THREE ROYAL
SPORTSMEN » *
Beauty Standards
Alter With Years,
Says Betty Wells
By BETTY WELLS
EACH generation, and almost ev
ery individual, feels pretty su
perior on the subject of taste. In
short, what we like is good taste—
while bad taste is the prerogative
of the other person. Isn’t bad taste
always something associated with
somebody else rather than our
selves? But what about the person
we accuse? Perhaps, in fact very
probably, he thinks the same thing
about us. And rarely, indeed if
ever, does one generation fail to
scorn the taste of the preceding
generation.
Broadly, taste reflects standards
of beauty. Yet we constantly hear
authoritative artists and decorators
say that there have been throughout
art history certain recognized
standards of beauty that can be ac
cepted as beauty.
We are convinced that there are
no hard and fast standards, no
set definitions. That beauty is a
spiritual quality, like love. That it
is individual and ephemeral, like
happiness. That we can’t measure
it or make rules about it.
So we try not to be glib about our
taste. And so positive about what
is beautiful and what is ugly. Be
cause time and tastes change, and
we don’t see why we must consider
our taste so superior to that of the
gay nineties, just because it is dif
ferent. If we like it, that’s enough.
© By Betty Wells — WNU Service.
One Piece Frock
A snowy pique vestee adds charm
to this slim onc-picce frock in black
wool crepe with its matching: bolero,
buttoned on for smart street wear.
!
EUROPE’S royalty declines in im
portance, but the few remaining
monarchs and princes are avid out
Idoor fans. Upper left: King Carol
of Rumania is an enthusiastic hunt
er, often found in the woods near
Bucharest. Left: King Leopold of
Belgium is an excellent golfer.
Above: King Gustaf V of Sweden,
who celebrates his eightieth birth
day in June, remains perennially
youthful. He is shown competing
-! in a Monte Carlo tennis tournament.
ADVENTURES OF PETER RABBIT
By THORNTON W. BURGESS
C LJRELY no one was ever in a
tighter place than was Peter
Rabbit when Reddy Fox chased him
under the brush pile in the Green
Forest and then Old Man Coyote
and Granny Fox and Reddy Fox
and Redtail the Hawk watched all
the rest of the long day for him to
come out He couldn’t stay there
H.A M »•<•■ f«
“I wonder where this goes to,”
thought Peter. “I believe I’ll find
out.”
forever because, you know, there
was nothing to eat and Peter, like
most folks, just has to eat. But
Peter has a great deal of wisdom
in his funny little head, even if he
does sometimes do very foolish
things, and one of the wisest things
that Peter does is never to give up
hope.
So when Peter crawled under that
pile of brush and so escaped Reddy
Fox his first thought was one of
thankfulness. He didn’t know how
he was ever going to get back to
the dear Old Briar Patch, but he
was safe so long as he stayed where
he was, and he was very thankful
for that.
After he had rested and quite got
his breath Peter began to look
around to see just what kind of a
place the old brush pile was. He
saw right away that just so long
as he stayed there he was perfectly
safe, for the brush was so thick that
Reddy Fox could never crawl under.
“It’s a regular castle,” thought
Peter.
Now Peter didn’t know much
about castles. If he had he would
have expected to find somewhere a
secret passage. All casi you
know, have secret pas' Any
way, they are supposer ,o. But Pe
ter didn’t know this, and so when he
came to an old stump right in the
middle of the brush pile and be
tween the roots of it found a hole
he was surprised. But he was just
as much pleased as he was sur
prised. He pulled out some of the
leaves and sticks that filled the door
way and went in. There was a
long hall which was very dark, and
Peter knew by the smell that it
had not been used by anyone for a
very long time.
“It’s an old house made by one
of Johnny Chuck’s relatives,”
thought Peter. “I wonder if there
is a good bedroom where I can
take a nap.”
He kept on down the long hall,
and sure enough presently came to
a snug bedroom. He was just about
to make himself comfortable for a
nap when he noticed another hall.
“I wonder where this goes to,”
thought Peter. “I believe I’ll find
out.”
So very carefully Peter crept
along the other hall. It was very
much longer than the first one. By
and by he saw a little daylight
ahead and knew that he was nearly
1 to a doorway. Like the first door
way, this one was partly closed
with dead leaves and sticks. Peter
peeped out between them. Then his
heart gave a great jump. That
doorway wasn’t under the old brush
pile at all. It was almost under the
very tree in which sat Redtail the
Hawk keeping watch, and it was
nearly hidden by a little hemlock
tree growing close by. Peter chuck
led. a still little chuckle, that no
one should hear. Then he stretched
himself out to watch and wait. When
the black shadows began to creep
through the Green Forest" Redtail
flew away to get Hooty the Owl to
take his place, for you know Red
tail cannot see at night. Then very,
very carefully, Peter pulled aside the
leaves and sticks and tiptoed out,
taking care not to make the teeni
est, weeniest sound. As soon as he
dared he began to run, lipperty
lipperty-lip, and soon was well on
his way to the dear Old Briar Patch.
© T. W Burgess.—WNU Service.
-BEAUTY HINT
Strengthening the Fingers
- I
Hands require a,s much care as the face if a woman is to retain her
all-around beauty. An important and effective exercise for strengthening
the fingers is stretching, using a yardstick which shows how far you are
extending them. Posed by Cecilia Parker.
Farley Household
Poses for Camera
New York.—The family of James
A. Farley, postmaster general, is
like many another prominent offi
cial’s family in that it seldom shares
the spotlight. But an alert pho
tographer caught the postmaster
general with his wife and their two
daughters, Ann and Betty, as they
left St. Patrick’s cathedral after
Sunday services.
1__
TtoydQM*™*
ADVENTURERS’ CLUB
_____ i
HEADLINES FROM THE LIVES
OF PEOPLE LIKE YOURSELFI
*
“T/ie Endless Sleep’’
By FLOYD GIBBONS
Famous Headline Hunter
Hello everybody:
Over in China some funny things can happen. A doc
tor there, so I’m told, has to be careful what he says. If he
guarantees to cure a patient, and the patient dies, they take
the doctor out and cut his head off. That’s China for you.
Doggone few doctors over there ever guarantee to cure a
patient of anything, and when they do make such a guar
antee they charge a young fortune for it.
If I told you such a thing could happen over here, you’d say
I was crazy. But just the same that’s exactly what I am going
to tell you.
Don’t be too fast about hopping on me though. Before you start call
ing me names, listen to this story from Distinguished Adventurer Saul
Kaplan of Brooklyn, N. Y.
Saul isn’t a doctor, but in the summer of 1921 he was living with
one out in Arverne, on Long Island. He was with the Doc the night his
adventure happened—and Saul managed to have an adventure of his own
before it was all over. For a while there, lives were batted around like
the little ivory ball on a roulette wheel. And nobody knew at what sec
ond he was going to see his own life drop into the zero slot—when he was •
going to watch the Great Croupier, Fate, lean over the board and rake
in all his chips.
Called to a Dying Baby.
It was a hot night in July, and along about the middle of it Saul
was awakened by a loud pounding on the front door of the bungalow in
which he and the Doc were summering. He answered the knock and
there before him stood an excited little Italian who waved his arms fran
tically and clamored for the doctor. His baby was sick. He thought it
was going to die. He wanted the doctor to come right away.
. Saul woke the Doc, and together they went to the Italian’s house. t
The Italian had been right. His bambino was plenty sick. It was
diphtheria, and it had been neglected so long that the poor kid didn’t have
a chance. But the Doc went to work with his sleeves rolled up, and did
what he could. He sent Saul to a drug store for an opiate and fed one of
i_i_m_wmnm
The Italian Brandished a Bread Knife.
the little white pills to the child. Then, while Saul went home to get
some sleep, he continued his almost hopeless battle to snatch a baby’s
life from between the grinding jaws of death.
Got Back Just in Time.
But when he got home, Saul couldn’t sleep. He tossed around on the ^
bed, a prey to a strange hunch that something terrible was about to
happen to the Doc. Finally at 6 a. m., he got up, dressed and went
over to the Italian’s house to see how Doc was getting along. And he
didn’t get there one second too soon!
As Saul went in, a piercing shriek came from somewhere in
the back room of the house. Saul says he knew that shriek meant
trouble, but he wasn’t prepared for what followed. He ran into
the sick room. The Doc stood in the center of the room, his
face blanched white, while, facing him, the little Italian brandished
a bread knife and wildly accused him of killing his child with
"poisonous” pills.
The Italian lowered the knife when Saul entered the room, but tee
continued to scream and rage, threatening to kill them both for the mu»
der of his child. And Saul knew, by the look in his eye, that he meajit
every word he said.
Saul knew too that if he didn’t want to see the Doc killed and maybe
be killed himself, he’d have to work fast. He had an idea in mind, but
the risk involved in carrying it out was almost as great as facing the
grief-crazed Italian with his long knife.
Saul Had a Bright Idea.
"How many pills did he give the baby?” he asked.
"One,” the Italian replied.
"One pill killed your baby?” Saul Asked incredulously. "That isn’t
possible. Look—I’ll take all these.” He picked up the bottle, poured
out a handful of the narcotic pills, and swallowed them. “If these pills
are poison and killed your baby,” he said, “then I’ll die too.”
And nobody but Saul and the Doc knew how close to death he
was at that moment. A single one of those pills was soothing and
harmless. But Saul had taken an overdose—enough to kill and
kill quickly unless antidotes were soon applied.
It was all a question of how convincing Saul’s act had been to the little
Italian. If he believed, and let the two men go immediately, the Doc could
work the effects of those pills out of his system. But if the Italian held
them there—even so much as ten or fifteen minutes—then Saul would
drop off into a long, endless sleep, and the Italian’s knife would find its
place in the Doc’s body. For a long moment, both Doc and Saul held
their breath. Then the little Italian dropped the knife and hung his head.
Half a minute later, Saul and the Doc were out of that house, racing for
their own cottage.
Then the Battle With Sleep.
After that came another battle—a battle with sleep. The Doc poured
stimulants into Saul—walked him up and down the floor. It took an hour’s
fight before he was out of danger, and in that hour Saul wondered a jliod ^
many times if maybe he hadn’t traded one death for another. At the
end of an hour, though, the Doc decided that most of the drug had been
worked off. Saul went to bed, then, a very sleepy man. But that ghastly
night had come mighty darned close to making him a dead one.
Copyright.—WNU Service.
"Tiger of Insect World"
A “tiger of the insect world” is
the praying mantis. Though harm
less to men, animals and plants,
mantis devour each other, flies,
grasshoppers, worms, moths, butter
flies. In South America, large man
tis have been known to attack and
kill small frogs, lizards and birds.
The name comes from the shape of
their front legs, always held up
like the hands of a person in prayer.
A mantis also is called soothsayer,
mule killer, devil horse, rear horse
and camel-cricket. In China, man
tis are kept in bamboo cages,
matched like fighting cocks.
Dog Sports Gold Tooth
Australia's proudest dog is the pet
of a dentist of Bendigo. He sports a
gold tooth. Recently the animal, a
trusty watch dog, developed tooth
ache. His master took him to his
surgery, drilled the tooth and
capped it with gold. The pet ac
cepted the treatment without a mur
mur.
Thought Without Language
Language in its broadest sense is
any means of expressing thought, so
that a. dog which barks to attract
attention tir wags his tail to show
pleasure is putting his thought into
language. There is a common say
ing that a thought may be too deep •
to be put into words. Infants who
have not yet learned to talk
have their own way of expressing
their thoughts. In generalHJ may m
be said that language is absolutely
necessary for any depth of thought.
Samuel Johnson said "Language is
the dress of thought” and^garlyle
said "Language is the flesh-gar
ment. the body of thought.”
Survive Without Breathing
Seals, beavers and muskrats,
which can withstand submersion for
about five times as long as land
mammals, reveal that their ability
to survive without breathing is due
to insensitivity of their respiratory
adjustments to carbon dioxide.