Denisrraiic atc
Bellefonte, Pa., dan. iil, 1895.
THE ISLE OF BOREDOM,
As you sail through life take pains and steer
Away from the island that lies too near—
The isle of Boredom, which all men fear.
The island sets up like a shelf of rock,
But woe to the sailor who lands at the dock
And offers the people a chance to talk.
For they talk all night, and they talk all day,
And try as you will to get away
They pin you down, and they make you stay.
They talk of things they have done and said:
They talk you awake, and they talk you tobed
Till you aimost wish they would talk you dead
And the queerest thing and the one to deplore
About the dwellers upon that shore—
Not one of them knows that he is bore.
So steer away from that island shelf
That is governed, hey say, by a wicked elf,
Lest you be a bore and no knowt it yourself.
—Ella Wheeler Wilcox in Youth's Companion.
MAN-SIZE IN MARBLE.
When we were married we knew
quite well that we should only be able
to live by “strict punctuality and at-
tention to business” I used to paint
in those days, and Laura used to
write, and we felt sure we could keep
the pot at least simmering.—Living in
town was out of the question, so we
went to look for a cottage in the
country. Our search was for some
time quite fruitless.
But when we got away from friends
and house agents, on our honeymoon,
our wits grew clear again, and we
knew a pretty cottage when at last we
saw one. It was at Benzett—a little
village set on a hill over against the
Southern marshes. We had gone
there from the seaside village where
we were staying, to see the church,
and two fields [rom the church we
found this cottage. It stood quite by
itself, about two miles from the village.
It was a long, low building, with
rooms sticking out in unexpected pla-
ces. After a brief examination we
took it, for it was absurdly cheap.
The rest of our honeymoon we spent
in grubbing about in secondhand
shops in the country town, picking up
bits of old oak and Chippendale chairs
for our furnishing. Soon the low-
beamed, lattice-windowed rooms began
to seem quite homelike. We were as
happy as the summer was glorious,
and settled down into work sooner
than we ourselves expected.
We got a tall old peasant-woman
as servant. Her face and figure were
good, though her cooking was of the
homeliest.
We had three months of married
happiness, and did not have a single
quarrel. One October evening I had
been down to smoke a pipe with the
doctor—our only neighbor—a pleas-
ant young Irishman. Laura had
stayed at hometo finish a comic sketch
of a village episode for the Monthly
Marplot. 1 left her laughing over her
own jokes, and came in to find her a
crumpled heap weeping on the window
seat.
“Good heavens! my darling, what's
the matter ?’’ I cried.
“It’s Mrs. Dorman,” she sobbed.
“She says she must go before the end
of the month, and she says her niece
is ill, but I don’t believe that’s the
reason, because her niece is always ill.
I believe some one has been setting
her against us. Her manner was go
queer—"'
“Never mind, dear,” I said ; what
ever you do, don’t cry. I'll speak to
Mrs. Dorman and see if I can’t come
to terms with her. Perhaps she wants
a raise in her wages. It will be all
right. Let us walk up to the church.”
The church was a large and lonely
one, and we loved to go there, espec-
ially upon bright nights. A large,
low porch let one into the building by
a Norman doorway and a heavy oak
door studded with iron. Inside the
arches rose into darkness, and between
them the reticulated windows, which
stood out white in the moonlight. In
the chancel, the windows were of rich
glase, which showed in taint light their
noble coloring and made the black oak
of the choir pews hardly more solid
than the ehadows. Bat on each side
of the altar lay a gray marble figure
ofa knight in full plate armor lying
upon a low slab, with hands held up
in everlasting prayer, and these figures
oddly enough, were always to be seen
if there was any glimmer of light in
the church. Their names were lost,
but the peasants told of them that they
had been fierce and wicked men, ma-
rauders by land and sea, who had
been the scourge of their time and had
been guilty of deeds so foul that the
house they had lived in—the "big
house, by the way, that had stood on
the site of our cottage—had been
stricken by lightning and the ven-
geance of heaven.
We walked to the chancel and
looked at the sleeping warriors.—
Then we rested some time on the stone
seat in the porch, and at last went
home.
Mrs. Dorman had come back from
the village, and I said, when I had got-
ten her into my painting room‘ “what’s
all this about your not staying with
us? Are your wages not high
enough ?"’
“No, gir; I gets quite enough.”
“Then why uot stay ?”’
“I’d rather not”’—with some hesita-
tion—‘“my niece is ill.”
“But your niece has been ill ever
since we came. Can you not stay for
another month ?"’ I asked.
“No, sir; I’m bound to go by Thurs-
day.”
And this was Monday !
“Well, must say I think you
might have let us know before. Why
must you go this week ? Come, out
with it.”
Mrs. Dorman drew the little shawl,
which she always wore, tightly across
her bosom, as though she were cold.
Then ghe said with a sort of effort,—
“They sav, sir, as this was a big house
in Catholic times, ani there was many
deeds done here”
“Tell me all about it, Mrs. Dor-
man,” I said; ‘you needn’t mind
about telling me. I'm not like the
young people who make fun of such
things.”
“Well, sir”’—she lowered her voice—
“you may have seen in the church,
beside the altar, two shapes. , I mean
them two bodies, drawed out man-gize
in marble,” she returned, I and had to
admit that her description was a thous-
and times more graphic than mine.
“They do say, 88 on All Saints’ Eve
them two bodies sits up on their slabs,
and gets oft of them, and then walks
down the aisle, in their marble, and as
the clock strikes eleven they walk out
of the church door, and over the bier-
walk, and ifit’s a wet night they comes
back here to their home, sir, and if
anyone meets them—"’
“Well, what then?” I asked.
But no—not another word could I
get from her. I could get nothing but
| warnings.
“Whatever yon do, sir, lock the
door early on All Saints’ Eve, and
make the cross sign over the doorstep
and on the windows, And I'm sorry
to inconvenience you and your lady,
but I must go on Thursday.”
I did not tell Laura the legend of
the shapes that “walked in their mar-
ble, ’because the legend concerning our
house might. perhaps trouble my wife.
I had very soon ceased to think of the
legend, however. I was painting a
portrait of Laura, against the lattice
window, and I could not think of much
else. On Thusday Mrs. Dorman went.
Thursday passed off pretty well.
Friday came. Everything that hap:
pened on that day is burned into my
brain I got up early, I remember,
and lighted the kitchen flre. We pre-
pared breakfast together, and found it
very good fun. We spent the day in
dusting our books and putting them
straight, and dined gayly on steak and
coffee. Laura was, if possible, bright-
er, and gayer and sweeter than usual,
and I began to think that a little do-
mestic toil was really good for her.
We had never been so merry since we
were married, and the walk we had
that afternoon was, I think, the hap-
piest time of all my life ; and we came
back to the house.
We spent a happy hour or two at
the piano, and about half past ten I
said, “I'll take my pipe outside.”
I strolled out of the front door, leav-
ing it unlatched. What a night it
was! The jagged masses of heavy
dark clouds were rolling at intervals
from horizon to horizon, and thin
white wreaths covered the stars,.—
Across the meadows I could see the
church tower standing out black and
gray against the sky. I walked there
thinking over our three months of
happiness—and of my wife, her dear
eyes, her loving ways.
I heard a bell beat from the church
Eleven already! I turned to go in,
but the night held me. I could not go
back into our little warm rooms yet.
I looked in at the low window as I
went by. Laura was half lying on
her chair in front of the fire. I could
not see her face, only her little head
showed dark against the pale blue
wall. She was quite still.— Asleep no
doubt. My heart reached out to her
as I went on.
I walked s'owly along the edge of
the wood. A soand broke the stillness
of the night—it was a rustling in the
wood. I stopped and lietened. The
sound stopped too. I went on and
now distinctly heard another step
than mine answer mine like an echo.
It was a poacher or a wood stealer,
most likely, for these were not un-
known in our Arcadian neighborhood.
But whoever it was, he was a fool not
to step more lightly. I turned into
the bier-walk and passed through the
corpse gate between the graves to the
low porch. I paused for a moment on
the stone seat. Then I noticed that
the door of the church was open, and I
blamed myself for having left it un.
latched the other night. I went in.
It will seem strange, perhaps, that I
should have gone halt way up the
aisle before [ remembered—with a sud-
den chill, followed by as sudden a
rush of self contempt—that this was
the very day and hour when, accord
ing to tradition, the “shapes drawed
out man-size in marble” began to
walk,
Having thus the legend, I could not
do otherwise than walk up toward the
altar, just to look at the figures—as 1
said to myself; really what I wanted
was to assure myself, first, that I did
not believe the legend, and second, that
it was not true. With my hands in
my pockets I passed up the aisle. In
the gray dim light the Eastern end of
the church looked larger than usval
and the arches above the two 1ombs
looked larger, too. The moon came
out and showed me the reason. I
stopped short, my heart gave a leap
that nearly choked me and then sank
sickeningly.
“The ‘bodies drawed out man-size’
were gone. and their marble slabs lay
wide and bare in the vague moonlight
that slanted through the East window.
Were they really gone? or was I
mad ? Clenching my nerves, I stooped
and passed my hand over the smooth
slabs and felt their flat, unbroken sur-
face. Had some one taken them
away? Was it some vile practical
joke? I would make sure, anyway.
In an instant I had made a torch of a
newspaper which happened to be in
my pocket, and lighting it, held it
high above my head. Its yellow glare
illuminated the dark arches and those
slabs. The figures were gone.
And then a horror seized me, a hor-
ror undefinable and. indiscribable. I
flung down the torch and tore along
the aisle and out through the porch. I
leaped the churchyard wall and took
the straight cut across the fields, led
by the light from our windows. Just
as I got over the first stile,;a dark
ficure seemed to spring out of the
ground, Mad still with that cer-
tainty of misfortune, I made for the
thing that stood in my path, shouting
“Get out of the way, can't you 2”
But my push met with a more vigor-
ous resistence than I had expected.
My arms were caught just above the
elbow and held as in a vice, and the
raw-boned Irish doctor actually shook
me.
“Let me go, you fool,” I gasped.
“The marble figures have gone from
the church ; I tell you they’ve gone,”
He broke into a ringing laugh.
“I'll have to give ye a draught to-
morrow, I see. Ye've bin smoking
too much and listening to old wives’
tales. Come back with me we'll look
at the church, and let me see the bare
slabs.”
“You go if you like,” I said, a little
less frantic for his laughter ; I'm going
home to my wife.”
“Rubbish, man,” said he ; are ye to
go saying all ver life that ye've seen
solid marble endowed with vitality,
and me to go all my life saying ye
were a coward? No sir, ye shan’t do
it.”
The night air, a human voice, and I
think also the physical contact with
this six feet of solid common sense,
brought me back a little to my ordi-
nary self, and the word “coward” was '
a mental shower bath.
“Come on, then,” I said perhaps;
you're right.”
He still held my arm tightly. We
got back to the church and walked up
the aisle. I am not ashamed to con-
fess that I shut my eyes ; I knew the
fizures would not be there. I heard
Kelly strike a match.
“Here they are, ye see, right enough;
ye've been dreaming or drinking, ask-
ing yer pardon for the imputation.”
I opened my eyes. By Kelly's ex-
piring vesta, I eaw two shapes lying
“in their marble” on their slabs, I
drew a deep breath and caught his
hand.
“I am awfully indebted to you,” I
said, “It must have been some trick or
light, or I have been working rather
hard, perhaps that's it. Do you
know I was quite convinced they were
gone.”
“I'm aware of that, he answered,
grimly ; “ye’ll have to be careful of
that brain of yours, my friend, I as-
sure you.”
He was leaning over and looking at
the right hand figure, whose stony
face wore the most villainous and
deadly expressipn.
“By Jove!” he said, ‘something
has been afoot here, this hand is brok-
en,”
And so it was. I was certain that
it had been perfect the last time that
Laura and I had been there.”
“Perhaps some one has tried to re-
move them,” said the young doctor.
“Come along,” I said, “or my wife
will be getting anxious. You'll come
in and have a drop of whisky and
drink confusion to ghosts and better
sense to me.”
“All right, I'll come back with ye.”
I think he fancied I needed him.
So discusssing how such an illusion
could have been possible, and deduct-
ing from this experience large gen-
eralities concerning ghostly apparition,
we walked up to our cottage. We
saw, as we walked up the garden path,
that a bright light streamed out of the
front door, and presently saw that the
parlor door was open, too.
“Come in,” I said, and Doctor Kel-
ly followed me into the parlor. It
was all ablaze with candles, not only
the wax ones, but at least a dozen gut-
tering, glaring tallow dips, stuck in
vases and ornaments in unlikely pla-
ces. Light, I knew was Laura's
remedy for nervousness. Poor child !
Why had I left her? Brute that I
was,
We glanced around the room and
at first did not see her. The window
was open and the draught set all the
candles flaring one way. Her chair
was empty and her handkerchief and
book lay on the floor. I turned to the
window. There, in the recess of the
window, I saw her, Ob, my child,
my love! had she gone to the window
to watch for me? And what had
come into the room behind her? To
what had ehe turned with that look of
frantic fear and horror?
She had fallen back across a table
in the window and her body lay half
on it and half on the window seat, and
her head hung down over the table,
the brown hair loosened and fallen to
the carpet. Her lips drawn back and
her eyes wide, wide open. They saw
nothing now. What had they seen
last ?
The doctor moved toward her, but I
puehed him aside and sprang to her.
I caught her in my arms and cried,
“It’s all right, Laura, dear! I've
got you safe.”
She fell into my arms in a heap. I
clasped her and kissed her and cdlled
her by all her pet names, but I think I
knew all the time that she was dead.
Her hands were tightly clenched. In
one of them she held something fast.
When I was quite sure that she was
dead, and that nothing mattered at all
any more, I let him open her band to
see what she held.
It was a gray marble finger.
The Jewish New Year.
Rose Hashonah is the Jewish New
Year. Two days are celebrated, in ac-
cordance with the custom of the old
Jews, who were uncertain as to the
exact date of the New Year because of
the confusion in which they found the
calender. They celebrated two days so
as to be sure not to miss the right one.
The Reformed Jews celebrate but one
day—the first—which fell on Sept. 11
in the year 1893. Rosh Hashonah
means the feast of trumpets. Accord-
ing to the Jewish chronology, this is
the year 5654. The head woman in
every Jewish household lights three
candles at the first appearance of the
three stars,
On New Year the ram's horn is
sounded in the Jewish synagogues, the
significance of which is to remind the
people that the new year is being usher-
ed in ; that new resolutions may be
formed and preparations made to live
better during the year.
The ceremonies are also preparatory
to the more solemn day of atonement—
the 10th day of the month Tishni.
——Do you read the WATCHMAN,
No One Can Escape.
He met Mrs. Dr. Sherlock Holmes and She Was
His.
All of a sudden she turned to the man
in the street car on her left and said :
“You were putting down an ingrain
carpet at your house this morning.
Don’t attempt to deny it, for I have the
most conclusive evidence !’?
“How do you know ?’ he stammered
in surprise.”
“There is lint on your knees, sir,
showing the kind of carpet, and your
thumb is done up in a rag to prove that
you hit it with the hammer. You
have a bunion on your left foot. Deny
it at your peril I”
“Yes, I have a bunion, but’”’—
“I knew it, because you can’t keep
that foot still, while n. w and then you
utter a cuss word below your breath.
You are living with your second wife.
Admit the truth of what I say or take
the consequences !”’
“How on earth can you tell that?”
he asked as he began to turn pale
around the mouth.
“By the hairs and dandruff on your
coat. Your first wife always brushed
you before you went out. Now, sir,
you have a small child at home.”
“Yes, a little boy 8 years old, but’’—
*I knew it, because he shoved that
jumping jack into your pocket while
you were playing with him just before
you came out. You are also an absent-
minded man. Denial will be useless
and may get you into serious trouble.”
Hf?
“If you were not an absentminded
man, you would not have pocketed that
table napkin for a handkerchief nor
come out with your old hat on. While
your first wife has been dead for several
years, you have not yet placed a tomb-
stone at her grave. Don’t try to bluff
me, sir |”
“You are right, but”? —
“Of course I am. When we passed
that marble shop, you gave one look at
the tombstones and placed your hand on
your wallet. Your present wife “is not
domestic.”
“No, she is not, but how on earth
can you tell. 7”?
“The moths have eaten your coat,
there are two buttons off your vest, and
from the way you wiggle that right foot
I’m sure you have holes in your stock-
ing. Think not to deceive me !”’
“Great lands, woman,” he gasped as
the perspiration stood out on his fore-
head, ‘but yon must be’’—
“Mrs. Dr. Sherlock Holmes, sir,” she
finished. “I have to get out here to
solve a mystery in a butcher shop.
Blood has been found on a cleaver, the
buther’s wife has got a new sealskin
sack, and the errand boy has a boil on
his leg. ’Sdeath ! I will unravel the
whole affair in five minutes and spot the
murderer | Good day, old man. By
the way don’t use sandpaper on your
celluloid collar, as it leaves scratches !’’
New System of Grading.
W. J. Shearer, superintendent of the
public schools of New Castle, Pa., has
introduced a new system of grading pu-
pils which has been in successful opera-
tion in that city for two years. He be-
lieved that in the manner ot grading
and promoting was to be found the
weakest point in our public schools and
his system is the result of special study
of the subject. His object isto do away
with the ‘iron clad’ system of yearly
grades and to give something more
pliant. This is attempted by removing
the cause and dividing each grade into
small classes, according to ability, with
but a short interval between the classes
go that pupils may easily pass from class
to class, as they are able.
One excellent feature of the new sys-
tem is the abolition of the examination
period, looked forward to with dread by
teachers and pupils, His reasons for
thinking the final examination is not
best for the children are gived at length
in the forthcoming Pennsylvania
School Journal, and may be briefly stat-
ed as follows :
It is a test of memory rather than of
power. It may show some things the
pupil does not know, but does not show
what the pupil does know. It destroys
and prevents broad and intelligent
teaching, makes out of the teacher a
“grind’’ and turns out ‘‘machine pupils.”
It forces many to take far more than
they can grasp or understand and causes
many to leave school. It brings unnec-
cessary mental worry to the nervous
ones who often fail to pass, while the
less worthy succeed. It is a great temp-
tation to deceit, It demands cne third
more time than is necessary to give as
much knowledge and better training.
It does not put a premium upon the
work done day by day, during the year,
but upon the amount of stuffing that
can be done at the end of the year. It
is the cause and bulwark of the attempt-
ed uniformity and the great obstacle in
the way of such a system of grading, as
will make possible to suit the school to
the pupil. It is useless, for every teach-
er knows before the examination, what
the result of the examination should be
For these reasons, we believe the final
examination is a moral injustice to the
pupil and teacher, one of the worst edu-
cational blunders, a psychological ad.
surdity, and should be abandoned for
some system similar to that now in use
in this city.
Rival Shows.
James B. Bailey, “Nate’’ Salisbury
and W. F. Cody have formed a part-
nership to consolidate the Wild West
and Forepaugh shows next season, with
a capital of $1,000,000. The new part-
ners will have no interest in the Bar-
num and Bailey show. This is a slap
at Barnum & Bailey’s circus, as the
public will now be able to witness the
great Forepaugh show and the wild
west, all for the sum of a half a dollar.
Forest Fire Incendiaries.
Dr. J. T. Rothrock, forestry commis-
sioners, says there is probably not a sin-
gle incendiary undergoing punishment
for starting forest fires, and that all our
legal enactments are in public contempi
because they are never enforced.
Very Severe on Him,
Gus de Smith—Ah, Miss Birdie. I
weally fear I fatigue you.
Birdie McGinnis--I would not be so
rude, Mr. de Smith, as to contradict
you.— Tammany Times.
Japan is Impatient.
Has grown Weary With Waiting for China to
Close the Negotiations. —May Declare them off.
Hinted That Conditions First Proposed Will
not Be Accepled.—The Army Has not Been
Asleep. Ready at Any Time to Still Further
Demonstrate Their Strength. The Annexation
Idea Is Favored.
It is the belief of officials in a position
to know the statue of affairs between
Japan and China, that Japan will de-
clare the peace negotiations off unless
China hasten them. There is increas-
ing irritation on the part of Japan be-
cause of the delays in presenting definite
peace proposals.
More than a month has passed since
it was agreed that a tender of peace con-
ditions would be considered by Japan,
and as yet the conditions have not been
offered, and there is doubt as to China’s
plenipotentiaries having the right to
make any final offers. At one time the
general understanding was that the ba-
sis of peace would be a cash indemnity
and the independence of Korea, and the
work of the plenipotentiaries was to set-
tle the exact amount and terms of the
cash indemnity.
Now, however, there is an intimation
that Japan may no longer accept the
two conditions first proposed, but may
insist also on China’s ceding extensive
territories, probably the Island of For-
mosa, or the valuable strategic points of
Port Arthur or Wei-Hei- Wei, or a por-
tion of Manchuria, already occupied by
Japan.
Opinion differs in Japan as to which
piece of territory should be demanded.
This annexation sentiment is uriversal,
and it is believed Japan will soon make
it known to China, probably through
Minister Dun at Tokio, that the pro-
crastination in presenting the terms of
settlement is such that the negotiations
will be abandoned unless closed within
a reasonable and definite time.
In the meantime there are evidences
that Japan is preparing for an aggres-
sive military movement calculated to
impress China and the plenipotentiaries
with Japan’s ability to increase the ad-
vantage she has already secured.
A gentleman who has been some
years in diplomatic service in China,
and is a recognized authority on inter-
national custom, points out that it is an
invariable rule’ with China not to grant
absolute power to her plenipotentaries,
but merely to confer advisory powers on
them.
Detectives Made Love.
To a Pretty Girl Who Finally Told of an Illicit
Distillery.
HAzLETON, PA., Jan. b5.—George
Hess, a moonshiner, was captured and
brought to this city to-day by Chief of
Police Hampton and U. S. Marshal
John W. Walker, of Pittsburg. Hess
has been conducting an illicit distillery
in the mountains near Hobby for a year
An officer attended a dance two weeks
ago. Among the girls there was
Amanda Shive. There was lots of
cheap whiskey on hand. The detective
was convinced that she knew something
of the distillery and made love to her.
He ingratiated himself into her confi-
dence. The result was that Miss Shive
told the spy that George Hess, of the
Valley, was making whisky on the
mountain near Hobby.
With this clew the officers started out
in search of Hess. Hess was captured
and taken before United States Com-
missioner Hill here. = Amanda Shive
was also taken before the Commissioner
and testified against Hess.
——The wild rush for office at the
opening of the Legislature is uonprece-
dented. There are from ten to twenty
applicants for every position, from the
highest to the lowest. So great is the
rush that the leaders, who are supposed
to be able to divide the official pap
among the hungry applicants, are at
their wits end, and the bigger tycoons
are compelled to hide from the hordes
to keep from being run over. The prop-
osition that successful seekers for
places should divide their salaries with
one or two who may miss connection,
causes a great deal of kicking. Any-
body who is an uninterested witness of
the scramble will agree with Mr. Jef-
ferson, who once said ‘The post of hon-
or is the private station.” Yet there
are hundreds of men who would rather
carry in wood or shovel coal for the
Commonwealth than to earn better
wages, and retain their independence
and self-respect, in a private capacity.
Official place, however menial, is a big
thing in the eyes of the perennial office
seeker.
-—-There is likely tobe a call on
Irish Americans for help for ‘the folks
at home.”” as there is something like a
famine prevailing among the peasantry
of the west of Ireland by reason of the
failure of this year’s potato crop. The
chief secretary for Treland has officially
notified the cabinet that the distress is
urgent and that means should be im-
mediately taken to alleviate the suffer-
ing. According to the Dublin papers
the calamity is widespread, people are
starving, and any relief under the poor
laws is wholly inadequate for the emer-
gency. There must be in America, the
New York ‘Sun’ estimates, a million
of immigrants from the most seriously
afflicted region of Ireland by the pres-
ent calamity, which includes the coun-
ties of Sligo, Galway, Connemara,
Mayo and Clare. It is advised they
take measures for relief, either by send-
ing an agent over to gather information,
or what would probably be better, seek
the advise of the archbishop of Tuam,
who is cognizant of the facts. On this
they could cable relief in a very short
time. Electricity annihilates space in
works of charity as well as other under-
takings.
—— Contributor. — “Pretty poem,
isn’t it ?”
Magazine Editor.-—'‘Yes, very; but
we can’t publish it.”
Contribusor.—*“Why not ?”
Magazine Editor. — “Why, anybody
can tell at the first reading precisely
what it means.” — Somerville Journal.
-——John Ford a colored carpenter of
Augusta, Ga., has named his four sons
Jay Gould, Vanderbilt, Rockefeller and
Phil Armour.
For and About Women.
Miss E. V. Askew, of Tampa, Fla.,
is a stenographer and typewriter with a
record to be proud of. In a document
of 100 pages of legal cap sent up to the
Supreme Court of the State there was
not one erasure, omission, or mistake in
punctuation.
—
Tbe daughter of Jefferson Davis,
Miss Varina Anne Davis, but whom
her friends will always know as “ Win-
nie, the daughter of the Confederacy,”
has just finished her first novel, and un-
der its title of “The Veiled Doctor” it
will be published within a fortnight.
The flower bonnet of the hour is a
novelty. It usually consists of a sin-
gle nodding flower, which appears to
be growing from the high coil of hair.
The bonnet’s sole foundation is a soft
coil of velvet. The flower is caught at
the back. One shows a twist of pink
velvet, with a American Beauty rose
, standing with graceful erectness at the
back. Another has a coil of violet vel-
vet and a careless cluster of heliotrope
arranged toward the back.
Mrs. Amelia Bloomer, who died at
Council Bluffs, Iowa, on Sunday last,
gave faithful service to the cause of
womanhood with vecice and pen and
brain ; but she never did her sex better
service than when she bravely adopted
the common sense business costume
which took its name from her, and
which she found necessary to her com-
fort and convenience in her pesition as
postmistress. For a generation or more
her independence had subjected her to
much good-natured ridicule. With the
rising generation her name will be apt
to summon up only grateful associa-
tions ; certainly such will be the case
with which the many thousands of her
sisters who find kealth and pleasure in
the bicycle.
Miss Nellie Cushman, of Arizona, a
tall, angular, dark-haired, dark-eyed
girl, a rapid talker, and a great reader,
has the reputation of being the only
woman mining expert in the worid.
She is a Kansas girl, and began her
work in examining ore at Tucson,
Arizona, nine years ago, when she was
a girl of seventeen.
Tartan plaids are a veritable dress
rage. Paris began the wearing of silks
and velvets in tartan patterns six
months ago, and we have followed suit
by decking ourselves gorgeously with
the plaids of the Scotch clans. Every
woman whose name is Stuart, Macpher-
son, MacGregor or anything that has
the faintest smell of the heather, walks
abroad 1n the big checks of “our tartan,
you know.” Men wear neckties of the
solid red and black of the famons out-
law Rob Roy, women display itin vel-
vet sleeves, and now and then in cross-
ing a street the dainty lifted dress
reveals a glimpse bf Rob Roy hoisery.
The coats with long skirts are most
becoming to the majority of women,
but the real new fashion is a sort of
short double-breasted reefer, which has
slanting pockets that are good to use,
Another coat is desirable for busy wom-
en because it does away with the nec-
essity of carrying a muff. It has open-
ings on a level with the arm sizes and
1nside pockets, just as the man’s ulster
possess. It is a fine idea and the pock-
ets can be added to any coat that is not
tight fitting.
The novelty of the moment is a little
collar-band of fur, to be worn as velvet
stock-collars are. 1t is merely a straight
band of fur about three inches wide,
standing out in projecting loops on the
sides, then hooking in front, where it is
adorned with two miniature heads of
the animal that meet together there.
This little odd Zour de cow is made of
the glossiest black silken Persian lamb
or of the moire Persian, orelse of seal-
skin, otter, or the shorter brown furs,
especially mink or sable.
Chinchilla 1s very decidedly the fash-
ionable fur for those who have suffi-
cient color in lip and cheek to wear it
becomingly. There is great choice in
this fur, the inferior skins looking
brown and dingy besides the clear gray
shades seen in the best qualities brought
from Africa. An undulating collarette
in two rows, or with a stole froat, is the
favorite shape, as many insist that a
mass of this fur when seen in large
capes is not effective: It is however, a
charmingly warm and velvety fleece.
It is at its best when combined with
black or with seal-skin.
An 1dea which originated with a
bright hostess is very pleasing. On a
strip of white satin ribbon which hangs
frown a tiny brass rod in her guest cham-
ber, she has written the hours for ar-
rival and departure of the principal
mails, and on the back of it, there is
pasted a perpetual calendar. Now,
there is adulterated sense for you. It
saves a lot of questions, insures punc-
tuality at meals—it her guests have any
sense of honor and helps a recreant
memory, when importent communica-
tions might be neglected but for this
gentle inspiration.
Heavy dresses, with sleeves contain-
ing more material than all the rest of
the gown put together, make it impossi-
ble to wear the additional weight of a
big cloak or coat, with sleeves to cor-
respond, so the fiton jacket is still with
us, in the shape of a bodice of fur,
minus sleeves, though sleeves can be
added if you choose.
Mrs. W. D. Egenhoff has been
Superintendent of Public Instruction
for Mariposa county, Cal, for eight
years, She was left a widow at 22 with
two young sons. A correspondent in
Mariposa writes; ‘‘flected to office a
year or two after her husband's death,
she has proved a capable superintendent
an excellent teacher and a first-class
mother. There is not a railroad in the
county. Sometimes alone, sometimes
with a lady friend, Mrs. Egenhoff has
driven 150 miles at one trip, over steep
roads skirting dizzy precipices, to visit
the schools. Nearly every school in the
| county has been visited annually, in-
cluding the cnein the Yosomite Valley.