TIIE SUNDAY OREGONIAN, PORTLAND, FEBRUARY 27, 1916. n . : oMiUie cJ3urke!s (ZPhilosophg ofjjife ouunu iriome f 'mf'WA 9 dutroimdmss ff k ii - , ?- j . ) !"irK., , A . 1 . V III VVi'V-VitlJaMfSiSii ' . -.. ' ". ' . 1 . , V S f GRANTED you are an average wom an, with an average -woman's In come, and you suddenly fell heir to an income of 14000 a week. Do you think you would be just about 4000 times happier than you are now? Would you spend a day or two dreaming dreams of foreign travel, luxurious wardrobes, a .garage stocked from limousine to runabout all the while visualizing yourself as the central fig tire and the happiest person in the world, with nothing to do but spend your money and saturate yourself with the joys which money can buy? Well, if you apply a reasonable amount of your own common sense and at the same time give an ear to the words of one who knows what It Is to have $4000 a week to spend, you'll epend no more than a day or two day dreaming. Then you'll pick up your work where you left off and send up prayers of gratitude that you have been bountifully suplied with the greatest health and happiness blessing in the iworld work. "Money has nothing whatever to do 'with happiness," says Miss Blllie Burke, whose services as movie star are rewarded every week with $4000 of peal money. '"Work a definite and fixed occupa tionis the only thing that keeps a woman young, keeps her happy and keeps her beautiful" she continued. Money, with nothing definite to do, is the deadliest disease In the world." Though you and I, beloved reader, might be perfectly willing to become Infected to the extent of a thousand or two now and then, the fact that Miss Billie Burke, who owns a fairyland country home, a town house, and money enough in which and with which to while away day after day if she so chose, finds more joy in work than out of jt well, it behooves us to remain contented with our jobs and to view them In a "bluebird" frame of mind, don't you think? I want to say right here that If the youthfulness of Miss Burke's figure and face indicates the value of keeping occupied, let us pray for more work! For she Is nothing if not youth(ul looking. She says she has "left her teens behind her. But you couldn't prove it by looking at her. "Of course, you don't believe in all work and no play." I protested, the proverbial "all work dullness" being shoulders and that there was Joy In life, after alL" Miss Burke's dressing-room at the studio Impressed me. In other hands, or with one whose work meant less to her than does Miss Burke's, it might have remained an uninteresting speci men of a room in an office building, with its cold background of tan walls and its equally colorless floor cover ing. But the garnishings of gay chintz, as applied by the little movie star, the pillowed chaise longue, the dainty dressing-table accessories, and a huge bowl of soft pink roses transformed the room into enticing arms for a tired little redhead to snuggle into after hours of strenuous work before the camera. Not expensive was this charming ef fect quite the contrary! But O, such a nice, cheery place to run to if you felt the blues were after you! Perhaps this is why Miss Burke looks as if she never had met that unpop ular gentleman, Mr. Blues. But, of course, she has! No one who amounted to anything ever grew up without a visit or two, at least,, from him. But she certainly knows how to hang out the unwelcome sign on him and how to keep him from planting any little lines on her pretty face by surround ing herself with sunshiny, happy colors. Throughout her entire lovely coun try home in Westchester, 30 miles away from the noise and hurry of New York, in which I spent a happy evening with her and her mother and her charming little ward, the thing which made me feel most as if I were on a childhood jaunt through fairyland was the de lightful color scheme. The fairy prin cess, who was my hostess, of course, made more complete the illusion with her own lovely coloring. Up an Ivory tinted winding staircase, carpeted in pearl gray velvet, my host ess led me, on my arrival, to the "room of honor" at the head of the stairs, where she introduced me to her dear mother. Of the devotion between I i J . V .. ... SJft-.r-i. -k il MJV v. rys' f-' 71 1 u - fHa ' mm v.'v JT V . -V- 1 w-f8 ko noticeably absent from her makeup. "Oh, no, indeed!" she replied. "I have y playtime. I hope I shall never get so tangled up with work that I will not have time to play. Otherwise I will not be able to work well.". Then she told me just how she spends her playtime. But of this I shall tell you In a later story. In the meantime I want to tell you of the thing that impressed me more forcibly about Miss Burke than even her glorious sunktssed hair, her exquisite daintiness, her ador able smile, or any other of her charms. And in it there is a beauty philosophy which so many, many women fail to realize. It is the influence of warm, "sun shiny" color, which I shall always as sociate with her. In her studio and in her home there is that tonic-giving, warming, sunshiny color scheme which Tarely fails to reflect its influence gen erously in one who surrounds herself with it. "Dull, ugly colors affect me terribly," Miss Burke said. "I remember a season or two ago on the road I was assigned to an ugly room ip what was supposed to be the best hotel in the town in which I was playing. Never have I seen such ugly, drab paper and fur nishings so consistently depressing. I stood it for a couple of days because no other room was available. When I changed to a cheerier room I felt' as though the great load had rolled off my. mother and daughter It was not my Intention to speak, except to say that It made Miss Blllie Burke a much lovelier little lady, in my eyes, so gen uinely kind and tender was she to her mother. And the mother well, she called my attention to the pictures on the walls of her room. Upon every available inch of space hung a picture of '"Billie," from when she was a very teeny-weeny little "Billie" to her most recent photograph. There must have been 100 of them, at least. "I wouldn't have any but her pictures in my room," the mother said most affectionately. Then, down a long, winding hallway one of those fascinating hallways where all of a sudden you go down a couple of steps and then in another all of a sudden you go up a couple of steps again where the walls were covered with etchings and autographed photographs and water colors, my charming hostess led me to her own private boudoir, off of which opened her bedroom and bathroom. , Two adorable, little, white woolly dogs were carrying on a heated argu ment when we went in. One of them. Ziggy, by name, was being chastised by the French maid for his soiled face and soiled coat. The other one prob ably was acting as Interpreter. They stayed long enough to get a little fur ther chastisement and a couple of gen erous hugs from Miss Burke, and away they ran, presumably to "wash up." The quintescence of daintiness and ravishing color was this boudoir. Again a bowl of lovely roses played a lead ing role in cheering color. It stood upon the baby grand piano, over which was thrown a rug of delicate shades. Of softest peach pink satin were the draperies and the window seat and the pillows banking it. The same tone ot pink, combined with rich creams, was repeated in the Oriental rugs; and again this color appeared in the little French sewing basket and tete cover ings and in the dress of the statuesque Mme. Pompadour, whose duty ' it was to hide the telephone under her ample skirts. In the fireplace of Ivory wood, a fire burned brightly, and on the mantel over it were two exquisitely wrought gold leaf bric-a-brac and a clock. Across the room was a high, triple mirrored dressing table, with soft pink curtained glass doors, and a writing desk of the same ivory tinted wood, above which a long" quill pen rose brilliantly. A fireside chair, cov ered in daintiest chintz, and reproduc tions of favorite art pictures completed this exquisitely lovely room. In the bedroom just off the same peach satin was again repeated in the large bay window, and in the half can opied bed draperies, and in the lining for the gorgeous lace bedspread, and behind the glass doors of the clothes cabinet, which ran the full length of the room and; which was ' surmounted by a mantel covered with photos of in teresting celebrities. "It would be rather hard," I thought to myself, "to open your eyes on such a pretty scene- and not begin the day right" The bathroom, too, with which one does not generally associate possibili ties of dainty color schemes, was a revelation, with its shower bath cur tained. In the peach pink satin;, its bath rugs of the same exquisite shade, towels to match, and a row of 'glass bottles containing every manner ot toilet requisite, upon which were stamped floral designs in pink. Her own big library was just a door away from her boudoir. Down a couple of steps you went to reach it a softly lighted reading lamp on a huge table, a couple of large reading chairs by its side and in front of a fine old fireplace, the walls lined with books and inter esting pictures all about an Ideal place for you and the book you love to be found. Downstairs, through the spacious hall, as you first come in, you catch a glimpse of the great, big homey living room to the left and the wonderfully appointed dining-room at the end. In both these rooms logs crackled mer rily in their great, big, beautiful fire places. A great pillow-laden, cushion-seated davenport was drawn up in front of the fire in the living-room. Instead of being covered with the usual heavy, dark valour or tapestry here, again, was the philosophy of cheerful color carried out in the imported cretonne covering used in the 'davenport and pil lows a black background printed in cerise figures of variable size. The window curtains were of the same ma terial, and throughout the long room. In the center left of which stood a grand piano covered with a brilliant Oriental rug, there was repeated here and there this most effective color trimming. The large Oriental rug on the floor was toned to a tremendously harmonious warmth of color. The big sun parlor, which ran parallel to this long living-room, was done in wicker and gay chintz, with "comfy" rockers and loungTng chairs and swing seats and Indian rugs and artistic little tables. , I wish I could have seen it in the daytime, with the sun pouring in upon it all. Would I be happy In it? Why. you'd just have to be in spite of your self. There would be no use tryni to harbor ill-feelings of any kin Any where in this lovely, lovely h-me of Miss Burke's, Tfea ushine of it all would put the taboo on them instantly, of sunshine. She doesn't theorize about Miss Burke certainly knows the value it, however. She practices It. and her KAISER'S GRANDSON IS STURDY YOUNGSTER 8 f-H &Ztf ' ! IT - ' f e ' PRINCE ALEXANDER FERDINAND, SON OK PRINCE Al'Gl ST A II. HAM OF GERMANY, AND HIS MOTHER. ALEXANDER FERDINAND, the son known to the outside world, was born of' Princess of Victoria and Prince in 1013, and he is one of the healthiest August William, the Kaiser's and rugged royal babies in Germany, fourth son. although he comes of Since his father has gone to the front kinsly blood, is as sturdy and as alto- Alexander's training has been put al gether likeable a youngster as ever most wholly into the hands of the romped in a playroom or nursery, ac- fond mother, who was. prior to her cording to visitors who have recently marriage in 1908. the Princess Victoria been admitted to the royal household, of Scnleswls-Uolstein. a cousin ot hur Prince Alexander Ferdinand, as he is husband. happy blue eyes and the merry littl upturned corners of her mouth b testimony to the fiirt. Wliy Not? ' Centry. It Is awkwnrd to be csufiht on Fifth-avenue bus with only a B-cent piece and a $10 bill, for neither is ac ceptable ammunition for the shiny little gun the conductor points at you. The other day the writer found himself in this predicament and was politely told he would have to get off, and It was not the man in front, but the young woman on the seat behind him who came to his rescue. Tlease let me." she snld cheerfully. "It's a nuisance havinir to get off!" And the writer found hlmnelf accept ing the altl in the same spirit he would have met it coming from a man. To have insisted on means of repaying It. or to have been over-cf fulve. would have spoiled what was a novel and rather refreshing Incident. It was only when the brisk young flKure in a tailor-made suit allKhted a few blocks farther on that he glanced over the bus to look gratefully and admiringly after her. He rather hoped she was for woman suffrage, becaune somehow in her carriage and her pleasantly Im personal manner she seemed to typify the cause's best Intentions. And the only concession ho made to sex was when he raised his hat. The Furnnce Klre. f Boston Daily Globe. Consider the furnace lire. Its season ... h.irun and continues, barring ml- untll some time next oiirinn. i, sulks, catches cola, goes on i. v.. without notice and is ad dicted' to moat of the vices to whlca flesh is heir. It demands almost as much attention as a smull child and Is far less grate ful. It becomes tne ruination of many a good smoking Jacket and many mora poor tempers. It cases more persist ently than a German offensive on the western front, with an effect only little less deadly. In patriotic verses and tho like cltl sens, all and sundry, are exhorted to perish, if need be. for their altars and their fires, or their hearths. What Is ex actly meant is that citizens should be willing to perish for their furnace tires. Could anyone imaisine anklng us to perish for anything more unworthy ot a blow? More likely we perish by our furnace fires. And perhaps find it a happy release from the scrtdou ot Uncling them. hap. smokes. sprees.