=== Bellefonte, Pa.,0ct. 5, 1894. no TO BE A BRAKEMAN. @ want to be a‘brakemsn, Dog gone'! Legs hangin’ over the edge of a flat car ; Train goin’ *bout twenty-five mil’n hour ; Kickin’ the dog:fennel “long the track— That's what a brakeman does. 2 Raat be a brakeman, Sie ort Hing Makin’ the boys:get offi the platform ; Cussin’ the drayman if the skids is lost ; Hollers, ‘Back ’er a ilength,” and the -ea- gineer has to— That's albrakeman for:ye! No conductor forme ;just a brakeman, By kea'! Can make-acouplin’ en dead run‘: ‘ Has spring-bowtom -pants’n braid on his clothes; Carries a tantern at night’n cap over his ears— That's a bralieman, I'll tell ye'! f want to be-a’brakeman. tGeeminently! ‘Stand in with'the agents and operators ; Knows the number -of the trains; chaws backer— He’sa regular one, you bet! “XN [want to'be head brakeman, tGol:lee’! Twistin’ ‘er hard; smoke rollin’ round ye; Country people Sogn. work to look-; Girls wavin® at ye all the way to Perue— I'll be one, too, some da ames Whitcomb Riley. ET ERATE A COWBOYS MATRIMONIAL ‘VEN- TURE. BY LIEUTENANT:G. DE ‘H. BROWN... It was the old, old story. But, as a matter of introduciory fact, this tale throughout is a character very com- monplace. Mr. .Tacob Witham want- ed a wife. In seeking, however, for a partoer with whom to share hismame, liberty and other hereditaments, he resorted to the not unprecedented but eomewhat unconventional method of publishing his craving in the newspapers of San Francisco. Moreover, the advertise- ment was not hidden away in that labyrinth of type popularly termed “want ads,” but inbold face occupied at least ten squares of display. &t read : “pf wANT 4 WIFE." “] am a 35-year-old, a thoroughbred and square. I own 4,000 cattle, 600 horses, have $20,000 sunk, and, barring blizzards, northers and other visitations of a glorious climate, shall never tighten the clinch strap for hung- er. Morally I am on the fence, I drink when I please and swear at the eattle, but I would not swear at a woman? Jacob Witham, ‘Que- madura Flat California.” But Mr. Witham’s aspiration, pro- claimed beyond all misinterpretation, | was destined to be considered by an individual manifestly unsuited to its re- quirements. In a cozy parlor within the aristocratic limits of San Francisco it had caught the eye of one Frederick Weldon, and to that gentleman’s hand- some features it brought a smile of amusement, Possibly he was con- trasting the advertiser's position with his own—he was being entertained by a young girl of admirable witely adap- tations. And yet such was not the exact trend of his thoughts. Mies Dorothy Halsted was a very pretty girl and withal charming. Moreover she was, at that moment, seated beside him on a low sofa, and her dainty head seemed as it created by nature to rest confidingly on some strong, male shoulder. But SanFrancisco was graced with many of her kind. They were all attractive; he loved the 8eX. But in Mr. Witham’s announcement, which be had carelessly lifted from a table at his elbow, Fred discerned an opportunity for poesible diversion, and he extended it to his companion. “Let's apply,” was his sugges- tion. Mies Halsted smiled. “] am only 19,” she returned. “I can wait a year or two longer before re- sorting to any such desperate means.” Fred was on his knees (metaphoric- ally) at once. “Dolly! Mies Dolly I" he ejaculated reproachfully. But this assumption of tender depre- cation elicited only a light, rippling laugh. It is to be feared that the young girl deemed all such courteous platitudes her just tribute. Nor need it be stated with what equally specious phrases she diverted the conversation back into the other channels, suffice to say that she exhib- ited the skill of an adept. Meantime, however, Fred retained the newspaper, and after a brief inter val, he again asked : “Why not anewer it ? I'll write the letter and yon copy it. Then we'll in- close the photo of an actress—if you can find one consistent with his idea— and await results. Again Miss Halsted laughed, but it was only a musical murmur, manifest ing little appreciation; she even ap ‘peared comewhat bored by his persist- ency. Nevertheless she rose and pro- cured the materials requisite for corres- pondence. “But what name shall I sign?” she asked, when at last it had been copied. “You might use a composite,” was the reply. Yes, that's it; make it Dorothy Weldon.” The young girl colored aed lowered her eyes. But ehe accepted the sug- gestion, and over such pseudonym was the letter sent. As an epistolary precursor of future hymeneal joys it was a masterpiece— or 0, at least, Fred averred. It was to be presumed that the unknown Mr. Witham was a cattle baron—i. e., a cowboy on whom fortune had smiled— therefore, all stilted elegance of pbras- eology was avoided. Moreover, the geatleman appeared to desire a wife considerably his junior ‘and for that reason a certain maidenly coyness and naivete was neceseary. But Fred was equal to the task. ‘Miss” Weldon was ashamed, almost afraid to address Mr. Witham. She was alone, howev- er, with no one to advise; was what people vulgarly termed a “shop girl. She had also been told that gentlemen in his walk ot life retained much of that chivalric element of dispogition long since extinct in large cities, Wherefore she trusted—and believed— that he would accord her communica- tion that confidence befitting her sincer- ity. Fred contemplated this last bit of flattery with a smile of complacency. «He'll not swear at his cattle for a | week after that,” he observed. Then he consigned the letter to his pocket. Quemadura Flat was isolated from railroads, and ten days elapsed before an answer was received. A brief note {rom Miss Halsted—addressed, by the { way, to “Miss” Dorothy Weldon—ac- quainted Fred of its arrival, and with- in the snug precincts of her dwelling he found that young lady considerably amused. Mr. Witham’s reply was certainly in keeping with the advertise- ment by which it had been preced- ed. “My Dear Miss Weldon” it began. “Thanks for your letter. Thanks, too, for your picture. I also thank God that I have been permitted to receive them. Perhaps that sounds like a stampede of fervency, but I’m more ac- customed to stampedes than to writing letters. Therefore when I tell you that I like your points you cam back my words. And thus launched upon the sea of correspondence—involved in four pages of very “unfashionable paper—he con tinued. He reiterated all he had pre- viously published, and added consider: able in unimportant detail, of which refereace to certain bankers in Los Angeles comprised no small part. Nor was Fred's allusion to cowboy chivalry without its effect, for in con- clusion he went on : “Ag to your own right to your brand, no further remarks are neces: sary. 1 have seen your face (on paper) and 1 have heard you talk—I know the yelpof a sneaking coyote, and I never yet failed to recognize the jewel- ed hide of a rattlesnake. That's all. With this, however, Mies Halstead appeared less agreeably diverted. “There's a rough, Quixotic credence about it that approaches pathos,” was her musing comment. Fred laughed. “He does put it rather neatly he vouch safed, “but he’s only a cowboy, Dolly ; and, besides this is only his first ; who knows what a mine of lov- ing tenderness we may yet develop ?” The young girl shook her head. “You, perhaps ; not me,” she re- turned. “I shall write no more.” “But, Dolly, think of the—"" 4] know—the ‘fun,’ Mies Halsted interposed. ‘But it's not fun’ to him, and I refuse to continue.” Nevertheless another letter was writ- ten, and in Dolly's delicate chirogra- phy. Nor did Fred's subsequent ex- pression of satisfaction arise wholly from the epistle itself, rather from the young girl's subservience to his wishes. As before a lapse of ten days brought the reply. So, also, did each such succeeding interval for several months thereafter. And they certainly yielded no small fund of eotertainment. The writer albeit he invariably answered by return mail, was by no means of a lovelorn disposition; he strayed into anecdote, thence to humor, and with results, in a crude way, infinitely amusing, Fred, too, it hos since been asserted, soon viewed the correspoan- dence from another standpoint ; indeed, it did permit him to visit Dolly with a frequency prohibited by conventional ity. : Yat it must be confessed ‘that Mr. Witham speedily began to chafe under the restraint of confining words to a mailbag. Each letter contained its appeal that he be permitted to visit the city. Nor were his plaints without a certain element of the pathetic. His ranch was 60 miles from civilization and refinement ; that 60 miles he now traversed to receive— only a letter. “And he's scarcely to be blamed, Dolly,” Fred once observed. “Think of what his longing would be had he seen your own features, instead of Mlle. Clio’s I” Then be contemplated the girl’s fair face with a emile, and, turning away, hummed a bar of some- thing about a “letter that never came.” Meantime, however, there arrived a day when the newspapers again had occasion to publish Jake Witham’s name. It was only a brief notice, tele- graphic, and recounting the destruc- tion by fire of Quemadura Flat the set- tlement wherein that gentleman re- ceived his mail. He had been present at the time—presumably awaiting the customary letter—and had generously donated $500 to those rendered home- less. As the item met Fred's eye a change came over his face and, clipping it from the paper, he conveyed it to Miss Halsted. “I’m rather sorry, after all, Dolly, that we selected such a man for a fool,” he said with a reriousness, to him, unusual. ‘He certainly appears to have a heart and a big one.” Dolly smiled, albeit somewhat satir- ically. “It’s the dollar, not the sentiment, with you, Fred,” she astutely return- ed. Fred made no reply. Possibly his respect for gold was a characteristic admitting no denial. But the young girl was again perus- ing the report, and in the last line she encountered four words previously un- noticed : “Mr. Witham’s badly in- jured.” Her face was slightly paler as she looked up. “He's given more than his dollars, Fred,” she said, in a low tone, Fred looked grave. At the same time there wes dep'cied in his expree- sion a vague sense of relief. “Well, that lets me out,” he retura- ed. “To tell the truth, Dolly, I was beginning to wonder how we could ex- tricate ourselves gracefully.” But Fred erred, and that gravely. in | believing he was to escape thus easily from the correspondence which he had begun. Three days later he was again summoned into Miss Halsted’s pre- sence, ani that young lady met him "with & look of blank dismay. She bad received another letter from Mr. Wit- ham and of a character vastly dissimi- lar to those of earlier date. Moreover, a small package accompanied the let: ter. Within reposed a ring whose glistening stone was worthy to grace even Dolly's tapering fingers, and he was following the ring. “Here!” the young girl ejaculated, } almost tearfully. ‘He's coming here 1” Fred knit his brow ; manifestly be was disconcerted, and he took the let ter from her hand. But there was no loophole for misconstruction. The writer was no longer an appealing swain, suing for favor; he had met with an accident—had narrowly escap- ed death, and by it was warned that delay frequently entailed disaster. At the closing statement, however, Fred exhibited some slight relief. Mr. Witham did not intend “roping a wife’ as he would a steer—unannounc- ed. He would await Miss Weldon’s pleasure at the Palace Hotel. “And we'll have to meet him there,” Fred declared in a tone of desperation. “We!” the young girl exclaimed, “I'mmot Mies Weldon.” “Well, I will, then,” Fred returned. “But what will I tell him—that you're sick, dead, or have left the city ?” Miss Halsted shook her head. “That would only mean procrastina- tion, with an explanation still to be made,” she said, dubiously. “Nos if you are going to meet him— ifyou dare to meet him—tell him the truth.” Fred winced. 1t had not previously occurred to him that an encounter with Mr. Witham might entail bodily dis- comfort. “Do—do you suppose he’ll fight ?” he queried, half absently. “I hope 80 ; you deserve it,’ was the young girl's reply. Then she paused and her eyes sparkled mischievously as she noted her companion’s dejec- tion. “No; I don't mean that, Fred,” she added ; “I would not like you to get hurt. But you must see him.” “And I will, Dolly,” was Fred's earnest rejoinder, his love for her sex fast tending toward centralization. “For you I'd interview that gentleman who buys his shoes at the farrier's” But words are not actions. The fol- lowing day was nearly at an end when Fred entered the Palace Hotel and glanced over the register. Inwardly he was praying that the name of Witham should not appear upon its pages ; that its owner might be reposing beneath a wrecked train, shot by express robbers, intoxicated by the wayside—anything. But there it was, and at sight of it he repaired to the barroom. That courage, however which is at- tributed to Holland appeared to have lost its potency, and he soon returned to the office. His hand trembled as he drew a card from his pocket ; but it had to be done, and he tendered it to the clerk. “Mr, Witham,” he said, tersely. Five minutes later a speaking tube wheezed, and he watched the clock. But the suspense was of brief duration. Yes; Mr. Witham was in and would be pleased to see Mr. Weldon at once. Fred drew a loog breath, then straightened up and walked toward the elevator. Hitherto he bad never entered one of those elevators at the Palace without speculating on their safety, but now he wished it would fall. He even contemplated, mentally, his own bruised and mangled remains, and the consequent press notices. But it reached the third floor without mishap. The bell boy, too, seemed as if bent upon bastening the calamitous work, for he at once conducted him to the door of Mr. Witham’s room and tapped loudly on the panel. “Come |” was the cheery response that floated through the transom, and Fred shuddered. Then he pulled him. self together and turned the knob. But on the threshold he paused. Mr. Witham—the ‘cowboy’—was seated within, and of exterior he was not at all formidable. His features, albeit bearded, were boyish, pleasant and rather handsome, and his attire was that affected by a man of the world. But it was not with him that Fred was now concerned—Dorothy Halsted was seated on his knee. Fred was like a man dazed by some sudden revelation ; he seemed, almost, to stagger. But the cowboy smiled. Then litting Dolly he deposited her in his own seat and advanced with ex- tended hand. “My wife, Mr, Weldon,” he obsery- ed lightly. “We have had her father’s blessing ; I trust we have yours.” Fred stared ; he was yet like one in the dark, and he scarcely noticed the hand which clasped his own. But he was speedily enlightened, and by Miss Halsted or, rather, the former Miss Halsted—herself. “Yee, Fred,” she said with a wealth of smiles and blushes, “we must con- fess to a little deception. My own photo and not Mlle. Clio’s was inclosed in your first letter, and after the second my—--my husband always wrote two letters, one for us and one for me. And really Fred, I think his apprecia- tion of the situation influenced me— just a bit——in what has happened.” Fred bowed--very coldly; he was himself again. “It all goes to show he afterward averred, ‘that women can’t be trusted even in matters of jocular entertainment.—""In Philadel- phia Times. Not many years ago the south- ern planter thought cottonseed oil a nuisance, and would have been glad to raise cotton without seed. It was used only as a fertilizer. It is now selling in the south at the oil mills at 25 cen's a bushel, or $15.50 a ton. A great deal of it is sent to Europe, and comes back as pure olive oil. Its uses in cooking are largely multiplying. ——A burglar comes forward with o remedy for sneezing He says: “Close your eyes and open your mouth; keep opening and shutting your mouth till the desire to sneeze has stopped.” Preparing for the Great Incoming Host. Official Particulars Concerning the C. E. Con- vention. An Immense Throng Expected. They Will Come From all Over the State—Some of the Speakers amd Their Subjects--Simulta” neous Meetings—A Monster Reception Com, mittee—Pink and White the Convention Colors —The Latest News from the Committee of 9%. The approaching Christian Endeavor Convention is arousing such general in- terest among the citizens of York that an official article decriptive of the move- ment and of the convention may be counted especially opportune at this time. The gigantic Christian Endeavor movement had its genesis in Williston Congregational church, Portland, Me., in February of 1881. The founder of the society was the present head of the general organization, Rev. Francis E, Clark, D. D. The principles of the new society comprehended so generally that ere long similar organizations be- gan to spring up all over the country. To-day the movement numbers over two million members, in societies all over the world. The fundamental principles of the movement are pledged Bible study, daily prayer, a weekly prayer meeting participated in by all the members of the society, a monthly consecration ser- vice, a series of committees such as Look-out, Missionary, Social, Prayer meeting, Visiting, etc., all of which pames are self-explanatory. Allegiance to one’s own local church and denomi- pation is emphasized as being subordi- nate only to the great cause of Christ and the Church. WHAT C. E. CONVENTIONS ARE. The society has become especially well known because of its mammoth in- ternational conventions held each year. These gatherings are perhaps the great- est events of the year in the church cir- cles. At them are represented all por- tions of this land, and nearly all the countries in the world. The one held at New York two years ago was attend- ed by forty thousand Christian Endeav- orers, and left an impression which has not yet been effaced. The following year the convention went to Montreal, and last July, in spite of strikes and financial depressions, forty thousand delegates were registered in attendance upon the convention at Cleveland. YORK '94. The State conventions are similarly planned to these larger gatherings, al- though they are of a somewhat more practical nature, owing to the limited scope of the work. The Convention at York on the 17th, 18th, 19th of next month bids fair to eclipse all previous gatherings of the kind, whether in this or in other States. In point of numbers it is an assured success. Already five counties have been officially heard from, and they promise in all twelve hundred delegates. There are yet sixty counties to be heard from. Even the most san- guine of the convention workers do not dare to make any predictions concern- ing the number of people who will be in attendance upon the convention. Preparations are being made on an im- mense scale. The many hundreds of visitors who will come to the city will all be taken care of. The Entertain- ment Committee, comprising Mr. Wil- ber Yeats, with a large corps of assis- tants, is busily engaged every day in making arrangements for the accom- modation of the expected thousands. The highest rate for entertainment in private homes will be $1.50 per day. THE CONVENTION AUDITORIUM. The Committee '94 has been especially fortunate in procuring for the conven- tion sessions a building better suited to the purpose than any that has heretofore held a body of Peunsylvania Chris- tian Endeavors. The Convention Audi- torium, situated at the corner of Phila- delphia and Beaverstreets, in the centre of the city, will comfortably accomodate forty-five hundred delegates. The build- ing is eplendidly lighted. There are seven entrances, so that the facilities for ingress and egress are all that could be desired. The Auditorium will contain a sub post office and telegraph office, and a good literature table, where all Chris- tian Endeavor supplies can be procured. There will also be Reception and Press Committee offices in the building, which will be beautifully decorated with tre Convention colors, pink and white, and with the colors of the Station Union, red and blue. UNION HEADQUARTERS. The counties sending more than a hundred delegates will have union headquarters in some church provided by the committee. Thus far the Phila- delphia Union bas had headquarters given it in the City Hotel, this being a departure from the general rule ; the Allegheny County Union will have its headquarters in Zioa Lutheran church. The other headquarters will be assigned later. The railroads of the State have granted a uniform rate of two cents per mile to all the delegates of the conven- tion. Mr. William A. Gillespie, 913 North Twelfth street, Philadelphia, has charge of transportation matters for the entire State. WHITE CAPS AND SCOUTS. All arriving delegates will be met by the Reception Committee and directed to their temporary homes, the Conven- tion Auditorium, or wherever else they may desire to go. This committee will consist of several hundred young people who may be distinguished by the wear- ing of white yachting caps, trimmed with pink. ‘White Capped’ scouts will also meet all incoming delegations at some distance from the city. THE PROGRAMME. But as to the convention itself, the programme is one of surpassing merit, a clear advance on the very good pro- grammes of preceeding years. It em- braces all the departments of Christian Endeavor, practical reform, and relig- ious advance. Aside from the brilliant array of Pennsylvania speakers there will be two notables from outside of the state, Rev. J. A. Rondthaler, D. D., of Indianapolis, whose vigorous speaking has earned for him the sobriquet of “The Indiana Cyclone’’; and Mr. 8. L. Mershon, of Evanston, Ill., the famous leader of the Missionary Extension Movement. Dr. Rondthaler also con- ducts the “Open Parliament’”’ on the lookout and prayer meeting committees. A word about these “Open Parlia- ment” which are such characteristic features of Christian Endeavor conven- tions. In them practical subjects are discussed by the entire convention and they have more than once been partici- pated in by over a hundred persons within an hour. The list of “Open Parliaments” of the Park convention is larger and more varied, perhaps, than at any other convention ever held. The manner in which the delegates will be received has been mentioned ; HOW THEY WILL BE WELCOMED. is equally important and worthy of mention. Of course, the pink and white that will be everywhere displayed in the city, will be in itself a cordial welcome, but the formal expression of the city’s pleasure at the presence of its great host of guests, has been entrusted to worthy and representative men. Prof. O. L. Jacobs, Principal of the High School, and Chairman of the Committee of '94, will speak for the Committee and for the Christian En- deavorers of the city ; and Rev. E. T. Jeffers, D. D., President of the York Collegiate Institute, will express the welcome of the churches and the citi- zens of York. The city itself will be represented in the person of Mayor Loucks. This convention will be evangelistic in its character, in a large measure, as is indicated by the subject for the open- ing session, ‘ Winning men to Christ.” A novel feature of the gathering will be the noon-day evangelistic rervices in the shops and factories of the city, con- lyducted the delegates. Rev. Charles A. Oliver, President of the York Union, and Rev. C. E. Adamson, Philadelphia, have these services in charge. By this and other means the convention will be made to touch the life of York at many points. The Endeavorers believe that it will work a spiritual revolution in the city. Another feature of the great conven- tion will be a wonster rally of Junior societies on Friday afternoon. No church in the city, it is believed, can accommodate the crowds that will at- tend this gathering, so arrangements have been made to hold it in the Con- vention Auditorium. The rally will be preceded by a parade of Juniors; one thousand children are expected to be in line. The music of the convention wiil be one of its most important and delight- ful phases. A choir of several hundred voices, led by Prof. E. A. Rice, will be seated on the platform. Prof. and Mrs. Lowe, the celebrated vocalists, of Phila- delphia, will aid the services by their sweet voices. In addition to all this the famous cornetists, the Park sisters, of New York, who received such an ovation at Montreal and Cleveland, will be present at the York Convention. It will be well worth the trip to York, merely to hear the Convention music. Rev. Francis E. Clark, D. D., presi- dent of the United Society, has been prevented from coming to York by ill health. He is now journeying abroad, but a phonographic address from him will be heard at the convention. An Awful Thirst. Senator Blackburn and the Indian Both Afflicted With It. One of the best stories illustrating the convivial nature of Senator ‘Joe’ Blackburn, of Kentucky, is this one, which has been going the rounds of the Washington botels and clubs : Senator Blackburn was some years ago traveling alone through Indian ter- ritory in a not very thickly populated section, and, although he started with a generous quaatity of liquor, the sup- ply, with the exception of a single quart flask, became exhausted. While in this condition he met a Cherokee Indian, who asked him to extend the usual courtesies to a traveler. The courtesies were promptly extended and, as the brand was the finest Kentucky, the senator was hardly surprised when the Indian, who was mounted on a beautiful horse, eagerly offered him $5 for the remainder of the bottle. The offer was declined, whereupon the In- dian offered his saddle, his bridle and finally his horse, but all without avail. “Did you ever hear of a thirst like that?’ the senator inquired of the friend to whom he told the story. “Why didn’t you take the offer?” was asked. “Great heavens, man!” ex- claimed Senator Blackburn, “it was the last bottle I had on earth!” Can Idiots Be Cured? Idiots have been improved, educated and even cured ; not opein a thousand has been entirely refractory to treat- ment ; not one in a hundred who has not been made more happy and healthy; more than 30 per cent. have been taught to conform to social and moral law, and rendered capable of order, of good feel- ing, and of working like the third of a man ; more than 40 per cent. have be- come capable of the ordinary transac- tions of life under friendly, control, of understanding moral and social abstrac- tions, of working like two-thirds of a man ; and 25 to 30 per cent. come near- er and nearer the standard of manhood, till some of them will defy the scrutiny of good judges when compared with ordinary young men and women. That this is no mere rhetorical flourish is proved by the statistics of one of the largest English training institutions for imbeciles. What Drunkenness Led to. CHaskA, Minn., September 30.—Sev- en persons were drowned here last evening. IL. Scharf and family who had attended the fair, started home at 7 o'clock. Scharf was intoxicated and was driving fast. When within a block of the river he was stopped by C. Kunz, who told him to drive slower. Scharf promised to do so, but no soon- er was he released than he whipped his horses furiously and dashed down the river bank, over the ferry and into the river. His wife, five children and Miss Mary Boskue, Mrs. Scharf's sis- ter were drowned as were the horses. Scharf clung to the wagon box and was rescued. The bodies of Mrs. ! Scharf and two of the children were | recovered. | —— Katharine, “He is such an at- tractive man, isn't he ?" Janet, “I should say so. He can draw a larger check than any man in town."'— Detroit Free Press. For and About Women. Dr. Anne Walter, of Mississippi, has charge of the Woman's Hospital at Soo Chow, China. The women of Topeka, Kan., have recently organized for thorough dress reform. The new dress is to consist of Turkish trousers covered by a skirt reaching to the fold, a close or loose waist, as the wearer may prefer, and cloth leggings to match the trousers. It is the intention of the women to or- ganize into relief squads so a number of them may be on the streets all day, and thus the community will become famil- iar with the reform. The cheviots which are selling for fall and winter gowns show more beautiful combinations of color than ever before. The warm undertones of red give charm- ing effects, and the dashes of bright col- or on a dark back-ground are extreme- ly stylish. The new cheviot gowns are made with vests of a contrasting color and trimmed with conspicuously large buttons. One stylish costume recently imported was of brown cheviot flecked with heliotrope in a rather indistinct manner. The skirt was made plain, with the fullness drawn towards the back in box plaits. The bodice was slightly gathered over the corsage and worn with a vest of dark heliotrope cloth. A stock collar and deep cuffs of helio- trope velvet completed the effect. The cheviots of brown and tan are woven in any number of stylish designs. Bronze buttons with a mother-of-pearl orna- ment are chiefly used as their trimming. For a gown a trifle more elaborate than a cheviot there are the silk and wool crepons. They are the most. tempting of all the fall importations. These crepons are expensive, selling for $2.95 a yard. When combined with velvet they make an ideal reception gown. A rich dark red is one of the fashionable shades. The wavy line throughout the crepon is very distinct and has much to do with the graceful effect of the material when draped. A charming costume might be made of this dark red crepon combined with black velvet. Use the velvet for a petticoat and the crepon for a long draped overskirt. The crepon bodice should be made with a black velvet vest and huge velvet sleeves. Ammonia is very cleansing. It has been known to take the paint off wood- work and the design out of carpet. ‘Women who put this powerful chemi- cal into the water for a shampoo may expect positive results--a thouroughly clean scalp slightly parched, a little sore and perhaps a brief headache; crisp, dry, bleached hair and premature gray- ness. Of course, no two people are alike. Ammonia may be just the thing for one wig, but a wise fellow in a Broadway hair shop says it is too strong for toilet purposes. Just a word of warning regarding the eccentric neck rigs that are now in vogue. It is quite the mode, as you know, to smother your throat with a bewilderment of chiffon, silk or crepe, buckled and rosetted to a startling ex- tent. Now for the tall, slender woman, with a throat termed by novelists “gwan-like.”’ these fluffy ruches and col- larettes are all right, but her pudgy sis- ter with a thick, short throat is going to come very near making a guy of her- self if she eniploys too grotesque neck creations. She must not forget that balloon sleeves are doing their very best to ac- centuate her dumpiness, and these puffed affairs become decidedly unat- tractive when the throat is walled up to the chin with feathers, tulle, etc. Study your stature when contempla- ting these dress details, and let artistic discrimination guide you in the adop- tion of bizarre neck arrangements. To-day lace. is one of the dearest de- tails of a woman’s dress. She quills it about her throat and tosses it in creamy or sombre billows down the front of her bodice. It clings to the draperies of her dress, lies softly on her wide brimmed hat, muftles her pretty white neck in boas and gives the finishing touch to her plain velvet gown. It is quite an open question whether plain or draped skirts will prevail this season in Paris. Both are fashionable, and both have their staunch and faith- ful adherents. Draped skirts are so graceful in light, soft materials for eve- ning wear that they might have won the day, had not plain ones the resource of a variety of pretty trimmings which make them look, at least as elegant as those of a more elaborate fashion. Guipure lace is one of the most in fa- vor. We have already mentioned it, but we have still some new arrange- ments to note. One is to form with the lace a sort of open corselet, with a basque clinging over the hips, from which long lapels come down over each seam of the dress to the foot. These lapels are not left loose, but are sewn down over the skirt. Sometimes the lace forms open revers over the bodice, and 8 belt coming down into deep peaks over the skirt. Again we see 8 peaked tablier of lace, finished at the foot of the skirt with a large flat butter- fly bow. Pleats are more fashionable than ever. Not only skirts but bodices and sleeves are put on in hollow pleats. For skirts, two or three pleats are formed at the back, comprising all the fullness of the skirt A great many bodices are put on in hollow pleats placed close one to the other over a yoke of some sort : or else the pleats commence from the neck and the seams over the shoulders. Sometimes they aresewn down to the waist, and sometimes only to the top of the chest. Or again they are fastened at the top only, and thence fall loose. This is always the case with sleeves when, instead of being gathered or put on in small, equal pleats, they aredivid- ed into three, five or seven large, hol- low pleats. Some attempts have been made to arrange the sleeve in one large, hollow pleat flattened down, hiding the shoulder seam, and coming upto the collar. This shape, however, has but one sole merit, novelty. The pleat, however flat, thickens the outline of the shoulder and can in no way add to the elegance of the figure, therefore, we do not think it likely to obtain great or . lasting success.
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