Democratic watchman. (Bellefonte, Pa.) 1855-1940, March 25, 1892, Image 2

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    EF ET a TT. OT AB EE ee ETO is
Dona ip
Bellefonte, Pa., March 25, 1892
Food is dear friend! I say good night to
Across the moonbeams, tremulous and white
Bridging all space between us it may be.
Lean low, sweet friend, it is the last good
For, lying mute upon my couch and still,
The fever flush evanished from my face,
I heard them whisper softly, *'Tis His will ; -
Angels will give her a happier resting place!
And so, from sight of tears that fall like rain,
And, sound of sobbing smothered close and
I turned my white face to the window pane,
To say Good night to thee before 1 go.
Good night, good night! I do not fear the end
The in with the billows dark and high;
And yet, if could touch thy hand, my friend,
I think it would be easier to aie.
If I could feel, through all the quiet waves
Of my deep hair, thy tender breath a-thrill,
I could go down to the place of graves
With eyes aeshine and pale lips smilling
still ;
Or it may be that if, through all the strife
And pain of parting, I should hear thy ecall,
I should came surging back to sweet, sweet
And know no mystery of death at all.
It may not be. Good night, dear friend, good
And when you see the violets again,
And hear, through boughs with swollen buds
The gentle falling of the April rain.
Remember her whose young life held thy
With all things holy, in its outward flight,
And turn sometimes from busy haunts of men
To hear again her low Good night, good
night! —Hester A. Benedict.
No doubt the place is yours by good
rights, ain’t it, Jason ?”
The woman that asked this question
though past her girlhood, was still
young, and there had been a time when
Jason Sands, in the infatuation of
youth, had thought her pretty ; but her
mouth to-day had a shrewish look, and
there was a vindictive snap in her
small black eyes. Her hair was twist
ed so tightly that the wind was power-
less to ruffle it, and in her starched
calico gown and gingham apron there
was a grim tidiness unrelieved by col-
lar or ribbon. She had been to the
garden, and she held in her hand a
stalk of rhubarb, from which: she was
pulling in a preoccupied way the silky
red peel.
“Q, I've got a sort of a lien on it,
but that ain’t ownin’ it,” said the man,
without looking up. He was raking
the front yard.
“You hoi’ the mortgage, don’t you?”
said the woman, biting oft a bit of the
“S'pose 1 do?”
“Why, the int'res’ ain't b’en paid
for three years. You know that
‘thout my tellin” youn.”
“Well?” said the man, indifferently,
“Well!” repeated his wife, sharply,
“how long you goin’ to let 1t run on
Jason stopped raking, and looked at
her uneasily. “Youn don’t mean, Mi-
randy, that you want me to foreclose
on my own father and mother?”
“Why not? Business is business, re-
lation or no relation; an’ if you did
that, the place’d be ours to do as we
please with.”
“I ain't so sure about that It's
down in black an’ white that, whether
the int'res’ is paid or not, father’s
al’ays to have a home here. Uncle
Richard use’ to hol’ the mortgage; an’
when he died, some five or six years
ago. father got me to take it, so's it
wouldn't go out o' the family; but
‘tain’t ever be'n changed.”
“Then 'twas made out ’for he mar-
ried agin ?”’ said Miranda.
~ “Well, what o’ that?"
“Nuthin'; only in that case she
ain't counted in. Au’ she ain’t your
mother, any way.”
“She's the only mother I ever knew
anything about, Mirandy. She's be’n
a mother to me ever since I was three
years ol'—a right-down good one, too;
an’ as fo. her not bein counted in, she’s
jus’ as much right here as if she was;
‘cause after father got hurt in the
brickkila, there was a good many
years that he wasn’t able to do much,
an’ all that time she kep’ the int'res’
paid up out of her own pocket. Uncle
Richard tol’ me so.”
Miranda, who had stood nervously
nibbling the rhubarb stalk, made haste
to change her tactics. *‘Oh, of course,
Jason, I'd al’ays expect you to be good
to her. But you know yourself ’tain’t
very pleasant havin’ two heads to a
house; an’ co long as Mother Sands
thinks she owns it all, I dasn’t say a
word even if everything goes to rack
an’ ruin. Besides, she’s gittin’ too ol’
to have the care.”
* Jason listened with a sort of helpless
patience. He was an easy-tempered
man, ready to yield almost any point
for the sake of peace, and his wife was
was well aware of his weakness. It
was to please her that he bad sold his
farm; and though at the time he fully
intended to buy another, before he
could decide on one she had persuaded
him to take a place that had been of-
fered him by a city friend as drummer
in a wholesale grocery store. It was a
business that seemed to her inuch more
“genteel” than farming. Meanwhile
he had accepted his mother’s invita-
tion to bring his family home for a
visit. “Jus’ till I get time to look up
a house,” he said.
‘But Miranda had always coveted
the pretty cottage, and before they had
been in ita week she had determined
to get possession of it, Jason had nev-
told her of the mortgage. Knowing
that the place would eventually belong
to him, be had not been troubled by
the fact that the interest was (not al-
ways promptly paid ¢ neither did he
want the old folks troubled, and it vex-
ed him that Miranda had chanced to
find the papers. But her reasoning in
regard to the housekeeping seemed
very plausable. His mother was past
seventy, it was time she had a rest,and
she could have it as well as not if she
would only consent to let “Mirandy”
take charge of things for a while.
“I wish you'd speak to her ‘bout it,”
said Miranda. “She'd be a good deal
more likely to do it if you proposed it
‘an if I did.”
Jason did not covet the task, but he
knew the penalty of refusing.
“She’s in the kitchen,” Miranda re-
marked, with another nibble at the
rhubarb stalk.
“No hurry about it,” grumbled Ja-
son. But presently,~with an air of
forced surrounder, he laid down his
rake and went into thehouse. He
found his mother making bread.
“You see, mother, you're gettin’
kinder along in years,” he argued,
“an’ you'd ought to let somebody else
do the heft of the work, Why don’t
you let Mirandy, long as she’s here?
She's a firs’rate housekeepeer, an’
ghe’d ruther do it ’an not.”
The little old lady liftad her head
with a troubled look. ,“Why, I
shouldn’t know what to do with my
self, Jason, if I hadn’t something to
keep me busy. I've al’ays be’n use’ to
it, you know. But,” she added, draw-
ing in her lip, and slowly patting the
loaf she was kneading, “if Miranndy
wante to take a turn at it for a while,
she can. I won't hinder her.”
The daughter-in-law accepted this
concession with secret triumph, and
she 80 coon managed to get entire con-
trol of the kitchen, that the deposed
housewife, missing the homely cares
that for so many years had occupied
her hands and thoughts, would have
been in a ead strait had it not been for
the children.
“I loves gramma,” said little Delia.
one day,as she mounted her grandmoth-
er's knee.
“Me do, too,” chimed the baby,
clambering up beside her sister.
“Makes me think, Hesba,”’ said her
husband, a sudden mist dimming his
glasses, “of the times you use to sit
holdin’ Jany an’ Ruth.”
Hesba's eyes also grew misty, for
there were two graves in the far cor-
ner of the garden; but the prattling
children on her lay lefv her no time
for reminiscence.
“Do put’em down, an’ let ’em ‘muse
‘emselves. You coddle ‘em too much,”
fretted Miranda.
“Oh, I like to have 'em ’round me,”
said Hesba.
But Miranda frowned. “They're
gittin’ 'mos’ as bad as Jason,” she
complained to herself. “They think
there's nobody like that ol’ woman.”
Jason's new business often took
him from home for weeks at a time,
and it was while he was off on one of
these expeditions that Miranda im-
proved the opportunity to carry out a
long cherished project.
“Seems to me, gran’ma,”’ she began,
warily, having joined her mother-in-
law in the sitting room, armed with
her knitting work, ‘you're lookin’
kinder peaked. ItI'syou, I'd take a
little trip somewheres. Jason says
you've got a brother livin’ in Connecti-
cut. I should think it'd be nice for
you to go and visit him. Why don’t
you, now ?”’
“Well, I don’ know. I never was
much of a han’ to go visitin’,”’ said
Hesba, as unsuspicious as a baby.
“And though I don’t doubt brother
William 'd be glad to see us; he’s got
such a family of his own, I should feel
as if we’s imposin on him.”
“Might as well impose on him as on
folks that’s no relation to you.” And
Miranda's needles clicked viciously.
Hesba looked at her in wonder.
“What do you mean, Mirandy. I
didn’t know’s I was imposin’ on any-
“] don’ know what else you can call
it,” said Miranda, with merciless de-
liberation. “You know well enough
that the int’res’ on the mortgage ’ain’t
be’n paid for vears, an’ Jason could
turn you out to-morrer if he wanted
to.” .
“Turn us out!” repeated Hesba.
“Oh no, Miraundy, he couldn’t do that,
‘cause father’s to have a home here as
long as he lives; he’ got that down in
“Yes; but you an’ father’s two dif
ferent persons. Your name ain’t put
down on the paper, an’ I's on’y sayin’
what we could do if we wanted to. Bat
I'm expectin’ comp’ny from the city
next week, 'twould obleege me consid’-
rable it you'd jus’ go over to your broth-
er’s an’ stay a spell, ‘cause while you's
away father could sleep on the cot in
the hall bedroom.”
“Go an’ leave father! Is that what
you mean, Mirandy ?”’ :
“It was pitiful to see how white and
tremulous she grew.
“Why, you wouldn't want to take
him with you when your brother's got
such a family already? What'd be
the use ?”” aid Miranda. She was very
willing to have the old man stay ; she
depended on him to bring all the wood
and water.
Hesba turned to the window to catch
her breath. Outside, gray clouds were
lowering, and spiteful gusts were send-
ing little coveys of browa leaves scur-
rying through the air. But Hesba
saw only the gaunt figure in the potato
patch, and throwing a shawl over her
head she hurried out. The old man
dropped his hoe and went to meet her.
“If you go, Hesba, I go too, you can
depend on that,” he said hotly, when
she bad told her trouble,
But after talking it over, they decid-
ed that unless Miranda herself brought
up the subject they would not mention
it again. Perhaps before the week
was out Jason would be home. And
by-and-by Miranda, who had taken
Hesba’s place at the window, saw
them coming up from the potato patch
hand in hand, the old man walking
very erect, his hoe across his shoulder,
and the little old wife clinging to him
like a child.
“I s'pose they think they've got it
all settled,” muttered the woman ; “but
we'll see.”
Two days later a letter came to Hes
ba from her brother.
“‘She’s ben a writin’ to him,” blurted
the old man, clinching his fist.
Hesba took no notice of the remark.
“He says,” she began, following the
* lines slowly with her dim eyes, ‘‘that
he'd like very much to have a visit
from me, an’ he hopes I'il come right
away, ‘fore cold weather sets in. But
he’s ’fraid I'll have to put up with |
sleepin’ with gne o’ the children,
they're so short 0’ recom,”
“Then o’ course that pats an end to
father’s goin’,” said Miranda, coming
in noiselessly from the kitchen, the
door having been let ajar.
“An’ to her goin’, too, I guess,” an-
swered the old man.
“Qh, you shouldn't say that, father,”
said Miranda. “It'll be a real nice
little trip for her, and®do her lots o’
2 The old man scowled, and thumped
the floor with his cane. “She ain’t go-
in’ to stir a step, not with my consent,”
he cried, angrily.
“'Sh-gh, father,” whispered his wite.
“Don’t let’s have any words about it.”
Miranda put her apron to her eyes.
“I’m sure I don’t want to have no
words,” she whimpered.
Hesba stood up with her hand on
her husband’s shoulder. “We won’t
say anything more, Mirandy. I'll go
to William’s as soon as I can get my
things ready, an’ stay till your com-
pany’s gone.”
Miranda walked out of the room
without answering. She bad gained
the day, there was nothin more to be
said, but she still held her apron to
her eyes.
The old people had seldom been
separated even for a day, and during
the time that intervened they would
sit, hand in hand, by the nour, trying
forlornly to find some way to escape
-from Miranda's plan.
“]t’s no use, father,” sighed Hesba.
“She’s made up her mind to have me
go, an’ to go fore Jason comes home,
an’ she won't res’ till she gets me out
o’ the house.”
“Well, she'll repent it,” said the old
man, shaking his head. .
“Don't, father,”’ entreated his wife.
“'Tain’t for us to make her repent it.”
It was not until the time came to say
good by thatthe children began to com-
prehend that she was ‘going away.
“(Gramma mustn't “do,” cried little
Delia, clinging to Hesba's skirts, and
then the baby set up a wail, and refus-
ed to be comforted.
Hesba strained the little creatures
for a moment to her bosom. “I don’t
want any harm to come to you, Miran-
dy,” she said, turning to her daughter-
in-law, “but I can’t help fearin’ that
separatin’ father an’ me as you're
doin’, the Lord may see fit to separate
you from some 0’ them you love.”
That was her farewell word. :
When Jason came home the follow-
ing week, it was an easy matter for
Miranda to make him believe that his
mother bad gone of her own free will
to visit her brother, the old man, cde-
dient to his wife's entreaty, keeping
silent. She took much eredit to her
self for having managed it so well.
Her visitors came and went, but she
said not a word about Hesba’s coming
home. Not even the old man’s plead-
ing eyes could move her.
One morning in November, while
Miranda was busy in the kitcher, little
Nan wandered into the yard, and
amused herself for half an hour chas-
ing the chickens. The ground was
covered with slush, and that night the
child was seized with diptheria.
For three days she lay tossing and
moaning, and almost the only words
that passed her lips were, “Gamme!
I ont gamma.”
“Baby can’t have gran’ma. Gran’
ma’s gone,” said Miranda. ‘“Mom-
mer’s here to take care o’ Nan.”
But she was not skillful at nursing.
Nao grew rapidly worse, still moaning
for “gamma ;”’ and death came with
the suddenness characteristic of the
Jason reached home the day before
the funeral. He was almost heart-
broken. “You'd ought to have sent for
mother,” he said at once.
“I don’t know what for,” Miranda
protested, in an injured voice. ‘The
doctor an’ me did everything that
could be done, an, there wouldn’t be
any earthly use sendin’ for her now.”
A day or two later little Delia came
and leaned against her knee as she sat
sewing. “I want my gramma,”’ said
the child, with a long-drawn sigh. I
want her to tell me stories.”
“Delie seems to think she hol's a
mortgage on mother,” said the old
man; “an’ I guess it's legaler ’an the
one some othe: folks hol’.”
Miranda winced, but she was too
wise to make him any answer. “Go to
gran’pa’’ she said to Delia. “Heli
tell you ’bout Jack the Giant-killer.”
“1 doesn’t want to hear bout Jack
‘e Giaut-killer,” said the child, per-
versely, “Gramma she telled me sto-
ries ’bout little chillen love one an-
Her grandfather took her on his
knee. ‘That was said for grown-up
folks as well as for httle children,” he
remarked, looking turtively at Miran-
da, “an’ it means that everybody cught
to be lovin’ an’ kind to each other.”
“Gramma was lovin’ an’ kind,” said
The old man laid his cheek against
hers, but he drew back with a startled
“Why, Mirandy, this child’s sick!”
he exclaimed. ‘‘She’s got a ragin’
Miranda threw down her sewing, and
snatched the child gaway from him.
Delia was her idol.
“I want gramma,’’ repeated the lit-
tle one, drowsily.
Just then Jason came in.
“Go telegraph for mother,” cried
Miranda. “Tell her uot to wait for
When the doctor came the next af-
ternoon, he found his little patient nest-
led in Hesba’s lap, while close beside
.the winner of the game.
them, his chin on {his cane, and his
face beaming like a lover's, sat the old |
“Ah, she is better,” said the doctor.
“She is getting on finely.”
“We're all better,” piped the old
man, blinking behind his glasses.
“We've got our gramma back,” said
the child, contentedly.—Harper's Ba-
Some Pleasant Games,
A Few Suggestions for an Evening at Home.
In the game called “Observation,”
says the Delineator, pencils and paper
are needed. On the table in the center
of a room & number of articles are plac-
ed—the larger the number and the
more varied the articles, the better for
the interest of the game. The players
enter and walk around the table once;
they then leave the room, and each
writes on his paper the list of articles in
the group he can remember. Hach
| plaver courts the articles in his list, and
the one having the largest number reads
his list. As each article is announced
the players having that article on their
hist cross it off. The reader scores for |
each article notrd that the other have
not on their lists, taking as many points |
as there are players who have not writ-
ten the name of thearticle, Any names
remaining on the other lists after the
reader has finished are read, and the
scoring is carefully kept. An umpire
is always chosen, who settles any ques-
tions that may arise, such as, whether
an article has been properly described,
whether such an article was really on
the table, ete. For instance the articles
on the table are :
Three books, A photograph, A penknife
A lamp, A paper cutter, A vase,
Four marbles, A doll, A pintray,
A fancy blotter, Two pencils, A teacup,
Half dozen pens, A calendar, A thimble
An ink-stand, A fancy bag, A penwiper
Some writing paper, Two papers of nee-
dles, A spool of thread.
A's list includes all the articles except
three, and he has four names that no
other person has, so, as there are nine
other players, A obviously scores thirty-
six. B’slist is a poor one, and as it con-
tains no artlcle that the other nine
players have not observed, his score is
nothing. C’s list contains two articles
that five of those playing have not re-
membered, and his score is, therefore
ten. A prize might be awarded the one
making the highest score, and it would
prove a pleasant surprise if the prize
were not mentioned until the game is
ended. Favors or prizes are very gen-
ally awarded nowadays and are kept as
souvenirs by the winners.
Pencil and paper are required for this
game, and the players are seated about
a table. Each person writes a number
on his paper, and when all are written,
the slips are collected and shuffled in a
box ; after which one is drawn by each
player, who is required to state what the
number on his new slip is famous for.
Failing in this, a forfeit must be paid.
Among the answers that may be given
are the following :
One—A nose on every face.
Two—Two gentlemen of Verona.
Three—The points of a triangle.
Four—-The points of the compass.
Five—The number of fingers on the
Seven—The biblical number. May
refer to the seven tribes of Israel or to
the seven branched candlestick.
Ten—The council of ten or the ten
All the players being seated around a
table, each is given a square of paper,
after which scissors are passed and each
player clips his paper into four pieces.
The pieces are then shuNed and passed
to the player on the left, who must ar-
range them so they will form the origin-
al square. A time limit is usually de-
cided upon before commencing, and is
generally three minutes. At the expir-
ation of the time those who have suc-
ceeded score one point. The pieces are
then shuffled by each holder and are
again passed to the left to be once more
arranged. So the pieces are shufiled
and passed from hand to hand until
they have gone the round of the table.
The player making the most points is
If at the ex-
piration of the first time limit no one has
succeeded in making the square, time
should be extended : if, on the contrary,
all succed, the time should be shortened.
The task may seem very simple but in
reality 1t is quite difficult, especialy as
it must be completed in a certain time.
A little favor may be offered to the
player making the highest score, and a
booby prize to the one scoring the few-
est points.
In this game of letters single dots are
used to represent consonants and double
dots vowels. The players being provid-
ed with pencils and paper, each one
writes a word by means of the dot: men-
tioned above and passes the paper to the
player at his right, who is allowed to ask
any question regarding the word that
may be answered by “Yes” or ‘No.”
A time limit is set.
The following samples will illustrate
method of using the dots for letters :
Philadelphia ..:.:. seine
Although this is a word game, it dif-
fers considerably from the preceeding
one. The players sit in a circle or near
each other, and the one commencing
gives to his left hand neighbor three
words commencing with thesame two
letters. The player to whom the words
are given must connect them in an in-
telligible sentence, and must then give
his left hand neighbor three similar
words. A failure to make a sentence
demands the payment of a forfeit, and
the same words are given to the next
player. To illustrate: A gives to B the
words cat, caper and cannon ; and B re-
plies: “The cat began to caper in front
of the cannon.” I give to C the words
man, match and marl. To this C makes
reply thus: “The man read his mail by
the light of a match. I give to D sand,
sack and sap.” And so the game con-
tinues. An timpire should. be chosen
and a time limit set, before commencing.
Line a large bowl, or dish (the hand-
somer the better,) with pale green tissue
paper. Lay it in carelessly, crinking
the edges, like Savoy lettice. Cut sev-
eral sheets of two shades, very pale and
quite dark, into shreds, crinkling them
with a knife. Put all sizes
bowl to imitate celery tops and lettuce
into the
According to the number playing,
cut strips of stiff white paper in squares,
like the bits of chicken. Write on
them short, familiar quotations from au-
thors. Drop them into the dish, toss
them over and over until well mixed.
Pass the salad to your guests, To the
one who guesses the greatest number, is
given the prize, and the “booby prize”
goes to the one least learned.
Prepare in the same way, substituting
«Mother Goose” for‘ Authors.” Moth- |
er Hubbard is simple. - Write plainly |
on larger squares, “Old Mother Hub- |
: bard.” on another, “ Went to the cup- |
board,”’-another, “To get her poor dog,”
arbther, “A bone!” So on—to the |
end. After all are drawn outone reads,
“Mother.” ete., as. quickly as possible. |
Somebody pipes up, “Went to,” etc.
Watching breathlessly, one little fel-
low reads, ‘To get,” ete. ; while another
shouts, “A bone!” For mistakesa for-
feit is paid. M. 8.
The Population of India.
Nearly 400,000,000 People Now Own Queen Vic
toria as Ruler.
The census of British India just com-
pleted shows the total population of
288,000,000, and it is computed nearly
400,000,000 ot people now acknowledge
the sovereignty of Queen Victoria, or
rather of the British parliament, for that
the is essential of British rule. Thisisa
greater number of people than any
monarch of ancient or modern times has
ruled over. Itincludes an area of 11,
300,000 square miles. Russia comes
next with a population of about 110,-
000,000, or less than one third that of
the British empire, and an area of some
thing over 8.000,000 square miles. The
area of the United Statesis small com-
pared with that of Russia or the British
empire, and includes but 3,600,000
square miles, with probably 65,000,000
he diversity of religious belief in the
British empire is illustrated by the fig-
ures of the Indian census: Queen Vic-
toria has in India three times as many
‘of the Hindu religion as in her whole
empire of the Christian faith, and pro-
bably as many Mohammedans as Chris-
tians. The Indian returns according to
religion are: Hindus 207,654,407;
Mussulmans, 57,365,204 ; Christian, 2,-
284,191; Jains, 1,416,109; Sikbs, 1,-
907,836 ; Buddhists, 7.101,057 ; Parsees
89,887 ; Jews, 17,190; forest tribes (an-
imal worshipped),9.802,088. Here isa
wide scope for missionary labor, but un-
fortunately the Hindu and Mohamme-
dan faiths are increasing more rapidly
than the Christian.
St, Patrick’s Day.
In observing St. Patrick’s Day the
Irish celebrate the dawn of civilization
upon their country. The great mission-
ary preached in Ireland not Chiistianity
alone, but liberty and learning. He
found it a land of heathen barbarians
and filled it with churches and schools.
He found a people who, while they
practiced slavery themselves, suffered
heavily from the piratical marauders
who swept their shores to fill the slave
markets of the continent. Itis as well
authenticated as anything that has come
down concerning him through the misty
distance of 1,400 years that while he
baptized kings and established bishop-
rics, bis heart and his work took in also
the wrongs and sufferings of the hum-
blest peasant. In theshadow of univer-
sal slavery he confronted the practice of
centuries, and preached liberty and the
brotherhood of men. Not merely as the
successful missionary who brought a
whole people to confess a new religion,
but as among the foremost of the brave
and gentle men whose lives have light-
ed the dark places of the earth, the peo-
ple for whom he worked so long aud
faithfully do well to recall and celebrate
his memory not only, not only with
processions and the outward forms of
remembrance, but with serious thought
of what it stands for.
The New Route tc Colorado.
First-Class Sleeping Cars— Electric
Lighted --ran daily between Chicago.
Omaha, Lincoln and Denver, via the
Short Line of the Chicago, Milwaukee
& St. Paul R’y—Chicago to Omaha—
and the Burlington Route--Omaha to
Lincoln and Denver. Leave Chicago
6:00 p. m., arrive Omaha next morn-
ing, Denver second morning tor break-
fast, face and hands washed, ready for
business or pleasure. Time and money
saved. All Coupon Ticket Agents in
the United States and Canada sell tick-
ets via the Chicago, Milwaukee & St.
Paul R’y, or address John R Pott. Dist.
Pass, Agent, 486 William Street, Wil-
liams port, Pa.
~ Platinum.
The demand for platinum for use in
science has raised its value to three-
quarters that of gold. Three years ago
it was worth eighty dollars a pound.
It now costs $160, or eleven times more
than silver. It is found in small quan-
tities in Peru, Columbia, Brazil, the
Ural mourtains, California, Oregon
and Borneo. The yearly output has
never been more than four tons and is
now three.-—Philadelphia Ledger.
salve in the world for Cuts, Bruises,
Sores. Ulcers, Salt Rheum, Fever Sores,
Tetter, . Chapped Hands, Chilblains
Corns, and ail Skin Eruptions, and pos-
itively cures Piles, or no pay required.
It is guaranteed to give perfect satisfac-
tion, or money refunded. Price 25
cents per box. For sale by C. M.
———*“Do you intend to keep Lent?”
he asked, drawing his chair a little
nearer to her own.
“I haven't been borrowed yet,” she
said with a charming frankness.
Then the poor fellow knew that
he had made a fatal mistake.—Detroit
Free Press.
The World of Women.
Brunettes aresaid to be hardier than
Miss Besant, the novelist’s sister often
travels thirty or forty miles by tricyele.
Dancing shoes are now being worn
; with flat heels, almost imperceptible as
A damp cloth dipped in salt will re.
move egg stains from silvers or tea stains
from china,
The newest coat bodice is cut away on
the hips und set in rather long, narrow
and flat swallowtails at the back,
Vinnie Ream Hoxie, the sculptress, is
petite. She has been compared to a.
“plump brown sparrow fluiterring in
the sunlight.”
New hairpins, which you thrust in
the back of the coiffure to hold in place
the small bonnets and crownless - Lats,
are of gold, beautifully cut out in open
work pattern.
Stripes everywhere, and such very
pretty stripes. They are broad and
some of them exquisitely shaded, begin-
ning with the lighter tints and shading
into deeper tones,
A cut-glass vase to match to hold a
few spring flowers is also a dainty acces-
sory—especially at this season when a
couple of tulips and a bunch of jonquils
are so suggestive.
Throughout the entire season cheviots
and tweeds, shaggy and smooth, will be
in demand. They are natty, stylish and
durable and may always be counted
upon as the correct thing for an outing.
According to the New York Times, a.
new 5 o’clock tea cloth is in white with.
a running pattern over it, through
which is lettering in German, “When
the stranger comes give him of your
A special fancy this spring will be
the use of pale green shades for acces-
sories on dresses of light tar, and darker
greens in pine, sages and moss ; also the
use of palest yellow with gray and fawn
Low picturesque footstools or hassocks-
are covered with heavy Bagdad rugs,
and take the form of a flat Turkish fez,
with a cluster of odd, heavy tasseling in
the centre. They cost from $2 to $2.50.
The death of Maria C. Robbins, at
Brookly, N. Y., will enrich various re-
ligious and charitable institutions to the
extent of $2,000,000, that being the
amount devised by ber for such purposes
as come within their scope.
"As we learn from the New York Tri-
bune, a cut-glass bowl for biscuits
(American crackers) is a pretty addition
to the aiternoon tea table. These come
in a great variety, and some are exceed-
ingly quaint. They have covers, of
course, to protect the biscuits or cake
from dust.
Yellow and white are more fashion-
able just at the moment than any single
color or combination of colors. All the
varied shades are popular. Golden yel-
low, primrose, buttercup, new gold, or-
ange, chamois, maize, Spanish, daffodil,
jonquil, lemon--one and all find special
Miss Kate Miner, one of the vice:
presidents of the Board of Lady Man-
agers of the Columbian Exposition, is a
successful sugar-planter. With her
brother she manages the affairs of a
plantation of 5,000 acres, She is plan-
ning to exhibit an Acadian settlement
and a creole kitchen at the fair,
The spring woolens are unusually
bandsome, far exceeding in beauty those-
of last autumn. Perhaps, however, it.
scarcely is just to compare them with
the winter fabrics, since thespring work
permits so much wider range in both
color and texture, but, placing them be-
side the woolens of a year go, if any-
body can remember that far back, the
improvement is very- noticeable.
The Garrick cape, with a postiche
shoulder cape of another materiol,, 1s
quite stylish just now ; the bottom cape
of Irish frieze or some other shaggy stuff’
cut circular shapeand simply hemmed.
The topis of velvet and beaded so that
it is perfectly stiff, and is edged with a.
narrow band of fur as is also the collar.
Either the under or upper cape may be-
worn alone as the weather moderates.
The Bedford cordings are in single
and clustered ribs and will be made in.
tailor style, with a “bell’’ skirt or one
having the sides lapped over a V-shap-
ed front and held there by pearl buttons;;
the “‘habit’’ basque will have a coat-tail
back, pointed front, high collar, me-
dium tall topped sleeves, revers if desir-
ed, and pearl buttons for the dress front.
and for fastenings at the wrists. This.
material will also be used for boys in
place of pique kilt suits.
Wide strings to be worn untied are
seen on many of the hats, one in Leg-
horn having them six inches wide. Odd
combinations of color prevail, and one
hat was seen yellow,green, helitrope and
old rose, and it. was not at all ugly:
The beef-eater or Tam O'Shanter crown
and the stovepipe are the latest in straw
and lace. Rhine stones and jet buckles
were displayed on many of the hats, but
an absence of feathers was noted. Blos-
soms in all hues prevailed and when we
came away we felt as though for a few
minutes at least we had been in the
land of flowers.
Capes will undoubtedly be a recog-
nized feature of the spring fashions and
like the coats will be very much longer
than those worn during the winter.
Very plain and elegant in form, many
of them the genuine old-fashicned cir-
cular made of heavy cloth, with a hood
lined with some bright color. This.
style looks particularly well in dark
blue lined with copper or tan. A most
charming coat seen at a fashionable:
wedding recently was a biscuit colored
cloth, tight fitting, reaching to the
knees and heavily embroidered with a
jet and a girdle of the same. Watteau
pleats, both back and front, are seen on
the newest long wraps. One cloek of
this style was in heavy black satin, the
yoke of Oriental brocade bordered with
——The United States has the biggest
lakes, the longest rivers, the highest
mountains, the most talkative patriots |
and the greatest divorce record in the
civilized world.
Hr ——————————————
— If you decide, from what you
have heard or read, that you will take
Hood’s Sarparilla, do not he induced to
buy any substitute instead.
a deep frill of the old fashioned thread
lace. Black and white sutin are again
in vogue for wraps and gowns. The
latter is particular suitable for wedding
dresses if the brides are young and slim.
A coat of plumb colored velvet with a.
cape just reaching to the shoulders and
covered with creamy point d'Islande
lace was about the prettiest wrap dis=
played owing to the simple elegance and.
harniony of coloring.