Judge — October 19, 1918 — page 5: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Registering Maternal Instinct By Tuomas Epc ZLOW Illustrated by Aupert. Hencxe ERY prettily, and yet with a proper sense of the honor that she conferred upon him, Gloria, the darling of a hundred million Movie fans, accepted the young millionaire’s invitation to motor down to the shore in an endeavor to get cool. And Jim Shoggs—that was the young million- aire, whose father had made the money out of Shoggs’ Soothing Syrup—did not underestimate this privilege Unfortunately, he could not come into the actual possession of all those multi-millions until he arrived at the age of thirty, or married a girl of whom his Aunt Penelope approved. Still, Aunt Penelope had been badly bitten by the Movies in her old age, and she had greatly approved of oria_ in “Empty Hus- bands.” “But one thing I insist upon,” Aunt Penelope had added when speaking of the contemplated proposal. “The girl you marry must have the maternal instinct strongly developed. She must adore children.” At all of this Jim hinted as he drove Gloria shore- wards, and it happened that Gloria, who liked chil- dren only in their place (somewhere three hundred yards distant from her), knew also that Aunt Penelope was staying at the very seaside town where she and Jim were to spend the day. Also, Gloria*was tired of the burden of the picture-acting classes—work—and she liked Jim’s silk socks and the way he ate soft-boiled eggs. Later, emerging from her dressing room in the bath house—a vision in rose, gold and white, and clad in a black silk swimming suit—Gloria perceived Aunt Penelope seated in a beach chair, watching the surf bathers. Jim joined Gloria, and at that moment Gloria, who was tall and slender, stooped down to notice a most unattractive child who was peering up at her. Gloria’s twenty-second sense—for she had many—told her that interest in an unattractive child would register far better than if she fussed over some pretty little darling about whom most anyone would rav And little Billy—he said his name was Billy as a most unattractive boy, thin as a lath, and with a funny, too wise face that might have belonged to a wizened old man. “How old are you, Billy?’? Gloria asked tenderly, the while she registered maternal yearning and shud- dered inwardly, after the boy had told her his name. (Aunt Penelope was visibly interested.) “T shall never be seven again! Today’s my birth- ,”’ Billy answered quaintly. Swiftly Gloria stooped and caught up in her young arms the queer little figure in its gaudy red bathing suit, and bore him to where Aunt Penelope—now smi ing amiably—was sitting in her beach chair. “Then you and I—just we two—must play to- gether all the rest of the afternoon!” Gloria’s tones hinted at a great tenderness for that poor, pathetic little face. ‘We don’t have a birthday every day— do we?” Aunt Penelope wa had already met C s still more delighted, and, as she sria, she patted approvingly the comicbooks.com