ETT EP TR Aas,
Bellefonte, Pa., April 8, 1892.
WHEN?
We'll read that book, we'll sing that song.
But when? ‘Oh, when the days are long;
When thoughts are free and voices clear;
Some happy time within the year.
The days troop by with noiseless tread,
The song unsung, the book unread.
We'll see that friend, and make him feel
The weight of friendship, true as steel;
Some flowers of sympathy bestow,
But time sweeps on with steady flow,
Until with quick, repreachful tear,
. We lay our'flowers upon his bier.
And still we walk the desert sands,
And still with trifles fill our hands,
While ever just beyound our reach,
A fairer purpose shews to each,
The deeds we have not done, but willed.
Remain to haunt us—unfulfilled.
Boston Journal.
FOR YELLOW GOLD.
When the stage “went light,” they
ran out the small buckboard; but
when there were more than four pas-
sengers, the big mud-wagon was “put
on.” This was a buckboard day, for
there was nota single passenger. What
was more to the point, as the Gold
Butte Mining Company regarded it,
was that under the driver's seat wasa
box with ten thousand in the} newest
of new tens and twenties in it.
The driver had looked very blue
when he drove his four mustangs from
the postoffice, when he took on a very
flat leather bag, which spoke loudly of
the incapacity or disinclination of the
Thimble Spring people for letter writ-
ing—over to the railroad station,where
he was to take on the box. Things
were going all wrong at home. That
was why his brown face looked so hag-
gard ; that was why he held so loosely
the “lines” ; that was why he chewed
so hard on the bit of “plug” in his
mouth.
“Such hard scratchin’ I never seed
afore,” was what he had said as he
had listlessly thrown the mail-bag into
the wagon; can’t git no decent job
now-a-days. Nothin’ ter be had by
prospectin’—tried thet time an’ ag’in ;
ef I git anything, it peters out inside of
a week. I might make a strike over ter
Sand Gulch dut it’s a durned long way
off, an’ me’n Sue an’ the kids hez mov-
ed s0 often 'at we can’ raise nothin’
ter move on now. Why in Sam Hill
did Sue hew ter git that rheumatiz jes’
now, when we’s so hard up, an afore
she weaned the baby? It's a—-
shame. Why can’t Bill git somethin’
ter do ?—great, big, lunk-headed cuss.
EfI bed a brother, poorer'n a cow,
d’ye think I'd go an’ live on him, an’
live on him, till thar warn’t nothin,
ter eat in the house? Sho, Zach
Springer, you'er a blamed fool. Bill
hain’t done that. He ain't ter blame
fer gittin’ his leg broke that time.
Bill's all right, but he’s onlucky. Bin
tryin’ fur a month to git a job an’ can’t
git in nowhere. He's willin ter work ;
he’d stand erotch-deep in the creek, all
day long, washin, out tailen’s, ef he
could make his salt at it. Tried it fer
six weeks, an’ didn’t git enough ter buy
a pair of gum boots. Whoa, Buck-
skin! He'djamn right inter the station
platform ef yer didn’t saw his teeth
out.”
And then the box was taken on, and |
the express agent had something to
say. That ‘something’ was not to
Zach Springer's liking. He chewed
harder than ever on the bit of plug,
and sawed the hard mouths of the mus-
tangs by an uwunecessary yanking of
the reins. It was a positive relief to
be able at lastéo whack his lash down
upon the sides of the nervous brutes
and turn then loose for the forty-mile
run to Gold Butte. Why had he need-
ed a lecture from a hireling of the ex-
press company, and why should that
smooth-jawed agent have looked at
him with such dark suspicion ?
“They think ’cos I got stood up
down ter Black Rocks las’ time I had
a big load o' gold thatI need to be
preached to every time I go out now
with full box. The stogpsiouldered,
desk- settin’ houndz'! I'd like ter see
one 0’ “em handlin’ the ribbons when
thar’s a Winchester lookin’ at em with
an eye as big as a barl-head.. Can’t
tell me they weuldn’t give in! The
sweet-soented, calf-skin boated young
ladies! Thar &in’t a man among
‘em I”
Zach Springer’s indignation was now
in more complete possession of him
than had been his feeling of blueness a
little earlier. What he had delivered
himself of just now was not what he
would have said had he voiced his true
sentiments with reference to the ex-
press agent’s lecture. In between the
words ran the thought that they” had
suspected him of having a hand in the
Black Rocks robbery. It had come to
him before in what he called a “left
hauded” way, and be had had other
outbursts of righteous indignation, but
none in which the upheaval was so
great as that of the present. Had that
been the reason the stage company
bad cut down his pay to “sixty” a
month ? The ebances were that it was ;
it was too blamed mean tor a lot ot
swine, like these people, to he thought,
to come it 80 high-handedly over a poor
man who only wanted his own. And
wouldn’¢ it serve them just right if ——
The white dust of the desert rolled
up from the mustang’s hoofs in little
puffs and sprays of it, powder fine, fol-
lowed the turn of the wheels half way
up, there to be caught by the breeze
and drifted behind ia a long cloud that
followed the buckboard like a haunt-
ing spirit. Sometimes, as the light
breeze shifted, it came back upon the
buckboard and its driver like heavy
though(s on the conscience of a guilty
man.
It would serve them just right! Be.
sides that, only think—ten thousand!
What would the people down in Mexi-
co or Gutemala, where he would fly
know or care if somebody up in far-off
Nevada had dumped a box off his
buckboard and gone back and got it
after a few days--maybe a week? It
would have to be a dark night wouldn't
it? You couldn’t go and get a box like
that in the day time and take it any-
where, for the whole country would be
out looking for the man who had it.
Maybe a month; that would be better.
It would all blow over by that time.
Let's see ; wouldit? Ten thousand was
a good deal. Thosestage-stoppers were
always striking the box on the wrong
day. They never got so much as that
at one haul. In two months, then—
perhaps two months; but it would have
to be well hidden.
And ithe thought stuck to him, de-
spite all attempts to keep it off, though
by the time he had driven the mus-
tangs into Red Canon, his indignation
at having been suspected by the com-
pany had died down. The box at his
feet had taken on a new meaning for
him. It meant smart gowns for the
wife ; it meant a good schooling for
the children. Those five little ones
had had a hard “rustle” of it to get
what few scraps of learning they had
thus far managed to clutch; and, as
for cluthes, they were dressed like ju-
venile scarecrows. Yes all the hard
scratching would be over it he dared
to de what many another hard-pushed
man had done. Resolving the whole
matter down to a plain, clear-cut pro-
position, it was, afterall, simply a ques-
tion of “nerve.”
Here was the place to do it. Right
here, where the high, seraggly rocks,
the patches of sage-brush. It would
be as well concealed as though buried
in six feet of earth. The buckboard
had reached the top of a long down-
grade. Zach put on the brake-handle.
As if about to take a plunge into ice-
cold water he reached down for the
box. But wait a bit. He took off his
big sombrero and hung it on a project-
ing rock. Then flashing out his six-
shooter, he sent a bullet through the
brim of the hat, which he then replac-
ed on his head. Though it had been
hot enough when he started out from
Thimble Spring, there seemed to be .a
chill in the air just now. Would they
believe the story that he would have to
concoct, even though he showed them
the hole in the hat-brim ? What would
he care whether they did or not ? They
already suspected him. If he had the
name, he might as well have the game.
He looked at a spot where the sage-
brush clustered thickest, and made a
mental throw or two in a tentative way,
in order to ‘‘get the distance.”
Then he laid two nervous bands on
the box. He gave a little tug. Lord,
how heavy it was! Could it be tossed
over there, after all? It might have to
be carried. He lifted it upon the seat.
“Via Thimble Spring Stage Line.”
What was the sense in putting on such
a direction as that? It was the only
way it could go. The only way. And
that way was now clesed, for he was
about to—-
“God, kain’t they trust you—you,
Zach Springer. Kain’t they trust Old
Zach ?” he burst out hoarsely. “Yes,
but why don’t they do as any other de-
cent minin’ comp’ny does—turn their
their stuff into the bank at Frisco, ar-
ter it's minted ? What do they want
on it up thar?”
Well, afte: all, that was their busi-
ness. But he couldn’t be trusted.
What would Bill say? Bill was an
honest man. He would blush with
shame every time his brother's name
was mentioned after that—for, of course
he would know. Sue would never sus-
pect. Any kind of a story would bam-
boozle her. Bill was smart, He
could put two and two together as
any man in the country: And yet Bill
himself was a little reckless sometimes.
He bad been acting very queer of late,
and had been over to Johnsor’s a good
deal drinking and playing cards with
the boys. That would not do. Bill
must be looked after. He was only a
young fellow—a mere boy, even if he
had been trying to raise a mustache
lately. Yes. Bill was a good deal
younger than he. Why, he remember-
ed well the day he was born, when
they took him in to show him his new
baby brother. He used toe carry Bill
all around, and he was the first one to
stand him on his legs and try to make
him walk. He remembered how it
used to burt his own head when Bill
got & knock by falling out of his high
chair. Bill was just as much to him
now as ever, and those knocks which
and the weaknesses of his nature were
giving him now hurt him just as badly
—worse, perhaps, than they did Broth-
er Bill.
What would Bill say ?
He laid his hands upon the box
again. It would be safe enough be
hind the rocks there under the sage-
brush—as safe as if
“Git up, thar, ye! Git, Buckskin!
Git, old Gabe! Ye lazy critters.
G’lang!” And down came the long lash
on the dust-covered backs of the mus:
tangs, and off down the long grade
they ran, making the dust fly in the
canon as it never flew before. For
Zach had grasped the reins in a grip of
iron, and both his big cowhide boots
planted firmly on the box.
“This ’ere is what I call goin’ helly-
ty split!” he said, ten minutes later,
as they were still flying down the grade.
“But I lost some time with a blam-
ed-fool notion that orter a ben licked
for ever thinkin’ on a minit. Wol,
the mustangs got a good rest. Makin’
up fer it now, though. They’ll soon
be in a lather. I'll git the half-way
house in a quarter of an hour, and
then I'll take a good horn. I feel
kinder nervous yit. That ’ere box is a
durned heavy load on a man’s mind.
s’pose the sup’rintendent up to Gold
Butte is worryin’ about it, too. Never
mind, ol’ feller, you'll see that stuff
stowed away in yer safe afcre sun-
down.
“What's this? A hold-up sure as
shootin |”
Out from bekind a tall rock a man,
with a piece of dark calico over his
face and a very large Winchester in
hand, had suddenly sprung, and the
muzzle of the rifle looked right into
Zach’s big, round eyes. The brake
scraped the wheels and made the sparks,
fly. The mustangscame to a sudden
stand. There was no getting by that
Winchester.
“I reckon you've got the drop on me,
stranger,” the driver coolly made re-
mark. “Stick up my hands? In Course
I will, ef you insist upon it; But I tell
yer these ‘ere mustangs is mighty skit-
tish, an’ it’s on ther down-grade. So
yer needn’s shoot ef they start up, fer
it'll be yer own fault. I 8'pose yer -.ar-
ter this ’ere box. Throw it out? It's
too blamed heavy fer that. Ye'll hev
ter give us a lift.” td
The man with the gun had said noth-
ing; but the subtleties of the holding
up process were not soZine but that
Zach understood every wave of the
strangei’s hand and every shrug of his
shoulders, when the waves and shrugs
meant anything. Zach had been held
up before. He of the calico mask did
not step forward at once. In this sug-
gestion that he should assist in taking
off the box he seemed to suspect some
trick. But one of Zach’s hands was
held aloft and the other, with the four
reins in it, was on the level of his
shoulder. The man edged up to the
buckbeard, exchanged the weapon
which he presented at Zach’s head tor
a six-shot revolver.
“Thanks, stranger,” said Zach, with
forced merriment. “I never like to
have one 0’ them air long things p'inted
at me, They sthoot too durn straight.
Now, here ye are
With his foot he shoved the box
along till it was near the edge of the
wagoa.
“Thar itis, help yerself; but ye’ll
find it a blame heavy load ter pack, ef
yer goin’ far—over forty pound.
The robber’s fingers grasped the box
nervously.
“A green un at the biz,’ thought
Zach : “mebbe thar’ll be an openin’
here yit.”
The robber pulled and hauled at the
box, but it would not budge, for it was
caught on a nail in the bottom of the
wagon. In his feverish anxiety to se-
cure the gold, he lowered the revolver
a little and grasped the box with both
bands. Swiftly Zach's right hand fell
to his hip and out he whipped his
bright-barreled pistol.
“Got the dead drop, stranger! It's
no go?” he shouted. “Put that wea-
pon down, you fool!’—for the man
was raising his pistol. “You won't?
Then take that.”
A flash, a report, and back fell the
robber without a moan. His fingers
clawed the dust for a moment, as if he
were grasping for a hold on life. But
the hold was not to be had, and he gave
it up, and lay there quietly in the dust.
The driver shoved his pistol into its
holster, and wiped the sweat from his
brow. It had been a close shave for
the box and a closer shave for him.
“Takes a purty keen un to git erway
with ol’ Zach, arter all,” he chuckled,
springing lightly from the buckboard,
while a broad smile lit up his brown
face. “This ‘ere means a big raise from
ther stage;comp’ny an’a hundreder two
from the Gold | Butte folks. I guess
they’ll think the ol’ man’s about right
arter this. Hooray for hooray! my
stock riz! It's way up ter a hundred
an’ fifty: Whoop-ee! Haw-haw-haw!”
He stooped down over the dead man
and lifted the bit of cloth from his face.
“Almighty God! It's Bill I'"--San
Francisco Arganaut.
WorLp’s FAIR NotEs :—The appro-
priations made by different States and
Territories for their special exhibites
now aggregate $3.180,000 ; those of for-
eign countries, as far as reported, more
than $4,500,000.—1It is proposed to
run from New York to Chicago, at the
time of the dedication of the exposition
buildings, ten special trains, ten min-
utes apart, with elaborate decoration
and music with each. Plans are also in
preparation for imposing ceremonies in
New York, including a street pageant,
precede and follow this triumphal pro-
cession. More than 7600 carloads of
building material have been received at
the Exposition grounds. The shoe
and leather industry will erect a separ-
ate building for its exhibit, at a cost of
$100,000.—A $100,000 music hall,
160x260 feet, is to be built.——A con-
tract has been made for 5000 to 6000
electric arc lamps. About 100,000 in-
candescent electric lights will also be
used.
“What a pity it is his face is all pimples 3
He'd be very fine looking if *twasn’t for that,’
Said pretty Miss Vere, with a smile at the
dimples
Reflected from under the nobby spring hat—
As she looked at herself in the glass softly
sighing,
That she had forthe young man a tender re-
Tiaras the least need of dying—
for every one knew 1t. “His beauty is
marred by the frightful red blotches all
over his face. I wonder if he couldn’t
take something to cleanse his blood and
drive them away ?”’
He heard what she said about looks.
It hurt his feelings, but he couldn’t de-
ny she told the truth. He remembered
a friend whose face used to be as bad as
his, Ithad become smooth and-clear,
He went to him and asked how the
change had been brought about. “Sim-
ply by using Dr. Pieree’s Golden Medi-
cal Discovery,” was the reply. Take
that, and I'll warrant you to get rid of
your pimples.” He did so
His face became healthy and clear,
And next week he'll be married to pretty Miss
Vere.
—— Miss Ann Piper, of Glynn coun-
ty, Ga., is in the female hermit business
She liveslike “Jack all Alones” and
has only spoken to three persons during
the past sixteen years, Nor has she
ever seen a train, though the railroad
passes within a couple of miles of her
home. Young men don’t waste their
time trying to dance to that piper.
La GRIPPE SUCCESSFULLY TREATED.
—“T have just recovered from a second
attack of the grip this year,” says Mr.
Jas, O. Jones, publisher of the Leader,
Mexia, Texas. “In the latter case I
used Chamberlain’s Cough Remedy, and
I think with considerable success, only
being in bed a. little over two days,
against ten days for the first attack.
The second attack Tam satisfied would
have been equally as bad as the first but
for the use of this remedy, as I had to
go to bed in about six hours after being
‘struck’ with it, while in the first case I
was able to attend to business about two
days before getting ‘down.’”” 50 cent
bottles for sale by F. P. Green, Drug-
gist.
-fident presumption.
1 editor, thoughtfully.
Parentage in Education,
The Responsibility of Dealing With an Unfold-
ing Mind.
The lawyer and the surgeon must sta-
dy their profession ; the merchant n.ust
know the laws of commerce; the wme-
chanic must learn his trade ; it is only
parents who accept duties that they are
quite ignorant of, and’ who give life
ere they have comprehended the laws
that govern it. Does any of our schools
and colleges include in their ‘course’
special instruction on the duties of fath-
ers and mothers ? And yet the world,
at its present stage of progress, ought
not to leave its children to chance—to
ignorant mother and careless nurses and
all the unconsilered cruelties born of
ignorance and want of thought.
There is something so pitiful in see-
ing a young, thoughtless mother with
an unfolding soul and body to deal
with. What no knowledge is sufficient
for, her inexperience acceptsjwith a con-
Is it any wonder
that without consideration the natural
emotions of children are checked, and
their sense of right wounded? They
are authoratively forbidden to play,
though play is the first poetry of jlife.
They are told “‘not to play with other
children ;” though only children--or
very good men and women—are fit to
play with children. They are bidden to
do things with either threats or bribes,
They are told medicine is not bitter.
when it is bitter ; or that something
will not hurt, when it does hurt. Pa-
rents insist on their children’s truthfal-
ness, and yet set them constant exam-
ples of social and domestic equivocation.
They are reproved for crying under
pain, or for being angry under a sense
of injustice, when every day they see
their parents give place to unreasonable
anger or impatience with trifling annoy-
ances.
Intellectually the ignorance ot pa-
rents is frequently as fatal to the proper
developement of children. Primers are
put into little hands, that ought to
know only the hoop or the skipping
rope ; for no child wants books until it
has exhausted the wonders of the house,
the streets and the woods. What can a
primer teach a child in comparison with
a mother who answers patiently the
never-ending questions of a curious
child? Is she making bread? What
a story she may tell of the wheat-fields
and the mill! A pinch of salt may
make a fairy tale of mines and miners.
The log of wood, the bit of coal, the
lump of sugar, the tea, the spice, the
bunch of raisins—what wondYous things
can be told of them! What does a
child want with a book until these
household sales are exhausted? And
the store-windows and the men building
houses and the wonders of the sea coast?
Truly, the mother is the only primer
the child needs until it is at least seven
years old ; and yet how often its ques-
tions are met with an injnction “not to
bother” or a command to “go to
nurse.” ]
And yet children are the hope of the
world. They come to us bearing gifts
for posterity, Is it possible, then, for
tathers and mothers to be too sensible of
the gravity and the importance of their
stewardship for the future ?
“Landscape in Sepia.”
The Conversation that Floored the Brilliant
Art Critic.
A great deal has been said and written
about the woes which the compositor in-
flicts upon his helpless victims, und,
speaking, I know that they are many
varied ; but yet “the gifted author”
has occasionally to put up with a great
deal of annoyance from higher powers
than the poor ‘““‘comp.” as the the fol-
lowing experience of an intimate friend
of mine will prove.
He was the art critic, and he had just
sent out an unusually brilliant account
of a recent exhibition of paintings to
the desk editor,who, not having made
much of a study of art, was naturally
unfamiliar with the language of the
studio, but was preparing to wrestle
with his difficult task. He was new at
the work, and it was this enigmati-
cal sentence: ‘‘A Landscape in Sepia.’
‘Landscape in Sepia!’ shouted the
scribe, addressing the sporting editor,
who was busily engaged in describing a
spirited set-to between two favorite
light weights. “Where the deuce is
Sepia?"
“Don’t know,” answered the sporting
“Never heard of
the place. Sepia can’t be in the United
States, I must have heard of it, surely.
It must be in Syria somewhere
“I don’t blieve the place exists at
all,” snapped the puzzled genius of the
desk. “I think—-"
A heavy fall in the adjoining room
broke off the conversation here, and a
hurried investigation revealed the art
critic in strong convulsions on the floor.
He had heard the entire conversation,
and was conveyed to his lodging place
in an ambulance.
EE CTT—C A.
— The spring of all seasons in the
year, is the one for making radical
changes in regard to health. During
the winter, the system becomes to a cer-
tain extent clogged with waste, and the
blood loaded with impurities, owing to
lack of exercise, close confinement in
poorly ventilated shops and homes, and
other causes. This is the cause of the
dull, sluggish, tired feeling so general
at this season and which must be over-
come, or the health may be entirely
broken down. Hood’s Sarsaparilla has
attained the greatest popularity all over
the country as the favorite Spring Med-
icine. It expels the accumulation of
impurities through the bowels, kidneys,
liver, lungs and skin. gives to the blood
the purity and quahty necessary to
good health and overcomes that tired
feeling.
EL —————————
——The edition of Walt Whitman's
“Selected Poems,” chosen and edited by
Arthur Stedman, was in the binders
hands at the time of his death. The
poet was occupied shortly before that
event in giving his last wishes and final
approval with respect to it.
——Look out for counterfeits! See
that you get the genuine Dr. Bull's
Cough Syrup ! Do nct let the dealer sell
you some “just as good,” but insist upon
getting the genuine with the Bull's
Head trade-mark on the wrapper.
Proclamation.
In the Name and by the Authority of the Com-
monwealth of Pennsylvania.
The beneficent effects consequent up-
on a due observance of ‘‘Arbor Day”
have been witnessed with interest and
pleasure by the citizens of Pennsyl-
vania. The planting aad culture of
trees and flowers cannot be too highly
commended, nor its great importance
too early impressed upon the youthful
mind. Considered from a sanitary, in-
tellectual, wsthetic and financial point
of view, it should be encouraged by
every citizen who has an abiding inter-
| est in the future welfare of the Com-
monwealth.
Now,therefore, I, Robert E. Pattison,
Governor of the said Commonwealth in
accordance with custom, which has re-
ceived the official sanction of our Gen-
eral Assembly, whereby the Governor
is requested to appoint annually a day
to be designated as Arbor Day in Penn-
sylvania, and to recommend by procla
mation to the people, on the days na-
med, the planting of trees and shrubbery
in the public school grounds and along
the public highways throught the State,
do hereby designate and proclaim
Thursday, the 14th day of April, A.D,
1892, and Friday, the 6th day of May,
A. D. 1892, to be observed as Arbor
Days in Pennsylvania.
The selection of either of the above
designated days is left to the deseretion
of the people in the various sections of
the Commonwealth, each locality ob-
serving that day which is deemed to be
most favorable on account of climatic
conditions.
I call upon the people to lay aside for
a season the habitual activities of the
day, and devote sufficient time thereof
to plant a forest, fruit or ornamental
tree along the public highways and
streams, in private and public parks,
about the school house, in gardens and
on the farms, thus promoting the pleas-
ure, profit and prosperity of the people
of the State, providing protection
against floods and storms. securing
health and comfort, increasing tha
which is beautiful and pleasing to the
eye, comforting to physical life and ele-
vating to the mind and heart.
“Gifts that grow are best,
Hands that bless are blest,
Plant ;—Life does the rest;
Heaven and earth belps him who plants a
tree,
And its work its own reward shall be.”
Given under my hand and the
[sEAL] Great Seal of the State this
twenty-sixth day of March, in
the year of our Lord one thous-
and eight hundred and ninety-
two, and of the Commonwealth
the one hundred and sixteenth.
Rust, E. PATTISON,
WM. F, HARRITY, Governor,
Secretary of the Commonwealth.
——————
A Syrian Wedding.
The First That Has Been Witnessed in America.
A Syrian wedding, the first of the
kind ever witnessed in this country, was
celebrated at St. Louis on a recent after-
noon, in accordance with the usuages
that prevail in Syria. In America it
would be called a reception, but it dif-
fered from the ordinary receptions in
thatit was strictly for Syrians. The
groom was Kalel Wasoff and the bride
was Adlaid Miken. After being mar-
ried by a Catholic priest at St. Mary's
church, the couple, in company with
about seventy-five of their countrymen,
men and women, proceeded to celebrate
the event. There were beer, wine and
eatables in abundance. A part of the
programme was the spraying of perfume
from a cologne bottle over the crowd,
every newcomer getting a supply of the
odors in the face. The ladies present of
whom there was quite. a number, in-
dulged in a doleful chant in the Syrian
language, which lasted a couple of hours
It was explained to a reporter as being
a method of congratulating the bride in
her new state. The reception lasted
until late in the afternoon. Many of
the participants who came from a Syrian
Colony in the neighborhood were un-
able to speak the English language.
All present seemed to enjoy themselves.
——Mrs. Bramwell Booth wears a big
scoop hat, parts her hair in the middle,
draws it down back of her ears in the
most unbecoming manner, covers her
eyes witha pair of very large goggles
with heavy rims and then sallies forth
to do her work as a star salvationist.
She is very successful, and those who
hear ner talk say that in spite of her ap-
parent efforts to disguise her good looks,
she is pretty for all that and wins souls
by her looks as well as by her words.
STRENGTH AND HeAaTH.—If you are
not feellng strong and healthy, try El-
ectric Bitters. If “La Grippe” has left
you weak and weary, use Electric Bit-
ters. This remedy acts directly on Liv-
er, Stomach and Kidneys, gently aiding:
those organs to perform their fuwctions.
If yon are afflicted with sick Headache,
you will find speedy and permanet relief
by taking Electric Bitters. One trial
will convince you that this is the reme-
dy you need, Large bottles only &50c
at Parrish’s Drug Store.
——Judge Tuley has given a big lift
to the promoters of the will of John
Crear, who bequeathed $4.300,000 for a
bublic library in Chicago and for sun-
dry charitable institutions of tha city.
But his sustaining the will does not end
the fight to upset it. Eight anxious
and disappointed cousins will now try
to persuade the Supreme Court that
their rights are superior to the testator’s
wishes or the library needs.
INACURATE JOURNALISM. — “You
can’t believe everything the news pipers
say,” said Mrs. Wayback on her return
from a visit to the city.
“How is that ?”’ asked a neighbor.
“Dll tell you. I read in a society pa-
per in the morning that everybody was
out of town, and I was nearly jammed
to death in the crowd in a bargain store
the samo day.”’— New York Press.
——1I was a sufferer from catarrh for
fifteen years, with distressing pain over
my eyes. I used Ely’s Cream Balm
with gratifying results. Am apparently
cured.—Z. C. Warren, Rutlang, Vt.
The World of Women.
| Black kid gloves with a wide stitch
| ing of “Knickerbocker yellow,” are
something new.
The Queen of Greece is the best Royal
needlewoman in Europe she cuts out.
and makes most of her own undercloth-
ing.
Mrs. Croly, (Jennie June,) the editress.
of the Homemaker magazine, is a slen-
der, well-formed woman, with pink.
cheeks and snow-white hair.
The style of dressing the hair is chang-.
ing rapidly, and it will not be long be
fore the most of it will be drawn back
from the forehead and turned up over a
small cushion, with atew fine little
tendrills curling down over the face,
mostly on the temples, and drawn up.
from the nape of the neck.
——Some of the new corselets grow
longer on the hips and are sloped away
in deep points, which gives a slender ap-
pearance to the figure; in others hip.
pieces are added and are laid in one box.
plait with side plaits on each side ; and
others still are cut squarely just below
the bust and are buttoned across the
waist.
Small boys are still wearing the
velvet jackets, white sailor collars and.
finely tucked shirts. For a driving suit,
dark brown short trouers are worn, with
a hox coat of tan-faced cloth. The coat
will be stitched with brown, four rows
of the stitching forming the cuff. Rig
pearl buttons are used and there is a
deep turn-over collar. Leggings of tan
leather are a necesslty,
The favorites seems to be thetan cloth
jackets, tailor made, overlapped seams,
immense pearl buttons and linings of
either shot or brocaded silks. Some
very swell girls were trying the mannish
sack coats with the plain-full backs and
they looked very stylish over the trail-
ing skirts and topped off by a little gem
in spring millinery. After all it is the
wearer makes the coat.
In cloaks and wraps the three-quarter
length reign supreme. Wraps are
braided embroidered, covered with jet,
adorned with lace and ribbon, in fact,
made a3 beautiful as anyone could desire
The assortment is unlimited and you,
can pick and choose from the natty tail~
or made broadcloth jackets with over-
lapped seams to the dressy carriage
mant es that are too elaborate for every-
day use.
She isa hard worker, from pleasure
and not necessity, as she has a snug for-
tune laid away from past efforts. She is.
a great admirer of the histronic art and
her only craze is the theatre going. She
attends many of the first night perfor-
mances. Her daughter, Vida, is a clev-
er member of one of Frohman'’s success.
ful stock companies, and although lack-
ing her mother’s talent for the profession.
which she has adopted.
Another pretty gown is of gray
cloth a small design in black scatter-
ed through it. The skirt is plain with a
deep turned-back hem. A rather novel
touch is given by two slashes in the front
a little below the waist, which are fin-
ished off by rows of stitching. The
waist fits smoothly over the shoulder
and bust, but is gathered at the waist.
line. Ithasa black velvet collar, and.
two bands of black velvet extend from
the shoulders toa point at the waist.
The sleeve are full puffs.
Quaintness is the prevailing fashion,
for children’s gowns. The more they
imitate their
more truly fashionable they are. The
“Granny Frock’ is in the height of fa-
vor. The simple little dress is of pale
apple green pongee silk, made all in one
with a deep ruflle across the bottom. A
tiny rufile in the neck takes the place of
a collar. The sleeves are full with a
high puff, which is edged with a ruffle.
A soft silk sash of the palest of pink is
tied so thatit gives the waist a very
short effect. The long ends hangd own in
front.
The waists of girls’ frocks are of nat-
ural length and round, or with a slight
point in front, and are buttoned or hook-
in the back. High waists are mostly
mace with a yoke orto represent a
guimpe, hence low waits to wear with
rea) guimpes are in greater favor than
ever. The material is put on full over
a fitted lining, giving the effect of a
seamless waist, and showing only under
arm seams. Very full trimmings are
then added as revers that widen in dee
epaulets, gathered on the tops of the
sleeves, ora bertha frill around the
shoulders below a poke oron a low
round waist, or else a tull gathered bib
of lace hanging from a high collar
band.
One of the mcst remarkable women
in New York to-day is Mrs. Rhoda
Holmes Nicholls, who has a studio on
Twentieth street. She is vice president.
of the New York Water Color Club,
and bas contributed the finest water
color sketches to the different domestic
and foreign exhibitions, of any woman
in the world.
She made her name under Camerano,
the eminent Italian painter, when in
Europe some years ago. Mrs. Nicholls
is picturesque looking and has a strik-
ing personality. She has sleepy, dreamy
abstract, brown eyes and drooping chin;
her voice is low, intense and langorous.
She is a wonderfully magnetic woman
and takes great delight in stealing sketch
ers of the passengers 1n the elevated and
horse cars, as they journey to and fro
from all parts of the city.
A spring gown, to call forth the most
enthusiastic of superlatives from the
woman who delights in pretty gowns
and superlatives, is a ereation of pale
chocolate-colored crepon and olive-green
velvet. There is a sham underskirt of
velvet, over which the crepon is laid in
folds from the waist. On the left side
the cloth 1s cut off quite short and shows
the velvet. Three rows of embroidery
in olive green and gold trim the over
skirt. The bodice is an elaborate affair.
The lining is tight fitting. A deep
round yoke of the velvet is laid over it.
To this the crepon is gathered with a
little fulness. A deep band of embroid-
ery outlines the yoke and passes over
the shoulders. A deep corselette of vel-
vet finishing the bodice. It is so wide
that the crepon looks merely like a puff
between 1t and the yoke. Full sleeves
of crepon are gathered into a deep vel-
vet cuff on the back of which is a band
of embroidery.
great-grandmother the.
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