Democratic watchman. (Bellefonte, Pa.) 1855-1940, August 17, 1894, Image 2
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.