Beworeaic Waldman
Bellefonte, Pa., Jan. 25, 1895.
THE UNSETTLED MAN.
Here's how he looked at Christmas times
All filled with joy and mirth,
While blowing in his hard-earned dimes
To get his “dollar’s worth.”
But, here you see a diff’rent pbase,
The New Year’s brought him ill;
Because a dozen statements says :
“Please pay that little bill.”
You see our friend he wears a frown
And drinks the bitter cup :
Because he didn’t “settle down,”
He, now can’t *‘settle up.”
—R. J. Smith,
THE FATAL LOSS OF A NEGATIVE.
BY MRS. ALEXANDER.
“All I can say is, it's a deuce of a
bore I” exclaimed Philip Blount, a
smart, good-looking lawyer, who was
on very good terms with himself, whose
age might be six or seven and twenty,
to his particular chum, Tom Marling,
a stout, rubicund, horsey stock broker,
perbaps a few years older.
“Well, it is rather hard lines,” re-
turned Marling, sympathetically.
“If they had given me timely notice,
I might have managed to get down to
the Grange, but such an abrupt invita-
tion looks as if Gwen Dashwood did
not want me down there.”
This dialogue was going on in the
private office of Mr. Marling, where
the two men were discussing a light
luncheon of oysters and stout, having
a little time to spare at the general re-
freshment hour.
Blount was yet only a clerk in the
old established firm of Ardell & Son ;
but that firm was now reduced to the
surviving son, who was Blount’s ma-
ternal uncle, and a childless widow-
er.
Marling was a very well off bache-
lor, much given to the good things of
this life and Blount’s special friend.
“Down there” indicated a pictures-
que old place called Varley Grange,
near Maidenhead. at present tenanted
by a charming widow, whose charms
were enhanced by the possession of
an income which enabled her to rent
such a residence, Here she gave de-
lightful “Friday to Monday” parties,
invitations to which people fished for
eagerly.
Gwendoline Dashwood was the
daughter of Mr. Ardell’s deceased
wife’s sister, his ward and the mistress
of his house. Blount rather imagined
his uncle wished to make a match be-
tween his nephew and niece. and was
quite sure of his own wishes on the
subject ; for Gwen Dashwood was a
bright, attractive brunette, with big,
brown eyes that could say a great deal
—and he paid assiduous court to the
young lady.
“Were you
Blount.
“No! I'm not at all up to the mark
of Mre. Cholmondely Morton's parties,
not elegant enough by lcng chalks.”
‘Better ask you than that beast
Everard. I hate the fellow.”
“Blount, you're a fool !”
“No more than my neighbors.”
“Rather less, in a general way; bat
you are a fool about that cousin of
yours.”
“She isn’t a cousin ; she is no rela-
tion at all.”
“Well, whether she is or not, you'll
lose your game if yon lose your balance
about her. From what I have seen I
I am inclined to think you stand very
well with her, and Everard is much
too grim and sour and black browed
to be a dangerous rival. Besides, that
Indian forestry appointment of his is
no great thing. And then Miss Dash-
word is not the girl to think of a man
who is obliged to live in the wilds.”
“I’m not so sure, Marling. Everard
has an infernal cool air of command
and superiority that imposes on women,
and Gwen has a dash of romance in
her. I fancy she thinks or suspects
that I am what she would call ‘low-
minded’ because I have the sense to
have an eye to the main chance ; but
I flatter myself I’ve been making way
with her lately. There's nothing goes
down with that sort of girl like an
air of being hopelessly gone upon her,
and, in fact, I am—rather | It’s such
uncommon luck to have a fancy for
the right young woman.”
“Is she the right one ?"
“She is. You see my uncle is deuced
fond of her, and pretty sure to leave
her the bigger half of his worldly
goods, though he likes me, but if we
marry, we'll have the whole.”
“Admirable reasoning. But if you
are making way, you may snap your
fingers at Everard.”
“I don’t know. I got away early
last week and found him at tea with
Gwen, tete-a-tete—and after ‘sitting
out’ with him for an hour in the con-
servatory at Lady Dalrymple’s ball,
when I went to claim my waltz, he
said, as she took my arm: ‘You
must be sure to write at once, remem-
ber,’ in a dictatorial tone, as if she
were his wife, by Jove!”
Marling laughed. “Well, I know
he isn’t one of the Grange party.”
“How ?” ejaculated Blount.
Instead of replying, Marling rum-
maged among some papers which lay
in a square wicker receptacle on his
knee-hole table, and tossed over a note
to his guest. It was dated the previous
Saturday from the ‘East India Club,”
and ran thus :
Dear MarLING—] am not goin
down to the Grange, nevertheless,
cannot keep my appointment on Mon-
asked!” continued
day. I have other and and better fish
to fry, and am obliged to run over to
the continent on Monday night. Shall
write when I know time of my return.
Yours truly. Huu EVERARD.
“Ah, then he could not have gone to
Mrs. Morton's,” said Blount, with a
sigh of relief. “I can’t think how
Gwen puts up with his overbearing
swagger.’
“Come now,
swagger.” ‘
“] suppose Gwen will be home to
dinnerat 7. I think I'll go and dine
with my uncle in case be feels lonely.
He was not at the office to-day, and I
am not supposed to knew that his
darling will return to cheer him.”
. “Prudent young chap, you are! Go
on and prosper, Blount, my boy.”
The aspiring you lawyer carried out
his intention and presented himself to
his uncle a few minutes before 7 10 ac-
curate evening dress, a dainty flower in
his buttonhole and a smile upon his
lips. Altogether a handsome, gentle-
man-like looking young fellow, and
steady, thought Mr. Ardell, who was
gpelling over an evening paper some-
what disconsolately in his hig and
bounteously ornamented drawing
room.
Mr. Ardell was a well preserved
man of perhaps 63—very precise and a
little exacting, with severe notions as
regarded conduct, principle, integrity
and such like old-fashioned laws of
life.
“Ah, Philip! This is an unexpect-
ed pleasure. Glad to see you.”
“Thank you, sir. Thought you
might like my company, 4s probably
Gwen may not return—and—"
“Qr possibly that you might find her
here ? Eh, Philip? Very natural, my
dear boy. Very natural. Still your
impulse is somewhat prophetic.”
Mr. Ardell stretched out his hand
for a yellow envelope which lay on a
small table beside him. “I fully ex-
pected Gwendoline to luncheon, and
not feeling quite the thing, a little liv-
erish in fact, I had ordered James to
meet the 12:30 train from R-——to
look after her luggage and find her a
cab, when, about 11:45, I received
this,” banding a telegram to Blount,
who read : “Shall be home to-night.
G. D.»
“That means by the last train, I
suppose,” said Blount.
“No doubt. Very thoughtful of her,
knowing she was expected and that I
should send to meet every train till she
arrived. She sends this to keep my
mind at rest.”
“When is the last train due?”
“About 10.20,” returned Mr. Ardell.
“Then I shall go and meet her and
bring her back. I need not leave you
till 9.50. A hansom will rattle across
the park to the Great Western in 20
minutes.
“Yes, do, Philip, Gwendoline will be
glad to see you. There is a Bradshaw
in the dining room. We'll make a
note of the time.”
“Dipner is on the table,” said James,
the solemn man out of livery, who rul-
ed the lower regions,
Philips Blount followed Mr. Ardell
down stairs contentedly enough,
though, being somewhat given to sus-
picion and self-tormenting, debated
that telegram in hisown mind. Why
did she not say “shall return by euch
or such a train?” Why did she leave
things in such a vague condition?
James might have been dancing at-
tendance at Paddington from 6:30 on,
leaving his functions to be indifferent-
ly performed by the housemaid, and
reducing Mr. Ardell to the inconven-
ience of a female waiter.
Dinner was, as usual in Lonsdale
Gardens, remarkably good—a matter
of no small importance in Blount’s
eyes—and Mr. Ardell was exceedingly
conversational in a careful and didactic
manner throughout it.
When dessert was put on the table
and James departed a short pause en-
sued ; then Mr, Ardell said: “I think
you will find a fresh Bradshaw on the
writing table in the window. Let us
make sure of the train before you
start.”
Philiprose and went to the stable
whence he returned with Bradshaw
and another book, handsomely bound
in deepred with gold letters and dec-
orations.
“You are right,” he said, the R——
train is due at 10:20.” He handed
Bradshaw to his uncle and continued :
“I gee you have Everard’s book here.
‘Life in the Wild Woods.” I don’t
fancy him in print—doesn’t give me
the idea of a writing man.”
“T have not read the work,” return-
ed.his uncle, with a tinge of disdain in
his tone. “That copy was presented
to Gwendoline. I was rather annoyed
at ner accepting it, though I do not
very well see how she could have refus-
ed it. But Mr. Everard is nota man
I like. He is pretentious and dicta-
torial, in fact, inclined to take liberties,
or I should say, he presumes on some
connection with old friends of Gwendo-
line’s to come here much oftener than
I like, and assume a tamiliar tone with
my niece of which I totally disap-
rove’
“Yes, my dear uncle, I have noticed
it also, and it makes me indignant.
However, he has gone to the continent
and—"
“Why, yes, I know. He wrote to
Gwendoline explaining why he could
not go to this party and mentioned that
he was going abroad, a very unneces-
sary proceeding, a8 I told my niece.”
“And what did she say ?"’
“Well, she laughed and said that for
all I knew it might be very necessary.
“A curious answer,” said Blount un-
easily. “What do you make of it ?"
“What, I? Oh, nothing. It is
really unimportant, only I fancy that
Mr. Everard aspires to a matrimonial
alliance with us, rather an audacious
project on his part.”
“I should think it was!” cried
Blount. “He tries to seem on confi.
dential terms with Gwen, but—"'
“She hag too much sense to heed
him. In fact, she would not offend me
by entertaining any proposal from Mr.
Blount, he doesn’t
Everard.” interrupted Ardell. “I
fancy you are aware, my dear Philip,
that my great wish is to see ‘my.
nephew and niece united before I die—
not only because I am attached to you,
but both and each would then be bene. .
fited equally by what I may be enabled
to bequeath.”
“And I desire nothing so ardently,”
cried Philip, “as to call her my wife.
In fact, I have loved her ever since she
came from school to reside here.”
“I have suspected it, Philip. I have
suspected it,”” returned his uncle. play-
ing with the double eyeglass which
hung from his neck.
boy, I am not so sure of her.”
“I am not without hope, ifonly no |
one comes between us.” There was a
long pause, each being occupied with
hisown hopes and fears for the future.
Suddenly Blount exclaimed: “Could
one drive from Paddington to Charing
“But, my dear |
aghast. “Why, what—what can be
pected has occurred. Sbe has missed
her train. She has been over-persuad-
unwarrantable surmise is—to0—too
preposterous. It Gwen were guilty of
deceiving me, I'd—I’d renounce her
forever.”
“You must not be too hard. If we
[| I="
“What is to done next, Philip?”
heard him.
“] am sure I hardly know, sir.
Shall I call at Everard’s club to-mor-
row and ascertain it possible when he
Cross in half an hour, with a minute
or two to spare ?”
“Yes, if the streets were not crowd-
ed. and the horse a good one. Why
do you ask ?”’
“Oh, ah, I only wanted your opio-
ion. That is, my dear uncle, I have
an awful dread of that fellow Everard,
and it's curious, but this morning I
saw a note from him saying he was go-
ing to start for the continent this even-
ing, or some time to-morrow. Could
it be—'" he stopped abruptly.
“Be what?’ asked Mr. Ardell,
putting on his glasses to gaze at the
speaker.
“Don’t laugh at my jealous fancy,
but—but suppose he persuaded Gwen
to accompany him !”
“Impossible, sir!” was the indignant
answer. ‘You show your ignorance
of my niece by such a suspicion.”
“But, uncle, women are so queer and
flighty, and—and just see how this
wire gives color to my idea! Why
need she send it at all? It would have
been no great matter if James had gone
to meet several trains. Was it not
calculated to keep the whole afternoon
free? See, there are only three trains
in the day from R——, and Everard
could have met her and started by the
mail train for Paris, or God knows
where. He had some power over her.
I heard him say—" and he repeated the
story of the ball which be had told
Marling in the morning.
At first Mr. Ardell was indignant
and incredulous, but as Blount persist-
ed and insisted on the weakness, gulli-
bility and fancifulness of women, es-
pecially young ones, the elder man
grew restless, irritable and blustering.
“Time will show. sir!" cried Blount
at last, looking at the heavy classical
bronze clock over the fireplace, “and I
haven’t left myself too much time to
get to the station by 18:20. God grant I
may bring back Gwendolin safe and
sound to you. I may exaggerate
things, but I hardly hope to find her?’
“Nonsense, Philip. I believe you
are out of your mind; but you have
made me very uncomfortable,” return-
ed Mr. Ardell ringing the bell. “Come
back as fast as you can. Whistle a
cab for Mr. Blount,” he continued, as
James appeared in answer to the bell.
“You must not agitate yourself too
much, my dear uncle,” said Blount
rising and feeling some com punction at
having worked up his host tosuch a
pitch of uneasiness, and he left the
room.
A hansom already awaited him, and
he was soon rattling toward Padding-
ton.
By this time he had reached a con-
dition of mind which induced him to
seek comfort by recapitulating his
uncle's arguments against himself.
Suppose the horrible suspicions prov-
true. Mr. Ardell would certainly cut
off Gwen with a shilling—or, perhaps
a farfhing—possibly all his uncle's
fortune might come to him. “I have
always been fond of her. There’ssuch
a good style about her, and jusc lately
she has been so sweet and friendly.
What bright, mischievous browr eyes
she has. There's no girl in our set fit
to tie her shoes. No, all the money
wouldn’t be worth much, at least not
now, if Gwen slipped through my fin-
gers. Hullo! the arrival platform.
Cabby, mind what you are about. I
want to meet the 10:20 from R
aod it’s 10:17 now.
In a few seconds he had alighted and
was pacing the platform.
The rush and bustle of the early ev-
ening trains were over. The great
station looked gloomy and deserted—
very few porters were about and the
10:20 was evidently a thing of no im-
portance.
Blount paced slowly up and down
revolving the possibilities of his posi-
tion.
Gwen was certainly what is calleda
girl of spirit, not to say slightly head-
strong and there was nosaying what a
young woman of that description might,
could or would do. What motive bad
she in sending that mysterious tele-
gram, if it were notto mask her
movements ? ‘“‘Here, porter; isn’t
the 10:20 trom R——behind time 2’
“Well, it often is—but it signaled
now sir.”
A few more uneasy, miserable min-
utes and the panting engine was
alongside the platform, while the por-
ters were opening and banging the
doors. The train was fairly full of
better class ’Arrys and ’'Arriets who
had been boating, plump mothers with
numerous olive branches returning
from excursions along the river, lover-
like couples of a higher grade, eager to
jump into hansoms as if fearful of be-
ing behind time ; men in flanuels, girls
in muslins and shade hats, for it had
been a .glorious summer's day. But
no sign of the tall distinguished figure
he sought for so feverishly. His keen
eyes searched every carriage and scan-
ned cach group. Soon they were dis-
persed like grains of pepper thrown on
water, while he was alone and despair-
ing. Certainly Gwen Dashwood was
not coming home to-night. He left
the station and drove back to Lonsdale
Gardens as fast he could.
“No sign of her!” he exclaimed,
rushing into the dining room, where
Mr. Ardell, thoroughly infected by his
nephew’s fears was pacing to and
fro.
“Not come !"”” cried the old man
| returns ? But of course he will leave
I little or no trace of his movements.
| “I am quite certain you do Gwen
| the greatest injustice, but my dear boy,
| come to me to-morrow morning early,
as early, ag you can. There is not
much doing to-morrow, that case is
not on till—till Wednesday, and young
Pounceby can manage very well, at
least for a few hours, and we must
know something certain by the after-
noon. No use in expecting her to-
night, Philip. Take some brandy and
soda before you go. I want some my-
self.”.
Both felt a little more hopeful after
partaking of this retreshment. when
they parted with some solemnity, and
Blount made his way to his own place,
where he passed a wretched night,
harassed by frightful dreams, in which
he found himeelf minus both the
“beauz and yeux’ and the “cassette,”
of Rhish he hoped to possess him-
self.
After a hasty visit to the office, for
he never neglected business, Blount
hurried to Lonsdale Gardens.
“Well, Philip, have you telegraph-
ed ?’ was Mr. Ardell’s salutation.
“No sir, I thought you would, and
two wires would seem ridiculous and
suspicious.”
“What matter, so long as we get in-
formation ?"’ cried his uncle testily.
“I will go and telegraph myself,”
said Blount, anxious to be up and do-
ing, and bent his steps to a central
office at some distance, fancying it
would be more rapidly dispatched than
from the little local postoffice in a
baker’s shop. Returning, a runaway
horse and a smashed vehicle impeded
his progress, and on his arrival James
received bim with smiles. “Miss
Dashwood is upstairs sir—arrived just
after you went out !"”
Blount rushed upstairs, two steps at
a time, flung open the door and beheld
his uncle!standing on the hearth rug,
playing nervously with his “pince-nez,”
while, still in her hat—a very becom-
ing one—an open telegram in her
hand, Gwen was walking up and down
in (not to put too fine a point upon it)
a towering rage.
“To make all this fuss about noth-
ing I” she was saying. ‘To iusult me
with such suspicions and you, uncle,
to believe them ! Ah, Philip, I wonder
you dare to look me in the face! I
know it is all your doing. You have
upset Uncle Ardell frightfully, he is
quite ill. How dare you accuse me of
such baseness ? Yes, Uncle has told
me everything, and I see that you are
a low-minded; disagreeable creature,
and I was beginning to think better of
you. The whole mystery has arisen
from a mistake, either of mine or the
telegraph clerk at R——. The tele:
gram I thought I sent—that I intended
to send—was: ‘Shall not be home
to-night.” Either he or I omitted the
negative |”
“My dear Gwen,” began Blount,
imploringly.
“Don’t ‘dear’ me !” she interrupted.
“As to Mr. Everard, he had a quarrel !
with his fiancee, an old schoolfellow of
mine. I have helped to reconcile
them, and she has asked him to meet
ber and her mother in Paris.”
“But, Gwen, if you knew my feel-
ings!” .
“If you had kept them to yourself,
and not tried to make mischief with
my uncle, and lower me in his opinion,
I might forgive ; as it is, I shall have
no more to do with you Philip.”
And she kept her word.
A Study of Incomes.
Wealth is More Distributed in This Country
Than in Great Britian.
The following figures, taken from the
last English census, reveal some inter-
esting facts concerning the economical
situation of Great Britain.
About 250,000 persons in Great Brit-
ian have an annual incorae of $1000,
and 2,000,000 have an income of $500.
Thus it would appear thas only one out
ot every five is capable of supporting a
family. Itis to be borne in mind that
$500 a year amounts to only $1.37 a day
which is not very much for a family of
four persons. On the other hand, there
are in the United Kingdom 126,000
famlies having an annual income of
about $3000, and 5000 families with an
income of more than $25,000.
In the United States, according to
the statistics compiled by T. G. Shear-
man, we have 400,000 families (or about
two millions of people) whose annual
income amounts to $2000, and more
than 10,000 families having an income
of more than $25,000.
Taking into account the difference in
population between the United States
and Great Britian, it still will be evi-
dent that not only can America boast of
a greater number of rich people than
the United Kingdom, but that wealth is
more equally distributed and less cen-
tralized in United States.
Two Pennsylvania Senators.
Pennsylvania has two able men in
the Senate, but they got there by way
of Michigan and Oregon. Burrows,
the new Senator from Michigan and
Mitchell, of Oregon, formerly resided
in the Keystone State. Pennsylvania
would get the best of the bargain trad-
ing Quay and Cameron for her two suc-
cessful sons in the West.
ed to stay the pight—many things |
| might have happened, but your—your
| Chicago
| where Dr Holub has lecture enguge-
can only prevent scandal. I should | ig
still be ready to carry out your wishes. |
A Bridal Trip in Africa.
the meaning of Gains So partie Perils That Confronted a Young Bride on the |
| nary disappearance ! Something unex: | pg.i Continent. Constantly Beset by Savages.
For and About Women.
But for the courage and presence of
mind of Mrs. Isaac Parr there would
Bonin ii Fon and fe rire Feelyrh 2 Jory | have been a terrible wreck on the Fris-
Rgerous Journey. omen Who Lroved | oo Road three miles north of Paris, Tex.
Her Courage.
The distinguished explorer of Austria-
Hungary, Dr. Emil Holub, and his wife
Mrs. Rosa Holub, are at present visiting
and other Western cities,
They expect to remain here till
Dr. Holub bas given to Afri-
can research, to the writing of his books
. 1 and to the preparation of the largest col-
lections in natural history ever brought
resumed his uncle as if he had not! irom Africa by one man, over 20 years
of his life.
Dr. Holub does not belong to the
class of explorers who cover great dis-
tances in a year or two, and whose ob-
servations, therefore, are necessarily
superficial. He is thoroughly scientific
in bis training and methods, and he has
spent 11 years in South Africa and
South Central Africa studying all the
aspects of nature between Kimberley
and the wild Mashukulumbe north of
the Zambesi river. He has published
five large volumes on his work in Afri-
ca, one of them devoted wholly to birds.
He has given enormous collections to
European museums from Rome to
Stockholw.
A BRIDE’S BODY GUARD.
In the few weeks since Dr. Holub and
his wife arrived in America they have
heard sad news from Austria. It is the
death of Janos Fekete, a soldier in the
Austria-Hungarian army, who was de-
tailed to accompany Dr. Holub in his
last long journey. He was Mrs. Holub’s
faithful servant, a giant in stature and
and strength, who carried her through
many of the marshes in flooded districts
of Africa, and at one time bore her to
safety on his shoulders when the party
had been surrounded by the most mur-
derous natives of Africa who live north
of the Zambesi, and whose country has
not been penetrated by any other ex-
plorer.
Mrs. Holub was a young bride when
she started with her already famous hus-
band for Africa in 1883. They had five
European assistants and a splendid out-
fit that cost about $60,000. It was a
remarkable tour and lasted four years.
The plan was to push north from Cape
Colony across the Zambesi, explore the
unknown land of the Mashukulumbe
and then push further north through
wholly untrodden districts to the region
of the great lakes. In these four years’
strong men in the party dropped and
died, but the young bride from Vienna
seemed to lead a charmed life. She was
not attacked with fever until toward
the close of the journey, though for
many months she lived in the pestilent
region of the Zambesi. It was her
good fortune that she was fitted for the
life she led more than many a man who
has gone to Atrica.
SHOOTING FROM HORSEBACK.
A woman of fine physique and plent,
of pluck and A Mrs. Holub
enjoyed the outdoor life. She rode a
horse as far north as that animal could
be utilized. She was a good shot, and
many an animal was brought down b;
her rifie while she was chasing at full
speed after the game. Her trusty gun
was slung over her shoulder for miles at
a time, and she killed many of the
hundreds of animals whose skins are now
mounted in & score of European mu-
seums. She wore a dress of stout dark
cloth, such as many of our women-
mountain-climbers wear. Her white
felt hat had a wide brim, and she often
carried a sun shade. No onein the par-
ty was busier than she. She prepared
many of the skins for preservation. A
large part of the measurements of ani-
mals, people, native huts and other ob-
jects that figurein Dr. Holub’s remark-
able series of models illustrating Afri-
can life and habitations were made by
her. Much of the time she attended to
the purchase of food from natives, with
whom she could drive better bargains
than the men folks. She was regarded
as a great curiosity by the natives, par-
ticularly by the women, who sometimes
walked for miles to see the wonderful
white woman with the long hair that
fell way down her back. They brought
her gifts, which were sometimes pre-
sented by her awe-struck sisters on their
bended knees.
At last, after many months of explo-
ration and collecting south of the Zam-
besi, the party crossed the upper part of
that river and entered the land of the
famous savages who were known only
for their
HOSTILITY TO EVERY WHITE MAN
who came near them. One of the
young men had already died of fever,
and, what is rarely seen, a white wom-
an’s tears had been shed over the grave
of a poor explorer in Africa. Five
white men, a white women and a small
torce of native carriers were now push-
ing through an unknown land of bush
and marsh and many rivers among the
worst natives in Africa. From the first
the Mashukulumbe showed their hostile
spirit. Some said the visitors would
bring death to everyone in the land.
Others pretended that the strangers were
simply Marutse who had painted them-
selves white and had come to spy out
the land. Dr. Holub had always been
able to impress the natives with his
medical skill, but in this region he
found his profession useless. No sick
person would take a drop of his medi-
cine. Every one would as soon be the
target for a spear as to let the doctor
touch him.
There came a time after the party had
ressed far into the country when four
arrowing, terrible weeks nearly ended
the little expedition. Nineteen porters
who had been obtained just outside the
Mashukulumbe country deserted Dr.
Holub, for they feared that their mortal
enemies would kill them if they remain-
ed. This left in the party only four
white people (for another man had died)
and eight native servants. There they
were surrounded by hundreds of savages
thirsting for their blood. A tragedy
seemed inevitable whether they advanc-
ed or retreated. The party could not
bave lived for an hour if the natives
had not been in mortal terror of the
white man’s weapons.
LED INTO A TRAP.
Dr. Holub decided that he would try
to reach the lake region to the mnorth-
east, where he knew the tribes were
friendly and where he could get plenty
(Continued on page 6.)
|
i
recently. She discovered a bridge on
fire near her home, took a red table
cloth and went out to the bridge, where
she stood in the bitter cold for nearly
two hours before the train arrived. The
engine was within forty feet of the
burned bridge when it was brought to
a halt.
Some singularly artistic looking
| gowns with short waists are made in
wool crepe, and other soft falling ma-
terials cut square at the neck, with a
wide sash and a bow at one side coming
under the bust. The square is trimmed
with a jeweled galon, and so is the hem
of the slightly trained skirt. Another
style is a crossing bodice coming just
under the arm where the skirt is sewn,
elbow sleeves with rufties below. The
arms are thrust through a species of
overdress without sleeves made in con-
trasting brocade. In another style the
bodice is made full, a vandyke belt
coming under the bust matching the
embroidery round the square neck.
The sleeve is a puff to the elbow.
French woman have long known that
a low bust makes an exquisite contour
of figure. Ifit was not natural, they
acquired 1t, and the result makes the
French figure with its broad shoulders,
low small bust and long, slender waist
the ideal one for the civilized world.
The first woman to be appointed &
railroad division surgeon is Carrie Lie-
big, who will have charge of the North-
ern Pacific at Hope, Idaho.
There is no reason in the world why
every woman should not wear her hair
in a pretty, becoming fashion, says the
New York Telegram. The styles are
many, affording a wide field for experi-
ment, and when by either accident or
design a becoming arrangement is effec-
ted it should be individualized and then
worn in that way all the time. Should
a little unusual elaboration be desired,
a twist of ribbon round the knot, a bow,
or jeweled aigrette placed whers it will
show to the best advantage will make
all the change necessary, and prove
much more satisfactory than an attempt
to startle the world by appearing before
it in a unique coiffure, which may hap-
pen to be in style, but which may be as
unbecoming as it is fashionable.
One of the prettiest arrangements is
known as the rope coil, and is easily
constructed as well as generally becom-
ing. If the forehead is somewhat high
one cannot dispense with a suggestion
of bang, and therefore a few short locks
fall lightly over the brow. The hair is
then drawn back very softly and mid-
way on the head itis turned and made
into a loop very much like the Psyche
knot, about which is made a round out-
line. The ends are rolled and twisted.
The woman whose ‘crowning glory”
is very dark in color should never have
it either crinkled or frizzy. If possible
it should be worn quite plain, but if
that be too trying, loosely waved bands
may be used.
Blonde and brown haired lassies are
at liberty to curl and crimp to their
heart’s desire, but they must remember
that “bangs are relegated to the past.
The mode of to-day permits, when it
seems necessary, & soft fringe, but it
must be an extremely light and short
one, allowing the forehead to show. A
pretty example of the crimp and curl ar-
rangement is made by carefully parting
and waving the hair over the head and
drawing loosely down over the ears. At
the back it is very softly coiled and the
ends turned over in a puff low on the
neck, where it is held by a shell or sil-
ver dagger. An effective decoration for
this is made of two bandeaux of ribbon
with a star or crescent of brilliants fast-
ened to the one banding the forehead.
No woman who studies the art of
dress undervalues the black gown.
And yet how few wear it with discre-
tion. Black becomes fair hair and a
bright complexion. The darker woman
must relieve it with touches of vivid
color. A new model for the handsome
black gown which no gentleman’s libra-
ry, that is to say, no woman’s wardrobe
is supposed to be without is of black
velvet stiffened just a bit with crinoline.
Inside the skirt, for beauty’s sake, and
that same joy all women have in dainty
underwear, there should be a pinked out
frill of black silk, and the skirt itself
should be wide enough to have the sea-
son’s sweep of dignity. We don’t cling
you know, this winter; we stand on our
dignity. There’s a subtle connection
between wide skirts and the broidered
with jet in quite an open pattern. For
a bodice a blouse is very effective, and
may be of black and white or red and
black checked silk or of a stripe of black
and white or black and amber.
To wear this same velvet skirt of an
evening vou need only substitute a pink
or wkite chiffon bodice with your favor-
ite flowers.
Whatever the material used for an
evening costume, chiffon usually enters
somewhere into the construction, and a
case in which it has not proved a be-
coming factor has not yet been found.
The fact that the blouse and all other
styles in fancy wsists remain in high
fashion in Paris is the substance of a re-
cent letter from the city. Black silk
velvet ribbons are greatly favored as ac-
cessories, and are likewise used on some
of the finest millinery—in the way of
small bonnets, for bows and bands
drawn through jewel, jet or steel buck-
les.
A model housewife will remember
that it is a mistaken idea to cover a car-
pet with a drugget in the belief that it
will save it, as the gennine grinding on
the floor is what wears out the carpet,
and the protection should come from be-
neath and she will save all the scraps of
bread, spread them on & plate in a mod-
erate oven until perfectly dry, then
crush and roll with a rolling pin, sift
and putin a jar ready for the many
uses to which they may be put. What
does not go through the sieve she will
roll again, or put in a separate jar for
bread and puddings, ete.