Five Mile Beach weekly journal., 1910-02-11

chose. Certainly the home he had es-
tablished was a fitting vantage ground
from which to wage a war of dollars
against the precipitous embellishments
with which the city's -Four Hundred
size. the Nolan residence was equally
palatial In its furnishings. and only
the magic word from the magic lips
of a single member Of the magic realm
of the aristocracy" was necessary to
send monogrammed coaches in long
lines to the Nolan doors, to fill the cost
ly rooms with distinguished faces. to
fill to overlooking with happiness the
~yearning heart of Mrs. Michael Nolan.
But the word had not yet been spo-
ken.
1t was now late In the afternoon
at the Nolan home. Phyllis walked
across the drawing room. irritation
plainly marking her pretty pink and
white face. The music of a string
orchestra stationed in the conserva-
tory ceased. She addressed a servant
who stood at attention at a door at the
right which led to the dining room.
pitcher" she said discouragedly, 81
don't think any n else will come, SO
tell the musicians they car go"
YES, Miss Phyllis"
At this point Mrs. Nolan came storm
ing In. carrying a huge bunch of hot
house grapes In her hand.
pitcher, | noticed those caterer men
are drinking all the champagne. and l
want it stopped" she ordered loudly.
Pitcher bowed and wen out.
II J gassss wort come mere 70
Drink it, at least NORTHUMBERLAND our
Selves Mrs. Nolan announced to Phyl-
lis. "Well. we have done it-sent
out 400 cards. and who's been here
that anybody wants to see! This is
the second time we've gone to all this
trouble and expense for nothing and
nobody. and If you'll take my advice 1t
will be the last"
Mamma, Pitcher will hear" the girl
protested.
The mother bit a grape from the
bunch. She deposited the skin and
stones In a Sevres vase on the marble
mantel.
.Phyllis, what did you have to pay
that musician she asked.
well. his price is a thousand dol
lars"
Good gracious"
But | got him for $3.50. I promised
the Advance would help him."
"Seven fifty for playing twice. I'd
rather hear the band" Mrs. Nolan bit
off another grape.
you don't understand. mamma. Ev-
erybody's wild over that yiolinist."
at seems there wasn't nobody wild
enough to come here +
There wasn't anybody" spoke
Phyllis. correcting her mother.
"Well, was there" retorted the
mother as she dropped the grape skin
in another vase.
"Oh, dear" Phyllis walled disconso'
lately as she seated herself before q
small stand. don't rub it in, mamma
l can't help it."
Now, who's blaming you, childY'
consoled the mother. "There, don't
cry. I'm not so disappointed about
myself, but | can't bear to see you
snubbed right and left. You are good
enough to go with any of these people
and you shall too. It's that newspaper
that's at the bottom of 1t. People
won't have it. or us because of 1t. and
l mean to tell your father so too. And
that's why these at homes is nc
good"
Are no good. mamma %tearfully.
"Well, are they? 1t would have been
better to put your $3.50 into suffra-
getting. That's what gets you in with
the right p~eople-not that | care to
vote, but | don't want the men to say
/ can't"
Sylvester DoIan interrupted the con
~versation between mother and daugh.
ter by appearing before them with his
bosom friend. Max Powell, who be
lieved himself to have the makings OF
a master poet. 1t was with deepest
pride hat the Nolan son presented
Powell, long haired, sallow faced anC
seedily dressed. to his mother and sis
ter. Sallow faced? Indeed. his coun
Ienduce ndu That SICILY SleeH1Sh yer
low hue that comes from long de
vouring of the muses. and long alb
stinence from the devouring of food.
Hello. mammai" he cried enthusi
astically. Here's a friend of mine
want you to know-Mr. Powell. thu
poet"
How do you do, Mr.. Powell? You
Ioolr &C If II wouId he easy for Won II
write poetry. Do you know. poetr,