JANUARY, 1904 
 
 THE DELINEATOR 
 
 MRS. OSBORN WRITES ABOUt - 
 THE FASHIONS IN NEW YORK 9 
 
 Vo L X 1 1 1 
 
 , 
 
 No. 1 
 
 3H ED 
 
 MONTHLY BY THE B U TT E R I C K PUBLISHING CO. (LTD.) . PARIS-LONDON-N^V, YORK-TORONTO 
 
 P I ,\J\J A it AR ENTERED AT THE POST OFFICE. NEW YORK, AS SECOND CLASS MAIL MATTER 
 
 15 CENTS A COPY 
 
m The si, 
 
 BOY who 
 
 .cornered flie c 
 
 MipKFT 
 
 1 1/\i\l\Ll/ 
 
 JAY JOHNS lives in Western Pennsylvania. From the neighbor- 
 ing city of Pittsburg he has apparently absorbed some of the 
 spirit of its gigantic business combinations. Some time ago he 
 started to sell The Saturday Evening Post. During his first day's 
 work he encountered five other boys selling the magazine, and only 
 five regular customers were secured. Still he ordered fifteen copies 
 for the next week. He sold all of them and ordered thirty copies for 
 the next week. By that time three of the other boys had stopped 
 work, and again Jay " jumped " the order. 
 
 Three weeks later Jay received a special prize of $25.00. He 
 sent back the check and wrote this letter : 
 
 "7 want to be the only toad in this paddle. I can sell more copies 
 than all of them put together, anyway. Three of these boys have Quit, 
 and to-day I bought out the other two boys by giving them fifty cents 
 a piece. I am now the only boy here who sells THE POST. If you will 
 agree not to appoint anybody else so long as I sell a lot, you can 
 credit this $25.00 and send 100 copies for next week and 125 copies 
 each week thereafter." 
 
 The publishers did as he desired, and at the end of three months he was 
 selling nearly 200 copies a week. Then he looked up the other boys who had 
 stopped work and engaged them to work for him. They went to work under 
 Jay's direction and the "corner" was complete. 
 
 ANY BOY 
 
 willing to work a few hours on 
 Fridays and Saturdays can earn 
 money through The Saturday Evening Post plan. More 
 than 6000 do so each week. We will furnish the first 
 week's supply of ten copies without charge. You can 
 then send the wholesale price for as many as you find 
 you can sell the next week. 
 
 $300.00 in Extra Cash Prizes Next Month 
 
 If you will try it the first week's supply and full instructions will be sent. 
 
 Boy Department, The Curtis Publishing Company 
 455 Arch Street, Philadelphia, Pa. 
 
GOLDEN POPPY 
 
 A TRUE NARRATIVE 
 
 BY JACK LONDON, Author of " The Call of the Wild.' 
 
 1H A V E a poppy 
 field. That is, by 
 the grace of God 
 and the good 
 nature of editors, 
 I am enabled to 
 place each month divers 
 gold pieces into a clerical 
 gentleman's hands, and 
 return for said gold 
 pieces I am each month 
 reinvested with certain 
 proprietary rights in a 
 poppy field. This field 
 blazes on the rim of the 
 Piedmont Hills. Be- 
 neath lies all the world. 
 
 In the distance, across the silver sweep of bay, San 
 Francisco smokes on her many hills like a second Rome. 
 Not far away, Mount Tamalpias thrusts a rugged shoulder 
 into the sky ; and midway between is the Golden Gate, 
 where sea-mists love to linger. From the poppy field 
 we often see the shimmered blue of the Pacific beyond, 
 and the busy ships that go forever out and in. 
 
 " We shall have great joy in our poppy field," said Queen 
 Bess. " Yes," said I ; " how the poor city folk will envy 
 when they come to see us, and how we will make all well 
 again when we send them off with great golden armfuls ! '' 
 " But those things will have to come down," I added, 
 pointing to numerous obtrusive notices (relics of the last 
 tenant), displayed conspicuously along the boundaries and 
 bearing, each and all, this legend : 
 
 "Private Grounds. Xo Trespassing" 
 
 t" Why should we refuse the poor city folk a ramble over 
 ur field, because, forsooth, they have not the advantage 
 of our acquaintance? " 
 
 " How I abhor such things," said Queen Bess, " the 
 
 ogant symbols of power.'' 
 
 " They disgrace human nature," said I. 
 
 ' They shame the generous landscape," she said, " and 
 
 ey are abominable." 
 
 " Piggish ! " quoth I, hotly. " Down with them '. " 
 
 We looked forward to the coming of the poppies, did 
 Queen Bess and I, looked forward as only creatures of the 
 city may look who have been long denied. I have for- 
 gotten to mention the existence of a house above the poppy 
 field, a squat and wandering bungalow in which we had 
 elected to forsake town traditions and live in fresher and 
 more vigorous ways. The first poppies came, orange-yellow 
 and golden in the standing grain, and we went about glee- 
 fully, as though drunken with their wine, and told each 
 other that the poppies were there. We laughed at unex- 
 pected moments, in the midst of silences, and at times 
 grew ashamed and stole forth secretly to gaze upon our 
 treasury. But when the great wave of poppy-flame finally 
 spilled itself down the field, we shouted aloud, and danced, 
 and clapped our hands, freely and frankly mad. 
 
 And then came the Goths. My face was in a lather, the 
 time of the first invasion, and 1 suspended my razor in mid- 
 air t ga/e out on my beloved field. At the far end I saw 
 a little girl and a little boy, their arms filled with yellow 
 'Spoil. Ah, thought I, an unwonted benevolence burgeoning, 
 r what a delight to irre is their delight! It is sweet that 
 
 children should pick poppies in my field. All Summer 
 shall they pick poppies in my field. But they must be little 
 children, I added as an afterthought, and they must pick 
 from the lower end this last prompted by a glance at the 
 great golden fellows nodding in the wheat beneath my win- 
 dow. Then the razor descended. Shaving was always an 
 absorbing task, and I did not glance out of the window 
 again until the operation was completed. And then I was 
 bewildered. Surely this was not my poppy field. No and 
 yes, for there were the tall pines clustering austerely to- 
 gether on one side, the magnolia tree burdened with bloom, 
 and the Japanese quinces splashing the driveway hedge 
 with blood. Yes, it was the field, but no wave of poppy- 
 flame spilled down it, nor did the great golden fellows nod 
 in the wheat beneath my window. I rushed into a jacket 
 and out of the house. In the far distance were disappear- 
 ing two huge balls of color, orange and yellow, for all the 
 world like perambulating poppies of Cyclopean breed. 
 
 "Johnny," said I to the nine-year-old son of my sister, 
 "Johnny, whenever little girls come into our field to pick 
 poppies, you must go down to them, and in a very quiet and 
 gentlemanly manner, tell them it is not allowed." 
 
 Warm days came, and the sun drew another blaze from 
 the free-bosomed earth. Whereupon a neighbor's little girl, 
 at the behest of her mother, duly craved and received per- 
 mission from Queen Bess to gather a few poppies for 
 decorative purposes. But of this I was uninformed, and 
 when I descried her in the midst of the field I waved my 
 arms like a semaphore against the sky. 
 
 " Little girl ? " called I. " Little girl ! " 
 
 The little girl's legs blurred the landscape as she fled, 
 and in high elation I sought Queen Bess to tell of the 
 potency of my voice. Nobly she came to the rescue, de- 
 parting forthwith on an expedition of conciliation and 
 explanation to the little girl's mother. But to this day the 
 little girl seeks cover at sight cf me, and I know the mother 
 will never be as cordial as she would otherwise have been. 
 
 Came dark, overcast days, stiff, driving winds and pelt- 
 ing rains, day on day, without end, and the city folk cowered 
 in their dwelling places like flood-beset rats ; and like rats, 
 half-drowned and gasping when the weather cleared, they 
 crawled out and up the green Piedmont slopes to bask in 
 the blessed sunshine. And they invaded my field in swarms 
 and droves, crushing the sweet wheat into the earth and 
 with lustful hands ripping the poppies out by the roots. 
 
 " I shall put up the warnings against trespassing," I said. 
 
 " Yes," said Queen Bess, with a sigh. " I'm afraid it is 
 necessary." 
 
 The day was yet young when she sighed again : *' I'm 
 afraid, O Man, that your signs are of no avail. People 
 have forgotten how to read, these days." 
 
 I went out on the porch for verification. A city nymph, 
 in cool Summer gown and picture hat, paused before one 
 of my newly reared warnings and read it through with 
 care. Profound deliberation characterized her movements. 
 She was statuesquely tall, but with a toss of the head and 
 a flirt of the skirt she dropped on hands and knees, crawled 
 under the fence, and came to her feet on the inside with 
 poppies in both her hands. I walked down the drive and 
 talked ethically to her, and she went away. Then I put up 
 more signs. 
 
 At one time, years ago, these hills were carpeted with 
 poppies. As between the destructive forces and the will 
 " to live," the poppies maintained an equilibrium with their 
 environment. But the city folk constituted a new and terri- 
 
 77 
 
 f or Jan u JIT. i 004 
 
ble destructive force, the equilibrium was overthrown and possibly one in fifty has heard. Also, I have discovered 
 
 that the relation of city folk to country flowers is quite 
 analogous to that of a starving man to food. No more than 
 the starving man realizes that five pounds of meat is not 
 so good as an ounce, do they realize that five hundred 
 poppies crushed and bunched are less beautiful than two 
 or three in a free cluster, where the green leaves and 
 golden bowls may expand to their full loveliness. 
 
 Less forgivable than the unassthetic are the mercenary- 
 hordes of young rascals who plunder me and rob the 
 future that they may stand on street corners and retail 
 " California poppies, only five cents a bunch ! " In spite 
 of my precautions some of them made a dollar a day out 
 
 of my field. One horde 
 do I remember with keen 
 regret. Reconnoitering for 
 a possible dog, they applied 
 at the kitchen door for " a 
 drink of water, please." 
 While they drank they 
 were besought not to pick 
 any flowers. They nodded, 
 wiped their mouths and 
 proceeded to take them- 
 selves off by the side of 
 the bungalow. They smote 
 the poppy field beneath 
 my windows, spread out 
 fan-shaped six wide, pick- 
 ing with both hands, and 
 ripped a swath of destruc- 
 tion through the very heart 
 of the field. No cyclone 
 travelled faster or destroy- 
 ed more completely. I 
 shouted after them, but 
 they sped on the wings of 
 the wind, great regal pop- 
 pies, broken-stalked and 
 mangled, trailing after 
 them or cluttering their 
 wake the most h i g 11- 
 handed act of piracy, I 
 am confident, ever com- 
 mitted off the high seas. 
 
 the poppies well-nigh perished. Since the city folk plucked 
 those with the longest stems and biggest bowls, and since 
 it is the law of kind to procreate kind, the long-stemmed, 
 big-bowled poppies failed to go to seed, and a stunted short- 
 stemmed variety remained to the hills. And not only was 
 it stunted and short-stemmed, but sparsely distributed as 
 weH. Each day and every day, for years and years, the 
 city folk swarmed over the Piedmont Hills, and only here 
 and there did the genus of the race survive in the form 
 of miserable little flowers, close clinging and quick bloom- 
 ing, like children of the slums dragged hastily and pre- 
 cariously through youth to a shrivelled and futile maturity. 
 
 On the other hand, the 
 poppies had prospered in 
 my field ; and not only had 
 they been sheltered from 
 the barbarians, but also 
 from the birds. Long ago 
 the field was sown in 
 wheat, which went to seed 
 unharvested each year, and 
 in the cool depths of which 
 the poppy seeds were hid- 
 den from the keen - eyed 
 songsters. And further, 
 climbing after the sun 
 through the wheat stalks, 
 the poppies grew taller and 
 taller and more royal even 
 than the primordial ones 
 of the open. 
 
 So the city folk, gazing 
 from the bare hills to my 
 blazing, burning field, were 
 sorely tempted, and, it 
 must be told, as sorely fell. 
 But no sorer was their fall 
 than^that of my beloved 
 poppies. Where the grain 
 holds the dew and takes 
 the bite from the sun the 
 soil is moist, and in such 
 soil it is easier to pull the 
 poppies out by the roots 
 than to break the stalk. 
 Now the city folk, like 
 other folk, are inclined to 
 move along the line of least 
 resistance, and for each 
 flower they gathered, there 
 were also gathered many 
 crisp-rolled buds and with 
 them all the possibilities 
 and future beauties of the plant for all time to come. 
 
 Ond of the city folk, a middle-aged gentleman, with white 
 hands and shifty eyes, especially made life interesting for 
 me. We called him the " Repeater," what of his ways. 
 When from the porch we implored him to desist, he was 
 wont slowly and casually to direct his steps toward the 
 fence, simulating finely the actions of a man who had not 
 heard, but whose walk, instead, had terminated of itself or 
 of his own volition. To heighten this effect, now and 
 again, still casually and carelessly, he would stoop and pluck 
 another poppy. Thus did he deceitfully save himself the 
 indignity of being put out, and rob us of the satisfaction of 
 putting him out. But he came, and he came often, each 
 time getting away with an able-bodied man's share of 
 plunder. 
 
 It is not good to be of the city folk. Of this I am con- 
 vinced. There is something in the mode of life that breeds 
 an alarming condition of blindness and deafness, or so it 
 seems with the city folk that come to my poppy field. Of 
 the many to whom I have talked ethically not one has de- 
 veloped who has ever seen the warnings so conspicuously 
 displayed, while of those called out to from the porch, 
 
 SHE DROPPED ON HANDS AND KNEES, CRAWLED UNDER THE FENCE, 
 AND CAME TO HER FEET WITH POPPIES IN BOTH HANDS. Page 77. 
 
 One clay I went a-fish- 
 ing, and on that day a 
 woman entered the field 
 under full steam. Appeals 
 and remonstrances from 
 the porch having no effect 
 upon her, Queen Bess dis- 
 patched a little girl to beg 
 of her to pick no more 
 
 poppies. The woman calmly went on picking. Then 
 Queen Bess herself went down through the heat of the 
 day. But the woman went on picking, and while she 
 picked she discussed property and proprietary rights, deny- 
 ing Queen Bess's sovereignty until deeds and documents 
 should be produced in proof thereof. And all the time 
 she went on picking, never once overlooking her hand. 
 She was a large woman, belligerent of aspect, and Queen 
 Bess was only a woman and not prone to fisticuffs. So 
 the woman, still under full steam, picked until she could 
 pick no more, said " Good-day," and sailed majestically 
 away. 
 
 " People have really grown worse in the last several years, 
 I think," said Queen Bess to me in a tired sort of voice that 
 night, as we sat in the library after dinner. 
 
 Next day I was inclined to agree with her. " There's a 
 woman and a little girl heading straight for the poppies," 
 said May, a maid about the bungalow. I went out on the 
 porch and waited their advent. They plunged through the 
 pine trees and into the fields, and as the roots of the first 
 poppies were pulled I called to them. They were about a 
 hundred feet away. The woman and the little girl turned 
 78 
 
 The Delincat 
 
I And told each other that the poppies were there . 
 
 79 
 
to the sound of my voice and looked at me. " Please do 
 not pick the poppies," 1 pleaded. They pondered this for 
 a minute ; then the woman said something in an undertone 
 to the little girl, and both backs jack-knifed as the slaughter 
 recommenced. I shouted, but they had become suddenly 
 deaf. I screamed, and so fiercely that the little girl wavered 
 dubiously. And while the woman went on picking I could 
 hear her in low tones heartening the little girl. 
 
 I recollected a siren whistle with which I was wont to 
 summon Johnny, the son of my sister. It was a fearsome 
 thing, of a kind to wake the dead, and I blew and blew, 
 but the jack-knifed backs never unclasped. I do not mind 
 with men, but I have never particularly favored physical 
 encounters with women ; yet this woman, who encouraged a 
 little girl in iniquity, tempted me. 
 
 I went into the bungalow and fetched my rifle. Flourish- 
 ing it in a sanguinary manner and scowling fearsomely, I 
 charged upon the invaders. The little girl fled, screaming, 
 to the shelter of the pines, but the woman calmly went on 
 picking. She took not the least notice. I had expected 
 her to run at sight of me, and it was embarrassing. There 
 was I, charging down the field like a wild bull upon a 
 woman who would not get out of the way. I could only slow 
 down, superbly conscious of how ridiculous it all was. At 
 a distance of ten feet she straightened up and deigned to 
 look at me. I came to a halt and blushed to the roots of 
 my hair. Perhaps I really did frighten her (I sometimes 
 try to persuade myself that this is so), or perhaps she took 
 pity on me ; but, at any rate, she stalked out of my field 
 with great composure, nay, majesty, her arms brimming 
 with orange and gold. 
 
 Nevertheless, thenceforward I saved my lungs and flour- 
 ished my rifle. Also, I made fresh generalizations. To 
 commit robbery women take advantage of their sex. Men 
 have more respect for property than women. Men are less 
 insistent in crime than women. And women are less afraid 
 
 PICKED UNTIL SHE COULD PICK NO MORE, SAID " GOOD-DAY," 
 
 AND SAILED MAJESTICALLY AWAY. Page 78. 
 
 HE REGARDED ME SPEECHLESSLY. IT MUST HAVE MADE A GREAT 
 
 PICTURE 
 
 of guns than men. Likewise, we conquer the earth in 
 hazard and battle by the virtues of our mothers. We are 
 a race of robbers, of land-robbers and sea-robbers, we Anglo- 
 Saxons, and small wonder, when we suckle at the breasts 
 of a breed of women such as maraud my poppy field. 
 
 Still the pillage went on. Sirens and gun-flourishings 
 were without avail. The city folk were great of heart and 
 undismayed, and I noted the habit of " repeating " was be- 
 coming general. What booted it how often they were driven 
 forth if each time they were permitted to carry away their 
 ill-gotten plunder ? When one has turned the same person 
 away twice and thrice an emotion arises somewhat akin to 
 homicide. And when one has once become conscious of 
 this sanguinary feeling his whole destiny seems to grip hold 
 of him and drag him into the abyss. More than once I 
 found myself unconsciously pulling the rifle into position to 
 get a sight on the miserable trespassers.- In my sleep I 
 slew them in manifold ways and threw their carcasses into 
 the reservoir. Each day the temptation to shoot them in 
 the legs became more lurirf, and every day I felt my fate 
 calling to me imperiously. Visions of the gallows rose up 
 before me, and with the hemp about my neck I saw stretched 
 out the pitiless future of my children, dark with disgrace 
 and shame. I became afraid of myself, and Queen Bess 
 went about with anxious face, privily beseeching my friends 
 to entice me into taking a vacation. Then, and at the last 
 gasp, came the thought that saved me : Why not confiscate? 
 If their forays were bootless, in the nature of things their 
 forays would cease. 
 
 The first to enter my field thereafter was a man. I was 
 waiting for him. And oh, joy ! it was the" Repeater " him- 
 self, smugly complacent with knowledge of past success. I 
 dropped the rifle negligently across the hollow of my arm 
 and went down to him. 
 
 " I am sorry to trouble you for those poppies," I said in 
 my oiliest tones ; " but really, you know, I must have them." 
 
 He regarded me speechlessly. It must, have made a great 
 80 
 
 The Delineate 
 
picture. It surely was dramatic. With the rifle across my 
 arm and my suave request still ringing in my ears, I felt 
 like Black Bart, and Jesse James, and Jack Shepard, and 
 Robin Hood, and whole generations of highwaymen. 
 
 " Come, come," I said, a little sharply and in what I 
 imagined was the true fashion ; " I am sorry to inconvenience 
 you, believe me, but I must have those poppies." 
 
 I absently shifted the gun and smiled. That fetched 
 him. Without a word he passed them over and turned his 
 toes toward the fence, but no longer casual and careless 
 was his carriage, nor did he stoop to pick the occasional 
 poppy by the way. That was the last of the " Repeater." I 
 could see by his eyes that he did not like me, and his back 
 reproached me all the way down the field and out of sight. 
 
 From that day the bungalow has been flooded with pop- 
 pies. Every vase and earthen jar is filled with them. They 
 blaze on every mantel and run riot through all the rooms. 
 I present them to my friends in huge bunches, and still the 
 kind city folk come and gather more for me. " Sit down 
 for a moment," I say to the departing guest, " and in the 
 fulness of a few minutes your poppies shall be added 
 unto." And there we sit in the shade of the porch while 
 aspiring city creatures pluck my poppies and sweat under 
 the brazen sun. And when their arms are sufficiently 
 weighted with my yellow glories, I go down with the rifle 
 over my arm and disemburden them. Thus have I become 
 convinced that every situation has its compensations. 
 
 Confiscation was successful, so far as it went ; but I had 
 forgotten one thing ; namely, the vast number of the city 
 folk. Though the old transgressors came no more, new 
 ones arrived every day, and I found myself confronted with 
 the titanic task of educating a whole cityful to the inex- 
 pediency of raiding my poppy field. During the process 
 of disemburdening them I was accustomed to explaining 
 my side of the case, but I soon gave this over. It was a 
 waste of breath. They could not understand. To one 
 lady who insinuated that I was miserly, I said : 
 
 " My dear madam, no hardship is worked upon you. Had 
 I not been parsimonious yesterday and the day before, these 
 poppies would have been picked by the city hordes of that 
 day and the day before, and your eyes, which to-day have 
 discovered this field, would have beheld no poppies at all. 
 The poppies you may not pick to-day are the poppies I 
 did not permit to be picked yesterday and the day before. 
 Therefore, believe me, you are denied nothing." 
 
 " But the poppies are here to-day," she said, glaring car- 
 nivorously upon their glow and splendor. 
 
 " I will pay you for them," said a gentleman, at another 
 time. (I had just relieved him of an armful.) I felt a sud- 
 den shame, I know not why, unless it be that his words had 
 just made clear to me that a monetary, as well as an 
 aesthetic value was attached to my flowers. The apparent 
 sordidness of my position overwhelmed me, and I said, 
 weakly, " I do not sell my poppies. You may have what you 
 have picked." But before the week was out I confronted 
 the same gentleman again. " I will pay you for them," he 
 
 said. " Yes," I said, " you may pay me for them. Twenty 
 dollars, please." He gasped, looked at me searchingly, 
 gasped again, and silently and sadly put them down. But 
 it remained, as usual, for a woman to attain the sheerest 
 pitch of audacity. When I declined payment and demanded 
 my plucked beauties, she refused to give them up. " I 
 picked these poppies," she said, " and my time is worth 
 money. When you have paid me for my time you may 
 have them." Her cheeks flamed rebellion, and her face, 
 withal a pretty one, was set and determined. Now, I was 
 a man of the hill tribes, and she a mere woman of the city 
 folk, and though it is not my inclination to enter into details, 
 it is my pleasure to state that that bunch of poppies subse- 
 quently glorified the bungalow and that the woman departed 
 to the city unpaid. Anyway, they were my poppies. 
 
 " They are God's poppies," said the Radiant Young Radi- 
 cal, democratically shocked at sight of me turning city folk 
 out of my field. And for two weeks she hated me with 
 a deathless hatred. I sought her out and explained. I ex- 
 plained at length. I told the story of the poppy as Maeter- 
 link has told the life of the bee. I treated the question 
 biologically, psychologically and sociologically. I discussed 
 it ethically and aesthetically. I grew warm over it, and im- 
 passioned ; and when I had done, she professed conversion, 
 but in my heart of hearts I knew it to be compassion. 
 
 I fled to other friends for consolation. I retold the story 
 of the poppy. They did not appear supremely interested. 
 I grew excited. They were surprised and pained. They 
 looked at me curiously. " It ill-befits your dignity to squabble 
 over poppies," they said. " It is unbecoming." 
 
 I fled away to yet other friends. I sought vindication. 
 The thing had become vital, and I needs must put myself 
 right. I felt called upon to explain, though well knowing 
 that he who explains is lost. I told the story of the 
 poppy over again. I went into the minutest details. I 
 added to it, and expanded. I talked myself hoarse, and 
 when I could talk no more they looked bored. Also, they 
 said insipid things, and soothful things, and things concern- 
 ing other things and not at all to the point. I was con- 
 sumed with anger, and there and then I renounced them all. 
 
 At the bungalow I lie in wait for chance visitors. Craftily 
 I broach the subject, watching their faces closely the while 
 to detect first signs of disapprobation, whereupon I empty 
 long-stored vials of wrath upon their heads. I wrangle for 
 hours with whomsoever does not say I am right. I am be- 
 come like Guy de Maupassant's old man who picked up a 
 piece of string. I am incessantly explaining, and nobody 
 will understand. I have become more brusque in my treat- 
 ment of the predatory city folk. No longer do I take 
 delight in their disemburdenment, for it has become an 
 onerous duty, a wearisome and distasteful task. My 
 friends look askance and murmur pityingly on the side 
 when we meet in the city. They rarely come to see me 
 now. They are afraid. I am an embittered and disap- 
 pointed man, and all the light seems to have gone out of 
 my life and into my blazing field. So one pays for things. 
 
 T 
 
 fcr January, 1904 
 
 6 
 
], 
 
 ..Mi 
 
 Loveth Knowledge" 
 
 TO BE- 
 
 
 .24, 
 
 iORItL UHUtf 
 
 ' Hosiery 
 he world 
 
 7 PA.VS ONLV. 
 
 
 r 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 r. Every American is 
 irld in manufacturing, 
 d articles that we once 
 This fact is as true of 
 ichinery is far superior 
 mills is invented by us. 
 
 r hosiery. Twentw 
 Kact twist necessary t 
 
 uster and does not 
 
 iger after dyeing than 
 
 points where it is 
 
 f knees, heels and toes, 
 triple" Knee "Leather 
 _ boys' "four" thread 
 at the knee. No one 
 n. 
 
 ... hosiery THE BEST. 
 
 lachine whereby we know 
 
 s, but we sum it all up by 
 bearing our label, "satis- 
 
 girl, woman or man, from the 
 'Ik embroidered 
 
 .=aler does not keep them, sample pairs 
 ime, giving size you wear. 
 
 rkfs." .... 25C. 
 
 35c. 
 
 $1.00 
 
 25c. 
 25c. 
 25c. 
 25c. 
 5Oc. 
 
 are "just as good "they are not Order any of 
 and in wear they will prove the truthfulness of our 
 
 . 1U uu wTnno->nB.Biy uuy 0,11, other brand, foreign or American.afteryouhavegiven 
 the Black Cat Brand a trial, because you will realize they are the best-there are no exceptions. 
 
 tocKing's, 
 
 CHICAGO-ROCKFORD HOSIERY CO., Dept. L, Kenosha,Wis. 
 
 BLACK CAT 
 
 BRAND 
 
 THis is tHe 
 Label