Waterbury evening Democrat., 1904-04-18


 "I don't know what shall do with out him." she lamented T don't He Is so helpful. Did you see that morn ing how he showed me about the col OTIS? How to lay them on. What to do. That is a most unusual thing in an artist. Most of them wouldn't give you hint if you died for it, but he! don't know what in the wide world am to do without him."
 Here she buried her face in the pill lows and Judith looking on was shocked to see that her shoulders shook
 She left her work, took a seat in the rocking chair, and sat there for some time silently endeavoring, to the best of her ability, to express her sym pathy through the medium of mental telepathy, since she failed to find words.
 Bye and bye Louise lifting herself weariedly up. took out her sidecombs. combed back her hair, put them in again and began to talk
 "Of course" hesitatingly, "I must do without him. she said.
 Considering the unhappiness you
 
 should think you must"
 Louise got up and walked the floor for a space, not very far this way or that, for there wasn't room.
 Presently:
 Why will these men marry?" she exclaimed.
 Before they have seen us," finished Judith. 'It is just as we'll. If we were their wives they would soon find some other little artists around in studios that they would like better"
 The subject had grown in interest She concluded to give it her undivided attention.
 How would you like to be his wife?" she asked and some day come down and find yourself in his studio?"
 Louise stopped walking and stared.
 Find myself in his studio?" she questioned Imply.
 ''I mean find some other girl" Ju. dith hastened to explain.
 q shouldn't like it. she declared
 Then passionately:
 "It would kill mel
 Tt perhaps affects his wife in ex- actly the same way" remarked Judith calmly. "She wouldn't be woman if it didn't. Go on, though, if you must Then some fine morning she'll discover you. She'll find you in his studio and him gazing at you with those dreamy, shifting artist eyes of his and drop dead in her tracks. And it will be you, finally, that will be afther hav- in that death to answer fer, as Philip would say"
 Philip was the Irish janitor.
 All the laughter had gone out of Louise. Her eyes were sad. Slowly she walked to the door and opened it.
 "I'll give him up" she promised, adding reminiscently and with seem ing irreleyanee, the lovely little din- ners he took me out to!'
 Judith observed her in surprise, only half comprehendiEg.
 But" she added quickly, "I'il give him up. promise you and the door shut on the word.
 As Judith looked out the window at the heartening view of blackened chim- neys, she thought:
 "An honorable. straightforward girl, that l like her.
 What was her amazement then to see the girl on the following evening dressed in her best, going down in the elevator with Gilbert, going down blithely and out to dinner with him at some cafe; for she heard him say so.
 She smiled across at Judith anxious ly, propitiatingly; but she resolutely turned her back, refusing to speak. It was late that night.
 Judith had come home from her sol- itary dinner at little cafe brushed her hair, made her preparations for sleep, robbing the couch Of it's varie- gated day covering. and turning it into whitely counterpaned bed; and was lying on 1t, half dozing in the dark when she heard a light footstep in the hall end skirts brush against her door
 There came hoarse voice whisper ing outside. It was the voice of Louise, i "A dinner is a dinner" it whispered, and waited.
 Judith lay quite still. Not getting up and asking her in to sit on the side of her bed ard talk awhile. as she would formerly have done, Just lying there
 Under the ,circum said she. after a time, T think I would rather starve
 Then back came the voice from the 1 dark of the hall to the dark of her 1 room in cry revealing depths in the 1 life of the girl which happily Judith I had not sounded
 But you have never been hungry yet" 1t said repeating, "but you have 1 never been hungry yeti"
 Judith sat up and gazed into the l dark, which seemed all st once to her I frightened eyes to be filled with skele- ton fingers ready to clutch her, with 4 the relentless fingers of poverty, bony, merciless and grim.
 "Oh, no," she whispered back, her own voice hoarse as that of Louise in her fright, "I have never been hungry yeti"
 First Use. of Torpedoes.
 Torpedoes for the destruction of ves- sels were first used in the spring of 1861 by the confederates in the James river. In 1865 the secretary of the navy re- l norfad fhat more ships had been loSf hv