Bomar tc
Bellefonte, Pa., March 2, 1894.
AT THE TURN OF THE ROAD.
Where the rough road turns, and the valley
swee!
Smiles bright with its balm and bloom,
We'll Pras the thorns that have pierced the
ee
And the nights with their grief and gloom ;
And the sky will smile, and the stars will
am,
And we'll lay us down in the light to dream.
We shall lay us down in the bloom and light
With a prayer and a tear for rest,
As tired children who creep at night
To the love of a mother’s breast ;
And for all the grief of the stormy past,
Restshall be sweeter at last—at last!
Sweeter because of the weary way
And the lonesome night and long,
While the darkness drifts to the perfect day
With its splendor light and song—
The light that shall bless us and kiss and
Jove us,
And sprinkle the roses of heaven anove us!
—F. L. Stanton in Atlante Constitution.
A BOTTLE OF ERASIVE FLUID.
A Consuming Desire to get Money and What
Came of it— Temptation and Fall.
“As I look back upon my minister-
ial career,” said a white- haired clergy-
man at a social gathering recently,
“pnumberless romantic, pathetic, tragic
incidents in the lives of those committ-
ed to my care come crowding up be-
fore me—incidents from which thrill-
ing romaaces might be woven that
would furnish endless themes to the
sensational writer. Perhaps as a pio-
neer clergyman to the far West my
pastoral. experience bas been richer in
dramatic material than that of most
members of the cloth, for those who
penetrated that region in the early an-
nals of it were possessed of bold, ad-
venturous natures or belonged to that
class ‘having a history,’ who lack the
courage to face those acquianted with
it, or seek in a change of surroundings
a refuge from haunting memories.
“] remember as if it were but yester-
day the first time that Horace Weth-
erel appeared among us. I did not see
him enter the church, but suddenly in
the midst of my sersnon I felt the con-
sciousness of a human presence before
me—a single, individual presence as
distinct from the masses I addressed
—s0 distinct, indeed, as to exclude the
consciousness of any other presence in
the building. Involuntarily my eye
sought the man who had thus strange-
ly affected me, and with unhesitating
intuition I singled him out. Nature,
indeed, had made my task an easy one,
for his personality was very striking.
He was not an old man, not more than
35 at the utmost. but the closely-cut
hair about his well formed head was
as white as that of a man of 80. His
outline was bold and distinct, the lips
well chiseled and firmly compressed,
and there was in his features that semi-
translucency which one sometimes
sees in finely-carved statutes.
“But it was the eyes of the man
that most impressed me, that riveted
my own glance as by some strange
fascination. I never before en
countered a gaze 0 penetrating, so in-
tense, so full of power. From that
day forth, struggle as I would, I found
myself preparing my sermons for this
man ; found myself, when I entered
the pulpit, preaching to him, as though
he were my only auditor, In his pres-
ence, by some subtile influence, I was
at my best; when his seat was vacant
my words, though the same, seemed to
lose all force and fervor, seemed to fall
to the earth as does an arrow that
comes short of its aim.
“I sought him out and found him en-
gaged in some employment connected
with the mines, toiling early and late,
though why I could not divine, for one
could never imagine him caring for
money for its own sake, and he seemed
to have no family ties. When I asked
him to visit me at my rooms I observed
a sort of embarrassed hesitation in his
manner.
“*Your rooms,” he repeated, nerv-
ously, ‘You are not married ?’
# ‘No’ I answered.
“Then, after a moment's pause, dur-
ing which there were evidences in the
sensitive face of an eternal struggle, he
said quietly, ‘I will come.’
“That this man had had some
strange experience, some deep heart-
sorrow, there was in my mind not a
doubt; but he did not offér me his con-
fidence, and I never soughtit. I no-
ticed that he wore upon the little fin-
ger of his left hand a plain gold ring,
like a woman's wedding ring. I ob:
served that he had ‘a nervous habit of
turning it around and around with his
finger ; but that he never removed it.
This, with his question in the early
part of our acquaintance as to whether
I was married, and the subsequent agi-
tation which he betrayed, was the only
basis I possessed upon which to found
conjectures, ;
“It was one evening in the autumn
when my friend came to see me that
I saw from his face that something
unusual had befallen him.
“*[ have been a coward, Mr. Gresh-
am,’ he burst forth, throwing himself
into the chair which I bad placed for
him opposite my own, ‘a base, weak
coward. I have fled from my past and
it has pursued me. Pursued me,’ he
repeated, his voice sinking to a lower
key, and trembling with some strong,
half-suppressed emotion, ‘like a Neme-
|
|
{
“+I told you a moment ago that I
was a coward. Prepare yourself to be
still further shocked.
“ +] am also a thief. Yes,’ he said,
pausing to note the eftect of his words
upon me, ‘let us call things by their
right names—a common thief, al-
| though the term that tbe law applies
sis. I have wanted a thousand times |
to reveal to you my past history ; have
longed with “an inexpressible longing
for the relief which'comes from confes
sion, but the same wretched pusilla-
nimity has restrained me. Now it can
no longer be concealed. It will be
known, it will be discussed,” he said, !
shuddering as ove shudders, when a
rough touch is laid upon a wound, ‘by |
every man, woman and child in the
a knot of miners a man thoroughly ac-
quainted with my miserable past.
exchanged no greetings, but I couid
not be mistaken. I saw the look of
recognition in his face.
to my crime is that of forgery—and a
murderer, The murderer — though
God knows that I never designed to be
—of the woman I had pledged myself
to love and cherish; the woman who
had committed her happiness to my
keeping. Oh! he said, covering his
face with his hands and moaning like
|'a creature in pain, ‘why was Iso weak ?
( Why permit myself to fall into the
snare laid for me by an emissary of the
devil himself? Bat,’ lifting his grief-
stricken face to mine, ‘let me finish my
story ; fet me have done with it.’
“He was silent for a few moments,
the workings of his face alone betray-
ing the agitation which he felt; then
mastering his emotion by a strong ef-
fort he continued more quietly :
¢ ‘I had scarcely reached man’s es-
tate when my marriage with a young
girl to whom I had been deeply at-
tached since my boyhood was hast-
ened by the sudden death of her father,
leaving her—for he was a foreigner—
without relatives, without near friends
and absolutely penniless. I, myself,
was an orphan, and with the small
patrimony bequeathed to me was just
beginning life, struggling as a stock
broker to gain a foothold in one of our
large Eastern cities when this conuec-
tion was consummated. I had enter-
prise sufficient for the accomplishment
of any undertaking, but the strength
to sit still when inaction was ¢he part
of wisdom, the patient endurance of de-
lay, which is one of the prime factors
of success, had been absolutely denied
me. 1 was continually restricted by
the want of capital—tied hadd and
foot, 80 to speak—and was exaspera-
ted by the knowledge that many bril-
liant opportunities for advancement
were slipping from me because of the
lack of the few thousands which would
have enabled me to improve them,
* In addition to these outside har-
assments a cloud appeared in the hori-
zon of my little home-world, threaten-
ing to overshadow it and darken all
my future life. My wife’s health be-
gan to decline. Each evening when I
noted the increasing languor of her
step, the growing pallor of her cheek, I
longed with an unspeakable longing for
the means with which to place her
amid different surroundings, to put her
beyond the reach of carking cares, un-
til the acquisition of that means—
though heaven knows that I never
cared for money for money’s sake—be-
came the goal of my ambition. Be-
side the “almighty dollar,” limitless as
it appeared to my distorted vision, in
its power of achievements, all other ob-
jects became dwarfed. To obtain it “I
rose early and sat late and ate the
bread of carefulness.”
“(It was on a certain morning when
my desire for gain had reached its
most feverish height that a man en-
tered my office and presented to me for
ingpection a bottle of what he called
erasive fluid.
“It will remove all discolorations,’
he said, beginning to check off its mer-
its with the mechanical fluency of
his class, ‘and is particularly efficacious
in eradicating ink stains. That entry,
for example,’ he continued, ‘which you
have just made in your ledger can be
completely obliterated by a single ap-
plication of the fluid, and it is equally
effectual 1n removing writing of long
standing.”
“ ‘But of what use would such a
preparation be to me?” I asked some-
what peevishly for I was in the state
to be impatient of all interruption.
“The use to you,” my visitor re-
plied, with strong emphasis upon the
pronoun, ‘is obvious. Suppose, by
way of illustration, that entry which
you have just made to be a false one.
In other words, suppose you make a
mistake ; you have only to apply the
fluid and the page of your ledger will
bear no trace of it, will be as pure and
unsullied as if your pen had never
passed over it.”
“Bat I don’t make such mistakes,’ I
said, doggedly, turning to my desk
with an air of dismissal more decided
than polite, ‘I don’t "keep my books
that way-"
“fAh!" replied the imperturbable
vendor. ‘Well,’ as he buttoned up his
coat, preparatory to his departure,’ the
most careful of us sometimes make er-
rors, and, as 1 will be again in this
neighborhood, I will leave a bottle of
the fluid with you and let yon think
it over,” and with a bow and a smile,
he was gone.
* ‘That was Saturday, and the next
day the thought of the fluid pursued me
with a persistence of which I could not
rid myself. Would it really do what its
agent said it would? If so, to what
multiform uses might it not be applied ?
Then followed suggestions as to the na-
ture of the varied purposes which it
might serve, suggestions which came in
ever-increasing numbers as the day ad.
vanced, which crowded about me as IL
lay iu feverish wakefulness upon my
bed like a swarm of worrying insects
which I could not drive away. The
first thing that I did when I opened
my desk next morning was to
remove the cork from the bottle.
which still lay where its owner had
left it, and test its power. I tried it
first upon a line of writing fresh from
my pen, and next on that upon which
the ink had thoroughly dried. In both
cases the dark tracery disappeared
from view as if by magic, and the writ- |
ten page before me was transformed in- |
to one as white and unstained as
though it had just
manufacturer's hand. I think it was
; ‘on Tuesday that the agent returned
camp, for I saw to-day in the midst of |
to the fluid.
We
to inquire as to my decision in regard
said, trying to assume an air of indil-
ference, though something seemed to
clutch at my throat as I spoke and
choke back the words. “Yes?' he
said, with an interrogatory accent,
pocketing the price of the mixture and
turning to go. Then, pausing with his
hand upon the knob and looking back
at me, be said : “I thought you would
decide to take a bottle.”
“That look, can I ever forget it!
Can I ever ;emember it without a shud-
der of horror. It was the loot of
triumph which a fiend might cast on
one but just ensnared in the devil's
net.
“(It is useless to describe the con-
flicts which ensued, the scene of which
concealed from mortal eye, lay deep
within my inner consciousness ; useless
to trace the gradations in thought and
feeling by which I was led to the com-
mission of deeds which I shudder to
remember ; deeds from the very thought
of which I would have recoiled in hor,
ror a month before their perpetration.
By means of the erasive fluid I effaced
the figures upon the securities which
passed through my hands, changing
their value from a lower to a higher
denomination; but the speculations
which the increase of capital enabled
me to launch into, and by means of
which I had hoped to make good the
amounts'with which I bad fraudulent.
ly possessed myself did not result as I
had so fondly hoped. Failure followed
failure in rapid succession. Every-
thing that I touched turned to dross,
and ruin and exposure stared me in the
face.
“In my despair I confided my sit
uation to my wife, and, counseled by
her, resolved to give myself up into the
hands of the law. Half maddened
with remorse and grief the calm forti-
tude with which she heard my confes:
sion amazed me: I believe now that
that fortitude was born of despair. Be-
fore taking leave of her I carried her
back to the little village where her
girlhood had been passed and confided
her to the care of acquaintances, she
engaging, as a compensation for this
care, to perform for them certain home-
ly, household duties. To the last her
courage never forsook her, and the
memory ot her calmly smiling face as
she stood looking after mein the door-
way went with me through all the
dreary years of my imprisonment—re-
mains with me still.
“ ¢[ believe in you, Horace,’ she said
as again and again I returned for a last
goodbye. ‘I believe that you will yet
retrieve your past,’ and in token of it
she slipped the wedding ring from her
finger and placed it upon my own.
“For five years I looked out upon
the world from the barred windows of
a penitentiary.
“It was on a morning in May when,
bleached and haggard from long con-
finement, I was released : was resurrec-
ted to life, as it were, from my entomb-
ment in a prison grave,
“I scarcely heeded anything in my
eager haste, or noted the flying land-
scape as I looked from the car window.
What I saw standing out upon the
background of these shifting scenes was
the face of the woman I had said good-
bye to five years before. The thought
that filled my mind, excluding every
other thought, was that I should see
her, see her on that very day: hear
her speak to me ; clasp my arms about
her; feel her cheek pressed close to
mine. The hope that had sustained
me throughout the years of our sepa-
ration seemed, now that it was draw-
ing near to its fulfillment, to endow me
with new vigor and give speed to my
steps when, my destination reached, I
set out afoot in the direction of the
home to which I had cousigned her.
The bouse before which I finally halt
ed, with its closed shutters, had a
strangely quiet look.
“ ‘Had the family gone elsewhere to
live?’ I asked myself, and thus ques-
tioning 1 ascended the steps and tried
the knocker, The sound brought a
vegro woman from the rear of the
establishment, who, standing at the
corner of the house shading her eyes
with her hand from the afternoon gun
—for it was afternoon now—stood look-
ing at me.’
“ ‘Do the Grahams no longer occu-
py the house?’ I asked her. ‘Have
they moved away ?'
“ ‘Oh, no,’ she said ‘they will be
back 1n a little while. They have on-
ly gone to the village to attend the
tuneral ot a Mrs. Wetherel, who had
been in the employment of the family
and who died here a few days ago.”
“ ‘How much, ah, how much, as I
have sincg reflected, do human beings
bear in silence! The words that this
woman had spoken, little dreaming of
their import to me, had given the
death blow to every hope that I had
cherished of earthly happiness; vet I
said not a word, uttered not one ery of
anguish. But the man who entered
that enclosure was a young man with
an erect carriage, a buoyant step; he
who now passed from it was old and
teeble, and tottered as he walked.
How in my stunuoed, dazed condition I
found my way to the village church,
standing like a sentinel among the
graves of those who had once wor-
shipped within its walls will ever
continue a mystery to me; but I
reached it at last. As I passed
through its broad gateway--left open
for a purpose which I shuddered to
conjecture—the closing strains of a
funeral hymn were borne upon my
ears, and guided by the sound, I
passed to the rear of the building.
“ ‘What I saw there remains in my
mind like a picture rather than a
memory--a picture which time and
after event have never dimmed. In
the distance the sun, sinking like a
golden ball behind the horizon, cast a
| glorified effulgence about the figure of
come from the |
an aged clergyman, standing opposite
| me upon a slight elevation formed by
| the newly excavated soil, an open book
!in his band, his white garments and
scarcely less snowy locks stirred by the |
“I believe I will take one bottle,” I'
evening breeze.
mourners. Something in my appear-
ance must have told him who I was,
for at my approach he motioned with
bis hand, and those about him fell
back, making a passageway for me.
“Down this way scarce knowing
what I did, I passed with trembling
feet—passed to see that which held all
that was dear to me on earth lowered
to its last resting place.’
“ ‘What followed I will not, cannot
dwell upon. Together we might have
braved the world and lived down my
past. As I was, I fled from it. I fled
from it, but 1t has pursued me—aye,
pursued me like an avenging spirit.
Shall I endeavor to escape from it
again or shall I remain where I am
and coafront it—live it down ?’
“Remain where you are,’ I said, go-
ing towards him and taking his hand
in mine. Then kneeling beside him
and putting my arms about him in the
tenderness ot my passion I reminded
him of the magic fluid which erases
from our lives the dark tracery of ein,
which, in a single 1nstant, obliterates
from the “Book of Remembrance’—
God’s greatledger, every entry recorded
against our names. “Yes,” I said, re-
peating his words for the second time,
“remain where you are; begin life
anew.” And he did. He has lived it
down.—Glilberta S. Whittle.
Russia’s Horde of Jews.
Russia has more than a third of all the
Jews in the world, and she is doing her
best to reduce this number. Official
statistics are not quite reliable on this
subject, but it is assumed by the best-in-
formed that Russia must have close on
to 3,000,000 of the Hebrew race. The
United States and England are shocked
by the measures which the Czar is tak-
ing against the people, and charge him
with reviving religious persecution. The
Czar replies to this by pointing out that
the United States deliberately closed its
doors against emigration from China,
whose subjects were represented in
America to the extent of only about
100,000 souls, mostly upon the Pacific
coast. In this matter, moreover, the
Czar moves in harmony with the over-
whelming majority of his people, high
and low ; and were his people to-mor-
row to proclaim a republic, one of the
fow laws which it would not repeal
would be that which excludes the Jew
from Holy Russia. The Russian knows
his Jew better than we know him, and
is therefore better qualified to legislate
on the subject.
In England, Jews aremet in every
walk of lite—in the army, the diploma-
tic service, the cabinet, the House of
Lords, and amongst the boon compan-
ions of England’s future King. As
with us, they have cast off every distin-
guishing badge of their race, and it is
frequently only by accident that we
learn the nature of their religious creed.
In Russia, however, it is totally differ-
ent. There the Jew is as distinct a type
as is with us the negro or Chinaman.
You can distinguish him as far as you
can see, not merely by the face and
form, go graphically drawn by Mr. Pen-
nell ir his work The Jew at Home, but
in certain peculiarities of dress, to
which he clings as pertina-
civusly as does the Apache to his
‘blanket or the Mexican to his sombrero.
The Jew of Kovno, Warsaw, Kiev, and
where-ever else I have run across him
in Russia, wears a curious curl that
hangs down in front of each ear, some-
times to his chin. His cap of black al-
paca or cloth sits far back on his head,
close tu his ears, with a visor as large as
those once fashionable amongst our
brakemen and conductors. His coat of
black cloth or alpaca is modelled after
that in which Dundreary is usually por-
trayed, reaching down to his ankles, and
assisting to give him the long, lean,
hungry look of the Shylock type. On
his feet are boots worn outside of his
trousers, in one hand an umbrella, in the
other a valise ; for the Jew in Russia is
usually moving from place to place on
business, unless heis so poor as to be
forced into menial occupation.
Russia has limited the territory in
which Jews are allowed to live to a nar-
row strip, beginning in the Baltic pro-
vinces near Riga and ending at the
Black Sea, following, roughiy, the west-
ern frontier of empire, along the borders
of Prussia, Austria, Hungary, and Rou-
mania. These four countries—or rather
three, if we regard Austria and Hun-
gary as one—know more of the Jews by
actual contact than any other people ;
for, according to the lastcensus on the
subject, there were in Austro, Hungary
1,643,908 ; German Empire, 567,884;
Roumania, 400,000.
The same consus gave for Great Bri-
tain and Ireland only 46,000 Jews ;
France, 49,439; Norway, only 34;
Spain, 402. In fact, as compared with
Russia’s neighbors, the number of Jews
in other countries is hardly worth men-
tiong.—From ¢The Russian and his
Jew,” by Poultney Bigelow, in Har-
per’s Magazine for March.
Recognized the Apple.
It Could Grow Upon Only One Tree and He
Knew Where It Was.
A man of about 60 years of age went
into a store on Main street Wednesday
afternoon and stood by the stove warm-
ing himself and listening to the con-
versation of the men present. Hap-
pening to glance at a barrel of apples
by the counter, he took up one and bit
it. He stopped, looked at the apple,
and then stopped reflectively. After
taking another taste of the apple he
broke out:
¢Say, I'd almost be willing to bet a
dollar that I can tell where this apple
grew. There is only one tree on earth
that has the flavor that apple has,
and it grew back ot ithe house where [
first lived when I was married and
set up for myself. Say, now, dida’t
that apple grow in Bowdoinham? I
know fall well it did.” The clerk
told him that a maa from that town
broaght them in, and the stranger
said: “I bave not been down there tor
10 years, yes, 15, but I remember this
bitter-sweet apple tree; and the apples
taste as they did 20 years ago.” — Lew-
iston Journal.
——Fifty companies manufacture el-
Before him, ranged | ectric lamps.
in a semi-circle about what I knew to |
be an open grave, was a little group of !
I —————
-—By using a microphone, you can
hear a fly walk.
| methods.
The First Irish Potatoes,
It Was Sir Walter Raleigh Who First Took
“Praties” to Ireland.
Sir Walter Raleigh, says the Youth's
Companion, was an unprincipled adven-
turer, and failed as an administrator and
colonizer, but he had most commenda-
ble taste for planting and gardening;
and in these branches of effort his in-
fluence remains potent. Three hundred
years have passed since he lived in Ire-
land, in the county of Cork, on the vast
estate which had been bestowed upon
him ; but the yellow wallflowers which
he brought to Ireland from the Azores
still flourish and bloom in the very spot
where he planted them.
Near by, at Youghal, near Cork, on
the shores of the Blackwater estuary,
stands the Affanecherry which he plant-
ed. Some cedars which he brought to
Cork are still growing at a place called
Tivoli. Four yew trees, whose branches
have grown and interlaced into a sort of
summer house, are pointed out as having
sheltered Raleigh when he first smoked
tobacco in his garden at Youghal.
Raleigh tried to make tobacco grow
in Great Britian, but the climate was
not found suitable to it. He succeeded
however, by introducing the habit of
smoking it, in making it grow in plenty
of other places.
More important to the world tha: the
spot where Raleigh sat and smoked his
Indian weed is another spot in his gar-
den at Myrtle Grove, in this same Youg-
bal. This spot is still bounded by the
town wall of the thirteenth century. It
was here that Raleigh first planted a
curious tuber brought from America,
which throve vastly better than his to-
bacco plants did.
This tuber, Raleigh insisted, was good
to eat, though comwon report for a long
time pronounced it poisonous. Some
roots from his vines he gave to other
landowners in Murster. They cultiva-
ted them and spread them abroad from
year to year.
This plant was the Trish potato. Be-
fore many generations it became the sta-
pie food of the Irish people—almost the
only food of a great many of them.
It was the “Irish potato’ which came
back to America and became the ground
work so to speak, of the American farm-
er’s and workingman’s daily breakfast
and dinner. Sir Walter’s curious ex-
periment in acclimatization became an
economic step un the very first conse-
quence ; and the spot at Youghal,
which was its scene, deserves marking
with a monument much more than do
the blood of men which has been shed
in battle.
A Wonderful Pier.
Where the American Line Passengers Will Land
. in New York.
On the Hudson river, atthe foot of
Fulton street New York, is situated the
new pier of the American line, which is
one of the finest in America. It is sit-
uated in the immediate vicinity of the
ferry termini of all the railway lines
which centre in Jersey City and Hobo-
ken. It can also be easily reached by
the elevated roads and the cable cars.
The new pier is 720 feet long , the piers
in use by other lines are about 600 feet
long. The width of the American line
pier is 125 feet ; that of the other piers
70 feet. The pier was specially built
to order by the city, and the annual ren-
tal is $50,000, the lease running for 10
years. On this superb pier the Ameri-
can Line company has erected a huge
SaDersrniry at an expense of $300,-
Some of the features of this great shed
are new. The building is divided into
two stories. From the decks of the
steamships tha passengers will walk off
on an almost horizontal jangway to the
second floor, which resembles a large
railway waiting room. To anyone who
has ever crossed the Atlantic or visited a
pier either before sailing or on comple-
tion of a voyage, the advantage of land-
ing the passengers away from the al-
most inextricable tangle of cabs, wagons
and freight will be apparent.
A commodious passenger elevator at
the shore end of the pier will add great-
ly to the comfort of passengers Special
elevators are arranged for baggage.
Comfortable waiting rooms are provided
as well as telegraph, cable, and tele.
phoné service. The pier is lighted
throughout with arc and incandescent
lamps. This new pier, in which the
comfort of the passenger is carefully
considered, will probably be the fore-
runner of many such piers, and will be
in keeping with the five ocean racers
which are now being built at the
Cramps, shipyard in Philadelphia for
this line.—Scientific American.
Tree-Climbing Fish.
The Indian Perch and Its Remarkable
formance.
Per.
The climbing perch of India is said,
according to good authority, to ramble
about the banks of streams and ‘to
climb trees growing near the tidewater
rivers it inhabits. It goes on these
expeditions to secure food-—-a certain
small shell-fish of which it is very
fond. Its spines, which can be tolded
and unfolded at pleasure, cerve as claws
and, with side fins and taii, it is enabl-
ed to work its way along awkwardly,
and slowly. The animal finds that it
cannot be a landlubber tor any great
length of time, because its gills become
dry. On the first indication of danger
from this or other cause it hastens
back to its native element.
Negro Education in the South, :
TuseGEE, Ala.—Afler the education-
al convention about 150 officers and
teachers of the colored schools of the
south remained for a meeting to com-
pare notes as to their work and
Dr. Hubbard received close
attention as he told of the McHarry
medical college at Nashville, Tenn. It
has sent out 234 doctors. 25 pharma-
| cists and 20 dentists, all of whom have
regular work and are doing ‘well. The
physicians report incomes as high as
$9,00 a year. The average is from $300
to $1,200. The younger schools in the
country and small villages made ex-
cellent reports, The reports from Mt.
Meia, Calhoun, Georgiana and Marlow,
in Baldwin county, were especially in-
teresting because of their location where
the colored people are in such large ma-
jority and for their industrial features.
For and About Women.
Mrs. William L. Wilson, wife of the
well-known Congressman, is very quiet
in her tastes and is a close student of
political economy. .
The smart skirt is of conservative full-
ness and outline, fitting the front and
sides trimly, and flaring in graceful full.
ness just back of the hips. Itis a com-
bination of the circle front and sides
with three godet plaits in the back, To
give the rounded appearance to the
plaits and keep them from crushing and
creasing, they are interlined with a split
sheet of wadding tacked to the lining ;
and they are held securely in place by
being tacked to 13 inch wide ribbons
placed across them on the inside. In
some of the newer models a modification
of the old time skirt extender is used, a
fine steel spring in a casing, which is
tacked to the inner edges of the plaits,
and the ends are connected by ribbons
and tied so as to give contour to the
back.
The basques that are now seen on so
many bodices are in box plaits, and are
a step toward Klizabethan fashions.
They are lined with some stiff materials,
and stand out over the hips like the
large fluted collars stand out round the
neck. These basques are only worn
with evening dresses as yet. Bodices
provided with these hip frills are called
“Marie Stuart’ in France. They are
made either low or high in the neck,
and have enormous sleeves, forming
several puffs from shoulders to wrists,
and have epaulettes round the shoulders
resembling a little bolsters. They are:
often made of a material ditterent from
the skirt.
The return to the double skirt isa
blessing in disguise when the making-
over process is to be considered, but to
cut up a new dress in this fashion is a
sin and a shame that all women are
certain to cry out against. The Incroy-
able cravat has likewise given a hint to.
the girl who has yards of sasa ribbon
tucked away waiting for that time
when sashes will be once more in fash-
ion. A little gathered lace, a few rows
of insertion, the best part of the sash
ribbon employed to the best advantage,
and there you have the latest fancy for
almost nothing.
Mis Sophia B, Raeunlich is the busi-
ness manager of the Engineering and
Mining Journal of New York. She
has just been elected a life fellow of the
British Imperial Institute. There are
only twenty other members and she is
the only woman member in the United
States.
If I were going to advise one who
would buy several wool gowns, 1 should
say let one be of serge, one of cloth and
the other of black satin. Black satin is
not wool but it falls into the eategory,
and it will cover a multitude of wool
duties and extend its usefulness a good
deal farther than wool—even to the
making of an impromtu evening or
travelling dress.—Cloth may be trim-
med with fur, lace, jet, velvet, but nev-
er with moire silk. Never trim any-
thing with moire. It is not a good
trimming material. In small pieces, as
facings, it is hard and cold and fright
fully trying to the complexion.
The shop windows filled with airy or-
gandies and muslins look like a hot
house with the delicate blossoms shelter-
ed from the rough weather outside by
thick panes of clear glass. Unseasona-
ble as 1t seems, to display in January
and February the goods to be worn in
July is the universal costume.
Tiny and large dots appear on these
dainty and not high-priced fabrics, in
every device, and the hair-line weave of
the ground makes the thin material look
all the more sheer and exquisite. There
are white grounds with dots of navy
French blue, heliotrope, lavender and
pink. There are rings and duplex rings
and dotted stripes and clusters of dots
on grounds of white or any of the deli-
cate shades, also many fanciful designs
in forget-me-not colors of blue, lavender
and pink on white grounds, alse floral
designs, with what are called shattle
designs, between the flowers. All these
pattern sell for the reasonable price ot
30 or 35 cents.
Sashes or narrow ribbon are to be
much worn during this summer. A
dress of white organdie, with pale blue
flowerets scattered over it, has a sash of
blue satin ribbon, about two inches
wide, which goes once around the waist
and ties in the back in an old-fashioned
bow, with small loops and long ends.
Mrs. Mattie H. Sniffin, of St. Paul,
hassued a New York life insurance
company for $236,000. She worked for
the company two or three years on com-
mission. This shows how valuable a
womans services sometimes are.
A jaunty conceit isa Eton jacket
formed of black satin ribbon and white
insertion with epaulettes and jabot of
white lace. This, when worn over the
plainest black frock, produces an expen-
sive effect that is easily accomplished.
A separate bodice of Persian-looking
stuff with big black satin sleeves and
turquois blue, or magenta velvet collar
to alternate with the strictly tailor-made
one for street wear, furnishes another
change that is delightful. Gold or sil-
ver trimming can be happily ewployed,
and so long as a woman has a black
frock as the basis of ber wardrobe, she
need never despair of looking well dress-
ed on all occasions.
A Brack AND WHITE SPRING. —
From a winter of black and whites we
have indeed come to a black and white
spring. Since women have discovered
that there is no combination so sharp,
startling, threatrical and effective, they
are restoring it to the favor from which
at one time it tell because of over popu-
larity and promiscuous use. A black
and white striped silk in the ‘spring cut
will be quite modish ; and chic theater
bodices and frail tea gowns display the
game theme in almost endless variety.
Pure black, too, is extremely modish,
even for young girls ints whose merry
hearts entered never yet the thought of
mourning.