San Antonio light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1911-1993, 1925-08-16
7 the convention of~beauty special
lists held recently in Chicago it was
decreed that the very latest and


~ lists held recently in Chicago it was
decreed that the very latest and
smartest thing for the well-dressed young
woman to do was to paint dainty little
pictures on her knees. Knees, it was
pointed out, have now come into their
own as one of woman's natural charms.
Because of rolled stockings and short
skirts they, like their fair owners, are
emancipated. Their possibilities should
not be neglected.
at is the very latest thing" said
Miss Ruth Maurer, who presided at the
meeting. "Hand-painted pictures on the
knees are intriguing. Some designs are
simple, some elaborate. Some girls prefer
flower or group of blossoms. Others
like portrait or little landscape. 1t
depends on ones type. But to have some
appropriate design on the knee is very
chic, proper and fashionable"
The new fad seems harmless enough
as such things go nowadays-but already
it has had some surprising and quite en-
barrassing results. .
Arthur x. Wilson, for instance, didn't
even know there was such a fad. Mr..
Wilson owns prosperous coal mine near
Carlisle in Pennsylvania, and it keeps him
pretty busy. He never has quite been able
to keep up with the latest wrinkles in the
smart world of fashion; but there was no
reason why he should try to. His attract
i've young wife, Clarice, promptly and
faithfully went in for every one of them
as fast as they came along.
Young Mr.. Wilson is a bit old-fashioned,
but he is not narrow-minded. When his
wife announced several years ago that she
was going to bob her hair he was de-
pressed But after she finally did it he
made the best of it, as so many other
husbands have done. When she took to
smoking cigarettes he raised his voice in
protest, but eventually he resigned him
self to that.
And when Mrs. Wilson, some months
later, surprised him by adding to their
household two small and particularly ugly
dogs, Mr.. Wilson put his foot down again.
He didn't like dogs, and he hated small
ones. He told Mrs. Wilson that there
wasn't room in the same house for him
and them-that either they left or he did.
Mrs. Wilson told him that she was going
to keep the dogs no matter what he said
or did, because it was the very latest
thing for woman to have two dogs, and
the uglier they were the better, from the
fashion standpoint. The dogs stayed, and
eventually somehow it became Mr.. Will
sons daily duty to take them out for
their evening walk. He did it under pro-
test, at a great sacrifice of self-respect,
merely to keep peace in his family. He
continued to hate the dogs. Indeed, as
time went on he grew to loathe them
with deep and growing bitterness. They
became the symbols of his utter defeat
as the head of his own house.
But he comforted himself with the
thought that since his wife had gone in for
every fool fad there was, at least there
was nothing new left for her to take up.
He was wrong. A few weeks ago he
came home and found her sitting on the
davenport reading a novel.
"Hello, dearP' she called out cheerily
without looking up from her book
Mr.. Wilson stared. He closed his eyes
tight and looked again. Mrs. Wilson had