HELE
Bellefonte, Pa., Sep. 8, 1893.
THE DAY'S DEMAND.
God give us men. A time like this demand
Strong minds, great hearts, true faith and
ready hands; ;
Men whom the lust of office does not kill;
Men whom the spoils of office cannot buy ;
Men who possess opinions and a will; ;
Men who have honor; men who will not lie;
Men who can stand before a demagogue
And damn his treacherous flatteries without
winking:
Tall men, sun-crowned, who live above the
0g, : .
In pi duty and in private thinking.
For while the rabble, with their thumb worn
creeds, aa
Their large professions and their little deeds,
Mingle in selfish strife, lo! Freedom weeps,
Wrong rules the land, and waiting Justice
sleeps. —Dr. J. G'. Holland.
BETWEEN THE LIGHTS.
Love! my Love! the sunset splendor
Left the world an hour ago;
The maiden moon, all shy and slender,
Swooning in the fervid glow. i
’Neath curtains drawn, the earth is listing
The wooing sibilants of the sea;
O’er land and wave to keep our t1ysting,
Your constant spirit speeds to me.
Love! my Love! at evening musing
Apart and lone, save for y our dream,
Memory past and present fusing
Into one swift, shining stream—
Leagues by hundreds numbered, parted
From eyes wan with vigils vain;
You, O leal and single heated!
Answer, throb for throb, my pain.
Love! my Love! wierd fancies thronging—
As the south winds crisp the sea—
Hope and boding, joy and longing,
Have their minor tone for me.
Yours may be of God's calm Forever,
Safe from jar or touch of fate,
Far as star-sown space can sever
From me who expect and wait.
Love! my Love! in purple drifting,
Summer dusk the valley fills;
To the leaning sky uplifting 5
Reverent brows, rise altered hills.
By the meaning hush of even,
By the mirrored deep in deep, .
By your bourne or earth or heaven,
I know your promised tryst you keep.
—Manrion Harland in Harper's Baar,
AN IRONY OF FATE.
Being the Story of Mrs. Ormiston’s Match-Mek
inge
BY NELLIE E. C. SCOTT.
Mrs. John Ormiston and her friend,
Annie Churchill, sat together upon the
piazza of the Ormiston residence in a
delightful atmosphere of confidence
and good-fellowship. They had been
the vest of friends and comrades
through all the changefal years of
childhood and girlhood, but this was
their first meeting since the marriage
of the elder three years before.
It had seemed a little strange at first
this meeting after their long separation,
but now every vestige of constraint had
disappeared, and the day had been
filled with amusing reminiscences,
from their first day together at the dis-
trict school, where they at once be-
came rivals for the teacher's favor as
in the pursuit of knowledge, represent-
ed by such phases as, “I see an ox,”
“Can the nag run?” “let the lad go,”
and such like. 3
Viewed at this distance, those early
experiences appeared much less mo-
mentous than they bad done twenty
years ago, and the friends laughed till
they cried in recalling them.
“And you remember, Julie, our little
cavalier, Benny Holmes, who carried
our hearts in his bosom for so many
years ?”’
“Yes; we all loved him because of
his curling chestnut locks, and his
dark eyes and domineering ways,” re-
plied Mrs. Ormiston.
“So I used to think, but do you
know I saw him this summer for the
first time in years, and when 1 looked
for those dazzling dark eyes they were
the faded-est kind of a blue! And,
too I had always thought of him as
wedded to a high-horn, beautiful dam-
sel, while his wile is the plainest little
woman imaginable! Heigho! I sup-
pose you think I’m wonderfully hila-
rious, Julie, but it’s a case of ‘eat,
drink and be merry, tor to-morrow you’
—return to a miserable existence.”
“Why, Aunie!”
“It is, indeed. I may as well tell
you—we never used to have any se
crets from each other, you know—that
I am tormented almost to death over:
an affair of the heart, not my heart,
either, but that of a—no, I won’t abuse
him behind his back, for he's really a
good fellow if only he had any tact.
But there ! how can one expect a mar
to have tact when three women are
without a particle of it 2”?
“This is news,” commented Mrs.
Ormiston. “You've never mentioned
it in your letters.”
“No, I was not sufficiently interes
ted ; it’s ovly mother and the girls who
consider him—Bryant, his name is—a
great catch, I have refused him over
and over, but they keep niging me to
reconsider. I suppose it's natural for
a man to persist when his intended
mother and sister-in-law are on his
side, though. At any rate he is terri-
bly persistent, but 1t won’t do him a
bit of good.”
“That's right ; don’t be coerced,”
“I shan’t."”
“By the way, what's become of
Frank Warren 7’ asked Mrs. Ormis-
ton.
“He ig still in Dixville, I believe,”
“It has always seemed such a pity
about him ; I used to think that you
and he were made for each other, An.
nie,”
“I thought so myself for years.
Ever since we were children together I
used to think if I ever married any-
body it would be Frank. But some-
how when it came to the point, I
couldn’t, I've never regretted any-
thing in the world as I did my treat.
ment of him, but what could I do?
And he was 80 good through it all—he
never reproached me once,”
“He's still single 7’
Yes i
“And free 2"
“That I don't know, of course.” .
“Sometimes. Annie, I've thought
that perhaps, if you two should meet
again—it Frank should ask you now—"
Annie laughed.
“Even that unmaidenly thought has
occurred to me. But it won’t happen.
A man’s constantcy is seldom of three
years’ duration, unless it has some-
thing to look forward to; although—
pardon my egotism—I think his would
stand the test if anyone’s did. Butit’s
only in my lonesome moods that the
thought has presented itsel!, Even if
the affair could be re-opened it would
probably end as it did before. But I
forgot, Julie, in telling you all this
stuff that you are a married woman
now, and married women, I believe,
hold it a duty to have no secrets, even
of their friends, from their husbands.”
“Why, Annie, could you think that
of me? Be sure I shall not tell John
a word of what you've told me,” her
friend replied.
Three months after that talk on the
piazza Mrs. Ormiston started on a visit
to Sorrelton, her old home. This visit
to Sorrelton was her ostensible object,
the one she mentioned to her husband;
but the lady had thought a good many
times of that conversation and had re-
solved to kill two birds with one stone,
80 to speak. The happiness of two hu-
man beings might be at stake, she ar-
gued, and Mrs. John Ormiston was not
the woman to shirk an unpleasant duty
when so much might depend upon her
action. She would stop off at Dixville
over a train or two, interview Frank
Warren and then proceed upon her
journey. True, she had not seen Mr.
Warren in years; perhaps he would
think it an odd proceeding. Bat then
it was the message, not the bearer of it,
that he would be interested in.
With all her lofty motive a sense of
duplicity was uppermost in her mind
as she bade John good bye. ‘ Dear fel-
low how kind he was and how sorry to
see her go. He never had any secrets
from her. But—well thie should be
the last.
At Frank Warren’s boarding place,
in Dixville, she was told that the
young man was not expected home un-
til 6.45 that evening, so Mrs. Ormiston
decided in the interval to call upon
and take tea with a cousin of her hus-
‘band, Miss Sarah Clark. Miss Clark
urged her guest to stay, buc Julie ex
cused herself on the plea of another
call and by saying that she must take
the 7.20 train for Sorrelton. :
Mr. Warren had not returned at 6.45.
It was in fact, after the 7.20 train had
gone that he made his appearance.
He recognized his’ visitor at once and
readily assented to her request that he
accompany her in her walk to the sta-
tion, as she had something to say to
him.
It was hard for her to begin her sto-
ry, although Frank seemed the sane
good comrade he had been when they
were playmates, but the time was
short and she must hurry.
“Frank, do you remember Annie
Cnurchill 2”
He started so violently at the ques
tion that Julie’s hand almost slipped
from his arm.
“Yes,” he said.
“It is about her that I came to see
you.”
“Ts she ili 2” Le asked quickly.
“No”—a long pause. “You will
pardon me, one question: Do you still
love he ?”
He turned and faced his companion.
“Tnat’s a very strange question,” he
said coldly.
“I grant it, but you will answer it?"
“Why, what isthe use? Why have
you brought up the thing? Do you
know that you have undone in a min-
ute what it has taken me years to ac-
complish ?’” he asked.
“But suppose for a minute that An-
nie was mistaken in her feelings when
she refused you—mind, I don’t say
that such is the case, this may be noth-
ing more than a fancy of mine; but I
believe she is interested in no one else,
and I wondered if you still cared
enough for her to run the risk ot an-
other refusal. You must d:stinctly un-
derstand, however, that she knows
nothing of this; if she should ever
find it out there would be an end to
our friendship.”
“I understand, and I thank you,” he
said gravely, and then they parted.
Mrs, Ormiston was very much sur-
prised when she returned home a week
later to find no one awaiting her at the
station, for John bad never before
failed to perform this duty, even after
the briefest of absences. She stopped
at his office on her way home, but Mr,
Ormiston had not been there since
morning, the clerk told her. Julie be-
gan to be alarmed. John must be at
home sick !
It seemed hours before she reached
the house, for she could not rid herself
of the feeling that something dreadful
had happened or was about to happen ;
and this feeling was intensified when a
hasty search through = the rooms
showed her her husband was not there.
But she did find ‘a letter in John's
handwriting and openingit with tremb-
ling fingers, she read :
Since you care so little for me as to
invent excuses for visiting Massachu-
setts, in order to meet another man, I
will no longer be a bar to your free.
dom.
Not another word. - He did not even
address her as his wife, did not say
where he was going, did not even ex-
press a regret for the happy years they
bad spent together.
It was as if the sky had fallen, as if
the world had come to an end, and
she were sitting there in darkness and
chaos. It was idle to look for a gleam
of hope in that pitiless message. John
was gone, and she would never see him |
again unless by accident, for she knew
how immoveable he was once his mind
was made up.
“Oh, what a fool, what a fool I have
beer,” she cried, rousing herself.
“Why didn’t I let them work out their
own fate without my interference!
What are they all to me now that my
husband has thrown me over 1”
Another-sheet of paper slipped from
the envelope to the floor. Perhaps
this would explain matters. She
picked it up ‘and read listlessly, for
my own surprise, came a8 a relief rath. |
nothing could hurt her now, since the
blow of blows had fallen :
DixviILLE, Oct. 8.
My Dear Cousin: I think you
would better look more closely after
your wife's movements. She called
here and stayed to tea on the evening
of the 2nd ; I thought, although she
did not say so, that she had stopped
over on purpose to see me, as she said
she must take the 7.20 train for Sorrel-
ton. But, although she left me early,
it was after eight o'clock when I saw
her walking arm in arm with a hand.
some young map, who she addressed
as “Frank.” They were conversing so
earnestly that they did not see me,
Doubtless your wife can explain the
discrepancy, at any rate I thought it
my duty to tell you. Sincerely your
cousin, Saran CLARK.
This finished, Julia threw herself up-
on the bed, and gave way to her mis.
ery. Surely, there had never been
such a wretched woman before, she
thought, Robbed not only ot happi-
ness and her husband, but of good
name as well, if this conscienceless
creature chose to publish her to the
world. Of the terrible night that fol-
lowed her home-coming, she remem-
bered bat little, When morning came
it found her with a wild regret that
she was still alive,
Her first and most natural impulse,
when she could look at things more
calmly, was to telegraph to her
husband’s people, asking if he
were there—to inquire of his friends,
some of them might know of his
whereabouts. But pride immediately
forbade such a course. Why should
she proclaim her humiliation before
she was really obliged to? And as for
calling him back—uo, she would not
do it, He had gone of his own volition
and he might stay. If he had so little
confidence in her, they were better
apart.
Her anger grew warmer as she
nursed it. How unjust, how unmanly
of him, to forsake his wife at the first
breath of suspicion!
She sat down at her desk and wrote
a letter to the runaway—a letter as
cold and as cutting as] she knew
how to make it, ending by telling him
that she would not seek the return of
an unwilling wate, but would leave
the place at once and go to earn her
living.
This letter written, she enclosed it
in'an envelope directed to John’s fath-
er, requesting that it be given or for-
warded to him atthe first opportunity.
Then Julie set about collecting her
few personal belongings.
It cut her to the heart to take down
stonily at his wife,
der,” said he, grimly, “I really should
act upon this discovery, and that fate
was kind to me. Sincerely your triend,
“FRANK WARREN.”
Late in the afternoon, when every.
thing was in readiness for ber depart
ure on the morrow, Julie started for a
walk along the quiet way for, now
there was nothing more to be done, it
seemed that she should go wild in the
silent, empty house. She walked long
and aimlessly ; it was almost dusk
when she returned to the house, and
as she let herself in with a latch-key a
tall figure advanced to meet her in the
shadowy ball—it was John ?
With a little shriek she dropped up-
on the hall seat, and John, who had
taken in at a glance the haggard face
and dejected-looking little figure, was
at ber side in an instant.
“Julie, what does that devilish letter
of Sarah’s mean? Who was it she
saw you with in Dixville? She was
mistaken, wasn’t she 2’ he asked with-
out giving her time to answer.
With a tragic though ineffectual
movement, seeing that her hushand
held her fast, Julie attempted to wave
him away. So he was sorry, was he?
He had repented and come back, had
he? Well, she'd teach him a lesson !
“I was walking with Frank Warren
and the letter is true,” she said defiant-
ly ; it was a pity if she couldn’t be de-
fiant and indignant after all he had
made her suffer.
relieve her mind !
sir.
Yes, she would re-
“Don’t touch me,
Go away I”
This unequivocal reply to his ques-
tions changed the melting mood at
once. dJobn withdrew to a respectful
distance and regarded his wife stonily.
“Ah ?” said he, “Mr. Frank Warren
has kept himself in the background
pretty effectually—I don’t remember
that
However, it's quite soon enough—
quite soon enough,” striding up and
down the room, while Julie followed
him with blazing eyes.
this morning that perhaps I had been
basty—that the whole thing must be a
gigantic blunder ; but now that I have
your own word for it—if yon love an-
other man better than me--"
I've ever heard of him before.
“I thought
“John Ormiston! Now I never
shall speak to you so long as—Loye
another man better than than you!
Well, it wouldnt be a hard thing to do,
for I hate you, and—and all the rest of
the abomiable sex, except poor papa.
I'm going to him now—he won’t be-
lieve evil of me—he l-loves me.
‘that you can be so unjust to me after
all these years—’’this last from the
cushions.
But
John Ormiston stood and looked
“I ghouldn’t won-
the little things that John and she had | not wonder if you expect me to apolo-
put in place with such delightful labor
when theyifirct went to housekeeping.
With what bright hopes and expecta-
tions they had looked forward to the
happy years ahead. And now, she
felt that the desolation of this hour
would weigh upon her heart forever.
The desk which they had used in
common was such a’ characteristic af-
fair that Julie hesitated to disturb its
miscellaneous contents, There were
hastily drawn sketches of John's mak-
ing, some humorous or descriptive bits
to be worked up into a story when he
got time, clippings of verse from the
papers, plans of houses laid by against
that looked for day when they should
“build.” Everything spoke of John,
but the wife would not listen ; she took
a bundle of letters from a far corner,
they were tied with white ribbon, as is
the time-sanctivned right of love letters,
and would have hurned them, bat some
how she could not, In the secret
drawer where their few valuables were
kept she found a little pile of money, a
layer of bills, with a pyramid of gold
pieces ou top. Julie counted it in sur
prise—there was about $100, which
must have been nearly all the ready
money he possessed. This was for her | [
manifestly, but—
“I won’t touch a penny of it,” she
said, bitterly, “he doesn’t know me
yet.”
In another corner hidden away un-
der a pile of papers, was a tiny Japan-
ese box, and this Julie opened with
something like curiosity. Inside was
something that melted her pride in an
instant—an exquisite little watch with
her monogram on its shield, while in-
side the cover was the inscription :
To Julie, ou her birthday, with her
husband’s love.
This, then, was to have been a sur-
prise, her birthday coming upon the
12th.
As she read the words through
blinding tears Julie gradually came to
look at things from John’s point of
view. He knew nothing of Frank
Warren or of Annie Churchill's affairs,
Again, his cousin Sarah Clark, was a
good woman according to her lights.
She was uncompromizingly truthful,
and John could have no “reason for
doubting that she had acted, as she
said, from a sense of duty.
The postman’s whistle interrupted
her musings, and her heart almost
stood still as she held out her hand for
the letter, for it might be from John!
But it was not. The letter bore the
postmark of Dixville, a name now
hateful in her sight.
“Mr, Dear Mrs. Ormiston,” it ran,
“no doubt you are anxious to hear
what results followed from our recent
interview. Briefly, then, [ called up-
on Miss Churchill two days ago and
renewed my offer of marriage.
The proposal seemed to pain her ex-
ceedingly. She was very sorry, had
hoped that I had forgotten her long
ago. But she could not marry me, be-
cause—she loved another, a very re
cent acquaintance, as I heard later. So
that is ended. ;
“Now, lest I awaken undeserved
sympathy in your kind heart, I must
add that Ancie's confession, greatly to |
er than a blow. In that moment I re- |
alized that T had been cherishing the |
shadow! of love, rather than its sub. |
stance, and that my heart was really th
enlisted elsewhere, Perhaps,
will be glad to know that 1
and
gize.”
“No.” she said, “I don’t. I expect
you to be a brute—if you want to.
Apologize to papa, if you like, but
don’t apologize to me.”
“Julia,” he burst out, in heart
breaking tones, “can’t you see I'm in
the devil ofa temper and that yon
ought to have some consideration for
my feelings 2”? .
“0h,” said Julia “go away !”
“I won’ty)” said John. “I aever
meant to. I couldn’t be such an ass as
that —bat what would you do if you
were jealous 2 Wouldn’t you make a
fool of yourselt, too?” he inquired,
with starling distinctness.
Julie’s heart was not adamant, her
righteous wrath not proof against this
argument.
lifted her tearstained face a little, and
asked :
After some hesitation she
“And you'll n-never be jealous and
hateful again ?"
“No, never, if we live to be a thous-
i.”
“And you don’t think I love any-
body else 9”
“Perish the thought.”
“And—and John, I didn’t mean that
really bated you.”
“No, my dear, only that you detest-
ed me.”
“John I" She slips her hand into his
as he seats himself at her side. “Then
I'li let you read this letter—though
you don’t deserve to.”
When John had finished reading
Frank Warren's letter he took Julie in
his arms and kissed ber with much
tenderness,
“Poor little girl,” said he, “poor lit-
tle girl! What a brute I’ve been |”
“You see, John,” she said, after tell-
ing the story in detail, “I thought my
mission was to make people happy, but
in this case they wouldu’t be made hap-
py, and so I didn’t succeed. Now I
don’t know who to try my powers on
next,”
“Suppose, my dear, you try your
hand on me,” said Jobn innocently.
“I'll be a perfectly willing subject, and
success is almost certain.”
“Why, what a bright idea!” said
she,— Times.
A Short Apple Crop.
The Demand Already Exceeds the Supply.
As a consequence of a report received
in this place to the effect that the apple
crop would be very light this year,
considerable
causedamong the fruit dealers.
excitement has been
According to the opinion of a well-
known auctioneer, the apple crop will
be only one-quarter of last season’s pro-
duction.
apples were shipped to Europe up to
the end of November.
falling off of 86,000 barrels as com-
pared with the shipments of 1891,
Large orders are said to be coming in
from the West for apples and the pres
ent demands is in excess of the supply.
The region best suited for the cultiva-
tion of the apple crop is limited, while
the demand is constantly increasing.
Last year 753,000 barrels of
This showed a
The consignment of oranges and lem-
ons to this market are also reported to
(be smaller this year than usual, a fact
apparent by the price being advanced
to $5.75.
A Baltimore exchange,
—— Civil engineers say the wings of
e butterfly display the greatest possible
too, you lightness combin
proceed to possible strength.
with the greatest
Physiology and Hyglene.—A Word to
Parents,
At this particular time, book agents
are busily engaged in many places in-
ducing school boards to adopt, under
the new free text book law, unrevised
and inferior physiologies. Parents
should be on the alert If they want truth
and not error tanght to their children.
The best text books on this topic, many
of which are revisions of old books have
received the endorsement of prominent
educators, which endorsement can be
found on :heir title pages, There is an
excellent variety of them, and, no ex-
cuse whatever exists for the regulation
or adoption ot ‘antiquated defective |
books. There would have been no need
of revision if the old books had not been
defective and ill graded ; fall of long |
technical terms, rendering the study |
difficult for the pupils. In the revised |
books these faults are corrected. Scme |
school boards are induced to buy charts, |
with one book for the teacher, instead. of |
placing books in the hands of the pupils
who can read. Physiology and Hygiene
is, by law, a regular study like Geo- |
graphy. Geographly is not taught !
without books, though maps sre used, !
Charts cannot take the place of books
in the hands of pupils, and at best ean
only be supplementary. The attempt |
to make them take the place of text |
books in the study of Physiology and |
Hygiene, is a violation of the law, and |
will roake the study a failure. The
School Laws and Decisions of Penn. |
sylvania, edition of 1892, page 115, |
paragraph 163, contains the following |
in relation to this study :-—*The sub. !
ject must be systematically studied as |
well as taught, which cannot be done |
without text books in the hands of |
the scholars. The proper preparation of |
the lessons assigned to the pupils in the
daily exercises of the schools, makes the |
use of text books absolutely necessary,
even if the law did not peremptorily re-
quire their general introduction, as it
does in this instance ”” Another section
prescribes oral instruction, as it does in
this instance.” Another section pre-
scribes oral instruction for pupils too
young to use books.
Parents should keep a strict watch on
this innovation of using charts instead
of text books in the hands of the pupils.
It may not be generally known that
several school boards in ‘the State have
forfeited the State appropriation to
which they would have been entitled,
through failure to fulfil the provision of
the law relating to Physiology and Hy-
giene. This law provides that every
pupil in every department of the public
schools shall be taught as a regular
study, the effects of alcoholic
drinks, stimulants and nar.
cotics upon the human system. School
boards which do not provide this teach-
ing for all pupils as the law requires,
cannot truthfully sign the Affidavit and
Certificate which must be returned to
the State Department of Public Instruc-
tion in order to secure the appropria-
tion ; and any school board which does
sign this when the study has not been
taught as a regular study to every pu-
pil, is simply swearing or affirming what
1s not true. Here is something for the
voters who elect such a school board to
reflect upon.
This warning teaching to which
every pupil is entitled, is apt to he spec-
ially negiected 1n the primary grades ;
while it is in these grades that it should
be most carefully taught, because 60 per
cent. of all pupils never get to the high-
er grades at all, Parents and all citizens
who regard the best interests of the
young, should by their watchfulness,
help them to receivé this teaching,
which may be of such lasting value.
Mary F. Lovell, Bryn Mawr, Pa.,
Superintendent of Department of Scien-
tific Temperance Instruction in W. C.
T. U. of Pennsylvania.
-
mcm.
How to Care for the Eyes.
The Cause. of Nearsightedness
Avoid it,
and How to
Probably ne part of the hody is so
little thought of as the eyes, and no part
is so deserving of attention. What
may be remedied by a litile attention is
very apt to be neglected until perman-
nent injury is done. Children’s eyes es-
pecially should be protected from strong
sunlight. Continued looking at bright
objects so fatigues the muscles of the
eye that squinting has been known to
result by reason of the weakness of tha
muscles. The same thing is encouraged
by the habit with some people of bring-
ing the finger or sume other object grad-
ually closer and closer to the eyes until
the eyes will be seen to draw closer to-
gether. These things should be care-
fully avoided.
Nearsightedness is caused by prolong-
ed reading in a sitting posture, the head
gradually falling on the chest and the
eyes thus getting too close to the book
or Pipe brings on a short focus defect
and makes necessary the use of glasses
for seeing far objects.
The sleeping room of children should
not have a light glaring into the eyes of
a child. A screen is very essily ‘made
of tin, or a piece of cardboard securely
fastened so that it will not get near the
light but will leave enough hight to see
with and enable the child to sleep with-
out scowling or squinting or being rest-
less from to much light.
When children have what is called a
cold in the eyes, it is because they have
caught a cold in the body, and the
remedy isto cure the cold, when the
eyes will recover likewise.
In case of accidents the best things to
use are cold water and very soft linen,
bathing the eye very gently.
. It is good to bathe the eyes with luke-
warm water, but it is very bad to do so
immediately before going out into a
cold atmosphere, as the warm water
makes the skin tender and produces a
drawn appearance around the eyes.
Witch hazel is a very good thing to
bathe the eyes with. It should be
diluted with water for children’s eyes.
Indications of trouble with the eyes,
such as squinting or nearsightedness,
should be at ae eens and the child
taken to an oculist to be fitted with
suitable glasses.
Ap eminent New York oculist says
one of the greatest secrets of healthful
eyes and good eyesight in children is
keeping them clean.
ES SSE
—— Greek paintings were executed in
distemper, with glue, milk, or white of
eggs, and on wood, clay, plaster, stone, !
parchment and canvas.
For and About Women.
Mrs. Phelps-Stokes recently bought a
tablecloth and napkins &«t a woman's
exchange tor which she paid nearly
300.
Miss Beulah True, of Hancock, Me.,
who furnished the illustrations for a
recently-published history of Castine,
acts this summer as purser on one of
the Maine steamers, of which her father
is captain. She is yet a student in the
Normal School at Castine, but is thor-
oughly conversant with nautical mat-
ters, and able to take her place at the
wheel.
That the Anglo-maniac wears “boots”
and “coats” and “petticoats” instead of
shoes, jackets and skirts ; “nibs” instead
of bathes; never telegraphs, but
“wires,” and says “I fancy,” but under
no circumstances “I guess.”
That college pins and club insigna
were never intended as a decoration for
the feminine corsage, and are decidedly
outre.
That the smart young woman of the
period never use the word ‘‘genticmen
except in referring to waiters and
coachmen.
The polka dot promises to gain in
popularity as cool weather advances.
Fabrics, ribbons, silks and garnitures of
every description exhibit the polka-dot
pattern. A novelty in foot-gear is the
low-cut house shoe of bronze kid,
stamped plenteously with gold polka
dots. This same design appears in sil-
ver and pale gold upon white kid.
Women, says a well-known physician
are breaking down more rapidly than
men. The reason of this is that they
allow themselves to take less real rest.
When a man drops business, he drops
itt. When a woman lets go ‘of any
work she may have in mind, she ties it
to her apron strings, as it were.
She has been taught through long
years of training that itis high crime
and misdemeanor to let anything escape
her mind. So, when she is supposed to
be at rest, she is constantly pinching
herself to see if she hasn’t torgotten
something. In this way she carries her
burden into her resting hours and sits
down among the roses of relaxation with
her foot on the treadle that turns the
grindstone of drudgery.
If men kept their noses to the grind-
stone as persistently as women they
would be nervous and irritable ‘beyond
compare.” If women would get
their own consent to rest they would
have better complexions, better stomachs
and a happier life.
Velvet collarettes separate from the
gown are among the autumn novelities
for completing street costumes. They
consist of a standing ruffle of doutle
bias velvet joined by & jetted gimp band
to a circular cape collar that is plain or
edged with narrow curled = ostrich
feathers. These will be worn in black
velvet, with any gown, or they may be
formed of colored velvet like that which
forms a portion of the gown.
Cafe noir is the darkest shade of brown
that will be worn this season. Ujiji or
mud color is ene of the latest. Chene is
a fashionable oak tint that is much used
in combination with reseda or golden
brown velvet or bengalime, Goldenrod,
maize, mandarin and honeysuckle are
the names of handsome yellow shades in
evenlng dress and millinery, and
“dawn,” the rosy, golden hue remains
the queen of all evening tints, it having
a wonderfully softening and beautifying
effect upon the complexion under artifi-
cial light. The lovely rose and reseda
shades have lost none of their popular.
ity.
"Don’t you eure if your duck suit gets
a spot on it before you are ready to put
the whole thing in the wash. Chalk is
the thing. In faet you hardly need to
put the rig in the wash the wholeseason.
Only of course, you must not let him
hug you, because chalk comes off.
Sleeves, as a rule. will be simple repe-
titions of those worn during the sum-
mer, subject to slight variations on ac-
count of changes in fabric. The Queen
Arne model with its full drooping
shoulder puff and close forearm ; the
bishop and the mutton-leg are still
prominent in the field. The Valois
shape with a closely-buttoned or laced
coat sleeve to the elbow, with pear-
shaped drapery above, is this season
often banded by ribbon, passementerie
or velvet, or slashed with insertions of
fancy silk or brocades. The Breton
and the Hungarian cap sleeves are seen
upon new combination gowns of benga-"
line and velvet, and are especially pop-
ular with very broad-shouldered women
who dislike huge balloon puffs and other
spreading elaborations on the sleeve
tops.
The most conspicuous shades among
the new colors are blue and brown,
though green will not lose 1ts standing
in the new goods. There are at least
six or seven new shades of brown, al}
more or less of the yellowish order, the
deepest of them being but little darker
than chestnut. Of the blues, the very
dark shades are falling somewhat into
disfavor with the extremely fashionable,
probably on account of the almost uni-
versal popularity of navy blue serge,
and the shades most shown are of that
intermediate kind which suggest tinges
of green or gray. /
A decided decrease in skirt widths isa
noticeable characteristic of autumn
fashions.
Buttons have disappeared in their
capacity as mere fasteners. Most gowns
seem to fasten nowhere at all, the com-
ing together of edges being accomplish
ed under frills, fullness and fiddle-dee-
dees of all sorts. When the button does
appear, its useful intent is quite subor-
dinated to its position as. an ornament.
To be sure it does button, and it is only
put where it can and should button,
but it is made of silver or gold and the
choicest workmanship is not too fine for
it.
That silver toilet ware is no longer
the correct caper, but that every girl
who knows what is what is making a
collection of brushes, mirrors and toilet
boxes of yellow ivory.
That silk petticoats however dainty,
are to be superseded by fine linen and
lace-trimmed lawn for house and car-
riage wear.