Carney Enterprise. (Carney, Okla.), Vol. 14, No. 50, Ed. 1 Friday, July 9, 1915 Page: 10 of 12
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CARNEY. OKLA., ENTERPRISE
The Married Life of Helen and Warren
By MABEL HERBERT URNER
Originator of "Their Married Life." Author of "The
Journal of a Neglected Wife," "The Woman Alone," etc.
Helen Is Furious When Warren Condones the Petty Dis-
honesty of Their Maid
(Copyright, 1915, by the McClure Newspaper Syndicate.)
Mabel H. Urner.
"But we can't keep a girl that's
dishonest!" protested Helen.
answer was an
as he flipped the
ashes from his
cigar to the edge
of his salad plate.
"And the brazon
way she denied
ly. "She kept
saying It was
hei'B! I had to get
the bolt and show
her where she'd
cut It off before
she'd admit she'd
"Oh, well, what's
a few ribbons, anyway?"
"If she takes ribbons, she'll take
other things. I'll always feel I can't
trust—" Then as Emma entered with
the coffee: "Did you have a busy
day, dear? Many people in?"
Emma's usually placid face was
slightly flushed. Had she been lis-
tening? Helen waited until they were
hi the library, out of the reach of pos-
sible eavesdropping, then she went on
"It's the feeling that she goes
through my things when I'm out—
that's what makes me wild! Tkat rib-
bon was In a box way in the back
of the drawer—she had to go through
everything to find it."
"Ix)ck your door."
"Oh, 1 can't lock up things! I won't
have a girl I can't trust!"
"Well, it's up to you. Fire her If
you want to—but she's an A-l cook."
And, drawing up a chair for his feet,
Warren settled back with the paper.
Helen took up the last Woman's
Journal and turned to "Tffe War's In-
fluence on Early Spring Fashions."
Her mind passed unmeaningly over
the words. She was thinking of come
narrow lace In the same drawer with
that ribbon—and all that sachet she
had brought from London!
Throwing down the magazine,
Helen ran into her room and got out
the lace. There was so much of it,
eeveral yards might have been cut off;
she could not tell. But the sachet was
all there—four unopened bottles, the
one on her dresser and one she had
While she had these things out,
Helen started to straighten her draw-
er, her mind still revolving around
the problem of Emma.
"What's going on in there?" called
Warren complainingly, who, although
burled in his paper, always wanted
her with him in the evening.
"In Just a minute, dear; I'm putting
away some things."
Before going back to the library,
Helen went out to the kitchen to
speak about the com muffins for
breakfast. But Emma was not there.
She had hurried through her dishes
and was gone—probably to the
"movies" with Mrs. Carson's maid.
The kitchen was dark, but In
Emma's room the light was still
burning. As Helen went In to turn
It off, she glanced about disapprov-
The dusty bureau was littered with
hairpins, curlers and picture post-
cards One of the drawers was half
open, giving a glimpse of the confu-
Helen stood with her hand raised
to switch off the light, struggling with
a sudden impulse to look through
Emma's things. She had always re-
spected the privacy of a girl's room,
but Iimma had taken that ribbon and
she had a right to know if she had
taken anything else.
Hesitatingly she turned to the
dresser and opened the top drawer.
Underneath a tangle of soiled hand-
kerchiefs, collars and ribbons, Helen
was amazed to find a number of
things she had thrown away—a
broken comb, a velvet rose, an
empty perfume bottle and some old
Why had she saved those worth-
less things? It could hardly be called
dishonest, but it showed a desipe to
hoard that Helen did not like.
In the next drawer were an old silk
petticoat and a lace yoke that only
last week she had wrapped in a
bundle and put on the dumb waiter.
So Emma had unwrapped the bundle
and taken them out!
Helen turned from the bureau to
the narrow closet. As she opened the
door an old straw hat of Warren's
tumbled down from the upper shelf.
What could the girl want with that?
A hasty search disclosed nothing
else. With a thorough distaste for
the work, Helen shut the closet door,
but a roll of clothes kept it from
latching. As she lifted the bundle to
push it back—underneath, In a torn
bit of tissue paper, gleamed some-
thing pink and satiny.
Helen caught it up. It was over
two yards of wide ribbon—enough to
run in a skirt.
The next moment she was lfi the
library, shaking the ribbon at War-
ren with an excited, vehement "This
settles it! She'll have to go! Look
what I found in her room!"
"Eh, what's that?" irascibly, glaring
over his paper.
"I knew she took a lot of narrow
ribbon—but I didn't know she took
this! She had it hidden in the.bottom
of her closet! Now do you want me
to keep her?"
"Who said I wanted you to keep
her? All I want Is to be let alone!"
Wrought up to a feverish indigna-
tion, Helen could hardly wait until
Emma returned. She would tell her
tonight that when her month was up
she would have to go. Why, the girl
was brazen—absolutely brazen.
And she had come with a reference
for honesty! That showed how little
a reference meant. Helen was walk-
ing excitedly up and down.
"You know what I'm going to do!"
tempestuously, again confronting
Warren. "I'm going to call up
Emma's reference right now and a6k
what she meant by saying the girl
Go ahead! Whoop it up!" with
A hurried search through her desk,
and Helen found the address—Mrs.
Lewlson, Lenox 8174.
A moment later she had Mrs. Lewi-
son on the 'phone.
"This is Mrs. Curtis! I'd like to
speak to you about a maid, Emma
Anderson. I believe she had a ref-
erence from you?"
"Yes, I gave hef a reference," In
a questioning voice.
"And I think you said sh# was hon-
est. Well, I—I'm sorry to say I
, haven't found her so—that is in small
"Was it ribbons?" laughingly.
"Why—how do you know?"
"That was Emma's weakness. She
would take ribbons to run in her un-
derwear—but as long as she was with
me she never took anything else."
"Then you think she can be trusted
with the silver and other—"
"Absolutely. She was here over a
year and I fusted her with every-
thing. I consider her a very good girl,
and I didn't hesitate to give her a
reference. You know most of them
have worse faults than—"
"Yes, I know," murmured Helen,
"only I wanted to be sure."
When she ljung up the receKer she
turned to Warren with a puzzled,
"Dear, she says it's only ribbons! The
girl has a mania for ^ribbons, but:
she's really honest in every other
"Why in blazes don't you give her
some ribbon—if that's all she wants."
"But she was so untruthful about
it," unheedingly. "She insisted the
ribbon was hers!" Then, with sudden
intensity, "Now'I know what I'll do!
I'll give her another chance. I'll put
this piece back, and when she comes
in I'll ask her if she's sure she re-
turned it all."
With deliberate care Helen put the
ribbon back under the bundle of
clothes in Emma's closet, then left
the hall door open so she could hear
her come in. It was ten now, and
she rarely stayed out after half past..
While she waited, Helen rehearsed
just what she would say. She would
not seem angry or excited, but if
Emma insisted that there was no
more ribbon in her room, then she
would go straight to the closet and
lift up the bundle of clothes. With
a grim satisfaction she pictured this
scene and the girl's confusion.
At last came the sound of a clos-
ing door—Emma had come in.
Resolutely Helen went out to her
room. At the door she hesitated. The
tranoOm was open, and she could hear
the girl humming, and talking to
"Is Pussy hungry?" A faint, an-
swering "mew." "Does Pussy want
Helen drew back into the dark as
Emma's door opened with a flood of
light. She was going out to the
kitchen for the milk, still talking to
Pussy Purr-Mew in her cooing, girl-
Standing irresolutely in' the dark-
ened dining room, Helen thought of
what M s. Lewison had said—that the
girl was young and vain and had a
weakness for ribbons, but that she
was absolutely honest about every-
thing else. Somehow Helen's indig-
nation and resentment were waning.
She thought, too, of the trouble and
worry of breaking in another girl,
who might have worse faults and
more of them. Might it not be easier
to simply lock up her ribbons and say
Another moment of indecision, and
Helen noiselesly left the dining
"Well, how about it?" demanded
Warren, when she came back and
took up the magazine with an effac-,
ing, uncommunicative air. "Did she,
"I didn't ask her. I—Ithought I'd
let tt go this time."
"Petered out, eh? Kicked up a dust
about nothing? Give the girl some
ribbcm, I tell you, if that's all she
wants. Can't expect a paragon for
five a week. Where's the other part
of this paper?"
REWARD OF INSOMNIA
Bee Is Busy But Unwise.
The bee may be a busy little in-
sect, but it has no common sense. At
least Henri Fabre says so, and Fabre,
you know, has been called the "In-
sects' Homer" by Maeterlinck. Fabre
gives many proofs of his assertion, for
He opened the bottom of a cell in
the course of construction, but the
bee that was building it kept right on
with its work, building up the cell and
storing honey in It, quite unconscious
of the fact that the food for the fu-
ture generation was oozing out, and
finally laid its egg and scaled up the
top of the cell, nevar paying any at-
tention u.> the hole in the bottom.
SLEEPLESS INDIVIDUAL HAS
At Least He Can Rest His Body, and
Listening for the Coming of the
Day 18 Pleasure to Be
Few ljien are more to be pitied than,
the oonfirmed "insomniafc." Few men,
seek mor? pity. Whoso cannot steep
must retail his tale of trouble to his,
associates, friends and chance ac-
quaintances. He expects considera-
tion and unconsciously demands ad-
But as a matter of fact, nearly ev-
ery wakeful person in culpably respon-
sible for his wakefulness. The longer
he stays awake the more nervous and'
more irritated he becomes. He comes'
to dislike himself, to dislike nature, to
dislike a world so poorly arranged.
His wakefulness is a tense mental
strain, more wearying than a day's
labor. The wearier he becomes the
more resentful he feels, and he rages
against his helplessness.
All of which is sheer folly. Going
to bed is as much for the purpose of
resting the body as of resting the
mind. If the mind refuses to rest, thQ
body should be given a fair chance.
Counting to impossible 'numbers and
such artificial devices are usually vain.
The best plan is to lie relaxed and at
ease, thinking of something altogethei
agreeable. A reading lamp at the head
of the bed and a handy book may be
resorted to. Even if one stays awake
thus for hours his body is resting,
and in the morning he is partly re-
freshed. Actual insomnia is very rare,
Fear of insomnia, or "insomnlapho-
bia," is the ailment from which most
sleepless persons suffer.
But if sleeplessness cannot be pu(
aside there is a certain reward fot
the sufferer He can listen for the
coming of the day, which is a pleas-
ure denied to healthy sleepers. Just
now he hears the first heralding of
dawn at about 3:45. The herald is a
rooster in some neighbor's back yard.
Heretofore that rooster has beeij
greatly disliked and the neighbor has
shared in his fowl's unpopularity
Raucous crowings have awakened
many a querulous slumberer. But
when one is wide awake the cheers
welc(#ne to the new dqy is altogether
agreeable. Chanticleer calls and caWs
and at length he has his ans^rs; oth
er rqosters near and far $end back
their sanction of his message of opti-
mism- and confidence. And if the lis
tener peers beneath the window shade
there is the first showing of the wa^j
mystic light which bathes the birth ol
Ten minutes more and a robin be.
gins his song. Once well begun he
does not cease for a long time. When
the light grows strong the robin be*
comes less enthusiastic and his song
is Intermittent. Only at the day'B be
ginning does Ivo sing his best and
A few more minutes pass and an
oriole commences to sing, or perhapt
a wren. And the busy English spar
rows cluck and chirp right beneath
the window. There comes a faint rum
ble from the awakening city. Th$
milkman clatters to the back door an<J
clatters away again. A little morning
breeze stirs the curtains, and a breath
of it, fresh and cool, comes to the
crumpled bed. A laborer passes whis-
tling on his way to work, fcmt it seems
a drowsy whistle. The robin's music
seems to subside Into a sleepy mono-
tone. There is the almost soundless
sound of the fitful wind in the maple
leaves. And then, and then—.—Cleve-
land Plain Dealer.
Fine for the Midgets.
A theater manager in Hungary sells
seats in accordance with the size of
his patrons, the shorter being seated
in the front rows and the taller be-
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Herbert, H. S. Carney Enterprise. (Carney, Okla.), Vol. 14, No. 50, Ed. 1 Friday, July 9, 1915, newspaper, July 9, 1915; Carney, Oklahoma. (gateway.okhistory.org/ark:/67531/metadc87999/m1/10/: accessed September 25, 2017), The Gateway to Oklahoma History, gateway.okhistory.org; crediting Oklahoma Historical Society.