&%
EE ——————
Pemorralit Walden.
Bellefonte, Pa., April 20, 1894.
|
ACQUITTED.
M. V. Thomas.
Ah! Dost thou think that I could love thee
now ?
When I have learned how frail and false thou
ar
Would’st thou bring thy poor, broken, worn
out vow
To barter for the love of this true heart ?
I could not love thee now, e’en if I would.
Though time was once when I did love the
well.
When I did seek to please thy every mood ;
How much I loved thee then, I dare not tell.
And dost thou think that I would love thee
now ;
Since thou didst toss love, like a toy from
thee;
And wouldst thou, now, try oer the past to
throw
A shadow that would hide it all from me?
I would not love thee now, e’en if I could,
Since thou hast proved unworthy of my love.
Pity. is ail that I would give the, shouidst
Thou, now, but try thy worthiness, to prove.
But stay ! turn not thy down-cast face-away.
If thou wilt linger I will try to prove
To thy sad heart, so full of dark dismay,
That pity bears close kinship unto Love.
A MEAN TRICK.
He had often tried to propose to her,
but she was such a very flippant
young person thathe found it herculean
to reduce her to a sufficently serious
frame of mind. Then, too, he was by
no means certain as to ber feelings to-
ward himself. Some definite assur-
ance either way would, he fell, have
been grateful, although it is safe to af-
firm that had such assurance been un-
favorable to his hopes he would none
the less have been anxious for further
information: :
However, he was denied the satisfac:
tion of even well grounded suspicion.
She had such a baffling-sort of a man-
ner. Never had he been able to sur-
prise her into an admission of any-
thing, however trifling, which might
be taken as an indication that he
aroused within her emotions of any
kind whatever. It was certainly very
difficult to know what to do.
Many times had he almost taken
advantage of a momentary silence on
her part. Times without number had
he nearly clasped her in his arms as
she pirouetted past him, but she was
too quick for him. The ‘boldest effort
-on his part had been made one evening
after be had brought a triend to call
upon her. Minna, Bob and the
friend had all sat in the kitchen and
pulled taffy. Next evening Bob said
sheepiehly.
“Do you know, Minna, arhat Ikey
was tellin me last aight?"
“How could I know without you
told me?” returned Minna, with spirit.
She was washing dishes and she clat-
tered:them in the pan.”
“He was asking me if I was going to
marry you.”
“And shat did yeu tell him?”
“Told him I didn’t know.”
“That was right,” said Minna,
swirling the dishcloth around.
“‘Andke—he said I was -& durned
fool if:I. didn’t.
Minna went off into peals.of laugh-
ser. Then she sobered up.
“Didn't what ?”
“Didn’t marry you.”
“So you would be—it you.got the
chance, was the prompt reply, but I
can’t get the chance,” dejeetly.
+ Whatright had you to:tell'bim you
' eouldn’t. get the chanee?”’
‘iCause. yeu ain't ever give it to
me,”
“No, an’ I never will,” rretarned
Minna, with emphasis.
“Jes whatd thought,” said Bob dis-
mally. -“Gaess I'd better go.”
‘Guess yesbad,” remarked his hos-
tess hospitably. As she spoke she
wiped.out the.dishpan and hungit up
on a nail behind the sink. “$If'i was
you I'd learn afew things before iL eame
courtin.’’
“But youre a big sight .clever'n
me,” answered Bob, meekly.
“That's 80, said Minna dacenically
as Bob passed dejected out .ofithe
kitchen door.
Oa thinking over the interview ion
the way home, Bob thought\that.en
the whole:he bad not made mueh pro-
gress.
A éew .days later hope returned,
bright eyed and smiling, and Bob .de-
termined to.make another attempt to
secure the ‘elusive Minna. Ia the
soft duek ofthe early summer evening|
he went thoughtfully across the field;
toward her father’s costage, now soft;
ened of ite daytime angularities and, to
Bob’s imagination, nestling confiding
ly in the trees.
“House ain't much like Minna,” he
reflectlea sadly. ‘“WishtI could think
on some way ito.eotch her.” j
As he walked, crushing down the
moist grase, be revolved a dozen |
schemes in kis miad, all of which had
sooner or later to de dismissed as im-
practicable in view of the uncertain
mature of the damsel in question. If
the could only be sure of how Minna
would take anything. But be never
could be. She was ae wayward as the
summer breeze,
Saddenly in the widest of his pender-
ing, an idea came to him—a heaven
sent inspiration, so beautiful, so clever,
that the cunning little god himeelf
must have been hiding in a bluebell
along his path. Bob gave an emphat-
ic clap to his leg, and the listening
Cupid might have heard a short
chuckle, {followed by a delighted ex-
clamation,
“Gosh 1 But that'll doit!" as the
woer sped along his path. Minna her-
self met Bob at the door and gave him a
chair outside beneath a fragrant honey-
uckle She satdown near him on the door
step and leaned her head against the
casement. She looked very pretty, her |
black eyes darkening the lids and her |
face pale in the dusky twilight, her
hair curling in moist little ends around
her small face. Bob looked at her, and
his heart failed him. But he remem-
bered a certain Thomas Anderson, !
who report said had - loitered beneath
the honeysuckle for the few and
bought back his oozing courge.
“They wuz talking about you last
night down at the pump,” he remark-
ed, with assumed cheerfulness.
“Talking about me?” said Minna
angrily. “How dared they ?”
“Qh lord I" gasped Bob to himself.
“If she gets mad before I begin!”
“They was sayin—sayin’'——
“Well 2" sharply, “wbat wuz they
sayin ?”
“They wuz saying how as youd
never marry any one—you wuz that
uncertain-like and flightylike,”
“Who said that ?”’ said Minna, turn-
ing wrathful eyes upon him.
“I don’t exactly remember,” faltered
Bob.
“Most likely yourself,” disdainfully.
Bob could not truthfully disown the
remark, as he had made it frequently,
in confidence, to his near companions
in the village. So, after this unexpect-
ed home thrust, he remained uncom-
fortably silent.
Minune pursued her advantage.
“Nice doing them, fur a man !"”" she
went on contemptuously. “Talking
about girls when they can’t talk back
for themselves I”
If the reported conversation had not
been wholly imaginary, Bob would
have been stricken with remorse. As
it was however, although inwardly
trembling, he saw an opening and took
it.
“But I spoke back fer you, Minna, I
did.”
“0h you did, did you I" was the dis-
couraging comment. “Since il wuz
you said the worst, seems to me it wuz
all you could do.”
“They said a lot more'n I did,” Bob
continued, with fictitious courage.
“They said as how I needn’t be hangin
around here, fur ye'd allus scorn me
till the jedgment and not marry meat
all.”
“There wuz some truth in their re-
marks,” remarked Minna snubbing-
ly.
Ye But there's wueser nor that,” he
said with well forced gloominess “I
said as how I'knowed you would mar-
ry me'’'——
“Who made you so wise ?” inter-
rupted Minna sarcastically.
**An a man ‘bet me you wounldn’t, an
-—an—1I bet him you would.”
“Beasts!” ejaculated the much in-
censed, Minna,
“An I bet a fearful lot, Minnpa.
“Gosh |—I'm scared to think of it. TtI
got to give him the money the tarm ull
have to go sure.” i;
Minna looked frightened.
“How much?” she asked faintly.
~‘Wonder how much she’ll stand ?”
Bob asked himself perplexedly. Then
he glanced at her tentatively. -
“I'm most afeared to tell you.
its—gosh' | Mina—it’s $100.
“Qh, my!” ejaculated Minna. *You
never did.”
4A hundred dotiars I’ repeated Bob
chokingly, and overcome by the feel-
ings he had aroused he buried his head
in his hands. ‘From this safe retreat
he continued disjointed remarks brok-
en by emotion. :
“Don’t care for myself (Sigh.) I
don’t wan't to live anyway, but the
farm 'll have to go sure, and poor
mother and father.” (Sob.)
“@h, no, .no,”” said Mina tear-
fully.
“Q'hey’re old now to start over agin
(a protracted sigh,) but I kin work for
‘em, I'll do 1t"—and Bob's shoulders
shook with nobly suppressed emotion
—“it ull come hard to lose the old
place now—(Sob)—aftem them years.”
“@h, don’t, don’t, Bob! 1 can’t
bear it:!” gasped Minca, choking down
It's—
the tears. “I'll—I'll"—
Bob waited a moment. Then he
went.on::
‘Poor sister can’t go to school or
nothing,” rocking himself to and fro in
apparent .deep grief, “an’ there's no
wood got ‘for the winter’’—here he
wept aloud, and seeing this Mina, too,
wept alond.
“Ob, Boh,” che cried, “how could
you be so—sa’’—and she burst again
into tears. :
“Dunno, Minna,” he said in a chok-
ing voiee, ‘‘but there's ain’t no help for
ne “It’s all got'to go—farm and
all.”
“Never!!” said Minna hysterically.
“I will marry you—I willd”
“'Taia’ right to ask you,” Bob said
sadly and bypoeritically. *You don’t
care nothin about me.”
ly and shametacedly, “but that was an
awful lot of money ito bet en me. I
like you for it, Bob, T do!”
“An’ you will marry me 2”
She nodded.
“Thank you, Minna,” Bob said
msournfully. “It’s awfuily good in
you.”
A moment elapsed before be started
| on the real business of courtship—he
had to proceed earefully—and ie that
mowent Bob leoked up at a very jester
of & twinkling etar and silently ex-
ebhanged with it a knowing and prodig-
ious wink, — Chicago Inter Ocean.
Easy Enough.
Cora—I saw Jack Entlow’s arm
around you last night on the piazzs.
How could you dear, when you are en-
gaged to another man ?
Dora—Bat Jack and I are old friends
and this was only 1n memory of old
times.
Cora—But suppose your fiance should
hear of it. What would you tell him ?
Dora—I would tell him that Jack
was only presenting me with a souvenir
spoon.— Brookiyn Life.
Historie Fort Pitt.
Pirrssura, Pa., April 15.—Fort Pitt
has pass into the hands of the Daugh-
ters of the Revolution. It is the most
valuable historic relic in Western
Pennsylvania, and the old block house,
erected by the pioneers who stated this
settlement as a fortification against the
Indians is stiil in a good state of pre-
servation. It stands near the con-
fluence of the two rivers, the Alleg-
Leny and tho Monongahela.
“I didn’t afore,” said Minna tearful
The Commonweal and Its Leaders.
A Comprehensive Account of Coxey's Great Pro-
paganda. Strange Mixture of Spiritualism and
Politics.
Coxey has been upon his march to
Washington for more than three weeks,
He left Massillon with a gang of tramps
hobos, and cranks, less than one hundred
in number, on Easter Sunday, and in
spite of snow storms, bad weather and
insufficient commissariat he has kept his
forces together and even augmented
them. Until the eleventh of April
the mob will continued its march
through this State, relying upon the
farmers for food and lodging. At that
date the Army 6f the Common Weal
assed into Maryland at a point near
li. Pa., and proceeded to Will-
iamsport, Md., by the Chesapeake and
Ohio Canal.
For the past two months “General”
Cozxey and his able and enthusiastic as-
sistant Carl Browne have boasted that
they would lead an army of 100,000 of
the unemployed from Massillon to
‘Washington, and that over in the capi-
tal they would assemble in force und de-
mand that Congress pass a bill author-
izing the issue of Treasury notes in the
sums of $500,000,000, to be expended in
building good roads, and of another bill
giving the right to municipalities to send
a non-interestbearing bond to the Secre-
tary of the Treasury and receive Treas-
ury notes in exchange. :
Whether they will reach Washington
or not, the feline tenacity of life exhibi-
ted by the army through the most dis-
heartening circumstances and the ap-
parently serious offers of assistance in
the form of money, provisions and re-
cruits that have been received by “Gen-
eral” Coxey, make the expedition one of
the most interesting events of modern
times.
WHO COXEY IS.
Three men stand in strong belief as
the leaders and organizers of the mod-
These are Jacob Sechler Coxey, Carl
Browne and Honore J. Jaxon.
Coxey is a business man, owning and
working a stone quarry. and possessing
a fine racing stable headed by Acolyte
for which he paid $40,000. His stable
is valued at $200,000, He has made his
money himself and is a hard-headed,
self-willed man who seems desirous of
making political capital out of his pre-
sent enterprises so that he can head the
Populist ticket in his State at the next
election.
Since his connection with the Army
of the Common Weal, a quaint mixture
of charlatanery, sacrilege and spiritual-
ism has been mixed up with his propa-
ganda. He claims now to be a Theoso-
phist, and on March 22 he announced
that he had discovered traces in his
spirit of the reincarnated soul of Andrew
Jackson, “Old Hickory,” whose mem-
oy is so dear to the Democracy of to-
ay.
Hie also calls himself the “Cerebrum
of Christ,” though the significance of
the term is not quite clear.
The mixing of charlatanry with the
original plan seems to have emanated
from Carl Browne. Clad in buckskin
clothes and a cowboy hat Mr. Browne
brought from the Pefferian plains of
Kansas and California an alleged natur-
al the sophy which he proceeded to put
into the receptive intellect of the ambi-
tious Coxey. Browne does not pretend
to be well read in the literature of the
subject. He modestly sssumes that a
part of the seul of Christ has been rein-
carnated in his being, and that by the
same process another part of that same
soul has beea reincarnated in Mr. Coxey
Incidentally, Mr. Browne claims his
body to be the habitat of the soul of the
ancient philosopher, Calisthenes, a ven-
erable gentleman associated with dumb-
bells, who used to accompany Alexan-
der the Great on his world-conquering
excursions,
“I first organized within me the re-
incarnated parts of Calisthenes in 1877,”
says he. ‘Realization of the incarna-
tion of Christ came to me in the dead of
night while in a cabin in my mountain
home in California in December, 1890.
I was sitting at the bedside of my inva-
lid wife. Her illness was such as to
1 draw forth the innermost affections of
the human heart. . The Calisthenes part
of me was strongly antagonistic to di-
vine ideas, and up to That time I had
been in violent opposition to Christian-
ity, all the Christ part in me being sub-
ject to the control of other parts. Some-
how, while my poor helpmate lay there
thoughts came into my head as theughts
will, and I speculated on the Theosophi-
cal doctrine of departed souls taking up
their abode in living persons, and I
wondered if hers would go into mine.
At the instant there seemed to be a
flash of lightenicg, not vivid but sub-
dued, and she rose up and kissed me. A
peculiar feeling seemed to possess my
being, and I felt the Christ control take
possession of me, and all the infidelity
of Calisthenes was repressed. I believ-
ed from that moment I commenced, as
was my wife's wish, to absorb her soul,
and when the spark of her life went out
on Christmas Day, 1892, all that was
good in her went into me, and there
was a great amount. It gave me
strength to go forth and do work for
humanity, and be that addition I was
able to realize that a part of the reincar-
nated oul of Christ was in me, and I
was competent, when I met Brother
Coxey, to recognize the part of Christ
in him.”
The foregoing will explain why the
figure of Christ is used upon the banner
which heads the procession.
Christ was simply a great reform-
er,” says Mr. Coxey. ‘‘He went about,
like Browne here, doing all the good he
could and as he preached against those
who live upon interest and profit, they
controlled the masses, as they do now,
and so encompassed his death upon the
eross’’
THE THIRD LEADER.
The third member of the outfit is an
Indian, Honore J. Jaxon, who seems to
be more of a sympathizing ally than an
active leader. His picturesque attire
and enthusiastic indorsement of the pro-
gram have procured for him a position
of prominence almost equal to that held
by Coxey and Browne.
Such are the leaders. The main
body of the army is variousiy described.
Some say that they are cranks. This
is vigorously denied by others who say
they are hobos and tramps. Coxey
says they are respectable citizens, but
that is doubtful. The following humor-
ous description of the departure of the
army from Massillon is from a Western |
paper:
THE ORDER OF THE START.
Carl Browne on a white cart horse.
“Windy’’ Oliver, waving his bugle and trying
to sing.
Jesse Coxey, dressed in a blue army coat and
gray army trousers, wearing an army cap
with the initials C. A. upon it. He
rode one of Coxey’s $10,000
blooded horses.
“Cyclone” Kirkland, astrologer to the expedi-
tion, on a bay mule of the vantage of '65.
«The banner of Christ,’ carried by a tramp in
a ragged coat and a plush hat.
Various “banners” carried with easy famil-
iarity with!various bums,
One farm wagon, containing what was alleged
to be a band and General Jacob Sechler
Coxey himself and the “loudest colored man
in the world,”riding in a
buggy d.awn by a bay team.
Mrs. Coxey, her sister. Miss Jones, and Jesse
Coxey Jr., riding in a buggy.
“Weary” Her in a sombrero driving Carl
Browne’s Panorama of Horrors.
Louis Schmids, “The Great Unknown,” clothed
indignity and a yachting cap, mounted
on one of Coxey’s blooded horses.
Seventy tough looking hobos, being the rank
and file of Coxey’s great army of the Common-
weal. Platoon of 43 newspaper corre-
spondents
A following of 2000 grinning people mounted
in buggies and on foot.
As aside show Honore J. Jaxon, of Chicago,
Professional North American Indian.
THE SERIOUS SIDE.
The army has been the butt of al-
most every paragrapher in the United
States, but the serious offers of recruits
and the active preparations of the mili-
tia at Washington for their reception
puts a graver aspect on the affair.
The organization of the army is based
on the formation of groups of five men.
Groups may be federated into commu-
nities of not less than 105 men. These
in turn may be federated into commu-
nities of not less than 215 nor more than
1055 men, and two or more communi-
ties may be banded into cantons. These
several divisions will be officered by a
number of marshal’s who will be desig-
nated by numbers, the first baving
charge and the others acting as his as-
sistant.
To show their seriousness they have
made a request of Governor Pattison
for tents to the number of 200. No at-
tention was paid to the request. In ad-
dition to joining telegrams from var-
ious quarter’s some letters have been
received by from people who mean
business.
A letter from the Woman’s National
Industrial League of America indorses
Cozxey’s scheme, and the president of
the organization, Charlotte Smith, says
she has been delegated to head a small
army of women to Washington, bearing
the white flag of purity and peace, to
meet the stalwart men of the West and
unite with them in demanding of Con-
gress “to take action at once to relieve
the financial and industrial depression
now existing in these United States.”
The letter says her band will represent
50,000 women who are on.the verge of
starvation, “not through any fault ‘of
their own, because of trusts, combines,
contract labor, and the accursed sweat-
ing system fostered by both Democrats
and Republicans. We recognize that
the walking is bad, the distance great,
and that our finances are low, but we
hope to be in Washington in time to
join our protests with those of the Wes-
tern army.”
At Washington preparations have
been in progress for the past two weeks.
On March 22 the first drill for rapid as-
sembly held and the Fencibles, the
Washington Light Infantry Corps, the
Corcoran Cadet Corps, the Morton Ca-
dets, the War Department Guards and
the First, Second and Third Battalions
turned out in full force in less than five
hours.
These drills are being held from time
to time, and emergency calls for the
various regiments are being issued to
keep the men on the alert. Serious
trouble may arise should Coxey get a
streak of weather, which would bring
to his standard a number of vagrants
who are ever eager to join a foray of
this character, and the Washington
any emergency.
Reference has been made to the finan-
cial projects of the Coxey propaganda.
The following is the full text of the
bill which is before Congress :
“Section 1. Be it enacted by the
Senate and House of Representatives in
Congress assembled :
tary of the Treasury of the United States
is hereby ‘authorized and instructed to
have engraved and printed, immediately
after the passage of this bill, five hun-
dred millions of dollars of Treasury
notes, a legal tender for all debts, public
and private, said notes to be in denom-
inations of one, two, five and 10 dollars,
and to be placed in a fund to be known
as the general country road and system
of the United States,” and to be expend-
ed solely for said purpose. °
“Section 2. And be it further enacted.
That it shall be the duty, of the Secre-
tary of War to have charge of the said
‘general country road system of the
United States,” and said construction to
commence as soon asthe Secretary of
the Treasury shall inform the Secretary
of War that the said fund is avaliable,
which shall not be later than 3
when it shall be the duty of the Secre-
tary of War to inaugurate the work and
expend the sum of twenty millions of
dollars per month, pro rata with num-
ber of miles of road in each state and
territory in the United States.
“Section 83 Be it further enacted,
That all labor other than that of the office
of Secretary of War, ‘whose compensa-
tions are already fixed by law,’ shall be
paid by the day, and that the rate be
not less than $1.50 per day tor common
labor, and $3 50 per day for team and
labor, and that eight hours shall consti-
tuta a day’s labor under the provisions of
this bill.”
Aud here is the text of the non-inter-
est-bearing bond bill now" before con-
ress :
“Be it enacted, etc., That whenever
any state, territory, county, township,
municipality or incorperated town, or
village deem it necessary to make any
public improvements, they shall deposit
with the Secretary of the Treasury of
the United States a non-interest-bearing
25-year bond, not exceeding one-half the
ascessed valuation of the property in
said State, Territory, county, township,
municipality, or incorporated town or
village, and said bond to be retired at
the rate of 4 per cent. per annum.
«Whenever the foregoing section of
this act has been complied with, it shall
be mandatory upon the Secretary of the
Treasury of the United States to have
engraved and printed Treasury notes in
the denominations of one, two, five, 10
troops intend to be fully prepared for
That the Secre- |
and 20 dollars each, which shall be a
full legal tender for all debts, public or
private, to the face value of said bond,
and deliver to said State, Territory,
county, township, municipality, or in-
corporated town or village, 99 per cent.
of said notes, and retain 1 per cent. for
expenses of engraving and printing the
same.”
As soon as the Army ot the Common-
weal reaches Washington they will de-
mand the passage of this bill.
A Cure for Anarchy.
Occasionally a doctor of the social
ills is by chance brought to take his
own medicine. Asa rale doctors do
not like their own medicine ; but the
latest example of that sort presented in
Paris shows that while this particular
physician does not like his own medi-
cine any better than others it has
wrought a wounderfu! cure.
The physician in gestion is M. Tail-
hade, a Socialist poet of Paris, who has
cherished a warm poetic ferver for the
dynamiters. When one of his zealous
brethren blew up the Cafe Foyot the
other day M Tailbhade happened to be
taking refreshment there at the time,
and received the most heroic dose of
the medicine intended to cure the body
politic and wipe out the intamous
bourgeoisie. Besides several severe
wounds M. Tailhade had large areas
of anatomy sowed with small atoms of
broken glass, and, on the whole, the
Anarchist poet is the most eminent ex-
ample of the Anarchist hoist with his
own petard that could be presented
short of the case of those enthusiastic
and misguided dy: amiters who. in the
attempt to blow up others, have scat-
tered themselves over several blocks of
the neighborhood.
The value of the dynamite dose in
thie case is demonstrated by the fact
that it has cured M. Tailhade of
aoarchy. The intervals which he can
spare between howling with pain and
begging the surgeons to relieve hissys-
tem of its surplus of broken glass are:
spent in renouncing anarchy, de:
nouncing the dynamiters and protest-
ing his horror of all their works. Since
this comparatively mild dose has
wrought a complete cure in the Social-
ist poet, we are at liberty to conclude
that the dynamiters who left not
enough of themselves to afford mater-
ial for a funeral are also cured as well
as killed.
So we see that dynamite, although
useless as a destroyer of the social sys-
tem, is very effective as a reformer of
the Anarchists. If it kills them in the
treatment we have the satisfaction of
knowing that in that case the perma-
ency of the cure is certainly assured.
The Century War Book.
A Beautiful Historical Book Being Issued by “The
Philadelphia Inquirer.—Something About This
Superb Publication, Written by the Men Who
Fought the Battles and Illustrated by War
Time Pictures.
Widespread interest has been excit-
ed among war veterans and all classes
of citizens by the magnificent record of
the Civil War which is now being dis-
tributed by the Philadelphia Inquirer.
This is the “Century War Book,” a
work which has attained the reputation
of being the most accurate, complete
and artistically beautiful history of the
war ever published. When originally
issued several years ago it sold at from
$22 to $28, but The Inquirer is offering
it to its readers in weekly parts at a
merely nominal cost each week. The
text of the work is made up of contri-
butions written by all the great partici
pants in the war on both sides, includ-
ing Grant, Sherman, McClellan, Long-
street, Johnston, Hill, Howard, Beau-
regard, Buell, Kirby Smith, Law,
McManon, Fitz, John Porter, Burn-
side, Rosecrans, Sickles, Cox, Lew
Wallace, Imboden, Pope, Horace Por-
ter, Early, Pleasanton, Fry and: many
other leaders.
The main feature, however, is em-
braced in the portraits, illustrations
and maps, over 900 in number, all ex-
ecuted in the highest artistic style, and
many of them made from rare war-
time originals, The descriptions of
all the great battles are written by the
leading Generals who fought them,
and folly illustrated, yerv otien by
sketches made at the time. The pa-
per and print are superb and fully in
keeping with the usnal work of the
Century Company, which publishes the
work,
This superb history is published in
twenty parts, and Zhe Philadelphia
Inquirer has just begun the distribu-
tion, it being the intention to give out
one part each week until the series is
completed. To obtain this valuable
work all that is necessary is to cut out
a coupon from The Inguirer and send
it together with ten cents to The In
quirer Coupon Department, 1109 Mar-
ket street, Philadelphia.
—— The best tobacco bags are made
not of leather or rubber, but of the
pouch of a pelican, The monstrous
membrane which fills out the lower bill
of the pelican is soft and very thin, of
very fine texture, easily tanned, and
when dressed makes a beautiful article of
leather, possessing the quality of being
as impervious to water as india rubber.
Tobacco kept in it will never become
dry, but preserve its sweetness and
aroma even longer than when preserved
in tin foil.
The Rural New Yorker reports
that crimson clover, sown August 28 in
New Jersey, lived through the winter in
good condition, though the thermome-
ter was at onetime 6 degrees below zaro.
This hardiness of crimson clover will
adapt it to many localities where it bad
been supposed impossible to grow it. If
; it will endure a cold of 6 degrees helow
zero it onght to be sate to grow almost
anywhere in Pennsylvania, southern
New £ngland and western New York.
——Tt is said that President Cleve-
land wili go to the Katahdin Iron
Works, in Maine, this spring or summer
for a few days’ fishing.
‘green most effectively.
For and About Women.
Miss Parker daughter of ex-Sheriff
Parker, is proving an efficient deputy
sheriff in Chester county. She is one of
the very few women in the country
serving in that capacity. Sheriff In-
gram says she is an official jewel.
It is a pity that girls who are dispos-
ed to be witty at the expenseof others
do not know how unattractive they
make themselves, and how often they
offend against good taste. A smart
girl sometimes says unkind and untrue
things about her comrades, and thinks
it all right when those to whom she says
them laugh at them. Don’t be deceived
girls. Two or three sharp and uncharit-
able speeches may warn your best con-
quests off the premises of your heart,
though that heart may be kind and true
and loyal, and put upon its mettle,
would disown the acrid utterances ot
that thoughtless little tongue of yours.
Cutting speeches do not pay in the end.
They cause a laugh, perhaps, but leave
a bitter memory. And they are not al-
ways true. Don’t be funny at the ex-
pense of truth, of charity, of good breed-
ing. :
Umbrellas are more needle-like and |
thin than ever. Changeable taffeta is
most popular as covering, red, dark
blue, brown and tan being good colors.
The casings of these umbrellas come in
plain shades of red, blue and brown,
and they make a neat and pretty effect
when carried by a tailor made girl.
Satin ribbon, three inches wide, fold-
ed to the width of the ordinary coilar
and fastened at the side in a butterfly
bow, is a change from the shirred vel-
vet cellar, that has receivea the approv-
al of Madam la Mode.
There is a great fancy forsilken skirts
under drapery of wool. By drapery is
meant the proper term covering over-
skirts, paniers and all skirt ornamenta-
tion involving folds of material. Thus
a drapery of deep green serge was cut in
vandykes reaching from almost the edge
of the skirt to the knees. From under
these points a skirt of rainbowed silk
escaped. It was set in deep organ pipe
folds all around, one fold coming from
under each point at the beginning of
the vandykes, with mathematical pre-
cision about the knee line. The rain-
bow effect was carried out in perpen-
dicular shading, and the general tone
was emerald green, the emerald color
occurring with regularity on the round
of each fold. Inthe under curves of
the folds a rcse color shone and a shad-
owing of purple and deep red accom-
plished the transition of the shades.
The bodice of this charming gown was
of the deep green serge, with folded col-
lar of the rainbow silk gathered into a
magnificent cut steel.
It is said that the practice of the wife’s
assuming the husband’s name at mar-
riage originated from a Roman custom,
ard became common after the Roman
occupation. Thus Julia and Octavia,
married to Pompey and Cicero, were
called by the Romans Julia of Pompey
and Octavia of Cicero, and later times
married women in most European
countries signed their names in the
same manner but omitted the “of.”
Again this view may be mentioned
that during the sixteenth, and even the
beginning of the seventeenth century,
the usage seems doubtful, since we see
Catherine Parr so signing herself after
she had been twice married, and we al-
ways hear of Lady Jane Grey (not Dud-
ley) and Arabella Stewart (not Sey-
mour). Some persons think that the
custom originated from the scriptural
teaching that husband and wife are one.
It was decided in the case of Bon vs.
Smith, in the reign of Elizabeth, that a
woman by marriage loses her former
name and legally receives that of her
husband.
Black moire is now a favorite stuff for
the stylish 1830 coats. 1ts stiffness suits
the style to a dot and its lustre makes
it always appropriate for dressy occa-
sions, A fair woman or a red blonde
could wear the same material in dark
The coat is
made perfectly close-fitting, with a
waistband of black satin ribbon richly
embroidered in ;et, and finished with
two long scarfends of satin, which show
long jet fringe at the bottom. The re-
vers ure edged with long feather trim-
ming and tarn back over a little vest of
black moire. The sleeves are very
large at the top and the wrists are fin-
ished with gauntlet cuffs. This is one
of the handsomest coats shown this sea-
son.
Emily A. Bruce, M. D., declares that
more women die annually in England
because of faulty dress than from all
contagious diseases combined.
Pique has been in fashion, gone out
and returned again this spring, to be
welcomed most joyously by the mothers
of small girls and boys.
Pique kilt skirts the boys are wearing
with jaunty little jackets trimmed with
embroidered frills. And the little pique
coate of the girls are the newest things
out for the warm summer days to come.
The pique coat is short, reaching just
below the -waist-line. It fastens with
beautiful big mother of pearl buttons
and has a deep embroidered collar
which falls over the shoulders. Wide,
flaring cuffs of embroidery finish the
fall coat sleeve. A pretty idea is to
have the little coat cut in square tabs
around the bottom.
With the pique coat may be worn a
flat sun hat of insertion and shirred lawn
which ties with strings under the chin.
These hats are a pleasant change from
the sun-bonnet and may be bought for
85 cents.
The serge outing costume has appar
ently given way to the duck and pique
frocks made in tailor fashion. A de-
lightful white figure bad a pleated skirt
and a full jacket, with great revers
spreading from the line of the bust.
Giant pearl buttons were the only trim-
ming. This jacket was supposed to be
slipped on over a silk blouse, pale yel-
low having been chosen by the blonde
who was to wear it. ;
—— Subscribe for the WaTcHMAN,