Life — December 6, 1906 — page 48: what you’re looking at

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

YOU WITH THE CON- FIDENCE WE HAVE IN BAKER ELECTRIC CARRIAGES Your Selection Would Be Made Designed by electrical and mechanical experts, whose thoughts are concentrated upon Electric Vehicles. BAKERS are not offered as a side issue to which half thought and half time are given. The sole and single purpose of the BAKER fac- tory is the manufacture of BAKER ELECTRICS. Our new factory is the largest in the world devoted exclusively to making electric automobiles. We employ the choicest materials in every detail of their construction and finish, producing vehicles which in every minute particular cannot be equalled for thorough excellence. THE BAKER ELECTRIC BROUGH 4M, our latest produc- tion, is the most exquisite creation known to the automobile world. It is absolutely correct in its appointments, noiseless, safe, speedy, power- ful and always ready—from every standpoint a dignified, perfect vehicle for town use. We also offer Imperials, Stanhopes, Suburbans, Victorias, Surreys, Depot Carriages and other new models to be an- nounced later, TIE BAKER BROCCHAM. PRICE $4000.00 Write fer Catalog and Prices. THE BAKER MOTOR VEHICLE CO., 10 Jessie St., Cleveland, 0. Which Auto Tire is REALLY BEST? Read this PROOF and KNOW Here is a statement from the last official re- ports of the Tire Associaton, showing the errgcniaes of replacements to output yall the leading tige manufacture lor eleven months, beginning Sept. 1, 1905, and ending Aug. I, 1906. 4 3 91 at 18.43 Read this carefully. It tells its own story. It Capaash definitely and fully the heretotore question Which Automobile Tire. is Really Best? The above is PROOF absolute and positive, taken direct from the actual books of the defunct Tire Association, that the Goodyear Detachable Auto-Tire ia the bert tire any motorist can buy. If you would know the details as to WHY it is better mote durable—mote generally satisfactory every ask us to send, you our book of iaformaton, "How to 0 Asto- Tite.” ‘tee asd worth having—or step in a @ demonstration. You may learn how to way branch and secure .VE MONEY. Goodyear Detachable The Goodyear Tire & Rubber Co., Wayne St., Akron, Ohio Auto-Tire on BRANCHES: Boston, 261 Dartmouth St.; New York, cor. Universal Gath Stand Broadway! Chicago, 8284 M : ‘i St. Louis. 7 i Ly < Rim Bi St “Certainly, I meant it. I should say that for a thousand dollars” — “Then your hubby came around, did he?” Mrs. Cromwell smiled. She assumed a confidential air. “T must tell you something,” she said. ‘‘My husband is the most gener ous of men.” “What!” “Oh, yes, indeed. Positively reckless.” “What do you mean?” “Precisely what I say. It is I who am mean. You see it wouldn't do for us both to be extravagant, and so for years now I have repressed myself. It was dreadful of me, wasn’t it, to make people think he didn’t give me any- thing? But you know I felt that we ought to save. Now” —— Mrs. Dimpleton clutched her friend’s arm in her surprise. “I’m so glad it’s that way,” she exclaimed. “How we have been de- ceived in him! Do you know, I just couldn’t tell you all the cross, horrid things I’ve said about him. How he has ground you down—and in other ways he is such a nice fellow. It seemed such a shame. Oh, I’m so glad it isn’t true. And you, you dear deccitful thing, it’s you who have done it all.” “Tknow it. Wasn’tit horrid of me? But I’ve reformed. You showed me up a little the other day, you know, and I just said to myself, ‘I will break loose,’ and I’m going to do it. I’m not going to deny myself any more.” Mrs. Dimpleton had occasion to open her eyes still further during the course of the day With $5,000 in her wallet, a woman whose cravings have been pent up for years can have a fairly good time. And Mrs. Cromwell, to put it in Dim- pleton’s language when he heard of it, was on a real “financial jag.” When she got home that night she was more than usually tired. She had had, to say the least, ‘‘a day of it.” Packages had begun to arrive early in the afternoon. They were still coming in. Delivery wagons were arriving and departing in a stream. Mrs. Cromwell’s waitress, who had spent most of her time answering the door-bell, was almost prostrated with the unusual excitement. She never had seen anything like it before. Parcels were everywhere. ‘They filled the front hall. ‘They had drifted up the stairway and threatened the upper floors. Complete master of the situation, Mrs. Cromwell gave orders for their distribution. Boxes were uncovered. Paper was being torn away. There was a plethora of string, broken and cut, over all. In the midst of this scene of confusion, the door suddenly opened, and Cromwell, bowed to by two delivery men as they made way for him, entered. Mrs. Cromwell gazed up at him with a friendly smile. Speechless with astonishment, he looked at her for some moments in the utmost amazement. His eye ranged over a set of sables thrown carelessly over a chair, at a magnificent Persian rug half unrolled, at a table covered with cut glass, at rolls of chrysanthemum linen, Japanese counterpanes of exquisite silk, Oriental vases still dirty with straw, and at a hundred other articles of luxury. (Mrs. Cromwell explained afterward that “the silver hadn't come, as it had to be marked.”) At last he found voice to speak. “Do you mean to say,” he almost whispered, ‘that you got all this fora hundred dollars? If you did, you're a wonder. What's happened, anyway? Have you bought out an auction? Maybe they’ve gotten the wrong house. Is it all a dream?” Mrs. Cromwell went on unpacking. “Those are a few little things I got to-day, darling,” she said. “You told me to get them all at once, you know, so as not to have anything afterward. Wasn't that right, dearest ?” Cromwell took several deep breaths. Then he waded around among the packages and took a more minute survey of them. His inspection finished, he turned to his wife. His voice was calm—calm with an unutterable rage. go upstairs,” he said, ‘and settle this thing.” They faced each other in the front bedroom —the one that Mrs. Cromwell had just bought $200 worth of furnishings for. “How much have you spent?” “Now, you know, my dear, I never was much good at figures. I've bought a few little things—necessities. But perhaps I’ve spent two or three thousand—I really don’t believe it’s any more than this.” “What right, in heaven’s name, had you to squander my money?” “T didn’t.” “Whose was it, then?” “Mine!” Continued on page 604 comicbooks.com