Democratic watchman. (Bellefonte, Pa.) 1855-1940, May 11, 1894, Image 2

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Deworralic Waldan,
Bellefonte, Pa., May ll, 1894.
SEVEN TO ONE.
Out in a merry Western State
There dwelt an intellectual madam
Who, when new fads were started round,
With great acuteness, often had em.
Her chief concern was “wcman’s rights,”
And with a patience rarely noted
She cheered her little band along,
Until, at last, she really voted.
Her step was proud when, at the polls,
She gave her principles expression.
She went there with opinions firm.
Resolved to hear of no concession.
But good intentions often stray,
Mistakes will win, while men wonder,
She found—and shed a little tear—
Her tingle vote was quite snowed under.
Across the line, not far away,
Another woman lived obscurely.
She read the papers, as they came,
And told her views, though most demurely.
The scene of public toil she shunned,
But gave the love which tones and mellows
To sons who sprung up, lad by lad,
Till they were seven manly fellows.
And in the twilight of her life
She pondered well, while she was resting.
To make her mind up on some points
The villagers were then contesting.
She couldn’t vote, but still they ha
The benefit of her reflection ;
For seven men went mother’s way,
And seven carried the election.
—Chicago News.
—————
THE CONQUEST OF MISS PINK-
ERTON.
Of the score or more of doors ranged
with painful regularity on either side
of the fourth-story hall of the “Moun-
tain House’ only Miss Pinkertons stood
open. From it a soft, rosy light, like
a translucent pink mist, emanating
from the young lady's crimson cano-
pied lamp, issued, stretching across the
dim passage and flushing the white-
washed wall opposite like a sunset.
It was tinting the little housekeeper’s
complexion, too, as she sat beneath its
rays, absorbed in a lovestory, although
she was quite too young and pretty to
to need this foreign aid, and making
the little apartment, with its cheap
hangings, its silkaline pillows, its pal
try ornaments and pictures, look like a
luxurious bower. It was natural—for
the human eye, like the moth, instinc-
tively seeks the light—that the room
clerk, bending his weary steps towards
the blinking gasoline jet which showed
him his own room at the further end
of the corridor, should turn his gleam-
ing spectacles in its direction and that
his near-sighted orbs should rest lin-
geringly upon the pretty picture which
met his gaze. At the sound of his
footstep Miss Pinkerton laid down her
book, hesitated a moment and then
rising approached the door.
“Mr. Robins,” she said, scarcely
elevating her voice, for he was but just
beyond the pink, sheen-like partition,
“‘where there many arrivals on the
half-past nine train 2”
“Only three,” he replied, turning
with eager alacrity at the question and
retracing his steps.
“I hope,” she said, with a tinge of
sympathy in her flexible voice, very
grateful to the object of it, “that you
hadn't a great deal of difficulty in eat-
isfying them as to their rooms.”
“Oh, no,” he answered, leanjng
against the door-frame, asif in no hur-
ry to be gone. “They were all men,
are not 80 hard to please as you ladies
are. I wonder,” he went on, for his
companion made no comment upon
this statement, “if it would be the same
in everything. If you'd be as particu-
lar, for instance, in choosing a hus-
band.”
Miss Pinkerton laughed, a pretty,
musical laugh, as spontaneously gay
as a spring bird’s burst of melody.
“Judging from the married men of
my acquaintance I should think not,”
she said. ‘‘But, seriously, Mr. Rob-
bins,” lifting her eyes to his face and
then quickly veiling them with her
black-fringed lids, “you don’t mean me
tothink that you would’ be easily
pleased in a wife ? That would be
scarcely complimentary to the lady
you may select.” :
“The lady 1 may select,” thought
Robbins, witha momentary touch of
bitterness. “I am afraid,” he said, and
his voice had sunk several tones lower,
while something—perbaps it was the
reflection from. his shining glasses—
glistened in his honest eyes, “that I
should beas the ladies are about the
rooms, that I would set my heart up-
on one particular one and never would
be satisfied with any other.” His face
was turned toward the rose-colored
chamber. He had been making a
swift mental comparison between it
and his own barrack-like apartment,
vaguely wondering if the Garden of
Eden really grew trees “pleasant to the
eye’’ before the coming of Eve. Now
he turned his eyes inthe direction of
the deep-seated, semi-circular window
at the head of the corridor, which the
rising moon was flooding with sil-
ver.
“I am worn out,” he said, with a lit-
tle tremor like that of a tired child,
and dispirited. Won't you'—and his
voice was full of eager pleading—‘sit
with me just a little while in the win-
dow seat ? It would rest me as noth-
ing else would to talk to you.”
Miss Pinkerton hesitated. She was
one of those women to whose very ex-
istence a love affair is essential. Since
her pinafore days she had never been
without one on hand in some stage of
its progress, and this little flirtation
with the room clerk, in the absence of
anything more exciting, had kept her
afloat during that dreary summer, for
she had talents fitting her for a higher
position than that which she occupied
at the Mountain House. She had
been very prudent, however. A girl
who has her way to make in the world
can scarcely be expected tocarry a chap
erone. Miss Pinkerton realized this,
and Mr. Robbins had been dependent
upon the chance opportunities grow-
ing out of their allied occupations for
his interviews with her.
There had been an arrival that
morning, however, which had made
her situation an altogether different
one. Heruncle who had amassed a
fortune in the far West, had taken
apartments in the hotel, and with this
social backing the young lady felt that
she might venture upon more freedom
of action. It was this thought that
passed through her mind as she stood
hesitating in the doorway.
“I will go with you,” she said at
length, drawing her room door to be-
hind her, and so together they sat in
the deep window seat, basking in the
moon's intoxicating rays and drinking
in the beauty of the scene with-
out.
Miss Pinkerton’s uncle entered upon
the hotel register as Mr. Samel Berks-
dale, of Washington, D. C., was a stout
widower of 60 or more, whose grief for
his recently deceaed partner found ex-
pression in a suit of intensest sable, in
black shirt studs, a doublewidth hat
band,and an inky silk handkerchief
and whoesat apart from the rest of the
company absorbed in the sheets of a
newspaper, or puffing a cigar in deep
abstraction. He had brought a light
vehicle to the mountains with him,
a pair ot shining thoroughbreds, but
he seemed to take little pleasure in
them, only using thew to give his
niece an airing in her brief hours of
leisure in the afternoon.
“It was awfully sad about his wife.”
s0 eaid an acquintance of the late Mrs.
Barksdale to an idle group of gossips
assembled on the portico, on the occa-
sion of one of these expeditions to
watch the couple drive off. “She hated
the West—pined, you know, for early
associations ; but Mr. Barksdale had
that mania for accumuating which one
sees in some men (although he hadn’t
a chick or child to leave his money
to), and would never consent to come
home until he had pocketed a million
or so. Last fall he came to Washiog-
ton—his wife’s native place, you know
—and built a house, a semi-palace posi-
tively, in the northwestern part of the
city ; but the poor lady had scarcely
moved into it when she was seized with
an illnees and died.”
“How malapropos,” said a pretty
matron, taking a piece of embroidery
from a gay silk reticule and beginning
to work upon it. ‘It was Moses and
the promised land modernized.”
“Well,” (it was a girl in her teens
who spoke this time) “people can’t ex-
pect to live forever. That old couple
couldn't have taken any interest in life
on their own account, but it would
have been nice for Miss Pinkerton to
have an aunt living in Washington,
She teaches in a school there during
the winter, she tells me, and she might
have done something for her.”
“Perhaps rescued her from a wmar-
riage with Mr. Robbins,” putin anoth-
er matron, with a little laugh, not un-
mingled with scorn.
“Why rescued her?” asked an an-
gular spinster with eager curiosity,
“isn’t he what he ought to be ?”’
“Oh yes,” replied the other, “he is a
good fellow, an exceptionally good fel
low, but he hasn’t any money, and he
never will have any ; and I can’t bear
to see a pretty, spirited girl like that
taking the vow of perpetual poverty.”
“Now, who knows,” said the matron
with the reticule, speaking again, ‘‘but
that Mr. Barksdale will make his will
in Miss Pinkerton’s favor, and then,
with a ’bless you my children.’ depart
this life, and join Mrs. Barksdale—
well, wherever that good lady may
have located. That would be the
graceful thing to do.” ta
¢ He'll never do it,’ saia Mrs, Barks-
dale’s former acquaintance, speaking
with great decision of manner. ‘Miss
Pinkerton is his wife’s niece, not hie,
and he js not the kind of 2 man to leave
money outside of his own family.”
“Selfish old thing!” exclaimed
sweet sixteen, rising from her chair
and craning ber neck to catch a sight
ot the vehicle of which a sudden turn
in the mountain road gave them a
momentary glimpse. Don’t you think
it’s mean in him not to let Mr. Robbins
take a drive with Miss Pinkerton now
and then, instead of monopolizing her
every afternoon himself. The poor
fellow looks really thin.”
“Who is that, Robbins ?"’ asked a
gentleman, catching the last sentence
in passing, and joining the group.
“Well, Robbins bas cause to look thin.
A man who works hard all day, and
then sits up with his sweetheart half
the night can’t expect to look any oth-
er way.”
“Does he do that ?’ asked one or two
eager voices.
“Now, ladies,” said the new arrival,
with an air of incredulity, “you don’t
mean to insinuate that 1 car give you
any information regarding this affair of
which you are not already possessed.
You must have stumbled upon Rob:
bins and the little housekeeper sitting
in the fourth-story hall window in the
moonlight.”
“The fourth-story window,” gasped
the stout lady. “I never expect to get
as high as that in this elevatorless
region.”
The gentleman laughed. “Well,”
he said, “my room happens to be at
the extreme end of that corridor, and
I have to get up that high, and the
very last sound borne in over my
tramsom is that cf Robbins’ voice in
that peculiar buzzing, bumblebee ac-
cent which young men adopt when
doing their love-making. Pardon the
homely simile, ladies but Miss Webb
(with a glance at Miss in her teens)
understands the force of it.”
“Then it's really going to be a
match ?”’ chorused a full choir of fe-
male voices.
“And she'll find,” put in the angu-
lar spinster, “that married poor is a
good deal worse than single poor.”
The season waned, as seasons must,
The guests at the Mountain House
dwindled, as the petals of a flower fall
one by one, leaving only that naked
stalk, Miss Pinkerton, clad in the
choicest of traveling dresses, and look-
ing as fresh as the dewy morning itself
was standing on the platform of the
little narrowgange railroad station say-
ing good-bye to the rubicund-faced pro-
prietor.
“Well,” said that genial individual,
“we'll see you here next summer, I
hope.”
The little housekeeper looked up,
then looked down again, smiling and |
dimpling in the prettiest confusion. *'I
am afraid not,” she said at length
with a shake of the head.
“Afraid not.” echoed the proprietor;
why, we can’t do without you. We
depend upon yon, you know (with an
attempt at pleasantry) to assist usin
retaining Mr. Robbins’ services.
Miss Pinkerton looked down again,
and this time a crimson flood likea
tidal wave swept up the very crown of
her jaunty sailor hat.
“The truth is, Mr. Hoffman,” she
said and the agile tongue became
strangely entangled in the words,
“I—1 am going to be married. I sup-
pose there’s hardly any use keeping it
a secret now.”
“Going to be married,” repeated Mr,
Hoffman in his heartiest tone, taking
her little hand between both of his
well cushioned palms and giving it a
prolonged shake “Well, I'm delighted.
I don’t often congratulate a lady on
an occasion of thie sort but I do con-
gratulate you. Ihave bad Mr. Rob-
bins with me row for four years, and I
consider him an exceptionally worthy
man. You are taking a step, Miss
Pinkerton, that I am sure you will nev-
er regret.”
“Good-bye again,’ said Miss Pinker-
ton, disengaging her hand from the
proprietor’s warm grasp as a signal for
departure sounded, and mounting the
car step.
“I say,” said that gentleman, caliing
out to her as she smiled at him from
the window, “I will rely on you to use
your influence with our mutual friend
—you know what I mean. And you
come back, too.”
“Yes,” said Miss Pinkerton waving
a final adieu as the train moved out of
the station. But Miss Pinkerton did
not come back.
Mr. Barksdale, despite his millions,
was as uutraveled as the little house-
keeper herself, and together they were
making the tonr of Europe, taking
their time and doing the thing
thoroughly, And Mr. Robbins—well,
Mr. Robbins didn’t come back either.
—Gilberta S. Whittle.
The Chinese Emperor’s Heir.
Story of 'the Present Emperor's Accession to
Power.
The announcement of the birth of an
heir to the Emperor of China, which
was published yesterday, recalls the
story of the alleged tragedy which signal-
ized his accession to the throne. His
predecessor. T’ung-chi, died, as was
announced, of smallpox, on Jan. 12,
1875. Tu is said that his death was
really due to poison. At the time of
his death his Empress, Ahluta, the
daughter of Duke Clung, whom he had
married in October, 1872, when he was
16. was pregnant. Her child, if a boy,
would have been the legal Emperor, as
well as heir by direct descent. She was
put in what was represented as honor-
able confinement, rendered necessary
bv her being the widow of the dead
Emperor and the possible mother of the
future Emperor, in the course of which
she, with ber unborn child died. Her
death was officially attributed to her re-
fusing tood because of her grief at the
loss of her husband; but there is said to
be good reason for believeing that it
was due to the same means which are
alleged to have caused her husband’s
death. The China Mall said of her
death at the time:
‘Her fate has indeed been an un-
happy one. Wedded at the age of 15,
she became a widow at 17, and since the
death of her husband has, if native re-
ports are'to be believed, led a most mis-
erable life. She is said to bave refused
all food for some days previous to her
death and to ha e died from exhaus-
tion. Whether these reports are true
or not, we can easily believe that her
position was a most unenviable one. At
best, she was exposed to perpetual seclu-
sion for many years to come, while she
was exposed to intrigues which in views
of her expected confinement, might
have had her death and that of the possi-
ble child as their object. Death was
probably a merciful relief.”
Other more outspoken authorities at-
tributed her death to foul means. The
reason her death was desirable was be-
cause the two Dowager Empresses, who
were regents of the Flowery Kingdom,
wanted to clear the way for the then
infant son of Prince Ch’un, the “Sev-
enth Prince,” a member of the imperial
family, although not of direct descent,
whom, for reasons which do not appear,
they had agreed to make the nominal
occupant of the throne. One of these
Dowager Empresses was the hapless
Ahluta’s mother-in-law. This infant
became of age in March, 1887, and as-
sumed control: of the Government in
February, 1889, when Ahluta’s mother-
in-law, who had survived her co-regent,
withdrew from power.
The present sovereign, who reigns
under the style of Kwangsii, was mar-
ried on Feb. 26, 1889. The birth of his
heir renders the succession of his dy-
nasty comparatively secure, although
he himself is in bad health and is not
likely to live long. When he was pro-
‘claimed Emperor, in accordance with
Chinese custom his dead predecessor
was declared to have adopted him, and
an edict to that effect was promulgated
throughout the empire.
——*The question has often been
asked why the army cadets at West
Point wear a gray uniform, while the
uniform of the army is blue,” remarks
the New York Tribune. ‘The origin
of this distinction dates back to the war
of 1812-14, when the Commissary Gen-
eral of the Army could not procure the
blue cloth required fcr General Win-
field Scott's brigade, and so they were
clad in gray. So distinguished was the
conduct of that brigade at Lundy’s Lane
and Chippewa that when, after the War
of 1812, a reorganization of the West
Point Military Academy was made, out
of compliment to General Scott and his
brigade the uniform of the corps of
cadets was changed from blue to bray.”
—— Colonel James Young, of Mid-
dletown, Pa., observed Arbor Day by
planting 150 fruit trees and 1,180 locust
trees on his farm adjoining the city,
AS ACY
Cleanliness the Cure.
Or Rather the Prevention, for the Spread of
Tuberculosis.— Consumption Not Hereditary.—
And is No Longer Regarded as Being of
Necessity Fatal. "
| In view of the agitation for cleanli-
| ness in street and elsewhere the follow-
ing extracts from an article upon “Tu-
{ berculosis and Its Prevention,” by Dr.
T. Mitchell Pruden, in Harper's, are of
decided current interest :
Almost as soon as the significance of
the tubercle bacillus was established, a
series of studies was undertaken on the
possibility of the spreal of the disease
by the breath or exhalations of the per-
sons of consumptives. These studies at
once showed that the tubercle bacillus
cannot be given off into the air of the
breath from the moist surfaces of the
mouth and air passages, nor from any
material which may come from them
while it remains moist nor from healthy
unsoiled surfaces of the body. The es-
tablishment of this fact is of far-reach-
Ing consequence, because it shows that
neither the person nor the breath of the
consumptive is a direct source of danger,
even Lo his most constant and intimate
attendants.
It is the sputum after its discharge
from the body on which our attention
must be fixed. While the sputum is
moist it can, as a rule, do no harm, un-
less it should be directly transmitted to
those who are well by violent coughing,
by tne use of uncleansed cooking or eat-
ing untensils, by soiled hands, or by
such intimate personal contact as kiss-
ing or fondling. But ifin any way the
sputum becomes dried, on floors or walls
or bedding, on handkerchiefs or towels,
or on the person of the patient, it may
soon become disseminated in the air as
dust, and can then be breathed into the
lungs of exposed persons. This germ-
laden material floating in the air may
be swallowed, and thus enter the re-
cesses of the body through other portals
than the lungs, but these are the most
vulnerable and accessible organs.
THE GREAT SOURCE OF DANGER.
The wide distribution of tubercle
bacilli in the air of living rooms, and
in other dusty places where people go,
is due partly to the frequency of the
disease, and the large numbers of living
bacilli which are cast off in the sputum
(sometimes millions in aday), und part-
ly to the fact that many of the victims
of consumption go about among their
fellows for purposes of business or plea-
sure for months or years. So each con-
sumptive, if not intelligently careful,
may year after year be to his fellow-
men a source of active and serious and
continual infection.
This, then, the dried, uncared-for
sputum of those suffering from pul-
monary tuberculosis, is the great source
of danger ; this the means so long con-
cealed by which a large part of the
human race prematurely perishes. Let
but this discharged material be rendered
harmless or destroyed before it dries in
all cases, and the ravages of this scourge
would largely cease. This is nct a theo-
retic matter only, for again and again
have the living and virulent germs been
found clinging to the walls and furni-
ture and bedding and handkerchiefs of
consumptive persons, and in the dust of
the rooms in which they dwell. A
malady whose victims far outnumber
those of all other infections diseases put
together sparing neither rich nor poor,
seizing upon life whileit is as yet only
# promise, but most inexorable in the
fullness of its tide—this malady can be
largely prevented by the universal and
persistent practice of intelligent cleanli-
ness.
We have learned in the past few years
one fact about tuberculosis which is of
incalculable comfort to many, and that
is that the disease is not hereditary. It
is very important that we should under-
stand this. because itseems to contradict
a long-prevalent tradition, and a belief
still widely and sorrowfully entertained.
Bacteria, and especially most disease-
producing bacteria, are very sensitive in
the matter of growth and proliferation
to the conditions under which they are
placed, and especially to the material
on which they feed. So that a germ
which can induce serious disease in one
species of animal is harmless in the
body ot a different though closely allied
form. More than this, different 1ndivid-
uals of the same species, or the same
individual at different times, may have
the ,most marked differences in sus-
ceptibility in the presence of disease-
producing germs. What this subtle
difference is we do not know.
INFECTION, NOT HEREDITY.
But this we do know, however much
the child of tubercular parents or a
member of a tubercular family may be
predisposed to the disease, he cannot ac-
quire tuberculosis unless by some mis-
chance the fateful germ enters his body
from without. What has been through
all these years regarded as the strongest
proof of the hereditary transmission of
tuberculosis—namely, the occurrence of
the disease in several members of the
same household--is, in the new light,
simply the result of household infec-
tion—the breathing of air especially
liable to contain the noxious germs, or
their entrance in some other way into
the bodies of persons especially sensitive
to their presence. \
But it will perhaps be said: “If the
tubercle bacilli are so widely diffused,
why do we not all acquire tuberculosis,
and why was the world not long since
depopulated? In order to explain this
matter I must ask the reader to look
with me for a moment at some of the
body’s safeguards against bacterial and
other invaders from the air. It has been
found that a person breathing in germ
and dust laden air through the nose
breathes out again air which is both
dust and germ free. The air passages
of the nose are tortuous and lined with
a moist membrane, against which the air
impinges in its passage. On these moist
surfaces most of the solid suspended
particles, the germs among them, are
caught and held fast,and may be thrown
off again in thesecretion. In breathing
through the mouth this safeguard is not
utilized. Again, the upper air passages
leading to the lungs are lined with a
delicate membrane of cells, whose free
surfaces are thickly beset with tiny
hairlike projections. These projections
are constantly moving back and forth
with a quick sweep in such a way that
they carry small particles which may
have escaped the barriers above up into
' the mouth, from which they may be
readily discharged. In this way much
i
1
LS nd doe
of the evil of breathing dust and germ-
laden air is averted. But in spite of
these natural safe-guards a great deal of
foreign material does, under the ordi-
nary conditions of lite in-doors or in
dusty places, find lodgment in the deli-
cate recesses of the lungs. The body
tolerates a good deal of the deleterious
material, but its overtasked toleration
fails at last, when serious disease may
ensue,
THE PERILS OF TRAVEL.
Probably the most serious source of
infection which one is liable to en-
counter in the usual ways of life is the
occupancy at hotels of bedrooms vacated
by consumptives without subsequent
efficient disinfection and cleansing, and
travel in sleeping cars. I need not enter
here into the harrowing details of desper-
ate uncleanness which the ordinary rail-
way travel brings to light. Itis to be
hoped that popuiar demand for reform
in the routine of hotelkeepers and rail-
road managers in the matter of ordinary
sweeping and dusting, and in the pre-
cautions against the spread of tuber-
culosis, may soon usher in among them
a day of reasonable sanitary intelligence.
A belief in the communicability of
tuberculosis is becoming widely diffused,
‘and it would seem to be desirable, on
: the ground of policy alone, for the
managers of summer, and especially of
winter resorts frequented by consump-
tives, to let it be known in no uncertain
way that their precautions against the
spread of infectious diseases are effectual-
ly in line with the demands of modern
sanitary science.
The members of families bearing a
hereditary susceptibility to the acquire-
ment of this disease should strive to
foster those conditions which favor a
healthy, vigorous lite, in occupation,
food, exercise and amusement, and re-
member that for them more than for
others it is important to avoid such oe-
cupations and places as favor the dis-
tribution, in the air or otherwise, of the
tubercle bacillus.
But when the individual has done
what he can in making his surroundings
clean, and in thus limiting the spread
of the tubercle bacillus, there still re-
mains work for municipal and State
and national authorities in diffusing the
necessary knowledge of the disease and
its modes of prevention ; in directly
caring for those unable to care for
themselves ; in securing for all such
freedom ’from contact with sources of
the disease as the dictates of science and
humanity may require and the law
permit.
OFFICIAL INTELLIGENCE.
Tuberculosis has in this country been
officially almost entirely ignored in
those practical measures which health
boards universally recognize as efficient
in the suppression of this class of mala-
dies. Physicians are not now required
to report it to the local health boards, so
far as I am aware, except in one of the
United States. Systematic official mea-
sures of disinfection are not practised,
and no attempts at isolation are made.
But the official measures just mentioned
have been found extremely useful in the
limitation of other communicable dis-
eases. While consumption must logically
be classed with diphtheria and scarlatina
and smallpox as a communicable germ
disease, it is, in fact, in the light of our
present knowledge, when intelligently
cared for, so little liable to spread that
it is properly exempt from some of thcse
summary measures which health au-
thorities are justifled in adopting with
the more readily and less avoidably
communicable maladies. Moreover,
consumption is apt to involve such
prolonged illness, and so often permits
affected persons for months and years to
go about their usual avocations, that
general isolation would be both im-
practicable and ‘inhumane. Moreover,
for reasons which it is hoped are evident
to the reader, isolation among those
capable of caring for themselves is at
present entirely unnecessary.
It is no longer for us the hopeless
malady which it was earlier believed to
be. It is not necessarily a bitter losing
fight upon which one enters who be-
comes aware that the finger of this dis-
ease is upon him. A long and happy
-and useful life may still be his if the
conditions which favor his cure be early
and intelligently fixed upon, and pa-
tiently and faithfully persisted in. The
wise physician is here the best adviser
in climate and regimem, as well as in
proper selection of remedial measures,
and the earlier his counsel is sought and
acted on, the brighter will usually be
the outlook for r.covery.
———
Drivers Turn to the Left.
How a Peculiar Rule Observed by the English
Originated. x
“T came near having several collisions
while driving in and about London on
a recent visit to England, because I
couldn’t get the hang of tarning to the
left instead of the right upon meeting a
vehicle, as we do in this country,” said
Mr. Henry Shulter, a globe-trotter.
you know we always turn to the right
in this country, and but for the vigil-
ance of the English driver I would have
been mixed up in more than one smash
up. I asked dozens of Englishmen why
they bad such abominable customs, and
not one could tell, except that they had
always done it. One day I stepped in-
to a newspaper office and asked one of
the editors. He couldn’t tell. He ap-
pealed to a young reporter in the room
and the boy gave the explanation that
olden times the foot traveler passed to
the right that the shield on the left arm
might be interposed to ward off a treach-
erous blow and the right, or sword arm,
be free to strike.
“Horsemen, however, usually had
coats of mail to protect them, and there
was more safety in being near the an-
tagonist than in having to strike across
the neck of the horse, as would have
been necessary had they turned to the
right. When vehicles came in use lat-
er the drivers instinctively followed the
old horseback custom and turned to the
left. And I believe I have found why
we have fallen into the habit of turning
to the right. Horses were scarce for
several generations in this country after
the first settlers came here, and the
English custom for foot travelers nat-
urally prevailed, for we were very
English in those early days, as
you know. We got in ‘the habit of
turning to the right, and when convey-
ances hecame common we kept turning
to the right, because more used to it. A
nation will drop into a habit as easily as
an individual,
For and About Women,
Mrs Humphery Ward is a regular
church-goer and much annoyed that the
opinions with which she invests the
characters in her works are always tak-
en to represent her own in their entire-
ty, whereas she creates them and builds
them up as an artist paints a picture.
Shorthand and typewriting are quite
overdone, unless the operator is an ex-
pert, in which case there is an excellent
opportunity for good workers. Teleg-
raphy is subject to very much the same
criticism. Expert operators who are
steady and reliable are rarely idle.
Trained nursing offers a most excellent
field for conscientious, painstaking
young women. It is altogether likely
that the environment of a first class.
nurse is more agreeable, aside from the
necessary discomforts that occasionally
attend the sick room, than almost any
occupation a woman can choose. The
high-class nurse becomes a friend, almost.
the confidential companion, of invalids:
She is looked after and attended upon as.
in no other profession. This is necess-
ary in order that her entire strength and
attention may be bestowed upon her
charge. If a young woman will take
up this branch with enthusiasm, make
herself a medical student as well asa
trained nurse, and carefully watch for
opportunity to improve, her future is
likely to be exceptionally bright.
If we are to wear draped skirts, the
pointed ‘‘apron’’ drapery, reaching to
the edge of the dress in the immediate
front, and drawn thence in upward di-
rection to the hips, terminating there,
the back of the skirt being moderately
full, is as pretty a style as any and also
becoming to most figures.
One of the most fushionable ways of
dressing the hairs to roll it off the brow
and temples and form a low coiled chig-
non and rouleaux behind the ears.
The “sweet simplicity” of white mus-
lin is insisted upon for graduation
gowns this season in many of the best
schools in the land, says Harper's Ba-
zar. All elaboration of fabrics and
trimmings are forbidden by some teach-
ers, others permit only ribbon trim-
mings, and still others allow embroidery
or lace, provided it is not extravagantly
used.
There are now so many fine muslins
of snowy whiteness—not cream-tinted—-
that it is difficult to select among them.
Perhaps the first choice is for trans-
parent mull entirely of cotton, yet as
glossy as silk muslin, which is sold at $1
a yard, and a second heavier quality at
65 cents ; both are 45 inches wide. The
sheerest organdies, 66 inches wide, are
50 to 70 cents, while those half the
width, one entirely without dressing, are
30 cents. Pin-dotted Swiss muslin is
even more popular than it was last sum-
mer, and costs, in 31 inch widths, from
45 to 60 cents a yard, depending on the
quality. A novelty highly commended
by merchants of taste for these girlish
frocks is silk gingham, also called swiv-
el silk, a mixture of cotton and silk, the
ground smoothly woven, and powered
effectively with tiny silk figures or elon-
gated dashes. This is three-fourths of a
yard wide and costs but 55cents. It is
said to wash as well as other ginghams,
is durable, pretty, and inexpensive, need-
ing only ribbons for trimming.
High waists with long, large sleeves
are prescribed at many schools for com-
mencement dresses, whether for day or
evening. The freshest models have a
belted waist gathered over a fitted lining
of Victoria lawn that is low in the neck
and trimmed there with lace or beading
with baby ribbon drawn through it as
in corset covers. Some waists have a
square yoke of insertions and puffs,
others are entirely of lengthwise puffs
between embroidered or lace gfunsertion,
and others, full at the belt, have cross-
rows of insertion at front and back.
Sleeves without lining have a wide puff
to the elbow, or two or three puffs, or
else they are in mutton-leg shape. Some
sleeve have three epaulets of embroidery
at the top, and others have insertion
lengthwise in the puff reaching to the
elbow and going around the closed low-
er part, or else the elbow puff is finished
with a lace ruffle falling toward the
hand. :
White satin or moire ribbons 2% or
6 inches wide are chosen for these
gowns, and are used very simply. A
band of the ribbon is drawn in folds
around the collar band as a stock, and
ends in the back in the bow with hori-
zontal loops. ‘With this is a ribbon belt
with a similar crosswise bow in front,
and a drooping bow at the back, with
short ends or long sash ends, as one
chooses. To trim the waist turther, the
ribbon starts from the belt in the back,
and up a braces, crosses the shoulders to
end in front at the end of the yoke in a
small rosette close against each sleeve.
When this trimming 1s not used, a
wider ribbon forms a large bow across
the breast, usually at the end of the
yoke. :
Fashion has gone lace-mad.
Black and white effects still prevail,
Capes and collets, in great variety are
all the go. The newest models for
young ladies wear are very dainty eith-
er in black or colored cloths. A charm-
ing one made of mastic cloth attached
to a lace-covered yoke of white satin is
most attractive. A rolied band of vel-
vet, slightly darker than the cloth,
frames the yoke, describing a point in
the back and finished in front with a
rosette on each side. The collar, in the
vase-shaped style, being of the same
materials as the yoke. White is much
utilized this season both alone and
white silk or satin is frequently employ-
ed in conjunction with dark colors. The
newest bolero bodice is made of colored
velvet veiled with guipure or Venetian
embroidery and lined with silk. The
back is very short and there are no
sleeves, which permits]of it being easily
slipped on and gives a dressy appear-
ance to the simplest of dresses.
Of the late Martha G. Kimball,
who first sugzested Decoration day, Geo.
W. Childs once remarked : ‘She has
done more good deeds and said more
kind words than any woman I have
ever known.”
~—Do you read the WATCHMAN,