Hello," he said. "I just figured you might He had a car with him into which he stowed the baggage. He didn't ask any questions. He laughed while Suzanne got in the front seat with an armload. Paul could hear him. And Sally too. Diane laughed too. She made her exit gracefully. But in the car on the way home she looked at Cal strangely, and she won¬ dered if something more, than luck had brought him when she needed him so. She said, "I'm being sold down the river. I'm being let out, Cal." "I know. I guessed it." "How?" He grinned a little sheepishly. "Well," he admitted, "I went clear to San Francisco to hear you sing." Tired as she was, Diane had to laugh and laugh. Cal stayed six months. He moved in and sent for his trunk. In all these years it was his first long visit. He fussed around the house, or played golf with somebody he had picked up and was never in the way. It was nice to have him there, though he was very little help in the new campaign into which Diane threw herself. She tried to be kind to him, but it was hard for her to be kind to anybody. There was too much else to think about. Tri-Art was even a cheaper outfit than she had expected. It made a picture in one month that should have taken three. She told herself that even in a poor picture good work could stand out, but she didn't believe it. And all the time she knew that when her contract was out, unless something happened, she would have to accept a cheap offer from a cheap company or go on a vaudeville tour "for stage experience" as a hundred other screen stars had done before her. "I'm going to stage a comeback," she told herself fiercely. "Others have done it. So can I." She reminded herself that Hollywood is a supper table town. It is a place where you plot for what you want. You work your friends to ask you to dine and seat you next to the man you want, and if there are no lumps in the dessert and the demi-tasse is good, perhaps . . . Diane told herself that it is a place of favors. You do a favor for me, and I do a favor for you. Diane had plenty of favors to her credit, but when she looked around for the return check, the recipients were so busy doing favors for somebody else that they had forgotten her. She worked the friends who stood by her. She picked up a clever young press agent and paid her to keep the movie columns full of rumors as to what she was going to do next. She splurged instead of saving in clothes, and managed to be seen where it might pay to be seen. The only trouble was that there were a dozen others doing exactly the same thing. Cal was sweet as usual and just played golf. Sometimes she felt like shaking him—so dumb he was, and so oblivious to the fight. Once he asked if he could bring some fellow golfer home to supper on a Sunday night. It had been a blue day. Diane had pulled plenty of ribbons, and not one of them had had anything on the other end. When she reached home, Cal was there already, and to her amazement she saw that he had brought home Griffin, an independent director, much in demand by the studios. She was so angry she could have murdered Cal for not telling her he knew this man who might help her. Naturally she did not show it. There was too much to do. She rushed upstairs and changed her dress, and gave orders to the cook. And she put on as fine a performance of connubial bliss as has been done before or since. She was lovely to Cal. She was lovelier to Griffin. Griffin came once. He came again. It be¬ came rather a customary thing that he and Cal should play golf together Sunday and drop in at the house for supper. On his third visit he asked Diane what she was going to do after her contract was done. She said frankly that she didn't know. "Perhaps," said Griffin, "I have something that might interest you." THAT is how Diane Le Mar began to climb again. On that picture with Griffin she worked as she had never worked before. Everything had to be just right, put together bit by bit with an eye for detail. Diane was not on contract now. She was being paid only for this one picture. How good it was or how good a chance it gave her, she didn't know. She only knew that she had no opportunity for sumptuous clothes, that there were no marvelous stage effects, that Griffin was breaking away from the musical comedy rage to do an outdoor epic sort of OCTOBER, 1932 thing which was considered a rather daring experiment. She only knew that her part was easier for her, and that she seemed to do it more naturally. Nobody knew how much of a success this picture would be, but everyone knew that if Griffin made it, it was bound to be different. It had its world premiere in Hollywood. .Vll the other studios sent representatives, not as a courtesy this time, but as scouts to see what Griffin had done. Diane went with Griffin, but Cal stayed home. He said he would go by himself and get a seat somewhere in the back. Everybody was there. Miss Miller was there. Paul Nevin was there. Sally Wilcox, whose first picture had come on the tail end of a flock of equally good musical comedies, and therefore not made the hit expected of it, was there. Stelling was there. The gaping crowds, the trucks loaded with sun-arc lights, the squads of policemen, the glare and the glitter were all there. When the picture was run off, everyone knew it was a hit. It had the tang and breath of the West about it. There was a good story full of suspense, marvelous scenic effects, and acting that wasn't acting at all. The public knew only that here was a new kind of picture and a new kind of Diane Only Diane, tense and scared, knew that they were not looking at Diane Le Mar at all; they were looking at Missie King. She said to Griffin: "Tell me the truth. How did you happen; to get me for this pic¬ ture? How were you clever enough to know that once I was that?" He said: "I wasn't. Your husband told me. He asked me to give you a chance. He said he felt that you had never been given a part that suited you." So Cal had done this for her. She hadn't done it herself, after all. When she had made her first big success, he had gone away be¬ cause she wanted him to go. But when she had hit the skids and everybody else had gone back on her, he had come back and found a way to start her climbing. After the picture Griffin said, "I'll put you on a contract." Stelling said, "My God, why did I ever let Paul said, "If I can only play with her Miss Miller wrote: The most astounding comeback of years. Diane Le Mar, considered through by her own company, has staged a triumph. For this she would expect a very nice gift, and she would not get it. Cal said nothing at all. All through the evening Diane waited for him. These people were crawling back now, but they meant nothing to her. For the first time of the many times she had said so, she really wished she were home out of this fuss and flutter. There was a supper after the premiere, but Cal was not there. When at last she was home, she almost ran up the steps. She went in the front door and called, "Cal, Cal . . ." On the dressing table was his note: "Honey, I'm going home. I guess you won't need me now.' Cal." All night Diane thought about that note. She thought about Cal sitting on the porch of the ranch, staring off into the blue of the hills, puffing at his pipe, and waiting for her to find out that what he offered was what she wanted—the one thing fame had not given. In the morning, very early, she borrowed Suzanne's coat. It was just an ordinary tan coat with a little bunny rabbit on it. She borrowed Suzanne's hat, which anybody could buy in the basement of a big depart¬ ment store for five dollars. This was her big moment and nobody was going to spoil it for her. When Suzanne had packed a shabby brown bag for her, she took the bus to Hollywood, and the street-car downtown. Nobody ex¬ pects to see a screen star on a street-car. It was a long ride. When she transferred at Hill and Sixth, she realized that nobody had looked at her. At the station she ignored the extra-fare train, patronized by the movies, and caught the slowest train of them all that stopped at every jerkwater station. She would come back of course to take the velvet and make the money while it was offered. But with a difference now. There is only one truth about Hollywood: that what is here today will be gone tomor¬ row; that when you reach the top there is only one place to go, and that's down. When the time came for the theater management to send a man out to dig up her name in the cement and put a new young star's down, there would be two people who wouldn't care. DI ANE sat in the coach and wished the train would hurry. A housewife from Iowa shared the seat with her. "You look right like Diane Le Mar," said the housewife. "Really?" "I've been to Hollywood," confided the housewife. "I've seen some of the stars per¬ sonally. Once I was that near to Clark Gable I could have touched him. I visited my aunt there. She's got a right bad case of kidney trouble." "Too bad," said Diane. "Oh, I was glad to go. I always say a family's got to stick together. Besides, it's a right interesting place. You've never been there, have you? Well, say, they've got a theater there with the hand- and footprints of the stars in the cement. It says, 'These are the Hand- and Footprints of Diane Le Mar' in her own handwriting. Seems silly, but I guess they eat it up." "I guess so," said Diane. The woman leaned nearer. "Say—you aren't her, are you?" Diane's answer was an accomplishment. It had taken years to learn how to give it. It was something big and shining and glorious, but of all the shining things she had ever done, she did not know that this was one of them. She only knew that she was tired. She said simply: "Me? No—I'm just a rancher's wife." THIS ROOM IS A HOUSE IN ITSELF! Continued from page 24 many other kinds. The simple design is so skilfully carried out in pleasantly varied tones of brown, tan, and beige, that it com¬ bines all the restfulness of a one-color rug with the charm of an unusually attractive design. This rug was laid over Ozite, a resilient rug lining. You will see at once the forthright charm of the window treatment. At the top of the window group is a trough of indirect lighting, achieved by a light-strip, which gives a glow to this entire side of the room. Obviously this is most effective for the reading, writing, dining, and radio groupings at this side of the The window shades, in linen color, are of excellent quality. The glass curtains 'are of sheer, flesh-color Virginia gauze. The three- sided valance makes a feature of the lovely design of the chintz, by pattern cut-out and the one-inch beige border. This chintz, with its warm, prune-color background, has the conservative charm and the unmistakable mellowness of an old English chintz ... in¬ deed, it has been named just that—"English Chintz." The luminous quality of this chintz, in the draperies and in the slip-cover of the couch, gives an artistic accent against the other neutral patterns in the room. Now we are ready for the furnishings. When we chose our furniture for this room we held firmly to the thought that, although we were building a three-in-one room, it was the living room personality that we wished to develop. Every chair must make its contri¬ bution as a living room chair, even though the side chairs were also to be used as dining room chairs. All the tables must be appro¬ priate to a living room, even though the library table was to be used as a dining room table. The couch, the bookcase, the radio, the chest of drawers ... all living room pieces. The very special problem of a room that must be lived in by day and slept in by night is the finding of a bed that will, in some magic way, have the smart and graceful appear¬ ance of a day-couch, that will be of a size adapted to the scale of such a room, and that will climax all this by transforming itself into a miracle of comfort as a bed. We found that an American manufacturer, after years of study and experiment on this problem . . . which he ( Turn to page 44) 43 New one-day painting method welcomed by thousands Wallhide, the new Vitalized - * Oil Paint, saves days of mess and disorder . . . saves money and gives results never before possible Wallhide, the new Vitolized Oil Paint, has brought the joy of one-day painting into thou¬ sands of homes. It is doubtful whether any decorating method has ever received such a hearty welcome from women, who have gone through the days of mess, of disorder, and the costly delays of ordinary slow-drying wall paint. No longer need you dread those topsy turvy, smelly decorating days INowthe painters start in the morning. That evening your room is settled—pictures and curtains back in place ... the walls spotlessly clean and fresh. Wallhide paint is offered in 15 of the most pleasing colors you have ever seen. All are washable and all are available in the modern satin-finish or "flat-type. " Wallhide is also supplied to produce the glossier finishes de¬ sired for kitchens, bathrooms and woodwork. One coat is usually all that is needed on walls that have been painted before. But even on new walls, two coats can be applied and pictures hung the same day. Wallhide won't chip, crack, peel or blister because it con¬ tains Vitolized Oil which keeps the paint film alive and elastic for years. Mail the coupon for a Wallhide color chart and free testing outfit. Ask your painter to use it. PITTSBURGH PLATE GLASS COMPANY Paint and Varnish Division—Milwaukee, Wis. Send for this Free Test Outfit —it shows you the advantages of *Vitolized Oil Make this dra¬ matic Wallhide See the many superiorities of this Vitolized Oil paint—why it covers better, wears longer, why it keeps the paint film alive and elastic in¬ definitely. Color chart and de¬ scriptive litera- with the testing outfit. Mail the coupon today. PITTSBURGH PJ.ATF. GLASS COMPANY WALLHIDE wallhide The "Vitolized Oil" Paint 44 DELINEATOR Save ELASTICITY —it makes stockings jit Those dowdy little wrinkles around ankle and heel. . . Seams that ride around ... Do you know why they happen ? When your stockings are new, they fit smoothly and hug the leg closely because the silk threads are elastic. They have a live springiness that lets them give at each move of the leg, then spring back into shape. But when the elasticity is lost — then the stockings sag out of shape. Wrinkle and bag where they should fit most snugly! Seams are apt to Lux preserves stocking E-L-A-S-T-I-C-I-T-Y ride around and if you fasten garters more tightly to try to keep them in place—then the lifeless threads break. Another run starts! Don't run chances that may ruin stockings! It's so easy to keep them trim and sightly and make them wear. For Lux is especially made to preserve elasticity—all the "live" quality the silk has when it's new. A nightly 2-minute bath in luke¬ warm Lux suds will preserve beauty of jit and double stocking wear. THIS ROOM IS A HOUSE IN ITSELF! Continued from page 43 Windows without sashweights now give us slender mullions wisely realized was becoming a national one . .. had produced just this wonder. He had given a low, smartly-tailored line to the back; had made the pillow-rest and the pillow exactly the right design for couch- comfort; had devised the simplest and easiest way of opening the bed; and then had capital¬ ized, in the construction of the bed, all the excellent qualities that had already become famous in the construction of his comfort¬ able, buoyant, innerspring mattresses. This couch-bed we slip-covered, with con¬ venient zipper fastenings, in the same lovely chintz used in the draperies. This not only gave a new personality to such a piece of furniture, but created an artistic balancing of design in the room. The photograph of the opened bed on page 26 shows you how comfortably it can be made: with pillows filled with white goose feathers; with sheets of fine, soft texture; with a reversible blanket, the interesting new combination of white on one side and peach on the other; with a lovely peach-and-apricot- toned comfortable; and with a scalloped beige • blanket cover of Korean silk. A living room deserves that happy name only when its chairs combine perfect comfort with an excellent appearance. Here, funda¬ mentally, we capture that desired "at rest" quality for the room. In our choice of chairs we feel that our living room completely qualifies for that name. To carry out in the room a certain quality of sensitive balance which was to contribute an interesting deco¬ rative feature to the room, we chose two lounge chairs of one kind, two of another kind, and a most attractive occasional chair, all registering that deep, complete restful¬ ness so essential, so very essential, in chairs. These chairs tempt you to sit in them . . . What more can be said? But something more should be said, for we carefully investigated the method by which these chairs are constructed, and found it supremely meritorious. And—good news! —they are as inexpensive, as rightly priced, as it is possible to price chairs that are so excellently constructed and so beautifully up¬ holstered. Our creed is, as you know, that it is the most unwise economy to buy a poorly constructed chair. THE chairs and couch are, as they should be, companioned with tables—simple, charm¬ ing, useful tables. The handsome library¬ dining table. The pie crust table, beautifully designed. The occasional table, most useful beside the lounge chair by day, and as a bed- table by night. The beautiful end-tables by the couch. The coffee table, in front of the couch. The two-tiered dumb waiter as a supplement to the dining table. Notice, too, the unusual distinction of the dresser base and the bookcase. The excel¬ lently designed console radio in the new Con¬ vention model. The pleasant, unassuming quality of the electric strike clock. The ingenious Magiclog electric fire. The chief glory of the dining room group is that every member of it thoroughly achieves a living room personality between meals and a complete dining room convenience during meals. In this way the artistic unity of the room is maintained. The handsome living room table becomes an excellent dining table. The Chinese Chippendale side chairs, unusually fine in design and workmanship, become the dining chairs. So that the table could easily be cleared, we put on it, in its living room capacity, only a crystal girandole, and a pair of flower pots with geraniums. CONSISTENT with our plan of keeping a low budget for this room, we equipped our table with items of low cost and of good taste. The table cloth and six napkins, of provin¬ cial weave, cost, for instance, less than three dollars. The plates are of Italian pottery, the bread and butter plates uniquely carrying the scenic background. We used a new de¬ sign in American glass, most graceful and effective. And combining excellently with these is the handsome new "Guild" pattern of silver-plate, in flatware on the table, in the hollowware that we have shown on the dumb waiter, and in the service that we have shown on the coffee table. "Uncluttered this room must be," we de¬ termined as we chose the accessories. Every detail to be light-hearted, appropriately to complete the personality of the room. First we maintained the restful spacious¬ ness of the walls by putting very little on them—the chief decoration being two pairs of painted plaster wall brackets holding vases from which bloom a few daisies. What a gay idea, this, to bring spring to a room! Be¬ tween the two brackets on the east wall we hung a black and white engraving. Appropriately gay in their spirit are the alabaster lamps and their lustrous shades . .. the Dresden lamps, for the desk and table ... the Dresden vases and figurines... the china and glass cigaret boxes and ash trays. Uncluttered, too, the fireplace unit. Above the mantel, two simple, graceful, mirrored sconces, and a pair of crystal vases, of Water¬ ford cut, at the sides of the friendly clock. Andirons and fire tools of simple antique brass effect. A dignified three-fold screen. For the radio comer of the room, we found a good bridge lamp, with a shade so well planned that it gives excellent light for reading . . . and all at the proper height and angle. And on the top of the radio as well as on the top of the bookcase, are interesting statuettes. For that "far-off" mood, happily captured by firelight and candlelight, we have pro¬ vided, as a supplement to the hearth, two crystal girandoles, with tall, ivory candles, and the four single crystal candlesticks used on the dining table. On the desk leaf is a generous-sized blotter, a compact leather letter-paper holder, a pen set with two pens, an extra supply of boxes of letter-paper of various sizes, a lamp, and a handset telephone. (Turn the next page and read about hoar this room is lighted for convenience and beauty. A rug cushion gives longer life and resiliency to carpets OCTOBER, 1932 45 TJTERE is lovely Lorraine hunt ' JO. picking at a box of chocolates all alone because her husband's staying down at the office again. It's much too soon for that sort of thing and she de¬ cides to tell Betty Le Bar about it next day at lunch. TN the middle of their Spanish melons ^ their attention is distracted by a couple of well-known debs. One has on a beige outfit with Rose Anger nails. The other is a knockout in dark blue and deep Coral nails. Heaps of allure! But Lorraine thinks her husband would never stand for it. That reminds her. "Let's drop in on him and I'll get some cash for a new hat." private door with Jack's name on it, their eyes get wide. Something new in secretaries. Pound¬ ing the keys with bright Cardinal An¬ ger tips! Is that what's so fascinating about the office? "Hello, Jack dar¬ ling .. M ]CIVE MINUTES later at the near- ** JC est drug store Lorraine is getting —not a new hat—but the latest news about nail polishes. Cutex has 6 lovely shades that go on smoothly and dry in no time. "It's very intriguing to vary them with your costume," the clerk says. "So I notice," murmurs Lorraine. "Give me Rose and Coral and don't bother to wrap them. I'm dashing." a'yOU'VE got them all stopped when JL you want to," he says as they whirl. "You're not such a dumb-bell yourself, darling," says she. Don't let Other Girls be More Alluring • Mail Coupon With 12^ Today NorthamWarren,Dept.2D10,191HudsonSt.,N.Y. \X/HEN the front door clicks that night, Lor- » » raine is wearing Rose nails with a baby blue chiffon. Is John knocked for a goal! He kisses her Angers as if he were an Italian duke instead of a former football star. But soon reverts to form and suggests 46 DELINEATOR WHEN YOU GROW UP, ETHAN, AND GO AWAY FROM THE FARM, I GUESS YOU'LL HANKER AFTER MAPLE SYRUP AS GOOD AS . THIS ! S" YOUR PANCAKES ARE JUST AS GOOD AS MOTHER'S 1 , BUT THE SYRUP -TAKE IT AWAY ! . I'LL MISS MAKING IT UP IN THE SU6AR HOUSE, TOO. mv'how U300D IT TASTES. 1 I WISH I COULD FIND A SYRUP WITH A FLAVOR AS GOOD AS THAT YOU AND YOUR DAD USED \ TO MAKE BACK IN k Vermont! here's just the SYRUP FOR rfcf YOUR HUSBAND, LZm MRS. ELLEN ! Boyhood on a Vermont Farm 15 Years Later in San Francisco The Ethan Ellens have Vermont Breakfasts in San Francisco THE MAPLE SUGAR COUNTRY Try Vermont Maid Syrup. Your grocer has it in handy glass jugs. Be sure you get Vermont Maid—spelled M-A-I-D—with the pretty girl on the Vermont-green label. This velvet-smooth, golden syrup comes from Burlington, Vermont—the heart of the maple sugar country. Penick & Ford, Ltd., Inc., Burling¬ ton, Vermont. Right from the heart of have you any syrup MR. ELLEN WOULD LIKE? j HE'S VERY PARTICULAR. HE'S FROM VERMONT J SAY! THIS IS REAL SYRUP, WHERE DID IT COME FROM? RIGHT FROM VERMONT, ETHAN. IT'S MADE IN BURLINGTON BY VERMONTERS. A BLEND OF PURE CANE AND MAPLE SU6ARS. IT'S jg rzl CALLED _ Vermont FIT ^ H Maid NT Syrup AW Lighting Gives Cheerfulness by GRACE L. PENNOCK DELINEATOR INSTITUTE The lighting and floor plan of the room pictured on pages 24-26 Our ONE-ROOM APARTMENT (shown in this issue) is a cheerful place. Skilful use of light has had a big share in making it so. It is a room that induces a sense of well being. There is the effect of sunlight coming through the window at any time of day or evening. Sunlight itself shines through flesh- tinted glass curtains by day. Artificial light comes from the same position by night, giv¬ ing a lighting similar to sunlight to the room, though less in intensity. The mechanics of this lighting are simple. There is but one long window to consider. The window frame itself runs to the ceiling. The wide cornice which runs around the en¬ tire room continues over the window space in front of the frame. Thus a pocket is formed in back of this cornice where the receptacles for the light are concealed. A special metal trough is fastened in this pocket. The receptacles for the lamps and the necessary wires are all lodged in this metal casing. Tubular lamps are used—twenty-five-watt lamps eight inches apart, taking fifteen for the entire available window width. The tai¬ lored valance which drops below the cornice is lined with white to add to the amount of light reflected. Lightly tinted glass curtains over the windows color and soften the light as it shines over and through them. The light from this window furnishes ample illumination for the dining table. Lamps and wall brackets furnish additional light throughout the room. Table lamps at either end of the couch provide light here, and for the chair at the end of the couch. The lamps themselves are tall, have light-colored, wide-spreading shades and provide a wide circle of light about themselves. There are two forty-watt bulbs in each lamp. A bridge lamp back of the comfortable chair in one corner of the room provides ade¬ quate lighting at this point. The lamp at the built-in desk has a light-colored shade, yet one which affords soft diffusion of the light. It provides ample, comfortable light for either reading or writing. Wall brackets with white parchment shades add a good bit of light to the room. The white ceiling and light walls reflect back light from all the lamps and wall brack¬ ets, making brightness enough for cards and general conversation at any point. In addi¬ tion to ample light, there is that definite at¬ mosphere of cheerfulness which makes this a good room to live in, twenty-four-hours-a-day. A LITTLE CAP FOR ANGEL Continued from page 19 And so it was that Juanita could sing as she swept the dirt floor. Not only was she to be a bride, with a white dress and a fine wedding—a distinction seldom achieved in the little parish of the beggars—but there would be much money. And there was no need to wait to be happy, for there was Pedro, whose strong arms and warm lips blotted out all the cold and hunger of the present. She said nothing to her mother of her com¬ promise with happiness. Paz might tell Padre Dominguez, and the priest mustn't know—Juanita knew he mustn't, with an in¬ tuitive prudence. A beloved, but awe-inspiring man was Padre Dominguez, with his snow-white hair, wrinkled brown face and sharp, all-seeing eyes. There was very little he did not dis¬ cover and he controlled his strange little flock with an undisputed authority. Health officers, truant officers, blue-coated police¬ men in the enforcement of law and order, gave up in hopeless disgust. The parish was bounded on the east by disclaiming shrugs, on the west by impeccable alibis, on the north by all the detachable belongings of a careless American city and on the south by the Rio Grande, across which one might wade in three minutes to invulnerable privacy. They were only too glad to relinquish their problems to the efficient hands of the priest. "Si, si, senor," he would agree with grave regret, "if there is a misappropriated dog among my parishioners, it will be discovered. I will find it for you by morning." . The return of a lost dog had long been a simple means of making a few extra dollars, so simple in fact, that it was only necessary to connive with a sociably inclined pet in the fine residence district to induce him to change his home, and then wait for the offer of the reward. But while one might fool the officers with protestations of rightful owner¬ ship, not so Padre Dominguez; he knew even,' pet in his parish. The alien dog would be restored, sans reward, although the padre was curiously unable to produce the thief. The meting of punishment he reserved for himself; it was not for these officers with their angry blue eyes. Later, a dispossessed and temporarily repentant Juan would do a bit of extra penance washing the windows of the Guardian Angel Church, but the matter was between himself and the padre. The priest in Padre Dominguez censured the sins of his flock sternly, with faithful ad¬ herence to the law, but the Mexican in him tempered his discipline with compassionate understanding of his own people— pobrecitos, they were desperate, ignorant children I When a man is starving he may be close to a spiritual God, but he is much closer to a physical devil. PADRE DOMINGUEZ pondered as he tidied up his little church. With his cassock pinned above his knees and a dust cloth fast¬ ened over his white hair, he worked alone. There were no penitents to assist him. It had been a good week, entirely too good for his peace of mind. He inspected the holy water font and the poor box, shaking his head over the empti¬ ness of them both. Abstractedly he filled the font and reaching into a pocket under his cassock he drew out some coins. He looked at them a moment reluctantly. It meant dining on frijoles for a week if they went in, but quin sale how some of his little ones might dine if they didn't. He dropped them into the box. His face brightened as he closed the door behind him, and he crossed the church yard to his own room with a sense of anticipation. His work was done for the day, it was now the hour for the little gorritas —the baby caps. Hurriedly he hghted the lamp and reached behind the bedroom shrine for his battered work-basket. The basket was kept there that it might never tempt him to become remiss in his holy duties. (Turn to page 48) OCTOBER, 1 9 3 2 4 7 / 7hought my Child was Zazy But a sympathetic teacher told me the truth! "An unskimmed wheat cereal," I asked, "what kind of a cereal is that?" And then she told me some facts about cereals that utterly amazed me. I had never dreamed before that there was such a differ¬ ence in cereals. She brought out the most interesting chart* (reproduced at right) which made it perfectly clear to me just why cereals, like milk, must be "unskimmed." The chart also showed that in addition to being "un¬ skimmed," Ralston Wheat Cereal is double rich in those precious yellow parts of wheat which Martha-Jean needed so badly. It's been several months since my visit with Miss Grimes—months that have made an in¬ credible difference in Martha-Jean. She's gained weight—and a seemingly endless store of energy with every pound! Her cheeks are rosy—she bounces out of bed every morn¬ ing—eats her bowl of Ralston with a relish—and hurries off to school—eagerly. Do you wonder that I'm grateful to Ralston Wheat Cereal for the change it made in my child? Her father and I like Ralston, too. It's so easy to prepare—takes only five minutes, and costs so little—less than one cent a dish! These three parts are: 1. BROWN (outer layers) — rich in proteins and minerals needed to build firm flesh, sound teeth, strong bones. 2. WHITE (centers) — starch, which supplies body heat and energy. 3. YELLOW (hearts)-vita- min B—createsnormal appetites. Without vitamin B a child can't have perfect health and growth. To be sure your child's cereal is unskimmed, look for the tiny brown, white and yellow particles. RALSTON HAS ALL THREE P oor little Martha-Jean! I'll never forget how dejectedly she came in that day—two big tears coursing down her cheeks. "Teacher wants to see you," she managed to say be¬ tween sobs. So the next morning we were at Miss Grimes' desk long before school time. Worried and irritated as I was—it was a dis¬ tinct surprise to have the teacher smile as I entered the room. "Good-morning, Mrs. Hall," she said pleasantly—"how nice of you to come so quickly. I'm sure we'll find Martha-Jean's trouble now." "You know, Mrs. Hall," Miss Grimes con¬ tinued, "it isn't like Martha-Jean to be diffi¬ cult in school—yet she seems so inattentive and listless lately that I can't help being con¬ cerned about her." "I'm afraid Martha-Jean is lazy," I con¬ fessed, unwillingly. Miss Grimes shook her head. "No, she isn't lazy. I think this trouble comes from some¬ thing quite different. I've noticed that Martha- Jean is best in the first morning classes—then she seems to droop around 10:30 or 11! That's what made me wonder. Does Martha-Jean eat a hearty breakfast?" "Oh, no! In fact, she eats almost nothing. A little toast and some milk—very rarely she will take a little bacon—or an egg." "No hot cereal?" "We seldom have cereals of any kind." "There's the answer," Miss Grimes cried triumphantly! "That accounts for Martha- Jean's listlessness. She isn't getting enough nourishment to carry her through the morn¬ ing. She really ought to have a bowl of hot whole wheat cereal every day." "I'll buy some cereal on my way home," I said with relief. "Not just 'some cereal', please," Miss Grimes interrupted quickly. "Martha-Jean needs an 'unskimmed'* wheat cereal." plainly 48 DELINEATOR Whose job is it? A LITTLE CAP FOR ANGEL Continued from page 46 -okJiA ot ij&Wi cjtoc&is Really it's up to both of us—to keep you informed about anything better in foods! But your grocer is one of the busiest men we know. If he hasn't already told you about Del Monte Coffee, let us go back of his counter a minute—and give you some of the reasons Del Monte Coffee should please you more than any coffee you've ever tasted. When we set out to add coffee to the Del Monte family of foods, we had a freehand. A new opportunity in coffee! No set ideas—no old-fashioned preju¬ dices about quality or flavor. Just one ideal—to make Del Monte Coffee as outstanding in flavor, as dependable, as every other Del Monte Food. We were able to look over everything the coffee industry knew about produc¬ ing really good coffee—to take advan¬ tage of every last improvement we could find—to create a really "modern coffee for modern tastes." Then we selected the vacuum can. And developed super -vacuum packing— to bring you super-freshness. Try Del Monte Coffee yourself. Buy a pound today. If your own grocer hasn't it in stock, suggest that he get it. Smell its fine aroma—taste its rich, full- bodied flavor. See if here isn't just the coffee you've been trying to find—the coffee you'd expect Del Monte to bring to your table. THE MODERN COFFEE FOR MODERN TASTES DEL The wrinkles in his face crinkled into a deep smile as he fingered the soft wool. He had never been quite sure about the baby caps; his crocheting them seemed a benign and needed charity for the bare little heads they adorned, but his pleasure in the work made him sometimes wonder it it partook of secular joy. He had seen a new pattern that morning, two stitches interlocking in¬ tricate shells that shaped themselves into a hali-moon—or was it three stitches? He gazed at the wool dubiously. He knew he should adhere to the old pattern which had proven so economical with the material. The elaborate beauty of the new one would re¬ quire much wool. But only this one little bonnet he would make entirely to his own satisfaction, and to pay for it he would not touch his needle for a whole week when it was completed. With a sigh of utter content he settled himself in the good chair and chained off the first row of stitches. So complete was his absorption in his work that the hours passed by unnoticed; it was late, very late when he rose at last, stiffly, and replaced the basket behind the statue of Our Lady. As he turned from the shrine he paused and stiffened . . . Shots! And from the direction of the river . . . His face drained of color as he walked to the door and listened intently. There was only silence. With a shaking hand he blessed himself and went back to his chair. He could not go to bed. Not now. The night workers were the most heart¬ breaking of his flock. There his prayers, vigilance and penances had little effect. So much pay, it seemed, for brief moments of risk. It was futile to argue with a hungry man that he was endangering his life, for starvation kills also. He half arose and listened again. The fin¬ gers gripping the chair were white with press¬ ure .. . There they came—the frantically hurrying feet. Madre de Dolores! it was one of his children! "Padre Dominguez! Padre Dominguez!" came the cry as the scurrying feet reached the gate. "Padre Dominguczi Padre Domin¬ guez!" —louder yet as they tore up the walk. And with an anguished readiness Padre Dominguez went to meet them. Juanita fell into the doorway, clutching the priest with frenzied hands. "Pedro—" she gasped—"Pedro—he has been shot-" AND again life went on as usual in the little hut. Paz continued to wash in the homes of the American se floras. Juanita swept the dirt floor, cooked the frijolcs and watched over the little ones. But she no longer sang. Once, in desperation, she went to the priest and told him everything. She knew she had been bad, she had let Pedro take the night job and God had punished her—Pedro was gone. Wasn't that enough? Couldn't God make it stop hurting and let her be happy again? Or was it always going to be like this? "There were two bad things, Juanita." The priest spoke gently but gravely, "and you have paid for only one. You and Pedro broke the laws of men, and men punished you —that was the night job. But what about the happiness you stole when you gave your love to Pedro?" But Juanita was bitterly unconvinced. Loving Pedro was not bad—for how could you steal something you could not see? Patiently Padre Dominguez tried to ex¬ plain; she could see the ceremony which gave the sanction of God, she could see the little certificado which gave the law's approval. Yes, she could see them, the girl agreed with skeptical, impenitent eyes. But the love was hers, she insisted stubbornly, it didn't belong to God, or to men who sold the certificados, it belonged to no one but herself. And she wasn't sorry she had given it to Pedro—she was glad. When she had gone, Padre Dominguez sighed in weary defeat. Weeks passed and when it came to Juanita, at first stupidly, then incredulously, and at last irrefutably, that although Pedro was gone, he had not left her alone, she sought her mother in great bewilderment. Paz was visibly upset over the news. It was terrible for Juanita, Paz bewailed, she was only a child and now she must begin the troubles of a woman. It was terrible for her, too—another mouth to feed and only the Mother of God knew how they managed to "I warned you," she commiserated, "it is always thus with men. If they do not bring you sorrow in one manner, they do in an- "But I did not marry Pedro," Juanita pro¬ tested defensively, "and you said it was mar¬ riage I must avoid if I would stay happy." "Tonta!" Paz spoke in exasperation. "It is not the words the padre says that make the unhappiness, it is the men. Ay Dies! that you could know so little and yet the good God would senchyou a baby!" Immediately Paz's sympathy transferred itself to the baby. Poor little thing, he would need all of her care—bom without a father and with a little mother who knew nothing. But she would be a good grandmother to him, she would make him a warm little soap¬ box bed and, maybe, she could buy him some little dresses. THE more Juanita thought about the com¬ ing of the baby, the better she liked it. A nifiito warm and soft in her arms—the vision filled her with a curious content. It was not like that other happiness, it had no hunger or fears, it had completeness in itself. As for Paz, having exercised her emotions over all the terrible phases of the situation, she was free to enjoy the preparations for the event. The cloth for the little dresses was bought and they were made with much lace from the ten-cent store. A piece of old quilt was found and washed to fine softness for the soap-box bed. The neighborhood attitude over the com¬ ing of Juanita's baby was agreeably casual. They were neither surprised nor shocked, they were merely interested. By twos and threes the women flocked into the little hut to view the tiny face of Juani¬ ta's son. There were murmurs over his size— a magnificent baby—and an entire absence of any criticism concerning his social status. And upon Juanita's face there was the white light of discovery. Each time Paz took the little blanketed bundle and opened it for a fresh audience, her eyes followed it rapturously, yearningly, and she sighed with an ecstatic fulfillment when it was restored to the warm hollow of her arm. She had thought of calling the baby Pedro, but that, Paz warned her, was unlucky since the little one's father had never seen his face. "Then I shall call him Angel," she de¬ cided prudently, "for Pedro has sent me a lit¬ tle angel." It would not do to handicap the nihilo with bad luck, but he would still be named for his father, in a sense. Then, too, the name would please Padre Domin¬ guez—he would think it stood for the Guardian Angel Church—and pleasing the priest was something for which Juanita felt an uneasy need. All the months Padre Dominguez had watched her with his stem, sorrowful eyes. Juanita could not forget that he had said there were two sins—and for one of them she must answer to the good God. She didn't be¬ lieve it. God wasn't going to punish her, for He had sent her a new happiness. But she would feel more assurance in its permanency, with the approval of the priest. When little Angel had two weeks, Juanita made ready for her visit to Padre Dominguez. It was the custom to carry a new baby to the priest and, although no mention was made of expected gifts, the little one was taken with only the blanket tucked over his bare head so that it was easily seen what he needed most. After he had fully admired the baby, the padre always gave him the cap made by his own hands. No one, not even old Sarita, could make such beautiful ones. And it was whispered the cap would do more than keep the baby's head warm. When little Geronimo Gomez had lain mor¬ tally ill and everything else had failed, they had tied his bonnet on his inert little head and he had recovered as if by a miracle. After all, they were made by consecrated hands and it was reasonable to suppose that they carried a special blessing. While Juanita feared that the display of Angel to the priest might appear as a piece of arrogance, since he had prophesied she would be punished, still (Turn to page 51^ OCTOBER, 1932 DELINEATOR VbuR FAMILY VITAMIN Yet science now finds the average American diet lacking in at least 3 important vitamins! Can you afford to miss the safeguard Del Monte offers — on so many tempting everyday foods? Listen for a minute to the testimony of recognized leaders in the field of nutri¬ tion and public health. These authorities definitely state: 1. There is a marked tendency for the average American diet to be deficient in at least three impor¬ tant vitamins—A, C and D. (1) (2) 2. These vitamins, together with mineral salts, are more apt to be lacking than any other food- essentials. (2) 3. Absence of these health-pro¬ moting elements often lays the groundwork for future trouble, without immediate, visible symp¬ toms. (1) Think what these facts mean—to you and every woman building her family's health and future! They do not say that your family is in danger. They do not say that vitamins and mineral salts alone will solve your menu problems. But in the face of such authoritative evidence —who can afford to take the slightest risk that these vital elements are missing? So easy to get Fruits, vegetables and milk are your fin¬ est sources of vitamins and mineral salts. Yet even fruits and vegetables may vary widely in vitamin values. (3) Here is where Del Monte makes its greatest contribution to your planning of healthful meals. Because of the care with which Del Monte Foods are selected, the special care and speed with which they are canned and the way they are cooked, Del Monte protects the vitamins these foods naturally contain. When you buy Del Monte, you know that you are getting the finest fruits and vegetables grown — picked at the right stage of maturity' for proper vitamin de- elopment — protected against s' Yet Del Monte "vitamin costs you nothing extra. At their present low prices, you can enjoy Del Monte Foods just as often as you wish. Best of all, the variety of Del Monte Foods is so wide, so right in line with ' ' is never any f. the right. And remember-there's no change in e familiar Del Monte label. All Del = MONTE 5 0 NUMBER FIVE IN A SERIES OF FRANK TALKS BY LEADING DELINEATOR WOMEN PHYSICIANS "If I could tell the qounq bride but one thinq "IT WOULD BE THIS: Practice feminine antisepsis faithfully and intelli¬ gently . .. with a safe and reliable antiseptic. "This, to my mind, should be the first health commandment to the young bride. "Health is the basis of all happiness in life . . . and particularly marital life. To lose the eager enthu¬ siasm of girlhood shortly after marriage, to grow listless, despondent and irritable under the stern trials and demands of home-making is not only a tragedy to a wife but a doleful catastrophe to her husband. "Yet such is the frequent penalty of neglected marriage hygiene. Those poignant fears and appre¬ hensions, common to women, often grow into serious mental and physical disturbances ... through slovenly inattention to feminine daintiness. "For feminine health and mental serenity, "Lysol" disinfectant has been advocated by the physicians of Europe for nearly half a century. "Lysol" is almost universally used by our obstetricians for the delicate ministrations of childbirth. It is safe, gentle, efficient. It is not merely antiseptic. It is germicidal. Safe¬ guarding the frail or overtired wife from taxations upon her health which all too often she is not physically qualified to meet." (Signed) DR. NELLY STERN Dr. Nelly Stern. Awarded her medical degree at the University of Vienna; considered leading gynecologist at the world famous women's spa of Franzensbad in Czechoslovakia. Author of a book entitled "Hygiene und Diatetik der Frau" (Woman's Hygiene and Dietetics). Have you a young married daughter or friend who should know these facts? For your own guidance, as well as for the enlightenment of any girl or woman who is near and dear to you... may we send you a copy of our interesting brochure—"The Facts About Feminine Hygiene"? Written by a woman physician, it handles the vital subject of marriage hygiene with rare delicacy and charm. Merely mail the coupon, and your copy will be sent, postpaid, in plain wrapper. LEHN & FINK, Inc., Bloomfield, N. J. Dept. A-lo Sole Distributors of "Lysol" disinfectant Please send me free,postpaid, a copy of "The Facts About Feminine Hygiene". Street - Gty - State. OCTOBER, 19 32 5 1 A LITTLE CAP FOR ANGEL Continued from page 48 —a milium mothers /had Aomethivuj to tell ijoii WOULD YOU LISTEN ? it might serve to convince him that she was right. In any event, she must take no chances. As quickly as possible, Angel must have the protection of the blessed bonnet. Padre Dominguez was expecting the visit from Juanita. He had looked over the con¬ tents of the battered work-basket, gazing long and speculatively at his most elaborate cap—all babies needed caps, he argued weakly —then he shook his head and put it away with considerable depression. But when Juanita came, he admitted her with a cheer- "Good afternoon, Padre," she breathed, looking up uncertainly, then down at the bundle in her arms. "It is my little Angel. He has two weeks and I have brought him for In the good chair, beside the window, Padre Dominguez examined his newest parishioner with entire absorption. Ah, que bonitot he exclaimed over the little brown face and the aimlessly flapping fists—a beautiful baby! But when he had bestowed his blessing, lie tucked the blankets in place and returned Angel, capless, to Juanita. She took him and waited, her eyes expec¬ tant, questioning. "Is there something you wish?" the padre mqmre flushed and looked down—it wasn't polite to ask for it, but apparent!}- he had forgotten. "You give a little cap to babies?" she suggested hopefully. "Sometimes I do. I am very sorry I can¬ not give one to Angel." Juanita clutched the baby. "Do you not have any?" she demanded in sharp appre¬ hension. "Yes, I have some—but not for him." As he spoke, Padre Dominguez removed his gaze firmly from the little black head nuz¬ zling in the blankets. Angel, he explained, had broken a law and he must be punished. Juanita stared and her face paled slowly. What law could Angel have broken? He had done nothing but be born. "You and Pedro," the priest reminded her gravely, "took a love that did not belong to you and in taking it you obliged Angel, also, to steal." Then Juanita's agitation became terrible; she gripped the bundle and her eyes were big and shining with fear. It wasn't true, she cried in anguished defiance, she had taken nothing that was not her own. But even if she had—her gaze sought the padre's implor¬ ingly—what had little Angel acquired that did not belong to him? "Angel—" Padre Dominguez said it sternly—"acquired life." There was a long silence in the little room. Automatically Juanita adjusted the covers about the baby and pulled her rebozo over her hair with a shaking hand. Again her eyes sought the priest's but he was not look¬ ing at her now, his gaze was fixed on the corner shrine that hid the work-basket. Blindly she turned and stumbled to the door. THERE was great excitement in the neigh¬ borhood when the scandal spread about that Padre Dominguez had not given a little cap to Angel. It was old Sarita who dis¬ covered it first, when she stopped the girl on her way home, wishing to inspect the padre's stitches with a jealous eye. But Juanita had held the blankets shut. No, Angel had no cap. The padre had not given him one. Why, she didn't know. That was all she would say. But it was not all the neighbors said. Por Dios! they exclaimed, the priest had con¬ demned the little one! And knowing Padre Dominguez, there must be just cause. It was certain the priest would not have slighted Angel unless he had found in him some evil-doing. At once the whole parish held Juanita's baby under suspicion. The mere fact that they could find no wrong in him themselves made it all the more necessary to shun him lor his unknown and mysterious guilt. There were even whispers that the padre, as a holy man, might have recognized Angei to be ac¬ cursed—the offspring of an evil spirit. There were no more admiring callers in the hut. When Juanita had occasion to pass on her way to the store they stared after her with furtive curiosity. One night Juanita lay awake, gazing into the darkness with angry eyes. She wouldn't have it, she told herself fiercely. Angel had done nothing and she would not let him be punished this way. He should have his little cap and she would get it for him, herself. The next morning she went to the city em¬ ployment bureau where the American scfiorila found patrons for the women who did washing. On the following Sunday she made her way to church, carrying her son in her arms, his head uncovered boldly—on it was a magnificent bonnet with satin bows. But Angel's purchased grandeur did noth¬ ing to restore him to favor. Padre Dom¬ inguez had not made the cap—anyone could see that with half an eye. Sl.OWLY, bitterly it came to Juanita that her son was condemned to be a social out¬ cast. Desperately she reflected she might • take little Angel and run away to some place where his shame could be hidden. But that would not help much, he would still be de¬ nied the blessing and the protection from evil that only the little cap could bring him. Par into the night she pondered this. It was not Angel's fault, it was her own. She had made him a thief because she had not had the wedding. But there must be some way she could undo it. You could always pay for things you had stolen, Padre Dominguez had said so many times. Two weeks passed. It was late on Satur¬ day afternoon. Padre Dominguez had fin¬ ished tidying his church with the assistance of big Salvador, who was doing a penance over some light fixtures which had unaccount¬ ably found their way from a vacant house to his hut. The priest had lighted the lamp and was so deep in the intricacies ot a new stitch he did not hear the timid knock. A soft step roused him and he looked up. It was Juanita with the baby in her arms. "I saw the light—" she stammered. "I had to come in." The padre listened while she told him the story of Angel's ostracism. It took a long time, for she was obliged to pause so often and wipe her eyes. The shuns, the snubs, no one would even look at him. The days she had spent over the washtubs that he might have a fine cap and be admired like other babies. But it was no use. Nothing would do any good without the padre's cap. At any minute he might fall ill.. . Her voice trailed off despairingly. Padre Dominguez had leaned on the chair arm, his hand shading his eyes as she talked. Now he spoke quietly: "And what do you want me to do, Juanita? A sin is a sin. I cannot sanction it." Hastily the girl dried her eyes and fumbled in her dress. She extended a piece ot paper to the priest and he read it with dazed eyes. It was a certificate of marriage for Pedro Oritz and Juanita Pinon, issued that day. "I bought it," she explained eagerly. "It is what the law says babies must have to be bom without stealing, isn't it? I don't want Angel to be a thief. I want him to be like other babies. I thought if I paid the men who sell the certificados, maybe you could tell me some way I could pay Die rest to God." "And how—" the priest paused and stead¬ ied his voice—"how do you feel about having given your love without it?" Juanita looked at the blanketed bundle, then into the eyes that held and probed. "I'm sorr>" I hurt Angel," she faltered, "but I'm glad I have him. I can't be sorry— about that." With a sob she hid her face in the baby's blankets. There was a long silence. Then Padre Dominguez turned and fumbled in the bat¬ tered work-basket. Betore Juanita could dry her eyes to see what was happening, he had taken Angel and was seated in the good chair, adjusting the little cap. Speechlessly Juanita took Angel and hugged him, blessed bonnet and all, to her breast. Had re de Dios' he was forgiven! Her eyes were shining as she started for the door. But abruptly she turned back. "Padre Dominguez, how can I pay the rest—the part I owe the good God for what I stole? What does He want me to do?" "He wants you," the priest said sol¬ emnly, "to promise me that you will never give your love again without His blessing." And Juanita bowed her head and promised. A mother who has watched over her baby . . day after day . . night after night . . thrilling to his every little gain . . anxious about his smallest distress or set-back. .Who can talk to you more understandingly than she? If a million such mothers could sit down with you now and tell you of their experience with a remarkable baby food—would you be interested? Today, there are many more than a million mothers who could tell you gladly, convincingly, of the wonderful things thatEagleBrandMilkhasdone. Year after year, by hundreds, by thousands, they write to The Borden Company to tell their dramatic human stories. They tell of babies who grew and gained and flourished on Eagle Brand, with never a set-back. They tell of babies who have won blue ribbons and silver cups at baby shows. They tell of babies—once failing, starving, because they could not digest other foods—brought back to full health and strength by Eagle Brand. And often, they tell of handsome, healthy grown¬ up sons and daughters raised on Eagle Brand, and now giving this same food to their babies. These are the things that other mothers have to tell you. If you are perplexed or worried about the feed¬ ing of your own baby—or a baby dear to you—these are important things for you to know. FREE — Helpful baby book for you. Report of scientific feeding test for your doctor Mail the coupon below for "Baby's Welfare"—containing feeding instruc¬ tions and directions for general care; also histories and pictures of Eagle Brand Babies. We will gladly send your physician a report of a recent scientific feeding test of Eagle Brand. Your grocer sells Eagle Brand—feeding in¬ structions on the label. DELINEATOR 5 2 Continued from page 34 disintegrate; and then again before you go to bed. It will do wonders—really it will; the narrow end up about eighteen inches, broad end on the floor; feet on the narrow end and your head on a pillow on the floor. It's for relaxation and freshening. If you are over thirty, you do all these same things and then use astringent under your chin—all along clear up to the ears. Pat it in with your cotton pad! It's for firmness and to contract the skin, which has a tendency to grow flabby. If your throat is too thin, always apply a nourishing cream for ten minutes before your astringent patting; if it is too fat, apply an intermediate or cold cream. And whatever the throat, use a circu¬ lation cream or ointment two or three times a week, applying exactly according to direc¬ tions. After removing it, apply the nourish¬ ing cream for the too-thin or normal, and a cold cream for the too-fat. IF your skin is dry, apply a thin film of nourishing cream or a facial oil all over face and throat and leave on while you are getting ready for bed and while you read that one verse or paragraph or many verses and para¬ graphs from some book—or from your mind —that helps your spirit to meet life victori¬ ously and serenely. So you take into sleep peace and security. It's good for a face. If you put on a nourishing cream at night, you can't, of course, put on a pore cream. If your skin is extremely dry, leave a trace of nourishing cream on all night; if not, wipe it off at the end of the half hour of getting ready for bed. Skin tonic, after cleansing with cream or after an application of nourishing cream, will remove the surface oil and refine the pores. A mask two or three times a week, made of pore cream and muscle oil, will help keep the pores fine. Oily skins can put the pore cream on at night and can also use astringent during the day to save their tex¬ ture alive and whole. Cold water rinse in the morning, dashed against the face with the two hands making a cup, or held against the face with a dripping wash-cloth, so cold it makes your hands ache, is a fine morning treatment for everybody; it refines the texture, keeps the circulation lively, and brings up your color. If you know what your skin needs and use those things faithfully, you don't need a lot of extras—only professional beauties have time to use all the lovely things there are. All of you should faithfully exercise in the morning and remember always that all ex¬ ercise is for relaxation as much as for up¬ building. Relax completely by stretching before you begin; relax after every exercise— as loose as a rag doll. When you feel tense, nervous, tight in the neck and shoulders, go limp mentally. Then with your hands, knead the back of your neck and shoulders, then drop the head forward until the chin rests on the chest, then drop it way back and let your mouth drop open as it drops back. Do this several times. Wiggle your shoulders all around. Drop your head from side to side, roll the head around gently. Tenseness makes one look old almost sooner than any other one thing. Shut your eyes several times a day —they work so constantly—feel the little nerves around them relax, mentally see deep, velvety black. And every night and morning bathe your eyes with boracic acid solution, or mild salt water, or an eye bath. Neither of you ever must use powder that is lighter than your skin—that's one of the sins of grooming—it rubs off in little, tricky places, corners of the mouth and so on, and makes you look an unclean, whited you- know-what. Under-thirties please do not use much vanishing or foundation cream—unless oily-skinned. There are beautiful powders that stick even though they are feathery— one special one that has all the clinging virtue of a burr combined with the lovely color and lightness of tinted swansdown. Over-thirty may use foundation creams but always the thinnest possible film. And everybody use hand lotion after each wetting of the hands and give the hands nourishing cream at night and a little fragrant oil around the cuticles. No hair can be beautiful that isn't brushed. Make a habit of brushing your hair while you think out things. You both want simplicity and results. You can have them. Find your own program from these routines I have outlined for you. Is that so much for beauty? Most of these things you can do while you are doing something else. Stick to them, and have faith. Faith, like everything else, grows by exercise. Try it. Then add a little glamour—and try out that prayer—it isn't such a bad prayer— "Help me to see like lightning and be seen like light." Light is so needed. Has your skin been exposed to summer sun? Read "Autumn Faces Come to Town," a Beauty Institute article, page 73 it is ready for you to sip and to aooreciate. Aged flavor is mellow flavor—the distinctive taste in Clicquot. Are you enjoying it? That EXTRA Something: Finest of real fruit flavorings . True Jamaica ginger root . Mellowed and ripened by Time . Pure refined sugar . Sparkling, crystal-clear water . Bottled in brand-new bottles. BLUE MEADOWS Continued from page 13 slope to the bay. From the hilltop, Good- haven's scattered gray roofs might be shock troops—the land's first line of defense against the marauding sea. The hill itself has long been known as Treasure Hill, and the top of it—as well as the land dropping down the northern side— is part of the twenty-odd acres which com¬ prise the Tay holding. No one knows how long the Tays have held the land, although there is a rumor that the first man of that name to reach the New World built a house here in 1630. There have always been Tays here, Goodhaven people will tell you. Now only two brothers were left, Mereen and Manuel. Both members of the Valhalla's crew, they went fishing only when the need to earn a little money for food became acute. The rest of the time they dug the hilltop for buried gold. All the Tays had dug the hill for treasure. Old Ezekiel Tay, father of Mereen and Man¬ uel, had mortgaged the land to buy tools for digging and always had sunk into the work any money he might earn or could borrow. His reward was one battered coin, dug up the year before his death, dated 1721 and bearing the inscription, " Georgius die gratia Rex." The coin, mounted on red plush and se¬ cured behind glass in a heavy old walnut frame, hung thereafter in the place of honor in the Tay kitchen—a silent and visible proof the Tays knew what they were doing. No Tay had ever doubted that he would one day unearth the treasure. Didn't it stand to reason that all you had to do was dig until you struck the spot where it lay? Wasn't it a known fact that pirates had come ashore to bury stolen treasure at half a hundred places along the New England coast? Hadn't Mor¬ gan plied these waters? And Captain Kidd? And "Blackbeard" Teach as well? The Tays, Mereen and Manuel, were mild little men, who might have been any age from thirty to fifty. Actually they were thirty- two and thirty-four years old. Neither had married. Mereen, the elder, had for ten years kept company with Hagar Caton, but she finally grew tired of waiting for him and ran off to marry a fish packer down Portland way. Mereen would sometimes talk mournfully of the good chance Hagar had thrown away— "For one o' these days I'll be ridin' around in a shiny buggy, with a pair of high-steppers in front of it. good clothes ( Turn to page 54) The time it takes to perfect the flavor of Clicquot Club Ginger Ale is not wasted. Indeed not! No hurried process could possibly accomplish the purpose. So choicest ingredients are AGED 6 MONTHS to ripen and mature while blending. Then, and only then, sugar and sparkling water are added. And at last OC I <» H KR, 1 9 3 2 New Antiseptic-Endorsed by these Hospitals WOMAN'S HOSPITAL OF BALTIMORE • WASHINGTON, D. C., EMERGENCY HOSPITAL • NEW ENGLAND MEDICAL CENTER THE NEW YORK INFIRMARY FOR WOMEN AND CHILDREN • LYING-IN HOSPITAL OF CHICAGO j ...You get large si*e for ! sa fely dilute safe M ORE and more hospitals are using Hexvlresorcinol Solution S. T. 37 ( i:iooo) to safeguard the lives of those in their care—for gargling, for the cleansing of wounds and in operations. Because it is so effective, yet safe and non¬ irritating to the most tender and delicate membranes. The Washington Emergency Hospital and the Children's Division of the New England Medical Center use it in hundreds of nose and throat cases where frequent irrigation of inflamed membranes is necessary. The Woman's Hospital of Baltimore uses The IVOman's Hospital of Baltimore and effective—use it at home it "throughout the hospital for antiseptic purposes." This antiseptic does not sting or burn ... its gentleness makes it especially valuable in hospitals for women and children. Recommended by hospital for home use —does not sting or burn . . . The New York Infirmary for Women and Children says, "When patients leave the hos¬ pital we suggest that they keep this new, safe, reassuring antiseptic in their home medicine cabinet." Use Hexylresorcinol Solu¬ tion S. T. 37 twice daily as a mouth wash and gargle, whenever the throat is irri¬ tated. Tests show that its active ingredient is 70 times IIEXYLRE S ORCINOL SOLUTION S.T.3 7 more powerful than carbolic acid in germ-killing power, yet this Solution is pleasant to the taste and entirely safe, even if swallowed! Use it your¬ self and teach your child to use it freely. As a gar¬ gle. And for every scratch and cut. The Seal of the Council on Pharmacy and Chem¬ istry of the American Medical Association, which appears on this page, should serve as an indication of its trustworthiness. Buy a bottle of Hexylresorcinol Solution S. T. 37 today. At all druggists in the United States and Canada at the new price reductions. MAIL COUPON TODAY SHARP & DOHME, Dep]t. C -3 640 NORTH BROAD STREET, PHILADELPHIA, PA. I enclose 10* in stamps, to cover cost of mailing and handling, for which please send me a generous-sized complimentary clinical package of Hexvlresorcinol Solution S. T." 37. Name_ Address_ DELINEATOR 5 4 LET HIM SPEAK FOR HIMSELF! "I gotta nuvver toof!" pleases far-away rela¬ tives and costs little Let His Highness, the Baby, tell the world about himself — over your home telephone. Grand¬ parents and family friends who are too far away to see him will he delighted to hear him. As he grows up and goes away to school or camp — to business •—keep in quick, personal touch with him by telephone. Remem¬ ber his birthday and anniver¬ saries. There's a deep, lasting pleasure in such constant con¬ tacts, and the cost is quite small. The day station-to-station rate for such calls is about 25c for 25 miles 40c for 45 miles 75c for 125 miles 95c for 175 miles Many evening and night rates are loiver. Where the charge is 50 cents or more, federal tax applies. BLUE MEADOWS Continued from page 52 on my back and pockets jest bulgin' with gold! Guess then she'll wish she'd a had more faith." The brothers looked alike; both of them thin to the point of emaciation, both with colorless eyes that blinked in the sunlight and colorless hair that was continuously in need of cutting. They took turns at all tasks, pre¬ paring meals, setting and hauling the few lobster traps they possessed, or going out for a trip with the Valhalla. The one who was not busy with these occupations had to dig— and to render a faithful account of his findings. Before her baby was born, Abigail Bickers would occasionally go up to watch Mereen or Manuel at work. If she had to walk, the path up Treasure Hill was as good as any other place. Besides, it was vaguely comforting to watch earth being dug and men struggling with the soil. Her father, Henry Hosmer, was always digging at something—hilling up potatoes, turning over new ground or pitting turnips for winter use. Here in Goodhaven, she thought resent¬ fully, a body almost forgot how nice it was to look out across a field of young oats, or watch a row of potatoes that had just come into flower. Nothing to see here but the same gray rocks, the same endless stretch of water. And water hadn't any growth to it. If it lived at all, it was like some evil wild thing—wait¬ ing to pounce on you, smother you in foam. Since the birth of her child, Abigail's re¬ sentment against her surroundings had deepened. Her thoughts scurried round and round the situation in which she found her¬ self, seeking some way of escape but finding none. Then she would rage, bitterly and silently, at her husband's stubbornness, his indifference to her wishes. Pretending to be so good to her, and yet not doing the one thing she really wanted! Before you were married, a man came speaking soft and gentle, but after you married him, and tried to have things just a little your own way, how different everything was! SHE tried one day to say something of what was in her mind to Uncle Daniel Hosmer, but the old man stared at her disapprovingly. "Well," he retorted grimly, "ye married Lige, didn't ye? What fer did ye do it? Think ye could make a farmer out o' him?" "Yes, I did," she returned, stung by his skepticism into explanations. "Farming's sensible! It's a decent way to live, and that's more'n can be said of this. Besides, when you've got money in land it's there, not tied up in a vessel that'll mebbe sink-" The old man studied her a few moments in silence, exasperated tolerance in his gaze. "I s'pose ye can't help bein' the way ye air," he said, at length. "God made ye— though I don't aim to fault him in sayin' it. But the hull trouble, Abby, is jest this— you're land, and Lige is sea. They don't mix. Never have and never will." "Mebbe not," she said coldly, rising to go, "but I can tell you one tiling: some time there won't be no more sea. There's Bible for them words!" "Say you so? Well, I won't be livin' when that time comes—and you won't neither. So if I was in your place, I wouldn't take to leanin' on them words too heavy." Uncle Dan'l's argument came drifting back to Abigail's mind one sunny afternoon as she sat watching Mereen Tay at work— "Don't lean on them words too heavy." Still, it was Bible promises, written out there plain as plain. It had to come true—some time. She tried to visualize it: water and vessels and fish and the drowned hulks of dead ships, all gone—gone like fog before a shore-wind. Nothing left but earth, solid earth that a body could depend on . . . "and there shall be If her son had been born, she could have laughed at the sea. He would have grown up hating it, she would have seen to that, hating it and getting away from it just as soon as he could ... But he would never be hers now, never he in her arms and look up, laughing, into her face. He w.as only a dream God had sent— and then taken back. Punishing her, most likely, for marrying Lige, for yoking herself with an unbeliever . . . Things like that happened, happened all the time. If you did one thing God didn't like, you had to pay for it—pay as long as you lived. Look at these people here— digging for something God didn't mean them "How long you been working?" she asked abruptly. "How long have you been digging here, lookin' for gold?" Mereen blinked up at her, startled. She had been silent for so long a time that he had forgotten she was there. "Diggin'? Why—ever sense I've been big enough." "And you don't never misdoubt?" she per¬ sisted. "You think you're going to find treasure that's been hid?" "Why, sure we will!" he returned indig¬ nantly. "Stands to reason! Ain't you seen the coin Pa dug up? Don't ye s'pose there's more where that came from?" "There don't have to be—not that I can see." Mereen shook his head pityingly. "THAT'S because ye don't know. Folks from away ain't got the first notion—why, this here coast is jest alive with gold! Buried it up and down the hull place, them pirates did." "Well, I've been here a good many days and you haven't dug up anything yet." "That's so, and you'll mebbe be settin' up there the very day my shovel hits wood. D'ye mind what that'll be? The chest!" Abigail looked skeptically at him but did not speak, and after a moment's pause Mereen went on: "It'll be filled, right clean to the top, with gold. And jewels they took offen captive females. But I ain't judgin' 'em none for such doin's. Them pirates knowed, well as anybody else, that wimmen-folks is tricky. Take Hagar! Why, if she'd a been the woman she ought—" he shook his head mournfully at the memory of her delinquency—"I'd a give her some o' them jewels to wear. But now I'm aimin' to sell the hull lot." Abigail said thoughtfully: "All that gold and the jewels you're looking to find—they was fetched in from sea, wasn't they?" "Sure they was." Mereen straightened his weary back, scrambled out of the hole and sat down to fill his pipe. "Got kind of a finicky back today. I'll rest it one pipeful and get at it again." "It was all took offen ships' passengers, wasn't it?" Abigail persisted. "Yes, most of it." "Then there's blood on it!" she said fiercely. "Just like everything else that's out of salt water! And even if you do find it, that treasure'll never fetch you a mite of luck. I know! You can dig and sweat all you've a mind to—but what's here'll stay here, or it'll fetch a curse on them that disturbs it. It's jot to stay till the sea gives up its dead. There's Bible for that!" "Is there, now?" He peered at her dis¬ trustfully. "Well, mebbe so, and then again, mebbe not. If we wa'n't meant to find the treasure, why was Pa let dig up that gold- piece? Tell me that!" "It's Bible," she returned, more calmly. "I've been reading it and 1 know." "Oh, do ye? Well, mebbe I know some¬ thing too." His voice was sharp with suspi¬ cion. "Mebbe I know folks that has it in the back o' their minds to buy this land, and then dig up the treasure for their ownselves! It ain't the cap'n, and I ain't namin' no names, butitw/g/il be somebody close to him." "If you mean me," Abigail said carelessly, "you can make your mind easy. I wouldn't have the place—not if it was give to me." "Nobody's goin' to do that," he returned. "You nor nobody else'll ever get this hill. Me and Manuel, we aim to dig jest as long as we got strength to turn a spade. When that day's over and it's time for us to go—well, this hill goes too! I ain't sayin'when nor how. But it'll happen, if so be we ain't come on the treasure afore we're too old to dig any more." He paused, then went on in a calmer voice: "That time's a long way off yet. Till then, this is our land and we aim to keep on diggin'." WHEN Captain Bickers returned from his next fishing trip, there was a letter waiting for him. Abigail had written: I've just had word Pa's passed a' king the baby and going home fo g. It will be on Thursday. If yo get home If you do not get back before can figure that 1 will be back burying is over and 1 can ha my brother Henry and find ou to do about the place. Your afl rish you would Thursday, you ive a talk witli fee. wife, She had said nothing about Uncle Dan'l, and Lige wondered if the old man had gone with her. Better find out, then take the stage, which left at two o'clock. Have to find if a train from Bath would take him anywhere near Prout's Corners. There'd likely be one some time this afternoon. Uncle Dan'l was sitting in a rocking-chair on his porch, the rheumatic leg eased across another chair. "Hello, Lige!" he chirped. "Kind o' figgered ye'd be down. Did Abby leave word about what happened?" "Yes, and I come to see if you feel like goin' along with me." "Me? No, sir!" Uncle Dan'l shook his head with great decision. "Buryin' ain't in my line. 'Course Henry was my own brother, but we never had no dealin' to speak of. Reckon he'll lay jest as easy if I ain't there to see him put under sod." "Well, then, I'd best be movin' along." "Wait a minute!" Uncle Dan'l said abrupt¬ ly. "Don't be in sich a rush. I just wanted to say that ye'll mebbe save yourself bother by not goin'. Buryin's fetch out things in folks —things that's better hid." "What d'ye mean, Uncle Dan'l? What do they fetch out?" "Things!" he nodded solemnly. "Take Abby now, and young Henry. They're peace¬ able-actin' toward one another most of the time, but I'll bet soon as their Pa's laid away them two'll be at one another, hammer and tongs! Tryin' to see who'll have what's left. That's one o' the reasons I'm stayin' here." "But they don't need to do that," the younger man said quickly. "I've got plenty for Abby and me." "Mebbe so—but it ain't the needin'. It's the way folks is made, I guess—ornery-like. And Abby's crazy about land. She'll stick and hang for her share of it, see if she don't." Captain Bickers' eyes grew troubled. "I know she likes land," he said . slowly. "It makes me wonder, sometimes, if she'll ever get the feel of home-things here. I mean, she walks through the house up yan as if— as if she was company, instead of a woman by her own fire. I us'n't to think about it much. Just kind o' thought it was natur' for a woman to settle down where her man's work was. But now—I don't know." The kindly old eyes rested briefly on Bick¬ ers' downcast face, then turned seaward again. Their owner said thoughtfully: "Some does. But some don't. You and Abby's young yet, and you're both kind of sat. Time'll soften ye both, though, if ye got the patience to wait." "Mebbe that's true, Uncle Dan'l. I get to feelin' sometimes we're wastin' the good years, Abby and me, just pullin' against one another." Bickers rose, reluctant to go. "Guess I'll have to be gettin' along. Ye won't change your mind, Uncle Dan'l?" "No. It's like I said—I don't hold with buryin's." Before he had been in the Hosmer house many hours, Captain Bickers was forced to admit that Uncle Dan'l had ample reason for his dislike of "buryin's." Among fisher people, death is too frequent a visitor for his arrival to be heralded with ceremony, and Lige was not prepared to find the house filled to overflowing and his wife surrounded by sorrowing neighbors. Abigail, looking tall and formidable in her black dress, greeted him perfunctorily and then went back to her whispered colloquy with a group of women who seemed to be stage-managing the affair. All of them spoke in loud whispers and moved around on tiptoe as though fearful of waking the sleeper from his rest. The men, who came from time to time to offer their services, seemed abashed before so much femininity and hurried off in relief as soon as errands had been assigned Bickers decided that he liked the look of young Henry Hosmer—a tall, shy youth who tried, without success, to keep out of every¬ one's way and who was, (Turn to page y6) OCTOBER, 1932 55 Science T N L O Pain is nature's warning that teeth are diseased. The cause of pain is usually decay and an im¬ portant cause of decay is the invisible film on teeth that science calls "Bacterial Plaque" In addition to eating bone¬ forming foods, children to¬ day have the health rays of sunlight given them artifi¬ cially during winter months. DENTINE -PULP GUM Removing film twice a d visiting the dentist twic< year, and eating the pro] foods will give children today far better teeth. £ one has been able to give a universally satisfactory explana¬ tion of just why teeth ache. Only recently has the reason been ascertained. The actual cause of the aching tooth is now believed to be due to gases, formed inside the tooth dur¬ ing the process of de¬ cay, which may or may not be visible to the dentist from the out¬ side. These gases expand and press on the sensitive nerves of the teeth. Dental science answers the question of what leads to toothache by saying that food particles have been per¬ mitted to remain between the teeth and under the gums, to decay. Germs in this decaying food make acids which attack the cement-like structure of the teeth and dissolve out the material between the enamel rods. In short, the tooth aches when the tooth n rotted away, so that only a thin covering for t remains, causing the blood vessels around the to< to swell up and painfully press on the nerve. The germs that cause the decay-producing acids, have a friend in the film-coat, or mucin plaque, which forms on teeth. This film glues the bacteria to the teeth, pro¬ viding a warm shelter for them and also food. Removal of film has therefore become an important problem for dental science. One of the most notable discoveries ih this field was made recently in the labora¬ tories of the Pepsodent Company when a new and revo¬ lutionary cleansing material was developed. The cleans¬ ing and polishing material is the part of any b that does the work. Herein lies the difference the best toothpaste and ordinary brands. Most cl 56 DELINEATOR win 's vote BLUE MEADOWS Continued from page 54 in 42 states! And now Puffed Wheat and Puffed Rice have been made twice as crisp . . . twice as delicious B ECAUSE they taste better." This i is the reason children in 42 states voted Puffed Wheat and Puffed Rice their favorite cereal! Chose them out of 11 ready-to-eat cereals as "the cereals we like best of all." And now Puffed Wheat and Puffed Rice are twice as crisp! For a new process crisps them... crisps them again . . . then hustles them, piping hot, into a new Seal Krisp package. And so they come to your cereal dish as fresh as the moment they were "shot from guns." No other cereal brings you Nature's health grains with every food cell steam-exploded to perfect digestibility. No other cereal brings children nourishing rice and wheat grains in such tempting form. Try the new Puffed Wheat and Puffed Rice. Get them from your grocer. Try Quaker Milk Macaroni. Deli¬ cious flavo- Cooks in 5 to 8 minutes. Amazingly rich in nourishment In spite cf their crisp daintiness, Quaker Puffed Wheat and Puffed Rice are amazingly rich in nourishment. A generous dish of Puffed Wheat or Puffed Rice, with milk or cream and sugar, is greater in energy value than 4 or 5 slices of bacon, a baked potato, or a lamb chop. Serve Puffed Grains for breakfast, lunch or sup¬ per .. . whenever you want substantial nourishment at an economical price. Quaker Puffed Rice and Puffed Wheat obviously, very much in love with Susan Bowker, a plump, black-eyed girl from a neighboring farm. The fact that he was Abigail's husband and so—technically—one of the mourners exempted Lige from the duties assigned the other men. For the rest of that day, and the day following, he sat out on the porch the greater part of the time, wondering if the Spinney boys had remembered to have the Valhalla's mainsail mended, and waiting patiently for the time when he might take Abigail and the baby home. Abigail cried a great deal, although—as her husband now recalled—she had never expressed any great degree of affection for her father during his lifetime. Most of the other women went about their duties with red eyes and compressed lips—cooking a vast amount of food for the supper which would follow the funeral, making crepe armbands for the bearers, and fashioning a voluminous black veil for Abigail. The only ray of light that gleamed dur¬ ing those lugubrious days was supplied by old Ezra Gleet, grandsire of a neighboring family, who sat down on the porch beside I.ige on the day preceding the funeral and opined that he was "kind o' lookin' fer Minnie Jane Haskins to show up at the buryin'." "Who's that?" Bickers asked indifferently. "Minnie Jane? Sakes alive! Ain't you heard?" the old man cackled gleefully. "Lives down the road a piece." He leaned forward, dropping his voice mysteriously. "Her and old Henry ust to be thicker'n thieves till Abby got wind o' what was goin' on and druv Minnie Jane off the place. I cal'late she'll take on consid'able at the buryin'—if she's let." "Don't suppose anybody'll stop her." "Oh, yes, they will!" He pointed the stem of his pipe toward the door back of them. "Abby won't hear to it. Henry would a married Minnie Jane, and stopped all the talk that was goin' around, only Abby wouldn't-" Abigail opened the door just then, gave old Ezra a baleful look, and said to her hus- "I'm takin' Martha in now to see her grandpa. D'you want to come?" "No, I guess not. And I'd rather you didn't take Martha, either." "Why not? It won't do her no hurt." "Things like that—they're bad for young uns. I don't hold with it." "No, nor with nothing else Christian!" she retorted. For a moment she stood, hesitating between the temptation to defy his wishes and the conviction that it might not be wise. Then, putting Martha abruptly down, she went back into the house. The child promptly burst into loud sobs. Bickers, picking up his small daughter, cuddled her against him and began to sing softly: "Oh, the boat's been lowered. And the whale's been struck And lie give one flurry with 1 Never again will-" Melissa Bowker, Susan's mother, came out of the kitchen, her shoes creaking loudly, and whispered: "Don't do that!" "Do what?" "Sing. Itain'tfitteninahouseof mournin '. " Old man Gleet leaned toward him, after Melissa had creaked away, and tapped Bick¬ ers' knee with his pipe. "Ye mark my words," he croaked, "there'll be doin's up to the buryin'—if Minnie Jane gets to come!" THE morning of the funeral broke cold and cheerless. Dank clouds, heavy with Sep¬ tember rain, hung low above the wet fields. The preacher, Brother Amos Quiner, arrived early in a shabby, mud-spattered buckboard drawn by a gaunt sorrel mare. When Abigail introduced her husband to him, he surveyed Bickers' length and breadth with disapproval and said severely' that he was glad to meet Abby's husband and trusted that he was a follower of the Lord. "No, I don't lay claim to that." "I'm sorry to hear it." Brother Quiner's loose mouth folded itself in lines of disap¬ proval. "Still, there's time to repent. You won't be the first lost sheep that's been found and fetched into the fold." "And I ain't—as ye might say—lost," Bickers pointed out mildly, "nor likely to be. Nigh the first thing a fisherman learns is how to take his compass bearin's." Brother Quiner thought best to ignore this remark. He turned to Susan Bowker, who had been standing near them with mouth agape and round, cowlike eyes wide: "We'd best be lookin' over the hymns ye're to play today, Susie." AT eleven o'clock the service at the house began. Brother Quiner took his place at the head of the coffin and solemnly intoned a hymn. Susan pedaled the cottage organ vigorously and led the singing of "On the other side of Jordan." A long prayer followed, in which the virtues of the deceased were itemized and dwelt on until the list would have amazed and be¬ wildered Henry Hosmer, could he have heard it. Another hymn was sung and then the preacher launched into what he called "jest a leetle talk to the dear ones left behind." The talk included a reminder of the short¬ ness of life, the ever-hovering presence of death and the urgent need for everyone to "get right with God" and be prepared, at all times and seasons, to enter into glory. The dissertation passed the half-hour mark with no sign of diminishing fervor, and might have gone on indefinitely had Israel Bowker not in¬ tervened. Treading heavily, he pushed his way across the sitting room to announce in a husky whisper that it was already "nigh to twelve o'clock and folks at the church'll be gettin' tired." After a long interval of waiting, Bickers finally found himself out of doors, grateful for fresh air and free space to breathe it. Abigail, swathed in a heavy crepe veil, clutched at his arm and said fretfully: "Where's the rig we go in—you and me and Henry? It's got to follow right after Brother "It'll be here," he assured her. "Every¬ thing's bein' seen to." The church was a mile distant, along a muddy road that wound dejectedly through scrubby, second-growth timber. It had com¬ menced to rain. As the procession turned in at the church yard, and there was the little stir of making tilings ready for entry, Abigail suddenly clutched at her husband's arm and whispered feverishly: "Let me out!" "What for? It isn't time yet-" "Let me out, I say!" Helping her down as quickly as he could, Bickers became conscious of a tall woman, standing near the hitching shed. He had a glimpse of two burning black eyes, in a sallow, colorless face that was framed by a black shawl. Abigail crossed quickly to the woman and began talking to her in a low voice. He went toward them, wondering uneasily if this could be Minnie Jane. As he neared them, Abigail said in a cold, hard voice: "I don't want you here and you know it!" "Anybody can go to a buryin'," the woman said, in a voice so low that her words were scarcely audible. "Well, you can't. Not to this one." "You're a hard woman, Abby Hosmer," the other returned. She went on in a flat monotone: "I wasn't aimin' to come, not at first, but when it started in to rain—and 1 called to mind how he didn't like wetness—I thought mebbe—mebbe it'd ease him a mite if I was to be here. I ain't meanin' to take on, or make a show of myself-" "I know you ain't and a good reason why! You're goin' back home." "It'd ease him," the woman persisted, her eyes on the coffin that was just then being lifted from the improvised hearse. "He'd feel better, knowin' I was here." "Yes, settin' up in church so as everybody could see you and remember-" "Let her alone, Abby," her husband said quietly. "What call have you got- "I won't let her alone!" Abigail turned on him fiercely. "She never let us alone—not all the time my ma was sick. Sneakin' into "I didn't sneak," Minnie Jane interrupted, with the first faint trace of spirit she had shown. "I took care of your ma the best I knowed how, tended her (Turn to page $8) OCTOBER, 1932 57 WE INVITE Every Mother Of A Nervous Child To Try This Amazing Swiss Food-Discovery Found To Decrease Nervousness 30% In 2 Weeks By Actual Test See For Yourself How Remarkably Ovaltine Can Curb A Child's Nervousness While Adding Weight At The Rate Of A Pound A Week Or More T HIS is probably the most important message ever ad¬ dressed to mothers of children who are nervous—or underweight. For it will acquaint them with a remarkable, scientific way to diminish nervousness in children as much as 30% in two weeks' time. This method of reducing nervousness was recently demon¬ strated in tests conducted among New York school children by an Eastern University scientist. It was accomplished by the daily feeding of a certain natural food-concentrate— a trial supply of which is offered below to every mother of a nervous, underweight child. In the tests mentioned above, 85% of all nervous, under- par children responded almost at once. Those who had previously appeared high-strung and con¬ stantly "on edge'' became noticeably more poised. Nail- biting, restless sleep at night and kindred nervous symp¬ toms were markedly minimized. While new energy and bodily stamina were built up day by day. In some cases, nervousness—as measured by the Olson- University of Minnesota checking system—was reduced as much as 18% in a single week! While these results are obviously of outstanding significance to mothers of nervous children, they are equally important to the mothers of underweight children, too. For child specialists have long observed that underweight and nerv¬ ousness go hand in hand. Thus when a child is given this food-drink he benefits two ways. For it breaks up the "vicious circle" that nervous¬ ness and underweight always tend to create. What It Is The name of this food-drink is Ovaltine. Discovered in Switzerland, it has already been approved by over 20,000 doctors. And its use has spread to 54 different countries. It combats nervousness by supplying calcium to the system. For scientists are more and more realizing that proper cal¬ cium metabolism is vitally important in avoiding nervous irritation. . Ovaltine, too, is particularly rich in anti-neuritic Vitamin B. Another essential element of nerve and brain cells is phos¬ phorus. And Ovaltine supplies this in abundance, and in its easily assimilated food form Lecithin. Increased Strength—Added Weight Other food-elements in Ovaltine build strong bones and muscles. And thus create new strength. Others build firm flesh—in addition to fortifying the nerves. As a result, weight increases of 8 ounces to Iff pounds a week are not at all unusual. For example, a Cleveland woman—Mrs. Charles Winter of 3119 W. 44th Street, reports that her 11 year old daughter gained 5 pounds after taking Ovaltine for only 4 weeks ... And the underweight daughter of Mrs. Wm. R. Turner, 2003 Orthodox Street, Philadelphia, put on weight at the rate of nearly 15 pounds a month! These are only two examples out of hundreds being reported by delighted mothers each week. But they are typical of what Ovaltine can do in the matter of building firm flesh, while curbing nervousness, too. Mail The Coupon Now So if your child is nervous or underweight, try Ovaltine. Disregard the fact that it is endorsed by more than 20,000 doctors and child specialists. Discount, if you wish, the remarkable demonstration of its power to curb nervousness in the tests described above. But try it and see for yourself what it can do for your child! Give Ovaltine at breakfast always —at meals and between meals. You simply serve it mixed with milk (either hot or cold) and you'll find that even the fussiest child can't resist its delicious taste. You can get Ovaltine at any drug or grocery store. Or—to acquaint you with it, we urge you to accept the generous trial supply that is offered here. It may mean a turning point in your child's life—may almost literally "make him over" in just a few weeks' time. So clip the coupon now— and mail it today. NOTE: Thousands of nervous people, men and women, are using Ovaltine to restore vitality when fatigued. During the World War it was made a standard ration for rebuilding invalid, nerve-shattered soldiers. It is also highly recom¬ mended by physicians for sleeplessness and as a strengthen- ing food for nursing mothers, convalescents, and the aged. MAIL FOR SAMPLE PACKAGE The Wander Co., 180 N. Michigan Ave., Chicago, Ill. Dept. 20-F Send me your sample pack¬ age of Ovaltine. I enclose and mailing. (Or 25c for special oiler at right.) SPEC1AI. OFFER (These offers go >od in U. S. A. only) (Please print m rme and address clearly) OV/ILTIN E g7 "he Swiss Food - Drinks BLUE MEADOWS Southern Spicy Gingerbread 2 eggs - cup brown .sugar —% . cup Brer Rabbit Mola — % cup melted shortening — cups flour—2 stly the hot wat< i a shallow pan P eetty little Mrs. Jones, popular new member of the Bridge Club, was be¬ ginning to feel scared at the idea of enter¬ taining the members at her house. Such elaborate food as those women served! What showing could she make? On Bill's salary! Thinking of Bill, and "what to eat" brought her back onto familiar ground— gave her the answer to this Bridge Club menu problem. A nice fruit salad, with cheese crackers and coffee, and then—why Bill's favorite dessert, of course—ginger¬ bread! For little Mrs. Jones was clever as well as pretty. She knew how to make a ginger¬ bread tender and tempting—golden- brown, and utterly delicious. For its pungent-, spicy flavor she used Brer Rabbit Molasses — old-time New Orleans molasses with a gorgeous tang. Simple, but oh, so appetizing! Easy and inexpensive— perfect, Mrs. Jones decided. Brer Rabbit has that delicious, distinctive flavor because it is made from the very cream of fresh-crushed sugar cane juice. It is made in two grades: Gold Label— the highest quality light molasses for fancy cookery, delicious on pancakes; Green Label —a rich, full-flavored dark molasses. Try Brer Rabbit Gingerbread when you want an economical but especially appe¬ tizing treat. "Perfect!" echoed the other members of the Bridge Club, a few weeks later, at Mrs. Jones' house. "Simply marvelous ginger¬ bread, my dear." "However do you make it?" "The best idea yet!" ... So that she said to Bill that evening: "That ginger¬ bread was the best bridge partner ever!" Brer Rabbit IN TWO GRADES New Edition Brer Rabbit Recipe Booklet Continued from page 56 and nursed her and done all I could. It wasn't my fault if—if—" She began to cry, slow, dreadful tears. "It'd ease him," she repeated drearily, "if he knowed I was here." "You get out of this yard!" Abigail took a threatening step forward, and Minnie Jane turned slowly toward the gate. "Abby, that was—" Bickers began, but just then Melissa Bowker ambled toward them, whispering hoarsely: "Come on, Abby! They're waitin' for The bearers, six muscular farmers, were already halfway up the aisle, going slowly toward the place where trestles waited to re¬ ceive their burden. SEPTEMBER dusk had fallen before the funeral meal had been eaten, dishes cleared away, the kitchen "redd up" and the last guest gone. Only Susan Bowker remained. Her father had suggested it would be best for her to ride home with him and her mother, but Henry intervened. "I'd like to have Susie stay for a while," he said. "Me and Abby, we've got things to talk over and I'd like Susie to be here. I'll fetch her home in good time." Now, the chores done and wood box heaped high, they sat—Henry, Susan, Abigail and her husband—watching the red glow from the cook-stove play across whitewashed walls, each thinking of the day just ended and of the work that lay ahead. The men smoked. Susan, her docile eyes fixed adoringly on Henry, held the cat in her lap, stroking its yellow fur. Only Abigail sat bolt upright, her unspoken impatience quiver¬ ing in the quiet room. "Henry," she said, when the silence became unendurable to her, "it looks like this is as good a time as any to talk. Lige and me— we'll have to be goin' home tomorrow." "There's no hurry," her brother returned. "You're welcome to stay and visit, long as you like." "I know, but Lige has to get back—and I've got plenty of work waiting. So we'd best arrange tonight how we're going to fix things—about the place, I mean." "Dunno as there's much to fix," Henry re¬ turned hesitantly. "I'll make out alone this fall and winter, get the potatoes dug and marketed and the house fixed up a mite in odd times. Then me and Susie, <ve kind of aim to be married soon as it's proper . . ." "I know all that!" Abigail's voice grew sharper. "It's about the place I want to talk. We got to divide it, some ways." "You don't have to divide it." Bickers, who had been watching young Henry's face, turned now to his wife. "You've got your own home, Abby. Leave this place for Henry." "Ye mean that?" Henry asked incredu¬ lously. "You're willin' for Abby to leave go her share?" "Net only willin'—I want her to. I've got plenty for us, and Abby knows it." "What if you have?" his wife retorted. "Is that any reason for me to give up what's mine, lawful? I've got just as much right to things here as Henry has, and I want the ] place divided, fair and square." I "But hew are you goin' to do that?" Henry asked helplessly. "Easy enough. We'll both sign a writing that says the place is half mine and half yours. Then you can farm it—and pay me half every vear after things are sold in the fall." Henry shook his head. "That wouldn't work. Half of what we raise wouldn't give me a livin'." "Then we'll sell and divide what we get for it." "But, Abby," he protested in dismay, "half o' what this place is worth wouldn't give me enough to buy and start in again—even if we could sell, which ain't likely." "Then I suppose the idea is for you and Susie to take everything! Well, if you think I'm goin' to stand by-" "Now, Abby, keep your temper and listen to reason," her husband broke in. "All Henry wants is a chance." The boy turned gratefully toward him. "That's what I mean," he explained eagerly, "just a chance. I wouldn't want to keep Abby out of anything that's hers, only Susie and me—we've got to live. And there's ! been two bad crops, hand-runnin', that's put land away down in price. But if she'll just "Sure she'll wait," Bickers agreed. "That's only fair, Abby. Wait till Henry gets a "I won't wait!" she retorted. "And all that big talk of yours can't change my mind. You don't seem to realize that I'm just like any other fisherman's wife—when you go out in that vessel, what have I got ashore to call my own? Nothing! Just that old house, that's liable to tumble around my ears any minute. If I had land to fall back on, it'd be diff'rent. That's why I want papers drawed up to say that half o' this place is mine!" "The house won't tumble down," Bickers said quietly, "and as to land—if anything was to happen to the Valhalla and me you'd be able to buy land, plenty of it. I'm insured and so is my share of the vessel. Tf we go down, why, there'll be twenty thousand dollars cornin' to you. That ought to be enough to buy ye quite a passel o' land." She stared at him in amazement. "Twenty thousand dollars! Why didn't you tell me?" "Didn't know you had it so much on your mind. But now—will you leave Henry alone? Ye don't need this place." "Tell ye what I will do," she returned slowly. "Henry can have papers drawed, sayin' if he ever should sell, I'm to have a third of what the place fetches. He can have the other two-thirds and that ought to fix things for him and Susie. And I won't," she ended magnanimously, "ask for my share o ! the crop. That's fair, seems to me." "Yes," Henry agreed, "that's fair enough. I'll have Lawyer Wilson draw the paper, so's it'll be bindin'." "I'll see that it's bindin'," his sister prom¬ ised briskly. "And when you get the papers ready I'll come up and sign them. More'n that, if Susie'll let me know what she wants, I'll give ye somethin' nice and useful to help along on your settin'-out." She could, she felt, afford to be a mite free¬ handed, with things turning out as well as they had. GETTING down from the stage at the Goodhaven post-office the following after¬ noon, Captain Bickers and his wife found themselves in the midst of an agitated group. Everyone in the place seemed to be there. Mereen and Manuel Tay were the center of an excited knot of men, while around the ' edges of the group women talked vehemently and children ran in and out, eyes wide and mouths agape. "What's happened?" Bickers demanded. "My land! ain't you heared?" "Listen, cap'n-" "Ye been away, that's what!" Uncle Bige Wotten detached himself from the group and hobbled toward the newcomers. "Been clean away and ain't heared a thing. Mereen and Manuel—they've done it!" "Done what?" "Come down the hill up yan," Uncle Bige announced. "'Bout noon it was—mebbe a. leetle mite afterward-" " 'Twas a neck-chain they found!" Libby Caton gasped. "A neck-chain with red stuns "Leave me through, can't ye?" Mereen was unceremoniously shouldering his way through the group that cut him off from Cap¬ tain Bickers. "I want to tell the cap'n— look!" He held out a roll of bills. "That's what the man down to Portland give me for it—four hundred dollars! Rubies, he said, them red stuns was. Don't it beat all? And we ain't even come on the chest yet- "That's fine!" Bickers said heartily. "I'm glad you boys got something to pay for all the hard work ye've done. Best take that money and tuck it away in the bank, where it'll grow for ye." "No, sirree!" Mereen chuckled. "We've worked too hard for that money to gq savin' it. Manuel and me, we aim t# buy us a fancy buggy and a high-steppin' horse, one that'll trot us up to Portland quicker'n you could say scat! Only yiste'day I said to Manuel, I says, 'Manuel, soon as ever we come acrost the chest, le's buy us a fancy buggy and a trottin' horse,' and I hadn't the words more'n out o' my mouth when I looked down and there was the neck-chain shinin' up at me " (Turn to page 66) OCTOBER, 1932 5 9 TEEN5 - TWENTIES - THIRTIES - FORTIES "Beauty is not a matter of Birthdays" Screen Stars declare — and these pictures prove it Which one of these lovely favorites is near your age? Do you, too, know that beauty is not at all a matter of birthdays? "We must keep youth¬ ful charm right through the years," the stage and screen stars say—"in spite of birthdays!" Looking at these recent photo¬ graphs you want to know their secret! "To keep youthful charm you must guard complexion beauty very care¬ fully," they declare. "Youthful skin is absolutely necessary." How do these stars stay so ravish- ingly young looking? How do they guard complexion beauty? "We use Lux Toilet Soap," they say. "Regular care with this nice white soap does wonders for the skin!" How g out of io Screen Stars guard complexion beauty Of the 694 important Hollywood actresses, including all stars, 686 guard their complexions with Lux Toilet Soap. It is the official soap for dress¬ ing rooms in all the great film studios. Why don't you try this gentle, fra¬ grant white soap—start using it today! Lux Toilet Soap 60 DELINEATOR I n creating the new styles, Paris has paid graceful trib¬ ute to the healthy figure of the average American girl. These new fashions accent the youth¬ ful, feminine curves. To some of us, this means reducing. But when dieting, care must be taken not to harm beauty. When the reducing diet lacks the proper "bulk," faulty elim¬ ination develops. Eyes often lose their sparkle. Skins be¬ come sallow and lifeless, and other complexion troubles may appear. Laboratory experiments show that Kellogg's All-Bran fur¬ nishes the required "bulk"—• and also supplies Vitamin B to help tone the system. This "bulk" is similar to that of leafy The simple, workmanlike clothes of active sports ... the intricate, fitted lines of evening . . . Dorothy Mackaill, lovely, blonde screen star, has the figure to wear them both. vegetables. All-Bran is also rich in blood-building iron. Enjoy Kellogg's All-Bran as a tasty cereal with milk—or cook into fluffy bran muffins, breads, omelets, etc. Two table¬ spoonfuls daily are usually suf¬ ficient. How much better than unpleasant pills and drugs. Kellogg's All-Bran is not fattening. It helps satisfy hun¬ ger, without adding many cal¬ ories to the diet. Get the red- and-green package at your grocer's. Made by Kellogg in Battle Creek. WRITE FOR FREE BOOKLET "CHARM" Packed with valuable beauty-hints, and advice on charm and health. With special menus for reducing picture actresses are shown in "fash¬ ion close-ups," wearing the costumes on the screen. Free upon request. KELLOGG COMPANY Dept. A-10, Battle Creek, Michigan Please send me a free copy of your booklet, "CHARM." A dir ess _ BLUE MEADOWS Continued from page 58 The saga went on and on. Abigail finally left the group and went toward home, Martha asleep against her shoulder. But the others, unmindful of cook¬ ing to be tended, traps to be baited and hand¬ lines set, waited and listened. Captain Bickers at last put an end to the session. "If you've got your minds set on a horse and buggy, guess there ain't no stoppin' you," he said. "You goin' out with us tomorrow, Manuel?" Manuel scuffed his feet uneasily and glanced sideways at his brother, who replied for him: "No, cap'n, Manuel's goin' to stop ashore and dig. We're likely to come on the chest- most any day now." "Well, mebbe ye will. But the only gold the rest of us is li'ble to get," Bickers said, glancing about the crowd, "is what we make fishin'—and there won't be much of that if we don't get at it." "That's right!" the men agreed and began to move reluctantly away. A LONG, rangy black horse of peculiar gait and dubious ancestry came briskly down the hill, drawing a shining new buggy. In the buggy Mereen sat, guiding his steed as best he could through the ruts and hollows of Goodhaven's one and only road. "Whoa! there, boy, whoa!" He pulled up before the Goodhaven post-office and said pridefully: "Well, Hannah Anne! Come and see what you think of it." Hannah Anne rose from the steps and came toward the buggy. "I dun't like the look o' that horse," she announced. "Got a mean J "He ain't, either!" Mereen exclaimed. "That there animal's so gentle he could be driv by a child—the man said so. Used to be a racin' horse, he did, but his feet ain't so good now. That's why I got him and the buggy fer three hundred dollars. And I made the man throw in this here laprobe and the hlannah Anne fingered the material dubi¬ ously. "I've seen better." "Yes, and ye've seen wuss." He chuckled at a sudden memory. "I driv right by Hagar's house, the day I bought this here outfit!" "Did she see ye?" "Well," he admitted reluctantly, "I ain't just, as ye might say, certain it was her lookin' out the window. But one o' these days I'm goin' back—yes, sir! And I'll drive up and down, and back and forth, till I see her— and I'm certain sure she sees me." Abigail Bickers came out of the post-office as Mereen was making this objective known. She was reading a letter and frowning thoughtfully over its contents. "Hello, Mis' Bickers! Nice day, ain't it?" "It's a fine day," she returned absently. "How air you?" "I'm fine—and so's the horse. Wished ye'd tell the cap'n, soon as he gets back, that I'm aimin' to take him for a ride." "Yes, I will," Abigail promised. Her face cleared at a sudden thought: "See here, Mereen, why don't you drive me up to Bath? I've got to catch the afternoon train for home, or them papers'll never be fixed up. Henry says—" She broke off abruptly and turned to Hannah Anne. "I can't trust Lissie Caton with the baby. She's too flighty. Would you just as lief come up and stop over night whilst I'm away?" "Yes, I'd just as lief." "Then you best go and get your things now." She turned back to Mereen: "How much'll it cost? I'll pay you, same as I would anybody else." "Oh, it won't cost nothing. I was just thinkin'—" He clutched the reins longingly, visualizing the delights of a ride to Bath and back again. But that wouldn't leave much time for digging ... "Guess mebbe I can do it, he said at length, "and work a mite harder tomorrow. Only we'd ought to stop by for Manuel. .He'd like the ride too." "Just as you say. I'll be ready by three. That'll give us plenty of time." "Then I'll wait here fer ye. Too many stuns in the road up yan." Abigail nodded and hurried off toward home. Mereen leaned happily back, wishing that there were more people who had not yet seen Jasper and the buggy. After a while a group of boys, playing truant from school, came along and gathered around him. "Take us fer a ride, Mereen?" they begged. He shook his head. "No, I can't take any¬ body today. What you boys up to?" "Oh, that old ground-hog up the road a piece—we're aimin' to smoke him out. Can we ride that far with ye?" "No, I got folks to take." As the boys went, scuffling and laughing, up the road, Abigail appeared. "Took me longer'n I thought to get ready. You best cramp that wheel a mite for me to get in." Mereen said, as he turned Jasper's re¬ luctant head toward the road: "It's gettin' kind o' late. If .Manuel ain't out by the road when we come along, I'll give him a special ride by hisself tonight." "Best do that," she agreed. "1 don't want When they reached the spot where the road wound past one side of Treasure Hill, there was no sign of Manuel. "Guess he's still diggin'," Mereen told his passenger. "We're workin' now right under where we found the neck-chain. Ought to come acrost the chest most any time." "Well, ye won't find it," Abigail retorted. "I've said it afore and I'll say it now—there's blood on that stuff, and no good'll ever come of tryin' to dig it up. It ain't yours and you'd ought to stop lookin' for it." "Like to know why! On our land, ain't it? And, anyways, we found the neck-chain." "Just leadin' ye on, that's all it is." "Well, we're willin' to be led," he returned. "Way I figger it is, some o' them oak planks must a rotted clean away, they've been there so long, rotted and spilled out the neck- chain. Wouldn't surprise me a mite to find when I got home—" A rough stretch of road compelled Mereen to give his attention to guiding Jasper and he stopped talking. As they jolted across the ruts, Abigail clasped her hand-bag tighter, making the letter in the bag crackle stiffly. Henry's letter! She had written him, asking why he had not yet let her know about signing the papers. This was his answer, and it was silly of him to say he hadn't had time yet to tend to the papers. Or, maybe not so silly! Maybe he thought she would grow tired, if he kept on putting her off, that she would stop bothering him. Well, if he did, he thought wrong! She'd make him come right up to the Center with her tomorrow morning, have the papers drawn up and signed. Fixing things that way, she'd be back before Lige got home. THEY emerged on a smoother bit of road, where the State highway skirted the far side of Treasure Hill, and jasper quickened his pace. A thin wisp of smoke had begun to rise directly before them, hanging motionless in the still autumn air. "Now, what is them boys—" Mereen was beginning. But the sentence was never finished. With a roar that mounted and mounted to an ear-shattering fury of sound, the earth rose all about them. Rocks, trees and soil, were lifted and flung upward as though some giant hand had suddenly reached down to tear them apart and fling them out across the The blast reverberated over land and water. Then slowly the sound died out and the world was once more silent. But where the roadway had been, was now only a great jagged hole. Torn trees, splin¬ tered rocks—all the debris of a vast upheaval —were slowly settling into it, and over the mangled spot, dust rose and hung like a veiL Thus, a concealed blast of dynamite kills Abigail Bickers, who so hated the sea. But will Martha, Lige's daughter, hate it too? In the next issue Is a strange new conflict between these stalwart farmers and fisherfolk OCTOBER, 1932 6 1 /hei/ looked at her kaudA. .. .and pictured her scrubbing the floor HINDStir/CREAM Mail coupon for free trial bottle Lehn & Fink, Inc., Sole Distributors, Dept. 810, Bloomfield, New Jersey Please send me a generous FREE trial bottle (enough for 18 applications) of Hinds Honey and Almond Cream. Yet now red, rough hands can be made beautifully smooth and white ... in only 3 days! H er gown was an exclusive model. But her hands were those of a kitchen drudge. They ruined her smartness — her charm—completely. How often this happens! Yet how foolish—how needless —to let it! Though you do housework, play golf, work in the garden, run a car or a typewriter, your hands can still be satin-smooth—enchantingly, alluringly soft and lovely. All they need is a little simple care. Keep a bottle of Hinds Honey and Almond Cream handy. Smooth a little on the hands after they have been in water—and always at night. In three days you will marvel at the difference. Hands once more become de¬ lightfully smooth and white. Every trace of roughness and redness goes. You'll be so delighted that you'll decide to use Hinds always to keep your hands looking their prettiest. Here's the secret of Hinds "magic" Hands become coarse and work-worn because the natural, softening, skin- beautifying oils dry out. Hinds re¬ stores these precious oils. It is not a thick, gummy, drying jelly but a delicate, chiffon-weight cream that seems to melt right into the pores. Instantly the tense, dry, drawn feeling vanishes. Almost before your eyes you can see roughness and redness begin to fade. Hinds dries naturally. Just a few seconds and it's absorbed, leaving an invisible "second skin" to protect the hands. Try Hinds FREE Mail coupon below for a generous 7-day trial bottle of Hinds. See for yourself the amazing results from just a few applications. Use it when you manicure, too. Directions with every bottle.' Clip and mail coupon- now. DELINEATOR 6 2 O NE THOUSAND women wrote us in July that what this country needs, among other things, is more articles in Delineator like the less-than-fifty-dollar wardrobe in the July issue. One thousand women must be pleased, so from now on Delineator will publish a budgeted wardrobe each season. Here is the one for winter. If you make it yourself and do a little economical juggling, it will cost you just $32.83. This wardrobe is right for almost anyone living almost any¬ where. It is the thing for "Margaret," who writes us from a small Western village that she is to visit her cousins in New York next month and "what do New Yorkers wear anyway?" Also for "Helen" who wants to know how a super-secretary can keep up a successful looking appearance on a salary that was never important at any time and has recently suffered two ten per cent cuts. And for "Alice" who is on the verge of being looked over for the first time by her future parents-in-law, and is in all kinds of panic, including a clothes panic. To all Margarets. Helens and Alices, we say—Darlings, keep calm! Do as we tell you here, and you'll go over big! Make this wardrobe, or else purchase a similar one with all the smart features illustrated here. Stick to this color scheme, or else plan one as carefully and as smart. And before we forget it, we want to say here and now to anyone making these clothes, that you need have no inferiority complex about a made-at-home wardrobe. That is completely old stuff. It really is. In this era of cheap and shoddy merchandise on every hand, the carefully made dress of good fabric, with hand-rolled edges and other hand touches on it, is the aristocrat of clothes, whoever makes it. THIS is a "quick-trick" wardrobe. If you think it consists of one coat and six dresses, you are right about the coat, but you are "seeing things" when it comes to the dresses. There are only three dresses here, but each dress does one very clever quick trick, and turns itself into another dress of a very different type. Take the dress above, No. 4720, for instance. At the left you see it as a strictly tailored frock of the day-after-day type. At the right is the same dress, but a fur-edged cape has been added and it is now an important looking frock that can be worn to lunch, to a matinee, or a tea. We chose wool for this frock— a thin, roughish, dark-and-light mixed wool. The color is gray, for gray, as you may or may not realize, has suddenly become very fashionable. You can purchase a two-inch gray fur band¬ ing for about two dollars a yard and you need a yard and three- quarters of it. $1.75 a yard will buy a nice thin wool. Three yards of it, a fifty-cent pattern and S3.50 for the fur makes the dress cost only $9.25. If you are willing to spend more on this *Usitig own fur. If you buy new fur, add $14 to cost of coat. frock, we advise you to invest in moleskin for the cape—it is so lovely on gray wool. Nothing is allowed for buttons, because there must be lots of black or gray buttons in your button box. The dress in the left corner is both a daytime dress and an afternoon frock. On the standing figure you see it in its day¬ time version, made of wine-red, very heavy crinkly crepe. This is the way Helen will wear it during office hours. But after five she will snap on these lovely white starched lace cuffs, pin on this big bow, powder her nose, make a few passes with a fire-red lipstick and be all ready to step out to dinner with the fascinating young lawyer from the office across the hall. The crepe will cost $1.30 a yard and she buys three and a half yards. The pat¬ tern is forty-five cents—and the entire dress $5.70. We shan't allow her to spend money on the lace, because this is a grand opportunity to cut up last season's torn lace evening gown. The quick trick in the evening frock in the right corner con¬ sists of adding a cape. This changes the very formal gown into an informal one. Black rough silk is smartest, we think, and most practical for a two-way dress; and heavy semi-sheer crepe in white or magnolia pink—really just a faintly tinted white—is nicest for the capelet. Pay about $1.19 for the rough crepe (3^ yards for size 36) and $1.00 for the heavy sheer (ijj yards), fifty cents for the pattern, and the total is a mere $5-92 for what amounts to two evening dresses! We haven't gone into the subject of a wrap. You probably have one, but if not, cast your eyes on the black velvet wrap on page 68—it couldn't be nicer. ABOUT the coat. Here we cheated a little bit. We did not add in the fur. We are hoping that you have a silver fox left over from some prosperity season, or that you can take a kit-fox collar off an old coat, or that you have a piece of moleskin somewhere around. Almost everyone has. Have this cleaned and glazed at the furriers and it will be lovely again. We chose black roughish wool for this coat, because black is most practical for a one-coat wardrobe. And smartest, incidently. 3 >6 yards of wool at $2.75 and 3 yards of $.85 crepe for lining, a fifty-cent pattern, and this coat cost $11.96. And the entire wardrobe totals $32.83. And so, Margaret, Helen and Alice, and anyone else, here is your winter wardrobe, and we hope you get a big thrill out of it. If you want to know anything more about it or about accessories for it, write to us and we will write to you. MARIAN COREY A "QUICK-TRICK" WARDROBE lor $ 32.83 $9.25 OCTOBER, 193 2 63 "two-in-one evening frock" 4 7 5 3 The grand thing about the new clothes is their "spare parts." At the right, you have a formal frock. At the left, the same dress less formal with a jacket. Substitute a cape and you have still a third costume with which to fool your public. For 36 (size 18), 4% yards 39-inch crepe, skirt cut bias; % yard 39- inch contrast. Designed for sizes 12 to 20; 30 to 42. "the Gay Nineties have done it" 47 5 8 The Gay Nineties are responsible for a lot of the nicest clothes of the year, especially for the fash¬ ion for capes. Evening wraps with big cape collars are right in line with all the new wear-them-several- ways clothes, for you can drape the collar any way you please. For 36 (size 18), 6% yards 39-inch erect pile velvet. Designed for sizes 12 to 20; 30 to 44. FIRST FASHIONS FOR FIRST NIGHTS Purchase Butterick Patterns with Deltor Picture Instructions at the leading stores throughout the world at prices given on page 72 DELINEATOR 6 4 "CREPONS," SILKS OF THE GAY NINETIES, COME BACK "crinkly silk seersucker" 4 7 3 9 The very different look of the new frocks is due to these old-fashioned, but now new-fashioned, very, very crinkly crepes. Silk seersucker is one of them, and it is best in a rather simple frock like this one. For 34 (size 16) 3(4 yards 39-inch crepe. Designed for sizes 12 to 20; 30 to 38. "oblong crinkled crepe" 4 7 3 5 Picture a crepe twice as deeply crinkled as Roshanara and pressed in an oblong design, and you have the wrinkled heavy crepe that is smart for this frock. At its best in wine red, with white lace. For 36 (size 18) 3% yards 39-inch crepe. Designed for sizes 14 to 20; 32 to 44. "furrowed crepe" 4 7 57 The crepon of this coat-dress is woven in deep ridges. Observe'the leg o' mutton sleeves revived from the dear de¬ parted days. These, we think, are more wear¬ able than those gathered at the shoulder. For 36 (size 18) 4% yards 39-inch dark crepe. Designed for sizes 12 to 20; 30 to 44. Purchase Butterick Patterns with Deltor Picture Instructions at the leading stores throughout the world at prices given on page 72 OCTOBER, 193 2 65 TWO-WAY CHANGE-ABOUT "SPARE PARTS" "the collar is a 'spare part' " 47 4 6 The beauty of these new "con¬ vertibles" is that they need not look the same twice. Off with the collar and you have another dress. Substitute a bow, a clip, a scarf. For 36 (size 18), 4 yards 39-inch silk crepe; 1 yard 39-inch contrast. Designed for sizes 12 to 20; 30 to 44. "with or without a cape" 4 7 5 5 Capes are the perfect "spare parts" for the new woollen dresses as they make them into com¬ plete street outfits. Without the cape, this dress is surprisingly formal for the top is light, and the armholes are very deep. For 36 (size 18), 2% yards 54-inch wool (skirt cut bias); 1% yards 35-to-39-inch crepe. Designed for sizes 12 to 20; 30 to 42. Purchase Butterick Patterns with Deltor Picture Instructions at the leading stores throughout the world at prices given on page 72 66 An Entire Daytime Wardrobe Devoted to Slenderizing Lines DELINEATOR "spiral cuffs" 4 7 4 8 When this winter's coats have fur cuffs they are almost always set above the wrist, and often spiral up to the elbow, as in this coat. Their fur collars may be adjusted to the weather. For 40, 3% yards of 54-inch wool. The coat is designed espe¬ cially for the shorter figure, for 34 to 52. "and buttons are news" 47 2 8 The talk of the "straighter sil¬ houette" this fall, really means a slimmer one—skirts with concealed fulness and a smooth, flat hipline; all very flattering. White pique is still "ace" on wool. For 40, 2% yards 54-inch novelty wool; % yard 35-inch pique. Designed for 36 to 52. "matching lace for trimming" 4 7 47 Flatten the palms of your hands against your sides, from your ribs to your hipbone, and you get the feeling of cling¬ ing smoothness that the new dresses have. Here you have it in a velvet dress with new sleeves. For 40, 4 % yards 35-inch erect pile velvet. Designed for 34 to 48. "wool in wine" 4 7 49 Rich wine-reds have just become fashion favorites, which is good news for the older woman for they are especially flattering to her. This is a smart dress for burgundy crepe, with its cuffs and one¬ sided collar in satin. For 40, 4% yards 39-inch crepe. Designed for 34 to 48. Purchase Butterick Patterns with Deltor Picture Instructions at the leading stores throughout the world at prices given on page 72 OCTOBER, 1932 67 Standing High and Wide, New Fur Collars Throw the Head into Relief "the sleeves date the coat" 4 7 5 4 One thing that makes this win¬ ter's coats unlike any others is the sleeves. They're raglan in front and in one with' the back. Here, of course, we have sleeves and oversleeves giving the effect of a cape. For 36 (size 18), 3% yards 54-inch wool. Designed for sizes 12 to 20; 30 to 42. "the ways of furs" 4 7 6 2 There's just one rule about fur— there must be plenty of it. Lei collars, waistcoats and epaulets, little Victorian capes—these are the new things. And they are very very clever at making a last year's coat into a this year's one. Designed for small, medium and large; 32 to 42. In this year of good fabrics at low prices, it is possible to make a most expensive look¬ ing coat most inexpensively "a Victorian revival" "look to the sleeves" 4 7 2 5 Thank the Gay Nineties for all the 4 7 2 7 As new as the present moment are capes you'll see on clothes this season. coats with wide armhole sleeves. And This fashion for capes—fur capes espe- they're especially the thing over big-sleeved cially—runs all through the mode. Wear dresses. This is the leading silhouette— the collar up or down. Either is smart. broad shoulders, molded waist, slim skirt. For 36 (size 18), 314 yards 54-inch wool. For 36 (size 18), 3% yards 54-inch wool. Designed for sizes 12 to 20; 30 to 44. Designed for sizes 12 to 20; 30 to 42. Purchase Butterick Patterns with Deltor Picture Instructions at the leading stores throughout the world at prices given on page 72 68 DELINEATOR PARIS FROCKS AND PARIS NOTES DEAR DELINEATOR: Paris, France First of all, let me congratulate you on the grand job you did with the last batch of French clothes. I glowed with pride when I saw them so exactly like the originals that I couldn't tell which was which. Here are some more for you to try your hand on. I hope you like them as much as I do, for I honeycombed Paris to find them and they're the pick of the new season. Over here, everyone is wearing little tailored wool dresses. LIGHT TOUCH is one I saw at the Ritz at luncheon the other day. The material was one of those thin rabbit's wools, so enticingly soft looking that you can hardly resist touching it. The checks were in light and dark beige and the buttons and buckle were big round wooden affairs that glistened like pieces of old oak. The "light touch" of course is the white linen collar and cuffs, starched crisp. • TOUCHDOWN is a sentimental gesture on my part—just about now I always get homesick for the excitement of a big football game, and the sight of a raccoon coat or a yellow chrys¬ anthemum moves me to tears. In crimson tweed, TOUCHDOWN would give the dashing touch to your tweed suit that would make you stand out in a whole bowl full of smart young women. • "A velvet dress in every wardrobe" seems to be the couturiers' platform, and LADIES' CHOICE is perfect for velvet, whether you choose the new dull velvet of the "Bagheera" type or the old faithful transparent velvet. Both these fabrics are so lovely in themselves that it's best to use them unadorned. The sleeves have the fulness fitted in instead of gathered the way they were this spring—they're much trimmer and easier to wear under Anybody that looks like the young girl at the right is certain to be DATED UP seven nights a week. I chose it particularly because it proves that you don't need a lot of fur to be alluring. Crimson velvet, big sleeves and a big bow are a match for any fur. However, if you happen to be the possessor of a piece of fox, ask to see the pattern of this wrap the next time you're at a Butterick pattern counter—it can be made with a big fur collar and it's ravishing. • Don't overlook the silly little veil that DATED UP is wearing because it has a serious purpose. It's a cap and veil in one. It covers the whole head and keeps your hair slick even if you're unlucky enough to draw a roadster and an escort that would rather have the stars over his head than the top of the car. And incidentally that same escort is sure to be overcome with admiration for the veil. All the smart young girls are wearing them. • GOOD NIGHT is bias cut as all French underthings are. They fit so much better and look so much better than straight lingerie. The original was white satin with coffee lace—and it couldn't have been improved upon. • All those buttons and the velvet collar were the things that won me over to BUTTON UP. I've seen velvet accessories at every smart event in Paris recently. Velvet hats and bags, belts, scarfs, and collars and cuffs. They're used on wool dresses and crepe dresses. BUTTON UP is dark emerald green with a black velvet collar, and the smart young French woman who wore it, wore a black velvet hat and carried a black velvet bag. • PARK AVENUE is a shining example of the chic of brown and of brown furs. The jacket is simply swathed in mink. If you'd like to make it a bit less formal and a lot less costly make it of brown tweed and leopard-stenciled lapin. I've seen it that way, and it's very chic. All the new coats bear heavy burdens of fur, and the most interesting thing about them is the way the fur is used. Nobody is satisfied with just a shawl collar, as they were last year. Each French dressmaker seems to be trying to outwit all the others in thinking up unusual ways of applying fur. SNOWBOUND is one of the most amusing with its little Victorian cape of mole. Mole has staged a comeback. It's being used not only in its natural color but also dyed to match the color of the coat or dress. Dark green, for instance, on a dark green coat. There's a Victorian flavor to SWEET ADELINE, too. The cherry red velvet ruffles that broaden the shoulders and the slim, unbelted silhouette give it that Gay Nineties look. I first saw it at "Le Montmartre," the smartest night club of the moment. It was made of a most intriguing white crepon that looked for all the world like seersucker. By a lot of unmannerly staring I discovered that it's really very simple—you could dash it off in a day. • Remember how everybody pinned white organdy bows on everything last summer? Well, here's the fall version. A white chalk-crepe bow. They're much too becoming to give up just because of a change of weather. COQUETTE is the name of the dress—just another one of the simple black velvet dresses with big sleeves all Paris is wearing. OXFORD ACCENT is gray—and gray is the smartest color for sport clothes. Oxford gray tweed makes the skirt and half the scarf, lighter gray tweed the blouse and the other half of the scarf. Wear it with dark brown accessories, if you want to look as if you had just walked out of Schiaparelli's. • I was so torn between the two versions of LUCKY NUMBER that I put them both in—instead of asking you to look in the big Butterick Counter Catalog for them. One of them has page-boy sleeves and one of those little tab collars that are all over Paris. The other has white pique collar and cuffs. What does GIBSON GIRL remind you of? Of course, that picture of your mother taken in the shirtwaist period. The neckline will make mothers look like daughters and daughters look like younger sisters—especially if its spick-and-span whiteness is against a background of burgundy red wool. Do you remember the year Chanel made those natural cashmere jersey dresses that were such smash hits? If you do, the news that cashmere jersey is back in fashion again will be glad tidings. Nothing stands up better—and it never gets boring. I know, because I lived in one a whole winter and I intend to live in STRICTLY BUSINESS this winter. It's perfect for work or play, being a grand sports dress. • It was Mainbocher who made the first fringe dress last summer and now everybody is following suit. AFTER DARK uses the fringe around the decolletage. There's another version of this dress that is one of the new "convertibles" with a spare part to add to it when the occasion is informal. You'll have to look in the Butterick Counter Catalog or at Butterick's Advance Fashions for it, as there was no room to sketch it here. Sorry. HEATHER has the same sort of 'smartness that a perfectly turned out Englishman has. It's perfectly simple and yet it can't be "copied down." It's in the cut and the drape of the shoulders and the soft purplish gray tweed. If you can have just one winter coat let it be WARM HEART in black wool with a mink collar. It won't look out of place over a wool dress and it's formal enough for velvet. I chose it on the advice of one of those geniuses who dress on a song—have vep'' few clothes but always look smart. I forgot to tell you about PRIVATE LIFE. I found it at one of those tiny places that turn out such marvels of handwork. I put it in because it will give you that "fragile flower" look and because it's just the thing to wear when reading your Delineator in bed. R. S. For the sizes and prices of these patterns, see page 82 OCTOBER, 1932 69 70 DELINEATOR "with cherry red ribbons" 4 7 5 6 The bertha is what makes this dress so beguiling—otherwise it's perfectly simple and very, very easy to make. Gay cherry red ribbons decorate its snowy whiteness, threaded through in the most fascinating way. For 25 (size 7), 1% yards 39-inch crepe. Designed for 24 to 28 (sizes 6 to 10). "choose your own fabric" 47 24 One of the nicest things about this dress is that it can be made in almost any fabric—gingham or thin wool for school; velveteen, or taffeta with the sleeves short¬ ened to puffs, for parties. For 25 (size 7), 1% yards 54-inch wool, 14 yd. 35-in. linen. It is designed for 24 to 28 (sizes 6 to 10). "slim and straight" 4 7 5 2 New coats are slim and they bear their burden of fur in new ways. Collars are big and warm and cuffs often run up all the way to the elbow. If you're twelve years old, you'll want a belt on your coat. For 30 (size 12), 214 yards 54-inch wool. Designed for 26 to 33 (sizes 8 to 15). READY FOR THE SOCIAL WHIRL "dolling up a doll" 44 2 A mare completely outfitted doll you couldn't hope for, if you dress her in this wardrobe. There's everything from a play suit t» a best dress—just like mother's. The bathing suit, especially, we feel is pretty trick. Wardrobe designed for dolls of 10 to 24 inches length (6% to 14 breast ). "shoulder ruffles" 4 7 5 0 Masses of ruffles are quite happy being sleeves this season, after a famous young film actress started the idea. Here they are in miniature—on a very best dress. Separate panties. For 23 (size 4), 2% yards 35-inch taffeta; 1% yards % inch ribbon. Designed for 21 to 25 (sizes 2 to 1). "school days" 4 7 41 This tweed dress with epaulet shoul¬ ders, buttons where they do the most good, and collar and cuffs of crisp white pique is one of the smartest sch@«l-going fashions yet discovered. For 30 (size 12), 2 yards 54-inch wool and 14 yard 35-inch pique. Designed for 26 to 33 (sizes 8 to 15). "more guimpes" 4 7 29 There never has been such a season for guimpes! They're everywhere—which is all right with everybody, because a ging¬ ham guimpe and a batiste guimpe make this dress look like two. For 30 (size 12), 1% yards 54-inch wool; 1% yards 35-inch linen. It is designed for 26 to 33 (sizes 8 to 15). "ruffles" 4 7 6 4 Palest pink crepe de Chine with a sash of burgundy velvet will be the center of attention at young parties this fall. Ver¬ tical ruffles, as you see them in the skirt, are quite the new thing. For 30 (size 12), 2% yards 39-inch crepe de Chine. The frock is designed for 26 to 33 (sizes 8 to 15). "fur for the young" 4 743 Even though you're much too young to have a fur coat you can have lots of fur on your cloth coat. It's used here for a col¬ lar, cuffs, and on a cape and enough was left over to edge the little round hat. For 23 (size 4), 114 yards 54-inch wool. Coat and hat designed for 20 to 25 (sizes 1 to 7). Purchase Butterick Patterns with Deltor Picture Instructions at the leading stores throughout the world at prices given page 72 THE DEMOCRATS tjou cxm hjuJct e «jfu| it's the largest-selling packaged cheese in the world ,ho ^mooi jtti Spread some "Philadel¬ phia" Cream Cheese on a cracker. "Philadelphia" brand, rich with pure sweet cream! Its fresh .deli¬ cate flavor will tell you more concisely than any words why this is the largest-selling packaged cheese in the world. Right now this choicest of all cream cheeses is sell¬ ing at the lowest price in 40 years! Never sold in bulk No band Your grocer has KRAFT Products Continued from page 23 the League of Women Voters to see what could be done at the eleventh hour. In this year of economic stress, when the strictest governmental economy is necessary, they feared that the well-being of the children might be sacrificed. But the resolution was passed with a truly rising vote which grew by way of louder and louder applause quite unaided by brass bands and coercive parades. Women who have lobbied for peace planks are also thankful for what is written into the Democratic platform regarding international cooperation, though to them it is only a be¬ ginning. It is significant that they were al¬ lowed to speak for fifty minutes before the Resolutions Committee as against their three minutes at Houston in 1928. BECAUSE platforms this year loom larger than candidates, I come only now to our pos¬ sible future President, Franklin D. Roose¬ velt. Mr. Roosevelt is not an unknown, the spelling of whose name has to be learned, whose activities in public life have to be ex¬ humed from the files. His political star since 1910 has been Progressive Democracy. He was first a New York State Senator, several times coming to grips with Tammany and winning. He helped to elect Woodrow Wil¬ son and was rewarded with the Assistant Secretaryship of the Navy, which is the nearest he ever came to realizing his boy's dream of becoming a sailor. He lost the Vice- Presidency when he ran with James M. Cox, but learned a lot about the United States in the eight hundred speeches he made during that campaign. He then returned to law practise, and in 1921 came his cruel crippling by infantile paralysis. The superhuman efforts he made to overcome his illness and the success he has achieved have won uni¬ versal admiration—but Mrs. Roosevelt must have her share in that admiration. Previously she had taken an interest in the welfare of Dutchess County, New York, in which is the family estate at Hyde Park. But with the invalidism of her husband she determined to keep open for him a corridor along which he could walk back into public life. She therefore entered more aggressively into county affairs, then state politics. She did everything to keep the name of Franklin Roosevelt alive. She also continued to mother her five children, manage several homes, superintend a furniture factory which she started as a training school for the young men in the county, and to teach several days a week at the Todhunter School in New York where she is assistant principal. If the understanding Mrs. Roosevelt goes to the White House, she is ideally equipped for the position—by the achievements which I have just cited as well as by her capacity to enjoy what she is doing at the moment, with¬ out dissipating her attention by worrying what she is going to do next. She also al¬ ways remembers faces and promises . . . And then in 1924 Mr. Roosevelt was back on a public rostrum, nominating Alfred E. Smith for President. In 1928, Roosevelt was elected Governor of the State of New York and re-elected in 1930 by a huge majority. The Governor has proved an able foe against power interests in his state. His views on state ownership have, in general, the ap¬ proval of progressive groups in both parties. He has avowed himself a wet. Jouett Shouse and John J. Raskob gathered together the broken pieces of the discouraged Democratic Party and presented it to him on a gold standard platter, and he has an extraordina¬ rily shrewd campaign manager in James A. Farley, who is now chairman of the Demo¬ cratic National Committee. There is magic in the name of Roosevelt, and his fine head and shoulders and charm¬ ing smile are great assets. When people ques¬ tion his physical ability to cope with the exhausting duties of the Presidency they have only to look at Mr. Roosevelt to see how his health has actually improved while he was very busy being a governor. There is also that apt retort, supposed to have been made by A 1 Smith to the same question: "What do you want? An acrobat in the White House?" "1 DECEIVE them all by telling the truth," says John Nance Garner, Vice-Presidential nominee, "and I ■ never look backward because it doesn't get you anywhere." Both of these statements reveal the char¬ acter of this man from Uvalde, Texas. Mr. Garner has been in Congress without in¬ terruption since 1903, working his way up to Speaker of the House, which he now is. He regards himself as an old-fashioned Jefferson¬ ian Democrat and dresses and acts the part. Few men in Washington have so many friends, and though he is a hard fighter on the floor he never bears ill will. Last year he fought for a manufacturers' sales tax because he believed in it, and finally got it passed after many compromises. He was brought up a Methodistbuthe was never a prohibitionist. He voted against the Eighteenth Amend¬ ment and the Volstead Act, and before this year's Convention he asked that a repeal of the Amendment be inserted in his party's platform. Much is made of his being the late Nicholas Longworth's close friend, be¬ cause in appearance, background, and man¬ ner of living they were so different. But the integrity, industry and hard common sense which attracted Nick to Cactus Jack should also appeal to Franklin Roosevelt, who is fortunate in having so ably trained a poli¬ tician for running mate. Mrs. Garner is as much the right wife for John Garner as is Mrs. Roosevelt for Frank¬ lin Roosevelt. Ettie Garner is also an old- fashioned Jeffersonian in politics. Clothes are just clothes to her, but cooking is something to do yourself and do well. She really is her husband's secretary and is on the job at seven in the morning and stays there until six. Social Washington means nothing to either of the Gamers, so it will be interesting to see how, if Democracy triumphs, they will side-step the brocade train of Dolly Gann and the long black coat-tails of Brother Charlie. DEMOCRATIC women this year were never so eager to be represented officially at the Convention, and they are now working ardently for the election. There are those, legally described as "housewives," who work for the love of it, but there are also an in¬ creasing number of professional women giv¬ ing of their time—lawyers and doctors, editors and publishers, lecturers and writers, school teachers and social workers, presidents of banks and industrial companies, county clerks and realtors, musicians and artists. Ex-Governor Nellie Tayloe Ross of Wyo¬ ming has again been elected a vice-chairman of the National Committee. She was the first woman governor in the United States and since the day she succeeded her husband, who died in office, she has never been out of politics. She travels constantly in the in¬ terest of her party, galvanizing the half¬ hearted, convincing the skeptical, cajoling the idle, into active participation in govern¬ mental life. Both men and women have been disap¬ pointed that not more has been done with the suffrage that women won; they say that con¬ gresswomen are just congressmen, that the rest of us hardly trouble to vote, and that when we do it is the way our husbands tell This is true, of course, it's true, but not completely true, and women like Mrs. Ross, who are charming and feminine, but who rely on knowledge and not on sweet smiles to win, are enlisting a growing number of active political workers all over the country. When it comes time to vote on Novem¬ ber the eighth, find out first what you are voting for, remembering that this may be your last chance to make your party mean something, to prove that democracy is worth saving. Remember that the Democrats have the best platform in twenty years and that if the President makes mistakes, there is a trained politician in the hardiest sense in the Vice-Presidency, and that you still have the opportunity to elect wiser men to minor offices throughout the four years before the next national election. If you do this, your vote will take on some of the patriotic fervor which animated citi¬ zens when this land was really young; some of the sacred trust we begged to assume as women when we were fighting for that vote! Photographs of Roosevelt, Smitk, Farley, from Blank and Slilles; of Garner, Mrs. Roosevelt, and Mrs. Ross, from Wide World Photos; of Mm Garner from Raehrarh m dijaw .. this cheese food with rating of + + + (TRIPLE PLUS) 06 milk hhAj Hidden in Velveeta's rare, mellowed flavor are the health-protective elements of many foods, richly con¬ centrated. The Food Com¬ mittee of the American Medical Association awards this delicious cheese food their distinguished seal of approval. The whole family can have it, for Velveeta is as digestible as milk itself! Your grocer has KRAFT Products DELINEATOR 7 2 Including Prices of Butterick Patterns fhe NEW DELTOR Buy Patterns at the nearest Butterick Agency. But if this is not convenient, they will be sent, post free, if order is accompanied by remittance, from the main office of the Butterick Publishing Company, Butterick Building, New York, or the branch offices listed below, at the following prices: Prices in the United States of America 4612 . 4619 4671 4672 4681 4682 4669 4670 4685 4686 4687 4704 4705 Prices in Canada Prices in Sterling BRITISH ISLES 25C 1 30C 1/3 35C 1/6 40c 1/6 45c 2 50c 2 1/3 30c 1/6 1/6 40c 2/3 2 50c 2/6 CHICAGO, ILL., 465 West 22nd Street ATLANTA, GA., 70 Fairlie Street, N. W. DALLAS, TEX., Santa Fe Bldg., Unit. No. 2 TORONTO, CAN., 468 Wellington Street, West SAN FRANCISCO, CAL., 3 50 Mission Street LONDON, W. 1, ENGLAND, 66 Bolsover Street THE FACTS AS WE FIND THEM Continued from page 32 This is a small hand cleaner which is sup¬ plied with dusting tools similar to those pro¬ vided with a cleaner of larger size. This small cleaner is carried about in the hand. It is light weight and is no burden to handle. The long cord permits it to be used in any part of a sizable room in the home. It has a long tube to which to attach the tools for picking up surface litter from the floor and rugs, or for cleaning ceiling and walls and long draperies. Its various shaped nozzles lit into this long attachment or can be used without it. Without the attachment it be¬ comes a small hand vacuum cleaner. It is particularly useful in the one- or two-room apartment where storage space for a larger cleaner is out ol the question and it makes a marvelous supplement to the large cleaner, particularly for daily dustings. We have also been using another small cleaner, made for use with the usual dusting tools. This one rests on the floor and slides about easily as you work with the tools. It Some of our tests bring about social¬ appearing gatherings. This happens when the opinions of a number of people are needed to judge the results of some experiment we have been carrying on. Not long ago we had occasion to try out several kinds of waxed and other papers for use with foods, and a new aluminum product—aluminum foil. One thing we wished to determine was how well these different coverings protected the ar¬ ticles inside them from strong odors. You know what happens in a refrigerator if a strong-flavored food is left uncovered when other susceptible foods are near by. Wrap¬ ping and otherwise protecting foods with suitable covering will prevent this difficulty. To determine the effectiveness of the ma¬ terials we were interested in, we wrapped pieces of sweet butter in them. These pack¬ ages were placed in a covered dish, then cut onion was put in with them. The next day we tasted the butter to see which pieces showed traces of the onion flavor. Another test we put these wrappings through was to wrap sandwiches in them and see how moist the bread remained. A recent test has included an attractive new waxed paper made in four colors. Think of the gay and interesting sandwich boxes this makes possible. And of course parch¬ ment paper finds a welcome place in our kitchens. It has many culinary uses. IF you haven't used aluminum foil you will certainly be interested in its various uses. We use it to cover small dishes which we wish to set in the refrigerator, for wrapping various articles, and to wrap small pieces of meat for roasting. Of course the many cul¬ inary papers, waxed and otherwise, have become indispensable in our modem kitchens. Convenient containers for these are more and more common. Certainly convenience in using them and storing them depends a great deal upon the containers they come in or upon some specially designed cabinet. We interest ourselves in this matter of how these papers are packaged and how they can be most conveniently used, as well as in the products themselves. Paper towels themselves aren't new. We have been using them and talking about them for a long time. We have been particularly pleased with some we have recently been using. They come in rolls and perforations mark the end of each towel. The holder for the roll is simple and attractive. As you tear off a towel the holder checks the roll from turning farther, and no extra towels are pulled out of place. Speaking of coverings for articles to go in the refrigerator brings to mind some of the refrigerator accessories we have recently been using. Every large piece of equipment like a refrigerator or a range brings along a follow¬ ing of lesser lights to aid in using the main item. Some of these lesser lights are very useful. They become essential to efficiency. Do avail yourself of all the real aids. They are important to complete and convenient use of the refrigerator. We have been using some strong, well- made wire baskets in our refrigerators lately; a large one for fruit and a smaller one for eggs. Being of wire (Turn to page 74) 0 Formerly 25i • NOW | IN CANADA \Si SMARTEST WINTER FASHIONS including . . . THE MOST GLAMOUROUS OF EVENING GOWNS ... THE NEW COATS WITH MUCH FUR . . . THE "CONVERTIBLE FROCKS" ... THE BIG-SLEEVE DRESSES . . . HIGH STYLE, LOW PRICE PAT¬ TERNS ... THE SMARTEST FROCKS CUT IN LARGE SIZES . . . SPECIAL PATTERNS FOR SHORTER WOMEN . . . WEDDING GOWNS OF GREAT LOVELINESS . . . CHARMING NEW CHILDREN'S CLOTHES . . . LATEST BEGINNERS' PATTERNS . . . ALL TIME MATERNITY DRESSES. IN THE NEW WINTER ISSUE 0 On the Newsstands 0 At the Pattern Counter BUTTERICK PARIS FASHIONS OCTOBER, 1932 7 3 ur kelp pfoT yo baby H OW constantly on guard you must be when you are nursing your baby! If you are upset in any way, your baby shows it im¬ mediately. Probably you learned before baby was born to be particularly careful about what you took to relieve the constipation of preg¬ nancy. You knew then that any medicinal lax¬ ative was carried by your blood direct to your unborn child. You see a similar effect on his tiny body while you are nursing. And probably your doctor told you that the safe and drugless way to relieve constipation was to use Nujol, which is not a medicine at all. Nujol is just a natural lubricant. Your body does not absorb or digest it. That is why it cannot affect the mother's milk. It takes up and gently carries away the waste body poisons we all have. Women learn from child-bearing days how Nujol helps them, and they find it of priceless value in relieving constipation during the dif¬ ficult days each month. Free help for your baby and for you too is in the free 24-page booklet we will send on request. And in the meantime, do try Nujol. Take no chances on your baby's health! NUJOL LABORATORIES, DEPT. B-2 2 Park Avenue, New York City "Mother Help Booklet" FREE Send for it now BABY BOOKLETS No. 6 . . . PRENATAL CARE . . . roc No. 73 FIRST YEAR OF BABYHOOD 2.5c DELINEATOR, 161 Sixth Ave., N. Y. Skin Health Derived from Daily 4 Use of the a CUTICURA 4 PREPARATIONS 4 Price 25c. each. Sample free. d Address: "Cuticura," Dept. 3K, Malden,Mass. AUTUMN FACES COME TO TOWN remedy a too ardent summer exposure Rich creams and oils will quickly I F YOU envy the smartness of women gathered in town after a strenuous out¬ door summer—then here's their secret of soothing creams and lotions, of circulation and bleaching creams and make-up carefully chosen. Soothing preparations work wonders in bringing back dry, sunburned skins, and there are mild bleaching preparations that do their work safely. Warm oil treatments at night are grand, too, for sun-dried skins. Work into the skin a generous supply of one of the good facial oils, after warming the oil slightly. Allow it to remain ten or fifteen minutes; then remove. One of the best creams for this time of the year is a circulation cream. These creams stimulate circulation—ideal for quick pick¬ up treatments. They also act as a mild bleach and gradually wear off your summer Foundation creams and lotions should be used sparingly to prevent caked make-up. There is a splendid new make-up lotion for arms, necks and shoulders that are off-color— not drying. Cream rouges blend most naturally with a skin that has been exposed to summer suns. To apply them correctly, your skin should be damp, and the rouge blended, a little at a time, with the finger-tips. Be sure to blend away those telltale edges near the ears and temples, with your finger-tips or damp cotton. Eyes need special attention in the fall. A tanned skin makes them look smaller and often faded. To bring out the color and make them look larger, use a good eye shadow. Again, the secret is not too much. Apply eye shadow only on the upper lid, beginning about the center and working toward the end of the eye. Used beneath the eyes, it hardens the expression and makes the eyes seem smaller. Blue-gray is a safe shade for most types. Vivid blue is lovely with blue or gray eyes, and the violet shades —those with a bluish cast—give a soft, wide- eyed appearance. A reddish violet makes the eyes look swollen. A tiny bit of mascara lengthens the lashes. Use very little—on the upper lashes only— not too near the eyelids. Blue mascara, especially midnight blue, is flattering to both blondes and brunettes. An in-between shade of light-weight pow¬ der will carry you through the period when your skin is losing its tan. Deep peach and beige are the safest. Lipsticks are brighter this autumn, lovely shades that harmonize with your powder and give clear red color to the lips. DELINEATOR INSTITUTE, Department of Beauty Your autumn make-up should be carefully chosen and very skilfully applied Ik e secret recipe of cl FAMOUS CHEF a heartif meat for 4 -total cost ... 03 t Heinz Cooked Spaghetti Buttered Spinach Corn Pudding Whole Wheat Bread Butter Deep Dish Apple Pie N O WONDER Heinz Cooked Spaghetti is so extra delicious—so extra nour¬ ishing—the recipe was acquired by Heinz from one of Italy's most famous and accomplished chefs* Serve the hearty and tempting meal outlined above, with spaghetti as the main course, and your family will never even imagine its amaz¬ ingly low cost. Made from choicest Du¬ rum wheat, every tender strand of Heinz Spaghetti is rich with the goodness of ruddy Heinz-bred tomatoes, milk, butter and tangy golden cheese—a perfectly sea¬ soned, perfectly balanced dish, ready to heat and serve. Your grocer carries it in three convenient sizes. H. J. HEINZ COMPANY PITTSBURGH, U.S.A. • TORONTO, CAN. • LONDON, ENG. HEINZ COOKED SPAGHETTI REJLEY TO SERVE DELINEATOR 74 but you'll use it for j#3 foods £ Of course, a good dish has a right to be known by any name it de¬ sires. But it doesn't seem quite fair to call this just a "cake" dish when you think of the butterscotch biscuits— apple turnovers—and open tarts that it bakes .. . the dozen or so fruits and vegetables, and countless scalloped, creamed and au gratin concoctions it handles so well. . . Many foods that the Pyrex Cake Dish cooks so superbly are far too fragile to stand any changing about from baking pan to serving plate . . . but with the Cake Dish in command you don't have to worry. It bakes food and serves it, too ... all in the same shining dish! £ For, like all Pyrex brand Oven- ware, the Cake Dish is heat-re¬ sistant. It's safe for hours (and years!) of oven service... and clear, sparkling, transparent as well. Quite pretty enough to hold its own with your party-best silver and china. The Cake Dish shown above is the 9" square style that costs $1.00. If you prefer a round dish we have that, too—in the same size, at 75i. Every piece of Pyrex Ware carries a two-year replacement guarantee against breakage from oven heat or refrigerator cold. FREE . . BOOK OF 30 MENUS. Whole meals baked in 20, 30, or 4; minutes. Illustrated price ist of all Pyrex dishes. Corning Glass Works, Dept. 2.510, Coming, N. Y. Name___ PYREX OVEN WARE THE FACTS AS WE FIND THEM Continued from page 72 they do not check the air circulation. And you can see just what is in them. They are made of strong, flat wires that keep their shape and slide easily on refrigerator shelves. They are a boon to order, efficiency and con¬ venience in your use of the refrigerator. Many articles need to be kept in covered dishes and we are always interested in con¬ tainers of this type. Dishes which can be used for baking as well as for refrigerator storage serve a dual purpose and are often very convenient. Water always cold and ready to drink, or other beverages all prepared and ready chilled, are often life savers. Three bottles of interesting shape, holding a quart each, have an honored place in one of our refriger¬ ators. They store compactly and are well worth the space they use. THEN there are what might be termed built-in refrigerator conveniences. These come with the refrigerator. They are either permanently attached to it or are made especially for it, and become a permanent part in the use of the refrigerator. Such an item is the special green vegetable pan for keeping salad and similar greens moist. Another is the water container for keeping a supply of cold water always on tap. An¬ other is a large storage tray for frozen foods. T' e are cleverly arranged shelves which permit one to use half or whole of them as the occasion demands. One such shelf which we have recently been using slides back upon itself, thus providing extra high space most easily, when some bulky article needs to be placed in the refrigerator. We have used a wire fruit-and-vegetable con¬ tainer of the built-in variety, also. And then the light in the refrigerator. This is a con¬ venience. It lights when you open the door and you see way back in the refrigerator at first glance. The light goes out when you shut the door. If you are interested in a "do-all" for baby's food you will like one we have had here. It provides a container for pasteurizing baby's food, and a pan, which is also the cover, for mixing the formula. This container be¬ comes a sterilizer for the bottles and all other items used in preparing the formula. The other necessary items all come with the large container. You do not have to shop around in different stores or departments to complete your baby food outfit. The rack inside the container can be removed, bottles and all, after the food is ready, and be placed in the refrigerator. When the family is going away for the day and baby is to go along, the same container used as a sterilizer becomes a re¬ frigerator which is easy to take along. Ice is placed in it around the bottles, which remain in the rack, and baby's food is kept in perfect condition. How would you like a holder all shaped to fit the pan handle? Such a holder hangs beside one of our kitchen ranges. It is on a wire frame. The frame keeps the holder in shape to fit the handle and the hand. This same frame provides a loop by which to hang up the holder. It keeps the holder out straight so that hands will not be burned. When the holder needs washing it slips off the wire frame, and it slips on again as easily when it is ready for use. And have you seen the new flavoring ex¬ tract bottle—shorter and squattier? Not tall and slim and ready to tip over as the old bottles were. It's a joy to use. You can put it down with assurance. Y'ou don't have to place it with care, then look back to be sure it didn't tip over after all. We are all for this firmer foundation in flavoring bottles. WHAT IS A HEALTHY CHILD? Continued from page 6 In the animal world we recognize physical differences and feed according to type. To borrow an illustration that carries the argu¬ ment to the point of absurdity: Suppose we should construct height-weight-age tables for dogs. We should then put the heights and weights of the Pekinese, terriers, collies. Great Danes and St. Bernards all together and find the average which we would errone¬ ously label normal. Then we would stuff the little Pekinese and terriers and starve the Great Danes and St. Bernards in our effort to make them all conform to this normal stand¬ ard. The collies and other middle-sized dogs, who would just about fit this "normal," would thrive on "normal" diet; but the dogs that were too large or too small would suffer. Constitutional differences recognized in divergent types of children include the greater fatigability of the slender-built. There is an anatomical reason for this, in the small bones, thin musculature, and more delicate mechan¬ ism of the slender-built child. His physical reserve is less than that of the broader, more vigorous type, and so he needs more rest, possibly at shorter intervals. Such a child is apt to be further taxed when a high-strung, ambitious and sensitive temperament drives him to try to keep up with stronger children in work and play. Adequate rest and suitable food are important aids for the slender child in making his adjustments to life. A recognition of these principles will often relieve parents of much anxiety and keep them from futile efforts to make grayhounds into St. Bernards. It becomes necessary to insist, however, that any attempt to divide children into types, to draw too many gen¬ eralizations on any basis, is precisely the mis¬ take we wish to avoid. There is always the child whose physique partakes of both types and who refuses to be classified. There is the stout person who is "temperamental," and the lean one who is easy-going. The study of types is illuminating but by no means the last word in our knowledge of physique and character. Though a great aid to our present understanding, thus far it has not succeeded in excluding the need of studying the in¬ dividual child as such. What is essential, then, is to utilize scien¬ tific generalizations as a general guide, but to realize at the same time that the "average" child is non-existent and that our own Jacks and Susans are unique creations of nature whose needs must be individually determined. Every mother would do well to acquaint herself with some of the basic requirements of that mental health which is a necessary condition of healthy physical functioning. All parents can profit by an occasional stock¬ taking of their procedures and attitudes, much as an artist steps back from his canvas to criticize and alter his work. From the moment of birth pleasant emotions tend to maintain good mental and physical health, whereas unhappiness and mental conflict may result in loss of weight, digestive disturbances, and other physical disorders. Situations making for emotional strain may range in seriousness from the minor tension set up by a hurried mother to the major strains in a home harassed by profound emotional strife. GOING to bed, for instance, is one incident in the day's routine that should always be pleasant. Overanxiety about sleep may cause a mother to put a child to bed too soon and before he is tired, in order to hold to a cer¬ tain schedule of sleep. If the child becomes restless and cries a long time before he can go to sleep, he may "condition" sleep with an unpleasant emotional tension. This can often be avoided by a quiet conversation or story after the child has been tucked away, and mother and child are alone. No matter what the events of the day, this should be a time of happiness. A child should never be al¬ lowed to think that he is being put to bed to get him out of the way, or sleep may become an undesirable thing. Being put to bed as a punishment may have the same result. Sleeplessness in a child is almost always due to emotional tension. Actual illness is often hard to distinguish from more or less conscious imitation of it. THE GREAT FOOD MIXER Mixes • Mashes • Whips Beats-Grinds Meat-Chops Food Extracts Fruit Juice - Stirs - Blends Sharpens Knives - Opens Cans MIXMASTER The PRESIDENT Atlantic City JSfcJjB S&v Newest Board- MIEPW illk. walk Hotel Rooms I with Sea ^ Water Baths Also Beautifully Furnished House¬ keeping Apartments, 1 to 4 Rooms, With Complete Hotel Service. Sea Water Swimming Pool. Turkish and Cabinet Baths. Spacious Sun- Decks. Booklets and Full Informa¬ tion Gladly Given. EARN MONEY Easily-Quickly ROSETTE Parchment Christmas Folders in a BeautifuMSIFT BOX OCTOBER, 19 3 2 7 5 How Ted gained Seven Pounds in two months through a delicious new drink T HE more Ted grew, the more frail and puny he looked. His mother gave him the best of everything—the most nourishing foods— and still he didn't gain. At last she went to see the school nurse. "Give him Cocomalt," the nurse advised, "it is accepted by the Committee on Foods of the American Medical Association. You see, it's not just a chocolate flavoring; it's a scien¬ tific food-drink, containing food elements every growing child needs." So Ted's mother began givinghim Cocomalt, mixed with milk, regularly. In two months he showed a gain of 7 pounds! Now she'd never dream of leaving this nourishing drink out of his diet—it has improved him so noticeably in every way. Prepared according to directions. Cocomalt adds more than 70% nourishment (food- energy) to milk—almost doubling the food value of every glass! It contains a rich supply of SUNSHINE VITAMIN D and is licensed by the Wisconsin Alumni Research Founda¬ tion. This sunshine vitamin D converts the calcium and phosphorus — so richly furnished by Cocomalt and milk—into strong bones, sound teeth and sturdy bodies. comu.ii3i.L- Give your child this delicious >ted by the chocolate-flavor drink every mmittee on day. High in food value—low cost. At all grocers in Jfj-lb., ,1 Assoeia- 1-lb. and 5-lb. family size. Or n. That is mail coupon and 10c (to e< lineal. lor trial can. Cocomalt "Cocomaltia a scientific food concentrate" alrimmoT milk ono-nr 'whnlfi fwrs fla¬ il. B. DAVIS CO., Dept. SS, Hoboken, N. J. Please send me a trial-size can of Cocomalt. In A child can become adept in simulating symptoms if he is allowed to avoid unpleas¬ ant tasks by announcing a pain. And he will enjoy being indisposed if he receives extra attention and oversolicitude about minor ills. Even genuine sickness does not call for extra demonstrations of affection, though at¬ tention of many other kinds is often neces¬ sary. Whatever attitude toward health-goals a child ultimately acquires is, in the last analysis, largely a matter of parental gui¬ dance. A parent's vision of childhood illnesses is often distorted by fear that the child will develop the sicknesses from which a parent has suffered. This becomes a morbid fear of inherited weaknesses. A mother who suffers from sick headaches may easily develop a neurosis in her child by her fear of certain foods. The dread of heart trouble opens an¬ other fruitful field for the development of a neurotic child. Perhaps the most fruitful field for neuroses, however, is the parent's submission to a kind of bullying from the child because of real or imaginary ailments. If the announcement of a headache or other indisposition is followed by obvious worry, excitement, the granting of special privileges, then the way is paved for the development of a first-class hypochon¬ driac. The wise parent satisfies herself as to the importance of the complaint and main¬ tains an air of unconcern before the child, no matter what the verdict. Every means should be employed to pre¬ vent the child's regarding himself as delicate. If he does regard himself so, he will either use this as a club to the heads of those who per¬ mit him to, or he will think of himself as "in¬ ferior." An inferiority feeling about health is as bad for a child as any other kind of in¬ feriority feeling. It is unfair to put a child constantly in a position where he is forced to compare himself with bigger and stronger children on health ratings. A healthy attitude toward health does not seek to make all conform, but attempts rather to enable each to develop according to his in¬ dividual capacities. The child who differs from others in many respects can still be taught to take his place in life, and a frank facing of one's weaknesses and strengths, a proper ordering of life in accordance with them,is one way to physical and mental health. Marion M. Miller, editor of our Child Training Department, will answer all questions that parents or children wish to ask. But be sure to send her a self-addressed, stamped envelop STYLISH STOUTS FOR THE MENU Continued from page 27 given by two things. One is the quartered tomato, dressed with French dressing and added, icy cold, to the platter just before serving. And the other is the stunning garnish of red cherries in the center. You try these. Open a can of sour red cherries. Add to fruit and juice a cup of sugar and cook down the fruit until the syrup is quite heavy. Drain the cherries until they're no more than coated or glazed with the syrup and serve them, hot, heaped in the center of your plate of pork chops. Talk about style! But the style isn't half so interesting as the taste. I feel sure you will see pork chops as something to chatter about, once you fix them up with fried hominy, ice cold tomatoes and hot red cherries, prepared as I've told you. Do try it. My, I'm glad it's October so we can wade right in and cook and eat and never think about the weather. We can't abandon our¬ selves like this when it's hot. And what nice arrangements they are, these seasons. No matter what happens, they never stay too long or outwear their welcome. And each one brings along a chance to do new things in new ways, before we are tired of all that went before. And every one of them gives us dreams of what is to come. What may be—what can be. And makes our dreams dream true. I believe I shouldn't leave ham out of this picture. There are few meats as good and none that is better or that we can ring more changes on. TAKE a slice of ham, about an inch and a half thick, leaving a good bit of the fat on. If you use the ham that is subtly smoked and prepared so it needs no long freshening and parboiling, so much the better. Anyway, put it in a covered dish or cas¬ serole. Then add to it a sauce made by boil¬ ing for a minute or two, one cup water with one-half cup raisins, steamed to make them very plump. Add one-half cup brown sugar and two or three slices of orange. Cover the casserole and simmer in a slowish oven, about 350° F., until the ham is very tender. It will take two hours, at least. Turn the ham once in a while and add a little water and orange juice, half and half, occasionally. The secret is to cook the ham until it is very tender. Slow cooking, you know. Keep it covered. Serve with sweet potatoes (you can buy' canned ones, if you've a mind to them), or serve it with pineapple fritters and any vegetables you like. Baked potatoes, white ones, go first-rate with ham. And a salad, of course. If you should be having a roast duck or turkey' (and why shouldn't you?), there will no doubt, be fragments that remain, and hash need not be the first resource to turn to in using them up. Make a ragout for once, and I believe you'll find it good enough to do over and over on such left-over occasions. Cut up the cold meat to make two cups— more if you have it. Put into a saucepan the gravy left from your roasted bird, add a cup of chicken stock, or canned chicken soup. Season with salt, pepper, a teaspoon of Worcestershire sauce and a dash of nutmeg. When partly heated, thicken with two table¬ spoons browned flour mixed with two table¬ spoons brown butter. Stir and cook until very smooth. Then add two tablespoons cur¬ rant jelly, and lastly, one-half cup sherry flavoring. Bring quickly to a boil. Add the meat and let the latter heat thoroughly. Serve on a hot platter, garnished with po¬ tato puffs. Do these by beating three cups of mashed potatoes with half a cup of hot milk and a well-beaten egg. Season with salt and pepper. Beat in two tablespoons butter. Form into puff shapes and brown in the oven. Have I ever mentioned baked bean cro¬ quettes? Well, my advice is to get a few cans of oven-baked beans and, for a change and a style note, make baked bean croquettes for luncheon some day. They're good at dinner, also, and that reminds me. Some time I want to tell you about cress croquettes, and that goes for spinach, too. In fact the vegetable that can't or won't be croquetted is bound to be out of style this year. However, most of them long to be done this way, and the mode is becoming to one and all. But to get back to our beans. You know the oven-baked beans that you buy in cans have received the same baking treatment that mother's beans used to get. They have the baked-in flavor. Very nice, don't you think? Now you mash the beans very smooth, taking them as they come from the can, and add a finely' chopped onion, mixing well. Season with salt, pepper, a dash of tabasco and a few drops of lemon juice. Add the beaten yolk of an egg. Shape into small cro¬ quettes. Dip in beaten egg, roll in fine crumbs and fry in deep hot fat. Serve with ketchup. And I must tell you about the apple pud¬ ding. That's in the picture, you see. Fill a deep dish with sliced tart apples, having, be¬ tween the layers of apple, sprinkled cinna¬ mon, sugar and dots of butter. Either brown or white sugar is good. Add the juice of a lemon to the apples when the dish is full. If the apples aren't very juicy, it's well to add a little water. Set in a moderate oven and bake until apples are nearly done. Make a rich baking powder biscuit dough, or use one of the ready-mixed biscuit flours for your pas¬ try. Roll out a ring of the dough, about two inches wide, and put around the edge of the dish. You will have to take the dish out of the oven while you do this. Then cover the pudding with a crust, letting it sit atop the crust ring. This keeps the top from getting soggy. Bake in a hot oven until the crust is well done and well ( Turn to page 76) Ready-to-serve Long-cooked in Whole Milk- Strained cereal— the newest Gerber Product is ideally designed for baby's first cereal feedings. It is made by a formula scientifically de¬ signed to assist baby's opti¬ mum growth and progress. Made of finely ground whole wheat and hulled oats—with extra wheat germ for additional vitamin B—Gerber's Strained Cereal' provides baby with an abundant source of the highly essential grain nutrients. Cooking in fresh whole milk increases the food value of the cereal, and gives it a delightful flavor which appeals to older children and adults as well. Straining through finely perforated monel metal removes harsh irritative bran particles after their valu¬ able nutrients have been absorbed—and gives the cereal the smooth, uniform texture most acceptable to baby. STRAINED CEREAL Enclosed find 10c and m for which send me one Gerber's Strained Cereal Name_ Address_ Grocer's Nam. Grocer's Adir. DELINEATOR 76 How they feel STYLISH STOUTS FOR THE MENU Continued from page 75 What they say cd/octf t/iid $udiMjed4 usid&iavsn. the society woman "The tell-tale trace of perspiration odor on her person has cheated many an otherwise charming woman out of social success. What a pity—- when daintiness is so easyto attain,with Mum!" the college girl "Certainly, underarm odor is cause for black¬ balling. We girls all play safe by using Mum. It's the quickest, easiest way and lasts all day. We put on Mum, slip into a dress and off to class." browned. Serve hot with cream whipped with brown sugar and flavored with nutmeg, or serve with plain cream and maple sugar. If you don't want to do the crust ring for the top to rest upon, use an inverted custard cup in the middle of the dish, and let the crust bake above that. Peaches can be used instead of apples, and pineapple juice instead of water. And it is a delicious, simple and satisfying dessert. CREAMED celery served in a cheese shell is a dressy dish, and this is how you do it You may some time have an Edam cheese shell, and, having scooped it all out neatly, don't throw the shell away. Save it for another day. When that other day arrives, make some creamed celery, cutting up the stalks in inch pieces, and boiling them in salted water until tender and transparent. Drain and combine with a highly seasoned, light-textured cream sauce, in which two or three tablespoons of grated yellow cheese have been melted. Fill the cheese shell, set in the oven for a minute or two and serve garnished with green. If corn pudding is a dish admired by your household, and it must be, it's so grand, try it this way. To one can of whole-kernel corn, add minced green pepper and a chopped pimiento, sauted in a little butter. Add one beaten egg and one-half cup of milk, pour into a greased baking dish, cover with fine crumbs, dot with butter and cover with grated cheese and bake in a moderate oven until brown. If you chop the com, it will do. If you leave it whole, you'll find it tender, flavorful and de- These little changes give us a chance to start anew on the fall cooking. Give us an interest, you see, that may have waned a little since last fall. And now our love of the job should wax again. You'll find that when you look over the list of fruits, you will think of a dozen ways to use them with your everyday dishes to add flavor, color, style. And so simply. Go through your vegetable possibilities and touch each one lightly with the magic touch. That's what we need. More magic in life. I've thought that, always. We never out¬ grow it. But I guess we forget. Few things in life but are better off with it than without. WHATEVER LOVE IS Continued from page 21 the home woman woman "Underarm odor has lost many an efficient woman a good job. I take no chances. I use Mum every morning. It's quick, harmless to cloth¬ ing and I can use it right after shaving." the sportswoman "Goodness knows. I'd be safe from perspiration odor if bathing could do it. I like Mum because it destroys odor without in any way interfering with perspiration. I keep Mum in my locker." TAKES THE ODOR OUT OF PERSPIRATION AND THEY ALL SAY, "What we would ever do without Mum as a deodorant for sanitary napkins, we don't know. It's perfect for this." Mum Mfg. Co., Inc., 75 West St.,' New York. Two hemispheres sit supine amid financial gloom and depression. The financial tempest shrills through the whiskers of the rich in vain; they turn only a frozen face to need." "Can't you hang on to your options and weather it?" "I haven't even acquired options." She sipped her bouillon and gazed about her while he gaily painted for her his tinted air-castles: v "That wide, flat plain along the hills, yonder, must have been divinely made for polo and racing and air-planing. "This noisy trout stream is whimpering for a dam to make of its sources a beautiful lake. Look up at Mount Rose!" She turned her head and looked up at Mount Rose. He said: "When all is green and blossoming down here, up there, only an hour away, lies another snowy but undeveloped St. Moritz on the flowery edge of summer. When you weary of golf and tennis, take your skates and skis up there." She helped herself to a toast and bacon sandwich, still looking. "Yonder," said he, "where some prophet, unhonored in his own land, has erected a few rude shacks, are deep, hot, healing springs. In the rock above, the steam pressure is tremendous. Not alone a great hotel, casino, and a hundred auxiliaries could be heated, but power could be generated to run the ma¬ chinery. Really, there is no end to the amaz¬ ing things that might be . . . that are . . . and, some day, will be, Lady Grey-Spinner." She lighted a cigaret. "Why don't you call me Ursula?" A perceptible silence: "Thanks," he said. "I fancy you find me a bit too venerable to call me John." "Yes," said she, "but I'll call you Jack, if you don't scare me by being lordly." They laughed together; and now he was ready to walk with her over the rock-paved, rolling upland and show her waters boiling in clefts, and vapors pouring out of fissures. They wandered on as far as a belt of white pines, from whence they could look over into a sage-brush country. They seated them¬ selves on a sun-warmed rock and gazed out upon a panorama of snow peaks, forests, brown uplands, and sage-brush. "Who are the people behind you?" she in¬ quired naively. "Nobody, so far. Casino Corporations knows about it." "Oh. Mr. Allaire? And Judge Richbum?" "Yes ... I scarcely expect them to take it up." She said: "Emmie Whelan tells me that my ci-devant is now one of that crowd." "I believe so." She considered a while, then: "Well, I'll say this: Freddie Grey-Spinner may be un¬ endurable. But a lie dwells not in him. You know? All-British. Bad-mannered. Lunk- headed. Dog-honest. Like his government. "You know the Allaires, I suppose," she "They put my first skids under me," said she, "when I shot the social chute." "I've heard so." "There was quite a splash," she said. "And now shall we shoot some snipe?" So they got up, went back to the car, and clattered away toward one of those bogs which he had passed on his way out. Near where the concrete road parallels the railroad track, they stopped. He pulled on hip boots, stuffed his pockets with shells, took his gun and got over a wire fence. And was amused to find her at his heels. "I expected you to sit in the car and look on," he explained. "That's something I never could do—sit still and look on. I've torn my stockings, too." She displayed the damage, and a pair of lovely legs; then, unconcerned, took his arm and drifted happily along with him until green slime and mud halted her. "Having no dog," he said, "I've got to walk them up." He slipped two shells into his light gun and started out among the withered reeds. Up fluttered the plover on flashing wings, filling the air with fretful plaints. Then, suddenly, up flipped a jack-snipe with his dry squak-squak !—and went off into a cork¬ screw twist. And, just as he straightened out, the crack of Vyning's little gun stopped him in mid-air, and he fell in a long slant. Squak-squak! More jack-snipe darted up. Some, at the gun-crack, dove earthward. THE girl, huddled in her fur coat—for the late afternoon was turning cold—awaited her comrade on the swamp's dry edge where she stood alternately craning her neck to see, and dancing up and down on slim feet, to restore a slowing circulation. When at last he came wading across the mud, the western sky was coppery and a stinging wind was blowing. "I'm ice to the middle," said she. She was so benumbed that he lifted her and set her over the low, barbed-wire fence. After he had swathed her in the Indian blank¬ et, he got in the car, and started the chilled engine. For a while the solitude echoed with explosions and the car quivered and bucked. "Give her all there is," murmured Lady Grey-Spinner, as Vyning pumped and pot¬ tered about. Suddenly, amid suffocating fumes, she burst into motion. They were off! In lamp-lit darkness they drew up at Number Eleven, Bluebird Terrace. The girl tender spot. In three days, usually, the mild Blue-jay medication has loosened the corn for easy removal. Always use this safe treatment. Don't risk cutting, or harsh "cures." Get genuine Blue-jay— it's medicated —made by a noted surgical dressing house. Just the right amount of medication. You don't have to guess. Blue-Jay iisnasu What makes men fall for BLONDES?' T ESTS show that men fall in love with blondes much more easily than with brunettes. How¬ ever, when blonde hair fades or becomes dull and lifeless, a blonde becomes less attractive. By using BLONDEX, amazing special shampoo, the original golden, sparkling radiance of youth is restored and faded blonde hair becomes a shimmering cascade of golden loveliness. No dye, no harmful chemicals—marvelously benefi¬ cial to both hair and scalp. Try it today! See the astonishing beauty it will give you in ten minutes! Ask for Blendex at any Drug or CSehcious (Snirees with the magic help of . . . DELINEATOR COOKBOOK 788 pages — 699 illustrations Temperature Cooking—Scientific Refrigeration- Carving — Table Setting —Food Values —Menus Hundreds of Recipes for MEATS — VEGETABLES — DESSERTS — CANDIES Book Stores or Coupon on Page 82 AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA OCTOBER, 1932 .Chief The fastest and most exclusive train to • • Californio Royal - cosmopolitan - de Luxe. It has no rival. Only two nights enroute. The Santa Fe is the shortest way Chicago to Los Angeles. You and your family can live very inexpensively in California this winter. .. .. Mail coupon But Doctor, WHICH Pysllium Seed Should I Use? Doctors recommend psyllium seed as a marvel¬ ous aid in combating constipation. But they know that many seeds claiming to be "Triple- Cleaned" actually contain impurities unfit for human consumption. The top micro-photograph on the left shows stones, dirt and sticks re¬ moved from one of these bargain priced pack- . ages. The other shows Battle I Creek Psylla practically 100% ' clean. Insist on Psylla, the origi- | nal seed used and endorsed by ! the famous Battle Creek Sani- I tarium. Comes in two varieties— Psylla White and Psylla Black, just ask your Druggist, Depart- | ment Store or local Authorized I Battle Creek Dealer. I At Battle Creek we have pr page book that w*" - Insist on Genuine BATTLE CREEK PSYLLA was warm enough now. He took her to her door. A maid went away to fetch a basket, and Vyning dumped the snipe into it. "A game dinner!" she said. "You'll come, won't you?" "Thanks, but-"• "But! That's your slogan." He laughed. "You're a coldly mean creature," she said. "I'm lonely." "You needn't ever be-" "Don't you know what loneliness is in a crowd?" "Yes; it's the worst sort." "Well, then, I'm not going to that party Kitty Skirtland is throwing at the Gold Mine." "How do you know that 7 am not?" "Oh," said she naively, "if you are, I'll go." He laughed and laughed. "Lady Grey-Spinner—" he began . . . ".Ursula!" "Ursula, then," he continued, still laughing, "what are you trying to do to an old codger?" "Nothing—if you don't want me to." "But-" "For heaven's sake, Jack Vyning, stop those buts. I'm fed up with them. If you wish to squirm out of my clutches, I can't stop you." "That's good news," said he. "What is?" 'That I'm in what you call your clutches." "I thought you had begun to like me," said the youngster, with appalling innocence. "I do. But the-" "Another of your exasperating buts!" "But," he repeated, "the obvious dis¬ crepancy of our ages-" "What! You are fifteen up on me! Which makes us, biologically, break even . . He laughed again, but she eyed him grimly. "Are you going to put on your best pants and dine with me?" she demanded. "I am." She dissolved into smiles and honey. As he took both her slender hands and kissed them, she turned her head and called back to the maid: "Stop all traffic! I don't care what you tell them . . . And there'll be two at dinner!" SNOW came. The little silver-gray city turned pure white, until traffic tarnished it. It was a gay, busy, cocky little city—gay with social activities, busy in its mining marts, its law courts, its university, its crowded streets and big department stores. Of the several irons which John Vyning had poked into the fire, none was very hot, and the fire itself merely smoldered. One specu¬ lative venture, however, was poking its head up, like a molting bittern in the saw-grass. He had received, from a New York attorney named Sidney Marsouin, an inquiry concern¬ ing some acreage, partly submerged, which lay beyond the railroad terminal along the extremes of the Florida peninsula. After the Florida bubble had burst, and a few hurricanes had done the rest, Vyning, badly battered and financially scorched, had been obliged to take over this swampy terri¬ tory for a bad debt. Nothing of human habitation existed in that region. A distant inn and an oil dock at Everglades station, miles to the north¬ ward, where the West Coast railroad ended, were the nearest outposts of civilization. His vast and undesired property was locally called Hell's Delight, being full of game, but also alive with venomous reptiles and grue¬ some insect life. So when Mr. Sidney Marsouin wrote to him from offices in a popular New York skyscraper making careless inquiry, Vyning replied by air mad. But nothing, so far, had come of it. Other investments of John Vyning were dead or dormant, excepting only a news¬ paper which he owned in the booming Rio Grande Valley. This Texas newspaper sprayed news, pomology, and caustic humor over the hustling town of Shaddock in Gila County; and was called the Gila Bee. He owned three quarters of it. A pretty orphan named Manuella de la Torre owned the remainder. Revenue from it gave them a modest income. Its editor was Philip Darke, a Harvard man gone native and doing ex¬ tremely well. No news concerning Steamboat came from Casino Corporations. Faul's options were expiring; and Faul had taken to haunt¬ ing some of Jim Dashwood's gambling resorts, picking up a furtive living. John Vyning's waiting role was digging lines in his features. He shot snipe amid snow-covered marshes only partly frozen; he shot quail by hospitable invitation at Spanish Springs; he shot duck along Carson Sink; stalked white brant on Washoe Lake. Socially, also, he went about more or less. Those cultivated and conservative circles of permanent residents knew and welcomed him to their hearths and clubs. Here one met that wholesome gaiety, simplicity, and dignity which is agreeably American. IN the divorce colony, among those who had temporarily established themselves to take the "cure" for human woes, Vyning knew a number of people from the East. He met others who had assembled from all points of the compass to demand a new shuffle and a new deal of the matrimonial deck. There were several sets, varying in degrees of social desirability. The city, was, in fact, a metropolis in min¬ iature, and therefore a cross section of the weary old world at large. Emmie Whelan—Harry Whelan's Ex-to- be—gave a party; and Vyning went and danced and laughed and gossiped as long as he had a good time. Then he went home to the Silver Hotel, in spite of Emmie's tears and unmaidenly language, bom of Jim Dashwood's champagne. He had known her since childhood and was entirely aware of her caprices, but, here¬ tofore, had not figured as one of them. Besides, at her wedding in the big old family mansion at Tarrytown, he had been Harry's best man. No, she was too Gallic for him. Catharine Skirtland, also one of the New York younger set, gave a dinner dance. He went. Looking about at the bright, laughing faces he might have fancied himself There was a snappy two-reel picture; a lovely young Spanish dancer who showed an innocent fondness for him; two popular burnt-cork comedians from Hollywood; then Contract, roulette, and dancing ad lib. And much human wreckage at sunrise. He took Lady Grey-Spinner home, against her will—not that she desired to part from him; she wished him to stay and continue to dance with her alone. But he wouldn't; and, as she wouldn't let go of him, they event¬ ually arrived at the curbstone in the glit¬ ter of dawn. And thence to Bluebird Terrace. They entered the lighted hallway. She had been silent and sulky. Now, of a sudden, and abruptly, she demanded to know where he had met that Spanish dancer before. "In Shaddock," he replied, surprised. "Where the dickens is Shaddock?" He informed her, astonished at her atti¬ tude and tone. "Oh, well," said she, "why not?" "Why not what?" "Follow one's fancy. Life is a sporting journey and it's sure to land you somewhere." He took a look at her, pleasantly. Mr. Dashwood's synthetic champagne had done things to Lady Grey-Spinner. She was aware that he knew it. To show him that all was normal with her, she sauntered over and turned on the radio. "Shall we dance?" she inquired in a flutily modulated and social voice. He merely laughed. At which, intensely annoyed, she lifted two delicate eyebrows. "Sorry," she said. "Everybody can't do those hip-twisting Spanish contortions you adore. Would it please your majesty if I stood on my head?" He gave her another look—a polite one— but inwardly he was puzzled. Here was a very different and very common youngster. Here, also, was something resembling the jealousy of below-stairs. Not only were he and she on no such terms, but there was no slightest ground for the wretched sentiment. Strange things, that synthetic wine did to some people. "It's daylight," he said amia¬ bly, "so I'll let you go to bed." "Are you going back to that party?" she demanded. "It's nearly sunrise. There's no more "There's a girl, though." After a pause he took his hat and coat, went over and picked up her hand and touched it with grave lips: "Good night, Ursula. If you don't turn in you'll have a headache." . "If you go out I shall go somewhere too!" "You're not crazy enough to do such a thing," said he calmly. "I am. Why not! Anyway, I am not going to go to bed and cry." He thought to himself: "You may do what you damn please, you little brat!" But he could hardly act on that line. So he laid aside his hat and coat and sat on the sofa. The radio hooted and (Turn to page 78) 7 7 Trust Your Druggist —he knows SQUIBB! Ask your druggist about any Squibb prod¬ uct and he'll tell you that it must be Pure. He knows the traditions of E. R. Squibb & Sons. He knows that the company was established to serve the needs of the med¬ ical profession. He knows that in its 74- year history it has never deviated from the standards set by its founder. In brief, he knows that the first law of the House of Squibb is Purity. Therefore, when your druggist hands you Squibb Aspirin, you'll know that he is protecting you. Squibb Aspirin is exceptionally well- compressed. It will not crumble in the box or leave bitter-tasting particles on the tongue. Yet it quickly and completely dis¬ integrates after swallowing or when dropped in water—assuring prompt Effectiveness. Your drug store has Squibb Aspirin in metal boxes of 12 and 24 tablets—in bottles of 24, 50 and 100 tablets. 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He shook his head. She couldn't find any Irish anyway, and finally came and seated herself on the sofa. "Tell me about her," she said carelessly. "About whom?" "That Spanish girl." "Oh, for the lord's sake—" But he checked himself. "I'll tell you," said he pleasantly. "She is an awfully nice kid. Her father was killed doing something illegal on the border. A friend of mine, Phil Darke, of Shaddock, Texas, interested himself in her and gave her a chance. She has charm and talent, and is making good. And that's all there is to it." "You helped her too, didn't you?" "Phil and I scraped up enough to grub¬ stake the kid-" "Look at me, Jack Vyning!" He looked her in the eyes, bored. "You are a dear," she said, and laid her feverish little hands over one of his. They were the delicate hands of a child of twelve. So was her brain, he thought to himself. But he said: "So that's the story of my life, little lady; and I've got to go to Carson City on business this morning-" "Jack!" "What?" he asked, after a wary pause. "Haven't you any heart at all?" "What do you mean—heart?" he asked uneasily. "Besides, you say modem folk "Oh," she said, "this is becoming mur¬ derous. Have a heart—or whatever it is that clicks when a girl clicks too." She was greatly over-flushed and her fin¬ gers kept clasping, unclasping on her knee. He laughed at her: "What on earth are you talking about, Ursula? Snap out of it!" "Damn it," she whimpered, "haven't I "Any what?" "S-sex appeal?" "I suppose so," he replied, embarrassed. "Haven't I any for you?" "Look here," said he, "it's Dashwood's nasty champagne talking, not you-" "It's both of us. I know I'm jingled. But I'm—rather crazy—about you-" "You aren't, really. You know I'm fifteen up on you, Ursula Wychwood-" "But that seems to give me afrightful kick." Here was an inexperienced and dangerous youngster—yet with all the cheaper sophisti¬ cation of her restless generation. "You could have kissed me," she said, "but you never have." He felt himself redden a little. "You know," he said, "all that's wasted time." "You mean pash, and all that?" "What's pash?" "Passion." "Yes. That's what I mean. It's wasted me unless one means business." SHE nodded: "Business or marriage ... I suppose you're right. . . But, after all, when one is young and curious, there is only one goal. Sensation. And a new one may be hiding just around the corner. So why not creep up and take a peep?" "There is another hider, too," he said, "just around corners. His name is tragedy." "Oh, sure," she said coolly, "but one should take a sporting chance . . . Well, I'm practi¬ cally sober. Thank you for staying-" She rose; he stood up, she put her bare arms around his neck. He kissed her very gently. Her mouth yielded with ardor unexpected. There ensued a silence—a cool searching of each other's eyes—her arms still warm around his neck; his clasping her body lightly. "Well?" she asked. "Well?" he replied. Something was beating against him. It couldn't be her heart. She had told him that her generation didn't use them. A ray of sunlight suddenly penetrated the window, lancing her young face. "Oh, lord," she said, "you'll know the worst, now—lipstick, rouge, mascaro." "You're as fresh and lovely as a child-" "No," she wailed, hiding her face from the sun, against him. "I look like a bedaubed strumpet and you'll never kiss me again!" She was mistaken. It was rather a warm affair with some rather breathless clinging. On his way home: "Damn fool," he mut¬ tered in self-disgust, "slipping like a school¬ boy with his first pigtail . . . Keep out of it, you ass!" And he meant to keep out of it— out of all that stuff for which he had neither time, money, nor present inclination. "And with a brat like that!" he thought to himself, as he undressed to take a hot plunge and a shave before starting for Carson City. The trouble is one does not shake off so lightly the fragrance of young arms and lips. It WAS snowing heavily. Lady Grey-Spinner, in a lacy pink wool effect, lay abed negotiating an iced grape¬ fruit. Sheets of the morning paper sprawled across her knees, a telephone stood at her elbow; an untidy carton of cigarets flanked it. The telephone rang again. This time it was Connie Quaire. "My dear," said she, "Clyde is in town! Can you tie that!" Clyde was Clyde Quaire, scion of a family celebrated for its vast wealth and position. And from young Quaire's erratic and uxorius tentacles, Connie was now in process of dis¬ entangling herself. "W'hat's in his mind?" asked Ursula. "He wants me to stop proceedings." "Does he threaten to fight?" inquired "I don't know. He's a treacherous young dog when his vanity is bruised." "Maybe it's only his craze for publicity." "I'm to see Judge Kiefer about it at lunch¬ eon. Will you join us at the Gold Mine?" "My dear, I'm sunk," sighed Ursula. "Headache?" "No; heartache." "You mean- " "I do. I do! We dined here. There were scenes. I made 'em. I acted up. He's fed up. I guess it's a lockout for mine. I'm mad about him." "Darling, didn't I warn you never to cher¬ ish a yen?" "It's my first yen," whimpered Lady Grey- Spinner. "How was I to know a yen when I met one?" "Oh, heavens!" said Connie Quaire. "Are you going around looking pale and patient?" Ursula sniffed. "He as much as told me I was a common little jade. Can you halve that!" "Yump out of it, darling! You can do it in two yumps!" A distinct snivel over the wire denied any such athletic ability. "Stop that jittering," said Connie Quaire. "I could have told you what kind of man he is. I've known him better than you have. He thinks our generation is going scarlet. Nobody on earth can convince him we're merely pink." "But he doesn't even like pink 'uns," whimpered Lady Grey-Spinner. "It's all red or all white for him." "Well," said Connie Quaire sharply, "you're not going to go red for that old bozo, or bleach out either, I hope-" "He's no bozo, Connie. And he's at the fascinating age. He makes kids look pos¬ itively piffling to me. Hang it, after all, there's only one kind of man. I know it, now; but I never knew it before my giddy little fool of a mare left me stranded in the desert." "I'm going to tell you something," said Connie Quaire. "Kids are kids, men are men, and women are women; and none of 'em is monogamous by nature. I'm not; you're not; neither is your super-boy-friend. Only one thing strangles a natural and healthy inclin¬ ation to change partners when life goes blah on you. And that is education! It's knocked the backbone out of his generation; but, thank God, ours is perfectly uneducated." "You're quite right," said Lady Grey- Spinner, sniffling; "he's a flop. But there's something frightfully attractive about him." Connie said: "Even if you got him, it wouldn't click, and you know it! Don't for¬ get what you did to Freddie." "But I was jingled when I married Freddie, darling-" "You are now! Pash gets you faster than booze. Pash jingles everybody." "It isn't pash," Lady Grey-Spinner OCTOBER, 193 2 STOP TARNISH AS YOU DUST! Here's the time-saving way to keep metal furniture, lamps and brassware free from both rust and tarnish. And it is just as easy as dusting! Dampen any soft cloth with 3-in-One Oil, and rub it over the metal. See how it cleans and brightens? Three fine oils, blended in 3-in-One to make it a good lubricant for all household devices, also make it give this extra protection. Handy cans and bottles. All stores. Three-in-One Oil Co., New York 3*IN*ONE OIL CLEANS - OILS - PROTECTS Pep up your menus with J this new seasoning .... i WALK£RS AUST£X "RedJfet" CHILE CON CARNE- TAMALES amt BEANS litu&SneatM4£4it! Instantly Relie ves—Quickly Removes CORNS™ It ends pain instantly! It safely removes the entire com or callous in 48 hours! This double¬ action i3 produced by separate Medicated Disks used in conjunc¬ tion with Dr. Scholl's Zino-pads — now in¬ cluded at no extra cost. Removesshoe pressure; soothes and heals. Thin, easy to apply. At all drug and shoe stores. Z )- r Scholls Zino-pads explained. "At least, I don't think so. He and I never neck or look swimmy." "Really? What do you do? Tell each other another?" "I don't mean to say we haven't ever kissed," said Ursula. "But I'll tell you what bothers me; I want him to stick around. I'm so restless, Connie-" "We all are." "I wouldn't be restless if I were always with him ," whined Ursula. "You'd die of the heebee-jeebees! It's our inheritance, darling—incurable restlessness. There's no dope for it." "He says there is!" "Oh, yeah? What's his?" "The pleasures of the mind," said Ursula timidly. "Oh, torture! You're sunk, all right! Well, g'bye, precious lamb. I'll be an hour late, and Judge Kiefer is going to murder me!" And the snow continued to fall over moun¬ tain, desert, and silver-gray city. No use driving about in a car. Besides, it was grow¬ ing dusky in the streets. So the girl curled up on a sofa before her fire, sometimes skimming a detective story; sometimes laying aside her book to telephone friends; sometimes answering the telephone. But a woman who is just out of the hands of her beauty culturist likes to be looked at. Neither Emmie Whelan nor Kitty Skirtland, however, was available, it seemed. And, for the universal and always available beau, Captain Wangler, Ursula was in no mood. She reviewed in her mind other and younger men. Too much effort to chase them out into the open. And all the while only one individual really occupied her mind. But John Vyning probably was through. She had made her curtsey. The audience It was after four o'clock before Ursula was liberated from the capable hands of her beauty culturist. By that time she was able to look politely upon a cup of tea. But as she was about to ring for it, Connie Quaire came in—all furs and snow crystals and golden hair and breathless chatter. "Believe it or not, my dear, Judge Kiefer made me meet Clyde alone in his office! T told old Kiefer it was no use, but he insisted it was his solemn duty to urge reconciliation. So I had to do it. "We talked politely about irrelevant things," Connie continued, "then he began to leer at me—you know—the horrid little runt! I didn't know how to get rid of him. I told him he was a dope-dip; and he took it lying down. So, to give him a knock-out kick, I said the first thing that popped into my fool head. I suppose it came from talking on the phone to you . . . I'm frightfully sorry, darling!" Ursula looked at her interrogatively. "Sorry," repeated Connie Quaire, "but I told him I was crazy about John Vyning and was going to marry him!" "Are you mad!" exclaimed Ursula hotly. "I guess I was. Anyway, I said it.. . Per¬ haps it was lucky I did!" She looked oddly at Ursula. "Darling, this is going to hurt you, but it ought to cure your yen for John Vyn¬ ing. Because Clyde went into a screaming rage, and blurted out something awful about John Vyning-" "It's a lie," said Ursula, "whatever he "I'm afraid it isn't, darling. He yelled all the particulars at me. It seems that John Vyning was badly hurt overseas and con¬ tracted the dope habit!" Ursula's face went white. "It isn't true,'' she whispered. "I could kill Clyde Quaire!" "I'm afraid it's true," said Connie coolly. "Poor devil—he was crazed with pain and they kept him under drugs too long. Months. And now he's got the habit. That's where Clyde met him. They were both at Slingby's Sanitarium to be cured. They came out cured. But Clyde started in again out of pure cussedness. And John Vyning stood it until his wound went bad again. Then he started— to keep from going crazy, I guess. All kinds of awful things happened to officers and men over there. And that's what happened to John Vyning. I hate to worry you, Ursula-" Ursula shrugged: "You don't ... If ever he took dope—to allay pain—poor lamb— he doesn't take it any more ... Is Clyde going to fight you?" "I don't know. Kiefer says he hasn't a leg to stand on. But he could carry it into several courts, of course, and delay things." "Do you care?" "Not much . . . Only he threatens to name John Vyning-" _ "Connie!" exclaimed Lady Grey-Spinner, "I could murder you!" "Go to it, darling. I deserve it," said Connie Quaire meekly. "And bump off Clyde, too. If you don't, probably John Vyning will." "Damn it," said Ursula, "I believe we really are vulgar and common. Jack Vyning loathes us." "Still, you'd better find out whether he's cured before you start an affair with him," said Connie drily. She rose and turned up her fur collar and started toward the front door. "Do you think I believe that little shrimp you married?" demanded Ursula. "He's just a rotten liar-" "Modify your language, darling," pro¬ tested Connie, laughing. They kissed when they parted at the front door. Ursula wandered back; rang for tea. Nevertheless she seated herself at her desk and wrote him with impulsive bitterness: You are prejudiced and arrogant and blg- - * A '-- ' 7 — a stuffed shirt. ,_ _you. And with your world: it's all stuffed up. People of youi sort can't accept my world without trying tc drag it to the drab level of yours. John Vyning, I am far more disappointed in you than I am angry. Because I'm not com- l, and I know I'm not. And I'm very un- ee a man of the world like yourself understand the frankness and a de-bunked world! Very sincerely yours, Uhsula happy t( honesty oi P. S. I am at home this afternoon and eve¬ ning. My maid, who delivers this, will wait for an answer. Her maid returned about five o'clock with a note from Vyning: Dear Ursula, Thanks. I have a telegran saying that some people are coming from thi East on business. They expected to arriv here by air after reaching Salt Lake City; bu this is no living weather; and if they re not here by five-thirty I'll know they'll come on y So, in that event, I'll stop in after five. Yours sincerely, John Vynin Never a word of defense against her verbal onslaught and fierce indictment. Nor any sign of contrition for "thinking" her common. But the very omission seemed to her like a shrug of insufferable indifference. The girl lay back in her armchair, closing her eyes. His letter lay on her lap. Life was still very new to Lady Grey- Spinner. Full of brand-new surprises; of in¬ coherent desires; of unidentified longings; of callow wonder as to what it was all about. A shrill buzzing of the doorbell set her shivering in the firelit darkness. Her maid entered, lighted a lamp, then went swiftly to the door and let him in. A gust of snow accompanied him; and Ursula heard him stamping the door-mat while her maid took his snow-powdered coat. He found her lying in her chair, rosy fire¬ light flickering over her pyjamas. But her tightly curled hair and her beauty-culture features were in ruddy shadow. "Hello," she said cheerfully. "Hello, Ursula." She extended one hand; he took it, released the fingers in silence. "Tea?" she inquired. He declined, pleasantly. "Did your business friends arrive?" she inquired. "Not yet." She shifted her position to rest her cheek on her hand. And let him observe a triumph of art and beauty-cultured nature. "Do you know the latest scandal?'' she asked carelessly. "No," said he, already bored. "Clyde Quaire is here, and Connie is Vyning had no interest in Clyde Quaire. Didn't like him. And remained silent. "It would be rotten if he should contest the suit," said the girl. He nodded. After a long silence the girl said in a low voice: "I'm sorry for the things I wrote, but some of them are true." He laughed. "Certainly they're true," he said. "I know I'm a stuffed shirt." "You're not!" she said. "Ursula," said he, "I'll tell you what's the "Oh, I know," she interrupted hotly, "fif¬ teen up on me and all that! It isn't true, either. I—" But she fell silent. "My dear, it is true. There's the root of all our misunderstandings." (Turn to page 80) 7 9 TELL YOUR MOTHER How you saved the *5... "I've bought a darling new hat, Mother—and believe it or not, it didn't cost me a cent. I got it with the money 1 saved using Knox Sparkling Gela¬ tine. Why didn't you tell me about Knox before?" Plan your meals with Knox Gelatine — and you can safely plan to have a great many new things for yourself, the youngsters and the house. 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"There is nothing new in it," he said tran¬ quilly. "Grand ladies and grisettes, during the French Revolution, went more naked than does your self-conscious generation. . . . And, as for plain language, good Queen Bess and her times furnished the world with specimens of linguistic liberty scarcely equaled by even Rabelaisian Europe." Lady Grey-Spinner was ready to weep with "And I'll tell you another thing," she said with a slight break in her childish voice, "if we choose to live loosely—or what your con¬ temporaries call immorally—we do it!" "Do you, now?" he said politely. "Why not? Men have got away with that sort of thing, ever since there were any men." "Men don't bear children," he remarked. "Neither do we when we don't want to! And that's another thing with which your squinting old world can credit us." "Really, now?" "Yes. And trial marriages." "Oh, lord," said he, utterly bored, "it really isn't what you youngsters think that disturbs us, but it's the noise you make about it!" Surprise and anger left her speechless. Fi¬ nally she managed to say, "I wonder whether you are so damn immaculate yourself!" An imperceptible hesitation. "No," said he, "I'm not immaculate." "So I've heard," said she sneeringly. There was another silence. Neither stirred. Finally: "Well, what have you heard?" he asked in a colorless voice. "Are you asking for it?" Another pause. "Yes," he said, "I'm asking for it." A pause that seemed interminable followed. Then the girl murmured: "I don't care whether it's true . . . Only, stop preaching He said quietly: "There's no authority like a damned man's. He knows whereof he preaches." The girl's wide eyes were watching his fire- lit features which had become strangely al¬ tered—strangely young and white and bat¬ tered looking. It scared her to sec the contours of haggard youth emerge from the worn features of early middle age. She spoke in a frightened voice, striving to steady it: "I didn't mean to hurt you. It doesn't make any difference to me—what may have happened-" "Yes," said he quietly, "it makes a differ¬ ence. That's the tragedy of it." "But I tell you I don't care-" Presently he opened tired eyes and stared at the fire. He was thirty-seven years old, and he knew he was already done for. Lady Grey-Spinner, furtively wistful as a guilty child, again requested forgiveness in a small, distressed voice. He looked at her absently. "Oh, that's quite all right," he said. He stood up straight, strong, muscular, the blood tingeing his firm, weathered face again. She sat up in her chair, then rose, straight and firm as he, and softly supple in her cling¬ ing laces. She said: "If we've both made a mess of it, there's a way out, isn't there?" "For you—if you choose." "For you, too." He offered his hand. She took it. He bade her good night. But she retained his hand. "I understand some things about you, now," she said. He looked at her narrowly, trying to pene¬ trate her exact meaning; uncertain as to how much she knew. Then the hot blood swept his face. And Ursula, also, blushed scarlet. The violent color burning her face and throat distressed her and she covered her eyes with both hands. He put his arms around her very firmly. "Look here," he said, "what the deuce do you think is the matter with me, anyway?" "Nothing—now—I hope," she said in a stifled voice, resting her face against him. Light died in his eyes; the old shadow grayed his visage. In the lengthening silence the girl in his arms looked up into his care-worn face. No manhood; no man's vanity, could withstand the challenge. They kissed—she breathless and bewildered by her first flash of passion. And felt the response of his powerful heart heavy against hers. He kissed her again—himself under control -—deliberately provoking her. He thought to himself, "Lovely youngster, what a beautiful little animal you are!" But he said, "What did Connie Quaire tell you?" "What?" she stammered. "Whatever you heard concerning me must have come from Connie Quaire," he said. "Or from that poisonous whelp she married. No¬ body else knows—except my brother." "Yes—Connie," she whispered. "What did she tell you, Ursula?" "That you were badly hurt—in the war. And that it has—has ruined you." "How?" "Well—you had to—to take something to kill the pain-" "I see," he said. She ventured to lift her eyes. "Tell me," she murmured. He said: "Like a few thousand others, I was hurt. They kept me drugged as much as possible . . . Afterward I was in the Walter Reed hospital. And then—came home . . . Always in pain . . . That was the trouble." "I don't understand," she said drearily. "Well, you will understand this, then: if any gossip concerning my health should come to the ears of those with whom I hope to do business, it probably would ruin any business enterprises and hopes of mine." Perplexed and alarmed she dared not utter the question trembling on her lips. He said: "There's no point in going further into the matter with you, Ursula. We'll not see each other much longer. You'll do your bit here, go East, and live out what's ahead "And you?" she breathed. FOR one trembling instant the darkness of death itself seemed to drown his eyes; then it passed, leaving them blankly smiling at her. "Let's hope on," said he, "and try to face facts with clearer, cooler minds." "I wish we might keep in touch with each other," she ventured. "I'm of no value to you." "I might—be—to you. I'd like to be-" He glanced absently at her, then beyond her, as though gazing at something remote and sad. She ventured another word or two—some¬ thing about "a helping hand." Slowly his detached gaze reverted to her with vague hostility. "Thanks—" the pale ghost of humor peered at her from his tired eyes—"but, even in my pre-war and sentimental era, the 'influence' of 'the good woman' and her 'helping hand' were out of date." He did not mean to hurt her, yet the rebuff made her wince to the verge of tears. Suddenly an odd, inexplicable surge of loneliness swept her. She felt as though she were sinking; instinctively laid one hand on a chair to steady and balance herself. "I wish you'd keep in touch with me any¬ way," she said with a forced smile. "Will you?" He replied that he would, in pleasant, com¬ monplace words which meant he wouldn't be bothered with her. "Because," she said, "I'm not very hard- boiled, really. And I'm willing to admit I don't know what it's all about." "Do you suppose I do?" he asked. "Do you?" "All I know is that life's a rather dirty ditch. There's a way through it—" he looked somberly at her—"there's a way out of it . . . Here! 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Really I don't care whether I live or die as long as I have a good time while I'm She said: "1 want you to stay to dinner." "What's the use of increasing our in- "We'll find out, I hope," she replied lightly. She laughed and raised both arms; the lace fell away from them to the arm-pits as they settled delicately around his neck. Then he became aware of his own arms still loosely encircling her body. He drew her close and kissed her; she responded with all the their self-respect with their bread, through Even Mr. Hoover's fun is a mechanic's duty to his machine. Each morning he forces him¬ self to play a half-hour game of "medicine ball" with uncomfortable high officials. He never likes to be alone. Guests are with him in the White House at every non-work¬ ing hour. Sometimes they find him a de¬ lightful story-teller. Other times a moody, silent host, with his tired eyes focused on his plate, his nervous right hand endlessly rub¬ bing the chair arm. Either mood is in har¬ mony with the informality of the White House. He has banished the traditional rites for intimate parties and often serves the guests himself at the Sunday night buffet suppers. No longer do the forbidding velvet ropes separate the distinguished few in the Blue Room from the unculled in the East Room and lobby at the great state receptions. House guests and aides move about gracious¬ ly, making the most insignificant feel at home. Although Mr. Hoover has not the obvious human touch, he most certainly has the humanitarian feeling. This we know because he said, long before he became President: "I believe the attitude of a nation toward chil¬ dren will soon become the test of its civili¬ zation." He crystallized this conviction in the White House Conference on Child Health and Protection—the most important event of its kind—which evolved the significant Children's Charter. We know further that he not merely initiated this twenty-five-year pro¬ gram but has followed its progress to this day. The loyal and devoted friends of the Presi¬ dent find something pathetic in his rootless youth. His yearning for permanence they see expressed in his Home Planning Confer¬ ence. The irony is that there is no security for him in the noblest house in the land. In further consideration of retaining Dr. Hoover on the case, we must ask whether he will be honest and whether he is courageous enough to tell what he knows—namely, that a major operation on the core of the depres¬ sion is imperative. Lying there are the malignant growths of tariff and intergovern¬ mental debts. THE Republican platform, presumably dictated at the White House, re-affirms the traditional high protective tariff policy. Yet Mr. Hoover of all men knows we cannot sell if we do not buy; that we must sell if the fur¬ naces in our factories are to be fired again. Will he be honest enough to admit this after election day? I am inclined to have faith in his post-election judgment. Will he have the courage to tell us what he knows about our foreign trade and about foreign debts to the United States? Will he admit that Europe cannot pay, at present, and that we cannot afford to let our best customers lose their credit with our indus¬ tries? At least his platform, unlike Roose¬ velt's, does not tie him to an anti-revision policy. He is free to take the long view. Will he continue his sincere and highly commendable efforts to secure reduction in armaments the world around, as his plat¬ form promises, and then befog the situation by trying to trade arms slashes for debt cuts? Will he continue to tell us such half-truths as "our foreign trade is only about ten per cent of our total commerce"? Will he go on to explain that this ten per cent is not a mere fire and unskilled ardor of newly awakened youth. He kissed her mouth again, then, with leisurely experience, her eyes, her throat, and each lip separately. Then he crushed her to him passionately, bruising lip and body. "Here," he said, brutally, "is a hell of a situation!" "It's rather heavenly, too," she gasped . .. "Do you remember how they abolished God in the French Revolution?" He nodded: "They simply decreed there wasn't any God." "I wonder," she said, "what wise-cracking guy of my crazy generation abolished love—" ten per cent of each industry, from raw ma¬ terials to finished products, but in reality constitutes sometimes from twenty-five to sixty per cent of our basic industries, upon which not only our prosperity but our very existence depends? Will Mr. Hoover competently sterilize his surgical instruments of leadership and de¬ cision, and perform the operation upon our unhealthy foreign policies which have been spreading like cancer throughout the entire world? He promises the preservation of the protective tariff in one plank. In another he pledges the "facilitation of world intercourse, the freeing of commerce from unnecessary impediments and the settlement of inter¬ national difficulties by conciliation and the methods of law." Platforms of course are made to please as many voters as possible. This is usual and expedient, if not admirable. On which planks will Mr. Hoover stand? Let not the prohibition plank blanket the main issues. If we do, it is our own fault— the fault of the women of the country. Temperance and liquor legislation have al¬ ways constituted the greatest problem to women. The Republican repeal plank, which seems to me a statesmanlike handling of a difficult situation, was secured primarily by feminine pressure. Mrs. Charles Sabin and her repeal organization made objection to the Eighteenth Amendment respectable—even fashionable. The Republican Party, there¬ fore, promises to repeal the existing law by a substitute amendment, which, instead of leaving liquor control entirely to the states, will agree that states which want to may be wet; and that states which stay dry will be protected by Federal control against invasion. The party offers, in this plank, as in all the others, a strong central government. It is in direct contrast to the Democratic Party's de¬ centralized, states' rights principle. Vice-President Curtis, a Dry from Kansas, has not fought this wet plank. That is be¬ cause he is a gradually flattening rubber stamp. Mind you, he is not Hoover's stamp. Curtis is the last in high office of the Old Guard which never wanted Hoover. His is the ancient party motto, "Be regular." He is honest, consistent, but first of all, regular. He fought Hoover's nomination in 1928. But the day after the gavel fell, party won over prejudice and Curtis set out un¬ happily to intone the virtues of Hoover. They permitted themselves to be teamed together, as friendly as an elephant and an ox. That vacuum known as the Vice-Presi¬ dency has spoiled an agreeable personality. Mr. Curtis has even changed sartorially. The drooping scraggly whiskers have been replaced by a smartly clipped moustache. His easy sacks gave way to impeccable formal garb. A top hat has come to mean something to his soul. He could not change his soft, sagging bronze cheeks and chin, but he pushes them higher with, his tall starched collars. His Solomon's raiment is supple¬ mented by an unnatural reserve of manner and speech. The words which once held the earthy warmth of a Kansas cornfield are now synthetically Harvard. As Vice-Presi¬ dent he has lost the important place in the party councils he had held as floor leader. Perhaps he never forgets that a Vice- President is only waiting to fill a dead man's shoes and that he must {Turn to page 82) It's sheer extravagance to let rugs wear out • • • now that Ozite prices are reduced! DoWN go Ozite prices—within the means of everyone —for every rug! You can make your old rugs feel softer than new with Ozite Cushions—and elim¬ inate rug bills for many years to come. Actually, if you don't buy Ozite— you pay for it! If you do buy it —it pays for itself. But be sure you get OZITE! Don't believe that every rug pad is Ozite. There is only one Ozite—and it's the only cushion you'll want in your home once you know the difference. Ozite is made of selected hair— not jute or a mixture of fibres. It is permanently mothproof —made absolutely odorless by the exclusive "Ozonizing" process. And remember that Ozite alone is guaranteed to satisfy. .. . Reasons enough to insist on genuine Ozite! Look for the name im¬ pressed on every cushion! RUG 'CU S H I O N There is only one "Ozite "— Look for this trade-mark Clinton Carpet Company Dl02 Merchandise Mart, Chicago, Ill. Please send me FREE a small sample of OZITE Rug Cushion. Also your free booklet, "Facts You Should Know About theCate of Rugs and Carpets." Name - Address . City. --- State. - But John Vyning, Ursula feels, doesn't really care for her and, desperate, she plunges into the gaieties of fhe divorce colony— with what disastrous results next month's instalment reveals THE REPUBLICANS Continued from page 22 DELINEATOR 82 GMtome/i/ of\33 look 10 years *" younger... mstanily,/ ipidly that the actress herself hardly believes her own mirror. Try this bit of simple magic yourself. Obtain a box of the new, non-smarting, tear-proof May- belline. Black if you are a brunette; Brown if you are blonde. Apply it to lashes and brows. See how it instantly makes your lashes appear long. ieauty at to your tually look 10 yea. Be sure you get the genuine New Maybellinc ear-proof, non-smarting mascara that give jxact desired effect. On sale at all leading toilet goods ^ counters, 75c. Or, send dime with couDon and we will K&'slaiP SIZES AND PRICES FOR PAGES 68 AND 69 EARN MONEY AT HOME " YOU can make $15 to $50 weekly in spare or full time at home coloring photographs. No experience needed. No canvassing. We instruct you by our new simple Photo-Color is and supply-" "—*" ] ANew Perfume The most exquisite perfume in the world! Sells at $12 an ounce —$2.50 for bottle ' containing 30 drops. Rieger's Flower Drops are the most refined A of all perfumes. Made from the essence of l flowers, without alcohol. ROMANZA (The aristocrat of perfumes) agle drop lasts a week. Hence very eco- .. __ical. Never anything like this before! ■ ree Trial Bottle THE REPUBLICANS Continued from page 81 continually train for office. Curtis does this by being the Capital's most determined diner-out. Mrs. Dolly Gann has been his staunchest aid in this metamorphosis. She came to Wash¬ ington—the bouncing MM-Westerner who entertained the Capital smarties by her tilt with Alice Longworth. She remained to be¬ come the Republican Party's strongest political asset. Dolly's entire performance is seen now not as that of a shallow social climber but as a devoted sister. She doggedly refused to countenance the discarding of her brother after his many years of faithfully partisan sendee. She was not thinking of the people or the party; she was thinking of her septua¬ genarian Brother Charlie. This was no new r61e. She is a woman bom to serve. First she was his secretary-; then she nursed his in¬ valid wife; and finally became a second mother to his children. She was entitled to any little reward he could get her in the place of honor at official functions. Dolly loves Washington. Brilliant parties fascinate her. She sacrificed the gayest part of last season, however, to secure her brother's renomination in spite of the Administra¬ tion's notion that a younger, more colorful man would make a better tail to the ticket. She grimly packed her bags and went de¬ terminedly on a nationwide speechmaking tour. In this she was as "regular" as her brother. She lauded Hoover, and made three Administration friends where none grew be¬ fore. She gave a magnificent demonstration of loyalty and good sportsmanship the day before the balloting in Chicago when, de¬ feat leering at her, she made a strong "work for the party" plea before assembled femi¬ nine delegates. She never gave up hope. Hers was the Marshal Foch theory—"Victory goes to'the one who can hold out the last quarter of an hour." It was not remarkable that, after all the strain, success made her bitter for a tact¬ less moment with members of the press. While journalists criticized her she marched off, campaign plans bubbling in her compe¬ tent head. Her sincerity wins by a length. The two head nurses on duty for the Re¬ publican Party are skilful and experienced. Everett Sanders, now chairman of the Na¬ tional Committee, and Mrs. Alvin T. Hert, a '.-ice-chairman, are Coolidge-trained and Sanders proved his political acumen first in Congress, then as secretary to President Coolidge. He has tact, discretion, discern¬ ment. He can reconcile warring factions until they really believe they are all a one-mind family. His is another story of a poor Hoosier boy who worked his way through college and engaged in law practise so lucrative that now at fifty, he is wealthy as well as powerful. "Miss Sally" Hert is the leader of the distaff portion of the party. Under her deft hand women stampeded to vote under the Eagle four years ago. Hers is the difficult task of prevailing upon them to repeat. The women of the party have confidence in her. If her penetration into the science of government is not scholarly, her practical partisan operation is superior. Secretary of War and Mrs. Hurley add the love interest to the campaign. They're al¬ ways together. Ruth hangs on Pat's words as if she had never heard his speech before. They epitomize the American ideal of the happy young couple: handsome and rich. To sum up the qualities of Dr. Hoover and his Republican remedies: The platform is not as definite nor on the whole as liberal as that offered by the Dem¬ ocratic Party. But —and this to my mind is of paramount importance- Dr. Hoover has had a far more comprehen¬ sive life than Governor Roosevelt. Intellectually he has shown more breadth and wisdom. He has had four years' experience with the hardest job in the world. And- Should he be re-elected in November he will not thereafter be hampered, as a new President would be, with the need to act with side-glances toward re-election rather than a straight look to the best good of the people. Perhaps after all the old doctor knows best. Photog, and Mi ---- Sanders,!row. Mofett-Russell FIVE WAYS TO TELL No. 21 .. 15C FORTUNES 27.. WHATS IN YOUR NAME.15. 46. .SECRETS OF HANDWRITING. .. . 10c 65. .ZODIAC BIRTHDAY PARTIES .... 15c PLAYS 67.. TEN MINUTE PLAYS. 68.. CHILDREN'S PLAYS . 25.. FIVE MINUTE PLAYS . Five copies of any play booklets.$1.00 FUN Grand for Hallowe'en 55. PARTIES FOR ALL OCCASIONS. .25c 20 with food, games, favors; 3 Hallowe'en. 51.. GAMES FOR GROWN UPS.15c 54.. FUN AND LAUGHTER PARTIES. .25c 20. .HOW TO GIVE A BAZAAR.10c 22.. ENTERTAINING YOUR CLUB ...15c 23. . LITTLE TOTS' PARTIES .15c 39. .SHOWERS AND ANNIVERSARIES.25c 47. .HOW TO GIVE A BRIDGE PARTY.25c BEAUTY I. .TOPKNOTS AND FUZZ.25c Shampoos, rinses, permanent waves. 3. .SKIN LIKE SILK.25c Banishing acne, blackheads and blemishes. 4. .REDUCING IN SPOTS .15c 5.. EATING TO GAIN OR LOSE WEIGHT.25c 6. .PRENATAL CARE .10c Preserving beauty at this happy time. 52.. CARE OF THE FEET.25c Walking for beauty, curing corns, bunions. 57.. MAKE UP —HOW TO APPLY SKILLFULLY .15c 66.. SHORT CUTS TO GOOD LOOKS. I Oc 75.. HOW TO KEEP YOUR FACE YOUNG .15c CHILDREN 7. .WHAT PARENTS SHOULD KNOW 15c Telling children about kex. 8. .PROBLEMS PARENTS MUST CON¬ SIDER .15c How to enforce discipline kindly. 58.. FEEDING THE PRE-SCHOOL CHILD .25c 62.. FEEDING CHILDREN FROM FIRST GRADE THROUGH COLLEGE, ,25c 6. .PRENATAL CARE .10c An intensely practical book; diagnosis of pregnancy. The layette. Beauty cate. 73. .FIRST YEAR OF BABYHOOD. " . ,25c 36. . SPOTS"AND°STAIMS 10c DOGS 56.. DOGS .25c Breeds, how to train, feed, register dogs. Don't wait—but mail the coupon today. You will love the splendid recipes and bet tiful decoration sche ' is helpful. es. No. 73 on babies FOOD ..PARTY SANDWICHES .10c . .SALADS FOR ALL OCCASIONS.. 10c ..BEVERAGES FOR PARTIES .10c . .AFTERNOON TEA.15c Gracious ways to serve and recipes for deli¬ cate cookies and sandwiches. ..REFRIGERATORS .10c frigerator. 40 recipes for frozen things. . .PICNICS AND PORCH MEALS. . . 10c . .HOW TO GIVE A BRIDGE PARTY.25c ..HORS D'OEUVRES & CANAPES.. 15c . .WHAT TO EAT.15c ' Planning balanced menus^ 100 calory por- RECIPES ..COOKING FOR TWO.I0e . .FIRST DELINEATOR RECIPES.10c 214 recipes, with some gtand appetizers. . .SECOND DELINEATOR RECIPES. . 10c save time an§® energy by usinf soup in ALL THREE FOR .25c ..37 WAYS TO SERVE CHICKEN.. 15c . .HOW TO ENTERTAIN 6 and 8.. .25c ..DELINEATOR COOK BOOK ...$2.50 Every home should have this 788-pg. 1%-m. book on every cooking question. Washable. decoration 17. .HOW TO MAKE SLIP COVERS. . ,25c all k 4 chair 19. .HOW TO MAKE CURTAINS.25c For standard doors and windows; yardage 37. .CHEERFUL DINING ROOMS....25c 44. .LIVING ROOMS .25c 45. .BEDROOMS. 25c 69.. PART I.. LIVING ROOMS..._10c 70-.PART II. .BEDROOMS.10c 71.. PART III..DINING ROOMS.10c ALL THREE FOR . 25c 12.. WELL PLANNED KITCHENS.25c MANNERS 28.. WEDDINGS .$1.00 29.. TABLE SETTINGS AND SERVICE..25c 30. .GOOD TABLE MANNERS_..15c FASHIONS 53.. MAKING SMART CLOTHES.30c How to adjust and fit; becoming colors. 72. .BUTTERICK PARIS FASHIONS ...25c How to choose the right bag, shoes, hat. HOME MANAGEMENT 32.. HOW TO WASH AND IRON_10c Time-saving methods achieve better results. 61. .LAUNDRY APPLIANCES... . 10c what to looi for when buying. ^ 36. .SPOTS AND STAINS.. 10c Send a stamped • addressed envelop for our PARTY INDEX—it will help you plan your next party—and it's free! Dorothy Higgins.Service Editor • • COUPON • DELINEATOR. 161 Sixth Avenue, New York City Please send me the numbers 1.. 25c 11..10c 22..15c 30..15c 39..25c 48.,10c 55,.25c 62..25c 3.. 25c 12.,25c 23..15c 32..10c 41..10c 49..10c 56..25c 63..15c 4.. 15c 15..15c 25;.25c 33..10c 43..10c 50..10c 57..15c 64..15c 5.. 25c 17..25c 26..10c 34$2.50 44..25c 51..15c 58..25c 65..15c 6.. 10c 19..25c 27..1-5C 35..10c 45..25c 52..25c 59..15c 66..10c 7.. 15c 20..10c 28 $1.00 36..10c 46..10c 53..30c 60..25c 67..25c 8.. 15c 21..15c 29..25c 37..25c 47..25c 54..25c 61..10c 68..25c I enclose check □ money order □ or stamps □ amounting to.. COMPLETE SET (without 28 and 34). $9.98 COMPLETE SET (with 28 and 34) . 513.48 With Delineator for ear Name.-. . 7 . .. . encircled: 69.. 10c 70.. 10c 71.. 10c 72.. 25c 73.. 25c 75.. 15c Town or City.State [We pay the duty on booklets for Canada] No Other Suds WolD Do by (AS/oig/U-. UNPOPULAR MRS. R ^7/ '"'a ' 0 f I WAS CLEANING FOR MRS.R.. THE OTHER DAY. SHE'S PRETTY LONESOME. SEEMS AS IF SHE CANT GET TO KNOW THE LADIES 'ROUND HERE . CHILDREN TOUCH AND HANDLE SO MANY THINGS BOBBY'S IN BED WITH A COLD THAT CARRY GERMS. NO WONDER SICKNESS SPREADS. AGAIN. IT'S ONE AILMENT WHY NOT HAVE BOBBY WASH HIS HANDS •R ANOTHER , OFTEN WITH LIFEBUOY HEALTH SOAP? IT GETS GERMS OFF AS WELL AS DIRT "Nice people" keep free of "B.O." this simple way (body odor) 1 * T HEY know that pores of every normal adult give off over a quart of odor-causing waste every twenty- four hours. They make sure of not offending by taking frequent Lifebuoy baths. They know by Lifebuoy's extra-clean, quickly vanishing scent that Lifebuoy is no ordinary soap. Its rich, hygienic lather deodorizes as it cleanses — effectively ends "B.O." Complexion care Nightly Lifebuoy "facials"— here's the easy way to a lovely skin! Massage the pure, bland lather well into the pores; then rinse. Watch dull com¬ plexions freshen. Adopt Life¬ buoy today. 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