a
MRI
Deora Watfpont
C—O leita
Bellefonte, Pa., Oct. 20, 1893.
NOT ALL DOWN HILL.
E. 8. L. THOMPSON.
Ah, no, it is pot all down hill,
Life's upward paths bear carol still;
Sun and joy amid the sorrow
Heart of hope can always borrow,
Love's laugh runs with a tender thrill ;
Thy destiny is not down hill!
0, hark the rush of upward wings :
That through the grieving shadow springs!
No careless hand thy soul doth till,
And truth prevails—tis not down hill!
There's healthful gain amid life’s pain,
For hope shall find its noon again!
This holy sacrament keep
The tides of Time, Ah, ye who Weed
The skylarks song the stars doth t
Thy destiny is not down hill!
Some joyful angel sings and sings,
Unfettered thy Immortal wings.
rill,
Rise from the clod, toward thy God,
In heigher heights the soul hath trod!
Take thou the good, take thou the ill, A
This chorus rings. ‘‘Not all down hill’
The strong grows stronger in His will,
For honest os there’s no down hill!
— Womankind.
deed the scene before them was a bril-
liant one. :
“you certainly seem absorbed,” said
Mr. Balfour reproachfully, “You have
not looked in my direction for fully
five minutes.” Le
Kulamea’s eyes sought his with a
soft light in their depths.
«I have not forgotten you,” she said
half gayly, half seriously.
“No, I am here to see that you
don’t,” he responded. “But how will
it be a month from now, when I am
gone? Will you remember me then, I
wonder 2’
«I ghall never forget you,’ she said
slowly.
“Have you never been away from
here? he asked after a moment.
“No, I have never left the islands,”
she replied. “Trips to Kadai, Mani
and Hilo have been the extent of my
travelings.”
“How I should enjoy taking you
with me to Washington next winter!”
he said. “Your enthusiasm would ef-
fectually prevent me from heing bored.”
There was a pause. She toyed with
her fan and did not reply.
“Would you like to go—Kulamea ?’’
KULAMEA.
A Little Romance of an Island in lhe Southern
Sea.
BY RICHARD HAMILTON POTTS.
It was a perfect day in Honolulu.
The trade winds were blowing fresh
from the mountains, conteracting the
effects of the sun and preventing the
air from being oppressively warm.
In such weather one's thoughts nat-
urally reverted to Waikiki and a bath
in the surf, and when Francis Balfour
at last stood on the beach at the “Vil-
la,” after an enjoyable ride from the
hotel in town, he found a merry party
romping in the waves,
“Pau, Kulames, pau,” cried a young
girl, as one of her companious, after
diving out of sight afar off, came up
beneath her and gave her a surprise
and a ducking at the same time. A
good matured, wet battle ensued, and
for a moment nothing could be seen
‘but a cloud of spray and whirling arms
and legs. At last the combatants
paused, sputtering and choking. Af-
‘ter a short rest, in which they bobbed
up and down and amicably ate seaweed
‘together, Kulamea seized a board float-
ing near by, and waiting until a huge
wave came along, she mounted it and
-audaciously ‘role over two or three
‘breakers. She was evidently quite at
home tin the water, and no form of
.aguatic sport seemed unknown to her.
In the meantime several of the others,
waitinga good opportunity, rose with
‘the bounding surf and were washed up
.on the sands near Mr. Balfour, who
thus hatl a chance to observe them
more dlosely. [le saw they were all
Hawaiians which probably accounted
for their daring and enjoyment in this
rather boisterous tide. Finally Kula.
‘mea ‘forsook her board and joined
‘them. $n unusually high crested rol-
ler brought her almost to the feet of
‘the young man who was watching her
‘with interest. For a minute she lay
‘breathless, then she wiped the salt
water out of her eyes and opened them
‘with a frank and friendly gaze.
“Aloha, Mr. Balfour,” she said,
‘with a charming smile, which showed
:4 flash of the whitest teeth. “You
:are coming:in, eh ?
As she spoke he remembered having
‘met ber themight before at a band con-
.gert at the hotel, but he had been in-
troduced to several at the same mo-
ment and merely bowed. He had
‘thought, at the time, that the young
;girlilooked like an oriental princess,
with her graceful dignified figure and
ibeautiful face, and he had learned that
she was the daughter of a wealthy Ha-
wwaiian, descended from a 'longitine of
Wois.
“Are you. geing to stay in long
enough to make it worth my while ?”
he:asked.
“4Y es indeed,” she ‘declared. “The
waters €o warm one can be in for
any length of time without getting a
chill, you know.”
4 will be with you in a minute,
then,” ‘he.cried, as he dashed off to
put.on a ‘bathing swit.
Hee had always prided himself on
his swimming, but ‘he found that Kul-
ames was a match for him. She had
been throught up in vhe water from the
time she wasitwo vears old, she laugh-
ingly ¢old im, and did not deserve
any evedit for her powers.
They saw a great deal of each other
duringrthe days that followed.
In vhe morning Kulamea would go
downtewn, in her little phaeton.
She weuld be sure to meet Mr. Bal-
four and, after a few moments chat, he
would get in and drive with her while
she accomplished her errands. Before
they partefi some arrangement would
be made dor the afttermoon. They
would mouat their horses and ride up
Punchbowl, where they would rest for
a while, or whey would go to an open
air band coneert, or perhaps, spend the
afternoon im the large airy lanai of
Kulamea’s home, where Mr. Balfour
would loungeia a hammocck aad Kul-
amea, when gired of talking, would
sing her pretty mative songs to the ac-
companiment of her ukelele softness ;
and 80 he felt thoroughly at home and
free to come and go as he pleased.
Any ore would have noticed what a
good looking couple they were as they
«stood, side by side, on the veranda of
the palace one eveaing, about a week
.after they had firet met. Oa a large
imposing card, with @ crown engraved
in gold and red on ite white surface.
{Francis Balfour had been informed
that, by command of her majesty, the
«chamberlain of the household invited
thim to be present at a ball at Iolani
Palace.
In response to the invitation he had
appeared promptly at 9 o'clock and
soon after he was making his best
daneingachool bow before Queen Lili-
uokalani. That ceremony over he had
sought fulamea, whom he found |
looking unusually beautiful in a gauzy |
white gowa which, set off her dark,’
rich coloring to the best advantage. |
“Is it not imteresting!” she ex-
claimed, with g sigh of delight and in-
he asked softly. At last she looked up
into his eyes. He flushed a little and,
after a moment, he rather abruptly
said :
“This is one of the waltzes you
promised me. Shall we go in and
dance?”
With a slight start she took his arm
aud they went into the immense ball
room and soon were gliding over the
polished floor to the music of the well
known Hawaiian band. ,
The next morning Kulamea starte
out quite early. She was going to
drive through Kapiolani Park to the
house of an old Kanaka whom she
wanted to have lomi-lomi her mother,
who was suffering from an attack of
rheumatism, and by arrangement Mr.
Balfour was to accompany ber,
“How are you?’ he asked,as he
stepped into the phaeton and shook
hands with her. “You don’t look a
bit tired after all that dancing.”
“No, I slept well,” she responded,
“and I am thoroughly rested.”
“Who was that fellow with whom
you danced so often 2’ he continued in
an aggrieved tone.
“You do not mean yourself, eh?”
laughingly.
“Not exactly! That tall, handsome
man who was hanging around you all
through supper.”
“He is the the luna of the sugar
plantations, Non Mai, I have known
him for so many years that he is like
a brother.”
“I have no faith in adopted broth-
ers,” he said, “and I am inclined to be
terribly jealous. Every time you
spoke to him I wanted to choke him.”
“Ah, I can sympathize with jeal-
ously,” she earnestly rejoined, ‘but
you have no cause—"'
“I know I have not the right to be
jealous of you,” he interrupted hotly.
“T did not say right,” she gently re-
gumed. “Our friendship gives you the
right, but it should also preclude the
cause.” Her mouth trembled.
“Kulamea!” he cried, with a repent.
ant ring in his voice, “I know you are
my dear, true, little girl, but when one
is fond of a person one is apt to be un-
reasonable.”
“Yes,” she said, reflectively,” I
would be utterly so.” Thenshe added
with intensity : “I could die of the mis-
ery of being jealous.” :
“Better kill your rival and live to re-
gain the love that had wandered,” he
rejoined lightly. :
“Neo, my nature is revengeless. I
might admire a character capable of so
much force, but I should simply give
up and pine away, I know myself well
enough to be convinced of that.”
He did not answer, and for a few
minutes a deep silence prevailed be-
tween them.
“Well, last night's gayety has
brought its reaction today. I’m
afraid,” said Mr. Balfourat last. “We
are getting positively gloomy. Come !
tell me about your luau to-night.
What penalty is attached it you don’t
eat poi?”
Kulamea laughingly assured him
that the charm of the evening feast
lay in the fact that it was a free and
easy affair, where one did as one
p)sased and everybody was happy and
jolly.
“You must not.come to see me this
evening,” she added, “I shall be too
busy.”
“Ah, let me help,” he pleaded.
“No, no,” she said. ‘Youn would be
in the way. You must not come be-
fore 7 o'clock.”
“What shall I do all the afternoon,”
he groaned. “I dou’t see how I am to
get along without you.”
“You foolish boy,” said Kulamea,
in her soft, caressing voice, ‘‘can you
not read, or write letters, or make a
call, or—"’
“No, I shall make use of the tele
phone in Honolulu style, and ring you
up every half hour for a little chat. I
will hear you speak, anyway, and I
will try to imagine how you are look-
ing.”
Her errand accomplished, Kulamea.
insisted upon hurrying home and
shortly after they were bidding each
other good-bye until the evening.
“Be sure to come to the telephone
when it rings,” were Mr. Balfour's
parting words, uttered in the most dole-
ful tope of voice.
He looked very handsome, in his
light flannel suit, with his straw hat’
pushed back on his’ close-cropped fair
hair, as he walked briskly up Nuuanu
valley in the cool of the evening, to-
ward Kulamea’s home.
Kulamea was receiving her guests,
looking very handsome in a simple,
white muslin with a lei of yellow flow:
ers around her neck and a smaller one
wound in the coils of her dark hair.
“Everybody must wear a lei at a poi
supper,” she said, as she took one,
made out of the sweet-scented maili,
from a basket beside her, full of the
pretty wreaths, and tied it on Mr. Bal
four. “You did not telephone this af-
ternoon, eh,” she added, and the little
interjection rang plaintively.
#]—I—did not like to disturb you,”
he said, with a slight flush.
“Good boy! ButI would not have
minded, really. I missed you, too, al-
though I was busy—Oh, here is Miss
Roswell. Is she not lovely? You
must not lose your heart. She came
on the last steamer and brought a let
ter to us from some friends in San
Francisco.
She greeted the young lady in her
graceful, cordial way and then—*‘Let
me iatroduce Mr. Balfour to you,” she
said.
“Oh, we are old friends,” cried the
girl. “We met to-day at lunch and
spent the afternoon together!”
Kulamea glanced quickly at Mr.
Balfour and then turned to receive
some more of her friends.
It was several moments before she
spoke to the couple at her side again.
“T think we will go into the lanai
now,” she said, addressing them at
last. Her bright color had somewhat
paled and her voice sounded a little
spiritless.
“Will you give your arm to Miss
Roswell, Mr. Balfour. Ihave put you
near the centre, next to me.”
Kulamea was very quiet, and at
times seemed hardly to hear the laugh-
ter and fun around her.
Why so pensive?” asked Mr. Bal.
four. “I don’t believe you like poi af-
ter all.”
“Qh, one cannot always be jolly,”
ghe said, with attempted carelessness.
“That is true. I did not feel very
jolly this afternoon when 1 could not
see you.”
“And yet you did not telephone.
You were too well entertained to re-
member I existed,” she said quickly.
He looked at her steadily a moment
and then turned away and addressed a
remark to Miss Roswell.
For some little time Kulamea vainly
tried to laugh and talk with those
around her. At last she could stand
it no longer.
“Have you tasted bread fruit yet,
Mr. Balfour ?"" she asked.
“Yes, thank you,” he replied grave-
ly and coldly.
There was a pause.
“What is the matter ?”” she asked.
“Ah, nothing,” he said.
“But your manner is so changed,”
she protested.
“Oh. I merely feel hurt. I don’t
suppose you care or you would hardly
have spoken to me in that unjust way.”
“I do care,” she answered warmly,
“] was wrong, but I'm so sorry. You
will forgive me, eh?
Of course they were good friends af-
ter that, and Kulamea promised to
spend the next afternoon with him.
But Miss Rosswell was a very at-
tractive girl and she was staying at
the hotel, where, of course she would
constantly meet Mr. Balfour, and the
cloud on Kulamea’s horizon was not
blown away, though the brightness oc-
casionally around it might have partly
dispelled it at times.
While she was with him
she was convinced that force
of circumstances only and not inclina-
tion was responsible for this change.
But when she was alone a hundred ar-
guments assailed her to prove that a
man’s will was his way.
“Somebody told me this morning
that yon were ‘simply wrapped up’ in
Miss Rosswell,” she said to him one
day with exaggerated carelessness.
“Honolulu is a great place for gos-
sip,” he responded, with a laugh.
“Not more so than any place of its
size,” she rejoined. “When a man is
markedly devoted to a girl it is com-
mented on all over the world.
“How absurd I’ he exclaimed. The
Roswells have been very kind to me.
They are constantly writing me and
doing nice things for me, and I try to
be as polite as I can, in my turn. But
there it begins and ends. Miss Lucia
cannot hold my attention for any length
of time. She amusesme for awhile, but
at the end of two hours I am always
ready to leave her. Ah! Kulamea,
why do you listen to what others say
of me? Is that acting like a loyal
friend ? Judge of me for yourself. IfI
ever fail toward you, then tell me, but
do not give a thought to the idle talk
of outsiders.”
And Kulamea was ashamed of her
suspicions, until a day or two later,
when he asked her to change the hour
of an engagement he had with her, and
she found it was to enable him to take
a walk with the girl who was causing
her so many heartaches.
Under any circumstances she could
not have felt contented, for, with the
rapidity for which the flight of time is
noted in Hawaii, the sailing day of the
Mariposa, that was to carry Mr. Bal.
four away, was drawing near, and then
—and thea—
It occurred to her to go into the office
of the steamship company and see if
be had been booked to leave.
“Good morning, Alfred,” she said to
the clerk who came forward as she en-
tered the office. “I want to see who
is to leave on the Mariposa.”
“Did you meet Mr. Balfour? He left
here just before you came in,” said the
young man as he handed her the list.
“I did not see him,” she said rather
absently, as she eagerly scanned the
names, A heavy black line was drawn
through that of Francis Balfour.
“What did you say, Alfred?’ she
asked. Her eyes were shining like
stars, her cheeks were flushed. “I beg
your pardon; I wasthinking of some.
thing else.”
“I said he was lucky to be able to
get a stateroom, as he seemed 80 anx-
ious to go on that particular steamer.
Risky to leave it so late.”
“What—who—""
“Why, Mr. Balfour; he decided to
go on the Australia, the day after to-
morrow, instead of waiting for the
Mariposa, and I gave him the very last
berth.” |
Kulamea did not answer.
“Let me see if I know anybody else |
going,’ she said at last, slowly. Her |
voice sounded very queer, surely; or |
was it her imagination? She cleared
her throat. “It is so hot,” she added, |
with an effort, as she glanced quickly |
down the new page he gave he. “I
suppose everyone —everyone— will —
be
“What is the matter, Kulamea? I
you like a drink? The heat has been
too much for you.”
Kulamea heard his voice, as if ina
dream. Her eyes were staring at the
paper on the counter before her.
Francis Balfour, she read, and alittle
further along, Miss Lucia Roswell.
Those two names seemed to stand
out as though they were raised from
the paper. She could see nothing else.
“Drink this, Kulamea,” she heard
Alfred say. “I willring for an express
to take you home.”
There was a feeling in her throat as
though she could not talk, and her
mouth ceemed so stiff. She tried to
smile.
“I—I’'m all right,” she murmured.
“] was foolish to walk in the sun.” Oh,
how glad she would be to get home
again and in her own room.
That afternoon Mr. Balfour called.
He talked of the too long neglected
business affairs that were hurrying him
off ; of the many trials and few pleas:
ures of a man who had his way to
make in the world.
Kulamea said very little. She was
proud and she was inscrutable.
The two day were gone, as if they
were but as many miautes, and Kula-
mea found herself edging her way
through the throngs of the people on
the deck of the Australia. It was a
bright, gay scene. The wharf was
crowded with a motley mixture of many
nationalities. Stationed in their midst,
attired in their white duck suits, was
the Hawaiian band, playing alternately
sprightly and sad airs.
Kulamea found Mr. Balfour stand-
ing in'the midst of a group of girls, who
were animately chatting and laughing
as they artistically wound their leits
about him,
All too quickly the minutes flew by.
The gong had sounded. Alohas were
heard on all sides! Some tears were
being shed, but for the most part all
seemed liveliness and light-heart jo-
viality.
Kulamea turned to Mr. Balfour, and,
raising her arms, threw over his head
an exquisite and rare lei of violets.
“Do not forget me, Kulamea,”’ he
said softly, and, separating a few ofthe
sweet-scented blossoms, he gave them
to her. For a moment they looked at
each other in silence. The band was
playing “Eleile.” It had been their
favorite song, and the one she had sung
most often to him.
“Lipolipo ka wal o eleile
Huibul I ka noho a ka ohu
I mehana 1ka lau a ke aloha.
I ka pili acao ana iho.”
She whispered slowly, and seemingly
half absently, with the music.
The last sad, soft strains died away
and she held out her hand.
“Aloha nui,” she said simply. In
another minute she was gone.
All that afternoon and evening Mr.
Balfour was restless, He could not
forget the look in Kulamea's eyes.
“I could die of the misery of being
jealous,” she had said. “I should sim-
ply give up and pine away.”
But, pshaw | he was growing maud-
lin. He had done nothing. Besides,
she must have realized that she was a
native.
He wished Lucia Roswell was not
seasick. It was very dull. He could
not get interested in a book—he could
not even smoke. How that song rang
in his head:
“Lipolipo ka wal o eleile
Huibul Ika no bo a ka ohu—"
He really believed he had been in
love. But perhaps it was only the mo-
tion of the vessel after all.
Chinese Inn’s Petuliarities.
Its Chief Glory is Its Waiters, but Its Attendent
Animals Are Attractive.
No one who has ever stayed at a Chi-
nese hotel, says a London paper, is like-
ly to forget his experience. They are
all built on the same plan—a large
court-yard, around the four sides of
which are built rows of small rooms, the
restaurant and office being in front.
The buildings are built of sun-dried
bricks, and are usually in the last stages
of delapidation. Each small room con-
tains a brick bed in which a fire can be
lighted for warmth in winter. There is
no furniture but a rough chair and per-
baps a table, while the windows are
nothing but frames covered with paper.
The average Chineseinn is usually a
menagerie and zoological garden com-
bined.
Inthe yard can be seen and heard
mules, donkeys, dogs, cats, fowls of all
kinds, pigs, and camels, while in the
rooms where the weary traveller is sup-
posed to rest is also a rich variety, the
scorpion, and at times a small variety of
the centipede, often taking stinging
measures to repel any attempts at friend-
ship. The chief glory, however, of the
inn is the waiter. This important func-
tionary in Ckina has that patronizing
air which distinguishes his confreres of
the profession in other countries.
The inevitable napkin always accom-
panies him. With it in summer he
mops his sweating brow or bare shoul-
pers, while in winter, wrapped around
his head, 1t protects him from wind and
rain. At all seasons of the year it is
the only article he has with which to
clean tables and chopsticks. Chinese
landlords are reasonable in their charges
which to some degree offsets the unpleas-
antness of living in their inns.
——— The term * Black Maria,’’ given to
the conveyance which takes prisoners to
jail, is said to have its orign in the story
that -in colonial days Maria Lee, a
gigantic negress, kept a sailors’ board-
ing house in Boston. At one time she
took three drunken sailors to the lockup
herself. The authorities came to rely
on her aid in arresting sailors , hence
the synonym.-. Boston Globe.
He treasured dear the single leaf
She was 80 kind to send,
And vowed he would not part with it
Until his days should end.
But when he looked at it his heart
For horror almost stopped —
That leaf was but a symbol mute,
Significant of “dropped.”
A Plymouth Rock.
Cross to Be Erected on the Pacific Coast in Mem-
ory of Rev. F. Fletcher—He Was With Sir |
Up There on June 24, 1579—A Gift of George
W. Childs.
«The Plymouth rock of the Pacific”
is at last to be marked with a memorial
worthy of its imporiance. Tae spot
where divine services were first held on
the western shores may well be deemed
of sufficient note to be distinguished by
a cross, idicative of the service to which
it was dedicated more than three centu-
ries ago. It was there that Rev. Francis
Fletcher, a priest of the Church of Eng-
land and Chaplain to Sir Francis Drake,
first knelt in thanksgiving and praise
for the protection of Providence that
had delivered that Itttle band of adven-
turous mariners from the dangers of the
sea, and that bad brought them safely
to so fair a haven.
The crossis to be erected at the ex-
pense of George W. Childs, of Phila-
delphia, and will cost seversl thausand
dollars.
Most interesting are the inscriptions
that are to embellish it. The consecra-
tion has been flxed for the 25th of Octo-
ber, and that date will be carved on the
stone above the arms of the cross. The
legend on the front or face of the cross
is as follows :
i Consecrated October 25, 1893, by the :
{ Church Missionary Council, as a me- :
: morial of the service held on the shore :
: of Drake’s Bay about St. John Bap- :
i tist’s Day, June 24, A. D., 1579, by :
: Francis Fletcher, Priest of the Chureh :
: of England, Chaplain of Sir Francis :
: Drake; Chronicler of the Service. :
The design followed is that of the
ancient Celtic cross, and is modeled
particularly on the lines of the venera-
ble cross of Monasterboice, Ireland.
The stem is to be richly carved after
the manner of memorial edifices among
the early Celtic Christians. The sub-
base will be seven feet high and appro-
priately chased in runic designs, each
facade presenting a cross in counter part
of the main shait.
The principal device, above the arms
on the face of the cross, will be a repre-
sentation of a book of common prayer,
on the opposite side will be engraved
L the seal of the Episcopal diocese of
California.
Following the Celtic form the arms of
the cross will be connected with a circle.
The circle typifies the world and signi-
fies that the cross is to spread its
influence to the ends of the earth.
The spot chosen as a site for the cross
is about three-quarters of a mile from
the lighthouse at the southern extrem-
ity of Point Reyes peninsula.
Salton Sea Will Reappear.
Water Now Flowing into the Colorado Desert in
Two Streams.
The famous Salton Sea is likely to re-
appear at a very early date. Whether
it will make a permanent stay of it this
time or not 1s, of course, a mystery, but
that it is coming back is the opinion of
the desert men. , Two years ago the
transformation of the Salton sink on the
Colorado desert into a vast but shallow
sea startled the world, and for a time it
appeared as if the great basin which
centuries ago had been a continuation
of the Gulf of California was to return
to its original condition. But in some
way the break in the bank of the Colo-
rado River, whence the water came, was
closed, the supply ceased and the rays of
the sun soon knocked out the same.
E. W. Lang is one of the most exper-
ienced desert men in the country, and
he has a large bunch of cattle now in
the vicinity of Indian Wells. ‘Yes, the
water will come into Salton basin again
this year. Whether it will be as large as
last time or larger I cannot tell, but the
flow from the Colorado River has been
going into the desert for some time past,
and may continue. There was a very
large fall ot snow last winter in the moun-
tains of Montana, Idaho, and Utah, and
the melting of this caused the present
break into thedesert. The overflow of
two years ago was the first in twenty
years, but everything indicates that a
few hundred years before, the basin was
literally a sea, as the beaches are still
plain about thejfoothills, and the rocks
show water wearing.
“When the overflow of two years ago
occured the water followed the identical
channels that had become almost oblit-
erated from age. The water is now
running into the desert in two branches.
One is the Carter River, and leaves
the Colorado about fifteen miles below
Yuma. The other channel is New Riv-
er, and is forty-five miles further down
the river, Salton is about 200 feet below
the level of the debouchments of these
rivers. The water has been flowing in-
to both of the breaks I have named for
several weeks past.
Carter Rivers had advanced about thir-
ty five miles when I left, and I think
the water will be into Salton in a few
weeks more. A number of large la-
goons have already been filled between
the sink and Colorado. One of these is
fully ten miles square. It will not take
long before these depressions between
the river and the big basin are filled.
and then the water will slide over into
Salton.”
How to Test a Watermelon.
I draw my thumb nail over the mel-
on, scraping off the thin green skin.
If the edges of the skin on each side of
the scar are left ragged or granulated,
and the rind under the scar is smooth,
firm and white, and has something of
a glassy appearance, the melon is ripe.
But if the edges of the scar are smooth
and even, and the thumb nail has dug
into the rind in places, and the skin
does not came off clean, then the mel-
on is green. You can easily learn on
two melons, one ripe, and the other
never saw you look so pale. Would | Franeis Drake— The first Prayer Was offered |
For and About Women.
Hannah Allen, who has been a mem-
ber of Sorosis from the beginning, says
that when she dies she wants ice cream
served at her funeral. She wants peo-
ple to remember her with pleasure.
Cream is no longer poured from the
pitcher. Instead there is the cream la-
dle of silver, with richly chased handle.
Stock collars, if made of satin without
lining, are cooi and comfortable to wear
and just now are very fashionable, The
satin is cut bias five or six inches wide
and as long as is required to go around
the neck, with four inches added to form
two small frills of the material doubled
at theends. The edges are bound with
thin silk binding ribbon, and two small
frills are formed by two of shirring are
held by narrow ribbons underneath. The
collar is fastened in the back.
Nothing can go on a plaid in the way
of trimming but velvet or black braid
and the less of that the better, and noth-
ing on the skirt. The largest plaid is to
be make up on the bias.
Choose any green and you are still in
the fashion, even as you are with any
shade of violet, beginning with the pale
glycine and going on to the deep color
called “Pope's” purple. You go
through the pinks and you may take in
dark red and even scarlet, both of which
are fashionably worn.
‘White stockings fcr regular wear are
an abomination. When they used to be
worn it was because the process of dye-
ing was as yet unperfected, and they
were the only thing to wear. Desides,
high shoes or very low slippers were
then the rule. With a high shoe the
stocking was not supposed toshow, and
when it did the effect was an unpleasant
one. 1t would be the same now. As
to a white stocking with the now ruling
Oxford, or what iscommonly called
“low shoe,” it would be ugly in the ex-
treme. What ankle could look trim
under such circumstances ? The only
use for a white stocking is with a white
costume and a white low shoe.
It would seem that the era of plain
skirts is gradually drawing to a close,
and before long that a return to tunics
and draped over skirts will be affected.
It is only a threatened revival, however
and most of the models still retain the
familiar and simple form, and are only
plainly trimmed about the hem. A
pretty little costume I was shown to-
day, is of moss green lady’s cloth. Its
sole ornament consists of two narrow
panels from waist to hem, of cloth, cut
in fret work design, and embroidered
with fine black silk, tiny jet beads and
small bronze-green spangles. This em-
broidery is laid over pale green satin
which gleams out prettily from the dark
openwork. The corsage has a long bas-
qued coat, lined, and turned back with
black moire silk, over a half waist coat
of the same style of embroidery as that,
on the skirt, above which the light tone
of green satin forms a small shirred
chemisette nearly hidden beneath a col-
lar and jabot bow of fine guipure. A
tiny round hat, trimmed with green vel-
vet and a bunch of black feathers pow-
ered with metalic dust, forms a chic fin-
ish to a charming little walking toilette.
A spoonful of chloride of lime ina
quart of water will remove mildew from
linen. Strain the solution after it has
stood long enough to thoroughly dis-
solve and dip the cloth into it. Repeat
if a first application is not sufficient, but
wash the mixture well out of your goods
when your object is accomplished.
Lemon will do for the yellow
white sailor what shoe polish does for
the worn black one. Remove the rib-
bon band and with a slice of lemon
clean the straw thoroughly.
Chinese lantern sleeves are the latest
fashionable variation.
Woolen night-dresses of suftwool are
growing in favor with those who are
sensative to the chill of autumn and
winter weather.
Soft, rich tartans of all wool, finished
with a corded silk blouse-waist, com-
pleted by bretelles, sleeve-puffs, and col-
lar of velvet, are among the pretty
dresses designed for misses’ best wear
this fall.
A pretty visiting dress of gray cloth
may be handsomely trimmed with gray
and black curled ostrich feathers. The
most effective outer garment to wear
with it is a hlack velvet cloak trimmed
in the same manner, with the addition
Pe A aa! of a little jet about the shoulders.
Belts in the waists of dresses are no
longer fastened with hooks and eyes ;
one end is ‘‘stayed’’ and the other has a
nickel-plated buckle, such as tailors use
on the back strap of vests. These buck-
les are a great improvement, as they
allow the belt to be tightened or loosen-
ed as comfort may require.
A picturesque autumn costume re-
cently seen was of rough red serge-a
red that fitted in well with the sumach
and the cardinal flower and the first
bright leaves. It had a broad black
braid to hem the plain skirt, and a non-
descript bodice with revers and double
capes with black braid edgings. The
hat which went with the costume was a
rough black straw, with masses of cardi-
nal flowers and one goldenrod spray,
knotted with black ribbons against the
crown.
Epaulettes appear to be quite as much
a feature of fashion as ever. Some, like
the Medici collar, are wired to keep
them in position. The rolled or tubu-
lar form of epaulette as worn in the
reign of Charles IX. of France is one of
the new styles. It is less aggressive in
appearance than the flat, very flaring
groom matiniptheudierencesatisr i iney | sort, and much more becoming to broad
have been cut open.—Southern Farmer. | shouldered women especially. The ox-
tremes to which some of the jet And vel-
vet epaulettes are carried on some of
the new toilets and costumes are hid-
A True Kentuckian. '
Washington Star. |
| “Have you heard about it ? said the!
Philadelphia mane : / | A comparatively unknown wife of a
oy I can’t say ; not knowing what it | prominent writer is Mrs, Charles Dud-
is’, replied the major. Jey Warner. It is a matter of regret to
“An alleged shortage in the mint.” ' her friends that more people have not
“Yon don’t say 80 ! It isn’t possible | the plensure of knowing her, for she is a
But we can at least be thankful that woman of strong character, an ideal
the julep season is about over.” hostess and a very fine musician.
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