Bellefonte, Pa.
MEMORIES.
,» Feb. 12, 1892,
Say, Pete, do you remember, in them happy
days of yore.
When me and you was workin’-in old Stubbs’s
ros'ry store.
A-chewin’ Stubbs’s apples, nuts ’n’ raisins all
the day,
An’ kep’ poor Bill a-wonderin’ why the bizness
didn’t pay ?
'N’ how our dads they lectured us for perpe-
tratin’ crime.
A-playin’ penny ante in th, church at sermon
time ?
'N’ how we loved Sal Peterby, as lived ter
Hickeoryville.
’N’ how we punched each other's heads, 'n
fit as tho’ ter kill.
- Becuz Sal bowed to me one day, ’n’ wouldn’t
bow ter you.
’N’ nex’ day smiled sosweet on you, 'n’ cut me
dead in two ? :
'N’ how she jilted both on us, ’'n’ married
Silas Prime.
Becuz we penny anted in the church at ser.
mon time ? :
Haw, haw! Ye do? Yer got it all stored deep
down in your heart,
3
’N’ from no single mem’ry ofthem days gone :
by ye'd part?
Waal, Pete, I'm glad ter hear ye say those
words what you has spoke. :
’N’ jest ter prove your mem'ry’s good, 'n’ yain’t
a tryin’ ter joke. :
Jest shell out that there dollar, Pete, 'n’ like-
like that there dim,
Ye've owed me sence we played that last
small game at sermon time !
—John Kendrick Bangs, in Harper's Week'y.
A MODERN GHOST.
The Story of John Lindsay's Wish and Its Un=
pleasant Gratification.
© Mr. and Mrs. John Lindsay sat to-
gether oue winter evening in their cosy
sitting room in their pleasart little
house at Melrose Highlande.
. “Ishould not be afraid of a ghost if
I should sce a live one,” said John put-
ting down his evening paper.
* Why, ghosts never are alive, are
they ?”’ asked his wife.
“Well, that depends,” answered
John : “here is an account of a meet-
ing of the Psychical Society.” He
rattled his vewspaper. “It seems
S107 11s thet modern ghosts are pretty
“lively if not exactly alive. They don't
go around with sheets over their heads
and moan nowadays like old fashioned
ghosts. They seem to have tasted of
the spirit of progress of the age.”
Dora was knitting a silk sock for her
husband, and she asked him to hold up
his slipper to let her judge the length
of his foot.
“I should really like to see a ghost,”
said John, obeying his wife.
As he spoke, there was a loud ring-
ing of the front door bell. It was one
of the clapper bells with a gong at-
tached to the inside of the door, and
the ringing of this bell, twice repeated,
was annoying.
“I wish folks would'nt break the
door down,” growled John, rising to
go toil, “and I don’t see why it is al-
ways the pirl’s night out.” He went
through the parlor, which was dimly
lighted, and into the bright hall. Dora
came out into the back of the hall
where she could hear who came, yet be
out of sight behind the jog of the wall
where the hall wall made room for the
sitting room door.
“Good evening,” she heard John
say civilly.
“Is Mrs. Linasay at home?’ asked
a strange voice—a man’s voice.
“Yes,” answered John His ques.
tioning tone, his manner of waiting, in-
dicated that he wished to know the
stranger’s business.
“Ttis a bitter cold night,” said the
stranger. “lt is a cold winter we are
having.’
“Will you step it?” said John.
Dora drew back into the sitting room.
She heard her husband close the frout
door, open the register in the hall, and
give the visitor a chair. Now this isa
wide, roomy place, in the modern fash
ion, more of a reception room than
merely an entrance ; but Dora did not
like to have her husband seat there a
visitor who had inquired for her. Be-
sides, she wanted to see who it was. So
she went out to the hall through the
parlor and inquired, just before she
stepped into the hall:
“ Who was it came, John 2,’
Then seeing the visitor sitting by the
register she said :
“Oh, excuse me; I'm sure I hope
you will excuse me.”
She was very much embarassed by
her own ruse, for neither the stranger
nor her husband even glanced at her.
and Dora saw that her husband was
paler than she had ever seen him. His
gaze was fixed intently upon the stran-
ger. Dora could see nothing alarming
in their visitor. He was a middlejaged
man, stout and tall, with dark hair
sprinkled with gray. He wore a pair
of sealskin gloves. The rest of his out-
fit locked comfortable and suitable for
a sharp winter evening. The sealskin
gloves looked unusually large. Dora
stared at them with some curiosity as
she advanced.
“ Did you wish to see me, sir?” she
asked.
The stranger looked at her.
“Yes, he said, “if you are Mrs.
Lindsay.”
“1 am,” said Dora, with dignity,
“Will you ask your husband to step
into some room out of hearing, My
business is with you alone.”
“My business is always my hus
band’s. No one can have any business
with me which is not his,” said Dora,
moving to John's side, her nerves be-
gininning to shiver at the visitor's man:
ner.
“I prefer to step out of hearing,
Dora,” said John coldly, glancing at
her now with an expression which both
terrified and angered ber, it was so un-
like him. Pride and fear etruggled
within her for an instant. then pride
won,
“Very well,” she said. “Go, if you
wish, John.”, He did not start.
“You perceive that he can not,” said
the visitor. “I hypnotized him as he
opened the door, and he is under: the
control of my will. I gave you a com-
plete test at once of my power. You
know that of his own will your hus-
band would not leave you under these
circumstances. Ie says he prefers to
go because of my power.”
“Iam glad he is hypnotized, then,
said Dora with feeling. She slipped
her hand into John’s. “It makes me
love you more to know that you will
whispered.
“Don’t whisper to me !”” said John
Lindsay sharply in return.
Dora laughed.
“Now, how much do you want, or
do you want us to get up an exhibition
for you or something? Mr. —Mr.—,”
she hesitated.
** My name is Connellton,” said the
stranger.” “No, Ido not want to get
up an exhibition. I am a ghost. I
vitation from your husband.
he should like to see a ghost. This is
a pleasant house you have here. I
should like tolook it over. In fact, I
am house hunting and I like this en-
trance. I think this house would suit
me to haunt. I think a ghost ought
to be very particular about the sort of
a house he hauats.”
“This house is not for sale,” said
{ Dora. “Itis our own. We mean to
keep it.”
{ “You will please show me over the
{ house,” said Mr. Connellton to John
Lindsay, with a courteous wave of the
hand to Mrs. Lindsay.
“Certainly, Mr. Connellton® Dora,
my dear, come with us,” said Johan.
Dora suddenly threw her arms about
him and kissed him. 1
“John, darling,” shecried, “do throw
off this dreadful spell and send this hor
rid man away. I don’t believe he is a
ghost at all, and, anyway, we don’t
want him going all over our house,
Send him away!” She kissed John
again, but his lips gave no response.
He stalked up the stairs followed by
Counellton, and there was nothing for
Dora to do bat to follow. Over the
pretty house they went from room Lo
room—Dora’s bedroom, her sewing
room, the guest chamber, all of the
closets, through the bathroom, up into
the attic and down again went the
three, where outside the wild winter
wind was making the pine trees moan
and bend; dow to the front hall again
ark through the parlor into the cosy
sitting room. It scemed to Dora half
a lifetime since half an hour ago when
ghe and John, sat there so cosy and
happy and not afraid. :
Connellion spoke for the first time
during their trip of inspection. ** This
is a pleasant room,” he said.
“ Very,” said John Lindsay.
“ Youare happy here evenings ?’’
“Very,” said John again, and grin-
ned in such a foolish mannes that Dora
felt ashamed of him before Connelton.
“How happy are you? Dancing
happy ? jigging happy ?”” asked Connell-
ton. “If so, you may dance a jig.”
“Ob, Mr. Connellton, he can’t jig!”
cried Dora, in distress; but John
could and did. He jigged about the
room for five minutes, while Dora
stood beside the portiere, fairly faint
between fright &t his doing it at all and
amusement at the ridiculousness of his
antics. Mr. Connellton stood on the
white goatskin rug before the fire and
laughed heartily, as might be expected
of a hypnotizing ghost.
“I haven't had so much fun since I
was on earth the first titne,”” he said at
last. “We will now look at the kitch-
en and dining room and cellar and in-
spect the f(urnace.” So the journey
over the house was contiouedin silence,
except for short uttrances of approval
on the part ot Mr. Connellton, and an
exclamation of annoyance from Dora
when he gravely broke off a large frag-
ment from the side ot a tresh loaf of
cake in her pantry and more gravely
ate it. scattering crumbs as he went.
“We will go upstairs again,” said
Connellton when'they came back to the
sitting room. ‘I see from the arrange-
ment of this house there must be a good
gized bedroom over the dining room
which I have not seen. We will look
at that” John led tie way and Dura
followed him.
“This is a very pleasant room,” said
Connellton when they reached it and
John had liv the gas, “I think I will
occupy this permanently. I am tired
and will goto bed at once.” He sat
down on u low chair near the register.
John Lindsay moved mechanically
forward to lower the gas, which was
blazing too high. By a lucky acci-
dent he awkwardly knocked off the
glass globe, and in the attempt to save
it trom falling to the floor thrust his
hand into the flame. The gas instant.
ly neutralized the peculiar form of hyp-
notism which had been exerted over
him, and in full possessson of all his
faculties John Lindsay turned upon
the intruder into his home.
“You miserable ghost of a hypno-
tizer,” said he, “I see through you!”
Clear out of my house or I'll break
every cartilage in your backboneless
body I"
He advanced toward Conneliton, who
shrank and shrank as he approached,
There was scarcely a figure the siz of a
13 year old boy remaining in the low
chairwhen John Lindsay stood over
it with clenched fists, Only the seal-
skin gloves remained—as large as ever!
“Why did you come here ?. What
bnsiness have you here?’ thundered
Lindsay.” :
“ You said you should really like to
see a real live ghost,” whimpered Con-
nellton, “so [ came in. I was a suc-
cess hypuotizer before I became a ghost,
80 I thonght I would try it on you.”
“With too good success,” said Dora,
coming bravely forward. **Now, Mr.
Connellton, I waut to know if you are
always in this—this shape ? TI thought
ghosts can make themselves invisible
if they try 2”
»'They can.
nellton.
“Well. I'll tell you what we will do
for you,” said Dora, “for really it is
too cold weather to turn even a ghost
out of doors ; if you will make your-
self invisible you can have the use of
this room free until spring. You don’t
mind renting out a room do you John,
s0 long as we don’t get any pay for it.”
I can,” answered Con:
juct like your generous heart to offer to
| keep Connellton, but we can’t atford to
doit. Now be off with you.
not go of your own free will,” she
merely looked in in response to an in- |
He said |
“Yes I do Dora,” said Lindsay. “It’s |
So Connellton arose ana his lessened
figure crept dejectedly down stairs and
out of the house.
! Just before he opened the front door,
he gave Mrs. Lindsay one of the large
| sealskin gloves. He threw it down
‘ather feet. It's a trophy?’ he said
mournfully. “Keep it for my sake.
Dora Lindsay put a big bow on it
and tied it round the middle with a
piece of ribbon, and keeps it over one
corner of the mirror in the dining room
chamber as a souvenir.—Bostiu Trans-
cripe.
How Potatoes May Be Palaitably Pre-
pared.
A Few Hints to the Careful Housekeeper.
There is a, common fiction, which has
done uncommon harm, to the effect that
any cook can cook a potato. The pota-
to is a fleld for the artist. To boil a po-
tatoe is by no means so easy as the gen-
eral public seems to think. A plan
known to work satisfactorily with many
varieties of potatoes is to take fresh wa-
ter, heat it to boiling then immerse the
pared potatoes or the unpared and care-
fully washed potatoes, sprinkle a pinch
of salt on them, and bring the water,
which will be cooled by their cold en-
trance, to boiling and boil until the po-
tatoes are tender.
From 15 minutes to a half hour will
be required, according to size of potatoes
When they are done (which is easily as-
certained by pricking with a silver or
plated fork) drain off all the water and
take the dish containing the potatoes to
the door, shake it up and down for a
minute, then put it on the coolest part
of the stove and letit stay for a few
minutes more. The exact number of
minutes This is done to dry of the po-
tatoes. If their be any meal in a pota-
toe this treatment will bring it out.
COLD POTATOES CUT UP,
Nothing can be put to more appetiz-
ing uses than a cold-boiled potatoe, ac-
cording to the New York Sun. Cut
the remnants of potatoes in small slices
and dispose them on a hot skillet greas-
ed first with lard and then with a little
butter, and you will have sauted pota-
toes. The only thing necessary to re-
member in this simple operation is that
nothing can brown unless it bas a
greasy hot surface to brown it. If you
want crisp, golden brown potatoes you
must not put too many in the skiliet.
Salt and pepper and there you are!
Dripping may be used.
Chop the cold potato into dice, fry in
the same way with a little more butter
and some shallots and parsley chopped
fine, mixed with the potato, and you
have pctatoes lyonnaise.
They are nice fried on the griddle.
Some cooks dip the round slices of cold
potato in egg (yelk and white beaten
together) and then in fine hread crumbs
before they fry on the griddle in lard
and butter. These are very dainty and
good. It is advisable to fry until they
are surely tender within. Test with a
straw.
MINCED POTATOES,
Potato minced and then flavored with
saltand peper, moistened with a little
cream or milk and melted butter heated
1n a skillet and then left to brown fora
few minutes (five or ten,) makes brown-
ed hush. An easier way to brown the
hash isto heat it in a sauce-pan and
then turn it into the buttered skillet or
any buttered pan. Itcan be browned
on top of the stove or in the oven.
This 1s a delicious dish and not difficult
top prepare. The hash must not be
swimming in milk, but simply be moist-
ened ; it is hash, not stew. Onions or
parsley may be added to taste, and some
people like the flavor of celery salt in
the hash.
SLICED AND BAKED.
Another toothsome prepartion of cold
potatoes is to slice them in thick slices
orcut them in long quarters, dip them
in melted butter that has been salted
and prepared ; then dip them flour and
bake them in the oven for ten or fifteen
minutes. A hot oven is required.
A SIMPLE METHOD OF MASHING.
¢ The simplest form of mashed potatoes
is made by taking hot boiled potatoes,
mashing and mingling them with cream
and butter until the muss assumes the
right consistency, which varies with the
individual taste. Then salt and pepper,
and the dishis ready and by no means
to be derided. Sometimes this mash is
mashed with a machine, of which there
are many good ones in the market, and
any one of them will make home happy
for from 25 centsto $1. Almost always
the texture is improved by whipping
the mash with an egg-beater. An air of
importance may be given to this simple
dish by merely brushing the top with
fine bread, or drops of melted butter.
POTATO CROQUETS.
To make a perfect potato croquette
you must have your mixture as moist ag
an artist “can handle—which is about
three times as moist as the ordinary
cook can manage, which, again, is why
the ordinary cook’s croquettes are a mor-
tification to the soul. Mix your hot-
mashed potato with thick cream, or
with milk and melted butter, until it is
very soft. Tt will stiffen after it gets
cold ; then beat in the white of an egg
to a pint of the potato mash, season to
taste, and if you like, mix in some chop-
ped shallots. The dots of green look
very pretty.
Now, roll outa pint of fine bread
crumbs on your rolling-board. Spread a
ful of your mash on the crumbs. With
a slight and quick motion of your hand
roll your mash into the shape that you
prefer, keeping the moist potato protect-
ed by the bread crumbs all the while.
Have ready one egg beaten up light,
white and yelk together. With a small
brush (you can get one for from 10 to 25
cents) or a bit of soft paper, brush the
croquette over with egg, then roll it
again with bread crumbs. Last of all,
to cover. There are many kinds of fry-
ing kettles, but none is necessary al-
though all are convenient. All you
need 1s a kettle (of any kind) and deep
fat, a wire ladle—you can manage with
a spoon—and a platter or pan lined with
that coarse brown paper used for wrap-
ping by butchers and grocers. This is
the difference between an unwholesome
greasy dish and a wholesome dainty, ar-
| tistic one.
y BAKED POTATOES.
To bake a potatc you need a steady
thin layer before you and drop a spoon- |
fry in smoking hot lard. deep enough |
todrain the croquettes and will make
ETS A LT Pr
oven, a good potato and —a punctual |
family. The imperative need for punc-
tuahty comes from the fact that baked
potatoes cannot wait. Small potatoes
take half an hour, moderate-sized pota-
toes take an hour to bake. When they
are done. They should be pricked or
cracked to allow the air to escape, plac-
ed in a hot dish on a napkin, and served
instantly. They are spoiled if they have
to stand. It isa good plan to put the
largest potatoes in first, and havea
procession of others according to size
Most cooks hustle all potatoes” into the
oven at once ; most cooks also bake in
good season (as they call it) and con-
trive to have the dish of potatoes drying
and SETHE on the back ofthe stove
fora quarter of an hour before serving
These are purely errors of judgment, bat
unfortunate. A biked potato properly
cooked and served, is a princely dish ;
why spoil it?
POTATO SALAE.
Potato salad is the simplest and eas-
test of salads. Chop an amount of pota-
toes or slice them, sprinkle a layer of
pototoes With minced onions, and a lay-
er of lard-boiled eggs if you have plenty
of eggs omit it if you have not. Make
a mayouuaise dressing and spread over
each layer of potatoes. If you wish ca-
pers and olives are added. If not, not.
It is quite a go-as-you-please salad,
and all potato salad is good, but some
potato salad is better than others. Stuf-
fed potatoes are in general meanly pota-
to puff made out of the insides of baked
potatoes, instead of out of boiled pota
toes, and then replaced in the skins,
The topsjare sometimes garnished with
egg, sometimes dusted with bread erumbs
sometimes brushed with melted butter,
and in most cases are replaced in the
oven to heat and brown before serving.
It is well to cut off one end of the pota-
to before baking, in order that it stand
in the pan after stuffing.
a re——
Fred Douglass Bays a Church.
The Building in Which He
Sixty-One Years Ago.
Hon. Fred, Douglass, ex-United
States Minister to Hayti, accompanied
by his son and grandson, the former a
lawyer, and the latter a musician, went
to Baltimore from Washington yester-
day afternoon, and, proceeding directly
from Calvert Station to the law office of
City Councilman Harry S. Cummings,
on Calvert street, concluded the pur-
chase from the Trustees of the Conten-
teal Charch of the old Dallas Street
church property.
In this real estate transfer there is a
little interesting history. Many years
ago, Fred Douglass was a devoted mem-
ber of the congregation which worship.
ped in the building which he yesterday
purchased for $2,200. It was in this
church that he was converted sixty-one
years ago, and it so reminded him of
some of the happiest and most interest-
ing incidents in his life that he recently
made an offer for it.
The Centennial Church Trustees
being, at the same time very desirous of
relieving the church from debt, consid-
ered the offer favorably, and a few
weeks ago Rev. J. L. Thomas, pastor,
and Mr. Cummings, attorney for the
church, visited Washington, and there
arranged with Mr. Douglass for the
transfer. The necessary papers were
signed yesterday at Mr. Cummings’
office and the property formally turned
over to Mr. Douglass. #
It is understood that Mr. Douglass
will improve the property he has pur-
chased by the erection thereon of several
dwelling-houses, to be known as Doug-
lass Place.
Was Converted
CTT ———
Wouldn’t Call Her ‘“Lady.”
A “handle” to one’s name is often a
cheap acquisition. “The clouds may
drop down titlesand estates,” but to
the mind of a sensible American such
things are hardly worth seeking or
using. .
The late Leonard Jerome's three pret-
ty daughters, somewhat to his grief,
chose Kngiishmen for husbands, but
though be lived abroad during the late
years of his life he remained indepen-
dent and a goud American to the end.
In fact, he never acknowledged Lady
Randolph Churchill’s title and the first
visit he paia her after her marriage he
astonished the flunkey atthe door by
asking for “Mrs. Charchill.”
The cockney footman at first seemed
inclined t throw the tall, amused look-
ing American down the steps, and hold-
ing the dor half ¢p'n announced, in-
dignately, ‘Er leddyship is at 'ome,
but not to the likes of you.”
Whereupon Jerome smiled gently
reached in the doorway and by a twist
of his long strong hand on the back of
the footman’s coat collar, twirled him
round like a top.
“No, said he, tell Mrs.
Churchill that her daddy, is down here
in the parlor and wants to see her and
I’ll stand in the doorway and see how
fast your calves can carry you up those
steps -- Youths Companion.
£0
£0
An Articial Sun.
The Daily Advertiser, of Portland,
Me., says: “Mount Washington is to
| be capped with the largest electric search
| light ever made, and the highest beam
| of artificial light in the world. It can
| be easily seen from Portland, and under
, proper conditions, it can probably be
seen even from Boston. The Company
which is to be organized to carry out
the scheme will be made up of promi-
nent railroad and hotel men interested
in the future development of New
Hampshire. It is believed that this
light on the summit of Mount Wash-
ington will be such a novel and beauti-
ful spectacle that it will benefit the
State of New Hampshire, simply viewed
as an advertisement.”
The enormous growth of the city
of London is shown by the fact that its
| present population is given at 5,670,000,
| or considerably greater than that of
Paris, Berlin, Vienna and Rome com-
| bined.
. ——1T have been troubled with chronic
catarrh for years. KEly’s Cream Balm is
the only remedy among the many that
I have used that affords me relief.—E.
W. Willard, Druggist, Jolett, TTI.
Some Scientific Reasons for Total Ab-
stinence.
When proof of any stated fact in
science is to be sought we not only |
weigh in the balance the authorities for
and against with reference to number
and ability, but we also consider the
date of their utterances.
years ago, only it has not beea promul-
gated,
No more striking instance ot this ex-
ists than is found in the Qiscoveries of
science concerning the nature of alcohol
and other narcotics poisons.
They constitute what is known as
“Scientific Temperance.” In the light
of the discoveries true temperance may |
be defined as the moderate use of things
which are wholesome ; entire abstinence |
from those which are not. Science has
proven alcohol not to be a stimulent in
any true sense, but a narcotic poison.
It deadens or paralyses the brain and
nerves according to the amount taken.
All narcotic poisons have the power
of creating an ever increasing appetite
for themselves. Therefore alcohol is a
dangerous and seductive poison,
character of a substance does not depend
upon its quantity but upon its quality,” |
Richardson ; |
says the celebrated Dr.
therefore the character of alcohol in
wine, beer or cider is the same as the
character of the alcohol in stronger li-
quors, and this is why the use of the
former has, in thousands of cases, by de-
grees created an alcoholic appetite
which at last became quite beyond the
control of the victim. Because these
lighter drinks contain alcohol they are
dangerous and seductive.
Nothing is commoner than than to
hear drinking “too much’ condemned,
while moderate drinking is commended.
If those who do this understood the trae
nature of alcobol they would know that
any of it is too much, because it is the
nature of alcohol to create an appetite
for more. It is not, primarily, the weak-
ness of the drinker but the nature of the
drink that causes drunkenness.
If aleohol is a poison it cannot be a
food. Dr. H. Newell Martin, of John
Hopkins University, says of it: “Is al-
cohcl a tissue-forming food ? To this
the answer is certainly no, so far at
least as useful tissue is concerned. Al-
cohol cannot build up albuminous ma-
terial, since it contains no nitrogen, and
such material constitutes the essential
part of muscular, glandular and nervous |
tissues. Is alcohol a strengthening
food? To this the answer is aiso no.
Alcohol in small doses excites brain and
muscle, and may for a time goad them
to overwork or to work when they
should be resting, But as it nourishes
neither of them the final result is bad.
The brain and muscle are left in an in-
jured state. Any substance to be con-
sidered a food must not be injurious to
the structure or action of any organ,
otherwise it is a poison, not a food.”
“When water,” says another writer,
“comes into contact with living tissues,
they absorb it and are satisfied. Wa-
ter is a natural drink and quenches na-
tural thrust. When alcohol is brought
into contact with living tissues it 1rri-
tates them and creates thirst. For this
unnatural thirst there is no natural lim-
it.” ‘Only natural appetites have na-
tural limits,” says Dr. Felix Oswald.
“All true foods satisfy the appetites, but
it is the inherent nature of alcohol to
create an appetite for itself which can--
not be satisfied. All poison habits are
progressive.”
Much is said about curing the drink
habit of this nation by introducing the
use of light wines. There never was a
greater fallacy. It is not the naturf of
the alcoholic appetite to submit to any |
such letting down method, Drinkers
abandon the weaker liquors tor the
stronger, but are not likely to reverse
the process. And where the idea is to
supply with these wines those who are
not yet in the drink habit, the fallacy is !
equally great. The aleohol in them is
the same in its nature as that in the
stronger liquors and would, when used
freely, show in numerous cases its pro-
gressive tendency.
But the rapidity with which the crav-
ing for aleohol grows varies with the in-
dividual. Owing to the long preval-
ence of the drink habiv many individuals
inherit an appetite for alcoholic bever-
ages Those who know anything of
the law of heredity understand that in-
herited tendency is not always from im-
mediate progenitors. Every one who
drinks a glass of wine may not become :
a drunkard, but there is no one living
who can be absolutely sure, even if he
uses the lighter liquors with extreme
moderation, that he may not in time ac-
quire the appetite which it is the nature
—the treacherous nature— of the alco-
hol in them to create.
On the other hand there are thousands
of unfortunates concerning whom all
are agreed. Thera is on question in any
mind as to the extreme folly of their
using any alcoholic drink in any quan-
tity. Total abstinence is undeniably
right for them. But tha raging appe-
tite within, and the continuous tempta-
tions from without mock their poor ef-
forts. ‘Who shall save them ? Not the
moderate drinker, for he is perhaps their
greatest enemy, bacause of the market
he persists in maintaining, and beside,
he must often. in obedience to natural,
immutable law, himself take his place
in their dreary ranks. Who then shall
help them before they are past all help ?
The intelligent total abstainer. He
whose generous soul says with St. Paul:
“If meat make my brother to offend, I
will eat no meat while the world stand-
eth,” and whose instructed mind secs a
danger common to all in the use of bev-
erages, or of anything else which con-
tains in any quantity a treacherous and
seductive poison.
N. B. All school text-books on
physiology and hygiene which was en-
dorsed by the W. C. T. U. contain the
above truths.
May F. LoNELL.
Superintendent of Department of
Scientific Temperance Instructions for
Woman's Christian Temperance Union
of Pennsylvania.
——Can you eat heartily, with relish,
and without distress afterward ? If not,
we recommend to you Hood’s Sarsapa-
rilla, which creates a good appetite and
80 invigorates the stomach and bowels
that the food it properly digested and all
its nutriment assimilated.
It goes with- |
out saying that much which is truth, |
and which is to-day revealed by seienti- |
fic research, was true a number of |
The truths |
are the reasons for total abstinence. |
“The |
i ————————— a t——— i]
The World of Women.
The demi train grows longer.
Accordion skirts are still the tune.
Shaggy brimmed felt hats are worn.
Philadelphia has 600 trained nurses.
The street veil hangs to the waist line,
Silk warp crepes, plain and figured,
for evening dresses.
Black and colored hosiery having
woven polka dots.
Ombre, moire and satin ribbons of all
widths and shades,
Rough camel's hair felts for rcugh-
and-ready walking hats.
Creped wolens of exquisite fineness
i having stripes of moire.
Jetted lace edging for a flat trimming
on jet-trimmed gowns.
| Suede gloves in preference to glace,
except for traveling wear.
Corded dimity for white cotton gowns
made early in the spring.
White net veils thickly embroidered
and edged with a border.
White ground cambrics covered with
the prevailing floral designs.
Derby satin portieres that make one’s
eyes ache with their sheen.
| _ Veiling to suit the tan, gray, laven-
der, black and blue hats worn.
Narrow moire ribbon once more for
the neck and sleeves of dresses.
Mrs. Barriolhet, a florist of San Matee,
Cal, bas a collection of chrysanthe-
| mums, including 250 varieties and 18,
1 000 plants,
| Skirt opening at the side and upon
the front offers an opportunity for the
| display of the richest effects “in passe
irenteries and galloons.
.
{For spring wear the Spanish or cava-
| lier cape will be favored. It may be
| made up en suite and simply fastened at
i the throat with a bunch of ribbons.
Independent top garments in threo.
quarter lengths are frequently made of
black silk. These will furnish the most
stylish model for mid-season wear.
There is a tone which remrinds one of
| the rind of a cucumber. With this pe-
cuhar green a great deal of gold and
| white may be used with the most artis-
| tic results.
| Surplice waists continue to provide
| the dinner gown with pointed openings
| back and front. This mode is decidedly
more becoming to the average woman
| than alow cut bodice.
Almond and biscuit shades, dove and
fawn combine in charming fashion with
velvet. One of the most perfect tints in
cashmere ia a sea-gray. This bids fair
to become an especial favorite among
the grays. ;
Street princess gowns appear in all
the heavy materials, though cordury
and velveteeu are the most popular.
The bodice parts of the gowns are inter-
lined with flannel and no outer garment
is needed for warmth,
Mrs. Lydia A. Dent is the first wo-
man to be admitted to the bar in Flor-
ida. The code of ethics excluding wo-
man from the profession was almost an
iron clad one, but she not only made a
dent in it but went in with it.
Miss Olive Risley Seward, adopted.
daughter of the late William H. Seward
has a taste for newspaper work and
does considerable of it for the papers.
The knowledge she gained while acting
as private secretary to her father during
his well remembered journey around the
world is now being put to good purpose
There is no accounting for the twists
and tarns given the goods designed for
|amatinee or house jacket. Of course
the backs are tight fitting, the fronts be-
| ing reserved for fashion’s caprices. One
of white silk crepon hasa draped front
garnish with delicate crepe lisse and
caught in the oddest manner upon the
left shoulder and below the waist line
with knots of white ribbon.
In striped English cloths, rough cam-
el’s hair, Venetian goods and velvet the
new ‘‘art’”’ brown is given a chance to
secure popularity. This deep reddish
shade appears among the silks in the
silk department as well, although is is
more effective in all wool materials.
Gowns selected from this tone call for
one of the rich brown furs as a ¢rim-
ming.
Scotch colors carefully repeat their
history in the Highland clan plaids offer-
ed for misses and boys. There are no
goods in the market more wearable than
(this. They are not extremely stylish,
but may be worn for a much longer
time than materials single-toned with- |
out showing soil, a consideration of no
mean importance in the eyes of the
mothers who must plan with reference
to utility as well as looks.
Superb toilettes for half mourning are
created from heavy Bedford cord of rav-
en hued blackness. One lovely modal is
decorated upon the centre breadth of the
skirt with a big bow knot in satin
stitch, outlined and sprinkled with the
finest of cut jet. From this design
springs three jetted feathers, also ropes
of jet which are carried to the sides of
the skirt where they are attached to
smaller bow knots. Mourning costumes
are notable this season for the elegance
of their finish, Rough-faced Henriettas
are noted for an elaborate decoration of
crepe The bell skirt is finished with a
deep border of the crepe ; alternate tabs
of the crepe and the material appear up-
on the coat which opens over a waist-
coat of the same fabric. “Crepe buttons
are also used to ornament each side of
the garment.
Another flower season is confidently
predicted by all importers, and the first,
display of pattern bonnets bears out that
prediction. Some of these bonnets are
completely covered with tiny blossoms
intermingled with cut jet and lace,
The fancy for a transparent bonnet,
through which the coiffure can be seen,
continues, though there are no bonnets
shown with the open crowns of last sum-
mer. No ostrich feathers, except the
triple tips of the prince of Wales, which
may be suitably used even with flowers,
are shown for spring and summer. In
spite of the popularity of violets last
summer, another season of violets is pre-
dicted. The dark Russian violets which
come in full clusters with long flexible
stems are preferred to the little close
bunches of violets worn last season.
The newest blossoms are waxed to give
them the soft bloom of the natural flow-
! er, or their are frost so that they look as
! though they were bathed with dew.