Democratic atdjn
Bellefonte, Pa., Oct. 14,1892
For the WarcumAN.
THE FUTURE.
M. V. THOMAS.
Oh ! who would draw aside the mystic veil
That hides the future from our curious eyes?
And who is here, that wishes to behold
‘What danger in the road before him lies ?
Oh! who would care to contemplate the grief
That must be ours ere we can go from here ?
Behold the spectre looming from afar?
. Torob us of our strength ere we are near.
If we could see the pain that we must bear,
The cares we must assume, tears that must
flow;
We would our terror-stricken hearts grow
faint—
Long ere that time sink neath our weight of
woe.
Could we but see what boulders bar the way,
What deep abysses, there, before us lis—
Our courage would take flight; and how soon we
Helpless and weak, would lay us down and
die.
If we could see the joys that will be ours
When these onr present years will een have
passed ;
Anticipation soon would make them, old.
These flowers of life whose freshness cannot
last.
If we could see all things before they come ;
No new surprise would we find on our way,
No longer would life's wayside flowers be
bright.
T*‘would be one changeless scene from day to-
day.
Oh! Wisdom great! that hides from us our
fate ;
Oh! Mercy kind that will not let us see !
The wondrous things that we must know and
feel,
Till from the bonds of earth we are set free.
———————
ON A FIELD SABLE,
BY KATHARINE FESTETITS.
Twelve o'clock had sounded some
minutes ago, and Miss Virginia Yerby
sitting at her desk in the Patent Office,
had pushed aside her “briefs”? for the
time, and was assuming to eat her
lunch, All around her other,clerks of
the division were really eating theirs
—-gay young girls laughing and chat-
tering over their chocolate e'clairs ;
stout practical matrons disposing
stolidly of thick boarding-house sand-
wiches; thin nervous-looking spinsters
nibbling bakers’ trash as a mere ac-
companiment to the sirong creamless
tea which they brewed for themselves
in little clubs of two or three over a
gas fixture, and upon which they
depended for the factious strenth which
was to pull them through the long
dragging tacks of the afternoon.
Allof them seemed to be enjoving
the brief “interval for refreshments”
more than Miss Yerby. She bit into
her roll with an abstracted air of not
knowing whether it was tougher than
usual or rot, and her glance reverted
modily from time to time to an unop-
ened letter which lay on the desk be-
fore her—unopened because its con-
tents were easily conjectured that the
girl seemed in no haste to verify them,
but went on nibbling her roll, the look
of care meanwhile not unmixed with a
certain sad annoyance deepened in her
grave gray eyes and about her sweet
firm lips-
She folded up her little fringed
napkin presently with a suppressed
sigh, and replaced it in her shabby
black silk bag : all the “lady clerks”
brought their luncheon to the office in
black silk bags, more or less shabby,
according to the degree of remoteness
from Christmas or from their seyeral
birthdays. Then, with a resolute look
as of one who prepares to meet the in-
evitable disagreeable, she took up the
letter and broke the old-fashioned
splotchy seal,
“My Duar DavenrEr,” it began, and
the sight of the tremulous handwriting
feebly traced in ladylike pale ink soft-
ened the girls resolute look with a
touch of tender patience—*I write these
few lines to inform you that I am not
enjoying good health, and I hope it
will not find you the same. My ruma-
tiem distresses me dreadfully this win-
ter, and it seems as if this house grew
damper all the time. Like its pore
mistress, it is getting 61d and no ac-
count—wore out in the service of oth-
ers, If I could afford to keep better
fires, it would not be so bad, but I
don’t think of indulging myself in these
hard times. Ab, itis sadly different
from what it was in my dear Father's
day. Every Virginia gentleman in
those times had as much woods land as
farming, and the great logs used to be
piled up to the jaws in kitchen, parlor
and chamber. But those times, is
past, and you must not think I am
complaining. No. I've learned in my
declining days to be grateful for any
mercies, no matter iow small ; and I
trust, my dear Ginnie, that you too are
cultivating a spirit of thankfulness to
your heavenly Parent. I hope your
appetite is good ; but then you have I
am pleased to think, everything to
tempt it at the fashionable “boarding-
house where I see you are still staying,
in spite of the high charges. My own
is but pore. Friends tell me If I was
to coax it with beef tea, oysters, fresh
eggs, and the like soft nourishing food
—but I never was one to pamper my-
gelf. | They say also that I ought to
have a bit of fur for my neck, now that
the cold weather is coming on, "But I
tell them my daughter needs all the
fine clothes to keep up with gay society
in Washin’ton and my text is, ‘The
Lord bath given, and the Lord hath
taken away ; blessed be the name of
the Lord.” Do take care of yourself,
my dear Ginnie; don’t wear your
stren’th’ out’ working for that miser-
able black Republican ‘gov’'ment, If
it wasn’t for them, we'should be living
still in the midst of our broad ances
terl acres, instead of my pinching
in one or tworoomsof the old house,
while the rest moulders to decay; and | | ‘Never mind,” ; :
answer to her own vain . conjeetyre ; |
a low-down carpet-bagger bas g
morgidge on everything except the
family graveyard, where I expect
soon to be laid beside your dear Pa.
It's a disgrace to the proud
old name of Yerbr that one of
its female descendants should be
working for her living at all; so don’t
give those tyrants any more than you
have to ; and take time at the office to
write oftener to ;
“Your Faithful and Devoted Mother.
“PERMELIA STANHOPE YERBY.”
A dark red color had slowly paled
the clear pallor of Virginia Yerby’s
cheek as she read, and now as the Jet-
ter dropped from her fingers, the usual
mixture of feelings—shame, pity, an-
ger, surprise—consequent apon most of
the epistles from that source agitated
her loyal young soul. “Mother |” she
said to herself, with an almost bitter
intonation of the name which lingers
so lovingly on most girls’ lips. “How
can she bring herself to write to me so,
when she knows how I pinch myself
to send hier every dollar I can? And
those old Tabbies who set her on to
goad me in this way know it too.
Heavens! I give her nearly half my
salary; on the rest I have to live at a
fashionable boarding-house- Poor
mother! If she could only see its
shabby gentility, taste of thedainties of
its table—that roll, for instance, that
I've just worked my way through !
And my dress—well,” with a shrug of
her gracetul shoulders. “I don’t know
anybody else whose grograin-gray'lasts
quite go long as mine. I walk back
and forth to save car fares; I shut my
eyes to the temptations of violets and
caramels ; a church sociable is the
wildest expression of gayety in my life;
my one only piece of selfishness—'
But here some swift soft recollection
coaxed away for a moment the look of
hurt protest from the girl's face. It
returned, however, with deepened in-
tensity as she went on with her bitter
inward colloquy. *The few dollars I
squeeze from my actual necessities,
monthly,to help make that possible one
of these days—I suppose it will
have to go too. And yet, for Heaven's
sake, what does she do, what can she
do, with all the money I send her ?
No houserent to pay, the garden
worked on shares and full of vegetable
the orchard of fruit, old Aunt Thany
there to look after "poultry and eggs,
her clothes Jasting forever—what can
she want with more money ? And
why doesn’t she have all ‘the fires
and all the oysters she wants, when
there are the woods and the creeks
shore right at hand ?”
Miss Yerby sat looking straight be-
fore her, perplexed, annoyed, pained,
for alittle ; then, with an effort, she
cleared the cloudy flush from her
face. “Oh, well, poor mother!” she
sighed, ‘She has a great deal to try
her all these. last hard years since
father died. She shall never have an-
other wish ungratified that I can help.
I am young yet, and he—he is not a
bit old. We can wait a little
longer.”
She picked up her letter, put it back
into the envelope, and that into her
bag, and then addressed herself with
determined steadiness to her afternoons
work. It seemed perhaps a littie dull-
er, drier, drearier than usual, this
breathless winding in and out of the
mazes of deeds, assignments, transfers,
in searchot clews adroitly hidden in
thick meshes of legal verbiage ; but she
plodded on with patient perseverance,
until at length four o’clock struck the
welcome signal of dismissal. Miss
Yerby rose from her desk with the
others, arranged and locked it, and fell
in with the crowd on their way to the
dressing-room. She did not linger to-
day for even the ordinary brief kindly
chat with her fellows, She avoided
the enforced contact of the elevator,
and took her way alene down the long
steep flights of stairs, throngh the
great pillared portico, down the broad
outer marble steps, and so out into the
wide windy street.
The dust was blowing there as if
from all quarters of the earth at once z
bits of paper, sticks, and withered
leaves were whirled upon the Novem-
ber blast. Miss Yerby shivered com-
ing out from the close, heated office.
Her coat was none too thick, and dat-
ing two winters back, was not provided
with the “storm collar” which to-day
oflers such grateful protection from a
sudden change of weather. She hag
thought of buying a little Astrakhan
tippet with which to supplement it.
The long soft boas into whose
caressing warmth she noticed so many
fair young throats nestling were of
course not to be inspired to. She
found herself, as she drew her black
silk muffler closer about her neck, re-
calling involuntarily her mother’s fay-
orite winter garment, the large double
Paisley shawl of finest cream-white
wool, bordered with richly woven ar-
abesques in soft dull dovecolors, a relic
of ancient elegance which the old-
fashioned gentlewoman preferred to
any stiff, modern, businesslike imita-
tion of mannish attire in the way of
Jacket, coat, or ulster.
“Females in my day,” she would
say, with a little brindling dignity,
did not try to look like men, Ginnie,
They preferred their own graceful
feminine attire ; and the men, I think
prefered it for them.”
Virginia thought it very likely they
did. “Bat fancy us office-tramps tak-
about our shoulders in the dark harry-
ing winter mornings, or to keep them
from being torn of our backs in a met-
ropolitan car between four ‘and 4ve
o'clock of an afternoon I".
Now, however, as she remembered
how ladylike and how comfortable her
mother always looked in this garment
of by-gone elegance, how softly and
warmly the creamy folds gathered
themselves about the fair, slim wither-
ed throat and met there the fall of the
large black thread-lace. veil, which
was another relic, of better davs, she
could not help a puzzled” wonder as to
what need or place” could be for
“a bit of fur” in addition, “°° °° ;
she aid again, in
ing time to drape shawls jartistically |
“whether she needs it or not, she
wants it, and she shall have what she
wants £0 long as I can get it for her,”
And pulling herself together with an-
other little irrepressible shiver, as the
sharp wind came whirling round the
corner, she turned into Ninth Street
and walked briskly along the busy
thoroughfare to the Avenue.
She had some trouble in finding
what she wanted. Only something
soft and fine would suit either her
mother or her mother’s Paisley ; and
this, in fur, meant money, of which
Miss Yerby had none too much. She
settled at last upon a small sable col-
lar, with the head of the little animal
serving to hold the fastening loop, It
was not what she wanted ; shethought
it looked rather jaunty and youthful 3
but it was the most satisfactory thing
to be got for the sum she could ‘spend;
and as it was, it absorbed not only the
projected Astrakhan collar, but the
sum she had never failed since she had
been “promoted” to put by for a cer-
tain secret purpose, which, until it ap-
proached fulfillment more nearly, she
hadnot been able to speak of to a
mother who was just a little “pecu-
liar.”
“Never mind,” said Miss Yerby
once more to herself, shutting reso-
lutely out of her mind the vision of a
parlor rug, a dining-table, a set of
kitchen furniture, a hundred things
that were wanted for the furnishing of
the little house, the first payment on
which “he” was almost ready to make.
Aloud she said : “No, you needn't
putitup. The wind is sharp this af-
ternoon. I'll just wear it home, I
reckon.”
“Ard very becoming itis to you,
miss,” remarked the shop-girl, pleased
at having made the sale.
Virginia was honest enough to own
to herself thatit was as she glanced
in the mirror, and saw how the soft
shaded brown of the fur toned in with
the creamy pallor of her cheek and the
hazel tints of her eyes and hair. It
brought a certain girlish pleasure to
her face. She nodded, smiling, the
girl as she walked away ; and as she
reached the street, after threading her
way through crowding throngs of
“office shoppers,” lo! there before her
was the sight which is the pleasantest
sight on earth—the face which bright-
ens with joy at your coming. In an-
other minute she was tucked up close
to the side of a tall hat and overcoat,
and a pair of eager brown eyes were
smiling down into hers.
“So! Been treating yourself, have
you, you reckless little woman 9” as
the eyes caught sight of the new pur-
chase. “And not pay-day either, How
ever do you manage it? I'm so glad.
You needed something of the kind ;
and it's awfully chic—shic—whatever
youcallit. Only I don’t know"”—he
whispered this mischievously as he
helped her up on the car platform—
“but I'm jealous of that saucy little
head tucking itself so coolly there un-
der your chin.”
“So warmly, you mean,” laughed
Virginia, nestling the said chin down
into the soft fur. “But you won't
have to suffer from that pet ailment of
yours very long, Edward. It isn’t
mine ; I bought it tor mother.”
“Oh I'* The exclamation was invol-
untary and neutral, but its tone con-
veyed a certain subtle intimation of
what Virginia had before divined—
that her betrothed considered her gen-
erous to her mother at the cost of jus-
tice to herself, and felt even a sense of
personal injury in the fact that she
sacrificed his liking tosee her well
dressed to what he chose to consider
unauthorized exactions on the part of
an elderly lady living in the country,
The car was packed to an indecent
excess, as usual ; the conductor’s ur-
gent cry, “move up front, please I”
was incessant, and Miss Yerby’s com-
panion allowed himself to be pushed
on with the rest of the struggling mass
instead of quietly holding his place by
the corner he had found for her, Vir-
ginia’s eyes followed him with a cer-
tain appealing look, but a fresh entry
of tired humanity presently shut off
even a glimpse ofeach other. Her
stopping-place came before his. It
was almost impossible for him to get
out ; he chose to find it quite 86; and
Mies Yerby was obliged to turn the
corer in the side street on which her
boarding-house stood without so mach
as good-by glance. And it was not
his evening for coming round! The
landlady’s daughter was also “keeping
steady company,” and that young per-
son's mother had blandly suggested
that the “courting couples” should
not intrude upon each other.
“She needn’t ha’ looked so high an’
mighty about it, neither,” she com-
mented afterwards. “I’ve no patience
with the 'ristocratic airs some of these
gov’ment clerks put on. Who cares
how old their fam’lies be? Some of
‘em is old enough theirselves. And it
ain’t everywhere she'd get the use o’
the parlor all to herself three evenin’s
n a week.
Never had that same parlor looked
dingier and tawdrier to Virginia than
it did that same afternoon, as she
glanced in on her way up to her own
sky-chamber ; and even that small re-
fuge, to which she had contrived to
impart something of a homelike look,
wore to-day a bare and forlorn aspect.
She did not take off her things. She
had to go out again to the express-of-
fice, to send off her mother’s tippet,
and she regarded it now a little drear-
ily as she loosed it from her neck and
prepared to make it into'a parcel. “It
wag a foolish thing ‘for me to do, to
wear, it at all,” she said to. herself.
“Of course it is only . nataral that Ed-
ward—when even I—Still I had rath-
er have no secrets from him, déar old
fellow 1’ She tied up the package,’
wrote the address, and went out again
into: the dust'and wind,
dinner and to bed, she took her moth-
éi’s letter ont’ of her pocket ‘to put it
away. A certain bit of cramped writ-
ing crowded into one corner, which
bad escaped ‘her notice before; now
up to the light, she made it out:
“If you should feel as if you could
afford,” it said, ‘to get me gomething
in the way of fur, don’t buy it yourself.
but send me the money. I may change
my mind, and if I don’t Cousin Peggy
Bayly is going to Balt'mer City next
month, and she has such good judg-
ment.
The color flew into Virginia's cheek.
She thrust the leiter into her desk, set
her lips, and got herself into her chilly
ed.
When Miss Yerby arrived at the
office next morning and approached
her desk, she saw lying there another
missive, but not this time with the
palo tremulous superseription and
splotchy wax. It was instead of those
ominous yellow envelopes which no
woman can ever see addressed to her-
self without a certain involuntary con-
striction of the heart. Virginia felt
that sudden tightening about her bos-
om as she opened the envelope with
trembling fingers and read the mes-
sage. The same old story, repeated
generation after generation in the Yer-
by family : “Sudden stroke: No hope
Come at once.
Looking herself as if she had had a
“stroke,” the girl rose, shaking from
the seat into which she had dropped,
and tottered across the floorto the
chief clerk’s desk. Speechless, she
placed the telegram in his hand and
without waiting for a word, turned
and made her way as she could to the
door. She had no intimates among
the ladies of her division. but she had
made no enemies. Glances of wonder
and sympathy followed her from a
dozen pairs of kindly eyes, and one
fresh-faced girl started from her seat as
she passed.
“She has got some dreadful news ;
she looks as if she might drop any
minute. I’m going to see her through,
whatever it is. Just tell him, will
you ?”” she said hurriedly toa com-
panion, and then made her way quick-
ly to the dressing-room.
“Now don’t try to speak, don’t tell
me a thing, dear.” she said, when she
found the stritken girl trying in a
dazed way to get into her hat and
coat. ‘‘Let me button you up, There!
Here are your gloves, and you have
your bag still on your arm. Now
which car do you take ? for Iam going
to see you home,
“No, not home. The depot—Sixth
Street—by way of Baltimore, My
mother—"’
The pale lips moved with difficulty,
the words were indistinct, but the
quick woman's ear caught them.
“Ane you can get along without
going home first ? You have money
enough about you? I have some;
Just let me put it in your pocket-book
to make sure, till you come back. And
you have your lunch, and here comes
the car. We can catch the train, I
think.”— Harper's Weekly.
(Continued. )
—
The Daisy.
The daisy is everywhere. I have
traveled somewhat extensively in the
Old World, but have not been lucky
enough to see it anywhere as prolifically
bappy asit is with us. It isnot the
daisy of the poets— the daisy of Burns,
which is taking to wildhood in our east-
ern states, though finding itself at home
in British Columbia, but a species of
chrysanthemum and is distinctively
known in the Old World as the oxeye
daisy. Like the buttercup, it is offen-
sive to cattle, and indeed to almost all
things. In a dry and pulverized condi-
tion it is fly powder, so destructive to
all insects,
In those portions of our country
where Indian. corn isa staple crop,
neither the buttercup nor the oxeye
daisy are dreaded by the farmer. The
hoe harrowing destroys it utterly, but
in the New England states, where past-
ure is of more consequence than grain,
they rob the farmerot halfhis profits
while giving pleasure to the eye of the
traveler.
———
Mahogany in Great Demand.
There is probably more mahogany
imported to New York now than ever
before, and the wood is put to a great-
er variety of uses than at any time since
its beauty was first discovered to the
world.” It is true that old mahogany
brings enormous prices, and that archi-
tects eagerly watch the destruction of
old buildings for the sake of purchas-
ing stair rails and mantelpieces of ma-
hogany for new houses. But the gaudy
barrooms now so popular, demand more
new mahogany in a year than was ever
consumed in a like period for the din-
ing tables of our grandfathers. The
largest logs, when not sawed up into
veneer, go to make bar slabs.—<New
York Sun.
et ————————]
——Poisoned by Scrofula is the sad
story of many lives made miserable
through no fault of their own. Scro-
fula is more especially than any other a
hereditary disease, and for this simple
reason . Arising from impure and in-
sufficient blood, the disease locates itself
in the lymphatics, which are composed
of white tissues ; there isa period of
foetal life when the whole body consists
of white tissues, and therefore the un-
born child is especially susceptible to
this dreadful disease. But there is a
remedy for serofula, whether hereditary
or acquired. Tt is Hood’s Sarsaparilla,
which by its powerful effect on the
blood, expels all trace of the disease and
gives to the vital fluid the quality and
color of health, If you decide to take
Hood's Sarsaparilla “do not accept any’
substitute, g Ba
Conviction Impossible,
From the Hazleton Sentinel.
a man is that he is a gainer when 'given
Returning, weary and dejected, to |
a three per cent. advance after a fifty’
per cent drop has been made,
NE
——Teacher—!‘In what part of the
| Bible is it taught that a man should
have only one wife ?” Little Boy—+I
guess it's the part that says no man" can
serve two masters.
——
caught her eye; and holding the ‘sheet |
“amount to'§15,850,575,000, 1°
—United States farm © mortgages
One of the hardest, things to pursuade’
‘duration 8. been
‘weeks of almost incessant rain.
¥ A ————————————————
The Victims of the Tariff,
Harper's Weekly.
Discussions of the tariff usually 'con- |
cern themselves with capital and labor
and the tariff is professedly an inven-
tion for adding to the profits of the one
and the wages of the other. Everyone
pays his share of the burdens of the
who suffer most from they tax belong
to the great unconsidered class of per-
sons of moderate means.
is to be found the larger part of the
cultivated intelligence of the country.
Here are the professional men, the sal-
intellectual repose to the brisk activi-
ties of business. Here are the authors
and artists, the merchant who appre-
ciates the beautiful things of art and
letters, and who, in order to find time
to enjoy them, gives up the hope of
making the fortune that represents
a life devoted to money-getting.
The people who belong to this class
have social privileges and correspond-
ing social duties. Their tastes are
nice, and consequently expensive.
They have ambitions for their chil-
dren. They regard it as their duty to
send them to the best schools, and the
cost of tuition at such schools are often
large enough to be a burden to moder-
ate incomes. A well-trained mind,
however, is the heritage of those who
have no fortunes, and that must be
theirs at any cost.
These people and their children must
dress well enough to be presentable
among richer folk, There must be
decent silks for the wife and respecta-
ble broadcloth for the man. The lat-
ter cannot go to his office in corduroys.
He cannot go with his wife to after
noon teas in cheviots, and he must
possess his evening suit of clothes,
which he wears until its shining seams
frighten him with the warning that
the larger part of his week's income
must go for a new one, Hjs wife and
daughters must have finery, costumes,
dresses for parties, dinners and balls,
There must be entertainments at his
home, and he must be able to offer his
friends a glass of wine.
Life for a man of this sortis hard
enough under the best of circumstances,
and much ingenuity is sometimes dis-
played in making both ends meet. But
in this country the government does
its best to add to the difficulties of ex-
istence. For the kinds ofclothes need-
ed by a man or woma. in moderate
circumstances—a man or woman who
has no intention of hiding away from
the social world—$100 will not go 80
far in this country as $50 will go on
the other side of the world. The mon-
ey demanded for a good overcoat in
New York will buy thre. in London,
and two evening suits can be purchased
in Paris for the price of one in New
York.
What is true of clothes is true of
everything that is better than the bare
necessaries of life. Itis true of table
linen, of the objects of art that add to
the delights of life, of glass and china,
and of dainty and pleasing bits of fur-
niture. Itis a mistake to denounce
luxuries as if indulgence in them were
a feeble kind of vice. Tasteful ‘luxur-
ies are aids to the spiritual and intel-
lectual progress of the rich, and a de-
sire for them should not be discouraged
and prevented by taxation.
Theman of moderate means has
been driven into the suburbs by high
rents. The master mechanic's wife
looks longingly at an “all-wool” dress
she would like for Sunday wear, but
which is taxed by the tariff beyond the
power of her purge. The wives of the
author, the lawyer, the doctor, the min-
ister and the artist turn and turn again
the old silks and satins, furbish up the
dimness of time with a bright ribbon,
scrub out the gloss of age on the hus-
band’s coat, and spend weary hours in
saving dollars that, were it not for the
tariff tax would add to the delights of
life, and afford the easy circumstances
of which poets sing, but which no one
of them, unless he possesses a Mmcenas
expects to attain in this world of taxes
and other pecuniary exactions.
————
Loaded the Melons,
Whiskey Poured Ints Those Intended For a
Temperance Party.
New York World. !
The good temperance people of Rose-
dale, L. I. received a severe shock to
their prohibition principles ata water-
melon sociable held hera recently. The
melons at the sociable had been plugged
and doctored with rye whisky by some
practical joker. The joke was discovered
after several slices had been sampled,
When they decided to destroy all the
remaining melons it was tound that
they had been stolen.
Thesociable was held at the residence
of Henry Remsen, The melons had
been specially selected. The women
were the first to discover that the fruit
had been doctored. A young woman's.
exclamation that the melon she was eat-
ing was overripe attracted a deacon
whose nose was more experienced with
the smell of spirits, and he at once detec-
ted the whisky. After a general tasting
of melons all agreed that some one had
played a trick on them.
he host insisted that he knew noth-'
ing about the affair. While the discus-
sion’ was going on a number of the less
excitable members of the party had de-
,voured their melons and asked for more
when the situation was explainéd and a
second supply refused. The plot to steal:
the melons was charged to six of the
young men who attended the sociable
‘and who had disappeared. Thése young
men were to be summoned before a
church méeting next week : 10 explain
their conduct and tell what they knew.
lof the affair.
mts —— er —
——Now that the rainmakers hav
quit fooling with the atmosphere of Tex-
as, the clouds have concluded to come
down handsomely.’ In the lower Rio
Grande region a drought of four years
has been followed by three,
New boas are of cock feathers in
‘white, black or tan interspersed with
The World of Women.
They told me when I married her
My ardent love would fade away,
But as 1 buy her gowns, I find
My wife grows dearer every day.
Emeralds are the favorite stones just
now.
The coming hat is a bona fide Gains-
tariff, as of all taxation, but the people , borough.
Tartan stockings accompany the
| piaided gown.
In this class
aried men, the men and women who
have limited incomes, who love books |
and pictures, and who prefer a life of !
vet r
Changeable velvets promise to be as
much used by milliner as modiste.
Braid takes this season a most’ impor-
tant place in the world of trimming.
Empire sleeves of velvet in vivid
tones form a part of the evening robe.
Neck and shoulder ruffles and those
in shawl effects are seen on many hod-
ces.
Some of the girdles
through long gilt or silver
laced with narrow ribbon.
Many new gowns, if not entirely
made of plaid, have bias folds and trim-
mings of it cut on the bias.
are passed
buckles, or
Most of the tailor dresses clear tho
ground, and are finished with many
rows of stitching or wool braid.
Negligee waists of plaid surah are
made with careless ruffled jabots or
shawl, like carelessly adjusted revers.
In spite of predictions to the contrary
the handsomest models of the season
show the the skirts of the bell-shaped,
but as a rule they are shorter than those
of last season,
Chamois tints seem to be especial fa-
vorites this autumn, Nearly all the
modish costumes show chamois tones,
and one of the nobbiest toilettes of the
day displays a combination of chamois
ard black.
Miss Homersham, a lecturer on nurs-
ing, recommends that the sick room
should contain only two chairs. “A
very comfortable one for the nurse,and a
very uncomfortable one for the visitors
who stay long,”
A contrivance has been invented by
Mrs. Harriet M. Plumb, of New York,
for keeping cars supplied with fresh air
without the annoyance of cinders. The
new patent has been in use for some
weeks on local trains between San Fran-
cisco and Oakland, Cal., and
is very
satisfactory.
Around the Lamp, a monthy paper
for young people, has been published
for three years by Miss Annie Shepard
Spooner, at Hinsdale, N. H. Miss
Spooner is only 18, but she is a thor—
ough worker, not only setting her own
type and soliciting advertisements, but
filling every position from editior to
office boy.
A pale blue crepe was made with in-
sertion of black lace and had high puff-
ed sleeves of black satin.” In pale pink
gauze were some adorable patterns
wrought in bronze and pale blue. This,
used in combination with amber velvet,
made a gown that was simply a dream,
from which one did care to awake:
White satin striped grenadine, either
flecked with forget-me-nots or in snowy
purity, will be much used for evening
wear.
One of the characteristics of coats this
winter will be that they will fit snugly
to the figure, as a rule; although one
style that will not last long is a very
loose affair, with a Watteau pleat in the
back. Its effect is to make a woman
look almost as broad as she is long. A
very pretty coat is a long, tight fitting
garment, with a coachman’s triple cape,
and it answers the purpose of a full cos-
tume. Later in the season the cape
can be taken off and a fur cape stubsti-
tuted. Capes of fur promise to be as
fashionable this winter as they were
last year.
More curious, to my thinking - than
pretty was a small white felt bonnet
with an enormous prism-shaped jet
buckle crossing its entire front and an
impertient black plume rising behind
this straight in the air. A narrow black
ruche edged all beneath and rested on
the hair.
A good deal of the millinery falt has
a beaver edge so thick and heavy as to
pass for fur. A brown hat with a
straight brim of this discription is trim-
med with cream-colored velvet and has
creamy feathers set under the brim and
almost covering the knot of hair,
The milliners are busier than the
dressmakers up to date, and they are
turning out felts in preference to most
other materials. In wandering about
at an opening yesterday the prettiest
thing I saw was a flat white felt with a
furry beaver edge and a top covered
with Alsation bows of white ribbon tied
in with with some big white velvet or-
chids.
Another idea carried out rather sue-
cessfuly appeared in a Tam O'Shanter
turban of white velvet with one black
eagle’s feather standing up over the left
ear.
New York is blue, I don’t think the:
cholera has had anything to do with it
because the blueness physical is relieved
of any suspition of blueness mental by
its bouyant and brilliant combination
with other colors, :
The prevailing blueness of all shades,
from the faintest gray blue to the dark-
est blue black. On Broadway this
morning in a walk of a very few blocks
I jotted down the following in an odd
corner of ‘my ‘memory : 4
(1). A graceful gown of navy blue
serge banded at the bottom with alter-
nating stripes of old rose and green vel-
ibbon and worn with a folded belt
and little shoulder caps of green’ ‘tufted
with rose. Rival for '
(2). A navy blue tailor gown with
blouse ‘bodice of blazing ‘scarlet and
green silk undera figaro jacket with the
same lining, i 10}
(3). , A trained street dress of royal
blue with Russian blouse of crinson and
black velvet cuffs and collar. f
(4) A gray and blue mixed cloth
dress figured with passion flowers in
dark blue and worn with a long coat
bodice and plain skirt banded with iri-
descent green and blue cock’s feathers.
(6). A light gendarme blue dress.
striped with faint heliotrope,
6). A directoire gown of gendarme.
the delicate sprays of ostrich or mara- ! bide with full basqued bodice and large-
(bout plumes in some contrasting color. Reg of
olive green revers,