Bellefonte, Pa., March 16, 1894.
«IF I WERE YOU.”
If I were you and had a friend
Who called a pleasant hour to spend
I'd be polite enough to say, ;
“Ned, you may choose what games we 1
”
lay.
That's what 1'd do
If I were you.
If I were you and went to school,
I'd never break the smallest rule,
And it should be mv teacher's joy
To say she had no better boy,
Ard 'twould be true
If I were you.
If I were you, I'd always tell
The truth, no matter what befell,
For two things only I despise—
Acoward heart and telling lies—
And you would, to.
If I were you.
If I were you, I'd try my best
To do the things I here suggest,
Though since I am no one but me
1 cannot very well, you see,
Know what I'd do
If I were you.
—New York Independent,
Ir EC———————
THE GOLD SERPENT.
The Story of a Strange Adveutare at the Great
Fair.—A Worshiper of Siva.
Thaddeus Gywnan wasa navy man,
retired on a stiff ankle, the result of an
ignominious fall on deck when the La-
fayette ran afoul of a northeast storm.
But it was not so bad as it might have
been, for Gwynn had been twice around
the world when it happened, had spent
two years at Bombay and eighteen
months at Constantinople. Moreover
he had only been out of the service a
year when his father died and left him
independent.
When I last met Thaddeus he had
just come back from the World's Fair.
He said very little about the beautiful
White City, the Plaisance and all that ;
but he told me another sort of a tale,
and it was certainly remarkable.
“] went into the India Building one
day,” he began, puffing a hubble-bub-
ble in his own little den, where I found
him orientalizing. “You remember
how you entered a court where those
smooth old marble gods sat cross-leg-
ged on the floor, serene and manificent
in spite of their degradation. ‘Ah,’ I
said, ‘this is really like Benares.’ Be-
hind the fretted wood-work on the left
turbaned Hindoos in red coats were
serving tea. I sauntered in and order-
ed a pot of Light of Asia. I had seat-
ed myself with my back to the table,
looking up at the marble image of Si-
va, the Destroyer. My heart was stir-
red with a feeling akin to pity for the
old deshrined gods robbed of all
homage in a land whera children
laughed at their noses and derided their
ugliness,
“Tt is no longer Siva, the Destroyer,’
I murmured, using instinctively the
language I had learned at Bombay.
‘It1s Siva, the Destroyed.”
*¢¢Alas, yes !’ said a voice at my el-
bow—the voice of a Hindoo woman
who belonged to that educated class
amuug whom English is spoken as
the native tongue.
“I turned quickly, and saw a figure
in black pouring out tea on the other
side of the table. A hand, thin and
‘brown, grasped the teapot, and a face,
keen and dark, with a curious little
brand between the brows, a caste-mark
I had often seen in India, was turned
towards me. I was about to speak,
when she set down the teapot, and out
from under her loose sleeve there slip-
ped over her wrist one of those brilliant
green snakes which infest the valleys
of the Himalayas. It was a hideously
real thing, with eyes like pigeon-
bloods and curious gliding scales,
which I could have sworn were mov-
ing insensibly round and round that
thin arm.
Good heavens ! Icried involuntarily.
“The woman darted a quick look at
me, and then she laughed.
“It will not hurt you,” she said,
showing her beautiful teeth and laying
her hands with a caressing gesture, ov-
er the hideous thing. ‘lt is only a poor
little bracelet which belong to my—to
the Rajah of Bundapore. He had it
from an old man who came from Thi-
bet. The natives say it is a thousand
years old and it sprang from the dust
of the Great Serpent, the enemy of man
which dwelt in the Himalayas ages
ago. But Siva has drawn its fangs.
See I”
“She drew the serpent from her arm,
and it twisted itself in and out of her
fingers till I could not for the life of me
tell whether it was living or dead.
Never had I seen before such an
achievement of the jeweler’s art.
“I am sorry it annoys you,” she said
slipping the creature around her slen-
der neck and drawing her scarf more
tightly to hide the strange ornament.
“Gurubai,”” she cried ‘do you call
that India tea ? Bring the sahib some
of my own tea.”
“A black man from the dhuns had
brought me the so-called Light of
Asia, but it was far from suiting me.
It gave me some satis'action when I
saw placed upon the table a little Be-
nares tray bearing an elaborate service
for making tea.
“Madam, I said, ‘you are taking a
great deal of trouble.’
“She smiled agreeably and went on
deftly making tea with a grace which
won ty fancy. ‘There is the seed ss
well as the leaf in this tea,” my hostess
said in response to my interested
glances. ‘It is flavored with five
kinds of roses and just a tiny bit of gin-
ger. Will you permit me to offer you
a cup ?"’
“Ah I" Ieaid sipping the beverage
she had just served me, ‘this is deli-
cious.’
“] could not portiay the subtle qual
ities of this tea in adjectives. It re-
minded me of certain memories of
curious wines I had drunk once in
China ; it recalled the bouquets I used
to send Mise Rittenhouse when we
went to the Charity Balls ; it suggested
very vaguely something I had smelt in
the drug room when I was on board
the schoolship years and years ago: it |
was the most seductive tea I bad ever |
druck.
“You like it ?"’ said my companion,
leaning forward and resting her arm
on the table.
tion my eyes were drawn insensibly to
her wrist. The serpent had glided
down from her neck under the loose
sleeve of her dress and was coiled
about her arm again. Suddenly, as
though it had been exercised, my
aversion passed away. I noticed for
the first time that it was really made
of curiously twisted gold wire enameled
brilliantly. At the same time, I ob-
served what uncommonly beautiful
hands this woman had. I wondered
why I had not observed them before—
why I had not remarked as well the
strange Oriental beauty of her face
with its setting of midnight bair and
eyes that shown like the stars of
Orion.
“As I looked at her I saw that her
black gown had in some way become
loosened at the throat. Her slender,
shapely neck arched gracefully from
the hidden curves of her shoulders.
Under the demure black folds of her
robe I had a glimpse of some bit of
gorgeous gold embroidery.
“Would you like to look at it? she
said untwining the serpent from her
arm and holding it out to me. A
momentary feeling of my old repulsion
swept over me, but it passed away. As
I took the bracelet from ber the slip-
pery green thing coiled itselt around
my finger, and at the same instant I
was conscious of a pricking of the
skin. A drop of blood trickled slowly
down my finger.
“Oh ! you have scratched yourself,’
she cried, seizing my hand and wiping
my finger with a delicate perfumed
handkerchief. ‘I should have told you.
There are ivory teeth in the jaws, and
if one isn’t careful they scratch one
terribly.’
“I felt a wave of faintness sweeping
over me. Why I, a navy man, should
succumb like that to tne sight of a
drop of blood I cannot say, butin a
moment the whole scene had faded
away, and I was wrapped in the obliv-
ion we call unconsciousness.
“When consciousness came back to
me.” said my friend Tad, continuing
his exercises with the hubble-bubble,
“I found myselt in a strange place—a
room about the size of an average
to any interior I had ever seen oa this
side of the !Atlantic. The walls were
covered with paveling of an Eastern
material, which looked like bits of old
Decca shawls. A broad divan swept
almost entirely around the room, and
was made luxurious with rugs, skins
and cushions of the most splendid
kind. A fine matting strewn with soft
coverings and furs was spread over the
floor, Rich curtains hung oh swing-
ing poles, divided the room into many
alcoves, so that I could not see very
far in any onedirection. A number of
filigree lamps swung from the ceiling
and shed a flickering light in the room.
An incense buruerof old bronze stood
smouldering near a carved wooden
screen, and asmall stool with feet of
ibex-horn supported an Indian piper.
A tabatier with a teapot and cups was
drawn to one side and all about the
‘room were scattered bits of rare bric-a-
brac, old brass, ebony, teak, ivory, por-
celain—a marvelous profusion of what
we call curios, Oriental arms, gilded
gods, fans brilliant with gold thread
and beetle wings, plames of rare birds
—everything that one might look for in
the palace of an Eastern prince.
“I gazed around in wonder. Back
of a curtain some distance away some
one was playing on one of those Hin-
doo-stringed instruments that resemble
a guitar. It was a sweet, plaintive air
like the warble of that curious bird
called “The Wandering Soul.” I rais-
ed myself to listen. My head swam
and I sank back on the divan. Atthe
same moment I heard the soft swish-
ing of a silken curtain and a step, half-
muffled, on the floor. A woman, tall
and splendid, clad in silk and gold
embroidery, appeared at my side. Her
dark eyes looked down upon me with a
tenderness which filled me with a joy
I could not fathom. Recognition
roused my weakened memory. They
were the eyes of the woman with the
serpent—that radiant creature with
whom I remembered having drunk a
cup of tea—it seemed years and years
ago. :
“Ah !'she said, with an enchanting
smile and a voice that was still more
charming. ‘You are awake at last, 1
thought you would sleep another
day.’
“I looked at this fascinating creature
as she flung herselfinto a large chair
beside me. Never had I seen a face
so beautiful or a form so full of sylph-
like grace. Her round arms were of a
fair, bronzed hue, satin smooth and
slender ; her little feet, in gold em-
broidered slippers, rested on the tiger's
head that ornamented a skin on the
floor. There came back to me the
faint memory of a thin, dark woman,
robed in black, a woman ten years old-
der than this lovely Oriental creature,
a woman with a serpent—ah, there it
was now on her wrist !
“How do feel ? she asked swaying a
peacock fan gently over my heated
head. :
“Very queer,’ I replied, promptly.
‘Tell me, won't you, am I dreaming, or
are you a real woman.
“Poor fellow,’ she said soothingly.
‘It must bother you, awfully. You
have been ill, yousee. I have no
doubt it was the heat and the terrible
glare. How awful the White City be-
comes when the sun is high, It is like
a Bengali jungle in July. If Ihad not
brought you here, I am surel don’t
know what might have happened.
Was it not a lucky thing you met me
in the India Building ?’
“But—what is this place?’ I asked
in bewilderment.
“My house!’ she replied, with a
proud gesture. ‘Do you think I could
endure one of their hideous apartments
here ? This is a little house I took for
As she asked the quee- |
chamber, but bearing no resemblance
the summer. I furnished it myself, I
shall stay here as long as the great All
Powerful One. [ cannot leave him
here alone—in a strange land. I ama
Saiva. I adore the Destroying One.’
Her voice grew solemn as she spoke,
and suddenly, without a word of warn-
ing, she prostrated herself upon the
floor before a picture gorgeously color-
ed, yet in which I could readily trace
the outlines and posture of one of the
marble gods in the India building. I
comprehended this act of reverence in
a Hindoo.
“Tell me!" I cried when, she had
taken her seat beside me again. *Who
are you ?"’
“Karuli,’ 'she answered, ‘Princess of
Bundapore, a prietess of Siva’s Tem-
le.
“You have come here,” I said won-
deringly, ‘out of pure religious feel-
ing.
“I am a pilgrim,” she said, rising.
‘Twelve months ago I rode upon an el-
epbhant. It wasthe Feast of the Tigers
and we were going to the Sacred City.
Alas | my elephant trod upon & serpent
in the grass and killed it.” She shud-
dered and dropped her head.
“What possible harm could there
have been in that? I cried thought-
leesly.
*‘It was the soul of my grandfather,’
she said sadly. ‘I have sought to
make atonement. When Siva’s image
was taken from the ghrine in my fath-
er’s house twas I who came to guard
HH.
“T wonder that your father would
let it go,’ I interposed.
“Her face clouded.”
“My father has become ‘a Chris-
tian,’ she said, with a curious drawing
of the lips. ‘Siva’s image is no longer
sacred in his house. But I—I am still
of the faithful,” she said, raising her
head with a look of sublime exaltation.
‘I have traveled from India to America
to see that no violence befalls the image
of the All-Powerful. You gee him
there. Siva’s image is many hundreds
of yearsold. Let no one dare to please
his fancy and deface that sacred sta-
tue! Hedoes it at his peril I”!
“Herhand was suddenly thrust in-
to her bosom, and I saw the jeweled
hilt of a knife grasped in her fingers.
Her eyes flashed with the light of ven-
geance.
“The other day,’ she said quickly,
‘a boy would have written his name on
Siva’s marble brow. I stopped him.’
“She drew her little dagger with its
curious three-edged blade, and waved
it before her. As I looked at her,
with the passion of religious fever
in her eyes her lips drawn and her lit-
tle fists clenched, I felt a shiver pass
over me. I could easily understand
how an idler in the India Building,
seeking some place to scribble his
empty name, might have been induced
to move on.
“Then Siva accepts your atone-
ment ?’ I said. ‘Your sin is for-
given ?'
“Not yet,’ she answered with a sigh.
‘I have done much, but much remains
to be done. Morning and evening I
offer prayer and sacrifice. You hear
the music now in honor of the Supreme
One. Listen I’ 3
“The plaintive air I had heard
when I first awakened had been taken
up by other instruments of various
kinds, and the room was filled with a
weird harmony, broken now and then
by the clash ot cymbals, followed by a
half-silence, in which I heard the fall-
ing of water somewhere near.
“From that draadful day,’ said Kar-
uli gravely, ‘I wear upon my person
this serpent. Itis only ajbit of gold,
but Siva can give it lite, and should I
forget my vows of atonement it will
arise and sting me.’
“I sank back on the pillows feeling
weak and giddy again.
¢ ‘What more can youdo ?’ I asked
feebly.
“ ‘There is one thing left,’ she
answered in a tone. ‘The blood atone-
ment.’
“Good heavens!" I cried. ‘You
would not destroy yourselt for a—," I
was about to say ‘a meresuperstition,’
but she had walked away aod with a
rapid gesture swept aside a curtain
which revealed to me, ‘through a long
passage, a room lighted with rose-hued
lamps and fragrant with incense.
‘You are favored.’ she said turniag
quickly toward me. ‘In a moment you
will witness the sacred rites ot Sivas
altar. Wear this,’ she said unclasp-
ing the serpent from her arm. ‘I may
not approach his altar with that jewel
on my arm. It is defiled with blood.’
“She clasped the bracelet on my
wrist. Idid not feel anything of my
old aversion for it.
“I thought my head must have been
going that day in the India Building,
as I saw how utterly lifeless the wiry
thing appeared. If I had been a drink-
ing man I should have though it was
a case of Nemesis.
“As I allowed the reptile to remain
coiled around my wrist Karuli smiled,
and then like a vision she seemed to
drift away from me down the passage
to the brilliant room beyond. As she
left me she threw from her her gold
embroideries. Her slippers and jewel-
ed dagger were cast upon the floor, and
I saw her with beautiful naked feet,
her lithe, lovely form clad in the soft-
est of silken gauze starred with gold—
a robe that floated about her like a
cloud and over which her wonderful
hair, loosed from its jeweled pins, fell
like a veil. The music had grown
louder and louder. Four men, clad in
the scanty native costume of the Pun-
jab, entered the passage way from one
side and sat down along the wall cross-
legged upon the floor, continuing to
play their weird instruments. Sudden-
ly there was burst of song, led by
by Karuli, and [ saw a dozen maidens,
clad as she was, advancing with their
delicate gauze skirts full of roses. On
their heads they wore helmets like the
vulture’s head of shining gold. Oune of
them came forward and placed such a
helmet on the head of Karuli.
“She waved her hand and the maid-
ens, singing a song that seemed to
touch my very soul; began to dance
with such wonderful grace as only a
poet could fancy. It may be that
nymphs and naiads trod such measures
when myths were young aud Greece a
coming empire; in faraway ancient
Bzypt, when Isis summoned the flow-
ercrowned daughters of the Nile to
glorify her alters; lithe-limbed maid-
ens, now lying in mummied state, may
have immortalized the poetry of mo-
tion in an epic dance such as this;
Cyrus, the Persian, may bave seen
such dancing, or Nebuchadnezzar in
his court ere Cyrus came, or Nero, the
Roman ; but if any modern has looked
upon its like I know not where it was.
Round and round they whirled and
swayed, singing, while they scattered
roses in the flame of the alter, 00 which
burned a crimson fire, their gauze
draperies floating like the skirts of a
gerpentine dancer, their beautiful limbs
in constant, symmetrical motion. The
gong grew louder and more animated.
The cymbals clashed, the drums rolled,
and Karuli advanced alone. Bear
with me while I confess that from that
moment I loved her—beautital, myste
rious creature! My soul succumbed to
the intoxication of her beauty as she
advanced towards the ritar, her hands
full ot roses, her head thrown back and
lips parted in a ravishing smile.
“Suddenly the other dancers ceased
to sing, and ber voice alone rose in a
plaintive melody as she lifted her arms
in supplication before the altar of Siva.
I could not understand her, but I knew
che besought forgiveness Irom the
Mighty One. Then suddenly she cast
upon the altar a shower of roses, The
crimson flame flickered a moment and
went out. As its last spark died
Karuli fell prostrate upon the floor,
and from the lips of the dancers there
rose a long wail, full of passionate de-
spair. The rose-colored lights grew
dim, the music hushed and the players
rising up stole silently away. The
dancers were motionless, then with
whispering voices they shipped away,
leaving the one prostrate figure before
the dead altar fire. I could not tell
what had happened, but I koew it was
some thing terrible, I knew she was
the victim of some great misfortune,
and I hastened to her.
“iKaruli’ I whispered, ‘I love
you. She suffered me to lift her in
my arms and bear her to couch. She
was weeping bitterly.
“What is it, my beloved?’ I cried.
‘Tell me. How can I help you?’
“No, no, no!’ she wailed. ‘No one
can help me. Siva will not hear me.
Hencetorth I am an outcast!’
“iNever!’ I answered, passionately.
‘Karuli, let me be all in all to you. I
will serve you like a slave. I adore
you!’
“Her head rested on my bosom. I
stooped and kissed her tears away.
My words of love metno response save
the submission of overwhelming grief.
She continued to weed while I poured
the wildest protestations in her ear.
Her heart was beating rapidly and her
breath came quick, but it was with the
fervor of the dance.
“Karuli,) I said tenderly, do not
‘weep, Siva will pardon you. Look up,
my beloved. Speak.to me! Tell me
that some day—perhaps—I may hope.’
“Her sobs slowly subsided. She
looked up at me with her beautiful
eyes and my happiness passed forever
into her keeping. :
“(Some day—perbaps,’’”’ she said
faintly. ‘Not here, my friend, but far
away—in Siva’s temple—some day—
perhaps—’ ;
“Her head dropped and she sank in-
to the overwhelming slumber of ex
haustion.
“I was kneeling at her side, watch-
ing her tear wet face with the hungry
intentness of a new-found love. She
slept protoundly. I did not dare to
stir. What happiness it was for me to
hold her thusin my arms! But bodily
weariness overcame me at last and I
also slept. :
“No dream disturbed me. I slum-
bered sweetly, my heart full of a rap:
turous hope. The name of Karuli
slipped unconsciously from my lips.
“+My beloved,’ I murmured.
“What was it Lheard? An answer-
ing votce in this happy oblivion—a
voice low and stealthy.
Siva will accept no sacrifice but
blood,’ Karuli murmured.
“I opened my eyes. Good heavens!
In the same instant I felt her little
hand slip under my coat, feeling about
in the Jegion of my heart, and above
me caught the glimmer of her jeweled
knife.
“Karuli I’ I cried, springing to my
feet and grasping the band that held
the dageer, ‘would you murder me in
my sleep?
“With a sudden twist of her body
she wrenched her hand away and made
a lunge at me. The knite glided over
my neck. Ibad parried her blow with
a thrust of the arm, which threw her
to the floor. In the same instant I
sprang to the window and leaped blind-
ly out into the night. Why I did not
kill myself I cannot understand. I
had jumped from the second story.
My brain was on fire. I sprang up,
unmindful of the shock of my fall, acd
ran down the street, not knowing where
I went. The wild anguish of my
thoughts, the horror of this last expe
rience maddened me, Iran for squares
turning now one way, now another, till
my wildly-beating heart and the grow-
agony of a pain in my left ankle over:
powered me and I sank down, ex-
hausted.
“The lights in the street danced
wildly up and down. I heard a roar-
ing in my ears. The earth seemed
slipping away, and then I knew no
more.
“When I came to myself,” said my
friend Tad, after some moments of sil-
ence, “I was lying in one of the beds
in the surgical ward of a hospital, with
my left leg in splints and a bandage on
my neck. My body was badly bruised,
but none of my personal effects was
missing.”
My friend Tad paused again.
“Well I” I said impatiently.
“I had no idea where the house was
or what it looked like,” he continued.
“The police could not belp me. In
the India Building, no one remembered |
ever having seen a Hindoo woman
dressed in black, and the last day I.
visited there the marble image of Siva |
had the name of James Woods, of
Iowa, written across its brow.” !
“My dear Tad,” I said laughingly, |
as I stretched my legs and looked at |
my new patent leathers, “I am afraid |
you went at it pretty lively when you
were out in Chicago. Snakes, you
know, are a very suggestive symptom.”
“But they do not usually wmaterial-
ize,” he answered quietly and at the
same time he drew from an inner pock-
et something which he laid down on
top of the cigar box he bad opened for
me. It wasa small, glittering, gold
and green serpent with ruby eyes, a
snake which coiled itself up like a real
live thing.
“Moreover |" he added, unbuttoning
his collar and showing me his neck on
which there was a long, red scar mark-
inga wound but recently healed.
I examined it critically, but said
nothing. The case was one I wanted
to think about. I went away resolved
to make a study of Tad, and write a
monograph, if the results warranted it.
Bat, unfortunately, before I could see
him again I heard that he had sailed
for England and was on his way to
India.
Hon. Benjamin L. Hewit.
Death on Saturday of One of Blair Cousty's
Foremost Citizens.
Hon. Benjamin L. Hewit died at the
Bingham house, Philadelphia, at 3.15
o'clock on Saturday morning. At his
bedside were his wife and his two sons.
On last Tuesday two weeks ago, be
departed for Philadelphia and put him-
self under the treatment of Drs. Pepper
and Mills, two eminent specialists.
They pronounced his disease pachymen-
ingitis of a most serious form and in-
formed Mr. Hewit that his case was al-
most hopeless. The disease made rapid
progress and the sad final announce-
ment was not unexpected.
The remains were brought from Phila-
delphia to Hollidaysburg on Saturday
evening, and buried Monday afternoon.
Benjamin L. Hewit, was born at Peters-
burg, Huntingdon county, June 4, 1833.
He attended the common schoois and
was prepared for college at Tuscarora
academy. He entered Princeton in
1851 and was graduated from that cele-
brated institution of learning in 1854,
with high rank as a scholar, particularly
in literature. Leaving college he took |
a legal course under the late Hon. S. S.
Blair, of Hollidaysburg. and was admit-
ted to the bar in October, 1856. He
was elected district attorney in 1857 and
was honored by a re-election in 1860 and
two years later left an excellent practice
to enlist as a private in company A.
Twenty-third Pennsylvania infantry.
At the expiration of his term of enlist-
ment he served as a private in company
A, Independent battalion, and during
1863, 1864 and part of 1865 was a field
paymaster with the rank of major caval:
ry. He was honorably discharged in
September, 1865, and returned to Holli-
daysburg, where he resumed the prac-
tice of his profession and was thus en-
gaged when, in 1870, he was elected a
member of the house of representatives
ot Pennsylvania. In 1871 and 1872 he
was re-clected, and during his third
term he was chairman ot the commitiee
on ways and means. He was re-elected
in 1878, 1879, 1880 and 1881. In the
last year he was chosen speaker of the
house and presided with such fairness
and impartiality as to win high enconi-
ums from all parties. In 1882 Mr. Hew-
it returned to tke assiduous practice of
his profession. In 1892 he was again
returned to the legislature and made a
creditable record by opposing his party
in the matter of the Andrews-Higby
election. His last important legislative
work was his bill to prevent adultera-
tion of food and liquors which Governor
Pattison was influenced to veto. Mr.
Hewit’s political career was marked by
fearless and efficient support of every
measure calculated for the best interest
of his constituents and the common-
wealth. On account of his tact, readi-
ness and ability as a debater and thor-
ough knowledge, he was always recog-
nized as one of the republican leaders of
the house.
Mr. Hewit was an interesting and en-
tertaining speaker and a convincing
jury pleader and had he chosen to con-
fine himself to the practice of his pro-
fession would have had few equals in
this section of the state. But politics
was more congenial to his taste and oc-
cupied most of his active life. His
ability, integrity and earnestness com-
bined with a pleasing personality and
charming social qualities, attracted to
his side many staunch friends outside of
his political associates. The republican
party of the county was ready to tender
bim a renomination to the legislature at
the convention to be held this month,
and his name was oniy withdrawn by
request of his sons a few days ago, it
then being known that he would be
physically incapable, even if his life was
spared. :
On June 18, 1857, Mr. Hewit married
Miss Lilly Davis, daughter of Judge
Davis, deceased, of Bedford, Pa. She
died in 1873, leaving two sons, Oliver
H. Hewit, of Duluth, Minnesota, and
Harry D. Hewit, a farmer in Dukota.
In 1874 Mr. Hewit was united in mar-
riage with Miss Mary W. Smith,
daughter of the late Joseph Smith, of
Hollidaysburg. Mr. Hewit was all his
life a constant attendant at the Presby-
terian services.
A Good Night Song.
Good-night,
The
deepen, darken,
And hide your face, and blot the last of
dear love! shadows |
light ;
Yet stretch your hands towards me, dear,
and hearken
To this, my heart's good-night.
Good-night, dear love! y weak hands
fain would hold you,
But fate prevails, with all its wrong and
right;
Ido pray God His great love may enfold
u
0
After this last good-night!
Good night, dear love! For all love’s great en-
deavor,
Mie is the dark, and yours, thank {God, the
! right !
Take with you, sweet, the love that lives for-
For and About Wemen.
The daughters of 12 members of Con--
gress and the wives of fully 20 members
draw pay from Uncle Sam as private
secretaries of their husbands or fathers.
Perpendicular stripes are not nearly
so stylish, except in the thin materials,
as the all-round or Bayadere stripes,
which cross the stuffs horizontally. In
flannels, of course, cottons and all ma-
terials for easy-fitling wear, the length
wise stripe 1s the thing.
‘What a fussy lot we are going to be
this spring. Every frock will be smoth--
ered witn lace, bristling with ribbons
and jangling with jet. And yet what a
dainty conglomerate it makes when put
together as 1t should be done. Just
fancy a frock in purple, green and white
stripes. Around the bottom a twelve-
inch bias band af green velvet headed
by a narrow ruching of the same.
Above this again an equally wide band
of cream guipure lace trimmed with
rosettes of green velvet set at intervals
along the top edge.
The bodice of green velvet had a yoke
of guipure run with green velvet rib-
bons ending in rosettes at the bust
Epaulettes of green velvet fell over im-
mense sleeves of purple silk which were
finished by deep lace rufil:s. It sounds
awful doesn’t it? bat it was in reality
exceedingly smart.
Bright red cloaks for tiny . girls are
very much the fashion, and the little
ones look like lady-bugs in their scailet-
winged garments, trimmed with black
braid or black fur.
Fashion still smiles most approvingly
on all the eccentricities employed in
broadening the feminine shoulders with
berthas, bretelles, cape collars, revers,
puffs frills, and all sorts of wide spread-
ing elegances in lace velvet, silk, and
moire. The majority of the fancy
sleeves bave passed from a quaint and
charming style to ultra-distorted out-
lines which are neither pretty, pictures~
que, nor artistic,
Miss Carrie Bell has been nominated
¢ity clerk at Creede, and if elected she
will be the first woman to hold office in
Colorado, which recently admitted
women to full voting privileges.
It takesa man to talk economy--a
woman to practice it.
New coats have large square collars
and wide revers faced with moire or vel-
vet. A novel jacket of velour du nord
offers suggestions for making over any
cloth jucket. It just reaches the waist
and is double breasted, finished with a
large collar of velvet, rolling away in
front, where it is filled in with a silk
scarf. It is lengthened by a basque of
velvet, thus affording an opportunity to
80 away with an old-fashioned jacket
skirt.
When massaging the face, rub lines
under the eyes from the nose to the
temples, This is the rule. In washing
the eyes, wipe them from the temples
to the nose. This is suid to prolong
sight.
The choise trimmings for washable
dresses are embroideries that imitate
guipure lace, or else that are much clos-
er wrought with an edge of lace in deep
points or scallops. White moire or
gros grain ribbons two inches wide are
used for belts, and tied in a large bow
with short edds, also for shoulder-knots.
Black moire ribbons are rather old-look-
ing, but are pretty on the pink, blue or
yellow zepbyr dresses of large girls in
their teens. Very narrow ribbons only
twice the width of baby ribbons are
white in the middle with red or blue
stripes on the edge, and are used for
drawing through embroidered beadings
in rows, and for making rosettes of ma-
ny loops on the belt or collar band.
For girls of 16 or 18 years are horder-
ed or robe gingham gowns—pale blue,
lilac, pink or green--having three
white bands closely twilled woven
around an accordion-pleated skirt, with
three similar bands crossing in yoke
fashion on the high belted waist. Ful-
pess is gathered just under the throat,
and again at the belt in front and back.
The sleeves have a deep cap ruffle of the
bordered gingham. White ribbon bands.
cover the collar and belt. When the
accordion-plaiting is washed out this
skirt will be simply a gathered full skirt
A lovely pink Chambery gown for a
girl of 16 has the whole yoke of white
embroidered insertions, that come on the.
selvage of the Chambery. The front of
the waist is all in one_piece, and hooks
on the leftside. The%leeves have three
ruffles of graduated width at the top, al}
edged with insertion. The straight
skirt four years wide bas three embroid-
ered bands woven in it above a hem,
and is gathered to a belt of embroidery
that has a scalloped ruffle of embroidery
below it. There are also lovely white
nainsook dresses for these young girls,
with rows of insertion as trimming, or
else with five embroidered flounces cov-
ering the entire skirt.
Cold cream is apt to make pimples
and vaseline used on the face will give
one a disfiguring growth of hair.
A unique traveling gown fox an Eas«
ter bride is of green cloth, stitched with
black about the edge of the plain skirt.
The plain bodice has jet nail heads set
on in round yoke and corselet form and
from the shoulders wide black moire rib-
bon comes to the waist line where it
forms two short loops, which are again
| supplemented by two more reaching be-
low the hips: This gives a very bouff-
ant effect and is decidedly novel.
A chic French hat does not count for
much if the face underneath it isn’t
bright and piquant. What could be
more ridiculous than a saucy Tam-o-
‘Shanter toque on a ‘‘weedy’’-looking
spinster of uncertain—-no, not uncertain
certain—age ? Toques are always popu-.
lar, though far from being always be-.
coming. Nothing is quite so terrible to-
see as a fat, red face surmounted by a
little turbanlike toque ; it looks so very
absurd. People with large heads and
ever—
Good-night, good-night, good-night !
— Frank L. Stauton in Atlanta Constitution.
faces should leave the toque for their
more petite sisters.