iimi n ,,ii.i 4jjifstsW!BiSMft -fjasssnAmmsiO:' Mlj 1jd. " 'Hi :XJJiJSiB!MS&StXSBBaStKSsjmM swgMggggMatBMBijswBaMMMBBMMyEfflBHE Ku oo THE PITTSBTIRQ- DISPATCH, SUNDAY, APRIL 20, 1890. I ft- h w I -- If W ' it om&mrGM IN DEBT TO NATUEE. BSff SSSWai&ftK COLONIAL COURTING. Ut S( K. ". -rt -1 .J"t - " - -- - Jir1 growth of rheumatics. The women must 9 1 I f e y r-y ." T I T fl A - 5gjflr::TJVl l"we hundred-dollar gowns to sing or read D I rVl Vv 7 f ;2i5!i!Q'is The Tired Body Can Not Borrow -,n a?d a Eetei p'aee to entertain visitors, How the Swain of Te Olden Times I l 0. A x-vVQT fk . . .,. .. whether they have comfort or not. .. ,, . . . , iA f A4(0 )JVr"VVlN WAVmJBI f UJ Without Paying Back Ten-Fold. MUST yBjLYE X0VRiamifa F00Di Won the Maid He Loved. b tt' ii i -v ii i s i i x 1 1 r ir 'j j in u-u i i -z r r P I &ftjM UwPrcfli P fT"S SKOif UXt jA LESSON IN LOUISA ALCOTT'S LIFE. t . pW F' Wfu- tVP r-Vv()Slfe) Many Women Made Miserable by Far- f? ;k ' tSS3s2X iriilrsr'3'' V I rprV vMft-Vf!(yc::: vZJ nace Air Drawn From Cellars. m R f liM ;Qg Mtf 1 1 mfTrU , good food akd clothes and baths y mask immmiil 1 1 Wf 1 1, W fKoggsafl t wfiyi mm 1 I JB ''HW'" WEEDS FOE THE WIDOWS. Kerrr Wns 6nch n Vnrictr oC-Snltablo nnd Elegant Slalerlnl Offered lo Mourners Blee Philosophises Upon the Webs of Custom nnd the Fabrics of Fashion. IWBITTE FOE THE DISPATCH. : HE newest effects in mourning. "The very latest mourning." "English mournine." "French mourning," ore some of the adver tisements one notices where whole webs of woe are to be bought with a price. It would not be much of a sur prise at any time now if some one merchant, a trifle more enter prising than the rest, were to hoist a card anouncing "The lat est agoing iu mourn ing, or, stunning effects for widows." Offensive, is it not, when one thinks about it. The trouble is we don't think. "We are living sacrifices to the Moloch of custom slaves, notwithstanding our boasted liberty of thought and action. Though at heart we may rebel against wearing our grief npon our sleeve, we have not the courage of our conviction and cannot brook being dubbed eccentric or wanting in proper respect for the dear departed; so we bow or neck to the black yoke and believe ourselves firm in the determination to forego the theater, the races, the harmless flirtation and all things elae not consistent with our attire. SOME 'WHO DON IT JfATUBALLT. Others there are whose hearts are so crushed under the pressure of a great sorrow that they fail to notice that the sun still cmiles, the birds go on with their operetta and passers by laugh, regardless ot crape on the door; or if these things be noticed it is only in wonderment for we are very sure we can never smile, sing or laugh again. Black is in harmony with our feelings and we don it with satisfaction, but learn later that our grief, like Bob Acres courage, "comes and goes," wisely ordained so by that One The Fashionable Widow. who, knowing us better than we know our selves, admonished us to "mourn in secret." If we but obey this admonition we can wear black lor the dead or colors for the quick, at will, and consistently, and be less a travesty upon grief than we often are under the cus tom of wearing mourning in public. Still another reason for adopting black is the popular fallacy that it is a becoming hue to all. There never was a greater mistake. One wise u oman defines the age-limits be tween which a woman may wear black with salety, to be under 25 and overJ0. We know that black enhances the beauty ot a fair skin and emphasize the charms of a well-rounded figure, but it mercilessly calls attention to augularities of the form and be trays the existence of every wrinkle and its shadow. Therefore, my dear, young widow, you must not wear crowsfeet with your stylish black or you will be less interesting than you think you are. THE FASHIOXS IN GKIEF. But stop! I have been asked by esteemed friends, but friends who insist upon buying their woe at the end of a yardstick, to "write up" the latest lashions in their line of apparel, and I must tighten the Etay chainB of my opposition, or I shall succeed only in writing them "down." While standing at a counter that was weighted with choice and novel black goods, examining with interest if not with admiration, a lady was heard to remark that she had been in mourning continuously for 18 years, and bad never been shown such a variety of equally elegant fabrics any one season; nor did she remember a time when there was so much latitude given lor decorating. It does seem to me the de signers have amply provided and that they must have sweated their brains to lend a little novelty to an other wise monotonous garb and succeeded in their efforts. For evidence see the new suit ings or dull effects in robes which certainly make up a new feature in mourning wear. The border designs are mostly in stripes a shade more lustrous than the dead black of the ground; just enough to bring them slightly, not prominently, in relief. The absence of all vandyked designs is noted with relief for surely there have been enough pointed effects displayed mpon women's costumes from bonnet to boot to impale all humanity. THE OLD BELIABLES. Among the more elegant black goods, new and old, we find the ever popular Car melite veiling, clairette cloth, silk warped tamise, silk warped challies and the old re liable silk warped cashmere. Also, a new line of camel's hair grenadine, plain and T mm MmmFVSk III with crape striped borders; silk grenadine, almost lusterless; canton crepe, crepon, .,.. a ,.v,;no crinkled like real ciape; silk and wool annures and the standard henriettas. . For warmer weather we have a beautiful line of lusterless India and surah silks, and for vet lighter wear the usual supply of ba tistes, jaconets and organdies as fine as if woven upon the spider's loom. In the makeup of these materials the pre vailing fashions in colored robes is to be ob served, barring trimming the skirl with bugles, passementeries or like decorations which is not admissible for first mourning. Put all the monev you can afford in your mourning, if you will wear it, for it is para doxically true the dearest is the cheapest. Have the material rich, but the makeup plain if you would be above criticism. AN ACCOBDION EFFECT. The latest wrinkle in skirts is akin to the accordion method of appropriating count less yards o-.material, the difference being in the manned of disposing of the wrinkle. In the accordion the pleats stand out stiffly. In the Parisian they lie flat and adapt them selves more obligingly to bands. Trimmings may be indulged in more lavishly upon the waist than lor some sea son's past. Dull jet is in great favor. The prevailing styles in tinsel galoons and col ored passementeries aud cut jet have been copied in the dull jet, and come in sets designedly shaped for the places they are to occupy. Even the romantic Spanish jacket fronts are reproduced in this jet. Orna ments and trimmings in dull silk passemen teries and in crape passementeries are among this season's novelties. The surplice and other buckles come in crocheted covers of dull silk, or covered with crepe de chine and in dull jet An attempt is being made to revive the English fashion of crape bands and pamls , for dress skirts: and the ugly wiry crape veil which defies the most artistic touches ol the draper, knows no boundary limits and makes a woman hideous and unearthly enough to frighten an engine off its track. IfOT SIAKIN G ANT HEADWAY. It is pleasurable to notice that this fashion is making no headway, but that the clinging, silky nun's veiling everywhere and upon all occasions prevails. This veil is laid in plain folds across the front of a flat bonnet, and falls in rich, soft drapery almost to skirt hem it worn with visiting or church costume but considerably shorter if for traveling. Crepe folds for dress trimming is elegant for elderly ladies who wish to draw the line between their apparel and that of younger members in a bereaved family. If the intention of mourning in costume were to turn the thoughts from loss to attire, then crepe it should be, for it is a constant source ot anxiety from the time donned un til doffed. Bain, sunshine, dust and wind, are alike ruinous. However, the ex travagance or worriment of crepe will not be a matter for consideration when the autocrat of fashion decrees crape; for we are in the net of custom, and we can't mourn our dead in the same black this year we did last. The fashion in grief has changed or the emblem of it. Ridiculous? Yes I think bo. "We are familiar with the fable of the lion who got caught in a net; how he gnashed at it with his powerful paws, made the forest ring with his roars, but with no effect; the net still enveloped him, until a humble little field mouse attracted by his cries nibbled a mesh in the net and he was free and let us hope, grateful. It will take many mice to destroy the strong net of mourning customs, but let us keep nibbling. ONE OF THE 'WBAF3. Something out of the usual order of wraps for mourning is described as trimmed in os trich plumes, the material of heavy armure silk; the edges finished with fringes of the plumes, and jet beading above the leathers. This wrap was for one Duchess d'Osta.'so I suppose it will be considered a safe model. For these between-season days, the plain jacket, with the stylish high shoulders, is a wrap above reproach. A little later and the pretty Alberta fichue, cape-shaped in back and with long taba liers front, will be worn. These, knotted carelessly on the bust or at waist line, ac cording to the proportion of wearer, will be an elegant acquisition to a toilet. Parasols to be carried with full mourning are iu plain lusterless surah, shirred with cords and knife-pleated frill in lieu fit fringe or lace, and groi grain ribbon braided in basket-weave with ribbon loops finishing the edge, and dainty Maries with covers of pean de soie or point d'esprit. Black and white conceits in plaids, in stripes or with borders, white on black or vice versa, are exhibited for second mourn ing, hut will not be confined to that wear exclusively. Black and white is a charm ing and safe combination, since less trying than all black. However, this was not the reason Mrs. Jones gave for appearing, a few days after having buried her husband, in an attractive costume of black and white. Jones was her second husband andhe be lieved in the eternal fitness of things. DESIGNS FOB SECOND MOUENING. All the new designs appearing upon colored robes are reproduced for second mourning in black and gray, white and gray and black and white. India silks and challies have white figures in black and black or gray spaced far apart The same styles come in chambrays and other wash goods that are found in woolen suitings. In handkerchiefs for mourning the most approved has a broad band in black, set in back of the rather wide hem thongh the most expensive have embroidered borders or corners. Narrow stitching prevails on gloves, undressed kid and silk being alike fashionable. Now, notwithstanding my prejudice I have told you of the newest aud most ele gant in mourning effects, but I may not have done it iu a right or pleasing manner. However, it is not all important whether I am quiteright or absolutely wrong so long as my opinion is honest. Any sort of an honest opinion should help toward a proper judgment If I could be always right and pleasing J would not be writing up black robes for you, but white ones for the angels. Meg. 0TE DEE MOTHER'S COFFIN. Touching Circumstance Altcndlnc the liar rlnco or a St. Louis I.ady. Mrs. Charles Moors died last Monday at 4159 Lucky street, St Louis, says the Globe Democrat. On Thursday her daughter, Miss Clarissa A. Moore, was married to Mr. John Fenton, and the bridal party attended the fnneral. Mother and daughter had been inseparable companions, more like two sisters. Seven months ago they met Mr. Fenton, and both liked him. Soon the daughter was engaged to him. Then the mother fell ill. The invalid, feeling that she would never recover, insisted upon the marriage of her daughter 'taking place before her death, which she felt would soon occur. The daughter endeavored to comfort the sufferer with the hope that she would soon gw strong, and then she. promised her the mar riage would take place. The invalid rapidly grew weaker, and it was not long before the truth was forced upon the daughter and she realized that bitter grief was in store for her. While life was ebbing away Clarissa held one of the wasted hands in hers, and just before she died the invalid turned her eyes slowly and lovingly to her daughter and whispered almost inaudibly "Church, at the same time pointing toward the church where it was originally intended that the marriage ceremony should take place. "Mother, is it your wish that I should be married at once?" The mother replied, in a whisper. Yes. "This was the last word that mother ut tered," said Mrs. Fenton to a reporter after ward. "She sank back on her pillow, and, with an expression of sweet resignation upon her face, she drew her last breath. I in formed Mr. Fenton. We were married in our parlor, and joined hands over mother's coffin. I placed my bridal wreath of lilies of the vallev upon the brow of my mother in the presence of about 50 dear relatives and friends. In about three hours after our marriage was solemnized we attended the funeral of my dear, dear mother, and ac companied the remains to their final resting place." The bride is an exceptionally handsome young lady of 19. The groom is said to be the son of very wealthy English parents. CAMPIXG OUT IN THE PAELOE. A NoTeliySeeklnff Bello tins Erected a Tent In a Corner of Her Home. A New York belle has a tent in one cor ner of her parlor, according to the Herald. Several big packing boxes were placed on the floor, as shown in the sketch, their width from the wall being 3J4 feet and theirheight from the ground at the most 1 foot. On these were placed two small mattresses such as you can purchase for single beds at any large furnishing , store for 2 or $3. This made a delightfully wide and low divan all around the corner, which seemed to invite a siesta at once. Bagdad rugs, double-faced cotton plush or any heavy draping material may be used as coverings. The wall behind can be draped with similar material, and pictures, a mirror, brackets, busts or statu ettes can be placed over the divan, with its many big, soft pillows, which are piled in artistic contusion. The effect of a tent is given by draping with silk or some soft material over the lounge, as shown in the illustration. A cur tain pole is fastened to the floor a little to one end of the lounge, and another pole ex tends from this to the corner of the wall, where it is fastened. A rope is stretched from the angle made by the meeting of the poles to the wall on either side. A laree hook is then placed in the wall higher up than the top of the rope, and the whole width of the silk or whatever it is draped with even cheese cloth of a pretty dull shade will do is taken np there in a bunch 'and simply let down over the rope, and looped and draped as eliectively as possiDie. .a. rug laid at the foot of the lounge and a small, 5 o'clock tea table give the character of a small room by itself. TASCOTT'S SECOND VICTIM. A Gentle Sweetheart of His Schoolboy Dnrs Died of Grief nnd Shnme. Ten years ago Willie Tascott, the young man wanted for the murder of Millionaire Snell, of Chicago, was a pupil at the Skin ner School, of that city, says the New York World. Across the aisle in the chair oppo site sat a sweet girl, with soft brown eyes and hair, pretty teeth and the rosiest lips and cheeks in the room. When she was called on by the teacher to recite she used to stand in the aisle nearest Willie Tascott and rest her dainty fingers on his desk. The boy silently loved the gentle creature and showed his demotion by the nice points he put on her drawing pencils and the care he took to keep her ink well filled and her sponge wet In her quiet, lovable way the brown-eyed classmate watched her neiglibor,smiIed when he had a good lesson or received a high mark, frowned at his waywardness and was sad and troubled when he disgraced himself. When Willie Tascott's foster-brother mar ried the little girl's sister the bond between them strengthened, and the impulsive boy was restrained and curbed and anchored by the sweet influence of Mrs. Tascott's little sister. In the shelter of her mother's house itwas not strange that she should be ignorant of the boy's associations, but in spite of rumor she believed that the good predomi nated and that Willie Tascott would be a man in time. Then came the awful tragedy in the Snell mansion and the suspicion that pointed to him as the murderer and thief. No trace of him was ever found by either of the three families, and if the little schoolmate re ceived any message she guarded it as sacred. She was taken trom school at the advice of her teacher, and the doctor who went to see her pronounced her case harmless, prescrib ing rest and out-door exercise. The roses in her checks changed to lilies, the brilliancy left her eyes, her spirits drooped and before the beauty of girlhood had ripened into per fect womanhood she faded and pined away. She dreaded to open a newspaper, every paragraph being a stab at her breaking heart After suspense came the belief in her mind that her schoolfellow was dead, but time brought neither comfort nor for getfulness, and four months ago gentle, lov ing, beautiful Mary Lamport died of a broken heart, the only creature in all the world who really cared for the hapless boy, and who tried so hard and so earnestly to make a nan of him. JlS rWBlTTEU POU tU DISPATCH, "l Was there ever a took like the "Life of Louisa Alcott," told in her letters and jour nals this ye.r? Many will read the record of family attachment, struggle and self-devotion fascinated by its piquant spirit, and coveting a like success. Many will long for the $S,000 in six months paid for her literary work, but few will read the unwritten lesson which runs in largest print, inter lining the story, a lesson repeated with nearly every ambitious woman of the centnry. Let us see if any will catch the significance of these extracts. Miss Alcott writes, January, 1874: "When I had the youth I had no money; now I have the money I have no time; and when I get the time, if lever do, I shall have no health to enjoy life. I suppose it's the dis cipline I need; but it's rather hard to love the things I do, and see them go by because duty chains me to my galley." Going back of this we read of her writing 14 hours a day, "so full of my work I can't stop to eat or sleep or for anything but a daily run. Paid up all the debts thank the Lord and now I feel as if I could die in peace." April "Very poorly. Feel quite used up. Don't care much for myself, as rest is heavenly even without pain. But the family seem bo helpless and panic stricken when I break down that I try to keep the mill going." HAEDSHIP ALWAYS. Still turning the leaves backward we read: "Home to shut up the house, as father goes West. A cold, hard, dirty time; but was so glad to be out of Concord that I worked like a beaver and turned the key with joy. May and I went to the new hotel on Beacon street, and had a queer time eat ing in a marble cafe, and sleeping on a sofa bed that we might be genteel. It did not Buit me at all. A great gale nearly blew the roof off. Steam pipes exploded, and we were hungry. I was very tired with my hard snmmr, with no rest for the brains that earn the money." March "Cold and dull. Not able to write." June, 1871 " 'Little Men' was ont the day I arrived from Europe. Fifty thousand sold before it was out." August "Sick. Holiday soon over. Too much company and care and change of climate upset the nerves again." October "Decided to go to Boston. Con cord is so hard for me with its dampness and worry. Go to Beacon street to rest and try to get well, that I may work. Bones ache less, and I gave up morphine, as sun shine and air and quiet made sleep possible without it" If Louisa Alcott made her $200,000 by her pen, she earned it. and she wore a martyr's crown to get it, too. Plenty of women have neuralgia and premature old age without the money to soften suffering; and they, too, write as she did that life is a mystery. There is no mystery about it The lesson of all this suffering begins to dawn upon the race, that by no other disci pline, no less penalty, will obstinate, obtuse human nature ever learn lo obey the laws of its own well being. One would think that three days acute neuralgia would teach any mortal the advantage of taking care of one's self. A HAED LESSON TO LEABN. But ten, twenty years seems none too much to teach this simple lesson, bright as sunshine in the universe, the secret of all loss and decay, that God's will is that we should take care of ourselves and our health first of all. We prcsame to neglect this first obvious duty, and soon there is no grace nor nsefulness left in us. Let no one presume to censure the Alcotts for improvidence or failure more than others, for nine-tenths of the human family squander their lives and all that is best in them the same way. The trouble be gan in Louisa Alcott's childhood, when "the children wearied of their extremely simple diet of plain boiled rice without sugar and graham meal without butter or molasses." Mr. Alcott was a visionary and vegetarian of the strictest sort. One would think that his family need not have run deeply into debt on such fare; but somehow, good food always pays itself back in keener foresight and lorce. Carlyle ruined his health for life by living on oatmeal at college, and many mothers bringing up their children on stinted, overplain fare, are fitting them for breakdown just when they want their strength. Tea-and-toast invalids and women turned 40 who need little food, and fancy no one else needs more than themselves; who insist on hearty younger people cutting off suppers and doing without sugar or iresh meat or deserts, all play the same foolish part, and the whole family usually has to pay for it. TJNFOBTUNATE MABBIAGES. Marriages without provision of either money or practical sense are the first step which I shall not hesitate to call demoralizing, they entail such loads of care and suffering on the innocent for genera tions. Ill-feeding follows overwork on the part of the vigorous elder child or two, the rest being sickly or having a happy knack of shifting burdens to more willing shoul ders. This can hardly be helped by the child who, like Louisa Alcott, resolves "to pay all the family debts, fix the house, send sister to Italy and keep the old folks cozy." Brave heart! But the time comes when we have t our lives in our own hands to guide, and it belongs to no one's duty to work as Miss Alcott worked at cold, weary house cleanings and closings because others would not da their duty .about such matters. In the first place, nobody is compelled to live in unhealthy conditions. Concord.with its dampness, did for this gifted woman what Scotch mists and London fogs did tor Jane Carlyle, sowed the rack in every nerve and turned life into horror for years. Thousands of women suffer from the same cause, lose bloom and beauty and all that makes life worth living, and go on suffering, when a change of climate, perhaps to the other side of the town or county, would set all right. I have known the opening of a window in a cellar and a wide casement above to turn a most unhealthy house into a safe, delightful one. But the bane of woman's health and looks in Northern towns is the wretched practice of living all winter in houses where all the air for the furnaces or heaters is drawn FKOM CLOSE CELLARS, being the air that has filtered through soil reeking with the refuse of sewers and 6onr with standing moisture, a double distillate of putrescence and disease. During the last winter nowhere have the cases of epidemic been so disastrous as in close houses with out fireplaces, where all the cellar air was drawn into each room from the heater, in stead of through an air shaft opening out of doors. The next worse conditions are those of tightly calked country rooms heated by common stoves or fireplaces, draughty and uncertain as those in the Concord house, where Louisa Alcott took the neuralgia which ruined her life. Equal in discomfort is the life many am bitious women feel compelled to lead, of which the Beacon Street Hotel is a type. Haven't I been through it, with struggling artists and readers and writers iu houses which presented a fine appearance, "eating in a marble cafe and sleeping on sofa beds that we might be genteel;" where the fittings are so poorly put in as to work continual uneasiness, where steam will not beat when needed nor furnaces behave, and a gale chills the genteel rooms worse than the ten ement house, where, thank heaven, families keep snug by their cookstoves? The mar ble cafe lends delicate women away always MUST HAVE NOURISHING FOOD, Or they live in sky-parlors, where tbey sew, write stories at $5 and $10, act a little, or nurse a little, and teach a little like Miss Alcott, and treat their internal economy as she did, planning a story while shb ate a squashpie from the bakery and falling to write it as soon as she had finished. The wonder is ber nerves held out as long as they did, and that so few people generally die of neuralgia and meningitis when they lay themselves out to invite these dispensations. Women abuse themselves and their own families frightfully and do not know it Then they wonder as Louisa did at Fanny Kemble, how a creature can preserve spirit and attraction when she is over 40. Fanny Kemble had worked and suffered, but she had known how to care for herself, through it all. If Miss Alcott had laid down the law for herself, that as an imperative neces sity she must have nonrishing food when working hard, good brown beefsteak and the best of hot coffee and graham rolls, not cold, solitary sqnash pie that she must throw down her work and rest in a warm, fresh room when weary tbougn creation went to rack or threatened it meanwhile, she might have been living now, to delight the world. One must stand the reproach of being fussy and hard to suit, bearing it for con science' sake, and making it up to society in kindness and sweetness when the martyr spirits are waspish with indigestion. Noth ing is more beneficial to the world than en lightened selfishness. How do you expect to keep your good looks and be a pleasure to friends by neglect and overdoing? "WHAT WOBET TVILL DO. A fit of strong mental worry when the blood is out of order will throw its irritation to the surface in an eczema which may take years to cure. The rheumatic state from living in a chill, damp house will rob your movements of grace, your eyes of light and give you the complexion of a boiled corpse a vigorous comparisonfnot my own, but heard from a keen-eyed gentleman this evening. If you are chilly these changeful spring days, put on a silk undcrvest and chemise of white India silk with silk knick erbockers and stockings. Thus cased you are proof against sudden chills. If your circulation is poor, make your sleeves come over the wrist, as fashion fortunately allows, with trimming of fur, swansdown or feathers. Englishwomen are sensible. They keep fur jackets out to wear the middle of June when a sea turn comes, furs never feeling so good as then, when fires are out. Do not be above carrying one of the little Japanese handwarmers, its lighted carbon smoulder ing in a tin case with cloth covering. The whole thing with fuel ouly costs 25 cents, and can be carried in the pocket like a porte monnaie. It is an advantage to persons with weak chests to carry the case in the bosom, raw days. The warmth is so mild and constant that it keeps the clothing dry from perspiration -without overheating. The difference in color this invention makes with come cadaverous women is remarkable, and it has beneficial effect in case of heart dis ease, which is greatly aggravated by cold air, food or drinks. THE CHILLY SENSATION. Delicate women, writers and sedentary persons who feel chilly even in summer should never sit without loot warmers or fur-Iiped slippers, if at all chilly. Mental exercise exnausis me ooaiiy neat, xoa re member how George Eliot always was chilly when writing, and many i professional worker recognizes the familiar feeling. Hot baths with plenty ot friction afterward, get up a healthy action of the skin, which leaves the fair face and opal tinted houri afterward. One of the most beautiful com plexions I know is kept by this practice, joined to care in eating. A compound of borax and vegetable oil, with a little bleach ing agent, has the effect ot eating off the outer coating of the skin, while an alkali with it stimulates the capillaries by Its irri tation. The eyes will be dark and bright after such a bath, but if you want to insure their brilliancy, a pharmacist who studies these things says one must eat freely of tomatoes for the sake of the atropbine or its kindred quality tbey contain. Certainly wholesome tomatoes keep skin and eyes in good condition as far as food can do it. Women nped food very full of nourish ment which will be the least tax on the digestion, and this is found in the new pro cess bread or rather cakes, baked by steam without yeast or baking powder. It is very odd to miss the discomfort after meals when taking this bread; one feels so satisfied and yet as if one had eaten almost nothing, while the craving which follows unsuitable food no longer afflicts. A well-to-do woman might attempt a far worse charity than to send a supply of such strengthening food to worn out sewing girls and school teachers. If anything lighter is wanted, it is found in the stale muffins baked crisp in the oven and pounded to coarse powder, a very satis fying and delicate thing, of which three or four spoonfuls answer for bread at a meal. Shirley Dabe. WHAT A WOMAN CAN DO. Itlri. Dow Is a Good Cook, Editor nnd Bntl road Uanager Besides Other Tblnsji. The Illustrated American. Mrs. Mary Edna Hill Gray Dow, of Dover, N. H., is the first woman to be elected President of a street car company. She comes of Puritan stock, was graduated Tith honors at the Boston High School, taught at St. Louis and took part in ama teur theatricals with Nellie Grant with great success. She married George Gray, an editor of Dover, wrote editorials, made advertising contracts and managed a job office. She took first premium twice at the New Hampshire State Pair for best jellies and canned fruits, for best brown and white bread, and butter, for imported French Houdan and buff Cochin fowls, for best darning, for the greatest number of patterns of tatting, crochet edging and knit lace and for the best varieties of cakes and frostings. She has always been a very skillful cook and has given lectures on cooking. Mr. Gray died, and after five years his widow married Dr. Dow, one of the leading physicians of Dover. They lived abroad several years. On their return Mrs. Dow took the management of herhusbaud'sprop- erty as well as her own. Among other securities she owned some shares in the Dover City Street Railroad. The accom modations of the railroad and the dividends were meager, while the expenses and the fares were high. The stockholders were dissatisfied, and in the summer of 1838 a Boston syndicate started in to buy up the road. They offered Mrs. Dow a third of what she had paid for her shares, and this set her thinking. The result of her meditations was that at the annual meeting of stockholders Mrs. Dow surprised everybody by showing that she had acquired control of a majority of the shares, and elected herself President of the company. Then she began to introduce re forms, raising the pay ot employes, reduc ing fares, and buying new rolling stock for cash, and at the end of the first year she an nounced a dividend of 11 per cent, some thing unparalleled in the history ot the road. Since then the company has been moving along on a high wave of prosperity. Mrs. Dow has resigned the Presidency; but her success was so great that efforts are making now to induce her to take charge of a horse railroad in the "West, one in the South, and a thirdjin New Hampshire. She is seriously thinking of assuming control of one of them. Mrs. Dow is also a good shot with a rifle; is skillful at fly fishing, is a good judge of horseflesh, and has taken a prize in an amateur swimming contest among ladies. At the same time, she is a charming wife, mother, and mistress of the home, and, withal, she is fair, fat and forty. A Wonderfnl T.lterarr Genius. Fuek.t It is estimated that 75 different Stanley books will soon be on the American market Stanley could hardly beat this if he were dead and up to his elbows in the work of producing postuumoni books. Customs and Laws That Made the Lover's Lot an Unhappy One. DETAILS OF A HAEEIAGE CEEEM0XI WBITTICH TOB TBI DISPJITCn.l OW did they use to court in old days, in the times of the Puritans?" said a Boston maiden to an an tiquarian. The classic fossil made reply to the effect that the social laws of the Colo nists were some what stringent, that love made itself manifest then as now, but the difference between the methods of 1660 and 1890 was great He said: "I think the maids and youths were more innocent then than they are now, more bashful, and the poor enamored youth was obliged to face not only his lady love, but was forever under the eye of the father and mother." The antique gentleman stopped a moment in hopes that his reply would be satisfying, but his gallantry and love for the ladies forced him to go on at the demand of the curious maiden. "Well," said he, "I'll tell you what I have read, and I dare say yon will enjoy it. They made laws for everything in those days and courting was one of the important phases in the life of every vital and healthy person. No persons, says Bacvard, under the covert of Barents, were allowed to marry without their parents' consent. If this could not be obtained they were then to get permission of the Governor or some of the assistants. After this they were to be published in church, or their names posted on trees. If any man offered proposals of marriage to any young lady without first obtaining the consent of her parents or master, he was obliged to pay a fine or suffer corporal punishment. "To be exact let me give you an instance. Mr. A. H., for making proposals of mar riage to a young lady, Miss E. P., and pros- ecuting the same contrary to the parents' wishes, and without their consent and strictly contrary to their mind and will, was sentenced to a fine of 5 and to be put under bonds for good behavior and desist from the use of any means to obtain or retain her affections. Poor chap, lovesick, no doubt, he must have suffered no end of humiliation, it being known by everybody that he was spnrned by the cold and unreciprocating maiden. "Supposohe had won the affections of the girl and they had, under the forest trees or in the great pantry, talked over the matter of asking the folks about getting married, can't you imagine the young dreamer loaf ing around the vicinity of the girl's house till it became dark, and' then, with shaking limbs and beating heart, knocking at the door? His summons brings tba sturdy and matter-of-fact father to the door, who, seeing the youth standing there all trembling, smiles inwardly and then, desiring to help the chap along a little, speaks up kindly and says, 'William, come in.' Willie obeys, and with hat in band he enters the hall and then the great sitting room, where, to make him more -uncomfortable than ever, he finds his Bebekah, ber mother and two brothers. Here he li obliged to sit and suffer and bot tle np his prayer for two or three hours. By 9 o'clock all leave the room but the father and mother, and Bill. After a silence of a half hour, Bill plucks up courage and says in a stammering and shaky voice, 'Er, Mr. Brandish, I have a cold; is not the cold, cold?' Senior Brandish smiles and allows that 'the cold Is cold.' "Then Bill blurts right out and says, 'Can't I marry Bebekah?' The old lady 1) jf-Kjl I drops her stocking which she is knitting' looks up at Willie, who bows his head and wishes he was as near being consumed as the dull black log on the open hearth. 'You marry Bebekah?' says Madame Brand ish, and the surveys poor Bill's turned-in toes, his shapely leg, his doublet and the top of his head, 'what for?' Bill is lost, he stutters, mnmbles something about 'She likes me. I like her,' and, feeling himself about as small as a button, he crosses his legs and subsides. At this instant a sup pressed snicker reaches his ears, coming from the rafters overhead. Old Brandish comes to the rescue and stands bolt-upright, the action causes Bill to make a movement in doing which his bat falls, and in the at tempt to uncross his legs and reach for the hat he upsets the chair and for a moment the whole house is. in a roar. Brandish, much amused, exclaims; 'All right, Will iam, yon ate a good fellow and know how to work and when you show us 40 Becky's yours.' Bill turns as red as a steak, says, 'Yes, sir; thank you, sir; guess I'll go,' and accompanied by the pa and ma hastily beats a retreat to the glorious welcome air with a heart as light as the moonbeams which il luminate his joyish path over the hills to his home. "That is one instance." says the antiqua rian, "and though it may be an extreme type, the rest of them were not far from being similar! After the 'ice is broken' the lucky beau, early and olten, helps to wind the varn. turn the wheel, draw water, does all sorts of errands for the folks, makes him self quite useful, and saves his shillings. Huskings used to be the great opportunity for developing love events, and, in a more somber way, 'lecture night' gave the love sick swain a chance to pour out nis aevotion to his 'dearest maid.' There were no theaters, concerts or festivals, no events which could bring the enamoured youths into one another's company; doubtless the sly youngsters stole an hour with their girls in the kitchen when the old folks went out to a knitting party; and it often happened that a young man conld cultivate an in timacy with the father of the lady be loved by playing checkers with him or assisting him in his 'cyder'-making or some other dutv of the farm. "The marriage ceremonies were usually performed in the home of the bride's father, and the affair brought together all of the inhabitants for miles aronnd. Such an event was celebrated in the most jovial manner, and the great spread which followed the nuptials was a matter of mnch importance to the guests. For weeks before the mar riage everything in the domestic routine of the household pivoted upon the ceremony. Spinning wheels were whirring constantly, the carpenter was busy making an addition to the house of another chamber, hams were smoked, cheese pressed, and the rind kept grated, cake and puddings and pies were made, ale brewed, the garret stored with dried fruits, and, just before the day of days, chairs, croekery and spits were bor rowed from the neighbors. "As for the bride's appearance on the nuptial night, her costume was simple and devoid of any fussy drapes;herhair was tidv, her garments all new and very serviceable and no doubt her flushed complexion added to her beauty and made her radiant when she smiled. "All these matters, and incidents show how honest and frank the people were. Iu the highest circles there was a great display of finery, because the rich were, by law, allowed to 'fix up,' but the masses knew and kept their place. "There, miss, I've told you in substance all about the courtings and marriages of the Colonists, and yon will observe that they were quite genuine, perhaps no more so than now; but to my way of thinking there was a greater sincrritv in love matters in 1660 than there is in 1890. Don't you think so?" "Perhaps," said the maid. TnE Delves. WHI CE0KEE STATS AWAY. Tammany's Chieftain Has Been Smoklnc Too Mnch to Return to Politics. heir York Snn.J The latest authentic information from Weisbaden is to the eflect that Bichard Croter will not return to New York before theendofAu?nstnext. He is gradually, but slowly, recovering from the effects of what is known outside of the ranks of medi cal men as "nicotine poison." Becovery from its effects is extremely slow, and would not be assisted or promoted by a return to the turmoil of local politics. SHEKELS ASP BEAUTY Commercial Value of a Pretty .Face and Figure on the Stage. THE PUBLIC TIEED OF OLD TYPES. Overweight the One Great Enemy of Per sonal Attractiveness. EISE ASD FALL OF FAM0U3 LADIES rWEITTES TOB TH DISrATCB.1 Mrs. IJangtry's beauty was an endowment worth about $1,000,000. As a business ven ture she has paid interest at 6 per cent on $2,000,000, but then she has had off years, such as the one three seasons ago when she dyed her hair; and this year, when she is harassed iu a grim, malignant and rasping way by the gout. The Langtry's beauty was more productive of gold than the genius of Bachel, Bosa Bonheur, George Sand, Ouida and George Eliot combined. In view of all this, why sneer at beauty on the stage? It makes the world wobble sideways on its beaten-track, and casts a blush over the face of the moon. Had Mrs. Brown-Potter been as beautiful as she is reckless, she, too, might have been quoted in seven figures. As it is, she is somewhat to be likened in a general way to Northern Pacific stock, with Mr. Bellew in the position of Yillard. The general desire to know what he is going to do with it as far as Mr. Yillard is concerned has always been a very pronounced influence over the value of the stock. When people find out what Mr. Bellew is going to do with Mrs. Potter there will be some martcet value in her. At present she is quoted far below the closing price of last season, on account of Mr. Bel lew's desire to play in London. Where he goes the Potter will follow, according to the most authentic and reliable information from Europe. GESIUS 'WITHOTJT BEATJTT. A vivid idea of the commercial value of beauty may be had when one considers the cases of one or two actresses consoicuously lacking in physical attractions. Agnes Booth would have been more than a second Adelaide Neilson if her superb figure had been crowned by a beautiful face. As it is, she is undoubtedly the most artistic and ca- fiable actress in America, and her art has ifted her to a higher plane than nature at first designed. But the fatal gift is not there. Despite her maturity, she occupies a com manding position in the first stock company in the country, but wherea a statuesque and wooden Langtry makes $60,000 or $70, 000 a year, the exqnisite art of an Agnes Booth, unaided by beauty, must be content with one-sixth of that sum. Theater goers, according to dramatic ex pers, are growing weary of the older profes sional beauties. Lillian Bussell and Panline Hall have trained off a lot of superfluous flesh, but a good deal of the charm has gone. One does not like to think that tbev did not grow so, but were forced down to their pres ent symmetrical lines by bicycle riding, a starvation diet, tremendous walks on dusty roads, and the renunciation of half the good things of life. In France women of the robust type remain beauties for a long while, and, to a certain extent, this is also true of England. But the standard of beauty in America holds delicacy to be the chief requisite. Hence the fame of such distinctively American types of beauty as Ada Behan, Virzinia Dreher, Edith King-don-GouId and, Emma Juch. THE AXEBICAX TYPE. It is absurd for English critics to continue to assert that there is no American types of beauty. Everybody knows the English beauty. She is square-shouldered, small of waist, with a straight nose, broad brows and a chin that is rather massive in comparison with the rest of the face, very lame hands and feet, and stalwart carriage. Further more, the English type is distinctively ath letic, pushed to such an extreme degree that in nine cases out of ten it is mascu line. The French type, on the other hand, is precisely the reverse of this. It is in no sense athletic, and never awkward. Every thing lies in expression in France whether facial or verbal. The French women grow shapeless, are prone to be inordinately plump, and do not exercise enough, but a wonderful charm lies beneath their constant and infinite mobility of expression. The American woman fully realizes the happy mean between these two extremes. No wonder the Englishmen all marry our girls, and that the American women are half mobbed when they stray about in Paris. They have gone in for athletics enough to give them the most willowy and beautiful figures in the world, but they are not bony and hard. They have a freedom of manner and a vivacity and variety of expression which comes from cosmopolitan ancestry. American girls possess an all-around beanty. Judic was considered the most fascinating beauty on the French stage foryears. thouzh. she had round shoulders and a shapeless fig ure. Her only attractive feature was her eves. No woman can achieve distinction as a beauty in America merely on the strength of her eye or the symmetry of her figure. She must be in a sense of the same school as that which has lifted Marie Jansen into fame as a professional beauty. It might be called the lovable or huggable school by a man who had a wealth of assurance. THE GIFTED TKEO. Perhaps its greatest and most gifted speci men is Theo, who was once a st.ir in this country and is now on the rapid decline in Paris. " Theo started out as a small, chubby, round and plump baby, to develop into an infantile young cirl, and finally into the most beautifully curved and dimpled young woman on the French stage. At a critical period in her placid career she married an industrious young tailor, who devoted all his time after the marriage ceremony to fit ting the pIumD and beautiful curves of Theo with stage gnwns. His skill was so remark able that when Theo was inclosed in the regulation gowns they fitted her as snugly as wet tissue paper, and Paris raved over her curves. She did America for a season, and after that Theo became fat. She has never since been able to reduce herself to the old dimensions, despite the most heroic and self-sacrificing efforts. This enemy of beauty on the staee over abundant weight affects nearly" all of them, and the unhappy part of it is that after the first visitation the effects are for ever afterward discernible. One of the most remarkable instances of the baleful results of over-weight in women that I have ever seen is that of Jeffries Lewis. She was a few years ago not only one of the most powerful and commanding actresses on the American stage, bnt she had a face and fig ure that men associated with genius. She shared with Clara Morris the honor of absolutely swaying audiences at her will. ALL GONE TO FAT. The other day I happened to be in front of Tiffany's when she passed. Not a trace of the -figure remained. I should sav that the actress would weigh nearly 200 pounds, and her skin is of the peculiarly colorless shade which sometimes comes to fat people. If it is difficult for men to keep from get ting too stout with all the activity which en ters into a man's life how much more so it must be for a beautiful woman about whom every sort of luxuries is usually grouped. One season of champaign, pate-de-foi-gras and late suppers removed from her throne a girl known as Genevieve Lytton, who reigned absolutely for a time. Once in a while the training down process proves. to be a mistake. This was the case I think with Miss Amelia Sommerville, the plump young woman who made such a success when Dixey first produced Adonis. She ate meat and toast, took vast quantities of exercise, and less llussian baths, lots of medicine and gradually reduced her plump and dimpled exterior to the proportions of a stalwart, slim and angular grenadier. She is a cood comedienne, but is out of an engagement. BlakelyHalu -iaakiiAS K - . ' . - . 4t i. - .. - t .-.:, ,. . f..4 . lil-iix.&Z, JtuTtiinatiSSji. kLtt& EtEBBssRKa ljHSslSas! J2&L ! 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Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers