Bellefonte, Pa., April 21, 1893
A
THE MAN THAT NEVER SWEARS.
I’ve often wondered how he feels
When troubles ccme his way,
When everyihing goes wrong and clouds
Obeure his sunny day : :
For instance, when a gust of wind
Takes off the tile he wears,
T wonder what he thinks about—
The man that never swears.
Or when to make a business trip
He hastens thro’ the rain,
And gains the gtation just in time
To miss the mornitg train;
How does he feel as in the west
The express dissppears ?
I wonder if he thinks “bad words” —
The'man that never swears,
The world is full of trying scenes,
No matter where we go,
The truly good are tempted sore
As you, perhaps, may know;
And when I find him vexed and mad
My sympathy he shares,
For I imagine how he feels—
The man that never swears. i
—T. C. Harbaugh, inthe Cincinnati Tribune
ECS TN)
HIS WEDDING-DAY.
BY MISS MARGARET TENNANT.
It was one o'clock ona hot day in
June. The approach to St. George's,’
Hanover Square, London, was’ throng-
ed with landaus and victorias, out of
which beautiful heads strained impa-
tiently to see how soon the policeman
would allow them to: move on ; coach-
men and footmen stiff with powder and
bouquets eyed each other, and waited
for the official arm to be lowered, and
the. counter-stream of carriages to be
stopped in their turn. Thickly packed
groups of on-lookers crowded round the
pillars of the great black church, and
jammed and jostled each other upon
the pavement, Through the bustle
and rustle of the open doorway strains
of the organ were faintly beard. Car-
riage after carriage pulled up and de-
livered its fashionable beauty.
A group of litule bridemaids in white
were chattering to each other on. the
top of the steps, hugging large bonquets
of roses and ribbons, while their
mothers in busy pride circulated
smiles and bows, and readjusted the
large hats of their officiating offspring,
which, owing to the delay of the bride,
were poised at strange angles.
“What a little sweet your Violet
is,” said one lady, pointing to a ‘plain
little girl standing ‘stiffly in her new
dress with ‘her toes turned in. “I was
thinkging how becoming these hats are
to yourlittle Angela.”
“Hold yourself up, darling,” said an-
other lady, tapping’ her child across
the other one’s hat, “and do not all
stop at the altar huddled together, but
leave a little space between each of
ou, and do not stand or kneel on the
ride’s dress, or our darling Pamela
will be upset. What a long time the
dear girl is, and she was nearly dressed
when I looked in twenty minutes ago !
The room was too full “of people, and
her poor mother wou!d insist on kiss:
ing her after her veil had beea most
carefully arrar.ged by Mary and Jane,
and of course the diamond stars caught
in the lace of her sleeves, and dragged
poor Pamela’s Greek knot and orange
blossoms most terribly.”
The church was filling rapidly. In
the chatter and curiosity and whisper
ed criticism a long figure of a rather
obscurely dressed man «lipped past the
bridesmaids up the steps, past the la-
dies’-maids holding wedding favors,
past the reporters and wedding guests,
took up his position behind some
young guardsmen who were standing
Just inside the door. He had a pale
face, and on any other occasion the in-
tensity of his expression must have at-
tracted notice, Ie held his hand
across his chest under his coat, and
kept his eye riveted on the church
door. At the entrance of the bride the
excitement was great ; the organ peal-
ed and vibrated, and the company fell
back to allow the bride to walk “down
the aisle on the arm of her father. Ev-
ery head was turned and every eye
straired to see the exquisite beauty of
Pamela Churchill, as for. one moment
she stood in her long white gown and
scanned the dusky interior of St.
George's. :
The pale guest had been carried. for-
ward by the eagerness of the crowd,
but finding himself close to the bride,
he stepped back, lowering his head to
escape observation, not, however, be-
fore .Pamela’s little head, erect and
moving had turned towards him, and
her direct gaze fixed upon his face. It
was in the flash of a moment that their
eyes met; the white swaying figure
-passed on, and its outline was lost in
the procession of hats and bouquets,
but the man shrank into the shadow of
the gallery like ‘a guilty thing sur-
prised,” and if possible his face was a
shade paler, while his arm seemed. to
to contract across. his heart as it
stifling its throbbing. pe ‘
The organ stopped playing. The
voice of the priest rose clear, “Dearly
beloved, we are gathered together here
“inthe sightiof God.” Shafts of light
fell'in mottled purple at the feet of the
"young ‘couple. The sun and shade
‘from the étained windows casta mys-
tery over the 'altar, and the gloom of
‘the'whole church was in’ direct con-
trast to the sammer brilliance of the
congregation. ned
When the bridegroom, ‘following the
clergyman, said, ina deep, audible
.voice, I, Henry, take thee, Pamela, to
be my wedded wife,’ there was a slight
"movement at the back of the: church,
and the long stranger stepped slowly
forward to where he could’ see the al’
_ tar.” He stood quite motionless till the
clergyman said, “Those whon God
hath joined together let’ mo’ mau put
penn then ‘he retired to ‘the 'ob-
scurity of his former position.
‘To quote the eyening' paper, “th
service was choral, and efficiently con-
ducted.” The young, couple "walked
out of the church .to the strains of}
«Mendelssohn's wagnificent’. Wedding
March. It was noticed afterwards that,
Pamela did not stop; but walked rath-
er hurriedly past her friends on her
husband’s arm, looking ahout her with
less self possession than she had
shown .on ‘her entrance. As they
reached the doorway a man pushed
himself rather roughly through the
scattering throng that was closin
round the bride in enth wis congeat
ulation, gud stepping quietly up is the
bridegroom, took from his own breast
pocket a letter, which he pressed sig-
nificantly into his hand. His express-
ion was Bo sinister that Pamela shrank
up closer t6 her husband ; he hurried
her into the carriage after putting the
letter in his pocket.
It was not to be expected thal such
an occurrepce should pass unnoticed,
that followed the mysterious wedding
guest as be stole into the ‘street and
disappeared. He was the subject of
much speculation,
“I never saw a more threatening
countenance in my life,” said one la-
| dy; “poor Pamela was terrified, I
could see; and did you see her expres-
sion when her husband would not let
her have - the letter ? Depend upon it,
there was something curious in that
during the service.” :
“Oh my dear Fanny, how could you
see—we were all behind her ?”
“But she looked round continually,”
“T never noticed that.”
tle Violet come and hold her glove and
bouquet.” said another,
‘But did you see the man? He was
close to me, and never stopped staring
at Pamela, and held his hand so mys-
teriously under his coat, I began to
think he had a revolver, and would
‘blow the bridegroom’s brains out,”
“Oh my dear Fanny what ideas you
have got I" : :
“Well such things have happened
before.”
“Have they ? I have been to ‘a great
many weddings. and never saw any-
thing interesting.’ I never have met
any one who ever heard the banns dis-
puted.’
“] wonder who the man was ; he re-
minded mesomuch of a face I have
‘seen somewhere,”
“Don’t let us think of him ; his
starved expression has made me. quite
hungry. | Here we are at the house.”
1 hopeonr present looks well, John.
I rather wish we had chosen the other
tea set, though £15 18 as much as I ev-
er give fora wedding-present.
“My dear Fanny, no! one would
think that our present had cost so lit-
tle ; 1f you look at the teapot, it mignt
have cost anything.”
“Jump out, Angela ; and stép on the
matting, or you will ruin your shoes.”
Nobody was very clear as to how
the bride and bridegroom looked or
conducted themselves during the wed-
ding breakfast, but sly Fanny Jones
said there was a visible change intheir
faces, and orserved that the only time
Pamela spoke to her husband he did
not answer her. Some one said that
this was because. he was removing
sugar cradles and bird cages off ‘the
cake preparatory to cutting it. Pame-
la went ‘up stairs, surrounded by a
bevy ot female friends to change into
her travelling dress. There was a
deafening hum of talk and laughter,
and the crush upon the stairs defied
progression. A confusion of bride
maids’ bouquets in waiters’ faces ; lace
shawls caught into parsol “epikes;
dresses toro ; toes trodden on.
In the long drawing rooms the wed-
ding presents were laid out for inspec:
tion, and many and free were the crit-
icisms passed upon them.
“This is the ninth traveling clock I
have counted. I have given up trying
to count the candlesticks and paper-
cutters. Doar me, what a shabby
writing case! Who can have given
that ? (looking at the card.) The
Princess L. of Saxe I). Goodness! I
dare say i's: valuable. It grows on
me. What a handsome glove-box! I
am sure some great person has given
our darling this. No! "Mr. Truefitt |
Fancy, John dear, look ! ‘I don't see
our present anywhere. We must find
it. Iftyon take that side, I will work
my way down here, and we can meet
over at the diamonds. = At this minute
there was a rush to the toot of the stairs
to see Pamela come down in her
*‘going away’ gown. She wore a three-
cornered hat and a long green cloak.
‘Pulling one side of her skirt and cloak
out of the way of a dainty little foot,
she stepped slowly down the stairs,
such dignity in the upward poise of her
lovely'head' that, instead of crushed
compliments and’ tearful embracings,
the company stood still to look at her.
The carriage drove off ina ‘shower of
rice and heelless satin shoes. Pamela,
leaning “out of the window, kissed
her hand to her mother. As she did
80, a face in the crowd caught her eye,
She withdrew her head instantly, and
the horses stepped on out of the square,
swung round the corner of Park Lane
towards Paddington Station, -
After the incident which ‘I have des-
cribed, it was not to be supposed that
such’ company ae gathers at a fashion-
able wedding should not talk.
Henry Mortimer was fifteen "years
older’than Lis bride, Pamela Churchill,
He wag 'well' known in’ two ‘worlds.
sporting’ dnd dramatic. © Tall, well
bred, and easy-going, there was no sen-
gation he had wot experienced. A fin.
ished man of the “world, he argued,
with Alfred de Musset, “Qu'il faut aim.
er beaucoup de choses dans ce bas monde
pour savoir apres tout ce qi'on’ aime le
mieuzr.”' The anvourtement of his
| marriage provoked ‘considerable sur-
‘prise. “It was the subject ‘of endless
conversation, nor was the ‘interest'in
any way diminished by the oécurrence
related above. Some’ timé after the
very intimate triends after dinner, thus,
Of conrse everyone knew why Henry
Mortimer, was in: love with Pamela.
She was not a bit in love with him. I
know trom her greatest friend that she
has always cared for one man; I do
not know his name, her, friend was too
loyal to tell me that, but L know he is
awretehed creature full of debts, and
with an awful temper. Ie had great
and many were the curious glances
letter. I thought she was very absent,
“Oh, I did ; but it was to make lit.
wedding a lady told the story to a few
(influence over her, and everyone knows
they were most intimate. She was
ding,
OE who was there herselt and saw
it with her own eyes, a wretehed-look-
ing man, but a geutleman, of course,
made himself most eonspicuous, going
right up to the altar and staring at the
bride so intensely that she turned and
shuddered whenever she “eaught his
eye. A group of guardsmen Jushed
@Him back, but this made him wild. He
slipped down “the cide aisle, and-as
Henry and Pamela | were going to get
into their carriage he placed himself in
front of the door, znd: took a letter,
which some evear was in Pamela's
handwriting, out from under his coat
and thrust it into: Henry: Mortimer’s
Land. Pamela with a slight cry tried
to get it away from ‘him, but he pushed
her roughly into the ‘carriage, and
with a rigid face put the letter in his
pocket and got in after her. My
friend’s cousin only just had time to
catch Pamela’s expression as she leant
back in the carriage. asn’t it terri-
ble? ‘And it is quite true, for I have
heard much the same story from one
or two very ungossipy people. Fanny
says she will never forget that wedding.
She kept the menu of the breakfast.”
. “Has no one heard anything of the
young couple since ? It would bea
strange thing if, after all this, the
marriage should turn out well.”
“Let me relieve you,” said a some.
what cynical listener to the lady speak-
er. “I met a mun last night at the
Turf who had seen the Mortimers at
Monte Carlo. He was gambling most
recklessly. From this you will surely
infer the worst.”
Let us go back to the church door.
The footman touched ‘his hat, and
jumped upon the carriage beside the
coachman, who drove them rapidly
away from the gaze of the crowd.
Henry Mortimer caught his wife's lit
tle hand, and, powerless ‘to speak the
passion that he felt for her, looked si-
lently into the depth of her eyes.
“Oh, Harry, at last we are alone!
Must we go back to the Louse ?”
And she pouted playfully, drawing
the least thing nearer to him. He put
his arm round her, and touched her
hair with his lips.
“What a strange man that was that
came up to us at the door, Henry."
“Yes, poor devil. Let us see what
his paper says. ‘Venus Soap—saves
rubbing.” Henry laughed, and said,
Saves washing.’ "—Harper’'s Weekly.
April's Wild Flowers.
Where They Are to Be Found and How to Know
Them
The bloodroot is among the earliest
of the wild flowers. It is often found as
early as the middle of March, and ap-
pears in rich soil and shady situations.
In April, however, it is more commonly
found, and when once known can not
readily be forgotten. Its petals, of
which it has from eight to twelve, are
white, but they sometimes huve a red-
dish or purple tinge. The centre of the
flower is of a deep golden color. It be-
longs to the poppy family. Ths root of
tre flower hus some more or less valua-
ble medicinal qualities, and it also has
some of the somniferous influences be-
longing to the other members of the
poppy family.
Everybody is, or ought to be, acquain-
‘ted with the anemone~ the rue anemo-
ne and the wood anemone—often called
the wild flower.
The wood anemone, as its name sug-
gests, has its favorite hauut in the woods,
although often it may be fourd close to
trees in the moreopen ground. The rue
anemone likes the companionship of old
trees especially. Both varieties of this
flower have slender stems from four to
eight or ten inches high, with white pet-
als, or white tinged with a delicute
shade of blue. In the rue anemone the
flowers are in clusters, but in the other
variety they are solitary.
The May-apple appears later than the
bloodroot and the anemones. It makes
its appearance in the latter part of April,
is usually in full maturity 1n May and
bears a fruit which ripens in June or
July. The fruit is a fleshy, egg-shaped
berry, which is edible and not unpleas-
ant to the taste, The plant's leaves and
roots, though, are poisonous if eaten. As
a medicine the Indians used to think
that the fruit was of considerable value.
‘The May apple is umbrella-shaped, and
its flower is” white and large. It muy
be found in meadows and along the
skirts of woods.
Better known, at least in literature,
than almost - any of the wild flowers
which have been mentioned here is the
trailing arbutus, the Mayflower of the
pigs and of the present day New
nglanders generally, and sometimes
called the ground laurel. The trailing
arbutus, it is said, was the first flower to
greet the pilgrims at Plymouth in the
early spring after their first winter in
that bleak and sterile spot. It is, with
all the natives of New England and of
the middle states, the favorite among
the early wild flowers. ’
——Croquettes, or as the rural visi-
tor termed them, ‘‘hash cakes” are the
best known means for getting rid of
cold meats. They are always palata-
bleand make delicious dishes for break-
fast or tea. The following is an excel-
lent recipe for veal croquettes.
Chop cold veal fine; to every pint
allow half a pint of milk, a large table
spoonful of butter, two tablespoonfuls
of flour, one of chopped parsley, a tea:
spoonful of onion juice, a teaspoon ful
of salt, half a grated nutmeg, with pep-
per to taste; put the milk on to boil,
rab the butter and flour together, stir
in the boiling milk until it is thick;
take from the fire, add the meat and
beat until well mixed, add the season-
ings and turn out to cool; when cold
and hard, form into cone shaped crop-
quettes; dip first in egg and then in
bread crumbs and fry in boiling fat.
A Fair Martyr.
Maud —*“She is a woman who has
suffered a great deal for her beliefs.”
Ethel —“Dear me | What are her be-
liefs 77
Maud —*She believes ‘that she’ can
wear a No, 3 shoe on a No. 6 foot, and
2:23 inch corset on a 30-inch waist,
wadly in love with him, “At the wed. |
ing, I was. told bythe. cousin ‘ofa |.
| as their ancesters did, and when it comes
‘and dried banana leaves, concluded the
How the Samoan Lives,
“Isles of the Pacific.
Apia isthe capital and the largest,
city of Samoa, and is situated at the
base of a large hill bordering the shores
of a beautiful coral formed semicircular
bay.
are of gourse pauives; of ‘Americans,
Eongiishmen and Germans there are on-
ly afew hundred, who live in neatly
construgted cottages. The first 1mpres-
sion.a-8{ranger teceives as he walks
through the town of Apia, is that the
‘country must be limited in space, other
wiSe'more room © would be given for
foot and wheel passage, for from end to
end of the city the main street is no-
thing more than an ordinary footway.
It is also just as crooked as a path, sel-
dom more than fifty feet of it being at
any point in a straight line. Each
store and house has apparently, a street
of its own, every successive winding be-
longing to some other. Of course the
native Samoan requires no wide streets
for their accommodation, but why the
foreign residents. who have been to con-
siderable expense in erecting iarge stores
and dwellings should not have placed
wide, open spaces between and in front
of them, appears strange and unaccount-
able, for land is neither so dear nor so
scarce as to heave precluded them from
doing so,
THE HUTS OF THE NATIVES.
The natives live in rudely cons:ructed
huts, which.are circular in form, the
rain or hot tropical sun being kept out
by the thick layers of ‘banana leaves,
which compose the cone-shaped roofs.
The sides of these huts are closed in
the daytime 'by mats, made of cocoanut
fibre and suspended trom the edges of
the roof. At night the mats are taken
down so the cool sea breeze may blow
through. Furniture these people have
none except a few camphor wood boxes,
in which they keep what little wearing
apparel they possess. The floors of their
huts are covered with round smooth-
worn pebbles, and on them they spread
their sleeping mats, having for a pillow
a piece of bamboo pole supported by
props under each end—a by no means
uncomfortable bed.
A FONDNESS FOR RED ‘HAIR.
A peculiarity about the Samoans,
which T at first thought was natural,
is that almost all of them have red hair.
I was undeceived as to my belief for,
after being a few days on the island, I
met a native whose hair seemed snow
white, and upon inquiry, I learned that
they put lime on their heads every
morning regularly, washing it off to-
ward noon. In this manner they
bleach their hair to a bright red color.
They seem to have a particular liking
for a white person having red hair, and
I take the liberty of advising one and
all the red haired girls of Pennsylvania
to emigrate to Samoa, for there they
could have their pick of the Samoan
young men and live on the fat of the
land.
ALWAYS READY FOR WAR.
Though white men have inhabited
Samoa for almost a half century, the na-
tives are far from civilized. A large
number still believe in false gods, just
to warfare they ficht more desperately
and longer than their forefathers did,
the white men having taught them how
to use fire arms. They are ever ready
to go to war. The majority of them,
I am afraid, think more of their mus-
kets than they do of their wives. A na-
tive chief once remarked to me that he
thought his people would be far better
off had the white man with all his evils
never set foot upon the beautiful islands
of Samoa. When T look back and see
the trouble the introduction of firearms
and whisky has gotten the Samoans into
I cannot help thinking that he was a
wise moralist who, once upon a time,
made thé remark that, judged by its
fruits, civilization consists of humbug
sand wichad between a church and a dis-
tillery.
A SAMOAN DINNER.
The Samoans are a very hospitable
people, especially so toward Americans,
whom they almost worship. I rewem-
ber distinctly partaking of dinner with a
prominent chief of Samoa within one of
their intrenchments during the late un.
pleasantness between Samoa and Ger-
many. The meal was spread on mats
laid in the centre of the hut, cocoanut
shells split in half answering for plates.
All of us sat on the mats, tailor-fashion.
Samoans always take their families with
them to war. We ate what we wished
with our fingers. The bill of fare, as
near as I can remember, consisted of the
following : First, fish. And let me re-
mark here that Samoans are very fond
of fish, often eating them without going
to the trcuble of cooking them. The
fish had been cooked by wrapping them
in banana leaves and placing them on
heated stones, such a thing as stoves be-
ing unknown among the natives of
Samoa. After the fish came their favor-
ite dish, poipoi. Itis made of bread
fruit which has first been roasted in an
open fire built upon the ground, the
eatable part being then pounded into a
pulp and placed in a hole dug in the
earth where. nicely protected by leaves,
it is left for an indefinite time—the
longer the better, some natives leaving
it thus buried for years. When wanted
for the table, it is brought out, a little
freshly prepared bread fruit added, ‘and
behold ! ycu have a dainty morsel for
the Samoan palate. Next came bread
fruit, freshly roasted. Eaten in this
manner it is so much like our potato
that, for some time after my arrival in
Samoa, I ate it daily under the impres-
sion that I was eating the familiar mur-
phy. Nexton tke bill of fare was ban-
anas, roasted. These were, as is the
custom, wrapped in leaves and laid in
hot askes until done. They are appe-
tizing morsels, but rather rich. For
desert we had fine ripe oranges, ban-
anas and pineapples, and as a beverage,
cocoanut milk served in the original
nuts. ‘Oigars, made of native tobacco
entertainment, which, though lavish
from a Samoan standpoint, was not ex-
actly palatable to one of civilized taste.
THE LAZIKST PEOPLE ON EARTH, |
Judged from a live American . point |
of view, the Samoans are about the laz-
Thelarger part of the inhabitants |
' however, being oR
for the gathering Then, too, the sea
produces fish fu plenty, and the reefs at-
ford many things edible, the capture or
fetching of which is merely classed
among the Samoan national sports.
SAMOAM CLOTHING.
As for clothing, what little the Sam.
oang require is made either from leaves
plucked in the bush, or ‘from the bark
of the paper mulberry tree. This last
thé work of
the females, the men e plenty of
time for what they love -most—sleep.
When they do work, their main duty is
house building and the cutting of the
timber necessary therefor; and even
here the women do not escape some
share of the labor, for the thatching and
plaiting of the Venetian curtains, which
form the sides, is their work. So 1s also
the transportation, in baskets, of the
beach gravel with which the floors are
covered. Only planting, fishing co ok-
ing are performed by both sexes: alike,
and it is no disgrace for even a high
chief to be caught engaged in preparing
the family meal.
SKILL IN BOAT BUILDING.
Canoe and boat building is the busi-
ness of a few experienced men, who are
very well paid for their ingenuity and
extraordinary labors ; and house car-
penters, too, are of considerable impor-
tance in the islands, To the latter even
the most powerful chiefs are at times
subservient, and 1t is amnsing to see one
playing second fiddle to the man en-
gaged in the construction of his domi-
cile.
THE WOMEN OF SAMOA.
The women and girls, the first thing
in the morning after rolling up the sides
of their houses and putting away the
sleeping mats and mosquito screens,
pass an hour or so in weeding in front
of the huts, gossiping continuously the
while. As soon as the sun ‘is well up,
they quit their outdoor labor until
night, doing sewing, making mats, ete.,
during the heat of the day.
SAMOAN POLITICS.
In the evening the men assemble in
village council, gravely discuss island
politics and the affairs of the village.
At these meetings, the men almost in-
variably bring with them small bundles
of cocoanut fibre which, while listening
or talking, they plait into sinnet, or na-
tive string. To any steady, settled
work, however, it is quite impossible to
bring the ordinary Samoan. He will
make a good start, but will begin to lag
directly, and after a few days quit alto-
gether. Of time, these natives seem to
have no conception whatever. They
remember nothing by dates; just before
such and such an event, they say, nam-
ing some great storm or other thing of
import sufficient to have’ made an en-
during impression. As for their own
ages, they absolutely do not know how
old they are. You may ask an old
man, to all appearance not less than 80,
what his age is, and after a deal of
studying he will gravely inform you
that he does not know to a certainty,
but thinks he cannot be less than eight
or nine years old. :
————
Steam is Nowhere.
A Motor That Will Give a Speed of Thirty-Five
Miles to a Steamer.
In an article printed in the New York
Herald, of Tuesday, great claims are
made in behalf of a “new motive force
more powerful than steatn.”
The invention is George Sheffield,
who says that bis motor will give a speed
of thirty-five miles an hours to a steam-
ship of 5,000 tons.
The machine is very simple, or at
least the inventor says it is. If applied
to an ocean liner it would occupy littls
space. Sheffield claims that all that
wouid be needed to supply it with nec-
essary force to drive a steamship like
the Teutonic across the ocean in three
days and a half is a barrel of ordinary
powdered sugar, a barrel of chlorate of
potash and enough sulphuric acid to
supply the combustion needed to keep
the machinery in motion. There would
be no more need of mammoth boilers or
capacious coal bunkers. The space now
devoted to these obj cts could be utiliz-
ed by the steamship companies for pas-
sengers or freight.
Sheffield says his machine is so sim-
ple a child could manage it. He obtains
his power through the explosions result-
ing from the ignition of the sugar and
potash by contract with the sulphuric
acid. The ingredients are introduced
into the proper chambers by air pressure,
and, as they mingle a rapid series of ex-
plosions result, which drive the piston
rod back and forth at a high rate of
cooled by water pumped through tubes
from a tank at the lower left side of the
machine. :
Cylindrical chambers on either side of
the vacuum box at the top of the ma-
chine are reservoirs for the sugar and
potash. The gases which are evolved
by the meeting of the three elements in
what would be the steam chamber in an
ordinary engine, are said to develop a
force more powerful than steam, and
much less dangerous. :
Sn —————
Influence of the Local Newspapers,
Concerning the value of the local
paper--and all” papers large or smell,
daily or weekly, are local in a certain
sense—in advertising the advantages of
‘towns as sites for business, and herald-
ing their attractions as placesof ‘homes
and their business resources, Bro. Coi-
lins gives some ‘ideas which are so sen-
sible, so true, and have so wide an ap:
plication that we take pleasure in trans-
ferring an abstract from his essay to our
own colums “The local paper,” he
says, “is the greatest advertisement a
locality can have of its advantages; re-
sources, and attractions. In. this res-
pect there is no substitute for it. The
conviction which one zealous citizen
may entertain of the attractions and
inducements of his locality, and which
be may endeavor with all persistence
and enthusiasm, to impress upon others
in his travels, in his weekly paper is
published to the world with a range and
reach that widens the individual effort a
thcusand fold in influence and result
for good. ;
“The local paper must fairly be cred-
ited with being the prirclpal fruition
and successful issue all sorts and kinds
of enterpriszs, beneficial to the commu-
iest peaple on the face ofthe earth, and
they might also be the happiest i{ their
islands had not been discovered by civs |
ized whites. They havea fine ¢limate,
and an abundance of food'is to be had
nity.— Press and Printer.
——The irrigation of milk must
cease.
speed. The chambers are constantly |
AH A SR CLARY
The World of Wome a.
The waists of the new French gowns
are either quite round or just a trifle
pointed in the back.
Dr. Mary Putman Jacobi has been
elected chairman of the section on neur-
ology at the New York Academy of
Medicine.
Black satin has come to stay. It
peeps out on evening gowns from the
midst of lace and other filmy materials
and fairly weighs down the street gown
in the wealth of its affection. No color
is too vivid or too dull to be its compan-
ion, and indeed as a trimming nothing
so effective has been introduced in many
years. :
In the Wisconsin House of Represen-
tatives on a recent occasion the morning
prayer was made by the Rev. Mrs,
Bartlett, a minister of the Universalist
faith. Tt is said that the prayer was the
most thoughtful and appropriate of any
delivered during the session and was
listened to with reverence rather than
impatience even to the amen.
Long stemmed flowers in high quiv-
ering clusters, and in contrast, many flat
wreaths of brier roses, hawthorn, gera-
niums, etc., are on new French hats.
Grasses, thorny stems and pussy willow
sprays are arranged in novel ways.
Jonquils and Parma violets make lovely
aigrettes on cream colored open work
straw bats trimmed with reseda green
velvet and ecru lace.
The velvet cape that reaches just tor
the waist line was the prettiest wrap.
out on Easter day. Some of them were-
violet, some green and some of the irri-.
descent shades, another was of checker
ed velvet. One of these velvet capes
was covered with passementerie of wav-
ed cords. The long fringes about the
waist are as fascinating and irresistible
as ever and are loth to depart. ‘Jet
rain’ it is called, and it is as pretty as it
useless and foolish.
A certain coat that we saw last year
on a well known woman has thus been’
renovated and is very lovely. It was
of black, braided heavily with gold, ap-
parently an expensive affair. This
spring it appears with sleeves and vest
of black satin. A high plaited collar
and a full frill from the vest front con-
vert it into a charming this season’s
model. It is such little things that pay
and which make our cloths seem always
up to date.
To jump right into summer modes.
we must tell you of a white duck suit
that is being made for a blonde beauty
by a tailor who finds in her a model
with which he can find no fault. The
skirt is to be box plaited all around and
a httle short jacket will open over a
yellow silk shirt waist. These duck
suits promise to supersede the serge ones
that have been popuiar so long. The
goods are shrunk before being made up,
and after that the wash tub is all that is
necessary to restore your tailor gown to
1ts pristine beauty.
The spring girl is in great contrast to
the winter girl. Her skirts are yards
and yards around the bottom. The lat-
est skirt is the Lois Fuiler, and this, is
a circle of cloth only less in diameter by
two-thirds than the circumference—that
1s to say, it would be wider if it could,
but the diameter will not permit of it.
It you would have a Lois Fuller skirt,
measure twice your length from the
waist line to the floor. This is the dia-
meter from the centre of which describe
the circle. From its centre cut a small
circle, whose circumference is your
waist measure, and when you don it the
gathers fall naturally. The proper
trimming for this skirt is narrow ribbon
woven for the purpose, and one thread
of which forms the shirring string.
The Empire skirt has become a favor-
ite in Paris, and has much of the bell
effect, though lioser to wear. It re-
quires three lengths of material trom
forty-two to forty-six inches in width,
making the bottom of the skirt from
three and a half to three and seven-
eighths yards wide. The front, as well
as the back width, is perfectly straight,
while each side is just half a width at
the bottom and gored up each seam to a
width of only three inches at the top.
The front and sides are titted with scan-
ty gathers, and the back has the French
gathers described for the bell skirts.
This skirt looks especialiy well in light
and medium weight materials, and
when worn with a round or Empire
waist it should escape the floor.
“Would IT marry ?”’ laughed a lovely
young lady of five and twenty depen-
dent on her income as a teacher for sup-
port. “Well, no. When I consider
the lot of my married friends I am
thankful for common sense enough to
remain single. 1 thoroughly enjoy my
free, unfettered life. To be sure, I go
to my work in the schoool room each
day, but my married friends have
househould cares as imperative as mine,
with far greater chances of failing to
give satisfaction. I have no husband
to find fault with the coffee or the state
of my wardrobe, no children to worry
my peaceful hours, no servants to cater
to. I have not to plan for three times
three hundred and sixty-five meals ‘each
year and no hungry family comes in to
devour in one brief hour the result of
my hard morning’s work in the kitchen.
No stern tyrant of a husband deals’ out
with grudging hand small bank bills to
supply my needs and those of my chil-
dren. IfI am engulfed in a whirlpool
of extravagance and purchase a lovely
gown, & pair of delectable evening
boots or a morsel of a French bonnet
can endure the reproaches of my own
conscience with some equanimity, but
the scowls'of an ‘angry spouse would
wither my very soul. When the bless-
ed summer vacation comes around,
there isa whole continent at my dispos-
al, and according as' I have been econ-
omical or luxurious, I may choose my
summer outing. Old age? Yes, .it
may come to me. It will come to my
married friends, and may find them
widows with a half-dozen children, to
work for. But if the worst comes and
I cannot work or find a snug corner in
the old ladies’ home, I ‘fancy I could
win some old : gray-haired lover who
would offer me a bome, There is gen-
erally some one around, you know,” and
the cold-hearted little beauty whisked
off around the corner, leaving her mar-
ried friend to reflect that perhaps all the
advantages were not, with. the matri-
monial state, as she had been taught to
believe.