aa 1 EE ———
Bellefonte, Pa., Feb. 5, 1892.
WHAT A BOY CAN DO.
These are some of the things that a boy can do:
He can whistle so loud that the air turns blue,
He can make all sounds of beast and bird,
And a thousand noises never heard.
He can crow or cackle, or he can cluck
As well as a rooster, hen or duck ;
He can bark likea dog, he can low like a cow ;
And a cat itself can’t beat him “me-ow.”
He has sounds that are ruffed, striped and
plain
He can thunder past like a railway train,
Stop at the station a breath, and then
Apply the steam and be off again.
He has all his powers in such command
Ha can turn right into a full brass band,
With all of the instruments ever played,
As he makes of himself a street parade.
You can tell that a boy is Yery ill
If he's wide awake and keeping still ;
But earth would be—God bless their noise !—
A dull old place if they were no boys.
+ Re -—-———————
A NEW YEAR'S IDYL.
He resolved to leave off smoking,
Swearing, chewing, nasty joking,
Drinking, gambling, never poring ?
Hisruddy nasal organ into other folk’s affairs.
His great goodness—so folks réckoned—
Made the angels glad—they beckoned,
And on January second
He started, hare and happy, up the broad
celestial stairs.
f f —Music and Drama.
AGAINST WIND AND TIDE.
By ANNA SHEILDs.
People in Maysville always shrugged
their shoulders when Mark Lanson
was mentioned, and usually the ex-
pressive gesture was followed by some
depreciating remark. :
“ Comes of bad stock,” old Judge
Lennox would say in his pompous, dic-
tatorial manner. ¢ All the Lamsons
were worthless, and Mrs. Lamson was
a Hodge, and everybody knows what
they are.”
The house in which Mark was born,
and where be scrambled up to man-
hood, was a large farm house, tum-
bling to pieces inside, with a roof al-
ways being patched against leaking,
doors without locks and with shaking
hinges, windows that rattled in every
wind, ceilings that dropped plaster
whenever a neavy foot shook the up-
per rooms and furniture in the last
stage of shabbiness. His father and
mother were slatternly in dress, shift-
less in household management, and the
handsome, bright boy was over-indul-
ged and neglected as their own indo-
lence suggested.
But Mark Lamson inherited none of
the leading traits of his parents.” Prob-
ably in some remote ancestor there was
a mixture of energy, resolution and
ability of which the Maysville gossips
had never heard, and for which they
certainly gave Mark no credit. It was
in vain that the Principal of the Mays-
ville High School declared that Mark
had graduated with the best record he
had ever given 1n the school. It was
useless for the lad himself to keep his
life free from blame, and earnestly en-
deavor to do his duty. Maysville
could not forget he was a Lamson and
his mother was a Hodge—‘‘bad stock !”’
As he passed from boyhood to man-
hood, Mark began the unequal strug
gle against fate and circumstances,
that was dictated only by his own ener-
gy. His father had been able to get
bread from the farm by a lazy tillage
that gave the bare necessities for the
table ; his mother had a very small in-
come that gave the three clothing of
the poorest description, and both were
in open-mouthed wonder that Mark
was not content, as they had been, to
dawdle through life and “make out”
with what they had.
And Mark, strugeling to attain bet-
ter things, with only a vague, undisci-
plined longing for improvement, mei
no encouragement at home or abroad.
He tried to obtain a situation, but em-
ployers were shy about giving work to
a Lamson; he met bat a cool recep:
tion at the Maysville social gatherings,
having no knowledge of how to repair
his own linen or keep his poor clothing
even tidy. Boy-like he imagined a new
suit and a gay necktie were all-suffi-
cient fora party, and did not heed the
frayed cufls and broken collars at
which the Maysville belles turned up
their noses.
But, in spite of his father’s lazy com-
ments, his mother’s fretful remonstran-
ces, Mark Lamson, finding no em-
ployment outside, determined to see if
the farm would not find him in work.
“Oh, yes; do as you please,” his
father said. “ But there is no money
for new-fangled fixings, and the land is
about worn out. Plenty of ‘it, to be
sure, but "taint worth shucks.”
So. single-handed, Mark undertook
the work of bringing up the old farm.
larly and late he toiled, repairing
fences. weeding, picking stones, rooting
out dead stumps, preparing his land,
without one hand stretched out to help
hini; ose voice to wish him sucess,
Thomas, the only-man his father em-
ployed, gave a surly refusal to aid, up-
on the ground that his regular routine
of shiftless farming took all bis time,
and Mark patiently submitted.
He was, twenty-one years old, when
into his dull, monotonous life came a
new stimulus—a hope, bright as a
vision and alinost as baseless, He fell
in love! He did not walkin cautiously,
counting his steps and weighing his
chances, but he fel! in plump, suddenly,
hopelessly.
There had been a warm discussion at
tbe Judge's about inviting Mark to the |
party that was to celebrate ILssie's
eighteenth birthday and her final re-
turn from boarding school. But the
pet of the house had a will of her own
and a ‘lively recollection of Mark's
handsome face and boyish gallantries,
and insisted upon his heing invited.
Mark, carrying in his memory only a
pretty little gir], found himself confron-
ed by an undeniable beauty; a face
to win homage in far more pretentious
circles than Maysville boasted, and a
gentle grace of manner none of the
girls of his acquaintance had ‘ever éx-
tended to him.
The touch of the soft little hand
offered to greet him riveted the chains
Essie’s face had cast about Mark's
heart, and made him her slave then and
there. He had starved all his life for
sympathy,and his first half-hour with
Essie filled his longing heart with con-
tent. She remembered all the boyish
aspirations ; she entered into all his
hopes and ambitions. The party wae
the beginning of ‘an intercourse that
stimulated anew every good resolution,
ave a new vigor to every hope of
$iari's life.
The village was essentially democratic,
child and heiress of the ‘richest most
influential man in the place did not pre-
vent her from visiting Mrs. Lamson
upon terms of perfect equality, She
was fond of the weak amiable woman,
strongly as she cehsured, in her youth-
ful strength, the easy-going indolence
that made her home such a scene of
confusion and discomfort ; and in her
gentle, pleasant way, she, endeavored
to brighten that home for Mark by
suggestions and offers of help that fell
to the ground. . It was like fighting a
feather bed to try to rouse Mrs. Lam-
gon to an active improvement, and re-
buffed there,Essie could only help Mark
by words of sympathy that were like
wine of life to his love. “
i An hour with Essie sent him back
to his uphill work full of new hope,
every energy stimulated, every hope
brightened. He had not dared to set
before him in plain words the hope of
one day winning her heart to his own,
for there was all the humility of true
passion in that young, ardent heart,
but he realized a new force, a new
spur to ambition.
Essie never sneered at him as the
neighbors had become accustomed to
doing ; Essie never threw cold water
over his plans for improving the land ;
Essie was never sarcastic over the
clashing of his poverty and his ambi-
tions. As he saw her more frequently,
he ventured to tell her of wider, wild-
er hopes, of some day escaping from
the drudgery before him, and making
his way to a city, where his education
might give him a start in more congen-
ial occupation.
“ Father and mother seem to need
me, now,” he told Essie, one day;
“they are old, and they have no other
child. Ithick it is my plain duty to
stay.”
“I think itis,” was the quick reply ;
‘your mother could scarcely bear a
separation.”
“ And while I am here, I must do
the work that lies under my hand,” he
said, “hard as it is! But Essie,” and
his face brightened, “do you know that
(already I have made the farm pay
double what it has ever done. Next
Spring I can hire help out of money I
saved from the sale of last vear’serops!
Essie, all eager interest, entered into
discussion of the capabilities of such a
lot for tarnips, such a patch for wheat,
the possibilities of a dairy, the best
culture for fowls, as if .she had never
studied music or filled her head with
French and German verbs.
But the horror and wrath of Judge
Lennox, when, after two years of mild
courtship, Mark took his fate in his
bands and asked permission to marry
Essie, cannot be described.
“A Lamson!” he cried, when hav-
ing dismissed Mark hLereturned to the
bosom of his family. “ A Lamson for
Essie’s husband! The fellow wants
my money to spend aiter all his father
and his grandfather have squandered.”
‘ Do you really and truly think Mark
is a ependtbrift, papa ?”’ Essie asked
quietly. “Does he ever lounge about
the stores or taverns, as Harry Carter
and James Rayburn do |”
“I—Well, no, I never saw him,”
was the reluctant admission.
“ Did you ever hear that he drank
or gambled, or even ~moked ?
“ N-o—1I never di.”
“Is he not regular at church 2”
* Ye—ee.”
* But, oh, Essie!” struck in Mrs
Lennox. * What shabby, half-washed
shirts he wears, and his fingers all out
of his gloves, and half the buttons of
his coat gone!”
“ Poor Mark!” said Essie, gently.
“ He neeas a wife.”
“Well, he need not look here for
one,” growled the Judge.
“1 heard Mr. Thompson say, la:t
week,” said Essie. quietly, *“ that there
is not a better farm in Greene County
than Lamson’s.”
“ Such a palace of a house!” the
Judge sneered.
“ Mark is hoping to put a new house
on the place, next year. He has had
builders over from B , but they say
the old house is beyond repair and it
would cost less to have a new one.”
** And where is the money to come
from 27’ ‘
{ ¢ Where the improved farm came
from,” said Essie, “from Mark’s indus-
try, perseverance and energy, in the
face of the hardest discouragements
ever a young man had to fight.”
“Eh!” said the Judge. * What?
What 27
.* See what he has done,” said Essie,
i still in an even, quiet tone that carried
| conviction far more than an excited
| one. “Eight years ago when he was
| but a boy, he put his shoulder to the
| wheel and took his playtime between |
{school hours to weed and clear away
‘stones. Nobody helped him. Ie wag
i ridiculed, sneered at and discouraged
on all sides, He had the poorest farm
in the place, and he has made it one of
| the best. He has put every spare dol-
; lar into books on agrieniture, improved
machines, good stock.
four men at work for him. good horses,
good cattle, good poultry, and he will
| have a good honse. Papa, do you not
think it will be a pity to have the new
house in the care of Mrs. Lamson, to
ruin as'she has the old one? Qut-doors
the management is all left to Mark,
and see'what he has done. Buta man
cannot mc kea homecomfortable alone: |
he needs a wife.”
“ Well,” said the Judge. “let him
have one, but not my child.”
“Still he loves me,” said Essie, “and
I'love him !”
and the fact that Essie was the only
He has now |
“ Pshaw!” said the Judge, and
marched out of the house.
But proud as he was, ‘he was just,
and he loved Essie. He hadlet preju-
dice influence him against Mark all
his life ; now he took pains to find out
bow much of his dislike was well foun-
ded. Grudgingly enough was the ver-
dict given in Mark’s tavor. Mayvsville
did not willingly acknowledge it had
been wrong in its estimate, and shoul
dered upon Mark all the faults of his
ancestors. But the facts were strong,
and Judge Lennox found himself con-
fronted by them. Slowly, for he was
not easily convinced, he took respect
into the place of contempt, and after a
month of patient _investigation, sent
for Mark.
The interview was a frank, manly
one, the old gentleman not being given
to half hesrted measures of any kind.
He heartily commended the young man
who had struggled so nobly.
“When your new houseis finished,”
he said, “I will let my Essie be your
wife. A man who can make his way
against wind and tide as you have
done, deserves a happy home.”
The Judge being a power in Mays-
ville public opinion veered round, “as
soon as the engagement was announ-
ced.
The new house being completed.
Essie became housekeeper, Mrs. Lam-
son gladly resigning her feeble reign.
And under the new regime it was won-
derful to see how even the old people
smartened up. They had no chronic
objection to cleanliness, if someone
else did the necessary work , and with
Mark and Essie to govern and direct,
the Lamson household so lost its old
name, that you could scarcely find to-
day in Maysville one voice to repeat
the old saying that “Mark Lamson
came of bad stock.”—The Ledger.
Some Words About Coffee.
Grind Your Own—Can Buy it Nicely Roasted—
Ong-Third Mocha, Two Thirds Java.
From Harper's Bazar.
Much has been written and printed
concerning coffee. Cook books all con-
tain recipes for preparing it in different
ways. Every housekeeper considers
that coffee is something that everybody
can make, and therefore she takes no
particular pains to make it, It is a fact
that on the breakfast table of nine out
of ten families, where nice cooking in
other respects is the rule, the coffee will
be watery stuff, tasting strong of chic-
cory, or else so black and thick as to be
undrinkable by whoever is used to the
better-made article.
In the city the vast majority of house-
wives buy ground coffee at corner gro-
ceries. I think the same rule is good
in the country, for most country stores
have their coffee grinder, The grocery-
man’s profit is so large on coffee that of
course it pays him well to grind it.
And he can, in grinding, adulterate it
to so great an extent that he would pre-
fer to sell his ‘real Java” and ‘real
Mocha’ ground, even if he had to sell
at a less price than in the bean. The
fact that the price is the same, ground
or unground, never seems to show peo-
ple plainly how well it would pay them
to grind their own coffee. They may be
sure the groceryman does not do it for
love.
It is not easy to roast coffee, for it re-
quires much close watching, patience,
and experience to bring it just to the
proper shade, not burnt, nor yet ton
light, neither too iittle or too much,
but just right. Itcan be bought f.esh-
ly and perfectly roasted in the larger
grocery houses of good repate. It is
best to buy not more than two pounds
of this at a time, and it should be kept
closely covered until the last grain is
used. I bave always found that one-
third Mocha and two third Java make
a good combination. This costs about
thirty-two cents per pound at the larger
down town houses.
A coffee grinder—a good one--is
worth fifty cents. The comfort of the
good coffee it gives you is worth far
more. It is true Bridget will not grind
it unless con.peiled, if she hasn’t any
coffee but unground to use; but 1t
should be a case of “needs must.” If
she is allowed to grind it over night for
ase in the morning, it should be put in-
to a tightly covered vessel until used.
I use a coffee-cup full,ground, for a
family of five. This makes a pound
last about a week. Put in an egg shell,
and fill the pot about a third full of
cold water. When it boils hard, add
boiling water to the quantity you wish
to make. When that boils up once,
put in a dash of cold water, and
cover the coffee pot with a folded
towel, and set on the back part of the
stove until you wish to use it. If you
pour it into a silver urn, scald the urn
first. that the cotfee may not be chilled.
Whoever is used to drinking good cof-
fee, bought and made in this way, will
never be content with ‘‘grocers’ coffee’
again. Always buy a grinder to screw
against the wall. It saves time, temper
and is at hand when it is wanted.
National Greetings. +
“How can you ?”’ That's Swedish.
“How do you fare ?”” That Dutch.
“How do you stand ?”’ That’s Italian.
“Go with God, senor,” That's Span-
jis
lis
“How do you live on?” That's Rus-
| sian.
“How do you perspire?’ That's
| Egyptian.
“How do you have yourself.” That's
! Polish.
| “How do you find yourself?” That's
| German.
| “Thank God, how are you ?”’ That's
i Arabian.
: That’s Persian.
| French.
| “How do you do?” That's English
. and American.
“Be under the guard of Goa.” That's
{ the Ottoman’s.
“How is your stomach?” Have you
; eatén’ your rice?” ‘That's Chinese.—
. Harrisburg Telegram.
Le ———————
Reporters May Get In.
oe
ALBANY, January 27. —Stein’s bill,
allowing the presence ‘of reporters at
electrocutions, was passed by the as sem-
bly.
“May thy shadow never grow less.” |
“How do you carry yourself?” That's |
Baby a Joy and a Trouble.
The Good Definition of People Competing for a
Two- Guinea Prize.
London Ti¢-Bits has just awarded a
two-guinea prize for “The Best Defini-
tion of a Baby.” The prize was won by
Miss Nellie Braidwood of Girvan, Eng-
land; who sent ir this answer!
“A tiny feather from the wing of love
dropped into the sacred lap of woman-
hood.” =
The following is a selection from some
of the best definitions submitted :
The bachelor’s horror,?the mother’s
treasure, and the despotic tyrant of the
most republican household.
finger of care.
The morning caller, noonday crawler,
midnight brawier.
The magic spell by which the gods
transform a house into home.
A miniature atlas that bears the whole
world of wedded joys and cares on ils
little shoulders.
Father’s rival in mother’s love.
A stranger with unspeakable cheek,
that enters a house without a stitch to
his back, and is received with open arms
by everyone.
The sapling of the tree from which
will be built the bullwarks of our na-
tion’s future greatness.
A bursting bud on the tree of life.
The only precious possession that nev-
excites envy.
A bold asserter of the rights of free
speech.
The best developer of the most beauti-
ful part of a woman’s nature, ‘unsel-
fishness. ”
A tiny useless mortal, but without
which the world would soon be at a
standstill,
The latest edition of humanity, of
which every couple think they possess
the finest copy,
A native of all countries, who speaks
the language of none.
An invention for keeping people
awake at night.
A mite of a thing that requires a
mighty lot of attention,
A diminutive specimen of perserve
humanity that could scarcely be endur-
ed if he belonged to someone else; but
being our own, is a never-failing treas-
ury of delight.
A man or woman making a start in
life.
The unconscious mediator between
father and mother, and the focus of their
hearts.
A daylight charmer and a midnight
alarmer.
writhe and scream, filled with suction
ic alarm to regulate supply.
A troublesome compendium of great
possibilities.
A quaint little craft called innocence,
laden with simplicity and love.
A wee little specimen of humanity,
whose winsome smile makes a good man
think of the angels.
The sunbeam in the house that drives
dull care away.
A curious bud of uncertain blossom.
A thing everybody thinks there is a
great deal too much fuss about unless it
is their own.
A thing we are expected to kiss, and
look as if we enjoyed it.
happy.
There is only one perfect specimen of
a baby in existence, and every mother is
the happy possessor of it.
The smartest little craft afloat in
home’s delightful bay.
tail.
A little stranger, with a free pass to
| the heart’s best affections.
male labor.
The pulp from which the leaves of
life's book are made.
A padlock on the chain of love.
A soft bundle of love and trouble
which we cannot do without.
It’s a sweet and tiny treasure.
A torment and a tease
It’s an autocrat, an anarchist,
| Two awful things to please.
| It’s a rest and peace disturber.
With little laughing ways.
It’s a wailing human night alarm,
And terror of your days.
A necessity—in order to keep up the
supply of Record readers of the future,
i A rose with all its sweetest lcaves yet
i folded. :
The sweetest thing God ever madeand
| forgot to give wings to.
That which increases the
toil, decreases the father’s cash, and
serves as an alarm clock to the neigh-
| bors.
| A pleasure to two, a nuisance to every |
{ other body and a necessity to the world,
An inhabitant of Lapland.
! A king who, though his sinews are
| only velvet, rules with a rod of iron,
| making strong men quail before him
[aod women to answer. and attend to
| every call.
| A key that opens the hearts of all
| elasses, rich and poor, in all countries.
That which makes home happier,love
| stronger, patience greater, hands busier,
| nights longer, days shorter, purses light-
!'er, clothes shabbier, the past forgotten,
[ tha future brighter.
! “The prince of Wails.
| The delightful tyrant who rules the
| joys, and the best pledge of matrimo-
| nial felicity,
|
| by wetting a sponge and sprinkling it
| with ‘hemp, grass, canary and other |
i seeds. The sponge should be refreshed
| with water daily, so as to be kept moist. |
| In a few days the seeds will germinate,
will’ s06n be covered |
and the sponge
| with messes of green foliage.
| wise men, then Dr. Bull, of Cough Syr-
{up fame, must have been one of the
greatest of philosophers.
i arcu
|
General Grant will
probably
| his death than he ever did in his life-
| time. The memories he prepared with
| his dying tands bave already netted to
i hls widow and children $414,855,28,
ra n——————
| ———-Fora general family cathartic we
' confidently recommend Hood's Pills,
They ¢hould be in every home medicine
chest.
A human flower untouched by the
About 22 inches of coo and wriggle, |
testing apparatus for milk, and automat- |
The one thing needful to make a home !
A mile of humanity that will ery no |
harder if a pin is stuck into him than he
will if the cat won’t let him pull her!
The most extensive employer of fe-
mother’s |
home, the niother's darling and father’s |
| pride, the cause of a thousand innocent |
Another pretty ornament is made |
-If it is true that philosophers are |
make more money for his family after |
The Proposed Pacific Cables.
From the New York Times.
appropriation given to it by congress at
a cable route from California to Hawaii
has yielded good results. The Albatross
undoubedly found obstacles in her route
the generally parallel course which she
bad taken a score of miles further south,
about fifteen years before. In one place
noted by the Albatross which gave 800
fathoms greater depth than the sound-
ings of 2,400 on each side of it. At an-
fathoms was found, showing that a
mountain of that height had been crossed
In a third place an elevation twice as
high was encountered, so that it rose to
within 1,200 fathoms of the surface.
Thus we have irregularities of depth
ing at from 1,200 fathoms to = 3,200.
It is also possible that more frequent
soundings would have revealed both
deeper and shallower places.
Still, the general results seem to show
an improvement over those of the Tus-
carora. That vessel had crossed a great
submarine mountain which rose to with
in 800 fathoms of the surface. while on
either side of it the depth was about 2,-
700 fathoms, Besides, it is clear that,
while as favorable levels as those of the
Atlantic cannot be hoped for between
San Francisco and Honolulu, there are
no continuous ridges of too formidable a
character. the elevations indicating in-
dividual peaks. There are also no
gullys so deep as to endanger the success
of a telegraph wire, whereas Asiatic side
of the Pacific there exists for a long dis-
tance a depression so deep that bottom
was not reached in the soundings under-
taken by our naval officers. The wire
i in that region broke after more than
4,600 fathoms had been run out, indica-
ting a depth of upward of five miles.
{ There is a very favorable starting place
: for a cable near Montercy, a little south
of San Francisco. It might turn out
| that a survey beginning norih of the lat-
| ter point would find fewer obstacles,
justifying the greater length of wire
| thus needed. We have, .in fact, the
| whole coast of California and Oregon
| from which to choose a point of depar-
ture, or could go in the other direction
, as far as San Diego.
| Whether any private enterprize will
find encouragement enough in the in-
| vestigations of the Albatross for under-
taking to lay a cable to Honolulu does
not appear, The Fifty-first congress,
with all its lavishness, would not grant
a subsidy of $3,000,000 to such a pro-
‘ject when brought before it. The sen-
ate voted that sum, but the house by a
| very great majority refused to concur or
| even to vote $2,250,000, conditioned on
| Hawaii’s supplying the remainder.
| Perhaps the final solution of the prob-
, lem will be to make Hawaii. instead of
| the terminus of a cable, only 8 way sta-
| tion in a trans-Pacific route. But that,
| while promising a far greater income,
| would also be a far more expensive un-
| dertaking and would not specially be-
'long to our government, which has not |
| only no possessions on the Asiatic: coast
(or Australia, but acne in Polynesia.
| There was a vague idea connected with
the project in the last congress that Ha-
| Wail might one day be ours, or perhaps,
rather, that we ought to take steps to
| prevent other nations from seizing it.
{ Still, having a<uitable naval force sta-
tioned there would be a better safe-guard
| against such a danger than laying a ca-
ble, while, if hastily and unlawfully
seized, the 1slands could be reseized at
leisure. Great Britain has an interest
in subsidizing a Pacific cable, since 1t
would connect such possessions of hers
as British Columbia and the Fiji Islands
with New Zealand or Australia; yet
. she has not thus far siarted even a pre-
| liminary line from Vancouver to Hono-
lulu. However, the work assigned to
our navy department has been done,and
its results must prove usetul to those
| who may be interested in this enter-
prise.
Bt a aT,
Story of a Ring.
ii.»
4 Broken Engagement Has a Very Fishy Ending.
From the Toronto Star.
[ “When I wus a young man,” said
| the irrepressible B., “I was employed
{ in a large house in the city, and, as us-
I ual with persons of myage, I fell in love
i with a young lady, and in due.course of
| time was engaged. About two months
| before our marriage was to take place I
{ was suddenly sent to Australia on very
in portant business, occasioned by the
death of one of the firm in that country,
I'T took a hasty and affectionate leave of
{ my intended, with the promise to write
to each other often. I was detained
somewhat longer than I expected, but
| just before I sailed for home [ bought a
handsome and valuable cng, intended
it as a ‘coming home’ present for my
| sweetheart.
| {As I was nearing theshore and read-
[dg the paper which the "pilot had
| brought on board, curiously enough my
eye felt on the ‘marriages,’ and there I
saw announcement of her marriage with
another, a fellow I knew very well, too,
which s0 enraged me that in my passion
I threw the ring overboard.
“A few days afterward I was dining
ab this very hotel ; fish was served up,
{and in eating it I bit off something bard
(and what do you suppose it was?”
“The diamond ring!’ exclaimed sev-
eral,
“No," said the merry Bodkins, pre-
serving the same gravity, “it was a fish-
bone.” i
Ea
Married His Cousin.
Levi Benson, of Huntingdon, has se-
‘cured a wife after extraordinary efforts,
The bride is his cousin, Emma Benson,
fifteen yeurs old. Her father objbcted
| to the match and’ the couple eloped,
walking 110 miles to Middletown, Dan-
pbin county, where they worked until
they earned their fare to New Jersey.
Alfter being wnited * by a clergyman,
they returned to their neighborhood
and after showing their marriage certi-
ficate all was forgiven,
o————t——————
Dr. Graves Will Hardly Hang.
DENVER, | CoL., Jan. 29.—The su-
preme court this morning granted a
stupersedens in the Graves case, Dr,
Graves will be released on bail.
s
he navy depar’t’s expenditure of the
the last session for making sounding on ,
which she surveyed, as her predecessor,
‘the Tuscarora, had also found them in |
a ravine in the bottom of the sea was |
other point a sudden shallowing of 700
apart from those at the coasts, vary-
i The World of Women.
_ Stylishly clad women wear jaunty
Jackets of dark Egyptian blue, with rus-
sett tinted ornamental cords and vest.
Luncheon cloths show a bevy of but-
terflies, in washing silks, hovering about
the borders und in the corners of the
snowy damask.
Patrician features admit the adoption
of a coiffure, which shows a part in the
middle of the head with waved tresses
upon each side of the face.
A dainty theatre waist of rose tinted
silk is finished with sleeves of dotted
chiffon, and a deep fringe falling over
, the bodice and about the hips.
Of the 120 women who have entered
their names on the British Register as
duly qualified medical pro ectitioners,
| thirty-seven are practicing in London.
| Bishop sleeves, although they are no.
longer perched high upon the shoulder,
| continue to grow in fullness, this being
allowed to fall over the close cuff into
which it is gathered.
| A. perfect shower of ribbonloops and
|
|
ends falls over the back drapery of the
fashionable gown. We now buy ribbon.
. by the bolt when it is to be used as a
{ dress decoration.
Lower and lower slips the coil of hair-
{ at the back of the head. It is neither a
| Greek knot nor a cascade of curls, but a
demure looking braid which clings
closely to the well groomed locks.
| Miss Braddon, the novelist, has one
great hobby —the collection of old coins.
She has a series of magnificent cabinets
of these at her home in Richmond, near
London, and one room is known as the
plate room, because it is hung round
with china plates.
Mrs. Gladstone is said to be hardly
inferior to ber husband in energy and
industry. She has always been inter-
ested in charitable and church work and
politics, and has at the same time main-
tained close watch with her household
affairs and her children.
White veils continue to adorn dark
and even all black hats. There is one
thing about this veiling which com-
mends it to favor, and that is the cun-
ning with which 1t hides complexion
blemishes, doing it to, in a way to
pas without acting as a mask for the
ace.
Mrs. Grover Cleveland uses plain,
rough finished linen paper, and a seal of
white wax. Pauline Hall uses pretty
stationery and Helen Dauvray- Ward
writes on gray paper, with a ragged
edge. Ada Rehan uses dark blue paper
with her monogram and address in
white or gold.
Madame Constans, wife of the French
Minister of the Interior, has had confer-
red upon her, by the Sultan of Turkey,
the Cross of Commander of the Order of
Chefakat, founded by Abdul Hamid IT.,
and reserved exclusively for women.
Of this order Madame Carnot und Ma-
dame and Mlle. de Frdyeinet are also
members.
Each day the chapeau grows less
aggressive in size, the large hats being
reserved for carriage toilettes. Kor
swell “at homes” and the promenade
there is the nobby plaque or platter hat.
This droeps just {ar enought over the
face for the fair one to wear her veil in
becoming fushion. Sensible women
have adopted for theatre wear the toque,
while Tyrolean and turban go along
with traveling and shopping gown.
Salt, common table salt, well rubbed
into the roots of the hair, or dusted into
a night cap worn over the hair, will pre-
vent its premature failling out, and
may absorb some. of the “excessive oili-
ness.” Some magnificent heads of hair
were preserved to old age by women of
a half century ago, who wore nighteaps.
They filled the pretty caps each morn-
ing with salt, hanging it up by the
strings, and shaking it out every night.
Enough was retained as a white dust
within the cap to be’ thought sufficient
to preserve the hair.
In renovating garments for the little
folks the coming spring, borax and wa-
ter will be found & magical agent. Tt
is well when washing your goods to give
each part the same kind of treatment, as
water is apt to fade even the best of all
wool goods. A first-class fabric careful-
ly washed will come out as good as new.
one mistake and a very common one, is
to allow the material too get too dry.
this may be avoided by taking one piece
at a time, and by this method the first
is ready for pressing by the time the
last is hung out on the line.
One of the most decorative features
about the wardrobe of the small woman
is her aprons. They ‘range from the
daintiestof plain but exquisitely fine
mulls to the most elaborate bits of fin-
ery, A preferred mode has a full,
round skirt, which fall to the hem of
the frock. This is trimmed with a ruf-
fle of lace, Hamburg or French work.
This skirt is joined to a body fitting the
form in straight lines at the sides and
cut out back and front in a V or square
half way to the waist line, a centre
piece front and back reaching to this
point. Bretelles of lace cross the shoul-
ders, and a {rill about the arms-eye
complete the garment.
An exceedingly pretty mode for a
tiny tot may be developed in chambray,
cambrie, ginghan, lawn, seersucker or
percale. It Is made with 2 pompadour
yuke back and front. The long skirt,
| which quaintly dangles about the = heels
of the youngster is gathered at the top
joined to the short baby waist. The
sleeves are shirred: both top and bottom
1 shirt sleeve style, The narrow wrist-
bands may be of lace or hamburg inser-
tion, the trill at the throat, of course,
watching this trimming. Many of
these summer gowns will be banded
about the waist with a ribbon two or
three inches in width, loops and ends
failing to the hem of the frock.
Mrs. Jacksen says in her memoirs of
her husband, General “Stonewail”
Jackson, that whenever she visited the
! General in camp he “spent all of his
{ leisure time playing with their baby.”
| Anew and charming use for filmy
. Ince and vapory chiffon is found in the-
"shoulder jabot. The material of which
{it is made must, of course, match the
| fall or bertha edging the low cut bodice.
These jabots are so arranged that they
taper toa point both back and front.
Crossing the snowy neck they are fas-
tened te the edpe of the waist. Nest
ling in this oddly placed garniture may
be seen diamond-winged butterflies, de-
licate natural blooms and loops of rib-
pon.