saved me!
Bellefonte, Pa., Sept. 28, 1894.
r—
THE TELEGRAM.
“Ig this the telegram office ?”
Asked a childish voice one day,
As I noted the click of my instrument,
With its message from far away.
As it ceased, I turned ; at my elbow
Stood the merest scrap a boy.
Whose childish face was all aglow
With the light of a hidden joy
The golden curls on his forehead
Shaded eyes of the deepest blue,
Asif a bit of the summer sky
Had lost in them its hue.
They scanned my office rapidly,
From ceiling down to floor,
Then turned.ea me their eager gaze,
As he asked the question o'er.
“Is this the telegram office ?”
“It is, my little man,”
I said. “Pray tell me what you want,
And I'll helpyou if I can.”
Then the biue eyes grew more eager,
And the breath came thick and fast;
And I saw within the chubby hands
A folded paper grasped.
«Nurse told me,” he said, “that the lightnicg
Came down on the wires some day ;
And my mamma has gone to heaven,
And I'm lonely since she's away ;
For my papa is very busy,
And hasn't mueh time for me,
So I thought I'd write her a letter,
And I’ve brought it for you to see.
“I've printed it big, so the angels
Could read out. quick her name
And carry it straight to my mamma,
And tell her how it came;
And now, won’t you please to take it,
And throw it up good and strong
Against the wires in a funder shower,
And the lightning will take it along.”
Ah! what could I tell the darling?
For my eyes were filling fast;
I turned away to hide my tears,
But I cheerfully spoke at last.
“I'll do the best I can, my child,”
sTwas all that I could say,
“Thank you,” he said, then scanned the sky,
“Do you think it will funder to-day ?”
But the blue sky smiled in answer,
And the sun shone dazzling bright ;
And his face, as he slowly turned away,
Lost some of its gladsome light.
“But nurse,” he said, “if I stay so long,
Won't let me come any more ; I
So goo-bye ; I'll come and see you again,
Right after a fander shower.”
— Ashton Reporter.
TO STO
BER NEW SITUATION.
By Losing One Place She Got Another and Was
Made Happy.
“Dear me,” said Mrs, Pell; “what
is the matter with Carrie?’ Ain’t
sick, is she 2”
Mrs. Pell had come up to her lodg-
er's room to borrow a dust-pan. Lite
among the poor—tenement-house life,
al least—is all give and take; and
Mrs. Pell borrowed dust-pan and egg-
beaters, just as Mrs. De Rifter, of up-
per Fifth avenue, would borrow a
piece of music, or Miss Waldergrave
the last new novel.
The Beltous had only lately come
to the house. They were very poor,
yet Mrs. Pell somehow respected an
intangible essence of ladyhood that
hovered about them. They had no
carpet on the floor, yet it was always
clean; the curtains were made of
‘cheesecloth’ at four cents a yard ;
the bed on which the mother and
daughter slept assumed the similitude
of a stained pier-wardrobe by day.
The cooking was done on a kerosene
stove in the corner, and Mrs. Pell dis-
covered that Mrs. Belton did floss-silk
embroidery on flannel for infants’
wardrobes, while Carrie was one of
the attendants in Muller & Cos dry
goods store on Broadway.
“I knowed they was genteel,” said
Mrs. Pell, *‘the minute I set eyes on
em. Mrs. Belton’s dress is shabby,
and Mrs. Hourie, the grocer’s wife, on
the first floor, wears hers somehow dif-
ferent; and Carrie's bonnet is plain
black straw, with loops of green rib-
bon, but it's a great deal more ladyfied
than Susan Jane Hawley's pink crape,
with the red feathers and the Rhine-
stone daggers stuck in it.”
But to-day Carrie was crying, and
Mrs. Belton with her floss-silk em-
broidery pushed to one side, was try-
ing to comfort her.
“No,” said Mrs. Belton, “she ien’t
sick, but—"'
“I’m discharged,” said Carrie, sud
denly, straightening berself up. “I’ve
lost my place. One of the customers
brought a point-lace handkerchief to
the store to match it in flounces, and
she couldn’t find it afterward, and—"
“I know,” said Mrs. Pell, “I had a
niece once In one 'o them big stores,
and you can’t teach me much about
em. The gals is sacrificed right
straight along to the customers’ whims.
It was laid to you, of course.”
“And | may consider myself lucky,
they tell me,” cried our indignant Car-
rie, “that I am not arrested and put in
prison. Ouly ‘previous good conduct’
But I consider that I have
been insulted and aggrieved. I—"
© MCarrie! Carrie!” gently soothed
the mother. Aud Carrie's passionate
words died away in a flood of tears.
“But what are we to do?" she cried,
“How are we to live? No one will
take me in after this. It would be no
use for me to try and get a situation.
“God will provide, Carrie,” whis
pered Mrs. Belton.
At that moment there came a sharp
tap at the door.
“Is the young lady ready for the
place out in Orange county ?" asked a
gruff voice. “Mr. Jessup’s wagon is
at thedoor. That's me. And he’s a
waiting.”
“La me!” said Mrs. Pell, starting
up. “I clean forgot all about it.
Name of Jessup? Louisa Olcott,
she’s dreadful sorry, but her uncle
ain't willing, on sober second thoughts
to let her go out of the city. They've
gone to Coney Island and—"
“Ain't that the young woman?”
said Mr. Jessup, nodding his head to-
ward Carrie Belton as he stood in the
doorway.
“Certainly not,” siid Mrs. Pell,
bristling up. “This is the floor above
the Olcott rooms.”
“No oftense, ns, offens: 1” said Mr.
Jessup. “But what be I going to do?
My wife calculatzd on my bringing
“home hired help, and I dunno nothing
about your intelligence offices, Aad
the train goes at 11.”
“What sort of a place is it?’ asked
Carrie, suddenly turning around.
“Gineral housework,” said the old
farmer, leaning agaiost the side of the
door. “A little of everything. Sort
of handy woman about the place.
Jest exactly the sort of work our dar-
ter would have done if she'd lived to
grow up. Four dollars a week and a
good home. I dunno what you think
of it, but it seems to me a pretty fair
offer.”
“Mother,” said Carrie breathlessly.
“J have a great mind to go, if—if Mr.
Jessup will take me.”
“And glad of the chance,” said the
old farmer, cheerfully.
“I don’t know much about housa-
work,” went on Carrie.
“My woman'll teach you,” said the
farmer. “She'd be doing it herself it
| it wasn't for the rheumatism in her
back. And you look like one who
would be quick and active to learn.”
“And I know all about her,” said
Mrs. Pell ; “and I tell you, Mr. Jessup
she’s a good, trustworthy girl as ever
lived.”
“] could jedge as much as that by
her looks,” said Mr. Jessup. shrewdly.
So Carrie Belton steered her little
life-bark into this new current. #
She had been a week at the Jessup
farm before she wrote home to her
mother.
“Dear Morner :—I am the bappi-
est girl in the world. This is a lovely
place—all apple orchards and mead-
ows knee-deep in red clover and timo-
thy grass. I help to milk the cows
every night, and the lambs and chick-
ens know me already. Mrs, Jessup is
the kindest old lady you ever knew!
All she is afraid of is that I will do too
much. Frank—that is her nephew,
who lives here and helps Mr. Jessup
with the farm—brings in all the wood
and water, and is always asking what
he cau doto help me. I suppose I
ought not to call him ‘Frank,’ but
every one does, and go it seems natu-
ral. All that troubles me mother,’ is
to be separated from you, and I have
such a delightful plan. It was Frank
that first thought of it, and Mr. and
Mrs. Jessup do not object. There is
one wing of the old farmhouse that is
used only for a storeplace—two de-
lightful rooms with a great fireplace
big enough for a whole colony, and
windows looking out on the river.
They are a little out of repair, to be
sure, but I can easily whitewash and
repair, them, with Frank's help, and
you are to come up and live there.
And all the rent Mrs. Jessup will ac-
cept is a little dressmaking now and
then—such as you are handy with—
for her poor old finger joints are stift-
ened with rheumatism, aod she can-
vot hold a needle. And you can go
into the city with your embroidery
every week or two ; the fare is not so
very much, and you can breathe in
the smell of the new mown hay and
gather wild flowers and sweet briar.
And oh, mother darling, we shall be
80 happy!”
Mrs, Belton read the letter through
tears of delight.
“It will be like heaver,” she said to
herself. “My dear, thoughtful child!
But I wonder who this ‘Frank’ is. I
wonder if she knows how often her
thoughts and her pen turn to him?
He must be good if he is with these
kind people”
She went out to the old farm. Car-
rie met her at the station in a wagon,
with a handsome, sunbrowaed young
man holding the reins.
“This is Frank Jessup, mother!”
she said, with a radiant face.
The two rooms were in perfect order.
A bunch of roses stcod on the bureau,
and summer evening though it was, a
fire of logs burned within the deep,
smoke-blackened chasms of the an-
cient chimney, casting red reflections
on the newly papered walls—‘for fear
it should be damp,’ said Carrie.
And the first real home feeling
which they had kaown for years came,
like the brooding wings of a dove,
oyer the hearts of mother and daugh-
ter, as they sat side by side on the
doorstep under the green apple boughs
and the sound of a brook gurgled
along beneath the willows beyond.
* * * * *
The blackberries on the edge were
ripening ; the roses had blown away,
drifts of pink, aud the early apples
were beginning to gleam like spheres
of gold through the leaves, when Car-
rie came into the wing room’ one eve-
ning with a pale face.
“Mother,” said she, “I must go
away from here. You must go with
me.” :
“Carrie!”
“Frank Jessup has asked me to be
his wife.”
“I thought he would, Carrie; I
knew that he loved you,” said Mrs.
Belton with innocent pride. “And no
wonder !”’
“I told him about the lace handker-
chief that they accused me of steal
ing!” whispered the girl.
“What did he say, Carrie ?"
“He said he did not care—he want.
ed me all the same.”
“And you ?”
“Mother, I told him I never could
let the cloud which has darkened my
owa life overshadow his.”
“Bat Carrie, if he loves you"'—
“All the more reason that I should
ys him this humiliation, eaid the
girl.
And when Mrs. Belton looked at her
set face she knew that all remonstrance
was in vain. .
“We must go away,” said Carrie
“Tt will be like tearing the heart out of
wy breast, but there is only one thing
to do.” And she burst into sobs and
tears on her mother’s shoulder.
“Hush I" said Mrs. Belton, “hush
my darlinz! Some one is coming up
the walk! It is a woman with a
shawl and a green parasol and an ecru
dress trimmed with garnet bands.
Why, Carrie, it is Mrs. Pell, our old
landlady I”
“Yes, its me,” said the landlady of
the Judith street tenement house.
‘ “How de do? Surprised to see me,
, ain't ye? Well if this 'ere ain’t a
pretty place! Bat I sort o’ felt as if I
had to come. Muller's shop-walker
he was to the house yesterday. The
firm sent for him. They are short ’o
hands, and they want Carrie to come
to the lace counter again. The lace
handkerchief that made all the trouble
ig found. The dressmaker found it
down in the folds of the young lady's
apron skirt when she ripped it apart
last week. It had slipped down into
the linin’,: and there it lay. The
young lady’s dreadful sorry about it,
too!"
Carrie's face’ had grown: bright.
“Found, is it ?” she said. “Mother,
give Mrs. Pell a cup of tea. Don’t
you see how tired she looks? I will
go back to where Frank is waiting for
me. I—I think this will be good
news for him.”
Mrs. Pell stayed all night and went
back to the city with a monster
bunch of pinks and roses next day,
but Miss Belton did not go back to the
lace counter at Muller & Co's.
Mrs. Pell dryly informed the shop-
walker that she believed the young
lady had accepted another engage-
ment, .
OA SHAABAN
Trapping the Terrapin.
The Demand Has Sent the Price From $6 to
$70 a Dozen.—A Dainty Dish of Diamond
Backs.— The Aristocratic Easily Distinguished
by a Connoisseur.— Cooking as Important as
Catching.
The American people, who above
all others know what good living is
and how to appreciate it, were un-
doubtedly the principal medium of
introducing to the world “Misyah
Taarpin,” as the colored people love
to call him, and who smack their lips
as the name passes through. Terra.
pin is now well known all over the
civilized world, and the terrapin of the
United States has been unhesitatingly
awarded the palm for delicacy and
general excellence.
Every one knows the terrapin by sight
but it is safe to say that there are
scores who are not acquainted with its
cultivation or habits, for that is a trade
gecret that the farmers are chary of
talking abont to outsiders. The lar-
gest and most important farm in the
Chesapeake district is on the Patuxent,
and consists of a salt water lake, which
has been surrounded by a broad fence
to keep out the muskrats and foxes,
these being the chief enemies of the
terrapin. With this exception, they
appear to need little care other than
duly feeding them at fattening time;
but what they do rot require in care
they make up in trouble of capturing,
for they are as wily as woodchacks,
and that is saying a good deal. Forty
years ago they were as plentiful in the
waters of Carolina, Maryland and Vir-
ginia as the European soldier said flees
were in Spain, and they were in those
days principally taken in oyster dredg-
es, the first really large catch being
credited to John Ethridge, of Body’s
Island, who in ten days’ fishing caught
over 2,000 terrapin and sold them in
Norfolk market for about $400.
EXTIRPATION OF THE WILD TERRAPIN.
This was the birth of the terrapin
industry, for he immediately returned
to the spot dredged out 2,000 more and
sold them in Baltimore for $350.
These sales became known and the ex-
tirpation of the wild terrapin com-
menced, > many being obtained that
for some winters they were sold at
Southera points for $2 a dozen. Oh
the sin of it! In those days the terra-
pin ran in schools of several hundred,
but the constant chasing soon broke
these up, and it was not long before
the deep water oyster dredges ceased
to bring up a paying quantity. Then
it was found that the chelonia sought
shallow waters as the weather became
cold, and a number of improvements
on the oyster dredge proper soon came
into use, and eventually artificial prop-
agation, or farming, came into vogue
as a stable industry.
Still there is quite a good deal of
outside hunting done, and there is no
better fun in the summer than to ac-
company a good terrapin hunter who
knows his ground and is fairly sure to
make a respectable bag. Some of
these men do not commence operations
until the fall. They then dig long,
shallow ditches on the flats, and
when the tide gets low they patiently
scratch the bottom with thornes or
rakes until it is all covered with a
creamlike mud or paste. When the
tide comes in it does not stay long nor
does it bring many terrapin, but it
brings a few, and it stays long enough
to let the terrapin find the soft bottom
and understand that they have strack
a “soft snap ;” in other words, a grod
place for them to burrow and spend
the winter in. Each succeeding tide
brings more, the mud is kept soft be-
tween times, and 80 it is not long be-
fore the working hunter has got quite
a good nursery together. Then when
the winter comes along the hunter
goes down to his preserve with a hay-
fork an1 pushes it into the mud until it
strikes something, and 82 keen is his
sense of touch that he can tell in a
moment if it be a stone or a terrapin,
and if it be the latter he digs it out
and puts it in his basket.
DOGS USED TO HUNT THEM.
It is, however, in the summer that
the amateur terrapin hunter wants to
take his experimental trip, unless he is
a born eport and enjoys the cold and
dirt and discomforts as part of the pro-
gramme, and there are many who ap-
pear to do so. Inthe sammer the ter-
rapin around the Chesapeake Bay are
hunted with dogs, as partridges are
with a setter or pointer, and a good
“terrapin dog’ 1s worth $100, and
takes a grod six months to train.
They are very sagacious and appear to
thoroughly enjoy themselves. About
the time the chelonia leaves the water
to deposit its eggs, the dogs are
turned out to rang: along the water
edge until they strike the trail of a tur-
tle. A dog must be able to tell if it be
an old trail or a new one. If old he
must just sniff and pass along, like a
terrier at an old rabbit earth ; but if it
be an a fresh one, he must follow it up,
the terrapin.
it to hold it down, be barks until be at-
tracts his master to the spot to secure
it effectually and then starts off again.
A well-trained animal will catch 50 a
day, and these are then sold to pound
keepers unless the hunter has a pound
of hisown, where they are kept until
winter, and then recaught and sold.
It was this practice that first evolved
the practical farm method. This was
dae to the outcry raised by the fish
commissioners on acccunt of the num-
ber of pests destroyed and eggs ren-
dered useless. But notwithstanding
that the outcry established farms it
did not top the dog hunters, who are
in as strong force to-day as ever they
were.
It is a luscious morsel, and worthy
of all reverence, for be it known the
best preparers ot terrapin are artists ;
that even Delmonico’s dish is not sup-
posed to equal that of Augustine, of
Philadelphia, which costs $5 per quart
about enough for two people, supple-
mented with a “dry’’ and not too cold
“hottle.” The best variety is undoubt-
edly “Terrapin a la Maryland,” and
this is the mdst popular and best
known style. To make this, put a
handful of salt into a pot of boiling
water ; put in the terrapin and boil un-
til the skin slips off easily from the
claws ; take off the claws, skin, en-
trails and the sand bag; great care
must be taken in cutting the liver not
to break the gall ; the eggs and egg
bag are to be used. When picked,
put on the fire and add a little sherry
or Madeira (say half a teacupful for
three fair-sized terrapin), and putin a
good-sized piece of butter.
Beat up the yolks of four eggs with
flour to make a batter, and add a little
wine, then pour the sauce of the terra-
pin into the egg batter, put on the fire,
and add seasoning of cayenne and salt.
Let it stand a minute or two to cook
the flour, and add wine and butter, un-
til the proper taste is given. Experi
ence must do the rest, for there are no
other directions possible. After all,
perhaps it is better to buy the prepared
terrapin, and be sure to have it good
and all correct, for it is practically no
saving of cash to make it one’s self,
and one risks spoiling a dish fit for the
gode.
Twenty years ago terrapin in Wash.
ington cost $6 per dozen, and now ex-
tra fine ones often sell for that each.
Senator J. M. Clayton, of Delaware,
once bought a cartload for $1. After
the surrender of Yorktown, Washing-
ton, Lafayette and Cornwallis, sat
down to a supper of terrapin, believing
no doubt, that if anything could drive
away hard thoughts, and cement fu-
ture friendship, it was that same terra-
pin that our best judges of culinary ef-
forts are so fond of to-day, and for
which they are willing to pay such
steep prices to get the right thing.
—A. T. Vance.
A New ‘Offense,
The young woman who shocked the
high moral susceptibilities of the Broad-
way paraders the other evening, by
lighting her cigarette and smoking it in
the electric light of publicity, has pre-
cipitated a new moral issue on the me-
tropolis. The city which accepts Tam-
many polities with equanimity and
rather plumes itself on the pace of lite
in the Tenderloin precinct was horror-
stricken at the sight of a woman smok-
ing a cigarette on the street. One high-
ly moral journal lays down the principal
that ‘the laws should deal severe-
ly with her when she is caught.”
It does not seem to occur to these
censors of female manners that, before
the law can deal severely with a woman
for smoking on the streets, there must
be a law forbidding the obnoxious act.
Inasmuch as masculine smokers com-
mit the act without interference on the
streets of New York as on those of other
cities, it is presumed that there is no
such law. If the shocked moral sense
of New York should set the Legislature
to supplying that deficiency, reason
would be apt to raise the question what
there is about the nature of tobacco that
makes its public use entirely permissible
in men, but a shocking violation of good
orderin women. It is calculated to
puzzle the most astute moral philoso-
pher to show why man may smoke and
be respected and woman may not smoke
in public without falling into the
clutches of outraged propriety personi-
fied by the New Y ork police courts.
The peculiarity of the case is height-
ened by the fact that the same journals
which hold up horrified hands at the
sight of a woman smoking a cigarette
on Broadway have recently published
statements that cigarettes have become
really the correct thing in the boudoirs
of women of fashion. It is possible that
these reports were largely the product
of the imagination ; but after pointing
out the fashion is it not rather unreason-
able for our cotemporaries to rise up in
virtuous indignation at the one woman
who follows it ? Or is it the theory
that immorality consists entirely in be-
ing seen at it, and that which is awful
in public is all right if kept reasonably
secret.
We hape that the women of America
will not take to smoking either in pri-
vate or in pubiic, being restrained there -
from simply by their own preference.
But if Draconian law undertakes to
abridge the right of the sex to do that
which man may do undisputed, it will
be likely to drive the independent Am-
erican women into smoking as a nece:-
sary act of self-assertion.
Knew George Sand Well.
Colonel James Russell Lowell tells
the story that one of the gentlemen he
met in Chicago had a great deal to say
of his travels in Europe. Colonel Low-
ell remarked that he greatly enjoyed
the French literature and that George
Sand was one of his favorite authors.
“Oh, yes,” exclaimed the Chicago
gentleman, ‘I have had many a happy
hour with Sand.”
“You knaw George Sand, then?”
asked Colonel Lowell, with an expres-
sion of surprise.
“Knew him ?”’ Well, I should rather
say I did!” cried the Chicago man, and
then he added as a clincher, **I roomed
with him when I was in Paris.—Chica-
go Record. :
no matter where it leads, until he finds |
Then putting his foot on |
Killing Fish With Dynamite.
The Slaughter So Extensive in the Potomac That
It Is Alarming.
The amateur rod and line fisherman
are up in arms over the illegal fishing
in the upper Potomac, which threat-
ens to put an end to the sport.
The past season has been a very
unsuccessful one for the holders of the
rod and line, poorer than any previous
year, in fact. This is attributed to 1l-
legal fishing in the river, in violation
of the law of not only the District, but
of Maryland and Virginia. A regular
warfare has been inaugurated, and
from the way in which the fish are
now being taken from the river it will
not be long before fishing will be a
thing of the past.
The latest way of catching fish on a
large scale is with the aid of dyna-
mite. The men who make use of this
pursue their work as quietly as possi-
ble so as to escape detection. The
night time is best for their purpose, as
few people are likely to be around, out-
side of residents of the neighborhood.
A dynamite cartridge of good size is
lowered into the river until it strikes
the bottom. Connected with the car-
tridge is an electric wire, and as soon
as the bottom is struck the electrical
current is turned on and discharges
the cartridge. There is no concussion
or vibration felt on land, but in the
water the effect is wonderful, the con-
cussion being sufficient to kill all the
fish for 500 feet or more around. The
dead fish will rise to the surface, and
with large nets the men who have
charge ot the work dip them up and
fill the boat. All of the different spe-
cies of fish in the water are killed by
the concussion, from eels and catfish to
bass and rockfish.
The large number of fish which
come floating down the river causes
much wonderment along the wharves.
While there are plenty of catfish and
eels, there are not infrequently good
species of rock and black bass, which
would have delighted any amateur
fisherman who might have been suc-
cessful enough to land them, It is a
well known fact that the blasts at the
quarries on the upper Potomac oftea
kill a large number of fish but the
great quantity of fish which came
down the stream convinced the people
that all the fish were not killen at the
quarries.
A quiet investigation was begun,
which developed the fact that dyna-
mite was used. Some of the amateur
fisherman of Georgetown, who have
had extremely poor luck for several
weeks past, spent one entire night last
week investigating the matter. The
scene of the carnage and slaughter was
found to be within the district line,
and within 100 feet of the west side of
the Chain Bridge. Under cover of the
darkness the illegal fishermen steer
their boat in the swift water until near
the center of the stream, when they
begin the work of destruction. Many
of the fish killed in this manner find
their way to the city markets,
Words vs. Work.
General Hastings is now fairly em-
barked upon his campaign of spzech-
making and with his powerful voice
and pleasing platitudes he will for the
time arouse enthusiasm among the loy-
al Republicans, But he will accomplish
little except in the ranks of the dyed-in-
the-wool members of his party. The
people who give thought to political
and economic questions are not to be
carried away by vivid word pictures,
General Hastings will not be able to
persuade them that the McKin
ley tariff was an unmixed blessing and
that the new tariff is the root of wide-
spread desolation, for they see every-
where evidences of recovery from the
blighting effects of the high protective
tariff and they know this improvement
in trade must be ascribad to the Demo-
cratic tariff policy.
Appreciating this they will cast their
ballots for that early. aggressive and
consistent advocate of tariff reform,
Wm. Singerly. When others hesitated
he boldly declared himself and wielded
his great infinence against oppressive
taxation, never once retreating from the
advanced position he had taken. When
from every industry comes the promise
of increased activity as a result of the
adoption ot gariff reduction, the people
will feel that it were best to place at
the head of the government of this state
one who is, as he is, in sympathy with
the new revenue bill and will vote for
Mr. Singerly for governor.
There will not be the same amount of
speech-making or the same explosion of
fireworks during the next month by
Mr. Singerly and his friends as will
mark the route of the R:publican candi-
date, but there will be don? an immense
amount of thinking that will lead to the
support of the practical and successful
business man and tha patriotic citizen,
Wm. M. Singerly.— Valley Spirit.
It Was a Big Mistake.
“Many men have been taken for
somebody else of prominence, but I
doubt if any but myself can boast of
having been mistaken for the Angel
Gabriel,” said Senator Palmer to a re-
porter. ‘It was this way: While I
was Military Governor of Kentucky a
disturbance occurred in some town in
the interior, I was in another. There
was no train, no saddle horse, no buggy
nor carriage. The only sort of vehicle
available was a big zilded circus chariot
left by some stranded show company. I
didn’t like it, but there was nothing
else, and in I got. I cut a great dash
as I drove through the small town.
People turned out in droves to see me
pass. When I left the town behind
and reached the plantation the negroes
saw me and started with open mouths.
They followed me, keeping at some dis-
tance, for they had never seensuch a
splendid vehicie. They kept on until
after awhile they were joined by an old
white-haired preacher, who on seeing
me and my gilded chariot. raised his
arms on high, and his eyes, too, and
with a voice that stirred all within
hearing, cried
“Bress de Lord, de day ob judgment
am cum, an’ dis gen’l’man am de Angel
Gabriel hisself. Bredren, down on yo’
knees an’ pray, fo’ yo’ hour am byar.”
For and About Women.
The president of Taylor College
at Bryn Mawr, a woman, Miss Mary C.
Thomas, who has succeeded a man, Dr.
Rhoades, still occupies a fine stone
building at the place known as ‘The
Deanery,” and gives her ‘‘evenings’”’
there, to which she invites a select liter-
ary coterie. The college is under Quak-
er control, and Miss Thomas is the
daughter of a minister of the Society of
Friends, buat she is broad and catholic
in her tastes, and one of her most inti-
mate frinds, who frequently takes part
in ber literary-social meetings, is Miss
Agnes Repplier, who 1s a devoted mem-
ber of the Roman Catholic Church.
The seams in the skirts of cloth and
serge gowns are stitched once or twice
on each side, making two or four rows
stitching, or if ladies’ cloth is used, a
band of cloth an inch wide is stitched
over the seams. On black moire skiris
overlapping jet sequins are used in place
of stitching.
Thus far we have learned nothing de-
finite. Instead of five, you may put
seven gores in your skirt. You muy
stiffen it a little more, you may bh 1d
your organ pleats at the back of the
skirt in place by means of rubber bands,
you may trim your skirt with narrow
diagonal bands, you may draw it a little
more closely about the hips, and
spread it more at the feet, you may add a
few more inches to the already ample
fullness of your sleeve. Some of the mod-
els from Paris suggest trimmings both
above and below the waist line. A
sort of surplice effect on some, made
with a sash ; or a doublet of velvet en-
circling the body, standing in pleas,
above the waist up to the bust. Then,
below the belt, flat panier effect in long
narrow points. This is a step further,
it may be, in the direction of a widen-
ed waist; and the natural waist may be
tbe wrinkle before long.
Flat effects are ohservable in many of
the trimmings. Not only are skirts
trimmed with narrow diagonal bands,
but the seven gored skirt has each of its
seams strapped and stitched ; and of
course the coat bears the same finish.
Narrow jets, gallons and passementeries
are used ; but all are quiet and unob-
trusive. Large buttons are the only
marked feature of the trimming. They
catch revers, or fasten the double
breasted coat, or trim the flat bands on
the skirt.
The plain undraped skirt will be the
favorite this winter, as the overskirt has
not proved as popular as was expected,
there being very few modistes who
could manage the double arrangement
gracefully as the less complicated form.
Flat folds and bands are used preference
to fluffier trimmings,. but what the skirt
lacks in beruffled fullness the bodice
amply makes up in its extra dressiness,
as there is no ornamentation missing as
far as that is concerned. The sleeves
are not quite as large as formerly, but
make up for width in the matter of
greater length, coming down over the
knuckles frequently, and are therefore a
little larger at the wrists than tormerly
The double puff has been introduced in-
stead of a single one, and is really a
very pretty style if managed well.
Checked ribbons are going to be fea-
tures of this autumn’s millinery. If
you want to show that you know what
is what have a black hat with coques’
plumes and checked ribbon for your
knock-about headwear during October
and November.
Lady Somerset, the English temper-
ance reformer, is spending some time in
the Catskill Mountains. She means to
enter ber son, H. S. Somerset, this fall
as a student at Harvard Uuiversity.
If you have any old gloves with long
wrists just think before pitching them
into the waste basket, and cat off the
tops and save them for fancy work. The
kid can be easily cleaned and is capable
of being made into a number of pretty
articles. Several pieces of tan-colored
kid stitched together along the edges
will make a neat tobacco pouch. Run
a drawing-string of gilt cord through
the top, and paint or embroider an ini-
tial or device on the side. You have no
idea how pretty a thing it is when fin-
ished. An opera glass bag is another
thing which can be made from two
square pieces of undressed kid. Select a
heliotropa or lavender shade and paint
pansies or violets thereon. The ribbon
drawingstring shonld be the same color
as the flowers. Kid covers for small
books, kid hair-receivers and fan bags,
kid pictures frames, card cases, pin
trays and a host of other dainty articles
can be made from the despised glove
tops. This is surely the day of small
things.
Whosoever last spring had a tailor
gown with long-skirted coat and re-
vers turned back from a chemisette can
bring herselt very economically up to
date by lopping off the tails about a foot
all around and replacing the chemisette
by a vest of English cloth, black, pick-
ed out with wee dots in scarlet, blue and
white silk. Perhaps, too, the revers
might be faced with black moire and
the cloth sleeves replaced by larger ones
still of the silk, for tails are shorter in
proportion as sleeves grow steadily big-
ger. Skirts aro changing ever so slight-
ly. Only the conventional amount of
crinoline will be used in them, which is
to the knee, for tailors discovered that
the all interlining of crindline was
monstrously heavy. lost its stiffness af-
ter a while and that in any event alla
skirt needs to give it the proper flare is
width distributed from the knee down.
So the winter skirt is rather wider than
ever before, it is lined, not made on a
sham and bas on the inside edge one or
two narrow flat plaits or erimpled ruftes.
At the top it is finished by a binding in
place of a waist band, over the outside
of which is laid two or three close little
folds of silk or satin, ending in one or
two upstanding loops and ears or in a
couple of small flut rosettes.
Two demi season toilets, that bear a°
French stamp, are quite simple. The
gkirt of one has a novelty in the way of
a slight slash at each side of the front,
beginning in a point anil widening out
a very little as it descends. It has also
three rows of stiching at the bottom. Its
material is a grayish fawn covert, with
the slash showing dead white cloth be-
tween.