The L'Anse sentinel. (L'Anse, L.S., Mich.) 18??-current, 1912-11-16
Reaching a
Compromise

Putting Jeffrey Weber and style
together In one thought would have
struck all his friends as most star
Ting act of lunacy, something In the
light of touching a match to bundle
of excelsior and daring 1t to burn.
/ All his life he had SHE'D at neck
ties on the theory that IL the benefi-
cent powers above had lowered a
man with chin whiskers tt~was rank
extravaganza for him to adorn himself
! with unseen finery. Likewise he could
/ not understand the blind foolishness
{ of masculine individuals who turned
from celluloid collars which one could
wash daily and thus save unnecessary
laundry bills. AS for clothes-they
were merely required for covering
This, then, was the problem An
toinette Weber had to wrestle with
when she came back from boarding
school and began to get the family ar
ranged for her wedding.
Being woman, her mother was
quite amenable to new ideas, but
when Antoinette tackled Jeffrey he
fguratively stood up on his hind legs
and roared a war cry.
Dress suit" he choked. me! At
my age! Cracky! Never!"
Now, father" Antoinette began
soothingly, quite as though she held
tablespoonful OF bitter medicine in one
hand and was prying open his teeth
with the ether. 81 want you to look
your best when Horace and his friends
get here"
Look my best!" her father roared
again. Dressed up like monkey on
a stick!"
And you've got to wear a tie" An
toinette broke in, firmly.
They revived Antionette's father
with tender care, but he never was the
same man after that. He gloomed
around the premises, surveying with
hostile eye the housecleaning prep
arations for the coming wedding and
he developed jumpiness at every
thing unusual and suspicious.
Antoinette was in despair. She was
marrying into rather fashionable
family and the thought Of Horace's
college friends and his family arriv.
ing to find that while her father had
heavy bank account he had no sense
of sartorial values was a tragedy.
Horace and his party won't get
here till the day ITSELF" Antoinette
told her mother in one Of their hope
less conferences. "They won't notice
dad so much then, but In the evening,
at the wedding-mother, I'll just die If
he wears that baggy old gray sack
suit and his celluloid collar and no
tie!"
Then I'm afraid you're due to die,
daughter, said Mrs. Weber, who had
been married to Antoinette's father
long enough to know.
Il won't!" snapped Antoinette, with
the blind faith Of youth in it's powers.
"I'll manage 1t somehow. I'm not GO
ing to have the only wedding I'll have
in my whole life spoiled by fathers
ridiculous stubbornness!"
She and her father eyed each other
warily toward the last, like gladiators
before the fight. Her father ostenta-
tiously bought new celluloid collar
and fresh ten cent collar button and
a new pair of calfskin boots.
The day OF the wedding Antoinette's
father, the only incouruous spot in
refurbished, decorated house, filled
with frills and fluff, went upstairs to
get ready for the evenings fray. Lay,
ing out his new collar and collar but
ton and simply tossing his old gray
clothes over chair, he stepped into
the bathroom for his additions. He
was absent 20 minutes.
When he came back to his room he
blinked. On the bed were spread some
strange black things. The COAT was
low cut and had long tails. Patent
leather pumps stood fiendishly beside
q pair of silk socks. There were also
some weird stand-up linen collars and
a box of white ties and a large
boscmcd shirt. There was nothing eise
i'll tie way OF clothes in the room.
Nobody paid any attention to his
rawlings and poundings, for everybody
was dressing the bride or was getting
dressed. Choking, gasping, hectic
with rage, Antoinette's father danced
in his bathrobe, poking a finger now
and then at the hated garments.
Finally the wedding went on. Every
body was present but the brides IA
Their. After the ceremony and con-
CALCULATIONS the bride herself headed
a search party for him.
Holding her trailing satin skirt In
one hand, Antoinette, accompanied by
Horace, ran him down at last In the
most secluded corner of the haymow.
There he sat, hunched up. smoking a
pipe fiercely. HIe had on the clothes,
swathed, punched around him, the
dress shirt and the high collar and all
but the collar button cleaned def
antly between the strands Of his whis-
kers. proclaiming his last stand-no
necktie! He glared at his daughter
and his newly achieved son-in-law.
Father" begged the bride tremu-
lousy, come down. please! It's time
to 20 in to supper. There's scalloped