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AN you remember the days when you draped a lace curtain over your little curly head and tried to look like a bride? Or the time you put on your mother's hat and earrings and tried to decide whether or not you were as lovely as the calendar lady who smiled at you from the wall? If you do, you will agree with me, I am sure, that the desire to be "as pretty as the princess in the fairy tale" is born in the heart of every girl child,

Certain it is that those busy people who like to "estimate" things declare that women spend in America alone about fifty million dollars a year on beauty aids. The beauty parlor is the one place that no number of financial panics and no amount of changing fashions can put out of business. Women insist upon being beautiful, and if Nature fails them they try to cultivate beauty.

A clever woman Mr. Castle and I know has summed up the evils of a woman's life in the declaration that, "One gray hair is a tragedy,