===
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.