Bellefonte, Pa., Aug. 17, 1894.
absent-minded and less inclined to talk
than usual. There was silence for
1 a minute while she worked as if her
| life depended upon getting done at a
| certain moment. Mrs. Bradley was
| just thinking how useless it was to try
A FISHING PARTY.
Wunst we went a-fishin’—me
An’ my Pa an’ Ma—all three,
When they was a picnic, wa
Out to Hanch’s Woods one day.
An’ they was a creek out there,
Where the fishes is, an’ where
Little boys ’tain’t big and strong
Better have their folks along.
My Pa he ist fished an’ fished!
An’ my Ma she said she wished
Me an’ her was home ; an’ Pa
Said he wished so worsen Ma.
Pa said ef you talk, er say
Anythin’ er sneeze, er play,
Hain’t no fish, aliye or dead,
Ever go’ to bite, he said.
Purt’ nigh dark in town when we
Got back home ; an’ Ma, says she,
Now she'll have a fish for shore !—
An’ she buyed one at the store.
Nen at supper, Pa he won't
Eat no fish, an’ says he don’t
Like 'em. An’ he pounded me
When I choked !—Ma didn’t he?
—James Whitcomb Riley, in the Century.
LE
DEACON BATES WIFE.
BY MRS. C. M. LIVINGSTONE.
Mre. Bradley had come upto Berk
shire with her husband and many oth-
ers to attend the annual convocation of
their church. While she rested in her
room after the morning session, she
beard a conversation which interested
her, between two men on the veranda
just under her window.
Through the half-open blinds ghe
recognized one of them as Deacon
a sturdy farmer delegate, who
had shown much good sense in the
few words he had spoken upon one of
the resolutions in the business meeting.
Bates,
“Whether farming can ba made
pay or not, depends a good deal upon
the kind of a wife a man has.’ Dea-
con Bates was saying, and this was
the sentence which arrested Mrs. Brad-
ley’s attention.
“If he has to run the farm and the
house too, and depend upon hired help,
he can’t lay anything up. One of my
neighbors is in that fix ; his wife don’t
know how to work herself ; she trusts
everything to help, and she spends her
time gadding about. Things go
sixes and sevens; their butter and
Joaley are the poorest in the market.
I believe I've got
the best wife in the country, myself,”
he went on, tipping his chair back
against the house and clasping his
hands over the back of his head ; ‘she
beats everything there is going for
am sorry for him.
to get anything out of such a wooden
woman, when suddenly Mrs. Bates
without lifting her eyes, jerked out a
question.
«Mrs. Bradley, I should like to
know—would you mind telling me—
what it was Daniel said that day up to
Berkshire ?’
“Who? Mr. Bates? Oh, hesaid he
had the best wife in the whole
country !”’
And then, searching her memory,
Mrs. Bradley gave a faithful report of
what she had beard.
It was carious to note the effect of
her words in the light which came in-
to the sad eyes, and the faint flush
which stole over the faded cheeks.
“Did Daniel say that ?”’
The wistful tone and the starting
tear were pitiful to the other woman,
who affected not to see or hear any-
thing. She broke off a spray of flow:
ering currant, and said, as she tucked
it in her belt and moved away :
“Yes, he did, and I quite agree with
him.” And then remarked to herself
—Poor creature, she has a heart after
all!”
It was an hour later when Mrs.
Bradley sat alone on the front piazza,
that Deacon Bates, his chores all done,
came and sat on the upper steps. He
was a man of much shrewd intelligence
who read his weekly religious paper
from end to end, and liked to discuss
an article on a doctrine with a bright
woman like Mrs. Bradley. His wife
was still busy in the kitchen, as the
rattle of milk cans occasionally testi-
fied.
Mrs. Bradley's thoughts followed
the tired worker ; her kind heart
longed to make the weary life of this
woman different. If only somebody
would speak a few plain words to her
husband, she reflected, and get his
eyes opened.
“Why not do that yourself,” eaid
her inner voice.
She shrank from that, through tell-
ing her conscience that perhaps she
would sometimes, if she got a good op-
portunity.
The deacon, taking off his hat, ran
his fingers meditatively through his
gray locks, and opened up oo an article
he had read that afternoon on the com-
parative merits of a trade or profess-
ion compared with farming.
“In my opinion,” he declared, after
descanting at some length upon the
subject, “the farmer has the best of it
to
at
work, She tends to everything her- | everytime ; it’s a healthy, independent
self ; is up at daylight, and sometimes
before, her butter is tip-top ; we get the
biggest prices going. She's a splen-
did cook, too ; I never need to go away
from home to get good victuals, now I
tellyou. Well, the fact is, she is ag smart
as a steel trap at anything she takes
She makes all her own
clothes and most of mine, and boards
the farm hands, and once in a while
I ney-
er would a been so forehanded if it
And she's al-
ways at home, summer and winter ; I
don't believe she’s been off the place,
hold of.
also takes some city boarders.
hadn’t a been for her.
only to church this twenty years.”
“Poor drudge!”
put an end to the conversation.
It so happened that in the course
that summer Mr. and Mrs. Bradley
wishing to find comfortable quarters
for a few weeks in the country, near
enough to the city so that Mr. Bradley
could go in and out conveniently, were
directed to Berkshire and to the. house
of Deacon Bates.
It was not until she got seated at the
tea table in the cool dining-room of the
Bates family one July evening, that
Mrs. Bradley identified the man with
Bates
did not look in the least like the busy
bustling worker Mrs. Bradley had
pale
woman, with gray hair and wistful
Her low spoken words
were few, and her manner apathetic,
as if life had lost its flavor, if it ever
Mrs.
an extraordinary wife.
pictured. She was a small,
brown eyes.
had any.
During the next few weeks Mrs.
Bradley had opportunity to prove that
Deacon Bates had spoken truly of ais
Her house was a model of neat-
ness, her “victuals” were truly deli-
cious, each day she turned off an
amount of work, assisted by only one
other pair of hands, which was truly
“A working wachine,”
Mrs. Bradley thought, as she watched
the treadmill round of skimming milk,
dressing poultry,
washing, ironing, cooking and wash-
ing dishes, beginning at sunrise and
not by any means concluded at sunset.
Sometimes in the twilight the tired
woman rested a few minutes, then Mrs.
life,
would try to awaken her interest in an
article in the newspaper, or a bit from
an amusing book ; but the weary list-
ener usually nodded in the midst of it.
One evening after tea, as Mrs. Brad-
ley wandered about the place, she came
upon Mrs. Bates, who was out under
the apple tree engaged in picking
wife,
incredible.
churning, baking,
Bradley, pitving the narrow
chickens.
“You are at it early and late, aren’t
she
watched the swift fingers travel over
“] heard that
Io were perfectly remarkable, but I
ad not imagined that one so persist.
you?” Mrs. Bradley eaid as
the plump chicken.
ingly industrious existed.”
“You heard that of me ?’ Mrs. Bates
exclaimed with more interest than she
“How
had ever before displayed.
could you?”
“Tt was when the convention was
held at Berkshire. 1 happened
hear your husband sounding your
praises.”
Mra. Bradiey hoped that at last she
had found a key to open this closed
heart as a gleam of surprise flashed
for an instant on the worn face of the
farmer's wife, so she exerted all her
powers of pleasing ; she praised the
flower garden, and admired the luxuri-
clambered over the
wood-houge; but Mrs. Bates seemed
ant vine which
v
Mrs. Bradley ex-
claimed to herself, as the dinnper-bell
sort of life, and he doesn’t have to
work like a slave the year round. In
the winter he can get time to tinker at
odd jobs and do a sight of reading be-
sides, if he's so disposed.”
Then Mrs. Bradley could not resist
saying :
“And the farmers’ wives? They,
too, have a good rest in the winter—
fairly idle, aren’t they ?’
“Oh, no, there's plenty of work, but
it isn’t hard. In the fall, after the ber-
ries are put up, comes the drying of
apples and pumpkine. Then there's
sausages to make, and lard and tallow
to fry out.—When all that's done,
there's a lot of sewing and knitting and
carpet rags. My wife makes her own
carpets, and my clothes, and the boys,’
all but our Sunday coats. Then it
takes a lot of cooking to keep three or
four appetites going, and we don’t have
any help in the winter, usually.”
His listener conld scarcely keep in-
dignation from her tones as she replied:
“Is it possible that all this is added
to the work of the summer? Ido not
wonder that according to the statistics
a large proportion of the women con-
fined in lunatic asylums are farmers’
wives. Itisa dreary life, making a
woman into a perfect drudge.”
«Well, I don’t know,” the farmer
answered, musingly, “we must earn
our bread by the sweat of our brow.
The Bible says that work’s good for us.
I guess it is, and a wise provision of
Providence. I don’t know’s it’s any
worse for women than it is for men.”
“But it seems to me that the lot of
the farmer's wife is less desirable than
that of her husband. According to
your own account she has less leisure,
and then he seems to have more varie-
ty in his work, and itis relieved by
small pleasures. In summer it is
mostly out of doors ; then he jumps in-
to his wagon and is off to town two or
three times a week on errands; and
his neighbor often happens along and
leans on the fence and talks. At noon
he takes a nap in his chair or reads
his paper a few minutes, but according
to my obseryation a farmer’s wife is a
drudge. She seems to have no time
for these little rest places, and the con-
sequence is, all is dreary and monoto-
nous. It is no wonder she loses her
mind and has paralysis ; for her work
is never dove.”
Deacon Bates sat silent a minute
while he stroked the gray stubble on
his chin, then he said slowly :
“I d'no ; may be it’s so. I never
thought about it just that way.”
Mrs. Bates come around the corner
of the house just then, and took down
gome clothes from the line in the side
yard, Her husband watched her me-
chavically as she folded and placed
them in the basket,
“Your wife is a marvel to me, ac:
complishing all she does.” Mre.
Bradley said as she watched her ; “but
ghe looks worn ; she will break down
some day suddenly, I fear. It would
make a wonderful difference in this
house to have her busy hands and feet
still forever, wouldn’c it ?”
The deacon turned and looked at
Mrs. Bradley half wildly, as if such a
thing had never crossed his mind.
Then he got up, strode over to the line
just as his wife was about to lift the
basket of clothes, and taking it from
her carried it into the house. She fol-
lowed, amazed.
Not since the first years of their
married life had “Dan’l” offered to do
| 80Y of her work. What had come
over him?
of
to
When Deacon Bates had anything
special on his mind he was wont to be-
take himself to the orchard. He went
there now and sat down on a low,
goarled limb, and leaning his bead
against a tree, tried to think over the
tormenting words Mrs. Bradley had
just spoken. They netted him. He
told himself she ought to mind her own
business. But after all he had himeelf
to blame. By his confession his wife
was a hard working woman. It was
too humiliating! He bad prided him-
self on being kind to animals and con-
giderate toward help. Was it possible
he had been cruel to his own wife ? It
must look so, or a good woman like
Mrs. Bradley would not have spoken
as she did.
The deacon was a good man. He
was not going to spare himself now
that his eves were getting wide open.
He went back over the years when he
first came to the farm. “Cynthy” was
young and bright. She used to talk
and laugh then. What had changed
her into the silent woman she now
was ?
“If her busy hands and feet should
be silent forever I” Whatawful words!
—He had no more calculated on any
change of that kind than that the old
eight-day clock which had ticked on
for forty years should suddenly leave
its place. And, then that dreadful
thought about the farmers’ wives be-
coming insane, He had read enough
to know that melancholy is one species
of insanity. What if that state should
be slowly coming on his wife, for cer-
tainly she grew more silent and sad
year by year.
It must be that she worked too hard
when he came to reckon it up and tell
over to Mrs. Bradley all the work she
did, summer and winter, it was more
than he had supposed. How could
she get any time for reading or going
out ?—And now that she thought of it,
she never went anywhere, except to
church and not always there, because
often she was too tired. How differ-
ent it used to be! Once she frequent
ly went to town with him, and they oc-
casionally took tea with a neighbor or
drove in to the sewing society.
But of late years work had been so
pressing that there had been no times
for going or inviting company. He
had just gone on buying more land
and more cows and employing more
men, so adding to her labor, while she
had but the one helper they used to
have when the farm was small. And
as if this was not enough, he had en-
couraged her to go on taking summer
boarders occasionally, as she herself
had suggested long ago, one year when
the crops had failed. And he pretend-
ed to think she did it all because she
loved work so much. That was all
stuff | He had seen her stand in the
door and look after him when he rode
off to town on a pleasant afternoon,
and he had heard something like a
sigh just as he started. The dear, pa-
tient woman had not complained or
said sharp words ; he wished she had,
then maybe her pig headed husband
might have seen things as they were.
The truth was, the love of money had
taken possession of him aud he had
sacrificed everything. He had not
even hinted to his wife that she must
spare herself, and be had forgotten to
speak a word of praise.
He bated himself! For although
he had been mean, selfish and grasp-
ing, he still loved the wife of his youth,
What would all the money and land
he had scraped together be to him
when he had laid her in the old bury-
ing sround? The sturdy farmer, as he
sat there thinking these sharp truths
in the gathering shadows, realized for
a moment the desolation ot going on
without her. He bowed his head and
prayed with all his soul that be might
be forgiven, and that he and his wife
might go together hand in hand down
the hill that leads out of this life to
life eternal.
The darkness had settled down when
Deacon Bates got up and went into
the house. He had gone over every-
thing, had reconstructed affairs on a
new basis and made several plans.
He would have no difficulty in carry-
ing them out, for his word bad ever
been law in his own house. If he had
suggested anything it must be dove,
and this not on account of tyranny,
but because of the old-fashioned rever-
ence for her husband as head of the
family which Mrs. Bates had always
maintained, and instilled into the
minds of her children. “Father knows
best,” was her unyaryiog decision.
It was not like Deacon Bates to say
much about his good resolutions, but
to proceed to put them in practice as
rapidly as possible. There was no
light in the sitting room which be en-
tered but that of the moon which
streamed in at the long window. He
thought the room was empty till he
caught sight ot his wife asleep in her
chair. Her wild, pale face upturned
in the white light sent a pang through
the self-convicted man. He went over
to her and laying his hand on her head
said,—
_ “Come mother, vou better not wait
up for the boye, I'd go right to bed if
I were you.”
He continued to smooth her hair as
he said it, and Mre. Bates presently
sat up straight and wondering. It was
long since her husband had lost the
habit of bestowing little endearments ;
he used often to do this very thing in
other days.
“Was Daniel going to die?’
The next morning soon after break-
fast, Mr. Bates went away in his
gpring wagon, returning in the space
of two hours with the strong, capable
girl who assisted them on extra occa:
sions, announcing to his wife that
Sophia Mills had come to stay till the
“heft of the summer's work’ was over,
“gnd mind you keep her busy,” he
told the astonished woman, “and you
get some time to rest.”
In the afternoon Mr. Bates drove to
town, and as Mrs, Bradley had the
day before said she wished to match
some worsteds, he took her along, tak-
ing occasion to say as they were well
on their way :
“I'm much obliged to you, Mrs.
Bradley, for giving me a hint about
my wife, last night. [ have been |
blind and dumb as an old bat. Bat |
‘nough eaid. Things'll be different. |
Now 1 want to ask another favor. I
wish you’d pick outa dress for my
wife—a nice one that'll do for best.
I'm going to take her out West to see |
her sister when the crops are all in,
She don’t know a word about it yet.”
Mrs. Bradley was delighted ; she
just would be glad to help. What
would he like ?
“Oh, you must settle that; some-
thing sort of ladylike ; black I guess;
and get some of that soft white stuff
such as you wear, to go round her
peck, and some ribbons and all the
trimmins.”
A more dazed woman than Mrs.
Bates could not be found, when her
husband, that] night, after every one
else had gone to bed, presented her
with a roll of handsome black cash-
mere. ;
“And Cynthy,” he said ‘you must
have it made up nice like Mrs. Brad-
ley’s, with some ribbon a flutterin’ in
the wind.”
“What's the matter with you,
Dan’l?” his wife asked anxiously.
“Whatever does all this mean ?”
“It mean, little woman, that I've
been an old brute. I've let you slave
yourself ‘most to death with not a mite
of fun thrown in. Now it's going to
be stopped. I'm going to care for you
the rest of the way. What would you
say now to takin’ a trip out West next
month to see your sister Hannah ?”
It was too much. Mrs. Bates could
ohly ery and cry as if she would never
stop, while her husband murmured as
he stroked her hair,—
“Women are curious. I looked for
you to laugh instead of cry, Cynthy.”
TC ———"
Sandow’s Romance.
The Strong Man Marries the Young English La-
dy Whom He Saved from a Runaway Horse.
Sandow the professional strong man
was married lately in Manchester to
Miss Blanche Brooks, the daughter
of a Manchester photographer. San-
dow and Miss Brooks met four years
ago and had been engaged for some
time. Miss Brooks returned only a
few weeks ago from Germany where
she had been studying the language.
The story of Sandow, the strong
man, met Miss Blanche Brooks, the
young Eoglish lady to whom he was
married, is a romantic one. While
Sandow was performing at the Crystal
Palace in London some four years ago,
the platform on which he was support-
ing horses on his breast broke, and it
was only his presence of mind that
saved him from being crushed to death.
As it was, he escaped unhurt, and
crowds of people pushed forward to
shake hands with him and congratu-
late him. In the midst of this excite-
meat a lady, who was sitting in a box,
threw him a bunch of violets. A few
months later a runaway truck horse
came near rushing into a coupe occu-
pied by a lady. Sandow, who chanced
to be passing, saw the davger, and by
his great strength succeeded in divert-
ing the course of the runaway horze,
and so saved the life of the young lady.
She proved to be the same who had
thrown him the bunch of violets, and
Sandow now learned that her name
was Mies Blanche Brooks. And now
they are married.
A Conundrum Supper.
A conundrum supper is one of the
latest devices for raising money and
spending an enjoyable evening. A
menu in which obscure terms hide the
names of the edibles is presented to
each guest, who makes as good a se-
lection as possible under the circum-
stances. He is quite likely to be
gerved with cucumbers and tooth picks
as anything else, unless he proves a
good “interpreter. A sample meou is
as follows :
Turk’s Delight, Cereal Compound,
A Mixture by Competent Cooks, Mur-
phy Clothed, The Origin of the Afri-
can Race, Belated Sister's Comfort,
Fruit of the Vine, A Tear Producer,
Chips of the Old Block, An Eastern
Relish, How a Goat Will Greet a Girl,
A Spring Offering, A Dyspeptic's Hor-
ror, The Opposite of Fair, A Hint of
the Lower Regions, A Golden Offering,
Round and Light, Natives of the Pa-
cific, Suspended Feline.
—— ——— ACT
Hundreds in a Burning Mine.
WARsAW, August 11.—The extensive
coal mines near Dombrova, government
Brodno, have been burning since yester-
day afternoon. The fire was started by
an explosion of gas when the full force
of men was underground. The main
shaft was wrecked, and comparatively
fow miners have been rescued. The
latest report is that several hundred
men are entombed in the mines, and
that all hope of saving them has been
abandoned. The miners are owned by
the Franco-Italian bank.
Caused bya Scarcity of Water.
LaNcasTER, Pa., August 12.—All
the electric cars ot the Pennsylvania
Traction company were compelled to
stop running this afternoon owing to
the exhaustion of the water supply. A
new section is being placed in the
main feed pipe from the pumping sta-
tion to the reservoirs, which, it is ex-
pected, will be completed to-night.
In the meantime, the city is without
water, although the reservoir, full of
water is held in reserve in the event of
fire.
I ——————————————
Breeches, Trousers and Pantaloons.
The words breeches, trousers and
pantaloons are now used interchangea.
bly, but originally the signification
was quite different. Pantaloons were
at first nothing but long stockings,
worn in Lialy as a sort of religious
habit by the devotees of Saint Panta.
loon. Breeches originally reached
from the waist half way to the knee,
and finally to the knees, where they
Making of Opium. |
In the manufacture of opium in|
America the Turkish crude opium is’
used entirely. That used at Victoria
and Hong Kong is an Indian article
of “cooking” is very simple. The
crude, which resembles a piece of dirty '
soap, is fivst dissolved in lukewarm wa-
ter. The water takes on a very dark
brown color. The water is then boiled
cleaned and strained, divided off and re- |
boiled until the stuff begins to thicken.
After this the process must be watched
very carefully to prevent the mixture
from burning. The boiling is continued |
over a steady fire, at tremendous heat,
and at last the opium is reduced to the
consistency of thick coal tar. It is then |
placed in small brass boxes, hermetical-,
ly sealed, and is ready for use. ;
A conservative estimate of an un-;
doubted authority places the number of |
cans of opium annually smuggled into
San Francisco alone from Victoria, B. |
C., at between 4,000 and 5,000 cans. |
There are also large quantities landed |
straight trom Hong Kong, and much |
comes across the Mexican border. The |
incentive to smuggle, with the duty at |
$12 a pound, is a strong one.
The quantity of opium coming into |
the United States legitimately and il-
legitimately is appalling. White men |
and women every day fall victims to |
the seductive influence of the dreadful |
habit, which is daily growing and fast- |
ening its tearful shape upon the poorer
population. There is but one way to |
stop it all. The laws should be amend- |
ed to most rigid strictness. There |
should be a prohibitive duty placed up- |
on all opium ; punishment for smug- |
gling should be made most severe, and
then the world that cares for reformation
should encourage the officers whose ar-
duous duty it is to enforce the regula-
tions.
A ST
The Sacred Bo Tree.
One of the Most Wonderful Natural Growths
Ever Known to the World.
In October 1887, the sacred bo tree,
at that time supposed to be the oldest
living vegetable monument on the
earth’s surface, was uprooted and des-
troyed by a cyclone which swept over
the island of Ceylon. The oldest writ-
ten description of the sacred bo tree now
in existence is that by the celebrated
Chinese historian Fa Hian, who visited
the island and the sacred tree in the
year 414 A. D. According to this
learned Chinaman, the tree was at that
time 702 years old, having been planted
in the year 288 before our era by King
Deviniyiatissa.
As soon as it was known throughout
the island that the tres had been destroy-
ed by the fury of the elements great
crowds of mourners gathered around its
“sacred remains” and held regular fun-
eral services for two or three weeks. Af-
ter the season of mourning was over the
tree was cut into proper lengths, each
piece wrapped separately in white cloth
and cremated with the same funeral
rites which would have been given a
member of the royal family.
So perished the sacred bo tree, one of
the most wonderful natural growths
known to the world —a tree which had
been worshiped daily, one might almost
say hourly, for 2,175 years, and under
the shadows of its branches perhaps
heathenish rites had been enacted ex-
ceeding in solemnity anything known
to the tree worshipess of either ancient
or modern times.—S¢, Louis Republic.
BS HI
Important to Sheep Owners.
An important decision upon the sheep
law of 1893 was handed down by the
court of common pleas of Huntingdon
county on Friday. In April of the pre-
sent year Miles Guerney, a Cass town-
ship farmer, notified the township jus-
tice that in June, 1893, dogs had de-
stroyed a number of his sheep. The jus-
tice notified the auditors, who assessed
the damages at $21. The county com-
missioners refused to pay it because
Guerney had neglected to report his loss
for more than nine months. Guerny
then asked the court for a mandamus
to compel the commissioners to pay the
damages. The court, in a lengthy
opinion. refused to issue the mandamus
on the ground that Guerney should
have promptly notified the township
officers of bis loss, and held that while a
statute does not limit the time for &
thing required to be done, it must be
done within a reasonable time.
Rubber.
The best grades of rubber come from
the banks of the river Amazon, and we
might say the supply is unlimited, but
the climate is unhealthy, and this adds
to the cost. The very best in turn
comes from the rivers Puarus and Ma-
deira, tributaries of the Amazon, and
these sorts are used for surgical goods.
They are very fine grades, and wkile
their cost is only 2 or 8 cents more per
‘pound in the New York market still, if
the demand should increase, there would
be a greater difference. The Para
grades are good enough for all ordinary
pzrposes. The term Para comes from a
large city at the mouth of the Amazon,
in telegraphic communication with the
whole world, and reports from there re-
ceived daily govern the rubber markets
of every nation.
—— A man by the name of Corn was
married at Richfield, Ill., to a lady
by the name of Wheat. The
choir sang “What Shall the Harvest
Be?’ A boy in the gallery yelled
“nubbins,” and they sent him out of the
synagogue.
— The longest continuous land line
of telegraph in the world is across the
continent.
—— Raleigh, N. C., is the Oak City,
from the nature of most of its trees.
——St. Paul is the North State City
and Minneapolis the Flour City.
—The mouth of the star fish is ex-
actly in the center.
—— If you want printing of any de
were fastened with a buckle. Trousers
are the present style of leg gear, a
combination of the former two. !
seripton the WarcEMAN office is the
place to have it done.
For and About Women.
The Republizan nominee for State
Superintendent of Public Schools of
North Dakota, Miss Emma M. Bates, is
conceded to be theshrewdest politician in
the State. She secured the withdrawal
of her leading competitor for the nomi-
nation by ageeing to marry him, and to
make him her deputy’ and he. in turn, is
| to stump the State in her behalf.
Among the gowns most remarked for
style are those of pique. Pique being
thick can be designed with special re-
gard to form, whereas thin materials
i must be designed for soft grace and
rich masses of broken light and shade
and color. Pique has a quality unique
‘among summer fabrics; it stays put,
and it is in form that style largely con-
sists. For this reason it has been seized
on by very chic women and produces a
sensation wherever it appears. The
| same remarks apply to the moire silks
spoken of above, which are made up
plain and are valued for form. Such
materials are dangerous in ignorant
hands and may result only in a warm,
uncomfortable dress ; but perfectly cut
and worn at the cool seashore they are
admirable.
The skirt is round and clears the
ground, in very full godets, the back at
the top arranged ininch and a half deep
gauges, sloped and gusset covered, so
that each godet stands out complete
from top to bottom ; the bodice in box
plaits, or plain with an overshadowing,
flaring shoulder collar; and gigot
sleeves let in the armhole 1n plaits. The
color is oftenest white, pale or deep yel-
low, or ecru. Hair line stripes are on
some of them, but they hardly add to
the effect.
“To be as good looking as possible and
to be physically well one must, in gen-
eral be happy,” isone of the tenents of
a gospel of health recently preached by
an authority. Another, a French-
woman, goes even further and forbids
weeping, sulking and getting angry as
foes to beauty and inviters of wrinkles
and disfiguring lines in the face. Van-
ity undoubtedly impels much of the en-
thusiasm over hygienic matters among
women, but one can forgive the cause
in the advantageous effects. Habits
strike in. A woman who finds it is not
good form to get in a rage watches her-
selt that she does not at least betray that
she is in one, and presently the calm
expression in reflex action begets a calm
spirit.
The sash is an ipstitution by itself,
and the young woman of means invests
in one almost every times she goes shop-
ping. Sashes are in styles, from stift
moire ribbon to soft silk, depending
largely on the dresses with which they
are worn.
The hotter the weather the simpler
the gowns become. Dainty lawns made
with belted-in round waists and skirts
full from the waist bands with rufile set
on at the knee to reach to the hem, are
always in good taste. For trimming,
insertion ot narrow black lace on the
bodice, a tiny edge of lace on the rufiles
and a black ribbon belt with a great
flared bow at the waist line in the black
suffices. But no matter how warm the
day an occasional dress is seen in which
black 1s freely used.
—
The Prohibitionists of Nebraska have
nominated a woman, Mrs. Belle G.
Bigelow, of Lincoln, for Lieutenant
Governor of the State. Two others of
their nominees for the eight places on
the State ticket are women, Mrs. Oc-
tavia H. Jones, of Hastings, being
named for Secretary of State, and Mrs.
F. Bernice Kerney, of Plattsmouth, for
Superintendent of Public Instruction.
«What extraordinary capers these fe-
males are upto nowadays | If you be-
lieve me, I got a notice from a commit-
tee of them, requesting me and all the
adult members’ of my ‘household’ te
call somewhere to sign a petition to
strike out of our state constitution the
word male as a qualification for voters.
Now I haven’t any hosuehold ; but if T
had, why shouldn’t they ask my babies
as well as my adults, if the thing isto
put everybody on the same footing ?
Last year it was etreet-cleaning. All
the pretty women went at you at din-
ners, and asked if you had influence
with various ‘bosses’ whom they ‘long-
ed’ to know. Well, they accomplished
then what they set out to do those
charming creatures, I must confess ; but
why can’t they rest on those laurels?
The year before it was the abolition of
ash-barrels. You couldn’t open your
mouth to a girl at a party without hav-
ing an ash-barrel thrown into it!
They've had their dab at city politics ;
and as the Higher Education of Women,
the University Settlement, and the
Kindergarten Association, those we
have always with us--and we are al-
lowed to buy tickets, or send checks for
boxes for their entertainments to an al-
most unlimited extent !”’——-M7rs. Burton
Harrieon.
Large fancy buckles are conspicuous
in many fashionable gowns, and porce-
lain buckles are quite the latest fad.
The porcelain comes in all the choice
ware. exquisitely colored, painted and
gilded. A line of goods very much
like the material of ordinary dinner-
ware is shown, and from its blue-white
and tragility it has charm. Buckles of
this material take silver or gold prongs.
Ivory is also much used, and a vogue is
gaining grouna for mother-of-pearl.
A gown of pale yellow pique has
medallions of embroidery set in at in-
tervals round the skirt over-decp yellow;
the bodice has a wide box plait down
back and front, and a wide epaulette
laid over each shoulder extending out
over the sleeve, with a medallion set
in each end over deep yellow, one in
tront and one behind neckband and
belt of deep yellow satin.
Plain, quiet-colored fabrics in tailor
styles, which yet have sufficient variety
in their form to render them becoming
to every figure, are the rule for street
wear and traveling. The skirts are ab-
solutely plain. The coats are long or
short, fuil or slightly flared, single or
double-breasted, or flare away from a
waistcoat in front, buttoning only on
the bust or at the waist linc.