, carelessness.
ing eyes.
a
Bellefonte, Pa., Nov. 8, 1894.
HALLOW EEN.
Before she passes through the gates which op
en
On noiseless hinges for each coming guest, .
October, decked with golden erown and cope
And rich with treasures of autumnal quest
Pauses, and bids her couriers to await
The final pleasure of their royal queen,
Who fain would witness mortals celebrate
Their Hallow e’en.—
From distant places where their footsteps
roam,
From childhood’s Eden and its charms aloof,
Her regai summons brings the exiles home
To swell tha mirth beneath the ancestral
roof ; ;
The mellow fruitage which her days have
stored,
The ample cellars of the earth between,
She brings to grace and cheer the festive
board
Of Ballow e’en.
The lamplights flicker as the merry jest
Wakes echoes on the laughter-laden air ;
The smiles upon each countenance attest
The sweet enjoyment which their owners
share ;
The sprite of jollity, enthroned above,
Commands the changes of each act and
scene.
As through the gathered guests his envoys
move
On Hallow e’en.
* * * * * * * * *
Youth strives amain toread its horoscope
Behind the vale which dims the Future's
glass :
While Age,
grown wiser with advancing years
Views each attempt
with countenance
serene, :
Till with the midnight’s signal disappears
The Hallow e’en. 4
—Anon.
r———————
HE FORGOT.
BY AGNES ETHEL HOUSTAN.
He was a fine, handsome boy, tall
straight, and manly aod with an hon-
est look into your eyes: He was so
bright and promising, too, and there
was such a future before him if only—
And just at that point people al-
ways sighed and shook their heads.
Ah, that troublesome “if!” How
many a young man might have made
something of himself but for an ‘‘if”
that hung about his neck like a mill:
stone and dragged him down.
You could not have been with Roy
Delton very long without finding out
just what the trouble was. He was
always genial and friendly. It was no
fault of temper, you may be sure.
Sometimes his friends thought that his
temper was too easy, and that in his
careless gayety their warnings and re-
monstrances made no impression on
him and were forgotten as soon as
they were uttered. You see, that was
Roy’s trouble—he forgot.
“Going fishing, Roy?’ his father
said to him one morning. “Well, be
sure and shut the pasture gate as you
go through. You left it open the last
time, you remember.”
“All right, sir,” he called back with
a frank smile that made his mother
think him the handsomest boy in the
world ; and presently his merry whis-
tle was making the woods and valleys
ring. He came home that evening
with a basket of fish, and cried enthu-
siastically :
“Qh, I've had the jolliest day! I
never did have eo much tun!”
“Iam glad you enjoyedit,” said his
father, grimly. “My day has not been
85 pleasant. I have worn myself out
trying to remedy the results of your
You left the pasture gate
open this morning and all the cattle
got out. Dick and I bad to quit work
and spend the entire day getting them
back.”
“Oh, I'm awfully sorry 1” exclaimed
Roy with a dismayed look. “I fully
intended to shut the gate, but I must
have forgotten it.”
Aud he looked really sorry for a
minute or two ; kat his father heard
him whistling before he reached the
house,
“Roy, did you fasten the door of the
corncrib 7 asked his father one even-
ing, when he had come in from his
evening work. |
“Yes, sir—thatis, I think I did,”
was the ready answer.
“You had better go out and see,”
urged Mr. Delton, but Roy replied in
his careless, confident fashion :
“Oh, I'm pretty sure I closed it.
However, I'll go out and see before
bedtime.”
Bat the next morning, there was the
crib door standing wide open, and
there was one of the best horses in the
agonies of death because it helped it-
gelf to corn and had eaten too much.
“I don’t know why father should be
go angry with me.’ Roy said to his
mother. “He ought to know that I
didn’t do it on purpose ; I simple for-
got.”
Mr. Delton came in at that moment
and heard the last words. He was
very angry, and it must be acknowl
edged that he had sufficient reason.
“That ie always your excuse,’ he
said. “You ‘forget’* Does that reme-
dy tbe evil, or keep you from repeating
it? You are always doing some mis-
chief by your carelessness, and then
you eay ‘I forgot,’ as though that set:
tled the whole matter. 1 can’t help
thinking that such conduct is the re
sult of pure eulfishness and utter dis-
regard of others.”
Roy stared at his father with widen-
Never before in all his life
had such things been said to him, and
he was deeply mortified and eonsidered
himself aggrieved and humiliated. For
two or three days afterwards he went
about with a cloud on his face, and at
last he told his mother:
“] suppose father thinks I am not
fit to stay on the farm, where my mis-
takes do so much mischief. The best
thing 1 can dois to accept Captain
Sinclair's offer and go into the tele-
graph office.”
And though the subject was die
cussed with great earnestness for two
or three weeks, Roy finally bad his
way and went. His father was. very
grave through it all, and just as Roy
was starting he took the boy aside and
said, more seriously than he had ever
spoken in his lite :
“Roy, yenr mistakes have hurt me a
great deal, in time and work as well as
in pocket. They have caused me a
great deal of anxiety and annoyance.
Never mind about that now. I shall
never mention it again. But there are
vocations in which mistakes cost more
than money. They cost human life.
The railroad business is one of them.”
Roy went away, but ‘that little
speech went with him. He thought of
it all the way to town and 1t was with
him many and many a day afterwards,
as he sat in the telegraph office at the
station and learned to manipulate the
key. For once in his life he remem-
bered a warning and it gave him a
sense of his own responsibility that he
found very irksome. And yet, strange
to say, he felt quite trinmpbant be-
cause he had made no mistakes now.
“Father was very impatient and
never did me justice,” he said to* him-
self. I suppose he sees by this time
that I am not so bad a fellow after
all.”
He was so bright and so full of
energy that learning was like play and
hesoon had the business mastered,
and, as he wrote to his mother, was
only waiting for an opening.” Ina
chort time the opening came. A
station agent was wanted at a little
town up the road and Captain Sinclair
recommended Roy for the position.
“He is very young,’ he said to the
superintendent, “but he is a bright fel-
low and understands his business. I
think you may trast him.”
And so Roy found himself in charge
of an office where he shipped and re-
ceived freight, sold tickets and was ex-
press agent telegraph operator and
everything. That is what he wrote to
his mother.
The letter that came back was very
kind and encouraging, but through it
all ran an undertone of anxiety. The
position was a great honer for him, but
go much depended on his being care-
ful, and now he must not forget !
“They must think I am a child,’
Roy muttered impatiently. :
The dignity of his position had
made him more confident of himself
and more restless under advice. He
was not the first young man that be-
came somewhat arrogant over his suc-
cess. Such arrogance sometimes needs
a severe lesson and Roy’s lesson was
coming.
An excursion train went down the
road one morning to a town forty
miles below, where was to be a great
picnic. Half of the towns people at
Roy's station joined it, all in holiday
attire and with a tumult of happy talk
and laughter. While the young sta-
tion agent stood on the platform look-
ing up at the coach windows regret:
fully—for he was young and he loved
fun and holidays—soteone leaned out
and slapped him on the shoulder.
“Roy Delton, as I'm living!” cried a
familiar voice, and Roy looked up and
recognized one of his old-time chums
at school, who had gone out west with
his family years ago.
Almost before they had clasped
hands the train began moving, but the
friend shouted back:
“Say, Roy! I'll stop off when we
come back this evening and spend to
morrow with you!”
And the train rounded the curve and
was out of sight.
All that day Roy thought of nothing
but the pleaure of meeting his old
friend and the many things he would
have to say to him when he came
came back. Old Percy King! What
times they bad had together.
He grew very impatient as the time
approached for the train to return, and
was so preoccupied that he scarcely
comprehended a message that came
clicking over the wires :
“Side-track 48, excursion train, and
wait for north-bound special.”
He answered with the usual “0. K.”
and thea hurried out to meet the train
and Percy King.
Such handshaking and rejoicing as
there was. While they walked about
with their arms over one another's
shoulders the train moved out and Roy
wenton talking and looked -after it
with uncomprehending eyes.
It was ten minutes afterwards that
be thought of what he had done. He
was talking about his father, and then
he said :
“I used to think father was hard on
me, but [ was rather careless, I sup:
pose. How-ever, I'm well over it
now.”
And then he remembered !
Percy was amazed to see him fall
back into a chair with a ghastly pallor
on his face. Almost instantly, how-
ever, Roy sprang to the key and called
up the next town in feverish haste.
“Forty-eight passed bere by mis-
take. Detain special,’’ was the mes-
sage he rattled off. The next moment
came the answer, sounding like a thun-
derbolt in the quiet office :
“Special passed fifteen
ago.”
Without a word the young tele-
grapher turned and went into the inner
office and locked himself in. He
would not listen to a human voice, or
look into a buman face. He had
dropped into the first chair, and he sat
pale to the lips, and chilled as though
he were turning to stone. His friend
was outside, knocking on the door and
imploring to be let in, but he did not
hear him. He heard instead, over and
over again :
“There are vocations in which mis-
takes cost more than money. They cost
human life. The railroad business is
one of them.”
A horrible picture was before him—
a picture of toppling engines and crush-
ed cars full of mangled human bodies.
He could hear the shrieks and groans
as plainly as be could hear his own
pame ringing around the world in ac-
cents of execration. He could see his
own ruined life and his father’s bowed
head and his mother dying broken
hearted.
Aud yet he had only repeated the of-
fense that had spoiled his youth. He
had intended to do right, but he forgot:
Strange that a moment's forgetfulness
ghould be fraught with such conse
quences | Ifonly he had trained him-
self to remember before forgetfulness
became a crime !
minutes
He had been sitting there, how long
he knew not, when the shrieking of
whistles ‘and the rumbling of car
wheels - aroused him. Were more
trains passing to rush into that awfal
scene awaiting them up the road? He
arose, weak as as old man, and totter
ed out on the platform. And there,
backing slowly into the station, came
the excursion train, with the special
following it. Not a car was splintered,
not a wheel was broken. The excur-
sionists looked curiously from the win
dows’ and a golden haired baby leaned
out and threw a kiss to him with her
dimpled hand.
One of the trainmen was hastily ex-
plaining, but the young station agent
was dazed and scarely understood. He
heard something about a ‘hot-box,’
which had stopped the special, and so
the excursion train had time to work
the air brakes, though there was not a
distance of six feet to spare between
the noses of the two engines.
“Somebody has made an awful blun-
der ; it will be all day with him when
it comes out who he is,” the man added
significantly.
The next day a young man, with a
face so haggard that he looked ten
years older than his age, walked into
the office of the superintendent.
“My name is Roy Delton,” he said.
“I am agent at Groveton, I made a
mistake yesterday that might have
cost two or three scores of lives. I
have come to resign my place and you
may do what you please by way of
punishment.”
And then his overwrought nerves
gave away : and he fell at the superin-
tendent’s feet.
An illoess of several weeks followed,
and two of those weeks elapsed before
Roy koew that he was in the com-
pany’s hospital, with his mother al-
ways near him. Duringthe days of
convalescence he did a great deal of
thinking, and once he said somewhat
sadly :
“J never realized it before, mother,
but now I know that it’s no excuse to
say 'I forgot” People have no right
to forget, whether it’s a case of shut-
ting gates or stopping trains. And the
worst of it is thas the little things,
such as gates for instance, finally grow
into big things with human life invol-
ved in them, and the fellow that ‘for-
gets’ finds himself ruined.”
Perhaps it was a good thing after all
that the superintendent happened to
be visiting the hospital that morning,
and that he was standing near the door
of the ward and heard that little speech
At any rate he went in and said very
kindly for him :
“Young man, you may report at my
office as soon as you are able. Your
lesson has been a severe one, but I
think you have learned it. At any
rate I'll try you again.
EST
An Attractive Window.
The head of the house had told the
new clerk to .try his hand at window-
dressing. ‘I want you to make every
woman on the street look at this win-
down,” he said. The clerk went at it.
He made a curtain of solid black velvet
and hung it close inside the plate glass.
«What on earth are you doing ?”’ ask-
ed the senior member. “Making a mir-
ror of the window,’ said the clerk. ¢If
the women won’t look at that they won't
look at anything.” The clerk is a
member of the firm now.
————
Ruskin's Hatred of Chrysanthemums,
Mr. Ruskin was asked if he did not
admire chrysanthemums in the quad.
Now, he liked nothing abnormal or
artificial, and he regarded the produc-
tion of chrysanthemums as an unhal-
lowed attempt to grow flowers at a sea-
son when nature meant that there
should be noflowers, and so the start-
ling answer came . “I have chrysan-
themus.”
ERATE.
A Philanthropist.
«lixense me,’ said Meandering Mike,
as he paused at the kitchen door, ‘but
hev ye got any work ye want done in
exchange fur cold, vittles ?”
“Yes,” was the prompt reply.
«All right,” was the reply, as he
turned away. ‘Good dey.”
«What made you ask the question ?”
«Why, sometimes I meets men that
wants ter work fur cold vittles, an’ I'm
so kind-hearted that I like ter be able
ter tell"em whur they kin be accom-
merdated.
TTS
He Did Not Advertise.
A man from Pocatello, Idaho, recent-
ly sent to Salt Lake for some furniture,
His local dealer, hearing of this, called
on him and seid: “I had these same
goods. Why didn’t you buy from me ?”
“What, did you have them ?"’ was the
surprised rejoinder. “I never thought
so; but I saw an ad of the things I
wanted in the Salt Lake papers and sent
for them.” The moral is apparent.
ECE,
Two Sides to the Question.
“You must go to bed now, dear. You
know the chickens all go to roost with
the fun,”
“Yes, but then their mamma always
goes with them.”’— Boston Beacon.
CATR,
The Hopeless, Helpless Widower.
There is nothing on earth so helpless
as a widower who has spent all his mar-
ried life wondering how his wife would
manage to get along if he should be
taken away.
Sr A RATT
Kentucky is complaining of a
scurcity of water. It seems an odd plaint
from Kentucky, but whiskey can’t be
made without water.
ES,
Of the 26,383 recruits levied
the Bavarian army in 1893, only
were unable to read and write.
for
six
——1It is said that Maine women
increasing in height. Six footers
not unsual among them,
SE ——_——
are
are
And now is gone the summer girl,
With all her fancy frills and flummery;
Sassiety outpours its soul
Upon chrysanthemummery.
«Living Pictures.”
Stronger proof of the degeneracy of
the theater could not-be furnished than
Lady Henry Somerset's exposure of tha
tableau vivants in the Palace theater
of London. Just before sailing for
America 1n August, she attended this
theater in order to personally satisfy
herself as to the character of the per-
formance which was being conducted
by many, but which she had condemned
in her last annual address.
As this is a question in which good
women the world over are concerned,
and as there is much probability that
«living pictures” will be introduced up-
on the “boards’’ of American theaters,
we desire to give our readers a good
portion of Lady Somerset's appeal to
the authorities of the theatre and the
women of England. A stronger and
more delicate presentation of the sub-
tact could not be made. Her article,
which was first published in the Wo-
man’s Signal, has been widely copied in
the English press and favorably com-
mented on by every paper that stands
on the side of morality. Lady Henry
says :
Tos learned that they (living pic-
tures) verged on indecency, and that
public opinion ought to be roused by
them. But my worst surmises did not
come near the actual fact; and so strong-
ly do I feel, now that I know what
these living pictures really are, I have
determined to desert the shelter of anon-
ymity in order to make a personal ap-
eal to woman in my own name. The
tableaux are many of them harmless,
and in a manner picturesque. Itis on-
ly to a few that I wish to call attention,
but those are simply outrageous. In
them young glrls are posed with no
other clothes at all on them but tights
from neck to foot. . For the first
time in a Christian country, our broth-
ers, husbands, sisters, sons and wives are
bidden to assist at an exhibition of un-
clothed women. . . . These tableaux
violate every artistic canon. It is a sham
nudity, not spiritualized and made ideal
by the hallowed creating hand of genius,
but palpably gross and disgusting in its
suggestive flesh-colored skin tights. I
suppose people would make a protest
if it were proposed ‘to expose
women in uaveiled nudity; but
the artistic apology would certainly
be stronger, and for myself I cannot see
that the humiliation to the performer
would be greater. This film of gauze is
but a silly lie,a sort of quibble by which
the thing may escape being called by
its right name. No one who sees but
must agree here is the gravest insult and
dishonor that has been put upon wo-
men in our time, for that atlast we
have, in letting women make public
merchandise of the beauty of their
bodies, surpassed even the Oriental
standard of female degradation. . . . .
I am speaking now not of lithographs,
but of living girls—young women whose
modesty and purity are of just as much
account in the sight of God as the vir-
tue of the highest in the land, whose
dishonor is just as much a blot and in-
famy on the community as would be
publicly tolerated insult or outrage on
the most royal of princesses. That this
thing should go cn under a popular au-
thority (London county council) is to
me incredible. . . . No prize fight could
be one-half so brutalizing, so de-civiliz-
ing, so degrading to the most sacred in-
stincts of humanity as this public pag-
eantry of shame. ... The time for
speaking out has come, and I earnestly
call upon every one who has a voice that
he or she can make articulate to join in
a protest against this unholy thing.
The current number of the Woman's
Signal contains, besides many indorse-
ments of the above noble plea, an edi-
torial sequence, which, by the well-
known ‘‘ear-marks,” we feel safe in
saying was written by Mrs. Mary B.
Willard, who is editing the paper in
Lady Henry’s absence. Old-time read-
ers of The Union Signal will be glad to
read our pioneer editor's spicy remarks
on a London paper’s comment of Lady
Henry's appeal, so we make no apology
for giving the article in full. The com-
ment which furnished Mrs. Willard her
text is as follows :
«It was morally certain that when
ladies began going to these places some
of them would be shocked and would
say 80.”
Mrs. Willard then moralizes in this
wise :
This is & naive confession, from which
a good deal may be extracted. First,
that up to date “ladies” have not been
“going to see’ the living pictures ; sec-
ond, that in the everlasting certainties of
things it was written that only their
ignorance of this sort of public enter-
tainment prevented an earlier exposure
and condemnation of its character ; that
in its secret heart the world expects
women to speak out, to raise her voice
against iniqity of all sorts. no matter
how cunningly it may be devised. The
unconscious testimony to this fact cught
to give courage and force to woman’s
speech and pen. Nay, more, it lays
obligation upon woman to know the
truth, however dark it may be. and to
drag it to the light. The world waits
for such service as this, and the cause
that demands it is neither man’s cause
nor woman’s, but the larger interest of
human progress.
A good housekeeper tolerates no dark
corners in her domain for the accumu-
lation of dust and germs. Air and light
and brush and broom are her preven-
tions against vermin and disease. Shall
che not look as well to the ways of her
larger household, employing the same
methods that have played so large and
successful a part in her housekeeping
ever since the world began ? The trou-
ble is that we have had ‘bachelors’
quarters” so long. And the sole occu-
pant has been so intent on his arma-
went, his argosies, his money-gathering
and labor saving, that he could not be
expected to minutely investigate and
care for his cupboards and cellars.
«It was morally certain’ that the
housewife, coming to her kingdom for
such a time as this, should begin by
peering about, looking tor herself into
the dust holes and vigorously taking her
broom to them. (“I thank thee, Jow,for
teaching me that word.”)
What is expected of you, oh, woman,
has now been made clear to you. You
will have only yourselves to blame if
things go wrong. This is the program :
Pry inte every dark corner of evil.
Trace bravely to its source every symp-
tom of moral disease, cry aloud every
menace of danger to the household’s
health, and spare not the spiritual plum-
bers and fitters that try to face you
down. Study the daily bills of fare
with a mother’s tender conscience, and
if there's death in the pot, say so in
plain words and without mincing wat-
ters. Watch thou in all things ; do the
work of an evangel, make full proof of
thy ministry.
May Mrs. Willard’s beautiful ser-
monette cause an arousement of woman
on both sides of the Atlantic. “Prying
into every dark corner of evil,” may net
be the most comfortable of occupants,
butin this way only can sin be era-
dicated.
Since writing the above, it has come
to our notice that living pictures have
already been introduced into a Chicago
theater, hence, it is high time that the
temperance women this side of the At-
iantic were joining their British sisters
for the extermination of this hideous
iniquity.— Union Signal.
ES
The A. P. A. and Catholicism,
Statistics Which are Interesting to Both Sides.
The opposition of the A. P. A. which
is organizing on this coast, against
Catholics and Catholicism, and the
strength which that organization is
gaining and promises to exert in poli-
tics, renders the Catholic directory for
1894, which has just been issued, giving
the statistics of the Roman Catholic
church in the United Sates, of unusual
general interest,
Every diocese furnishes its own fig-
ures. The Catholic population in many
of the dioceses is approximated, and in
the absence of exact figures the compil-
ers of the directory are unable tosay
just how many Catholics there are in
the United States. Tne directory gives
the number as 8,902,033, but Catholic
authorities claimed last year that there
are at least 12,000,000.
The country is divided into 14 ecclesi-
astical provinces, each of which has one
archdiocese and several dioceses. The
dioceses number 72. There are 17 arch-
bishops, including Cardinal Gibbons,
and 71 bishops.
In all the archdioceses and dioceses
there are 9717 priests, 7231 of whom
are secular clergymen and 2486 regular
clergymen, that is members of the orders
such as the Jesuits, Franciscans and
Redemporists. These priests preside
over 8729 churches and 5704 chapels
and stations, places where a resident
priest is not stationed. There are 8 un-
iversities and 25 secular seminaries, in
which 2075 youug men are studying for
the priesthood.
The priests of the religious orders
have 61 seminaries that are educating
1457 candidates for the regular priest-
hood as members of their orders. There
are 172 high schools for boys, 668 high
schools for girls and 8732 parochial
schools, which are attended by 765,388
children. In 258 orphans asylums 29,-
626 orphans are cared for. The charita-
ble institutions number 753. The total
number of children in Catholic institu-
tions is 860,356.
i ——
Successful Railroaders
Bottom.
Start at the
That there is a chance to risein the
railroad vocation is evidenced by some
interesting figures. Somebody has tak-
en the pains to look up the records of
128 general managers, taken at random
from the country at large, and it has
been discovered that no less than 105
worked their way from the bottom to
the top rounds of success. They com-
menced as clerks, operators, rodmen,
brakemen, etc. Cnly 53 began any-
where near the top of the ladder.
There is a great deal of moral in this.
It shows how the railway service bas
progressed of late years, and that, gen-
erally speaking, the way to get to the
top is not by favoritism or influence, but
by starting in at the bottom and just
climbing. While occasionally there
are rank instances of favoritism, cases
that cry aloud to heaven the unfitness
of the occupant of some position, placed
where he is by family or plutocratic in-
fluence, but such only go to prove that
the standpoint is personal fitness for
the position. The fact is, it is becom-
ing more and more necessary every year
in railroad work that every man must
stand on his own merits, or to borrow
that homely prover, every tub must
stand on its own bottom. The exigen-
cies of competition demand this. No-
where is the business race keener than
in the railroad worid, and the official
whe doesn’t know his business, or who
doesn’t look alive, so to speak, will be
distanced by his rivals and soon found
out. Itis comparatively necessary that
he be abreast of the times, or he will
get left.
——— What restless creatures the hu-
man family are. None seem to be satis-
fied with their lot and general sur-
roundings. One man is struggling to
get justice : some others are flying from
it. One man is saving to build a home;
another is trying to sell his building for
less than it cost to get rid of it. One
man spending all the money he earns in
taking a girl to the theatre and sending
her flowers in hopes of eventually mak-
ing her his wife while his neighbor is
spending all the gold he has to get a
divorce. The eastern man wants to go
west and the western man wants to go
east. The farmer wants to go into the
city and the city man wants to go into
the country. The man in trade wants
to get out and everybody not in trade
wants to be in. The old wants to be
young and the young want to get old,
ani so it goes.
I —————— A ———.—
——Among all our exchanges we do
not find any one of them that gives as
much attention to the good of the town
and the movements of the people in 1t
or those visiting here as do the home
papers. All three are public spivited
and anxious, it seems, to do the best all
round. The city papers do not record
the births of your children or write up
for future keeping and reference the bet-
ter side of the dead, and yet the people
who expect most from the local papers
usually send away for their job work
and urge others to do so. No better
work and no better prices can be had
out of town than right here Patronize
one of the home offices and help the
printers as they help you.
em——
— No other sarsaparilla has equaled
Hood's in the relief it gives in severest
cases of dyspepsia, sick headache, bil-
icusness, ete.
jeweler’s
For and A bout Women.
An imported dress of brown cawel’s
hair is an excellent model for street
dresses for girls of fourteen or sixteon
years. The drooping blouse front and
the skirt are cut in one piece, to be com-
pleted by a hort bolero jacket that
reaches low on the belt, and has for its
chief feature a large square collar of
yellow moire. The skirt, which fastens
in the back, is lined with percaline,
reaches the ankles, and has thres godet
folds in the back. The blouse front falls
in a box-pleat, stitched lengthwise, on a
bias belt of the moire. The little jacket
is of simple shape and has very large
sleeves,
The costliest fur in the markets of the
world is that of the sea otter, and it is
year by year becoming more expensive.
At the London spring sales of the pres-
ent year one of these beautiful skins
brought £210, and yet the size of it was
only about six feet long by two feet
wide.
The first step toward the revival of
the bustle has been taken. This is shown
in the new organ-pipe skirt. It is the
skirt of the season, and resembles in a
marked degree the bustle of the past.
The skirt is very full, lined with hair-
cloth, and arranged in four or two box
plaits at the back. These plaits stand
out prominently and are padded ten
inches from the waist line. Over the
hips the skirt fits with glove-like smooth-
ness, flaring toward the bottom.
Stock buckles are the vogue this fall.
The jewelers’ windows are filled with
them, and a stock of velvet caught in
front with a gold buckle is considered a
present not to ba despised. The buckles
are dainty, delicate affairs. Many of
them are of gold and enamel combined.
Heart-shaped buckles and golden circles
have taken the merry maids of Gotham
by storm.
Small side combs are worth the
consideration. A. pretty de-
sign seen had a row of stones set a3 if in
connecting squares. Lightly raised gold
tracery in amber combs is artistic. The
present mode of hair dressing promises
a continued use of these small side
combs.
Miss Ellen Dorteh, of Georgia, it is
said, will be rewarded for political work
by being made the Governor’s private
secretary. The position carries with it a
Major's commission. How will Miss
Major Dortch strike the Mugwamp
ear ?
To be clothed correctly a woman
must possess at least one costume in
rough goods, the pattern of which must
be either in checks or plaids. Beige
colorings are the most correct. though
there are some specimens shown that
rival a horse blanket, both in tone and
texture. Only a woman who was per-
fectly certain of her ability to carry off
such a frock should attempt anything of
this sort, and even then she ought to
own dozens of gowns entirely different
in character, unless she wishes to be
identified continually as the woman in
the jockey costume.
Quieter effects are much more elegant,
evidencing a perfect taste that has to be
imagined rather than felt in the choice
of the essentially “loud” designs which
edge them side by side. Camel's hair,
that standby favorite of our mother’s
time, now comes with an illuminated
ground, in which dull brown, green and
red mixes together in composite rich-
ness.
Silks are exceedingly chic, either for
street or evening wear. An especial
beauty, which comes in a half dozen
different colorings, has a background of
solid tint, with large and small dots
composed of fine black and white weav-
ings. This black and white mixture in
turquoise blue, eminence or T1038 is
particularly fetching.
To bezin with, there are going to be
some very stunning wraps seen on the
street. One which gives you an idea of
the eccentric sort of loveliness that will
prove attractive was of bluet broadcloth
with great applique figures of black sa-
tin studded with jets and the entire
front covered with broad double bands
of lynx, the same fur being used in the
trimming.
Feathers boas are a positive rage, and
1, for one, am really glad that they have
come to replace those little far neck
scarfs that were only stylish without
being pretty. When fur is used it is in
the form of a light band collar with
puffed-out pieces at the side, in exact
copy of the collarettes of velvet that
have lately sprung into favor.
The stock and belt buckles of gold
filigree, enamel and paste jewels are all
the rage. No lady feels that her ward-
robe is quite complete without one or
more. These buckles hold the crushed
stock collar with its puckered ends
standing up like fins on each side of the
chin. Some are heart shaped, some like
two crescents crossed, others like linked
rings, and some and perhaps the most
effective are just simply oblong golden
slides. The belt buckle can be put to so
many uses. It can to-day hold the feath-
ers on a felt hat, tonight drape up the
fluff of tulle and lace on a dancing frock,
tomorrow adorn the neck of the wearer
or hold a knot of ribbons on her cloak.
A handsome gold buckle is really a use-
ful adjunct, and if the fashion has not
died out before the holidays it will
make a suitable present forall your lady
friends and one well appreciated.
A new sort of epaulette is longer
than it is broad and 1s set in the armhole
and exteds over the entire top of the
arm. In fronttheend torms an exten-
sion in a line drawn straight across the
finger from arm to arm. When such:
a line marks the decollsttage the effect
is startling in its suggestion of extreme
width. The epaulettes are held up and
in stiff, smooth shapeby the rounding
of the big puffed sleeves beneath. Lace
finishes the edges of the epaulettes and
falls from the edge of the low neck.
There is every prospect that braid will
be very largely used during this season,
both on dresses and on coats The plain
sdirts will be trimmed with either one
very wide braid or three, or perhaps,
five narrower, and for this purpose
military braid will be very much in re-
quest.