OCR Text |
Show TRUT H 6 the earth, howd you like to be a Perhaps it is all the more real for that, only sometimes when I get spug? A what? I gasped. homesick for you I put myself into a His face radiated disgust. and end quite happily. You Aw, dont you know what a spug are gone so long, John, and you seem is? Its a sparrow. Now you know, to care so little. Is it so, or am I I wouldnt mind bein a spug. They childish, as usual. Sometimes I fight to beat the band, an they see wonder if it could be worse were you everything thats goin, too. I put out to die. Women werent meant to be crumbs for em, an, sir, they see em lonely, dear, and men never seem to quickern scat. Then you should jist really understand their needs. You ought to hear em talk about It. Theres wrote me that Agnes Lavanaugh is to be married and said now I need no your car dont you want it? I rushed wildly out into the street longer be jealous. How simple you and was Just in time. All the way up are, you man! Did you imagine for town my thoughts were with that lit- one instant that I did you the honor to tle youngster. He may have other mo- be jealous. 0, no, my John, you are ments like those, so I shall cultivate quite mistaken. day-drea- m him. Jjt J J Mrs. Melvin and Mrs. Reed gave a delightful program of song and story at the Congregational church Thurs- day night. I think Mrs. Melvin is far and away the most dramatic singer in Salt Lake. She looked stunning in her jetted gown, her white hair giving her a distinction worth more than mere beauty. Mrs. Reed is always good. For a long time she has been very generous to her friends, always sweetly obeying when asked to read She richly deserved the something. audience she had. She has a color like a damask rose. Mrs. Melvin was assisted by her brother, Mr. R. N. Her-rimaof Cleveland, Ohio. It would seem from the applause that Mr. Skelton always gets that he has won a good place in the hearts of music-loverThe public should encourage the and song story recital. It is quite the in the east, but like the fashthing ions, it is slow to reach Salt Lake. n s. JUt J Yesterday, while I was down town, several street cars full of soldiers passed along the street, headed'by a band. It was quite stirring to see them and to hear the martial airs. I heard one young man say he wished that he were a soldier. It is the spirit of soldiery that they admire; the life of a soldier in time of peace is the most monotonous thing on earth, and, too, it has a tendency from its very inactivity to develop the evil rather than the good. I often wonder why an ambitious girl should wish to marry a soldier even an officer. He wins no distinction save in time of war, and I should think he would become deadly tiresome should peace prevail for any length of time. The trouble is girls are romantic and the uniform attracts them more than the man. I have noticed some of the specimens furnished local society from Ft. Douglas for the past few years. To read about them is all very well, but to see them is vastly different, and most of them d adorn their mouths with cigarettes. They never compare with the women at the Post most of the women are undeniably clever, but I sadly fear so much may not be said of the eligible men. Still the. girls are just as keen to know them, possibly because they are no better informed themselves. half-smoke- J J How gaunt the trees are looking. It n is almost as though a starved to the multitude were turned half-froze- lions. They seem so unprotected, and soon, too soon, the bitter winds will come, the hurtling snow envelop them. But though the trees are leafless, there is this compensation, the mountains can be viewed to greater advantage and their hues these autumn days are varied enough to suit the most captious mood. The divinity that bestowed imagin- ation upon distracted man was kind, wasnt he, John? When we are lonely, when we are blue, how we people our world to suit ourselves. It is like the happy dream that ends just as we would., have . it only we generally . awaken before It is quite complete. I wonder if people know about the jolly little luncheons they are serving at Franklins now. Genuine homecooking the only objection being the girls who serve. They are a funny lot, abounding in style, half style, no style, and giving more attention to their back hair than to the people who are hungry. If Franklin would insist on their wearing plain blue serge short waist' suits, with white aprons and caps; and if he would have some one instruct them in the art of waiting (for it is an art!) the patronage would increase ninety per cent. As it is now you nearly dislocate your neck trying to get a glass of water and that does not pay. Speaking ,of service reminds me, the women in the ready-mad- e dress goods department at Keith OBriens are a set of wooden images; they either do not know anything or they are impudent I wonder at the condition there. I have heard at least a dozen complaints. The success of such a business depends upon the clerks. A clean, pleasant, obliging clerk is worth her weight in gold to a dry goods store. Women simply will not shop where they meet impetinence or ignorance, and who can blame them? I certainly do not. Many a time one enters a store undecided as to what one wishes; the right kind of a clerk is a godsend, then, and if she helps you once the chances are youll go back to that place again, rather than run the risk of unpleasant experiences elsewhere. Jit jft if John, you dont come home and tell me how you like my new hat, I shall stop writing to you. I have the stunningest hat and Jonsey is making me a gown that will compel me to Now, be beautiful. You know what that means bills, my dear man, bills. I shall send them all to you. You will then, probably do one of two things,abroad. or once go at either return Please pay the bills first, though, what- ever you do. Yours devotedly, P. S ALICE. Do you know, John, I have never received my library notice for The Filligree Ball? I asked about it and was told that there were still seven cards ahead of mine. Isnt it provoking? I want to read it more and more, though 1 commenced with not wanting to read it at all. And by the way, in the last Worlds Work is a picture of our adorable Kipling, but, lo, Kipling with a cigarette In his fingers and his trousers showing unmistakable evidence that they need pressing. His face is the same, however, and that is always good to look on. I see his book, The Five Nations," bids fair to increase his reputation if such a thing is possible. A critic, speaking of his work, says he will be remembered by three volumes, Kim, and The the Jungle Book, What a martial spirit Five Nations. he has! Always one hears the tramp, tramp of armed hosts, the roll of guns, the shrilling fife and melodious bugle. England should be proud of her . erratic son, shouldnt she? There is just the dandiest little editorial on The Kind of Tool That Bosses Use in this same magazine. It is on McClellan, and I commend it to all Democratis who rejoice over New York having gone their way. Alice. THE NERVE OF THE HERALD. The Herald has more than the amount of nerve and gall usually allotted to persons, things or corpora- fairly and completely. It declined the request of the chairman of the Democratic city committee to print the details of illegal registration among the employees of a certain large store here, because it was afraid it would take out its advertising, it has refused to print the news about Tom Kearns or Perry Heath, especially the latter, whose name has been in the associated press dispatches in other large cities, for months. The people would not have known of the rugged honesty of the president in insisting that Heath should go from the national committee at once; that he should be prosecuted, except for Truths exclusive mention of the fact one week ago. It has leaned toward the Republicans for the past three years and its work for the Democracy has been only after being fairly driven into line. The good natured comment it speaks of has been little else than drivel and it has not had a pronounced opinion on anything. Alluding to the triumph of its party, how long since the Herald has been Democratic. Two years ago it said it was independent and no later than the late Kearns convention its editorial writer, answering a question propounded by O. P. Pratt on the stage of the theatre, declared The Herald was nothing; that it had no politics, a statement in which all his auditors heartily concurred. But the Herald scents a little patronage riow and wants in. However, it isdoubtful if the Democrats will be fooled by this s supportaggregation of ers. The Democrats have pulled through without its assistance, and have no friends in the Herald to reward. One bright spot, however, has been the cartoons of Alan Lovey. He has been the only employee of the paper who has done anything toward Democratic success. Lovey is a hummer. This assertion must not be construed as a reflection upon the members of the staff of the paper, outside the manager and his editorial writer. If the boys were given a chance they would be all right, but they are held down by the management, which is nothing but a toady to Tom Kearns and Perry S. Heath, which protects Heath and lauds Kearns whenever opportunity presents itself. Clark-Keam- tions. The morning following election it printed, among a lot of other stuff, laudatory of the Democratic party, the following anent itself: Lastly, and with Borne feeling of satisfaction, The Herald takes to itself some credit for the triumph of fts party. Giving the news fairly and completely, commenting on the situation honestly and with entire good nature, The Herald views its share in the contest with o no little pride. Mr. and Mrs. T. F. Thomas and child To state the matter fairly, The Her- have gone east on an extended trip. ald has done none of the acts it takes They will probably be away four or credit for. It has not given the news five weeks. . Something good for everybody. Worthy of the fullest invertigettion. Full particulars next week, |