(jn.
Bellefonte, Pa., Dec. [4, 1894.
JES’ FOR CHRISTMAS.
Father calls m’ William, sister calls me WIL
Mother calls me Willie—but the fellers call
me Bill!
Mighty glad I ain't & girl—ruther be a boy
Without them sashes, curls an’ things that's
worn by Fauntleroy! ; ;
Love to chawnk green apples an’ go swimmn
in the lake— 3
Hate to take castor-ile they give f'r belly-
che!
Most all the time the hull year round’ there
aint nq flies on me. :
But jes’ fore Christmas I'm as good as Ikin
be !
Got a yaller dog named Sport—sick 'em on the
cat ;
Fust thing she knows she doesn’t know where
she isat!
Got a clipper sled, an’ when us boys goes out
to slide :
‘Long sofes tiie grocery cart an’ we all hook
aride 3
But, sometimes, when the grocery man 18
worried and cross.
He reaches at me with his whip and larrups
up his hoss ;
An’ then I Jaff and holler: “Oh, you never
teched me!"
But jes’ fore Christmas I'm as good as I kin
be!
Gran'ma says she hopes that when I get to be
an
I'll be a missionerer like her oldes’ brother
Dan. :
As wuz et up by the cannibals that lives in
Ceylon’s isle. :
Where every prospeck pleases an’ only man is
vile :
But gran’ma she had never been to see a wild
west show, :
Or read the lite uy Daniel Boone,
guess she’d know. S
That Buffalo Bili an’ cowboys is good enough
or else IT
r me—
Except’ jes’ ‘fore Christmas, when I'm good
as I kin be!
Then ol Sport he hangs around, €o sollum
like an’ still—
His eyes they seem a.sayin’: “What’s er mat-
ter little Bill 2”
The cat she sneaks down off her perch, a-
wonderin’ what's become
Uy them two enemies uv hern that use ter
make things hum! ;
But I am so perlite and stick so earnest like
to biz.
That mother sez to father:
our Willie is I”
But father, havin’ been a
cions me,
When, jes’ ’tore
kin be !
“How improved
boy hisself, suspi-
Christmas, I'm as good as I
For Christmas with its lots an lots uv candies,
cakes an’ toys, J
Wuz made, they say, {'r proper kid
fr naughty boys! {
So wash yer face bresh yer hair,
yer p's and q's,
An’ don’t bust out yer pantaloons, an’ don’t
wear out yer shoes ; J
Say yessum tothe ladies and yessir to the men
An’ when they’s company don’t pass yer plate
f'r pie again; :
But thinkin’ uv the things you'd like to see
upcn that tree, I
Jes "fore Christmas be as good as you kin be!
—James Whitcomb Riley in the Ladies Ho me
Journal.
s, and not
and mind
TE —.
EPHRAIM'S PINCH.
BY REV. 8. BARING-GOULD.
A little to one side of the track that
leads to Widdecombe in the Moor and
that branches from the main artery
of travel which runs from Tavistock to
Moreton Hampstead, and thence to
Exeter, 18 an ancient tenement in the
midst of the waste, called Runnage.
spot ; the hills that fold about it to the
back and west afford sufficient shelter
for sycamores to have grown to a con-
siderable size—sycamore, the one tree
which will hold its own anywhere.
The tenants of. these holdings enjoy
great right by custom. The heir of
each and every one, on the death of
each and every tenant, has by custom
the privilege of inclosing eight acree of
the forest or waste ground, paying
therefore oue shilling annually to the
Crown and this inclosure is called a
new-teke. No wonder that the Duchy
of Cornwall does all in its power to rid
itself of these enroaching neighbors.
The new-take walls have wrought the
destruction of the rude stone monu-
ments ; avenues of upright stones, cir:
cles, cromleche, kistvaens, have been
ruthlessly pillaged, used as quarries
which have been handy. In a great
many cases the largest upright ones
have been seized upon as gateposts, or
thrown across leats and rivers as
bridges, or have been utilized to prop
up linwaye, and the lesser stones that
perhaps commemorate some insigni-
ficant tradesman, have been left, while
the great menhir cet up in honor of his
chief has disappeared. Sometimes the
builders of the new-take walls threw
down a great monolith with the inter}
tion of breaking it up, and then aban.
doned it because they found smaller
stones more handy ; sometimes they
transported such big stones part way
to the new wall, and cast it down, it
being too heavy for their arms to con-
vey any further. The marvel is that so
much still remains alter over a thou-
sand years of wanton ravage.
Runnage tenement house is new.
The ancient farm dwelling has been
rebuilt in recent timeg, but at the time
of our story the old dwelling was stand-
ing. 1t was a typical moor-house. A
gateway in a high wall of rude granite
blocks built up without mortar gave
access to a courtyard paved, very
small, into which all the windows of
the house looked. Here also, were the
outhouses, stables, pigstyes, the well
house, the peat store, the saddle and
farm implement houses. All opened
inward, and could be reached with
very little expcsure. The main door
of the dwelling did not open into the
kitchen, but nto a sort of barn in
which every sort of lumber was kept,
with the fowls roosting on the lumber.
Thie served as a workhouse for the
men on rainy or foggy days ; here they
could repair damaged tools, hammer
out nails and rivets, store potatoes,
nurse the sheep in ‘‘yeaning time,”
prepare the rushes for thatching. Here
at the end were heaped up high tothe
roof vast masses of dry bracken to
serve gs bedding, and in this, in bad
weather, the children played hide and
seek, and constructed themselves nests.
At Rununage at ove time lived the sub-
stantial tenant, Quintin Creeber, pay-
ing to the Crown a slight acknowledg-
ment, and thriving on the produce of
hs sheep end kme and horses, [Ie
tilled little grain, grew no roote. There
was always grass or hay for his beaste.
If the enow lay on the ground deep,
then only had he recourse to the hay-
rick, Wkat little grain he grew was
rye, and that was for the household
bread.
Quintin Creeber bad a daughter.
Cecily, or, as she was always called,
Sysly, a pretty girl with warm com-
plexion, like a ripe apricot, very full
soft brown eyes and the richest auburn
hair. Shewas lithe, strong, energetic;
she was Quintin’s only child ; his three
cons were dead. Ove had been killed
in a mine, one bad died of scarlet
fever, and the third had fallen into the
river in time of flood, and had aquired
a chill which bad carried him off.
Sysly would be the heir to Quintin—
inberit Runnage, his savings and the
right, on her father’s death, of inclos-
ing another eight acres of moore. On
the loss of his sons, Quintin had taken
into his service one Ephraim Weeks, a
young man, broad-shouldered, strong-
ly built, noted as a constructor of new-
take walls, Ephraim had a marvelous
skill in moving masses of granite
which could not be stirred by three
ordivary men. It was all knack, he
said, all done by pinching, that isto
say, by leverage. But he used more
than a lever—he employed rollers as
well. Without other than a ready
wit, and a keen estimation of weights
and forces drawn from experience,
Ephraim was able to move and get in-
to place blocks which two and even
three other men would avoid touch-
ing. He was not a tall man. but was
admirably set and proportioned. He
had fair hair and blue-gray eyes, a
grave, undemonstratiye manner, and a
rosolute mouth. ; :
Instead of wearing hair about his
face, it was Ephraim’s custom to shave
lip and cheek and chin ; the hair of
his head he wore somewhat Jong, ex-
cept only on two occasions when he
bad his hair mown by the blacksmith
at Widdecombe ; one of these was
Christmas, the other mid-summer.
Weekes entered : “there's the horse
gone lame, and we be out of flour.
What is to be done ? Sysly tells me
there hain’t a crumb of flour more in
the bin, and her wants to bake to
once.”
Maister,” said Ephriam, “I've wait-
ed as you said this second seven years.
The time be up to-day. Me and Sysly,
us ain’t changed our minds, not one
bit. Just the same, only us likes one
another a thousand times Jearer por
ever us did afore. Willy now give her
to me ?”
“Look’y here, Ephriam. Carry this
ack o’ rye on your back to Widde-
combe mill, and bring it home fnll 0’
flour—that was all he careed for.
In the room was Sysly. She had
heard all. She came oul; she saw
Ephriam tying up the neck of the sack.
“Help her up on my back, Sysly,”
said be.
“Eph !—you do not mean it! You
can't doit. It’s too much.”
He said : “Carry this sack to Wid-
decombe mill, and bring’n back full of
flour, and you shall have her.”
“It was a joke.”
«I don’t understand a joke. He
gaid it. He's a man of his work, straight
up and down.”
Sysly held the sack up. But her
heart misgave her.
“Eph,” she eaid ; “my father only
said that because he knew you couldn’
do it.”
“I can do it—when I see you before
me.”
“How do’y mean, Eph 2”
“Bring back the sack o’ flour, and
you shall have her.” Sys, I'd carr’ the
world on my back for that.”
He was strong, broad-shouldered,
and he started with his burden.
Sysly watched him with doubt and
unrest.
Was it possible that he could reach
Then for a while he was short-cropped;
but his bair grew rapidly again.
He was a quiet man who did not
speak much, reserved with the farmer,
and not seeking companionship at the
nearest hamlet of Post Bridge, where
was the tavern, the social heart of the
region.
Ephraim was the youngest son of a
small farmer at Waloa, a house with
a bit of Jand that had been parted off
from Runnage tenement at sone time
in the tenth century. Walna could not
maintain four men, beside the farmer
and his wife, consequently the young:
est, Ephraim, was obliged to seek work
away from the parental house; and he
had been employed repairing fallen
walls and constructing new Ones, till
Quintin Creeber had engaged him as a
laborer on his farm. Not for one mo-
ment had it occurred to the owner of
Runnage that this might lead to re-
cults other than those of business be-
tween master and man—that it was
possible Ephraim might aspire to
Sysly, and his daughter stoop to love
the laboring man. .
It was quite true that in the matter
of blood the Creebers and the Weekeses
tical a man to consider blood ; he looks
to position, to money. The husband
he bad in his eye for his daughter was
a man who had capital wherewith to
develop the resources of the farm, to
enlarge the mnew-takes, to break up
fresh soil, to buy well bred horses, and
double the number of oxen, and quad-
ruple that of sheep kept on the farm
and the moor over which he had free
right of common. Quintin would have
hesitated to take into his employ Kill-
eas, that is to say, Archelaus Weekes,
the eldest son of his neighbor at Walna,
a handsome fellow, with a song or a
jokealways in his mouth, who loved
to romp with the girls, who liked his
glass at the tavern ; but Ephriam was
different. What girl would care for
him, plain, silent, without wickedness
(i. e., mischief) in him, who never
made or understood a joke?
Sysly was aged seventeen when
Ephraim, a man of twenty three, came
into the service of Quintin Creeber. He
served faithfully for seven years, and
never gave the farmer cause to reproach
him for inactivity, was ever docile, ob-
liging and industrious. Such a mao
was not to be found elsewhere ; euch a
combination of great strength, skill and
sobriety, Creeber esteemed himself
most lucky in having such a servant.
Ephraim did more than two other men,
and never asked for increase of wage,
never grumbled at the tasks imposed
upon him.
When seven years were over, then
Sysly was twenty-four, and Epbraim
was thirty. There had come suitors
for the girl—among them the eldest
son of the farmer Weekes, the light-
hearted, handsome Killeas. She had
retused him. The young farmer of
Hexworthy had sued for her, and bad
been rejected, greatly to the wonder of
Quintin. Now. when the seven years
were over, then Ephraim, in his wonted
quiet, composed manner, said to the
owner of Runnage : ‘““Maister, me and
your Sysly likes one another, and we
reckon us’'ll make one. What sez you
to that, Maister 2"
Quintin stared, fell back in astonish-
ment, and did not answer for three
minutes, while be gave himself time
for consideration. He did not want to
lose a valuable servant. He had no
thought of giving him bis daughter.
So he said : “Pshaw ! you're both too
young. Wait anotherseven years, and
if you be in the mind then, you and
she, speak of it again.” Ephraim took
Quintin at his word, without a remoon-
strance, without an attempt to persuade
him to be more yielding.
He remained on another seven years.
Then Sysly was aged thirty-one, and
he—thirty-seven. On the very day
fourteen years on which be had en-
tered the house at Runnage, exactly
when theseven years were concluded,
at the end of which farmer Quintin bad
bid him speak of the matter again,
then Ephriam went inquest of him,
with the intent of again asking for
Sysly. He had not wavered in his de-
votion to her. She had refused every
guitor—for him. He found the old man
in the outer barn or entrance to the
house ; he was filling a sack with rye.
“I say—Epbriam,” he spoke, as
Widdecombe with such a burden ? If
he reached the mill, could he carry
back the sack of flour 2 She watched
bim down the bill, and across the
Wallabrook that gives it name Walna
(vow corrupted into Warner) to his
father's farm. Then ensued an ascent,
and she saw him toiling up the hill of
gooring, and there was froth on bis |
lips.
Paintin Creeber put his hand under
the sack. “By gum!” said he; *flour !"”’
It was even so. That man had car
ried the burden of rye to the mill, and
had come back with it in the condition
of flour.
Half-supporting the sack, the farmer
attended his man as he stumbled for-
ward, turned out of the road, and took
the track to Runnage.
Ephraim could not speak. He look-
ed out of his great, starting eyes at the
master, and moved his lips ; but foam ;
not words formed on them. They
were purple, cracked and bleeding. So
they went on till they reached the
farm. Then, in the outer chamber,
withouta word, Ephraim dropped the
sack and sank against it, and pointed
to Sysly, who appeared at the door.
«Gammon !” said Quintin; ‘you
weren't such a fool as to think to have
she ? Her's not for you—not tho’ you've
took the sack and brought'n back
again, Sysly—yours—never n
The man could not speak. He
sank, slippeddown, and tell before the
sack, that partly held him up. His
head dropped forward ou his breast.
«Look up, Ephraim; don’t be a
fool I" said the yeoman.
He was past looking up. He was
dead.
On the old ordnance map of 1809, I
see that the steep ascent up which
Weekes made his last climb, laden
with the sack of rye flour, is marked
as “Ephraim’s Pinch.”
As a moorman said: “That was a
pinch for Ephraim—snch a climb with
such a weight after nine miles; but
there was for he a worser pinch, when
old Creeber said, ‘It is all for naught.
You sha'n't have she.” That pinched
Ephraim’s heart, and pinched the life
out of he.”
But I observe on the new ordnance
of 1886 “Ephraim'’s Pinch” is omitted.
Can it be that the surveyors did not
think the name worth preserving ? Can
it be that Ephraim and his pinch are
forgotten on the moor? Alas! time
with her waves washes out the writing
on the sande. May my humble pen
Sousson’s Moor with the sack on his
back. Was there any avail in his uo-
dertaking this tremendous exertion ?
Surely her father, if he had intended
to give his consent, would not have
made it conditional on the discharge
of such a task ! Surely, if be had de-
signed to make Ephraim his son-in-
Jaw, he would not have subjected him
to such a strain | Was it not probable
that Ephraim would do himself an in-
jury in attempting this impossible
task ?
Sysly knew the resolution, the love
of the silent, strong-hearted man ; she
felt assured that. he would labor on
under his burden, toil up the steep
slopes—struggle, with perspiration
streaming, with panting lungs and
quivering muscles, up the great ridge
of Hamledon—that he would pursue
his purpose till nature gave way, Aad
fidence in the good faith of her father.
She watched Ephraim till the tears so
clouded her eyes that she could see the
patient, faithtul man no longer.
Hours passed, The evening came
on; and Quintin Creeber retarned to
the house.
“Where is Ephraim ?’ he asked. “I
want to have the mare blistered—she
can’t put a foot to the ground.”
“Ephraim is gone to Widdecombe,”
answered Sysly.
“To Widdecombe ? Who gave him
leave 2”
“Father, you told him to carry the
sack.”
Old Creeber stood aghast.
“To carry the sack o' rye!”
“You told him he was to take that
to the mill, and bring back flour.”
“It wae nonsense. I never meant it,
It was a put-oft. He can't do it. No
man can. He'll chuck the sack down
on the way and come back without it.”
“He'll never do that, father.”
Quintin Creeber was much aston-
ished. The man had taken him at his
word. The more fool he. He had at-
tempted the impossible. Well, there
was this advantage. When Weekes
returned without the flour or rye, he,
Quintin, would be able to laugh at him
and say : “You have not fulfilled the
condition, therefore—no Sysly for you.”
Quintin Creeber walked out of his
farm buildings and went to the Widde-
combe road.
“Pshaw,” said he, ‘the man is an
ass. He couldn’t do it. He should
have known that, and not have at-
tempted it.”
As he said these words to himself he
discerned in the evening glow over
Sousson’s Moor a figure descending the
path or road.
“By gum!" said the farmer, ‘it is
Ephraim. He's never dong it ; he has
come back beat—turned halfway. How
the chap staggers! By crock! he's
down, he's fallen over a stone. The
weight is too much for him descending.
I swear, if I didn’t know he were as
temperate as—as—no one else on the
moor, I'd say he were dru.k, he reels
80. There he is now at the bridge. Ha!
Le has set the sack down, aod is lean-
ing—his head on it. I reckon he’s just
about dead beat. The more fool he!
He should ha’ known I never meant
it. What! he's coming on again, Up
hill! That'll try him. Gum! a snail
goes faster. He has a halt every three
steps. He daren’t set down the sack ;
he'd never get her up on his back
again. There he is, down on one knee ;
kneeling to his pravers, be he? or tak-
ing his breath ? He's up again and
crawling on. Well, I recken this is a
pretty bit of a s'rain for Ephraim, up |
this steep ascent wi’ a sack o’ flour on |
his back, and four to five miles behind !
him.” !
The farmer watched the man as he |
toiled up the road, step by step ; it
seemed as if each must be the last, and |
he must collapse, go down in a heap at
the next. Slowly, however, he forged
on till he came up to Quintin, Then
the yeoman saw his face. Ephraim
was haggard, his eyes starting from his
head ; he breathed hoarsely, like one
gerve to preserve the memory of Eph-
raim and his Pinch.—The Independent.
Undesirable Immigrants.
The old country is still trying to
empty its weak, helpless and poor into
the generous lap of America in spite of
immigration laws made by the United
States in an attempt to put an end to
the practice.
That was a queer lot of passengers
which arrived at Philadelphia from Liv-
erpool on the steamship Ohio a few days
ago. Among them were one violent
case of insanity, a helpless mute, a
batch of weak-minded children and a
number of assisted immigrants, women
and children whose way to America
had been paid by the charitable socie-
ties of Hngland. Still another of the
assisted passengers had so little heart for
encountering the unknown life in the
naw world eferred the bottom
ot the sea |, that she De suiviue ull Lie
voyage. In all fifteen passengers were
returned to where they came from.
That assisted immigration should be
attempted on so large a scale would
seem to indicate that the charity
loving people of Europo, whose charity
does not begin at home, must succeed
in ridding their country even yet of &
great many people who are entirely un-
worthy of being permitted to come to
this country.
The only present remedy is the strict-
est possible interpretation of the laws
restricting immigration and a prompt
return to Europe of all persons who
should not be permitted to land here.
Butin the near future the lax laws
themselves should be made stricter. The
negligence of the country’s law-makers
in respect to this question has given
birth to & number of patriotic organizi-
tions whose votes and agitation in favor
of keeping America for Americans, or
for such Europeans as are fit to become
Americans, are at last beginning to make
an impression.
A Story About Sam Jones.
An amusing incident occurred at the
close of Sam Jones’ sermon at Pulaski
the other day. Stepping down from
the pulpit, folding his hands across his
breast and looking solemnly over the
audience, the great revivalist said :
«I want all the women in this crowd
who have not spoken a harsh word or
harbored an unkind thought toward
their husbands for a month past to stand
u 1
One old woman, apparently on the
shaddy side of 60, stood up.
“Come forward and give me your
hand,” said the preacher.
The woman did so, whereupon Jones
said :
«Now turn around and let this audi-
ence see the best-looking woman in the
country.”
After taking her seat the revivalist
addressed the men :
«Now I want all the men in this
crowd who have not spoken a harsh
word or harbored an unkind thought
toward their wives for & month past to
stand up.”
Twenty-seven great big strapping fel-
lows hopped out of the audience with
all the alacrity of champagne corks.
“Come forward and give me your
hands, my dear boys."
Jones gave each one a vigorous shake
after which he ranged all of them side
by side in front of the pulpit and facing
the audience. He looked them over
carefully and solemnly and then, turn-
ing around to the audience, he said :
«I want you all to take a good loook
at the twenty-seven biggest liars in the
state of Tennesesse.”’— Hartwall Ga.
Sun.
A Novelty.
Amateur Pop.
at my house.”
Veteran Pop “Is that so 77’
Amateur Pop. ‘You pet 1t is.”
“Veteran Pop “Well, you'll wish it |
was an old one before the winter 1s ov- |
er.'’— Detroit Free Press. |
i
“I've got a new baby
——The French senate, by a vote of |
967 to 3, adopted the Madagascar credit |
of 65,000,000 francs, |
Late News From the National Capitol.
W AasHINGTON, Dec. 10, '94.—No mes
gage ever written by President Cleve-
land was more attentively listened to
than the last onesentin ~~ The general
topics treated by the message, includ-
ing the foreign relations of the govera-
ment, were all that any democrat
could desire, and the financial recom-
mendations, could not be fully under-
stood antil covsidered in connection
with Secretary Carlisle's annnal report
gent to Congress the next day
which contains the details of the plan
for a reform of the currency of the
country which the President so s‘rong-
ly endorses in his message. What will
For and About Women.
Women in the state of New York,
exclusive of New Yord city, own $380,-
324,172. In 571 localities 143,713 wo-
men pay taxes on §120,000,000.
The blouse front grows in popularity,
and many of the most stylish frocks are
made in this way. Slender women af-
fect this style because their figures ob-
tain better proportions and the stouter
women disguise their embonpoint. The
blouse is confined to the front of the
corsage and 13 effected by adjusting the
drapery loosely. :
To sum up the general style observed
be the result of these financial recom-
mendations it will be impossible to say
until the sentiment of the Democrats
has had time to become apparent.
Speaker Crisp looked quite as good
natured when he rapped the House to
order as he could possibly have looked
had a majority of the House been as
fortunate as himselt in getting re-elect-
ed, and his own re-election to the
Speakership, been assured. Inleed the
most noticeable feature on the Demo-
the entirely too numerous empty chairs,
was the prevailing good nature of
thos: who were defeated last montb.
It the Republicans expected to see an
array of long faces they were disap-
pointed. ;
There have been a number of infor-
mal conferences of Democratic Sena-
tors and Representatives for the par-
pose ot discussing the probability of
reaching an agreement on a pro-
gramme for the session, and
there is some talk of holding a joint
caucus and requiring every man who
attends to pledge himself to stand by
whatever programme the caucus
adopts. If pledges could be secured
from a sufficient number to control
both House and Senate that would be
an excellent idea, but it is certain that
there are six or more Democratic Sena-
tors who would not pledge themselves.
Like numerous other fake stories,
that is asserting that President Cleve:
land was offended with Admiral
Walker because of the report he made
on affairs in Hawaii, has been die
proved in a striking manner by the of-
ficial order placing Admiral Walker at
the head of the Light House Board. a
position that is considered by the Na
val officers one of the most desirable
under the government. The President
seems to have a special liking for this
method of knocking out silly stories:
It is much better and far more convine-
ing than a stereotyped denial.
Treasury officials take no stock in
the stories that Congress will refuse to
appropriate the money needed to put
the income tax into operation, for the
very simple reason that there are no
more opponents of that tax in either
Senate or House than there were when
it was incorporated in the tariff bill.
That is the common sense view of the
matter. If the opponents of the tax
could not prevent its being included 10
vue LACIE Ul, tiey certainly cannot pre-
vent an appropriation to put it into ef-
fect. There is reason, too, for the belief
that Senator Hi!l, who led the fight
against the income tax in the Senate,
will not only refuse to aid in trying to
defeat the appropriation but will him-
self vote for it, as he is on record as op-
posing any and all attempts to embar
rass officials by withholding appropria-
tions asked for, to be used in carrying
out existing laws.
Representative Cooper, of Fla,
thinks the proper way to fill the office
of postmaster is to have him elected
by the voters of his town or township,
and he proposes to push a bill provid-
ing therefore. He is also strongly in
favor of the adoption ot some system
of currency reform that will give the
needed elasticity to our currency, eith-
er that proposed by Secretary Carlisle
or something else upon which a ma-
jority can get together, and of a bill
providing for the building of the Nic-
auraugua canal. He says that if he
could have his way he would make
this session of Congress, short as it
will be, memorable in the history of
the Democratic party. It's a pity
there are not more Democrats of the
same mind. :
Although nothing can be officially
stated, because no official action has
yet been taken, there is little room for
doubt that the sub-committee which
went to Cleveland, Ohio, to investigate
charges against Judge Ricks, of bav-
ing appropriated fees properly belong-
ing to the government to his own use,
will in its report to the full Judiciary
Committee of the House take the
ground that the charge was proven, in
fact virtually admiued by Judge Ricks
himself. Itis thought that the ques-
tion of whether impeachment proceed-
ings shall be instituted will be left for
the tull committee to decide. The
committee will make its report to the
House before the holidays, unless
something not now expected shall oc-
cur to prevent, and it is expected to
favor impeachment.
The sugar scandal has raised its ugly
head again, and the same Democratic
Senators whose names were 80 con-
spicuously smirched during the prepa-
ration of the sugar schedule of the
tariff bill are again figuring in the ru-
mors in a manner that is decidedly un-
pleasact to Democrats generally, how-
ever the trio of Senators may look at
the matter. Many Democrats are in
favor of seitling this business for good
and all by just putting all sugar on the
free list.
—— Li Hung Chang is said to be a
Croesus, his wealth being estimated at
500,000,000 dollars. They may take
his peaccck feather, his yellow vest, his
pig tail and what not, he will not be
penriless, homeless and friendless. The
poor fellow ought to be able to live very
comfortably on what he has left by
practicing a little economy.
—— English government leaders, fear-
ing a revival of the Fenian movement,
are being shadowed by detectives.
———Read the WATCHMAN.
cratic side of the House, aside from |
at this great opportunity for the display
| of the new gowns and gew-gaws of fash-
lion, I may say; Sleeves are the larg-
| est part of the woman, and the varia-
| tions upon thegigot are more in evi-
| dence than the baloons, though they
come next. Nearly all the sleeves are
| one of the otber style. The waists are
\ various and every one differs from its
| neighbors. . Lace is as popular as ever,
. and jet apparently more so. Fur, na-
| turally, on account of the season, is seen
on almost everything, and the organ or
trumpet plaited skirt is the favorite-
This is the skirt that stands out so = well
that where it 18 cut in walking length it
balances in a wonderful style—a rather
taking one, though. Velvet, silk, bro-
! cade, corded and plain venitian, and
| crepon in all variations, and all its ver-
jations, and all the woolen winter dress
fabrics, form but part of the infinite
number of gowns commonly seen.
I might mention that bits of acces-
sories in the shape of fans are very small;
that shoes and slippers are pointed to a
ridiculous degree, and that slippers are
worn with silken and other similar
gowns, while boots, often with ‘spats,’
are seen with the tailor costumes. Waists
are trimmed with flat collars or yoke
pieces formed of black or white lace, al-
ways contrasting sharply, or with a
fancy arrangement of beaded passemen-
terie in black, pearl or irridescent
beads. Some of the popular hats are of
polished silk plush bound with black
Persian, others are of roughish beaver,
others of velvet over a stiff but marvel-
ously bent and twisted foundation edged
with a plait of velvet and gold orsilver
braid. Some bonnets are of velvet
faced with some other color and twisted
and plaited up into massive but irreg-
ular folds and finished off with bunches
of holly berries and black plumes. Or
perbaps there will be a curled black
plume.
Let me start again, then, by asserting
that all hair is pretty that looks as if it
had good care—as it were washed at
least once in three or four weeks, as if
it were brushed daily, red, most impor-
tant of all, as if were not burned. Nine-
tenths of womankind spit the ends, if
they do not crisp the entire length of
| their bangs by over heating the curling
irons in their zeal to get through
thoroughly and quickly, whereas a les-
ser degree of heat, a little longer applied,
will do the curling as effectually, and at
the same time leave the hair soft and
pliable. Hair that is habitually over
heated fndeed becomes more and more
difficult to curl, until at last there is
really nothing for it but to crisp, it, if
you would have it take tne slightest
semblance of a curve.
Don’t either ever cut off the hair at
the nape of the neck ; for some reason
as not yet understood by femininity, it
never grows out nicely again, but re-
mains short and straggling to the end of
one’s day during which period there are
liable to be moments when one would
prefer not to have twine-like wisps of
hair escaping down one's back, but
would hike instead, the pretty line of
demarcaration between the hair and the
white neck, clear and well defined.
With the first really cold days muffs
appeared and the early crop was a dain-
ty lot, open to fully as much criticism
as to the protectiou afforded as elbow
length capes of the sort sketched. Many
of them were mere nothings of lace,
flowers and fur. Some folks think them
pretty. Others—though they are the
ones who haven’t such muffs—think
they look as if the dressmaker had been
ordered to return the pieces, and had
done so in a little bundle of odds and
ends, which was being carried by mis
take, for a muff.
The Russian garland bids fair to su
persede the heretofore popular shower
bouquet for bridesmaid’s use. They are
slung over the arm and fall to the hem
of the skirt. Those thus carried at a re-
cent wedding were of entwined roses
and buds, and hung from a band of rose~
satin ribbon which rested on the arm in
a butterfly bow.
Miss Dora Wells is owner and purser
of the Puget Sound steamboat Delta,
which runs from Whatcomb to the San
Juan Islands and Victoria, B. C. three
times a week. She collects fares, makes
contracts for freight, and tukes a hand
in navigating the steamer.
Irish frieze is quite a fashionable ma-
terial just now. I sawsucha pretty
gown roade of gray, and the skirt was
beautifully cut and hung with a pleas-
antly rustling silk lining. The bodice
bad a small shaped basque not coming
quite to the front, and large sleeves
with a deep collar forming also revers,
which were bordered with silver and
opened from a beautifully-fitting waist-
coat of white cloth, with three lines of
jet and steel passementerie upon it and
having the collar also bordered with
passementerie. The frieze was outlined
with a little steel edging and the cut
and fit were inimitable.
Chiffon bodices are being worn for even-
ing dress, as nothing else looks so smart
and dressy They are, however, made
seasonable by additions of fur in small
quantities, and lace as well as ribbon,
and often a paste buckle or two. The
favorite colors are pale green, pale pink
and a shade which is [nicely balanced
between mauve and pink,
Many of the most artistic gray gowns
of the winter have large sleeves of soft
brown velvet. On no other color does
chincilla seem to look as well as on
brown.