11H
~~!
Demorralic’
Bellefonte, Pa., March i5, 1895.
THE POET'S CONFESSION.
With my nose to the grindstone of duty,
I sing you a song for a fee,
And though it may not be a beauty,:
"Twill make little matter to me.
For I sing for the sake of the money,
And not for the sake of the art,
And though the so g may not be funny,
"Twill still make an editor “part.”
1 will stir you to amorous passion,
Though chaste as Diana myself
Or I'll baw! in the patriot’s fashion—
Tis purely a question of pelf,
1 will e’en sing a hymn if you're willing,
Devoutly as any divine,
And the charge of the line is a shilling—
Tis cheap at a shilling a line.
When I write about wine I am witty,
But wittier, still, as I think, :
When]I knock off a temperance ditty
In order to pay for a drink,
I can sing of the joys ot the “beano,”
I can sing of the choir boy who died ;
Though at these I am not very keeno,
Still I'm certain I could if I tried,
So give your poetical order,
You have not a moment tolose ;
You will find me afaithful recorder
Of any emotion you choose.
With my nose to the grindstone of duty,
I'll turn the thing out ina trice,
And ifit should not be a beauty,
Well, that’s the result of the price.
—Judy.
A DELUDED LOVER.
Nell sang gayly as she ran here and
there, putting things in order, and mak-
ing the little parlor look as.inviting as
possible. She was very happy, this
brown-haired, brown-eyed Nell, for the
bright spring days had come and she
rejoiced to think that the reign of the
long, stern winter was ended. Besides,
Tom was coming that evening—dear
old Tom Riker! who had loved her
ever since they were school children
together. when he used to carry her
great pile of books. He would be un-
usually welcome this time, too, for he
had been away a whole month on busi-
ness, and his absence had made the
time seem very long to Nell.
There had been no deflnite under-
standing between these two people ; no
word had been spoken in regard to
their hopes for the future, but they
believed they understood each other
thoroughly, and their friends and rela-
tions patiently awaited the announce-
ment of their engagement.
They say that the course of true love
never does run smooth—that there is
always something, it may bea mere
trifie, to disturb its even flow ; and the
saying held good in this case at any
rate. After an hour or two of that
happy evening had been spent by Nell
in Tom’s company, her mother had
called her out of the room to give final
directions regarding closing up for the
night (Mrs. Springer was so ‘nervous
about burglars), and when Nell retarn-
ed to the parlor she found Tom sadly
changed. His manuer was cold and
distant and only the most common-
place remarks were made. Poor Nell
was hurt and bewildered. She thought
over everything that had been said
and done, and could not account for
Tom’s manner. Surely no remark of
here could possibly have offended him,
and yet he was offended, that was evi-
dent.
She had been going over these things
in her mind while she tried to keep up
her share in the uninteresting conver-
sation. She scarcely knew what either
of them was saying, and suddenly she
realized that he was coldly bidding her
“Good night.”
From that sad leave-taking she went
mechanically about her duties; that
ie, che saw that the doors and windows
were securely fastened. and that the
cat put out for the night. This animal
was banished because it was no respec-
tor of china or bric-a-brac. He would
just as lief as not knock the clock or a °
his search for a:
mouse, 80 he wag regularly put out:
There-by
handsome vase in
when the family retired.
hangs the tale, not the cat's tail only,
but this little love tale I am penning.
“Didn't Tom go home early last
night ?”” Mrs. Springer inquired of her
daughter the following morning.
“A little earlier than usual,” the
girl answered, with her face turned to
the window. There was nothing of
special interest in the street, but Nell
wanted to avoid her mother’s search-
ing glance. She knew that her eyes
must be red, for she had cried herself
to sleep the night before. ’
“Did you put Tom out the last
thing 2” was her mother’s next inquiry.
The girl started. “Did I—I—put
him out?’ she stammered, with only
one Tom in her mind at the time.
“Yes ; did you put the cat out?
Here's achip off of a saucer, and I
thought perhaps you had forgotten him
and he had—"
“Oh! the cat. Yes, I put him out, I
am sure.”
Then Nell’s face suddenly brighten:
ed; a light came into her troubled
mind. The mystery about Tom’s be-
havior wae solved. She distinctly re-
membered now, that after giving the
other directions on the previous eve-
ning her mother had called to her as
she was returning to the parlor, “Put
Tom out ;”’ and she had answered, de-
cidedly, “Indeed, I'll not forget that.
Isn't he a nuisance? I wish he had
never come here.”
Tom must have heard it all, and
having been away at the time of the
cat's advent, he had taken the Tom
mentioned to be himself. It was a
wonder that Nell had not thought ot
that when she made these remarks;
but she was up in the seventh heaven
of blies, where no hint of coming trou-
ble could reach her. She laughed a
little, buc instantly the pain came back
to her heart. After all, Tom was angry,
and would probably never come again.
She could not explain the matter un-
less he mentioned it first, and that he
would be too proud to do. He felt, she
was sure, that he had received an in-
sult, and, of course, all was over be-
tween them, and she must go on her
weary way alone. However, she did
keep up a tiny spark of hope, and look-
ed for him every evening until three
weeks had passed without his making
an appearance, and then she gave him |
up entirely.
“J can’t blame him much, either,”
she said to herself, sadly ; “and yet he
might have given me a chance to ex-
plain.”
Three months from that time Nell
stood by the front gate looking out up-
on the beautiful world. It was sum-
mer now, and the air was full of the
fragrance of roses. She remembered
how fond she had always been of these;
but nothing made any difference to her
now. She had grown verysad; and
though she tried to keep up a show of
great load on her heart, and something
seemed to choke her when she tried to
ging. She had not seen Tom, except at
a distance in all that time. She missed
him so ; for he had been like part of
her life ever since she could remember.
He was keeping very much to himself
now, she heard people say ; and some-
times the boldest of her friends ques-
tioned her in regard to her treatment
of the young man, and she answered
calmly enough without giving them
the least bit of satisfaction. They
thought her hard-hearted, and some of
them declared that she had sent Tom
away after fooling with him all those
years, but they never knew of the bit-
ter tears she shed in the seclusion ot
her own room when the curious ques-
tioner had departed.
But Mrs. Springer knew that Nell
was suffering. She saw that there was
some trouble between her and Tom,
although she could not understand it.
They had always been so peaceable,
even as children, that she could not
believe a trifle would separate them.
However, she finally decided that the
girl needed a change, and had pre-
vailed upon Nell to pay a visit of a
few weeks to an aunt who lived near
the seashore. The trunk was packed,
and Nell stood by the gate waiting for
the stage to come along. She felt lit-
tle interest in her journey, and indeed
was going only because her mother
kept urging it. Still the excitement of
getting ready had lent a color to her
cheeks that had not been there for
many a long day, her neat traveling
suit of brown was very becoming to
her, and, altogether, she looked ex-
ceedingly pretty as she stood by the
gate with a faraway look in her large,
brown eyes. ; .
“Nell,” called her mother from the
kitchen, “is Tom out there ? I thought
I saw him go out the front door with
you. Send him in, quick! There is a
mouse in the closet.”
Nell looked up the road. Yes, there
was the cat, walking leisurely away.
“Here, Tom! Tom! Tom!” She
called ; and so intent was she on this
duty that she did not hear footsteps in
the opposite direction until their owner
was near the house. Then she turned
and saw Tom Riker’s grave eyes look-
ing straight at her. Her heart beat
fast, and she feared, yet hoped, that
he would speak ; but he merely bowed
and walked on. Yet the next moment
he seemed moved by a sudden thought,
for he wheeled directly around and
went back to her.
“Excuse me, Nell,” he said, anxious-
ly, “but is that your cat ?"
“Yes,” she answered, with a nervous
inclination to laugh.
“How long have you had him ?”
Tom still looked very grave; but
Nell's mouth was twitching, and it
kept time with ber beating heart.
“He followed father home one eve-
ning in the spring,” she replied.
“And he has been with you ever
gince ?”’
“Yes,”
Every question was growing more
eager.
“And was there the last evening I
spent with you?” .
“Yes.”
“His name 18 Tom ?"
“Yes ; father found out the owner,
and he told him ; but the cat insisted
on remaining with us.”
“And do you put him out of the
house at night 2”
“Yes.”
Then their eyes met ; they read each
other's thoughts, and both broke into
the first merry laugh that they had
experienced for many a long day. A
moment of embarrassment followed.
Nell was the first to break the silence.
“Were you coming in?" she asked
demurely.
“Such was not my intention,” he re-
plied, with a world of tenderness in his
voice, “though I don’t know what I
might do if 1 were invited. But you
are going away, are you not ?”
“Well, I was,” Nell said, giving him
a amile that spoke volumes, “but it is
not absolutely necessary that I should
go to-day,—to-morrow would do,—or
even next week.”
“Or never,” he added, recklessly.
“The fact is, Nell yon must not go at
all until we can go together.”
“I was going to my aunt’s,” she an-
swered pretending not to notice his last
remark. He was beginning to take
too much for granted now.
“Does she expect you ?”
“No ; I was to surprise her.”
“Then suppose we go that way on
our wedding tour,” Nell said, sau-
cily, as she thought of the weary
months in which he had remained
away from her. “I never made such
agreement.’
“Then, darling, come in and make
it now,” he answered taking her hand.
“You know we've always meant it,
but we can’t do it properly out here.”
“Did you find that cat?” called out
Mrs. Springer.
Nell glanced up the street and saw
that the cat had disappeared.
“I couldn't catch Tom,’ she answer-
ed, running into the hall.
“Never mind that Tom,” whispered
the young man, who followed her and
took her in his strong arms; “for this
Tom has at last securely caught you.”
—S. Jexyie SMitH—in Demorest’s
Magazine.
~——If you want printing of any dic-
cription the WATCHMAN office is the
place to have it done.
Farming in Jamaica.
Mrs. Julian Hawthorne Gives Her Experience
in Growing.— Yams for New York Market.—
Woman's Experiments in Agriculture in th
West Indies.—Natives Wonder at American
Tools.
KiNasToN, Jamaica, Feb. 20.--Our
farm is eight miles from the coast, and
between 2,100 and 2,300 feet up on the
hills on the north side. An area of 100
acres contains no less than seven small
but aggressive hills from 100 to 300 feet
in height, but all capable of holding
crops of one sort or another, Jamaicans
always use their hillsides, partly be-
cause they have to, and partly because
5 | the soil is especially rich in these situa-
cheerfulness, she felt as it there were a |
tions. Here are planted yams, cocoa
and the like tropical produce. A hoe
is scraped among the loose rocks when-
ever a little soil has accumulated, a yam
is planted and a pole stuck in beside it
(unless a small tree offers a substitute,)
and anon the yam has in an inexplicable
manner grown up, clothing its pole
with pretty, hop-like festoons of dark
green leaves. In a year from the plant-
ing the yams are dug, and if they have
had a chance to expand they will often
be a yard long and as thick as a man’s
leg.
Upon taking possession of our little
farmer our first task was to clear a
patch for the home garden. The “ruin-
ate’’—that is to say. the trees and brush
which spring up after land has been
cultivated and abandoned —was first cut
down.
THE WEST INDIAN MACHETE.
This outting is done neither with axe
nor scythe, but with a tcol peculiar to
the West Indies, called a machete. It
is a sort of gigantic knife, the blade two
feet in length and three inches broad,
with a formidable curve to it likea
scimetar. The handle is like that of
the sword-bayonets used in the army.
The lower part of the edge only is
sharpened ; the metal is of poor quality
and the edge often needs reviving,
though it can be very sharp for a while.
This picturesque implement does all the
cutting and mowing work in Jamaica,
and with this and a pickax and crowbar
the primeval forest is subdued.
The brush, having been cut, must be
carried off on the heads of the men (or
women) and piled up in heaps to burn.
The grass and weeds, if very rank,
must also be cut, and then comes the
pickaxing. Pickaxing costs from $1 to
$1.50 per square chain. [f the sod be
thick and tough all;roots must be taken
out before raking and planting can be
done, for pickaxing has not the same
burying effect that plowing has. The
roots are, of course, put in the compost
heap so as to get whatever value as
manure they possess.
AN INEXHAUSTIBLE SOIL.
The soil, as revealed by these opera-
tions, is a dark chocolate color or deep
crimson, turning lighter on exposure ;
it is of a friable quality and there is no
trace of a subsoil ; it’seems to go down
to any depth. Our home garden runs
along the top and side of a swell of land
about 20 feet in height, and in one
‘place we made an excavation six feet
deep, at the bottom of which the char-
acter of the soil was the same as at the
top, and going still downward indefi-
nitely. The soil always is loose and
crumbly, and even after rains does not
‘pack ;'’ altogether, it is most peculiar
stuff.
Potatoes are small, but wonderfully
clean and smooth. There are no pota-
to beetles, nor so far have we found in-
sect pests of any kind. Ants are said to
devour all seeds planted, but we have
suffered nothing from them. Cabbages
grow to immense size and have firm,
bard heads. When cut, the stalk is
left in the ground and sprouts grow
from it, bearing fresh cabbages. The
Jamaicans declare that this second crop
is as good as the first, but we have not
as yet had an opportunity of confirming
the assertion in our experience.
We planted to start with about 200
tomato plants—a quantity which has
paralyzad the neighborhood.
WORKING THE FARM.
After getting our garden in good
shape we turned to the farm proper.
There is a plot of about twenty acres
running in and out among three
or four of the hills. Quitea heavy tim-
ber growth covers it, with the exception
of one piece of five acres on which only
some twenty pimentos and other large
trees grew. The roots of the pimento
lie near the surface, and we attacked
them with an American ax (not the
straight, handed thing sometimes used
by Jamaicans, but a real ax imported
for the purpose) and the roots having
been severed, the trees were pulled down
by ropes, thus leaving no stumps. As
this piece of ground i fairly level and
free from rock, we are plowing it and
planting it with cucumbers and po-
tatoes for the New York spring market.
Another patch at the eastern end of the
valley has been pickaxed, and will be
devoted to tomatoes for the same desti-
nation. There are no ‘‘scasons’ at this
height above the sea ; the thermometer
never drops below fifty on the coldest
winter nights nor rises above eighty in
summer. There are showers almost
daily, and heavy dews. In August
everything is as green as in May.
Our American tools are a never-
ceasing source of wonder to the colored
population. For example, everything
here is carried on the head, from a cake
of soap to seventy-pound basket of veg-
etables. We had occasion to remove an
old stone wall on the place, and it was
a ravelation to our darkey - boy, when,
instead of being allowed to take away
the debris at the current rate of one
stone on his head and one in each hand.
he was introduced to an American
wheelbarrow.
RESTING HIS HEAD.
It bad been the custom to transport
bundles in a box on his head and bring
the firewood on the same support, but
now he is devoted heart and soul to the
wheelbarrow, and his head is getting a
rest from the only kind of labor it was
ever called on to perform.
The pimentic or alspice crop is “fit”
about the end of August. The mode of
gathering it is for a small boy to climb
the trees, which are 30 feet high and
very thick branched, 'and throw down
all the berry-bearing twigs and small
branches that he can reach and break
off. As many clusters grow out of
reach at the ends of the boughs, this
mode of picking is open to improvement
Meanwhile, a group of girls and
, wheat and cotton.
women are seated underneath the tree
and they strip the berries off and put
them in bakets. They are then brought
to the barbecues--huge cemented plat-
forms, also used for drying coffee, an-
netto, etc.—and are poured into bottom-
less box of frame holding 34 quarts.
The women are paid six cents a box.
The pimento is spread out to dry on the
barbecue, and at night is raked togeth-
er and covered over. Rainy days are
rare in Jamaica. During oar first nine
months we have but one day when the
rain tell from morning till night. Dur-
ing the rainy season (so-called) it rains
regularly for three to four hours in the
afternoons, and is gloriopsly fine all the
rest of the time. The heavy rainfalls
are called “pond rains,” either because
one of them could fill a pond or because
Dan Didn't Drink.
But Allthe Same, His Share of Whiskey Didn't i
Grow Any Older.
Somebody asked Secretary Lamont,
to take a drink the other day. Before
the Colonel could reply somebody else
told this story.
“That makes me think of the last
time I heard someone give the Colonel ;
the same invitation. It was during
Cleveland’s first term. The Presiden-
tial party was in St. Louis reviewing the
parade. It was a cold, blustering day,
the sort of weather which makes one
draw himself up into the smallest possi-
ble space. Gov. Francis. who was do-
ing the honors, looked at the President
standing stoically in the face of the
wind while the parade went by. Going
it seems as if a pond were being emptied | to Col. Lamont the Governor said :
out of the sky. One of them, lasting |
two hours, filled a 5,000 gallon cistern, :
and it is said to be a very moderate
specimen of a pond rain, too !
Wheat and Cotton.
The Repuklican organs are trying to
make capital of the fall in price of
They claim that
the decrease in price is due solely to
the victory of the Democratic party in
electing Mr. Cleveland, and imply that
prior to that time the price had remain.
ed high.
Mr. Cleveland was not elected until
November, 1892, and did not get into
office until March, 1893. How then do
the Republican organs explain the fact
that during the Republican adminis-
tration the price of cotton fell from
11.07 cents in 1890 to 8.6 cents in 1891
and to 7.71 cents in 18927?
We suppose they explain this by the
fact that during the two years prior to
Mr. Cleveland’s election everybody
koew he was going to be elected, there-
fore the price of cotten fell, If they
should claim this it would ouly be a
fair sample of the logic commonly used
by them in their efforts to defend a
Ligh tarift and blacken the Democrats.
What is the truth about the price of
wheat which these same organs claim
fell after Mr. Cleveland was elected
and because of his election? Wheat
fell from $1.10 in 1891 to 90 cents in
1892 and to 74 cents in 1893. What
of other products ? Corn fell from 70
cents in 1891 to 56 cents in 1892 and
to 50 cents in 1893. Bessemer pig iron
fell from $18.85 in 1890 to $15.95 in
1891, to $14.37 in 1892 and $12.87 in
1893.
The most noticeable thing about
these statistics and hundreds of others
which might be quoted is that while
these products continued to decline
after Mr. Cleveland's election the fall
in price did not start with his election
but was going on and at a much faster
rate before that time.
We must seek causes, therefore,
other than Mr. Cleveland’s election,
and they are easily found in the tariff
laws then existing and in the universal
fall in value of everything on account
of improper currency legislation and
the undermining of popular confidence.
All the troubles of the last two years
have been laid at the door of the Demo-
cratic party, and the severest sort of
punishment has been administered to
that party for them. But this punish-
ment was grossly unjust. The Demo-
cratic party was not responsible: they
simply came into power just in time to
shoulder the consequences of the acts
of the Republicans when they were in
power. The party has simply been the
scapegoat for the sins of the other
party, and some day the people will
see this and will do justice.
Pennsylvania Rallroad’s Second Tour
to “The Golden Gate.”
The large number of people who
have leisure, and the growing desire of
Americans to see the wonders of their
native land, are the principal agencies
in advancing a healthy sentiment in
favor of travel.
The Pennsylvania Railroad Com-
pany’s personally-conducted tours to
California will be conducted in all re-
spects as those of preceding years,
with some added advantages, which
cannot fail to attract the attention and
enlist the interest of the tourist.
In addition to the high grade ac-
commodations and entertainment in
transit, the Pennsylvania tourists are
treated with the same liberality where-
ever the journey is broken. The
choicest rooms in the leading hotels
are alway reserved for their use, for
which regular rates are’ paid, so that
the guests, although members of a
large party, enjoy all the privileges of
individuals who may have made their
own selections.
The second tour in the 1895 series to
the Golden Gate, will leave New York
and Philadelphia May 16, 1895.
Detailed itinerary will be sent on
application to Tourist Agent, 1196
Broadway, New York or Room 411,
Broad Street Station, Philadelphia.
40-10 3¢
The Ex-President Better.
Harrison Has Pleurodunia and Acute Bronchitis.
Inxpianaroris, Ind., March 9.—Ex-
President Benjamin Harrison is con-
from pleurodynia and acute bronchitis.
This was the diagnosis of the case
given by his physician. Dr. Henry
Jameson, this morning. “Mr. Harri-
son has been working very hard re
cently in the Morrison will case at
Richmond,” said Dr, Jameson. ‘When
he returned to his home last Saturday
amounted to grip. Sunday he took to
his bed, where he remained until
Thursday. Then he got up, but was
day. He now has acute bronchitis.
Thursday pleurodynia developed. He
is weak, but I do not think he is in
any danger. Overwork has much to do
with his sickness:
Mr. Harrison’s daughter, Mrs. Me-
Kee, who has been in New York, is
expected to arrive here to-night.
up. :
fined to his bed at his home suffering |
he was suffering from cold that almost |
compelled to go to bed again yester- |
|
|
| parts solidity and
“Colonel, do you eh—eh—think it
would—it would be right to ask the
President to eh—to take a drink—eh —
of whiskey ? Pretty cold you know,
and it would do him good.’
¢ ¢tAsk him to takea drink!” La-
mont exclaimed. ‘Good heavens, man !
do you mean to say that you have been
with the President twenty-four hours
and haven’t asked him to take a
drink ?”
“The Governor looked somewhat sur-
prised, but at the same time relieved*
admitted his guilt, and stepping to the
President, said :
« «Mr, President.’
¢‘The President, turaing around,
looked at him straight in the eye, which
seemed to take the sand out of the Gov-
ernor, who, blushing and stammering
like & young man about to propose to
his sweetheart said :
¢ ¢Eh, Mr. President, do you know
it is very cold to-day—eh—I thought
that maybe, just by way of a preventive
you know, that possibly you might
think it wise to take a smalldrink of—
eh—whiskey.’
“Where is it ?’ the President
very business like manner asked.
¢ ‘Right this way, said Gov. Francis}
and beckoning at the same time to La-
mont and the Mayor he led the party
to a room which contained a table on
which were four glasses half filled with
whiskey. The President looked at the
glasses aad said to Gov. Francis:
“ ¢Who are these for ?’
“ «Why, one, Mr. President, is for
you, one for Col. Lamont, one for the
Mayor, and one for myself.’
“The President took up one glass and
emptied its contents into another. Set-
ting down the empty glass he raised the
filled one carefully to his lips, and,
looking at the red liquor with an ex-
pression of sweet anticipation, said, just
betore emptying his glass: ‘Dan don’t
drink.” 2
ic a
Drug Drunkards.
—
The drugs mostly used are stimula-
ting narcotics, and the drunkards are
mostly women. Many of these belong
to the richer ranks of society, women
who find in these drugs an easier and
more genteel way of getting pleasantly
intoxicated than by drinking brandy.
Some years ago the syrup of the hy-
drate of chloral used to be a favorite
narcotic and intoxicant. The deadly
stuff slew its thousands and helped to
fill inebriate homes and private asy-
lume, Itis not at present, [ believe,
in such high repute. Laudanum and
solution of muriate of morphia still
hold sway, however. A lady began
taking a few drops of the latter in tea
of an afternoon when about 25 years
age. She is now 35 and prematurely
old, and no wonder—she pever has
less than seven ounces of laudanum a
day.
A favorite tipple with some ladies—
especially, I think, on long sea voy-
ages—is eau de Cologne. Those who
drink it hardly know the danger they
incur. Itis only the rectified spirits in
it that stimulate ; the other ingredients
or oils are very deleterious, if not poi-
sonous. But one of the most deadly
drugs a woman can drink is chloro-
dyne. When she takes to this she has
gold herself body and soul to the devil,
and at a very low price indeed. Chloro-
dyne contains not only capsicum and
peppermint, but Indian hemp, morphia,
chloroform and prussic acid.
Paper Hosiery.
Gloves, Stockings and Other Wear to Be Made
From Paper Yarns.
Paper gloves and hosiery are named
as among the very latest novelties.
Stockings which shall sell at three
cents a pair are proposed. In fact,
the experiment of making paper stock-
ings has been going on for several
months, and the party engaged therein
believes that paper mittens or gloves
would possess advantages 1n their sea-
son. The goods are light and airy and
very comfortable in summer.
When finished and dyed their ap-
pearance is similar to ordinary fabric
goods. The kitting is from paper
yarns, The paper yarns are made pret-
ty much after the plan of making com-
mon paper twines except that the
former are put through certain special
processes. The principle is that of
making a sort of nap on the yarn.
This is done automatically. Ordinary
paper twine or yarn is too smooth, but
a good gigging up gives the yarn a nap
and this imparts eoftness. After the
knitting has been done the goods are
placed in a sizing bath made from
potato starch and tallow, which im-
durability to the
texture.
With paper passenger car wheels,
paper water-pails, why not paper socks
and stockings ?
She Had Him.
Wife—You say that you were de-
tained at the office over a will case ?
Great Lawyer—Yes, A consultation
with the heir.
Wife—Ah, yes; I see you've brought
it home on your shoulder. Blonde,
too, wasn’t it ?
——Mue. Lillian Nordica, of speak-
ing success in opera, in anewer to a
This afternoon the ex-President was question as to what one quality more
very much improved and was sitting than another was required to be a great
ginger, said, “Will, will, will!”
For and About Women.
. Miss Lily Marshall, an English girl,
is the inventor of the fine iridescent ef-
fects in brass work which have attacted
so much attention. The secret of the
process is known only to her brother
2a beret She has a studio in New
ork.
An exceedingly stylish new coat is
made of dull green broadcloth combined
with black moire and polka-dotted silk
and is trimmed with narrow sable fur.
The cloth part of the garment ends ab-
ruptly at the waist line and the full coat
skirts are of the silk. The front is ar-
ranged in the full double-twisted revere
of the silk and cloth, combined with a
judicious mixture of the fur, which also
finishes all edges, including that of the
cloth jacket effect at the waist.
Buttons are coming in again, both
for coats, vests, fancy waists and for fas-
tening the side or front breadths of
gored skirts, redingotes and cycle cos-
tumes.
Carmelite brown and fawn are going
to be the favorite colors for cloth coats
and capes and for costumes of tweed
and such like materials throughout the
early spring.
A gown that will always look cool
and sweet for the coming warm days
may be made ot duck suiting in a shade
of tan trimmed with white duck. The
skirt has no trimming, is very wide at
the feet, the fullness leaning toward the
front. The waist is made coat fashion,
with two tiny pockets inserted on the
outside and revers falling back to the
sleeves. A vest of white duck is worn
with this, the top being finished with a
high standing collar. The cuffs are
made of the white, and small white
buttons are used down one side of the
vest.
The young women of to-day do not
carry themselves well. They stand bad-
ly and walk badly and furthermore the
young men of to-day are noticing it.
They tell me so.
‘Why, said a modern young Apollo
Belvedere to me the other day, “I wish
the girls would take gymnastics ; they
stoop, curve in their shoulders, stock
out below the waist, and have a general-
ly bad carriage.”
Alas, this is but too sadly true! Phys-
ical improvement will be the next cry
even to the exclusion of the mental, and
some of it at least, would be excellent,
most excellent.
Among the new waists are those with
very much bagginess at the lower part
of the front. These waists are made
long, then gathered into belts. the extra
fullness, in some cases amounting to
three or four inches, being allowed, to
sag over the waist-line at will.
A gown of nickle gray cloth has
trimming of fine black passementerie.
It is made with a short jacket, for
which women of short statue should be
devoutly thankful. These long jackets,
with so little of the skirt showing below,
made dwarfs of half the women who
wore them. This jacket has embryo
godets in the back, but they are of
course, not long enough to develop in-
to full-fledged pleats. It is trimmed
around the edge with the passemente-
rie. A white marine collar of white
bengaline is trimmed with passement-
erie edged with feather trimming. Un-
derneath the jacketis a vest of gray
surah laid in pleats and brought under a
crush belt and collar of the same ma-
terial. The skirt is round and trimmed
with the passementerie that appears on
the jacket.
A new variety of vest is coming in. It
suggests the full dress vest that men
wear, but it is not so low. A spring
dress with this vest is made of a beige
serge. The jacket is cut zouave fashion,
revealing a waistcoat of red cloth,
which is buttoned with small brass but-
tons. The waistcoat is cut oval shape
and a chemisette and collar of white
batiste is inserted. The revers are or-
namented with fancy buttons. But-
tons are sufficient trimming for the
handsomest gown if they are only hand-
some buttons. Those set with brillants
and enameled are the most costly. Oth-
ers are very finely cut steel, and some
are fancy pearl.
Spring hats are so covered with flow-
ers that the straw beneath is scarcely
visible. The flowers used are aggres-
sive type—such as poppies and daisies
and immense roses. A black lace hat
was almost concealed beneath two im-
mense red poppies the size of peonies.
A child’s hat of black leghorn had
five differe it kinds of flowers on it. It
gave one the impression of having been
trimmed with nosegays picked by child-
ish hands. The nodding buttercups
and daisies and bachelor buttons were
mixed in with dandelions and poppies,
and little tufts of grass peeped out here
and there. Wild flowers of all the
spring varieties are the favorite for
spring hats. A brown leghorn had
cowslips and poppies and dandelions
mingled indiscriminately.
Some hats are made entirely of flow-
ers, with velvet bows as trimming. A
hat of violets had cerise velvet bows
and made a stunning finish for a stun-
ning costume of gray serge. Thisgown
had a bolero of cream lace on the bod-
ice. At the neck was a bow of cerise
velvet like that on the hat. The skirt
was made with a panel in front, and
slightly draped over the hips. Around
the bottom was a band of cream lace.
The correct thing to wear around
one’s neck is a flower boa. A pretty
one made of little bunches of violets al-
ternating with two or three large
leaves was tied with violet satin ribbon.
Another was, made of large red roses
and leaves. These were marked $15.50
but if one happens to have some flowers
left from last summer’s hat itis possi-
ble to have such a boa for almost noth-
ing. They may be tied with satin rib-
bon or finished with a fall of wide cream
lace, and nothing makes so pretty a fin-
ish for a pretty costume,