FTTH
Democratic atc
Bellefonte, Pa.,Nov. 27, 189L.
AROUND THANKSGIVING TIMF.
From gold to gray
Our wild sweet day
Of Indian summer fades too soon ;
But tenderly
Above the sea
Hangs, white and calm, the hunter’s moon
In its pale fire.
The village spire,
Shows like the zodiac’ spectral lance ;
The painted walls whereon it falls
Transfigured stand in marble trance !
— Whittier.
A ——————
A REAL THANKSGIVSNG PRIZE.
She couldn’t cook a turkey
Or make a pumkin pie
And as for frying doughnuts
She simply wouldn't try.
She couldn’t set a table,
Her bread would never rise,
And yet her husband called her
His sweet Thanksgiving prize,
For all though on all housekeeping
Her faculties were lame,
She had a hundred thousand
In her own sweet name.
— Truth.
rE ———_— E——
CINDERELLA
And Her Wonderful Pumpkin Pie.
BY CURTIS DUNHAM.
(Copyright, 1891, by Globe Press Association.)
I, upon reading this Thanksgiving
story, you should be displeased at the
apparent disrespect shown to time-hon-
ored methods of telling such stories,
you will please remember that I have
merely set down the facts, and that,
further than regards the manner of
presenting those facts, I cannot be
held responsible. The twins, Rob
and Ray are the real culprits, for itis
they who furnish not only the plot but
also the spectacular effects, which, as
every one knows, are decidedly out of
place in orthodox Thanksgiving sto:
ries. In order to find and rebuke these
young gentlemen you would have to
get off the train at the old New ng
land town famous for its House of Sev-
en Gables and proceed thence along a
wagon road quite a distance into the
country back of the town. You will
know when to stop if you keep a sharp
lookout for an extremely ancient pear
tree, with a stone wall built around it,
which stands alone in a field on the
left-hand side of the road. This field
is a part of the ancestra; homestead of
the Dunlevy family, and if you should
go into the parlor of the spacious farm
house, a little farther on,under the hill
you would see above the mantel a wa-
ter color sketch of the ancient pear
tree including a very pretty girl sitting
on the stone wall with a big basket of
pears on her arm. In the lower cor
ner of the picture you would find the
signature of Philip Turner. The pret-
ty girl in the picture is a fair represen:
tation of the youngest of the exceeding
ly attractive trio of Dunlevy daughters,
as she appeared just a month before
Thanksgiving day a year ago. Though
christened Ruth, her diminutive person
and dainty manners had won for her
the name of Cinderella, and none of
her acquaintances ever thought of ad-
dressing her by any other. Her sis-
ters, Dorothy and Mary, were sensible
as well as accomplished girls and re-
cognized belles of the neighborhood.
As for Philip Turner, that big, blonde-
whiskered young painter, who looking
for a quite summer retreat early in
June, had stopped at the Daunlevy
homestead, delight with its simple com-
forts and the charms of the surrourd-
ing landscape, and retused to proceed a
step further. The twins whose seven-
teenth birthday had been selected by
the President as the day for the na-
tional annual feast and thanksgiving,
were a pair of slight, rather delicate
youths of keen artistic temperaments,
but a trifle stupid concerning the prac-
tical things of life, as you shall pre-
sently see.
About a week before the greatest
day of all the year at the Dunlevy
homestead, Rob ‘and Roy were rehears-
ing some flute and guitar selections in
their den under the eaves of the cap-
acioug farm house when Rab, lying
down his instrument and smoothing
the puckers out of his lips, observed:
“Jt was very thoughttul of the Presi-
dent to request the people ot the Unit
ed States to celeprate our birthday,
wasn’t it, Roy ?”
“Very, indeed,” assented the other
twin, as he put a fresh E string on his
guitar. “I think we ought to do some-
thing extraordinary in honor ot the oc-
casion.”
“So do I. Why mot practice some
new selections and invite the family
and guests to a grand concert after din-
ner?”
“That would be a good idea,” said
Roy, “if the family could be induced
to regard our musical efforts with prop-
er seriousness. The family have been
guying us of late, I am sure of it.”’
4] have it,” said Rob suddenly.
“The notion has been haunting me for
several days. We will disguise our
rausic with a little dramatic perfor-
mance to which it will act as an orches-
tra accompaniment and in which the
athers will be invited to fake part. Un-
til just this moment I have been nn-
abie to decide upon an appropriate sub-
jeet for the dramatic sketch whieh, of
course must be original. Now it is all
plain to me. When dinner is ove, all
but dessert, we will hold a competitive
pumpkin pie examination, the girls to
be the contestants and Mr. Turner the
judge. Fach con'estant will enter to
spirited music bearing her pie, and
when the judge has sampled it she will
retire to slow music. Judgment hav-
ing been rendered, the performance
will end with a grand musical finish.
What do you think of that?”
“It's a first rate idea,” said Roy,
heartily, “and’’—lewering his voice—
“I think it will settle a question that
has been bothering me a good deal late-
fy. Judges are rarely free from pre-
judice. Mr. Turner has been here
ever since early in June. Ife has
sketched and painted everything the
country affords and still he doesn’t go.
‘I'he pumpkin pie examination will
settle—"
“Whether it is Dorothy or Mary,”
interrupted Roy eagerly.
“Precisely, though everybody knows
that their pies can’t come within sight
of Cinderella's. Mr. Turner won't
know whether he is eating pie or
prunes.”
“My own private opinion is in favor
of Dorothy,” said Rob, “for since it has
become too cold to sketeh out doors he
has been giving her painting lessons in
the dining room.”
“Very true, but while Dorothy is
practicing with her colors in the din-
ing room you will more than likely
find Mr. Turner in the parlor teaching
Mary tospeak French.”
«Besides, there may be some signi-
ficance in the name of Cinderella.”
“Nonsense,” replied Roy with con-
vietion. “He has only put her in the
pear tree picture because she is little
and cute. Cinderella is out of the
question. It is either Dorothy or
Mary and the competitive pumpkin
pie examination will settle it. Let's
try, ‘Make me no Gaudy Chaplet over
again. That
music,”
All unconscions of the twins con-
spiracy the other members of the Dua-
cipatein the proposed entertainment.
into training at once, Not another
morsel should pass his lips until the
contesting pies were placed before him
for judicial inspecticn.
“But where do 1 come in?” inquired
Mother Dunlevy.
“The best thing you can do is to
make Dorothy’s and Mary's pies for
them,” replied Rob, maliciously, and
had his ears well boxed for his impu-
dence.
As the great day drew nearer ex-
quisite odors rose from the kitchen and
mingled with melodious strains, which
descended from the den uader the
eaves, where the orchestra seemed to
be in a perpetual state of rehearsal.
Whenever the musicians found it nec-
essary to invade the lower regions in
search of refreshments they sometimes
found Dorothy and Mr. Philip Turner
discussing painting in the dining room,
or Mary and Mr. Philip Turner in the
parlor exchanging confidences 1n the
French language, but they always
found Cinderella in the kitchen envel-
oped in a wemendous white apron.
From early morning until long after
dark this wonderful white apron and
the little lady inside of it—I say little
lady for Cinderella had been ‘‘finihsed”
at a fashionable boarding echool and
was the heiress of a wealthy grand-
mother—held undisputed sway in that
thanksgiving paradise, the Dunlevy
kitchen. The twins made a joke of it,
and professed to be overawed by the
white apron.
“Do you sleep in it, Cindy,” asked
Rob one day as he washed down a
lunch of apple pie with a mug of cider.
“No,” answered Cinderell sweetly,
“put I cook things in it that would
melt in the mouths ot people who
wouldn't listen to your fiddling. Run
along now, sonny.”
The twins attached no importance
to the actions of Mr. Philip Turner so
long as that gentleman let painting
alone, conversed in the Engligh lan-
guage and kept clear of tete-a tetes in
the parlor and dining room. They
thonght it very amiable and conde-
scending in him to spend a couple of
hours in the kitchen peeling apples or
ceacking hickory nuts for Cinderella.
Two grandmothers, one grandfather,
three uncles and their wives, one aunt
and her husband, half a dozen cousins
and the minister and his wife—these
were the fortunate guests at the mem-
orable Thanksgiving feust, No pre-
vious celebration of its kind at the Dun-
levy hemestead had equaled it from
any point of view. The customary
limit as to guests had been raised six
or eight plates at the urgent request of
the twins who declared that the per-
formance would fall flat if presented to
empty benches.
1 rhall make no attempt to describe
the extraordinary superiority of this
particular Thanksgiving dinner over
any |eaten anywhere else or in any other
year of our independence.
A programm of the entertainment to
be given between roast and dessert had
been placed beside each plete. As the
of beef and the tender roast pig melted
away before the common assault of
sharpe appetites these programmes in-
creased in importance. When, at last,
the twins excused themselves and pre-
sently reapeared with music and instru-
ments, they were greeted with tumul-
tuous applause. The opening bars of
Von Weber's favorite waltz was the
signal for Dorothy, Mary and Cinder-
ella to disappear, with their disappear-
ance Mr. Philip Turner assumed an as-
pect of judicial gravity that convulsed
the orchestra and caused the audience
to entertain serious doubts regarding
Von Weber's judgment: in matters
musical. Presently three short raps
on the kitchen door caused the orches-
tra to realize the importance of its
talk. The music changed to, “Make
Me No Gandy Chaplet,’ the kitchen
door opended, and
(Enter Dororay, majestically, bearing
a tray covered with a snowy napkin,
which she places before Philip as music
ceases.)
Dozrorny— (removing naplin)— Will
your honor graciously design to par-
take of this Thanksgiving pie made by
my own hands from a pumpkin grown
on Dunlevy farm?”
Prinip— ‘With pleasure, fair lady.
(Eats a generous segment of the pie with
evident satisfaction.)
things which make life worth living!”
Ros—(to Rox, excitedly)—“That set-
tles it. It's Dorothy!”
Exit DorotHY to slow music, bearing
tray to kitchen. As she returns and re-
sumes her place qt the table music
changes to * Napolean's March Over the
Alps,” and
Fonter MARY , mincingly, bearing tray
mhich she places before PHILIP.
ceases.
Many—“Willyour honor condescend
to taste this Thanksgiving pie made by
my own hands from a pumpkin grown
will do for entrance
on Dunlevy farm ?”
PuiLip— (devouring a section of the
pie areedilyy—+Willingly, fair lady.
(helps himself to more pic). Ah, the
blessing of a perfect appetite!”
Roy—(to Ro, excitedly)—"*That set-
tles it. It's Mary.”
Exit MARY to slow music, bearing tray
to Fitchen. As she returns and resumes
her place at the table music changes to,
“See the Conquering Hero Comes” and
Enter CINDERELLA, simply in her won-
derful white apron bearing tray which she
laces before PRILIP.
There is no doubt but that the twins
intended their selection of Cinderella's
entrence music to be regarded by the
audience as a delicate bit of satire.
They were, therefore, not a little as-
tonished at the hearty applause which
greeted her speech to the judge. As
Mr. Philip Turner gravely attacked
the third pumpkin pie in the competi-
tive =eries the twins observed that Cin-
derelia, strangely agitated, was unable
to leave her place behind Philip's chair
for the reason that her small right
hand was firmly clasped in that young
gentleman's otherwise unoccupied left.
“Something extraordinary is going
levy household readily agreed to parti- ¢
| blushing so tor 2”
Mr. Turner declared that he should go
fifteen-pound turkey, the juicy sirloin’
Ah, these are!
Music |
on here,” whispered Rob to his twin
brother. “What on earth 1s Cindy
“Is it possible that we have been de-
ceived?” ejaculated Roy, allowing his
instrument to fall clattering to the
floor. .
“Be still, Mr. Turner ie going to make
a speech!”
The artist had risen and was stand-
ing beside Cinderella with her hand
still clasped in his. Father Dunlevy’s
eyes were moist and Mother Dunlevy’s
rested fondly on the blushing little girl
in the big white apron. The minister
smiled benignantly. The grandparents |
aunts, uncles, and cousins beamed ap-
proval from their respective sides of
the table. No one seemed surprised
but the twins, who looked on in open
mouthed amazement. Mr. Philip
Turaer drank a glass of water, drew a
little nearer to the big white apron,
and suid :
“From long experience as a judge of
pies, particularly those of the pumpkin
variety, I have learned thatthe ques-
tion narrows itself down te one very
important point—the crust’s the thing.
In the present competition none but an
expert, like myself, could have detect
ed the slightest point of superiority in
any one of the contesting pies over the
other two; but, as I said before, long
experience, and the cultivation—at
great expense—of a nicely discriminat-
ing sense of taste, enabled me, not
without difficulty, however, to discover
in one of these pies a certain flaky
lightness of crust that [ have never
betore seen equaled. Having obtained,
some weeks ago, the consent of the
proper authorities (here Mr. Philip |
Turner bowed gracefully to Father and |
Mother Dunlevy, while the twins near-
ly collapsed with astonishment) [ take
this occasion to present to you, in the |
person of the future Mrs. Turner, the
most expert maker of pumpkin pies
this great and glorious country has
thus far produced.”
“Amen,” said the minister heartily,
and amid tremendous applause Philip
and Cinderella resumed their seats.
“Everybody knew it but us,” whis-
pered Roby to the other crestfallen
twin.
“Keep still,” returned Roy, “or you
will give us away. I teel like an
idiot.”
Then ended the gayest, happiest,
most perfect Thanksgiving dinner ever
given at the Dunlevy homestead.
When the first embarrassment of the
scene had worn off no one was gayer
or happier than the little girl in the
big white apron. If, three or four
days before the present Thanksgiving
day, you had chanced to call at the
Ducelevy farm house you would, in all
probability have discovered Mrs. Philip
Turner, in identically the same white
apron formally worn by Cinderella,
making pumpkin pies in the Dunlevy
kitchen while discussing with Mr. |
Philip Dunlevy the disadvantages o
life in a flat. !
TCA —
Something You “Cannot Do Without.
Those who desire tobe well informed
on all current events- -and who does not
—should be supplied with the Pitts-
burg Weekly Post. It has earned a
reputation for standard accuracy by
long years of fidelity to the principles of
true journalism. Itseeks reliability ; it
avoids sensationalism. It is a reflex of
the progressive conservation of Western
Pennsylvania. It furnishes the news
of the world, it reflects the best thought
of modern life, it is elevated in tone,
pure in phraseology, accurate jn state-
ment. Its editorial columns utter the
sentiments of sterling Democracy, hold-
ing fast to the constitutional principles
of this government, battling for
economy and integrity in public affairs,
chastising the corrupt in high places.
It isa journal for the mechanic, ihe
farmer, the merchant, for the shop and
the fireside. Its rates of subscription
put it within the reach of all. Tie your-
self to the Post, with its 12 pages and
96 columns of reading matter. Price
$1.25 a year. In clubs of five or more
$1 a year. Send for free sample copy.
Muffins without yeast are made
thus: Mix two tablespoonful of brown
sugar, a little salt and a teaspoonful of
soda, with two cups of buttermilk, and
enough flour to make a moderately stiff
batter. Bake in muffin rings in a hot
oven for ten minutes. If buttermilk is
not handy, sweet milk can be substitut- |
ed for it ; but in that case a little cream
of tartar must be added to the mixture.
TCE START
—— The Secretary of the Treasury
has decided that itis unlawful for news-
papers to publish fac-similes of new
coins or #ny coins. These graven iu-
ages of worshiped things may have a
fascination, but we must forego their
charm.
——1T have been a great sufferer from
i little cider.
dry catarrh for many years, and I tried
many remedies, but none did meso much
benefit as Ely’s Cream Balm. It com-
pletely cured me. M. J. Lally, 39
‘Woodward Ave, Boston Highlands,
Mass.
In Ancient Times.
There was a Feast of Thanksgiving
From Time Immemorial. |
|
Thanksgiving Day is not an Ameri- |
can idea. Ages and ages ago in empires :
long since fallen one day of each year |
was set apart for thanksgiving to the |
Creator. In this country it was not |
observed in the West and South until
after the war, but in New England it!
may be said to date from the middle of |
the seventeenth century, Over 3,000 |
years ago Moses instructed the Isrealites
to keep a feast after they got established |
in the Holy Land. They called it!
the feast of the Tabernacle, and for
eight days, following the close of the
harvest, they dwelt in booths made
chiefly of green boughs, and feasted on
corn, wine, oil and fruits. In the
course of time a splendid ritual for the
feast was adopted, including much sing-
ing in responsive choruses. Somewhat
later the Greeks held a nine days’ feast
of similar character, in which slaves
were allows to take part, and all crimin-
als except murderers. The Romans had
a similar feast in honor of Ceres, goddess
of grain.
The Saxon had a “Harvest Home,”
and after them the English, which festi-
val was observed ina sort of way in
some of the American colonies.
In the year 1621 the Pilgrim fathers
tried to celebrate, but it was rather a
gloomy affair. In 1623 a ship loaded
with provisions failed to arrive and Gov.
Bradford appointed a day of humilia-
tion, fasting and prayer, but the expect-
ed ship arrived and so the made it a day
of thanksgiving.
Ninety Indians, under Chief Massa-
soit, took part. In 1631 the Puritans
ran out of provisions, and Feb. 9 was
named as a day of fasting and prayer.
As in the other case, the ship arrived,
and they had a feast instead. June 15,
1637, there was a general service in all
churches of New Fngland, to give
thanks for the great victory at Fort
Mystic over the Pequots, and on the
92nd of October following a general ser-
vice and feast, in honor of Peace and
the seutling of some religious differences.
Forty yeurs later Gov. Andros ordered
the people to give thanks on the first
day of December; but they hated An-
dros and didn’t thank worth a cent.
Several persons werearrested for treat-
ing the proclamation with contempt,
but this struck the home authorities as
rather ludicrous, and his conduct was
disapproved.
Thereafter Thanksgiving was pretty
generally observed in all England and
the States settled by her, the governcr
naming the day.
George Washington recommended to
Congress the naming ot a National day
in 1789, for the adoption of the constitu-
tion. It was gone and the day was
generally observed. 1n 1795 the pro-
ceeding was repeated. James Madison
appears to have issued the first Presi-
dential proclamation on the subject, in
1815, in honor of the return of Peace.
Forty-eight years {passed before Presi-
dent Lincoln issues the Jsecond one, in
1863. Since then every President has
followed the custom aud the day is Na-
tionally observed at last.
Points in Cider Vinegar Making.
L. R. Bryant, secretary of the Cider
and Cider Vinegar Makers’ Association
of the Northwest, recently had the fol-
lowing to say in Prairie Farmer :
The essentials for making cider vine-
gar on a small scale are a grinder to
grind up the apples into a fine pulp, a
good press to extract the juice, barrels to
put the juice in a frost proof room or
cellar to store the product in, and, of
course, & good supply of decent apples.
Ordinarily good windfalls will make
good material for vinegar, but care
should be taken to reject all immature,
wilted and rotten apples. When the
cider is made it should be put into good
iron bound barrels and ranked up out
of doors, but in the shade, and allowed
to ferment. The barrels should be
placed on timbers or poles elevated from
the ground sufficiently to allow the
zontents to be run off into other barrels.
On the approach of freezing weather
rack off the vinegar stock into clean
barrels (only three-fourths filled) by
means of a faucet placed in the end of
the barrel, or preferably with a syphon
made of five-eighths rubber tubing.
This should be raised an inch above the
bottom of the barrel to avoid drawing
off the sediment. All settlings should
be put into a separate barrel. The bar-
rels can now be ranked up in their win-
ter quarters, the bungs taken out and
remain undisturbed until the contents
become good vinegar, provided they are
kept in a furnace heated cellar or arti-
ficially heated room.
An’ ordinary cellar is too cool to make’
vinegar quickly, and ifsucha place is
used for winter storage the barrels can
be removed to a& common shed on the
approach of warm weather, remember-
ing alwaysto rack oft the contents. be-
fore a barrel is moved. Never put bar-
rels in the sun in hot weather, as they
will be spoiled and the contents lost.
When the vinegar is thoroughly made
a cool, dry cellar is an excellent pince
to store it, and the barrels may be filled
and bunged up.
Tov make good cider or vinegar use
good, clean apples; exposure to heat
and air is what makes vinegar; to have
bright, clear vinegar free from must,
rack it before moving it, if it has been
standing any length of time, and thor-
oughly clean the barrels as soon as
emptied, Good vinegar cannot be made
out of a large quantity of water and a
Strong, late made cider
may bear the addition of a little water,
but that made early in the season will
not.
PROCRASTINATION. —¢Did yer father
lick yer, Jimmie?
Yep.”
“Did yer put the jograjhy in yer
pants ?”’
Yep.
“Then what yer cryin’ fur?”
“Ah—h—h—I didn’t have time to
get me pants on—Boo--- 1"
ETC ACA.
— Adam might have been the
“goodiest man of men since born” but it
doesn’t appear that be he ever did any-
thing especially good for his large fam-
ily. What a lusting blessing he might
Lave left behind if he could have made
Salvation Oil and kill pain.
Edison's Workshop.
Acres of Buildings Filled With
derful Things.
Mr. Edison was recently found by a
reporter working away in his shirt-
Wo :
RNA RT,
The World of Woiacn.
A St. John(N. B.} wouian is at the
| head of the ice trade in thut city.
sleeves at some device he was striving to |
perfect.
streaks on, It was at his great labora-
| tory in Llewellyn Park, N. J.
In one corner of the room was a wash-
stand, and the rest of the space wus
taken up with bottles, machines, and
other articles of experiments. The
room in which Mr. Edison sleeps when
at the laboratory is quite as simple.
He had one of his inventive |
“Tiger” cloth is used as a trimming,
as bands of the skin of thi= animal were
used six years ago.
All in all the prevailine in
fur are pretty sensible and fully as easy
on the pocket book as they usually are.
There are now 120
imeorporated wo-
‘men’s clubs in the Federation of Clubs,
This laboratory covers several acres. |
Its original cost must have been more |
! than $500,000, and it takes, it is said, |
| more than $100,000 a year to run it. :
Itis the most complete laboratory in
the world, and no inventor mn bistory
has ever had any thing like it. In 1s
storeroom he has pieces of every known
material substance, he says from a spool |
of cotton to the eyeballs of a United
States Senator. There are more than
25,000 different articles in the storeroom
and some of them cost $1,000 an ounce.
The workshops of the laboratory cover
more than four acres of floor space, and
the great big brick building, with its
big windows, looks more like a factory
than a place for experiments. Hvery-
thing in it is complete, from 1ts mechan-
ical rooms to its musical department,
and you will find no finer photograph
gallery anywhere in the country.
Do you think that the inventions of
the next fifty years will be equal to those
of the last ?”’ asked the reporter.
«J see no reason why they should
not. Itseems to me that we are at the
beginning of inventions. We are dis-
covering new principles, new powers,
and new materials every day, and no
one can predict the possibilities of the
future. Take electricity. When we
get electricity directly from coal, alump
as big as this tumbler will light and
heat a whole house for hours and a bask-
et full would run a factory for a whole
day. In the generation of steam we get
only fourteen per cent of the coal. In
electricity we get ninety six per cent.”
“Shall we ever have flying ma-
chines 7”
¢Ye:, I think so, but it will not be
on any plan now proposed. I have a
different idea in regard to such mutiers,
but I am not ready to experiment with
it yet.”
The conversation here turned to the
telephone, and Mr. Edison talked about
his telephone to the sun. There is in
the New Jersey mountains a vast mass
of iron a mile long and of about the
same width, which runs straight» down
into the earth for several miles,
“The telephone,” said Mr. Edison, “is
made by running a wire around the top
of a magnetic bar, and this machine,
when charged with electricity, enables
us to register the sound which comes in
contact with it. We are using the im-
mense natural bar of ircn of the New
Jersey mountains as the basis of our
telephone. We have wound miles of
wire around its top, and have formed an
inductive circuit, in which we will have
the most powertul of electric currents.
We expect through it to hear the noises
made on the sun, and the explosions
which are supposed to be constantly go-
ing on there will, I believe, within a
few weeks be heard right here. We
have been working at the matter for
some time, and have it just about ready
for testing.
«We have by no means reached the
perfection of the telephone. Improve-
ments are being made all the time, and
the day will come when every one will
have his telephone. Long distance tele-
phoning is growing, and the only re-
striction on the possibilities of the tele-
phone isin the sympathetic contact of
the electrical wire with the rest of na-
ture.”
Mr. Edison said that many phono-
graphs were in use, and he believed
they would be used eventually every-
where. In his laboratory he showed
the reporter his last invention in con-
nection with the phonograph, which he
calls the kinetogtaph, which is almost
as wonderful as the phonograph itself.
With the phonograph you can take a
song of Patti from the lips of the diva
and can reproduce it before an audience
in all its intensity a year later and 1,000
miles away. By the kinetograph, with
the aid of a stereopticon, you can throw
upon a screen a picture of Patti just as
she looked and acted when she was sing-
ing the song, and one of the great exhi-
bitions of the futurs will be the repro-
duction of great speeches and songs in
this way. You can reproduce a panto-
mime with the kinetograph, and you
can make Chauncey Depew deliver the
same after dinner speeches, scores of
times with the same gestures and the
same smile, if you once get him before
it. Itis done by instantaneous .photo-
graphy ot the man who is to be repro-
duced. The machine takes him in ac-
tion, and it so works that it takes 2,760
photographs every minute while he is
speaking, or forty-six pictures every sec-
ond. These photographs are taken on a
lung strip of gelatine film, and in repro-
ducing them they are made to revolve
before the eye as fast as they were t:ken.
The result is that the eye does not
see the forty-six photographs, but it
sees only the one with the motions and
gestures ol the man. One of these ma-
chines in motion represented one of Mr.
Edison's employees taking a smoke, and
you can see the man raise the cigar to
his lips, turn his head, and blow out the
smoke just as natural as if in life. An-
other set of photographs represented a
boxing match, and it was as realistic as
if the men were actually fighting before
your eyes, and it some times took a doz-
en photographs to make a single motion.
Mr. Edison expeets to show this ma-
chine in its perfection at the Columbian
Exposition, The machine was a nickel-
in-the-slot machine, and it will proba-
bly be on the market in a short time.
The strip on which the photographs are
taken is about as wide as a tape meas-
ure, but the figures are magnified
through a glass in looking at them.
——Pennsylvania is capturing the
large iron contracts of the World's fair.
So far the contracts for the great tower
and Machinery hall have been awarded
to Pennsylvania firms, The latter is to
be erected by the Reading Iron Com
pany The building is to be construct-
ed of iron and stone and will be 850 by
500 feet.
of which Mrs. Charles Emerson
is President.
John G. Whittier sent Frances EB.
Willard, on her birthday, a bit of stone
from Oak Knoll, Danvers,with the ex-
pressed wish that he “had a diamond to
send in its stead.”
Nearly all the imported costumes
have moderate trains, the report that
short skirts were to be worn being er-
roneous or applying to gowns intended
exclusively for walking.
Brown
And finally, be sare if you have put
powder npon your face to powder also
your ears and neck, because nothing is
. more apparent than powder upon your
face and not upon the neck.
Strive to keep these things clear;
your eyes, voar complexion, your con-
science ; these things soft. your hair,
vour hands, your heart; these things
clean ; your lips, your name, your
mind.
A green mobair with black stripes
is arranged over a black skirt with three
deep slashes in the outside skirt, which
permit the under one to show. A nar-
row black silk passementerie outlines
the slashes.
Miss Lenore Snyder, the young prima
donna who has been so successful in
pleasing London audiences, is a West-
ern lassie, and, like Geraldine Ulmar,
Emma Eames and other noted stage vo-
calists, is a graduate of a church chair.
Says the Chicago Herald: A leading
fur establishment of the city fhas just
completed for a prominent Chicago lady
a mink ulster in which are 125 finest
New England mink skin, and 300 tails.
The seams in the garment represents 25,-
000 cuts.
The unlined dress skirts of this au-
tumn are a considerable step toward
dress reform. They are delightfully
light and easily managed,and are pro-
vided with hooks and straps which in
rainy weather keep them from the
ground.
Miss Anna Dickinson is sadly broken
in healthy, and her mental trouble
not is not improving. There is but lit-
tle in the unhappy and haggard appear-
ance in the lady to suggest the brilliant
minded and forceful woman Anna Dick-
inson was twenty years ago—or five.
Miss Sarah Bodtker, of Chicago, has
won the $50 prize offered by Mrs. Potter
Palmer, the president of the Lady Man-
agers of the World’s Fair, for the best
design for a seal for that body. Miss
Bodtker had nearly seveuty competitors,
and the award was made by St. Gauden,
the sculptor.
It is proverbial that a man must ask
his wife’s leave to thrive. It is quite as
true that a woman must ask her hus-
band’s leave to be bright and amaible.
Sugar by fermentation turns to acetic
acid. “The sweetest soul that ever
looked through human eyes” will turn
sharp and bitter under the ferment of
rasping marital criticism.
The short shoulder cape reaching to
or a little below the waist line is fully
as popular this season as it has been for
the past year or two. This garment is
pretty convenient and reasonable in
price, and is suitable for all times, occa-
sions and places. It can be put on the
first cool day in autumn, and with a
jacket can be worn all winter.
Jackets are made close fitting at the
back, loose box front, raised sleeves,
deep facing and Medici collar. Seal
jackets with mink sleeves are dressy and
do not have the look of age that plain
seal imparts to the wearer. Seal, mink,
krimmer, marten, moufflon and Per-
sian lamb are all used in combination.
Seal and moufllon is a fashionable com-
bination for children’s coats.
Mary Anderson, according to Dr.
Griffin, her stepfather, (and erstwhile
blooming, booming press agents), ‘is
sweeter, happier and prettier than ever,
and her married life is simply a dream.
She has no intention of ever returning to
the stage, and bas never had any such
desire nor expressed since her marriage
any wish to do so. When she married
she put the stage away forever.”
Capes made of mink or marten are
very fashionable, as are also those of as-
trakhan and other materials. Capes of
coney or cape seal are pretty, inexpen-
sive and wear very nicely. Capes of
monkey fur are not so popular as here-
tofore. This material wears well, but
the far needs an occasional: glazing to
make it look well. Cloth capes trim-
med with beaver or camel’s hair are
fashionable. They are sometimes lined
with the same fur with which they are
edged, and not infrequently they are
made with a hood, edged with fur, as is
also the medici collar now frequently
worn.
When vou wish to look particalarly
pretty in the house :—
Be sure that vour boots match your
gown. You can get kid or suede of any
color you desire.
Be sure that the ribbon bow upon
your slippers is so big and fresh that it
covers up all defects and blemishes,
Be sure that your stockings are thin
enough to give balf a glimpse of the
white skin underneath.
Be sure that the ruffles in the neck aud
sleeves are perfectly. fresh.
Be sure that the chiffon fichu at the
neck is as dainty as possible.
Be sure—be very sure—that the bit
of ribbon with which you tie your
braid or which is stuck upon the side of
your coil in tantalizing old-fashioned
style,is as fresh as it was when it came
off the roll.
Be sure that there are dainty love
curls around your neck and ears.
Be sure that some where upon your
dress their 1s an enameled loop or bow
to match your gown.
Be sure to have little bags of sachet
powder sown in the lining where they
will be out of sight but not out of
mind.
Bo sure to have all loose ends and
loops caught down with pretty stick
pins. %
————