Others are getting their kicks through the increasingly wacky, wigged-out Tokyo getups that look like something imported from Carnaby Street.

Through leaves and trellis-work the sun Left the wine cool within the glass,— They feasting where no sun could pass:

Licking his fingers, Pat buckled on his white helmet and went to work. Wilkinson's relieving elevens were always faunching to go into action anyhow.

The Saturday Evening Post, serializer of six novels by David Graham Phillips, climbed to one million circulation by 1910.