os
nt Aiateluea
Bellefonte
, Pa., Feb. 26,1892
SOLILOQUIES IN THE CHOIR.
THE SOPRANO.
It’s strange how blind that preacher has grower,
+ He actually thinks he’s the drawing card,
That the people flock here to hear him spout—
I've amind to resign and let him down hard.
THE ALTO.
The soprano, no doubt, thinks she sings like a
ird, J ;
And she does, to my mind ; but it can’t bring
her luck, :
I could give her a hunch when she joins on
my score, :
For she knocks it all «illy, and quacks like
aduck.
THE TENOR.
Good heavens and earth, it’s lucky I'm here,
For the sake of those girls whoare learning
to sing.
The fear that 1'd leave it they sent them
adrift 3 :
May possibly hold from now until spring.
THE BASSO.
Oh, well, these tyros make me sad;
It seems at times that I must Reep.
They're children, and I ought to rock
Them in my “Cradle of the Deep.
TI-RHADA.
Ti-Rhada was only a little Nepalese
tea gatherer, small and strong and
brown, with two great braids of jet
black hair coiled about her head.
Despite her dark skin she was very
pretty, as Nepalese girls go; not the
least of her marks of beauty were her
large, brilliant eyes. But she did not
know that she possessed charms un-
common to her race, for her mother
and sisters were always too weary of
tea gathering to think of beauty, and
Nepalese men are not given to compli-
menting women. 1 ie,
In the tea fields of Darjeering, in the
very heart of the Himalayas, she was
toiling among the fragrant plants
where for centuries her ancestors had
toiled before her.
She had been therethroughout every
day of the tea season, every one of the
fifteen years of her eventlul life, and
the. thought had never entered her
head that she would ever be anywhere
else, nor that there was an “anywhere
else,” for that matter.
But this day in particular a party of
tourists was wandering about Darjeer-
ling, and they at length came into the
plantation, where one of them, a young
Englishman named Mainwaring, spied
her out. ;
“Good looking young nigger, that,”
he said, jerking his thumb in the direc-
tion of Ti-Rhada. :
“Perhaps,” remarked his compan-
ion, “but beauty in woman 1s always a
relative quantity. They are or are not
good looking, according to your taste
and condition of susceptibility. The
divine Blanche, now, might not agree
with you.” :
“The divine Blanche, fortunately, is
3,000 miles away, so I don’t see what
she has to do with it,” ;
“Try not to be impatient, Mainwar-
ing, but the eyes of five and forty do
not see all things as do the orbs of five
and twenty. Iam an older man than
oun are, and"'—
‘And what?”
“Nothing, perhaps, and perbaps a
reat deal. But the others are hurry-
ing on toward supper and we must not
detain them. Come on.”
The sightseers passed out of the plan-
tation without being seen by Ti-Rhada.
Mainwaring came back to the tea
fields for another look at the ‘young
nigger’ the following morning; and he
came alone.
Ti-Rhada was a bit startled at find-
ing bim suddenly close beside her, with
that in his gaze which she had never
seen in man’s eyes before.
Not wishing to alarm her, Mainwar-
ing turned away.
His friend, Colonel Fritch, was on
the hotel portico when he came in.
“Been hunting up more niggers?’
he inquired,
Mainwaring bowed stifily and enter-
ed the hotel without answering. He
was not only annoyed but indignant.
Fritch was an ass. Ie was dignifying
the merest nothing in the world.
Whom could it harm if he had gone
back for a second glance at the litile
Nedalese? What was she or any oth-
er Hindoo woman to him? They were
interesting to look at, and he should
continue looking at them all he pleas-
ed, and if Fritch had anything more to
say about it he would cut the Fritch
party, stay at Darjeering as long as he
wished and go away when he got
ready.
The next morning he made a third
trip to the fields.
This time, after persistent exertions,
he managed to engage Ti-Rhada in
conversation. That is, he prevailed
upon her fo listen to his questions and
remarks and to make occasional little
monosyllable answers thereunto. This
was not very edifying, and had the
girl been less pretty Mainwaring would
have voted it all a bore, but it was
very pleasant to see her red lips shape
themselves into varying word frames,
and there was a suggestion of music
about the words themselves.
Mainwaring’s pilgrimages to the
plantation were numerous, but not
another word did Fritch say about
Ti-Rhada.
“I thought you people were only go-
ing to stay here a week,” said Main-
waring to Fritch one afternoon when
Ti-Rhada had been particularly inter-
esting, and her white admirer in con-
sequence was particularly amible.
“We find Darjeerling very pleasant
and refreshing,” was Fritch’s reply,
“and so none of us are in a hurry to
get away ; but if your young blood is
gathering impatience for an immediate
hegira, I'l] call the clan together and
we will hie us hence.”
“Oh, I am in no hurry about going
—or that is, it doesn’t concern me in
the least whether we go or stay. But
it had occurred to me that your orig-
inal plan was being varied.”
The next day Mainwaring suspected
that Ti-Rhada was glad to see him,
: 1
sure ofit, He was pliased mizhtily. |
Surely he must have some strength of !
character when both heathen and civi-
lized women were attracted by him!
In a little time a change came over
Ti-Rhada. She not only listened and
assented when Mainwaring talked, but
talked herself, and for an uneducated
little heathen she talked well.
Mainwaring was more than ever |
fescinated ; but somehow he felt con-
strained to delay demonstrations of af-
fection. Down in the dark depths of
Ti-Rhada’s eyes there was that which
showed that love to her, would be no
light thing,
Three weeks from the day he first
saw her, by which time it was her
wont to greet him with a beaming face,
she met him almost sullenly one morn-
ing.
Aiter a dint of much coaxing he
wormed out of her that her dearest
friend, a girl of about her own age, had
lost her lover. Still worse, in abscond-
ing he had taken her future with him,
for she was now an object of contempt
and derision to her entire tribe.
“What will she do now?” asked
Mainwaring, endeavoring to muffle the
stab the disclosure was to his own
purposes.
“Kill herself,” said Ti-Rhada stolid-
ly. “What else is left for her to do ?”
© “Why, in my country she would kill
her lover.”
“Yes? It is unlike India then. I
should like to live in your conntry.” .
“I am glad you don’t live there,’ re-
sponded Mainwaring quickly. “I—I
should be afraid of you.” '
Silence seemed a morsel so much
sweeter than speech to the girl's palate
‘that morning that Mainwaring soon
became uncomfortable and went away.
After much ruminating he decided to
leave the hotel the next day, return to
Calcutta and thence home to England
But the following merning when he
went for a farewell glimpse of her Ti-
Rbada smiled her sweetest, and was
so much more gracious than ever that
he lost his head entirely.
The weeks which followed were full
of blind, unreasoning joy. Not a
thought did they give either to the
past or to the future. The present was
all sufficient.
Wher fall came, and the tea fields
no longer trooped with brown skinned
folk, and there was a sharp chill-in the
air, Mainwa.ing got a letter from his
parents. The intelligence which it
conveyen filled him with dismay.
He was commanded to start for
home at once, eo he would bé there by
Christmas time, and he was notified
that he would be expected to marry
his financee immediately upon his ar-
rival. He was threatened with disin-
heritance if he ventured to deviate from
this course in the slightest degree.
No mention was made in the letter
of either Ti-Rhada or Fritch, but that
the latter nad told the Mainwarings
everything in his ken about the little
Nepalese it was plainly to be seen.
Mainwaring was furious. The wash-
ed out blonde splendors of Blanche no
longer attracted him. Ti-Rhaada was
the only woman in the world for whom
he cared. But—-!:e must have money.
Ti-Rhada and poverty was a combina.
tion which failed to conjure him with
lasting spells. If he could have money
in the degree of abundance essential to
his tastes only by leading Blanche to
the altar, why, to the altar Blanche
should be led.
But he would not give up Ti-Rhada.
As tactfully as he could he told the
girl his position, dilating emphatically
upon the hopeless helplessness poverty
would plunge them both into. There
was but one thing to do, he assured
her ; he must go home, marry Blanche,
tolerate her for a few weeks, till he
could get his money affairs in good
condition, and then fly back to Dar-
jeerling and his hearts darling oace
more.
Woulu Ti-Rhada trust him so much?
Long and steadily she looked into
his eyes, till she seemed to havesearch-
ed out his every secret hope ana fear.
“Yes, I will trust you,” she finally
said. “You may go and—and do as
you say. You love me. You will
cowe back to me.”
With every oath of constancy, a
frenzied lover can think of he swore to
keep faith with her.
Cold and passionless with the pain
of it, all as the brouze she looked like,
was Ti Rhada the day he left her ; and
when the train had born him away she
sauk into a little pulseless heap and
neither moved nor spoke for hours,
March was to have found him back
in the Himalayas again, but he did
not come. Nor did April bring Lim,
nor May.
Once among people of his own kind,
little by little he began wondering if he
had not made a mistake in falling in
love with the coarse little Napalese tea
gatherer. Inthe course of two months
he was sure of it.
He had been a fool.
Of course he would not go back. The
girl will soon forget him for some more
conveniently adjacent lover. It was
the fashion of her race. Perhaps she
had forgotten him already. It was
silly of him to have felt conseience
stricken after ali.
“Do you know, dear, that I am real-
ly beginning to doubt the justice ot my
first impressions and believe that you
truly do love me?” said his wife sev-
eral weeks alter their marriage. “I
should be the happiest of women, for
I have married the rarest of treasures,
a modest man—almost a shy man.”
In June they went over on the Con-
tinent to a little fishing village on the
coast of Norway. This post was now
very dear to them, for it was the scene
of their first meeting.
One afternoon, when the sun made
the air almost sultry, Blanche drowsed
off and fell asleep in her hammock, her
husband sitting beside her.
He soon wearied of smoking, found
readir:g a bore and settled himself back
in his chair for a nap.
When he was nearly asleep there
came the pressure of a hand upon his
brow.
Awakening with a start he found
and by the third day thereafter he was | himself face to face with Ti-Rhada.
She moved silently down the lawn
beckoning him to follow.
Terrified beyond power of resistance,
he obeyed.
In the midst of a little clump of trees
she stopped and faced him, fixing her
greatidark eyes upon his with long and
searching scrutiny, the same as she
had done the day ke left her.
After a time a shaking sob, like a
mortal convulsion, was wrenched from
her bosom, and the rich bronze dark-
TWO LITTLE FEET.
LAURA HARVEY.
Oh life, so prodigal of life !
Ob Jove and destiny at strife !
Oh earth, so full of busy feet!
Oh woods and hills and all t..ings sweet!
Was there no room amidst you all
For two more feet, so soft and small ?
Didst envy me, where thousands sing,
The one bird that made all my Spring,
| My dove, that had so many ways
Of making beautiful life's ay ?
No room ! Or rather it may be
" Earth was too small t’ imprison thee.
ness forsook her skin and left it gray
and ashen.
“I see—l understand!”
quietly. “You are all hers.
she said
Nothing
God only knows. I know I miss
Thy sweet earess, thy loving kiss,
The patter of thy dear small faet,
Thy hand'in mine through la: 3 and street ;
While all that now remains to me
| Is just a precious memor:
within you 1s mine any more, nor his
neither.”
«Hig 37
“I speak of the little dead babe, ly-
ing alone under the tea plants in the
Darjeerling fields.”
Mainwaring groaned, but could not
move. Nor could he even raise a de-
fensive arm, though he saw What her
clenched hand held when it flashed
upward into the air before it fell with
smiting force upon his bosom.
He felt the sudden sharp pain, saw
the crimson answer his iife blood made
to her knife, lurched, caught himself
and fell backward upon the turf; but
not an articulate sound did he utter,
not even when he watched her turn
from him and glide swiftly, noiselessly
toward the sleeping Blanche.—Lew
Vanderpoole in New York Recorder.
The Atheist and the Flower.
When Napoleon Bonaparte was em-
peror of France, he put a man by the
nggme of Charney into prison. He
thought Charney was an enemy of his
governments, and for that reason de-
prived him of his liberty. Charney was
a learned and profound man, and as he
walked to and fro in the small yard into
which his prison opened, he looked u
to the heavens, the work of to God’s
fingers, and to the moon and stars
which he ordained. and exclaimed.
“All things come by chance”
One day, while pacing his yard, he
saw a tiny plant just breaking the
ground near the wall. The sight of it
caused a pleasant diversion of his
thoughts. No other green things was
within his inclosure, He watched its
growth every day. “How came it
there ? was his natural inquiry, As it
grew, other queries were suggested
“How came these delicate little veins
in its leaves ? What made its propor-
tions so perfect in every part, each new
branch taking its exact place on the
parent stock, neither too near another,
nor too much cn one side.”
In his loneliness the plant became the
prisoner’s teacher and his valued friend,
‘When the flower began tounfold he was
filled with delight.. It was white, pur-
ple and rose-colored, with a fine silvery
fringe. Charney made a frame to sup-
port it, and did what his circumstances
allowed to shelter it from pelting rains
and violent wiads.
“All things come by chance,” had
been written by him on the wall, just
above where the flower grew. Its gen-
tlereproof, as it whispered : “There 1s
Ope who made me, so wonderfully
beautifully beautiful, and heitis who
keeps me alive,” shamed the proud
man’s unbelief.
words from the wall, while his heart
felt that, “He who made all things is
God.”
But God had a further blessing for
the erring man through the humble
flower. There was an Italian prisoner
in the same yard whose little daughter
was permitted to visit him. The girl
was mnch pleased with Charney’s love
for his flower. She related what she
saw to the wife of the jailer. The story
of the prisoner and his flower passed
from one to =nother, until it reached
the ears of the amiable Empress, Jose-
phine. The Empress said :
“The man whe so devotely loves
and tends a flower cannot be a bad
man,’’ so she persuaded the Emperor to
set him at liberty,
Charrey carried his flowers hove and
carefully tended it. It taught him of a
God and released him from prison.
The Treasury all Right.
WaAsHINGTON, February 17.—Secre-
tary Foster said this afternoon that there
was nothing in the financial condition
of the treasury to cause the least uneas-
iness and that it was silly to suppose
that the contemplated use of the $100,-
000,000 gold reserved by him to meet
the current. obligations of the govern-
ment meant harm. He said also that
while the present net cash balance of
$27,500,000 consisted almost entirely of
subsidiary coin and money on deposit
with the National banks it does not in-
clude the National bank redemption
fund of $5,500,000 and disbursing offi-
cers’ balances amounting to $25,000,
both of which funds aresubject to the
action of the department and should
not be regarded as ‘demand liabilities.”
——A man wanted to find out what
calling his little son was most fit for,
and locked him upin a room with a
Bible, an apple ard a dollar note. If
he came back and found him reading
the Bible he would make a parson of
him ; if the lad were eating the apple
he should be a farmer, and if he were
playing with the note he would train
him for a banker. On entering the
room he found the boy sitting on the
Bible, eating the apple and with the
dollar note in his pocket. He then and
there decided his son should be a lawyer.
A Yale College student, being
hard up, wrote to his father in New
York : :
“Send me a hundred dollars by re-
turu mail. He who gives quickly gives
double.”
The old gentleman replied by the
next mail, inclosing $50, with the re-
mark that as he bad responded
promptly, the $50 inclosed were equiva-
lent to the desired $100.
~—Cartridge paper of some low tone
is by all odds the most artistic finish for
the walls of a small room. If a bright
color is selected only etchings or engrav-
ings will look well ; paintings require a
neutral ground for relief. Grays,
browns and pearls are always safe for
floor and wall furnishing.
He brushed the lying,|
Twolittle feet neath ears brown sod,
Two white wings somewhere safe with God.
Be —
Not a Tenderfoot.
A young Englishman has been stop-
ping at the Richeliou for three or four
days. He dawdled about the corridors
with his bands stuffed into his pockets
the comic weekly. He looked the typi-
cal stage English noodle at first glance
but his neck and face were a trifle too
brown to. warrant the same conclusion
after a second glance. The smart drum-
mer didn’t look twice, however. The
smart drammer never does except when
a pretty girl is across the dinner table
from him.
who were sitting in their big-leather
chairs at the window and walked over to
where the young Englishman stood.
The young Englishman was apparently
watching the procession of smart turn-
outs on the boulevard. His eyes at least
were turned in that direction, although
there was really no expression on his
face to indicate that he saw across the
street. :
“Just over ?’’ the drummer asked.
“Yaas,” yawned the Englishman.
“Beautiful street, ain't it?’ °
“Chawm’n, sah.”
“Going out west ?”
“Yaas.”
“Rough country out there,” said the
drummer, winking again. “Hope you're
well armed. May have a scrap on your
hands before you get to the city limits.
The Indians are swarming all over the
west side, ghost dancing and all that
sort of thing.”
“Really I” with some astonishment.
“Oh, yes,” continued the drummer,
warming up his subject. “Attacked a
car out kere on West Madison street,
killed the conductor with his own bell
punch and scalped the defenseless pas-
sengers. Oh, she’s a hot town. Gener-
al Miles has gone out with a detachment
of cavalry to check the redskins. People
are fleeing their homes. Attacks are
made on every train and the engineers
are wearing boiler iron clothes as a pro-
tection against the bullets.”
cigarettes from his pocket and selected
one, which he: lit. Then he turned
rather abruptly on the drummer and
laid one large brown paw on the young
man’s shoulder. “Son,” he said, “you
give me a bad pain. If you have any
more fairy stories to tell ahout this neck
of country pick out a tenderfoot. I’ve
been punchin cattle on the prairies for
ten years and I pass you up.
The Englishman resumed his vacant
stare and the drummer went away with-
out paying his bill. — Chicago Herald.
Conundrums.
How many peas in a pint? One.
What trade is like thesun? A
tauner’s,
What is an extra dry subject? A
mummy.
What is a counter irritant ? A wom-
an shopping.
Why are hogs like trees? They root
for a living.
What part of speech is kissing? A
conjunction.
What isa lawyer's favorite dish?
Suet pudding.
Who was the straightest man in
Bible times? Jcseph; Pharoah made
a ruler of him. :
Why are birds melancholy in the
morning? Because their little bills are
all over dew.
Why are kisses like the creation ?
They are made of nothing, and God
knows they are good.
Why was Goliah surprised when he
was struck by a stone? Becanse such
a thing had never entered his head be-
fore.
Bridal Fancies.
Married in white, you have chosen
all right ;
Married in gray. you will go far
away ;
Married in black, you will wish
yourself back ;
Married in red. you will wish your-
self dead;
Married in green, ashamed to be
seen ;
Married in blue, he will always be
true;
Married in pearl, you willlive in a
whirl ;
Married in yellow, ashamed of your
fellow ;
Married in brown, you will live out
of town ;
Married in pink your spirits will
sink.
I —————————
An Italian Defines Flirting.
An Italian author, Ernesto Zenuti,
in an article entitled **Americanisimo
of the American girl, defines. flirtation
as “a fascinating and delightful form
of intimate friendship between beings
of a different sex, in which there is
much of tenderness, much affection,
much coquetry, but in which there is
not—must not be—a spark of real,
true Jove. The Italians,” he adds,
whether from the influence of climate,
temperament or education, cannot
flirt.”
Proor Positive —: Papa,” said a
talkative little girl. “am I made of
dust ?”?
“No, my child. If you were you
would dry up once in awhile.”
and drawled an oceasional answer to a
question in a way fawiliar to readers of | carefully selected; frequent change of
He: winked at his friends
The Englishman drew a package of
Florentino,” in which he shows a re~.ployed in the millinery store of Part.
markable appreciation of the charms oO ig LS in Philadelphia.
0 er
Nervous Children.
A little Towa girls complained bitter-
ly of “peculiar sensations in her hands
and arws,” “Never mind,” her moth-
er said, “I dare say you are just ner
vous 1”
-“Denr me, mamma | maybe I'm go-
ing to die of nervous prospects 1”
No wonder children are afraid of
‘‘nervous prospects,” when half their |
mothers and sisters are “laid up” with |
“nervous prostration I" The little
wiggling, squirming, * restlesssboys who
“bat their eyes,” “twitch th.ir eye-
brow,’”” and sit up in their httle cots at
night to fight their brothers in their
sleep; and the little girls whose fingers
and feet are never still, and whose books
follow them through dreamland, will
be nervous still, unless they -get more
sleep and less excitement, simpler meals,
and greater care as to study.” So says
an eminent New York doctor
Nervous susceptible children need the
closest attention. Their dlet must be
air and scene given them ; gymnastic
exercises to promote a free circulation
and equalize the nervous tention.
Avoid brain pressure and fault finding.
Nervous children are sensative, in an
acute degree; blame so hurts the heart,
often injuring them beyond repair. A
Paris specialist, on nervous diseases,
writes : “Unless great care is given to
delicate, susceptible, nervous little ones
during early growth, maturity develops
hysteria, St. Vitus dance and insanity.”
Mental impressions are so extreme:
despondency or exhaustion! Their
quickness of intellect dominate over the
body. Genius often belongs to this
class, and out of such are made men and
women who grow far above the level of
common walks,
Dr. Mitchell says : “Let discipline be
merged into recreation. Give abundant
fresh air, exercise and good food. The
kitchen and the class room are closely
connected! Encourage special pursuits
as there seem an aptitude, and don’t let
the brain go underfed |”
A good brain must have a good body,
and unless parent and teachers see to ir,
and judiciously balance them, there wil
come a crash sooner or later. Mr. De-
Witt Talmage says : “Our young peo-
ple have read till they are crazed, of
learned blacksmiths, who at the forge
conquered forty languages; of milliners
who, while customers tried on spring
hats, wrote a volume of first rate poems,
Now, no blacksnith ought to be af-
flicted with more than five languages,
and the supply of poetry is greater than
the demand ; milliners better stick to
their business. ~~ Because Napoleon
slept only three hours a night, hundreds
of silly boys have tried only to fail.
We are continually told how many
books a man can read in the five spare
minutes before breakfast, and the ten
minutes at noon; but I wish some one
could tells us how much rest a man can
get fifteen minutes after dinner, or how
much health in an hour’s horseback
ride, or how much fun in a Saturday af-
ternoon of cricket. He who has such
an idea of the value of time that he takes
none of it for needed rest, wastes all his
time 1”
Our children may not astonish the
world at six like “Goethe,” or “Vietor
Hugo,” but they are “worth raising,”
and don’t let them die of “nervous
prospects.”’— Margaret Spencer,
‘What Money Is.
A daily paper recently offered a prize
for the best definition of “money.” "The
p ize was awarded to Henry BE. Baggo,
of Sheffield. His difinition was: An
article which may be used as a univer-
sal pts:port to everywhere except heaven
and as a universal provider of every-
thing except happiness.” Among the
other definitions were the following :
Devil’s dust. .
The traveler's best pocket companion.
One of the umpires in the game of
life, played by happiness versus misery.
The best friend of the masses, the
mainstay of the classes, the grand aim
of the lasses and the ruin of the asses;
money is an idol, worshiped in every
clime without a single temple.
The sugar that sweetens life.
The best microscope for finding rela-
tionship with the father’s independence,
the mother’s satisfaction, the son’s snare
und the daughter’s blessing. |
The God of the miser, the plaything
of the rich, the joy of the middle classes
and the envy of the poor.
The bull’s eye of ambition.
The balance thut adjusts the scale in
well nigh every transaction of human
life.
That which is man’s mission to get
and woman’s mission to spend.
Hard to get, easy to spend, awkward
to borrow and unpleasant to lend.
The rich man’s faith, the poor man’s
hope and the good man’s charity.
_ Money is that which has eagle’s
wings and yet cannot mount as high as
man’s desire.
The shot required in life to hit the
target of success.
Ammunition for the battle of life.
A ‘convenient handle for grip of
avarice; a lever for the efforts of benev-
olence and an impulse to the practice of
thrift.
A tangible expression of fickle for-
tune’s smile.
A sign language that holds good
throughout the world.
A sweat condenser and the suction in
the pump of the rich to rob labor.
That Funny Story May Kill Her.
Care May, Feb.—Flora Springer,
who was brought home to Goschen
suffering from an attack of hiccough-
ing, is no better to-day. She was em.
riends went to the store
three weeks ago and told her funny
stories. She laughed violently and
then began to hiccough continually for
a week. She finally was compelled to
give up her position. The family fear
the girl will die. |
Christine Nilsson’s return to her
| native country of Sweden as wife of the
{ Spanish ambassador, the Count de la
| Casa Miranda, rounds out well her ro-
| mance of real life. She was a farmer’s
“child on the hills when her gift of song
was discovered, and after a most fortu-
, nate life as queen of song on twp conti-
nents she returns in the rank ofa gran-
dee of Spain.
The Warld of Women.
Beads here, beads there, beads every-
where.
Rushing of silk at the
wrists.
Long-box-plaited cloaks, belted ini at
neck and
{ the waist
Pale green for trimming white even
ing toilets,
Black cloth ulsters having a rubber
| finished lining.
House dresses will have the high col-
lars and deep cuffs.
The girl of the period cultivates bright
and quick responses. i
Girdle belts of seal leatherand kid
+edudded with steel,
Long hairpins, fancy brooches and
bangles of cut silver.
Some of the handsomest spring gowns
will have blouse bodices.
Twilled china silk, showing stripes
that have a slight bourette effect.
Black hose for slipper wear that have
the instep in new designs of lace
work.
Blue serge for general wear dresses
intended for shopping, walking. travel-
ing, etc.
A late veil is of black Chantilly em-
broidered with sprays and finished with
a heavy scalloped edge.
An extravagant supply of napery is
required in the dining room where the
meal is served on polished oak minus
table cloth.
An uptown girl has made a bed
spread out of pieces of her discarded
blazers. Each patch recalls the story of
a summer flirtation.
The fashion of young women wearing
their largest pink, yellow or blue sashes
around their necks on the street seems to
be constantly spreading.
Miss Ellen Terry has an eye tous
iness. She saw a lot of her portraits in
an Edinburgh bazar marked down to
eighteen pence each. Taking her pen,
she wrote her name on each of them
and they at once became in active de-
mand at a guinea apiece.
Miss Amelia B. Edwards, who has
earned almost as much fame asa travel-
erand Egyptologist ‘as by her work as
an author, is likely to be placed by
Queen Victoria upon the list of those
who receive literary fund pension as an
acknowledgment of their services to the
cause of literature.
Rosebud luncheons ‘develop some
marvelously pretty floral ideas. Ata
recent entertainment given by one of
fortune’s favorites a novelty in wall
decorations exhibited a trellis of natural
branches in and out of which were
twined the sweetest and freshest of
flowers.
An oddity in ribbon-run trimming
appears upon the sweet dimity gown or
the toilette of fine chambrey. Just
above the hem of the skirt button holes
are worked and an inch wide ribbon
is carried through them These button
holes may be placed upon any part of
the dress with excellent effect, .
Crimson and the old magenta red will
be the fashionable shades next season.
This is good news, for they are tints that
almost every woman can wear and look
well. Red lips, the deep, blood red of
Italian beauty, have been admired since
nature began painting them, and that is
the color the fashion artists have tried
to reproduce in the new fabrics for -
Spring and Summer.
Full corsages are prettily varied by a
trimming of velvet ribbon carried from
the shoulder seams on either side round
the fronts edge of the armhole. It is
then brought in oblique direction to-
wards the centre of the waist, and the
strands meeting there form a point, and
a second length of velvet carried round
the edge of the bodice to the point in
front, and confining the few pleats their
‘laid makes a dressy yet simple decora-
tion for a slender figure. A neat little
home dress which carried out this idea
was of softest rese colored India cash-
mere, the sleeves of darkwine velvet, as
were also the three anarrow frills that
trimmed the sheath skirt and the mod-
erately high Medici collar.
Sashes have come into great favor
within the last few weeks. It may be
only a folded ribbon round the waist,
terminating at the side in a rosette, or
even a plain band of satin fastening in-
visibly under the arms. Bodices are fre-
quently made in the round old-fashion-
ed style and therefore require a “finish”
of some kind. The “Directoire” style
(and this is such a very elastic term
that it means almost any bodice with
big revers) is being pushed by French
dressmakers for the Spring season. The
prettiest form of the many varieties of
this Directory costume. Is that which
has a bodice with immense revers cross-
ed under a softly folded silk sash tied a
little to one side of the frontin large
bows and ends. Only a very slender
figure can stand such a style as this, for
‘| it has too many excrescerces at shoulder
and waist to suit any redundacy of
figure.
An extremely effective tailor-gown
was worn by a very well “set up’ wo-
man the other day. It was certainly not
mourning, but as madame was on her
way to Liverpool, thence to embark for
America. perhaps she may be forgiven
for not assuming the regulation black or
gray. At any ratethis frock was of
very thick rough tweed interwoven °
with threads of every shade of tan on a
brownish gray surface, with a broad
though irregular stripe of powder blue
showing well against the rather mixed
background. The skirt was of course
plain and pointed. A long coat bodice
half fitting and with a rolled-over collar
shaped like a man’s frock coat collar,
faced with dull gray corded silk, A
waistcoat of plain smooth tan-color was
evidently fastened underneath the arms,
as no buttons were visible, and the fit
was exquisite. Tne sleeves were very
full to the elbow, and then buttoned
tight and plain to the wrist, The hat
worn with this gown was of powder
“blue feit; in shape, a round crown,
with curled-up, though rather broad,
brim. This was trimmed with rolls of
tan-colored velvet and a bunch of stiff
blue feathers on the left side. A rather
closemeshed, though clear blue veil, and
tancolored gloves and shoes completed
an exceptionally ‘‘business’’ looking
costume, and one well calculated to
stand even the buffeting of an Atlantic
passago in midwinter.