1 —~ reo |
Bellefonte, Pa., April I3, 1894,
mam sma sss
BURY THE PAST.
Bury the past with all that is dreary,
Cover the errors of yesterday o'er;
Do not revive it sad heart, thou art weary
Of days that are never to visit us more.
Bury the past ! forget all the sorrow,
Tears of regret and passionate pain ;
Here is he present witn thoughts of to-morrow,
It is enough for the world-weary brain.
Bury it with the hasty words spoken,
The anger, for whch we cannot atone,
The shadows, the crosses, the bond that are
. broken,
Cover them over and leave them alone.
Come with new hopes, faith courage, endur-
ance,
And ao thy work nobly while this day shall
ast ;
@od keepeth the record, we've this blest as-
surance,
His Infinite wisd-m shall deal with the past.
— Maggie Crim, in the Housekeeper.
THE STORY OF THE BONES,
An Army Tragedy.
8Y JOSEPH SMITH.
Where the New Mexican Sierras
look down upon a narrow trail that
winds out a grayish-green plain into
the scarred and torn loot hills that
form the outer barriers of the Tulerosa
range, a spur of the hills pushes for-
ward like an earth-work to dominate
the desolate valley. Crowning this
spur was a tall pine-tree,a grim ana
solitary sentinel standing in the midst
of orambling bowlders. Frem the
shadow of the pine the full sweep of
the gray desolation of the valley filled
the eye, from the base of the mcuntain
below to the point afar off where the
sage-green thirsty earth commingled
with the blue haze that wrapped the
cliffs and mesas in the enchantment. ot
distence. From the vantage and
shelter of pive and bewlder ‘the strug-
gling trail could be seen -ereeping inde-
cisively round the base of ‘the hill into
the tough open pass, to-stophesitating
1y-at the edge of a peol ‘in the shadow
ofthe cliff. i pool was the tem-
ry resting-place of a thin stream of
any 0.4) which dripped trom a
crevice in the cliff, wheret took heart
to-contivue its journey down between
the blistered rocks and thirsty eands,
where it struggled feebly before it sur
rendered and died.
Thie tiny etream was the raison
etre of the feeble trail, the oasis in|
that scorched and blistered desolation
that drew to the spot théfeet of the men |
and beasts that had worn the path ; for
in New Mexice, a8 ind udes, the cup of
eold water has a walue inconceivable
to those who dwell in ‘lauds blessed
with green pastures and murmuriug
brooks.
From the pool, where the tracks of
shy deer and prowling wolt were im:
evidence, a rough path led up the hill:
the base of the .pine, among the
moulding needles, lay .a skuil, white
from the washing ot rains and bleact-
ing of the sum, cracked as if with a
hatchet, and pierced with.e hole made |
by a rifie-ball, brough which the!
slanting sun eent.asbeam ol.gold to light |
ap the ghastly interior. Beside the]
skull lay a pile of boues, white and |
discolored and partially buried iv dead |
needles and cones, “Closer scrutiny re-!
vealed fragments of taded 4lue cioth,
afew taraished ‘braes buttons, and a)
couple of musty iron asrow heads.
Farther apant were the bones of a man’s
thighs and ribs, halt buried in debris,
bearing the evidences of desecration by
wolves amd ceyotes. I'he carpet of
pine droppings euirred with the hoot
revealed the coppershells of rifle car-
tridges black alwostwith.verdigris.
These were the mute records of an
unrecorded tragedy, the relics of some
untombed hero; ithe evidences of a
crime the lonely watcher on the bill
bhad«witnessed, and for evhose «consum- |
mation the keen-aosed buzzards bad
waited, floating in the hot heavens
aboveithe Sierras.
Poor untenemented bones! Bleach:
ing in solitude and neglect, crumbling
slowly to the obliwion of dust, they
were the only mementos .of the brave
whitefzced trooper who died in the de-
sert for duty ; died and had beer for-
gotten.
They.were the menument that the
dead soldier had raised to ‘himself in
mute protest againat ¢he cruelty of si-
lence anid bitterness of negleeat thathad
buried the valor of hie deed and <he
glory ef his death im this byway .ofithe
desert.
In the het July of 1873 half a.dozen
troops af cavalry were in the field, op
erating against Apaches, inthat little
know section of New Mexico that lies
between the,Rio Grande and the Tul-
erosa. While K Troop of the Taveltth
was camped gt a spring ia the.country,
about midway between theQjoiCaliente
and the Talerosa Valley, it became a
military necessity to send a despatch
North to Fort Wingate. Corporal
Henry C. Franklin and Private John
Maguire were seleoted to pentorm this
hazardous duty. They were exper-
ienaed soldiers, seasoned horsemen,
excellent marksmen, fairly damiliar
with the country, and accustomed to
Indians and their methods, They
were directed to push forward te their
destination with all possible speed and
were cautioned to be constantly on the
alert forthe Apaches were prowling in
the Sierras in small bodies, watching
- like hawke for an oppartunity to pounce
on weak and careless scouting par-
ties.
The two soldiers were well armed,
mounted on hardy tireless, Calitornia
horses, and were inspired with that su-
perb self-confidence and fearlessness of
danger that are characteristic of Amer-
ican cavalrymen ; and they rode out of
camp as gayly as kuights ever gallop-
ed to a joust, waving careless farewells
to their envious companions in arms.
All through the hot July day they |
rode over the parched plain, keenly |
alert to the possible dangers of the
country, and towards evening they saw
the lone pine that marked the cool and
welcome pool among the rocks in the
San Blas pass. They rode cautiously
up the narrow trail, and caretully
scanned the approaches tothe spring;
but no living thing was astir, and there
were no telltale marks in the trail to
indicate the presence of evil and ag-
gres=ion in the silent oasis.
Bat they had not seen the hawks of
the hills, whose keen eyes had watch-
ec theirapproach for many a mile, and
who were hiding in the pass below for
the hour to come when they could
pounce upon their unguarded foes. A
dozen Apaches were in the rocks, pa-
tient, tireless, cruel, who reckoned up-
on the savage pleasure of capturing
their prey alive, that they might joy
their pitiless souls in an exquisite in-
geouily of torture.
The soldiers rode boldly to the
spring, into which the whinnying
horses thrust their thirsty mouths
aad hot noses luxuriously.
The soldiers unsaddled and unbridled
the horses, and atter spreading the
moist saddle-blaukets on the rocks to
dry, bey picketed the animals
where the scant grasses grew thick:
eet.
The habit of caution impelled them
to climb the trail to the pine
before cooking their frugal supper. to
assure themselves that plain aud pass
were free [rom danger. As they clam:
bered up the hill the angry sorting of
the horses made them turn and shrink
behind the rocks. Their hearts stood
still for the philistines were upon them.
The Apactes had rushed from the
shelter of the rocks «0 secure the
horses, to cut off any escape of their
prey, and the frightened animals had
ing, they bad broken their lariat and
goue clattering down the trail to the
plain below.
The two soldiers felt cold tremors
run over them, for they knew they had
a fight to the death anead of them,
aud they fally understood they
would be dead or free long betore any
aid could ever reach them in that side
track of the desert.
“Creep up the trail, Maguire,” said
the corporal, cally. “I'll cover you
andfollow you, We must hurry up,
tor they'll climb the hill down below
and try. and head wus off. @ur only
chance is to reach the pine and the
rocks.”
Maguire nodded cooly, and sieply
| said: “Don’t shoot in a hurey cor-
poral. We have more time than am-
munition ;’ aud he went up the 'trail
swiftly, halting behind a bowlder.
Franklin caught a glimpse of the
Iudiavs, but only a glimpse, for their
own .calety was of more impertance
than time. The corporal joined the pri-
ran for the pine, amid the yelling and
tiring ot the Indians, who had gained
whe summit further down. Just a few
graces Irom their shelter Maguire stag
«aw the blood gushing from his breast
aver his
tsruggled into the shelter of the rocks,
ihe wounded man pitched over dead
with a ball through bis head, and
{Franklin felt a hot, searing stroke on
ais check.
Griet and rage surged throngh-Frank-
din's breast, but he kept his head, and
from bebind his rocky breast-work
«drove the Indians to the shelier of the
wedars, a hundred yards away. His
«heek bone ached, and the blood trom
&iis wound dripped on his shirt; but,
though paiutul, he knew his wound
was uot dangerous, aud he kept watch
feupon his vigilant foe, glancing betimes
at his dead comrade stretched limply
tat his side, Darkness came, but his
leteady watch was maintained, the
tetrain being relieved by an occasional
fsbot at his creeping enemies, which
| made them chary of their wary and
«esperate prev. Later the glare down
tie pars told him that the A aches
were cooking, and thdir vigilance re-
axing, They felt certain of their prey
aud could wait, and it was evident only
afew were left to watch the trapped
man. Then the big yellow moon
eame up, flooding the valley and pass
with light, casting big shadows from
tree and bowlder, and illuminating the
space that eeparated the trooper and
the Apaches. Once he saw an Apache
fliing ghostlike among the cedars:to
rea=h his flavk ; but Franklins shot
aad the Indian’s yell discouraged furth-
er etiempis. The rocks below and
baci of Fravkliu’s position were baried
in black shadows, made all the more
dark by the contrasting light, aud the
depezate man determived to leave bis
trap aud endeavor to get round and
back et hig foes into the mountains in
the darkness. To go out on the moon-
lit valiey back towards the cavalry
camp seemed too madly hazardous
even toa man in his desperate dilemma
for he rightly imagined that when they
learned hie escape the Indians would
scour tue plain for their victim. Asa
Drelimivary to his break, he fireda
«couple of shots haphazard at his foes,
and his luck was rewarded by yells
of rage {rom the Apaches. Leav-
ing this impression of vigilance,
Franklin teak a last look at his poor
dead comrade, and shuddering at the
the thought of the morrow’s out-
rage on that body, he dropped
down from the bowlders among the
black ehadows, :and creeping as cau-
tiously as a wolf, worked down and
round the position of the Indians. He
plunged into the woods parallel with
the pass, and worked toilsomely along
until he stood on the clits above the
western end of the pass, looking to-
wards the Tulerosa Mountains. Two
precious hours were lost in searching
for a trail to the plain below, but once
on the level he ran over the plain,
vaguely conscious of his direction, in-
tent only upon placing miles between
himself and the Apaches, The gray
dawn found him at the base of the
Sierras, many a long mile from the
San Blas Pass, tired, hungry, thirsty—
and lost. He worked along into the
woods, and lay down in the shadow of
arock and slept. He awoke unre-
freshed, and pushed on, weak and hun-
gry, but stout-hearted
How cruelly hot was the sun, and
betrayed them, for, snorting and kick:
wate above, and then boub started on a
A |.gered, ad a8 he caught him Frankho.
side between the rocksito where the’
tell pine kept its solitary vigil. At! gray shit, As the mea
bow sore and dizzy his wounded cheek
made him! But he trudged along
sturdily over the dusty, blistered, sun-
cracked earth, keeping a sharp eye for
danger, and vainly searching among
the arroyos and sun-baked rocks for
water. Ou and on he walked, up and
down the mountains, across the valleys
and bugging the woods again, in a
country that seemed at once familiar
and strange to him. Night overtook
him weary and hungry, with
a swollen face, a terrible thirst,
and completely worn out. Tightening
hie belt to stay his craving stomach,
be lay down among the bowlders on
the summit of the range to sleep ; but
sleep brought him oblivion without
rest, for thirst and his wound tortured
him through the weary night. The
stars faded out at last, and the burning
tyrant of the day came once more, and
the tired, bloody-faced man started
wearily down the mountain towards
the valley that looked so hazy and
beautiful below.
Surely there must be water down
there cool, blessed water to moisten
his swollen tongue and ease the pain
ot his wounded face, that throbbed like
a pulse. The glaring, staring hot sun
beat down on him with fierce ifitensity
aud his hot eyes saw everything in a
haze. He rested at the toot of the
mountain, leeling in a vague way that
be mast pull himselt together,and then
he staried wearily across the scorched
and tortured plain where the earth
ceemed to swim in the white glitter ot
bitter alkali, whose hot dust burned in.
te his cracked moistureless lips. God!
How that run did blaze and glare!
Was there any water in the world ?
any cool spot under these copper
skies ?
Now Franklin began te speak aloud
in a strangely husky cracked voice as
he staggered along over blistered plain,
and his head began to grow light, and
Lis eyes to see thingsthat were not,
and the buzzards in the air aloft fol
lowed bim with awful instinct as one
doomed to add his contribution to the
ble ching bones of the desert.
Night came at last, and the worn-
out, tortured creature dropped to the
ground, to roll and moan like a wound-
ed beast, and to dream dreams of the
cool springs and brooks back in the
hills ot New Engiand. The prowling
skulkers of the nightcame near and
suiffea at him, only to fly at the
sound of his strange husky moanings,
So the night went, and therelentless
8nn rose up once more to torture man
and earth. In a dim way, like a man
drugged, he seemed to know he must
push on, and he moved out into the
white heat of the plain, staggering
weakly, and waving the gun he still
clung to, until his feet walked me-
‘chanically into a beaten trail that his
eyes did not gee nor his mind grasp.
‘On and on he staggered, growing
weaker and more indecisive, and then
he dropped in the hot plain with a
taint e1ghing grasp, and the world slip-
ped away trom him,
And when the snows had whitened
ithe Sierras and had thrown the mantle
of their white charity over plain and
mesa, canon and arroyo, they fell hke
a benediction upon the pile of whiten-
ing bones tnat lay in the trail in the
Tulerosa Valley, adding another
mystery to the desert, and indicating
that avother man had passed on in
death to oblivion.
Republics are not ungrateful ; they
are busy. Ours is a businesslike repub-
lic, run on business principles: and
they who tollow the drum and fight
the battles of the conntry learn sooner
or later that the glory of an achieve-
ment must not obscure its business
side, its debit and credit account with
the auditor in Washington.
When Corporal Fraoklin and Pri
vate Maguire rode out into the desert
they carried with them certain govern-
ment property borne on the accounts of
Captain Bancroft, to wit: two troop-
horses, two saddles, two curb-
bits, bridles, and reins, two pairs
of leather saddle-bags, two lariats, two
picket pins, two nose-bags, two horse-
blankets, two Sharps carbines, two
Remington revolving pistols, and other
accoutrements. These properties must
be accounted for satisfactorily, or the
sleepless priest of Red Tape in Wash
ington would stop the Captain’s pay
until satistaction was given, and then
the Captain's wife and babies must
suffer.
~The death of his men in action with
Indians, or their desertion, would cover
the loss of property and take it off
Captain Bancroft's accounts. If the
men were killed 1n action, the place
where the fight and death took place
must be duly reported, with such par
ticulars as to interment and so on as
are customary ia the service. Poor
Captain! The bloodless spectre of Red
Tape stands between your sense of
honor and your necessities. You can-
not believe that your two soldiers de-
serted ; you cannot prove that they
fought and died. The desert, like the
sea, never gives up its dead. It is eo
simple and easy to affirm that the men
deserted. The burden of proving to
the contrary lies with them. The
articles of war define clearly the condi-
tions that make a deserter, and these
two men were absent from the colors
beyond the time laid down in the regu-
lations, Clearly they were deserters,
and as the government property were
with them, thieves. Deserters and
thieves!
And so across the muster-rolls of
Company K, of the Twelfth Cavalry,
appeared the final military record of
the men who had perished in the desert
—“Deserted in the field, en route from
Camp Bancroft to Fort Wingate.”
While the whitening bones in the
desert will attest the valor and glory of
two dead and forgotten heroes until
they crumble to dust, the yellow records
in the temple of Red Tape will tell to
some curious searcher of the future
that Henry C. Franklin and John
Maguire were deserters and thieves.
Is it not well that there is One who
sees and knows all ? for so passeth the
glory of the world.— Harper's Weelly.
——Read the WATCHMAN.
DREAMS.
And Wha, ate dreams? Nothing to have or
A stafige transmission from the body of the
To unknown spheres—to lands that we have
The — soul travels that will journey home
to God
For that last sleep in all is but a dream.
We fall asleep, 10 wake, avd find a stream,
Is erost, the river they call lite,
But we vow ouly of as death, the end of
strife,
For such is death, but like a dream in whole,
unly the file i last is trausmitted with the
soul,
Into the dream, more glorious than ere the
midnight nod,
The cream called death is living, and the
journey 1s to Got.
— Gladys Dudley Hamilton.
Great Men's Nicknames.
Titles Bestowed Upon Leaders by Friend and
Foe for Years.
Alexander the Great, even in his
own time, was Macedonia’s Madman ;
Thomas Aquinas was the Dan.b Ox
Pietro Aretino was the Scourge of
Princess ; Aulla delighted in the nick
pame given by his soldiers, the Scourge
of God; Beauregard was the Lie
Napoiteou; Boswell was the Bear
Leader, in allusion to his familiarity
with Johuson ; Lord Brougham was
the Foaming Fudge; Brummell, the
Dandy Killer : Wordsworth, Old Pou:
der and the Great God wan.
Cardinal Wol-ey’s evemies did not
scruple to denomivate him the Bateh-
er’s Dog ; the Duke ot Wellington was
the Lrou Duke, and William Warbur-
ton the Literary Bulldog; Voltaire
had a host ot nicknames, among the
least complimentary being the Literary
Ape; and Swilt was proud of being
called the Euglish Rabelais ; Jawes
IL. is betier known as the Oid, aud
his son Charles is al ways mentioned as
the Young Pretender. Edmund Speocer,
the poet, was called Mother Hubbard,
and Southey’s name was horribly
punned into Mouthy.
Richelieu was called innumerable
names by his enemies, who went 80 tar
as to style him the Pope of the Hugue-
nots, and Alexander Pope was the
Wasp ot Twickenham, Pericles was
called Onion Head by his political
enemies, and Napoleon III. Rantipole.
Moore was the Bard ot Erin, Mirabeau
the Hurricane and Milion the British
Homer Martino Lutner could not
escape the title of Hotheaded Mok,
nor Lous XLV, that of Louis Batioon.
Even in his own eountry Jotin Kuox
was the Religions Machiavelli, and
Ben Johnson was affectionately denom-
inated Rare Oid Ben. Hogarth, the
patoter, was Painter Pay, and Henry
VILL. was Biaff Kwg Hal. Among
bis enemies Gustavus Adolphus was
the Antichrist, among his triends the
L on of the North, Oliver Goldsmith
was the Iuspired Idiot, Guethe, the
Prince of Poets, and George 1V., the
Beau of Princes.
To bis friends Gurrick was Little
Davy, to his foes the Coxcomb, and
Frederick the Great was Der Alte
Fritz, Alaric Cottin, or the Philosopher
ot the Sans Souci, according to the
view taken of his chaiacter. Frauk-
lin was the American Socrates,
Charles Fox the Mau of the People,
Queen Anve, of Eugland was
Brandy Nan, Elizabeth was Good
Queen Bess, the Glory oft Her Sex, or
the Untamed Heiter, according to the
opinion of the speaker, Disraeli was
D zzv. Gladstone is still the Grand
Old Man. The vceabulary of hatred
was exhausted, however, in the case of
Oliver Cromwell. He wae the al
mighty Nose, the Blasphemer, the
Brewer, the Copper Nosed Saint,
Glorious Villian. Great Leviathan, his
Horseship, the Immortal Rebel, the
Impious, the Impositor, King Oliver,
Man of Sin, Old Nol, Old Saal, we
English Town Bull, the Wise Usurper,
and many others, some unfit for repe-
tition. Ifa man’s greatness is to be
judged by the number and variety of
nicknames given him, Oliver
must have been oue of the greatest
men who ever ruled a nation.
A California Canal.
A Great Body of Water to Parallel the Coast
Line. :
An ambitious scheme for a canal in
the interior of California has just been
set afoot, says Electrical Power. It is
to run parallel to the coast, and is to
cost $10,000,000, which has yet to be
raised, and the projector expects to see
steamers running up as far as Brinkers-
ville, 220 miles from the coast, in the
not far distant future.
“The main canal,” he says, “will be
175 miles long, from Suisun Bay to Tu-
lare Lake. It will be extended to Bak-
erstield, and there will be branch canals
running out to various important towns.
It will be large enough to carry vessels
of heavy draught, and will be just what
its name implies—a ship canal. A sys-
tem of immense locks will be necessary
and thereby we will obtain another
great value from the canal. The sur-
plus water in the locks will be distriou-
ted through the loweradjoining country
for irrigation, and the elevation at each
lock will give great facilities for water
power. Motors operated by water
would furnish electric lights for all the
towns on our line. From Suisun Buy
the canal will extend down the San
Joaquin Valley, the river being utiliz-
ed most of the way. Tulare, Buena
Vista and Kern Lakes and the Kern
River will be included in construction.
The water will be obtained from these
lakes and rivers and from the natural
drainage. The drainage is an impor-
tant factor, and we will annually save
whole lakes of water that is now lost.
The water that flows down from one
section of the canal will be saved in the
lower locks. It will be a large volume
of water, for the canal will be at least
50 feet wide in its general portion, and
the locks will be huge reservoirs.”
——The largest standing army is that
of Russia, 800,000 men; the next in
size, that of Germany. 595,000; the
third, that of France, 555,000; the
fourth, Austria, 823,000 ; afier which
comes Italy, with 255,000; England
with 210,000 ; Turkey, 160,000 ; Spain,
with 145,000.
The flariff Bill,
Democrats of the Senate Finance Committee Dis.
cussing the Amendments.
WasniNeToN, April 3.— For several
days we dewocrauc seualors ot he
senate finance commitiee have been
going over the tantt bul 1n order 10]
agree upon the amendments they will
otier to tne ill wuen that stage of Lue
debate 18 reacned. Toey came 10 a
couciusion w-day avd their action was
subsequently Kuowu, when in the seu-
aie this alternoon Mr. Vest gave notice
of a numver of amendments, which, at
Lue proper Lime be sald, he would sug-
wil Lo the senate for action. Beg |
ameudments agreed upou by the wa- |
jurity aud subwitted to the full cow-’
wittee this worniug, and as wuch 1m-
puriance atlacues 10 thew as it they
vad turtied a pare of the bill as re
poited, tuey are, therelore, given In
tuli :
They are mostly reductions from
rates us previously reported. Some of
tie ameudmwievuls are nunportaot, es-
| pecially the glove scuedule, whic is re-
coustructed into a single sentence, put-
ting all gloves a140 pe: centaa valorem,
Quuer amendments are: Losert the
word “uo” 10 paragrapu 20, atier tue
word crude” so as tu make toe sched-
ule read: “G.ycerine, crude, uot
purified, one ceut per pound.”
Cugauge castor otl Irom thirty-five
cents a gallon to 30 per cent ad valorem,
Upon ail compounds or preparations
cuutatulug aleonol there shall ve levied |
the duty atthe rate of $1.80 proot gal-
lon upou the disuiled spirits contatned
therein in addition to the duty provided
Ly law upon the other lugredients con-
taived 10 such compounds or prepara
uons, is stricken out and the toillowing |
provision oi the house bill substituted :
“Ua ail compounds or preparations of
whicn disulied spirits are a part of
cuief value, not specially provided tor
in this act, there snail be levied a duty
uot less than that iwposed upon dis
tilled spirits.”
Tue paragraph placing coal, slack
or culm ou the duuiable nstat 13 ceuts
per to has veen modified Ly tne 1nser-
ton alter the word “culm” or “Such
as whl pass tnrough a balt-incu screen.”
‘To section 61. covering a poruon of tue
10Coue tax provision, has been added
this uew proviso: “Toat ail vou-resi-
deut corporations shall besubject to a
tax of 2 per cent. upon all undistributed
sums sent abroad, which sums, tor the
purposes of this act, shall be held to
ve dividends to foreign stockholders,
or pulicy holders, and the resident man-
ager or agent of such foreign corpora
tion shall withhold said tax ot 2 per
cent row ail such undistributed sams
aud make return 0. these aud pay the
tax thereon.”
Enormous Cave-In.
| Twelve Acres in Scranton Settled Several Feel
on Saturday Night.
ScraNTON, Pa., April 8.—Residents
of Margaret and William streets and
Warner avenue, in the noriwverly por-
tion of this city, were greatly startled
during last night by a rumble aud a
quake of the earth that resembled an
earthquake, and when they arose from
their beds this morning they were start-
led to discover that there were huge
cracks in the surface near their homes,
An investigation revealed the fact that
about twelve acres ot the closely built
up part of the town bad settled several
feet by reason ot an enormous cave-in
of the abandoned workings of the
Leguetts Creck mine.
Many doors were crushed together
80 tightly that it was impossible to
open them, and the magnificent new
No. 25 school building recently erected
at a cost of $40,000 is in imminent
danger of destruction. The house of
the Good Shepherd, erected at a cost
of $60,000, is alro 1n the vicinity of the
cave-in and will be affected if the crush
becomes more serious.
N. R. Bagley, a prominent busi-
ness man of Mexico, wus extolling the
beauties of that tropical country and in
speaking of the even temperatare of the
central parts of Mexico, during the en-
tire year, he said :—“Tne City of
Mexico will soon become the most
noted and popular winter resort on this
Continent. Luxurious flowers and
tropical truits are as plentiful in winter
ag at any cther season of the year, and
at Christmas tide it is 8 common sight
to find roses in full bioom in the gardens
of the residents.”
The Bible.
There ought to be Bibles enough in
the world to reach every one of its in-
habitants who is able to read. The
British and Foreign Bible society is 90
years old and is publishing Bibles at the
rate of 13,000 a day, or about 4,000,000
a year. Between March, 1804, and
March, 1893, this society alone distribu-
ted throughout the world nearly 187,-
000,000 copies of the Bible. The sacred
book is published in almost every writ-
ten language.
——Madam,” said the conductor
politely, “this is the smoking car.”
“Yes, gir,” replied the resolute matron
from beyond Ninety-ninth street, sit-
ting down with a sigh of relief; I
know it. That other car, I reckon, is
the hog car. There's fifteen women
standing up in the aisle.” — Qhicago
Tribune.
-— Dun’s report is a reliable state-
ment of the conditions of business and
what be says can be accepted, whether
it be encouraging or the reverse. Last
Saturday it stated that there is a mark-
ed decrease in failures. This shows
that business is on the mend and the
improvement seems to cover the whole
country.
——1In calenlating ‘‘exact time’’ at
the National Observatory at Washing.
ton the astronomers do not, as is gener-
ally supposed, use the sun as a basis of
their calculations. Such deductions are
made only from the relative position of.
. duction of a man’s ~hirt, with
stripes
the ‘fixed stars.”
For and About Women.
Miss Arabella
Mount Pieasant, In, is said to bave
* been the first woman to practice law in
the Courts of this country,
admitied to the bar in 1869.
Cultivate amiabilny of manner. “An
amiable woman says someone ‘can
never grow old.” In regmid to sulky
people thissame woman remarks, “They
always appear to be 10 years older than
they really are. The face grows wrink-
led from contracung the brows; the
mouth pr jects disagreeably when sulk-
ing.”
She was
The shirt waist of 1894 surely de-
serves 11s name, being an exact repro-
the ex-
ception thatit is b:-lted in at the waist
aud worn with a belt. Even the cuff
bas borrowed the true shirt finish, fort
is set on the sleeves with a staying
piece uppermost, opening on the top ex-
actly hike a shirt cuff ; then there 1s alo
the shield-shaped bosom, the biuh,
straight collar, with points which turn
slightly, sli of which is very mannish,
The only saving grace of this cos-
tume is the large, full sleeves, which ut
least. give it a slight touch of fewinini-
ty. Tbe vtosom tronts are made in
white and delicate shades of blue, pink,
gray and hellotrope and also bair-line
of white, Linen in pale
buft and tan is often used and black and
white striped and dotted material,
chambray, pereale and cheviot.
The *shie'd frill”? waist 1s more truly
feminine, with a turn down collar all
around and with eoffs which luck the
genuine “shirt” eff cet. These are most
becoming to slender figures and are
much easier kept in good condition
than the designs which demand pol-
ished stiffness.
Then thereis still another variety,
with fine tucks at each side and down
the trout, with a roil collar quite dif-
ferent from the others. Generally the
bucks of these waists are the yoke and
fulluess gathered into the belt, which
seems to be most satisfactory. Tucks
and gauged backs are also worn, but the
yoke 1s the most popular.
The butterfly back is the latest thing.
The buck of the skirt is made quite long
and raised in the centre, the fullness
forming wing-like puffs just below the
waist, simulating the outspread wings
of a butterfly, hence the name.
The newest skirts should not be cut
too much on the circular order, but
ull they shculd not be severely plain.
The trimming should be perpendicular
and rot horizontal, both on skirt and
bodice. The fullness of the sleeves
stould be moderate and droop down.
Drisped skirts can be arranged to dis-
guise stoutness more than plain ones.
Skirts draped shghtly on the hips are to
be the prevailing mode for spring.
Lady Henry Somerset, during a re-
cent trip of nine days, addressed over
22,000 people on intemperance and had
presented to her 27 public addresses.
The tancy for making the bodice dif-
ferent trom the skirt runs into reception
and evening dress; and if one has a black
silk to brighten up here is a good model
in a costume that was worn by a guest
at a swell wedding the other day.
The black bodice was replaced by one
ot gr-en, ofa new tint, called ‘ver
dure’ green. and over it a fringe of jet
a “jet rain,” as the French say, fell
from the black collar band and par-
tially veiled it. The sleeves were black,
and had epauvlette ruffles of white guip-
ure. A jet bonnet, trimmed with black
wings completed the dress.
A handsome visiting gown has skirt
and gigot sleeves of reseda-green cloth,
the waist showing rich cream guipure
lace and neautiful black moire antique
gros grain, combined in odd and effec-
tive fashion.
Another half season fashion is ver-
tical skirt trimmings.
A jaunty costume worn on the street
yesterday was of a dark biue cloth,
with a perfectly plain skirt. The wear-
er was tall, so the bodice was in the
form of a cont, cut three-quarter length.
The vest of chamois was in exact imita-
tion of a man’s vest; a white chemisette
and black satin four-in-hand tie finished
the costume. The hat was a large black
one trimmed with satin ribbon and two
black tips.
Dandruff can be removed bv sham-
pooing the scalp with borax and water,
using a piece of borax about as big as a
marble to a quart of water.
The bow knot is the latest thing in
hair dressing , it is set up high on the
top of the head and stuck through with
a tortoise-shell dagger ; the front hair is
parted in somewhat demure fashion and
brought rather low down on the fore-
head. :
The Irish cavalier hat is one of the
smart things of the between season, be-
tore straws are due.” It comes in black
and green, is trimmed with a fat band
bow and buckle, a loose torsade and oc-
casionally with a long ostrich plume.
Worn with one of the new scarfs of
black fish net wound around the neck
like the old-fashioned stock and tied in
a broad bow, this hat goes well with tail-
or made costumes. It is eminently sui-
ted for a riding hat. Severeas it looks
it is generally becoming.
Overskirts and peplum drapings are
a sure go for the summer, and there is
no risk in cutting up material.
Speaking of hats, milliners appear to
have gone wild on thesubject of Eng-
lish walking and cavalier shapes. One
of the latter was seen on a coach the
other morning. It was all black save
for an immense jeweled buckle that
passed through the velvet ribbon trim-
ming justin front. At the side three
upright tips and one drooping plume
were used as decoration. ie
—-— vey
—— Subscribe for the WaTonMaN,
A. Mansfield, of