The Birmingham age-herald., 1924-11-30

her automobile around from garage and seated herself at the wheel It , her habit to refresh her mind and improve health by daily drive.
 The world knows little of its greai women, and it is possible that Mrs. Port name is not familiar to you. It happens c too often that the uplifter of the public n is baked by disinclination on the part of public mind to meet him or her half way. uplifter does his share. He produces the lifting book. But the public. instead of sta ing still to be uplifted, wanders off to bro on colored supplements and magazine stor
 Unfortunately Mrs. Porter's public small. In fact. her only real disciple. as sometimes told herself in her rare mood. Encouragement, was her niece, Ruth Ban ter, daughter of John Bannister. the mill aire. It was not 80 long ago. she refe. with pride, that she had induced Ruth to fuse to marry Basil Milbank-a consider' feat, he being young man of remark personal attractions and great match every way. Mrs. Porter's objection to was that his father had died believing to last that he was teapot.
 There is nothing evil or degrading in believing oneself g teapot, but it argues a certain inaccuracy of the thought proc esses; and Mrs. Porter had used all her influence with Ruth to make her reject Basil. She had come now to look on Ruth's destiny as something for which she was personally responsible--a fact which was noted and resented by others, in particular Ruth's brother Bailey.
 To Bailey, his strong-minded relative was a perpetual menace, a sort of per- ambulating yellow peril, and the fact that she often alluded to him as a worm consolidated his distaste for her.
 Mrs. Porter released the clutch and set out on her drive. She always drove z herself and, having, like a good sufRra. gist, a contempt for male prohibitions. took an honest pleasure in exceeding a E man-made speed limit. B
 One hesitates to apply the term joy rider" to SO eminent leader of con- temporary thought as the authoress ofss "The Dawn of Better Things" "Prin. ciples of Selection. and "What of To- morrow?" but candor co,npels the ad. mission that she was somewhat reck- less driver. At any rate, after hard S mornings work on her new book she !. felt that her mind needed cooling, and \ found that the rush of air against her face effected this satisfactorily. The greater the rush, the quicker the cooling. However, as the alert inhabitants of Manhattan Island, a hardy race trained from infancy to dodge taxicabs and am- bulance wagons, had always removed themselves from her path with their usual agility, she had never yet had an accident.
 But then she had never yet-met George Pennicut. And George, pawn of f was even now waiting round the corner to set her record.
 George, man of all work to Kirk Winfi one of the youngest and least efficient of \ York's artist colony, was English. He been in America some little time, but long enough to accustom his rather unreG tive mind to the fact that, whereas in native land vehicles kept to the left, in country of his adoption they kept to the rig and it was still his boneheadsd practice, VI stepping off the sidewalk, to keep a wary k out in precisely the wrong direction. ? Today Mrs. Porter, having circled the p in rapid time, turned her car down Cent Park West. On reaching 61st st. she found way blocked by numbering delivery waa She followed 1t slowly for while; then, gr ling tired of being merely a'unit in q pro sion. rugged at the steering wheel, and tur to the right.