i
LQ
Bellefonte, Pa., Nov. 8, 1895.
DISCIPLINED.
With earnest pleading when We seek
To know (od's perfect teaching,
To fit us for our lifework here,
His guidance thus beseeching ;
He givedlus light to see, a heart
To feel His manifesting,
And strengthens Faith until we feel
Sweet peace, when on him resting.
We would be grateful for each rich
Each dear and Heaven sent blessing ;
Would worship give, with homage due—
His mighty power confessing ;
He quickent dull preceptions, thus
Reveals most wondrous beauty
In earth and sky, in sea and shore,
And even in daily duty.
We would choose Wisdom as the best
Of every earthiy treasure : Tr
He makes us hunger, thirst to drink
The fountain without measure :
He leads us by the stony path,
The mountain steep ascending, 2
Whera broader visions, rose crowned heights
And harmonies are blending.
We would be His, and His alone;
Ah ! here the heart has fainted !
He shatters idols one by one,
Our love for them aftainted.;
Removes our dear ones ; severs ties
By many sad negations ;
But fills the soul with brightest hopes
And heavenly consolations.
AEE RRR 0
THE MAN IN BLACK AND HIS MIS-
TAKE.
A Little Romance That Was Quite Out of the
Ordinary.
Reginald Van Swellum muttered :
“Confound it!"
He moved his head so far to the
right in his eflort to get a glimpse of
the face behind the paper novel that it
crashed into the bonnet of the woman
in the seat next him on thatside ; then
he leaned over to the left; and his
derby crumpled the paper in which the
crusty individual on that hand was en-
grossed, and the crusty individual, in
turn, scowled at him. It was of no use.
He could see but her pretty hat and a
tew waves of soft dark hair beneath it;
two small hande neatly gloved, a trim
waist; the face was hidden by the blue-
backed novel that she was reading. So
he was compelled to stare disconso
lately at the binding and at the great
black letters thereon, which read : “A
Fatal Love.”
The guard thrust his head into the
car and bawled: “Nexate!” The
door banged shut and Van Swellum
again muttered : “Confound it! and
Fourteen’s mine.”
He craned his neck in an endeavor
to see over the top of the paper vol
ume. But it was in vain.
Then a great hulking Italian got
right in the middle of the aisle and
completely shut off his view. Van
Swellum was inwardly calling down
vengeance on his stupid head when
the train swung around the curve and
the man toppled over. There was a
slight feminine scream. Van Swel-
lum jumped from his place and picked
“A Fatal Love” from beneath a for-
eigner’s feet, and while the discomfited
fellow was pouring forth apologies in
broken English, be politely handed the
crumpled volume to its blushing own-
er, Then, for the first {ime he saw
her face, and he was not disappointed.
Beneath the wavy brown hair he
found a broad, white forehead, delicate
brown lashes, clear blue eyes, a
straight, well.cut nose, full rounded
cheeks, pink with health, and a mouth
—when Van Swellum saw it parted in
a emile be fell back in his seat and
muttered : “Thank vou, my clumsy
Italian friend.”
The novel hid the face from view
again, and he stared blankly at the
blue binding and lost himeelt in
thought.
“Plaguey pretty. Kuoew there was
something behind that book worth
looking at. 1'd like to meet her. I
wonder where she lives and who she
is. Nothing like ber in our set. Now
if mother would pick out something
like that for me, I would be willing.
But Aogelica Billions ; ugh! Well,
money and déauty never do go hand
in hand. What a mouth! TI really
think she smiled at me when—""
“T-e-e-n |" bawled the guard.
Van Swellum started.
“Fourteen ?”” he inquired of the
crusty individual next him. That per-
sonage nodded stolidly at him in reply.
He jumped from his seat, dashed
through the car and was just in time
to force his way through the closing
gates.
He threaded his way down the
crowded stairs and started up Sixth
avenue. Suddeniy he halted ; then he
smiled and plunged on among the
crowd. Right ahead was the pink
ehirt; and the neat hat, the brown hair
and a haad holding the blue backed
novel.
“She must live arcund here,”
thought the now excited Van Swellum.
“If she does, I'll find where : and if I
find where—adien to all thoughts of
Angelica Billions. Mother'll kick,
but what's a mother’s kicking to a
son’s happiness.”
He stopped. She had turned into a
small shop. He would wait until she
came out. He walked very slowly,
until he found that he was getting
dangerously near the store. She
might discover him. He wheeled
about and walked slowly back, fre-
quently glancing about to see that she
did not escape him. Teu minutes and
che had not come out. Could she
have seen him and escaped by a back
door? He would find out. He
turned and walked rapidly up the ave-
nue by the shop; he looked in the
window and gasped. It was-a shock
to Reginald Van Swellum. She had
removed her hat and was seated on a
high stool at a cashier's desk. He
glanced at the sign above the door and
read : ‘The Ruination Dyeing Com-
pany.”” Then he muttered “Confound
it I" and hurried away.
Any one acquainted with New York
genealogy will appreciate Reginald
Van Swellum’s thoughts and his posi-
tion. ‘here is no older nor prouder
family on all Manhattan Island than
the Van Swellame. Three of the
name were members of the Governor's
Council in the early days of New Am-
sterdam, They had” possessed many
fine cabbage patches on the outskirts
of the settlement which still remain in
the hold of the family, Twenty-story
buildings rear their heads where once
the good Van Swellums dug, hoed and
weeded when not busy with affairs of
state. Reginald Van Swellum was
not the brainiest of his line, a fact of
which he was perfectly aware. In
consequence of this knowledge he wise-
ly refrained from entering any business
or profession, not wishing to imperil
the fruits of his ancestors’ industry.
He was not energetic, and not being
energetic, did not care for society. It
bored him. It was easier to read
about it, comfortably settled in an easy
chair before a bright, cozy fire, with a
fragrant pipe in his mouth. His
mother was a widow, who lived a quiet
life between her old house on lower
Fifth avenue and her comfortable
place up on the Hudson. To have
her son safely and properly settled was
her sole care. She had chosen for
him Angelica Billions. To be sure,
Mies Billions’ family on her father's
side was not all that could be desired,
but then there was money, and, that
covers a multitude of sins. The only
drawback to the match was Regirald.
But doubtless he, too, would have suec-
cumbed if it had not been for the
clumsy Italian on the elevated train
who discovered to him a more charm-
ing prospect in life.
Van Swellum’s sensibilities were
shocked his ideal’s connection with
the Ruination Dyeing Company. He
felt that his blood called on him to
forget, and for the next few weeks he
busied himself with the work of forget-
ting as he had never busied himself
at anything before. He would fix his
favorite arm-chair before the fireplace
in which the logs crackled right mer-
rily, and with a pipe in his mouth
would endeavor to lose himself in some
stirring novel. By and by the book
falls from his hand and he is gazing
absently into the clond of gray smoke
curling up from the bowl.
What is that in the. depths of the
thick whirling cloud? A blue cur
tain. Van Swellum leans forward and
gazes intently. Black letters are
forming there. Now they stand out
clearly and boldly—A Fatal Love. A
smile of content spreads over his coun-
tenance, for now the blue veil is lifiing
and a sweet face beams on him from
the gray cloud. He starts. The
smile departs. Over the fair face with
its crown of rich hair more letters are
forming. He reads: “The Ruina-
tion Dyeing Company-"
One day he gave up forgetting.
“George I" he called. His man ap-
peared at the door.
“Put that new grey spring suit in a
bag for me, No. Just the trousers.
They’ll do.”
George looked surprised.
“You'd better let me attend to what
you want, sir. I can help you.”
“I wish you could, my dear man ;
but you can’t.
A few minutes later he was hurry-
ing along Sixth avenue. He came to
a halt in front of the shop and looked
in. She wae behind the desk. He
hesitated 8 moment; then entered
resolutely and threw his bag upon the
counter. She hurried to wait on him
and, as their eyes met, started. She
recognized him and blushed. Van
Swellum blushed, too, to the roots of
his hair. It had just occurred to him
that she would remember him. She
recovered herself and said pleasantly :
“What can we do for you ?""
Hesilently fumbled the bag and fi
nally succeeded in opening it.
“I want 'em dyed,” he stammered.
“What color 2” ghe asked, drawing
a pencil from behind her ear and pre-
paring to make a note.
“Well — er — hanged if I know.
What's a good color ?”
The thin little young man with a
crooked nose, who had been moving
some cases about the store, stopped
his work and grinned at him.
; The sight of him roused Van Swel-
um.
“Make ’em black,” he exclaimed.
“Of course I wanted 'em black.”
With that he turned the contents of
the bag on the counter and rushed
away.
All thoughts of Angelica Billions
were shattered : all deference for his
mother's wishes gone. Of course she
would object. But who could help it ?
It was fate. Suppose that grinning
idiot was making love to her there in
the shop every day. He would not
stand it! To the winds with the Van
Swellums and the Van Swellum blood!
He was a man, and for once wae going
to have his own way.
Four days later he called and got
his trousers, all black and shrunk in-
to shapelessness. But what did he
care? He was composed now and de-
termined.
“It seems to we,” he said, as he
leaned over the counter, “that we have
met before.”
She smiled divinely, and replied,
“Yes. And ain’t it queer we've met
again ?”
The “ain’t” jarred on Van Swel-
lum’s nerves, but he cast it aside as a
small matter. He could cure that
very quickly.
“Yes,” he replied, leaning further
over the counter. He blushed and
whispered : “Perhaps it was fate.”
A beautiful red suffused her cheeks,
and Van Swellum decided that he had
gone far enough for the present, and
departed, gaily swinging his bag and
feeling well content with the world and_
himself,
On the next day he left the gray
coat at the shop to have it dyed also.
A brown golf suit, his light check
trousers, his tennis flannels, his old
and new covert coat, his driving coat,
| two pairs of light striped trousers, his
riding breeches and two suits of tweed,
imported from England, followed in!
rapid succession to the vats, They
were sacrificed on the altar ot his love, |
[he said gayly to bimeelf. His man |
George was aghast at the devastation,
and vainly remonstrated. He wag’
promptly rebuffed and received no ex-
planation of the strange havoc his
macter was making in his wardrobe.
He would have reported the young
man’s unaccountable conduct with his
own suspicion that he was mentally
unbalanced to Mrs. Van Swellum, but
she had gone to the country a month
back. Van Swellum had promised to
follow her in a week, but instead kept
staying on in town until now the sum-
mer was well advanced.
May flew by ; June came and went ;
July opened. At length one day Van
Swellum stood in the middle of his
dressing room gazing about him at the
sartorial derelicts which George had
laid out for bis inspection, He smiled.
“1 guess,” he said aloud, “I'll have
to bring this business to a close. Peo-
ple’ll think I'm in mourning, if this
keeps on. Only one dyeable garment
left. That delightful brown and red
plaid that Cutem just sent over last
month I'll try to-day and perhaps [
can save it, if she says ‘Yes. Oh,
my! Whata howdee it'll make! I
guess we'll go abroad for a while.”
He chuckled softly. :
“And my friend, the grinning idiot,
that handles cases, Well, I guess he'll
outgrow his grief.”
He folded the last dyeable garment
in the bag and started away on his er-
rand. There was no one in the store,
for it was late in the afternoon. She
reeted him cordially as usual, as he
aid his burden on the counter and
slowly opened it.
“I have something I want to tell
you,” she said with a little blush and
a little gueh.
“And I,” he said firmly, leaning his
elbows on the counter, resting his chin
in his hands and gazing at her, “have
something I want to tell you.”
“But,” she began, naively, ‘*‘you
have been 80 good to us this summer ;
you have brought us so much trade;
business, you know, was very dull be-
fore you came, and you have helped
us—""
“Helped you!” exclaimed Van Swel-
lum. “Nothing has delighted me
more, Miss—er—er—'" He hesitated
for he did not know her name.
“Well, you have,” she replied, her
eyes lighting with gratitude. “And
Jim and me are very thankful. You
see, you were our first customer, and I
tell you we didn’t take in much money
when we started the Ruination Dyeing
Company after our marriage—"
“Married I” gasped Van Swellum,
straightening up.
“Why, didn’t you know Jim and me
were married ?’’ she cried. “Oh, Jim,
Jim, come here!”
Van Swellum turned in time to see
the thin little young man enter the
store from the rear room.
“Have ’em. dyed black !"’ he cried,
tumbling the contents of his bag on
the counter. “I'll send for ’em.”
With that he rushed wildly from
the shop.
-Not long after he stood again in the
middle of his room, the wrecks of his
wardrobe about him.
“Black,” he said, slowly puffing at
his pipe. “Everything black—mourn-
ing—fitting emblem. The grinning
idiot—confound him. Did he know—
did she know? Confound it! It's
good they don’t know my name, To
think that such a beauty would take
to such a whipper-snapper of a speci- |
men !”
Van Swellum laughed ironically.
“Creorge !”” be cried.
The man appeared at the door.
“George,” said Van Swellum, sol-
emnly, “I'm an ass. Don’t you think
I'm an ass ?”
“I doa’t know, sir,” replied George,
stammering confusedly.
“Well, I am,” said Van Swellum,
emphatically.
“If you insist, sir,” replied George,
stolidly.
Van Swellum was lost in thought
for a moment.
“George,” he said, suddenly. “The
Paris sails to morrow. Go quick, now
and telephoue for passages for you and
myself |”?
The man hesitated. © “About clothes
sir,” he said.
“I'll go over in mourning,” said Van
Swellum, smiling. And when George
had withdrawn he added suddenly :
“And the Billions are in London.
Confound it, it's fate—New York
Sun.
The Making of Visits.
Don’t visit slight acquaintances for
a longer period than a month—it you
do, however, do not complain of the
food.
When you visit relatives, be gener-
ous. Do not ingist on their returning
the visit.
If a servant purloin your watch do
not complain to your hostess. Take
one of hers you stand a chance of get-
ting the better of the bargain.
Don’t gossip about Your fone un-
til you have concluded yout visit. Do
not get so interested in her private cor-
respondence as to become preoccupied
unless you are quite sure she will not
return quite unexpectedly.
Do not spank her children for ber,
or ofter to lighten her sorrows by pois-
oning any of her canines and felines,
While a guest does not borrow any-
thing but money. You would have to
return anything else.
. Be blithesome and cheerful. In a
word act as though you were entirely
at home, which is equivalent to eaying
do not act as you do when you are at
home.
BE e———————————
Siberia is a Big Place.
A graphic idea of the immense size
of Siberia may be gleaned from the fol-
lowing comparison : All of the States,
kingdoms and principalities, empires,
etc., of Europe (except Russia) and all
the United States, including Alaska,
could be placed side by side in Siberia
and yet but little more than cover that
immense country. °
ee Se ——
——The Sultan of Turkey always
eats alone, except for the servants in
attendance. He uses only a spoon or
his fingers.
Holmes Found Gallty.
The Jury Quickly Reached a Verdict of Mur-
der wn the First Degree—Application for a
New Trial.
PHILADELPHIA, Nov. 3.—It only re-
quired one ballot last night for the jury
to convict H. H. Holmes, alias Howard
Mudgett, of murder in the first degree
for the killing of Benjamin F. Pietzel
The jury retired at 5:40 o’clock in the
afternoon, and though their verdict was
unanimously reached on the first ballot.
they thought it befiiting the gravity of
the occasion to pause before returning
to court. Consequently they ate their
supper and were back in court at 10
minutes before: 9 o'clock. When the
verdict was announced Holmes stood,
erect in the dock, his pallor only seem-
ing to grow a little deeper than usual.
He made a great exhibition of nerve as
the words that may send him to the
gallows were pronounced. His shrunk-
en form never trembled, and his lips
betrayed no quiver. His counsel, Mr.
Rotan, immediately made a motion tor
a new trial, based upon the insufficiency
of the evidence that Pietzel had been
murdered, and Judge Arnold fixed
November 18 as the date for bearing ar-
guments upon the motion.
District Attorney Graham opened the
proceedings yesterday by his address for
the prosecution, and Mr. Rotan follow-
e defense. Judge Arnold’s
to the jury wasean explicit state-
ment of the evidence, but rather leaned
to the'»id® of the prosecution. IfJudge
Arnold refuses a new trial the case will
probably be carried to the Supreme
court. After being taken back to jail
Holmes made a statement in which he
said that he was innocent, and that
while lack of time and money to pre-
pare his case had brought about this
temporary defeat.of justice, he was sure
of being vindicated in the end. He
claimed that he had told the truth when
he admitted that the body found was
really that of Pietzel, and that he had
arranged the corpse so as to suggest ac-
cident, in order that his family might
get the insurance money.
Holmes is suspected of having mur-
dered 23 persons to defraud insurance
companies of the amounts of the policies
upon their lives. Besides the murder
of Benjamin F. Pietzel, he is alleged to
have killed Alice and Minnie Pietzel
and Howard Pietzel, children of Ben-
jamin ; Julia A. Connor, her daughter,
Pearl Connor; Emeline C. Cigrand,
his stenographer ; Robert E. Phelps,
who, according to Holmes’s story, mar-
ried Miss Cigrand ; Emily Van Tassel,
Nana Williame and Minnie R. Wil-
liams. Beside these 11 who have been
identified there are traces of 12 more
mer, women and children who were
never seen alive after they had entered
the dens which Holmes kept in vari-
ous cities in this country and Canada.
Unwelcome Guests.
A Highly Conventional Social Visit by a Party
of Indians.
Some years ago three men were camp-
ing in the Sierra Nevada mountains,
killing deer, fishing and cooking delec-
table food. One day it happened that
one of them had twisted his ankle, and
the others went hunting without him.
As he could not move about he was
naturally somewhat bored, and after
reading awhile in the shade of a tree he
fell asleep. Thus he tells what followed.
I woke up with a start and the feel-
ing that something was about to hap-
pen. Something had happened. Fifteen
Indians satin a half circle about me,
waiting for me to stir.
They had fixed upon me their 15
pairs of black, beady eyes, and not one
of them moved a muscle. All of them
had guns, and, what was more impor-
tant, each had presumably two sound
legs, whereas I was handicapped by my
lameness.
I looked at them, and they continued
looking at me. A lightning express of
speculation ran through my head. I re-
membered that the deputy sheriff of the
nearest settlement had lately shot an
Indian by accident and that the tribe
had sworn to have his scalp. Did I
look like the deputy sheriff ? Was it
my scalp they wanted ?
Their eyes never wandered, bul mine
did, for I could not help glancing at
my gun, at least 15 feet away, and at
the spot where a big Indian sat compus-
edly on my cartridges. Finally one buck
made a remark.
“Fishhook ?’’ said he.
“No,” said I. “No fishhook.”
Silence again for 15 minutes. Then
another indicated by a glance a piece
of vension hung up 1n a tree and grun-
-ted his approval of it. I nodded, and he
rose, solemnly took it down and laid it
on the ground beside him.
A little, boyish fellow, with eyes more
restless than those of the others, remov-
ed his gaze from me to a greasy piece of
red flannel beside me, with which one
of our men had been cleaning his gun.
I took 1t up and held it out to him, and
he accepted it with outward composure
and, I bave no doubt, inward rapture.
Then we had another period of silent
reflection, and they rose, stalked solemn-
ly away to their horses tethered in a
neighboring grove and rode off. They
had made me a highly conventional
social visit.
A Mutual Compliment.
Neighbor—1I called to say that you
must keep your dog from barking ; he
won't let our baby sleep.
Householder—I'm glad you called. I
wanted to say that if you don’t keep
your baby from crying, I shall have to
enter a complaint. It annoys my dog
awfully.
The Only Explanation.
Chollie—Youah daughtah has con-
sented to mawy me an—er—I’d like to
know if there is any insantity in youah
family ?
Old Gentleman (emphatically)—
There must be ?
Perfectly True.
Summer Boarder—I thought you
said you had no flies or mosquitoes on
the farm.
Farmer (promptly)—We ain't got
[any on the farm. We keep ‘em all in
"the house, -
“Coal QilJohnny” in Luck,
A Bank Into Which he Pitched a Pile of Money
Returns It to Him When He Needs It,
John Steele, known as ‘Coal Oil
Johnny” 30 years ago, is just now a
plan, sober, steady business man, work-
ing under the direction of his son, who
is the railroad ticket and freight agent
at Ashland, Neb. Steele fell into sudden
wealth as the adopted son of the widow
McClintock when he inherited her oil-
producing lands in Venango county,
in March 1862. That was just about
the time of the early boom in petroleum
and Steele found that he had more mon-
ey on his hands than he knew what to
do with. He married the daughter of
one of his workmen, who taught him to
sign his name, and then he came to
Philadelphia with his pockets stuffed
with money. The life of prodigality
and uncontrolled dissipation, into which
he plunged was so wild as to be almost
beyond belief. He ordered champagne,
not by the bottle, but by the basket.
He gave a $50,000 diamond to a negro-
minstrel for singing a song that pleased
him. He frequently bought carriages
and the teams attached when he wished
to ride a few blocks, and then presented
them to the drivers. >
On one occasion he wagered a bottle
of wine that he would spend, actually
paying out ‘‘for fun.” and not giving
away, $10,000 a day for 60 days, and
won the bottle. At another time he re-
ceived a large sum of money from the
rentals of the farm when he was on the
street and quite drunk. It was in bank
notes, as he always required it, checks
being objects of suspicion with him, and
when he had stuffed it into his pockets
they bulged out like those of an upchin
after a raid on an apple orchard. \ His
coat could not set well on him, padded
with money as he was, and he was dis-
gusted.
Just then he caught sight of a bank,
and, rushing into it with the airy for-
mality of ; ‘Here, take care of this
damned stuff for me. It’s a nuisance,”
dumped the whole pile before the re-
ceiving teller, and went away, ere that
functionary could take breath or gather
his wits sufficiently to give any evi-
dence of the deposit. And when “Coal
Oil Johnny,” as John Steele was by
thie time known, tried, in a briet spasm
of sobriety, to remember where he had
left all that money, he was quite unable
to doso. And, he decided, to. hunt it
up would involve more trouble than it
was worth. Its less did not worry him
at all.
But that act was his salvation. Af-
ter he had squandered all bis money he
went to work driving the Girard house
stage in Philadelphia to and from the
depots, and afterward went back to
Oil creek, where be worked as a
freight handler for $256 a month.
His wife raised enough money by the
sale of her jewelry to take them to
Ashland, Neb., where they struggled
along for several years, until the direc-
tors of the Philadelphia bank into
which Steele had thrown the money
years ago heard of his plight. After
they had satisfied themselves of his
identity, they forwarded him the mon-
ey, which is said to amount to $80,000,
and with it Steele has bought a farm of
7C0 acres. .
Lincoln and Gay. Tod.
The Latter Explained Why He Spelled His
Name With One D. Lor
There are numerous anecdotes con-
nected with Lincoln which seem to
have caught something of grace from
that connection and which can well be
reproduced in this place.
One concerns his meeting with Gov-
ernor Tod, of Ohio. Mr. Lincoln said
to him at one time :
“I never could understand how you
came to spell your name with only one
d. Now, I married a Todd, and she
spells her name with two ds, and I be-
lieve she knows how tospell. What is
your authority for using only one ?”’
“Well,” drawled Governor Tod, “my
authority for it is in part the fact that
God spells His name with only one d,
and it seems 1 should be satisfied if He
is.”
Lincoln often told this story and it
amused him immensely. Some men
have declared the whole incident was a
matter of his own creation and that the
talented Ohioan had never made the ex-
cellent reply accredited to him. Wheth-
er or not that is the case, the fact re-
mains that the conception always seem-
ed vastly entertaining to Lincoln.
The Right Thing at Last.
Ex-Governor Roberts, of Texas, is a
queer character. Recently he was call-
ed upon to deliver an address to the in-
mates of the State penitentiary. The
Governor consented, and after reviewing
his audience a few minutes, began :
“‘Gentlemen——"’
‘But no,” he hesitated, ‘you’re not
gentlemen or you would not be here.”
‘Fellow-citizens, then —"'
He stopped again.
“No, you're not citizens, either.”
The Governor grew impatient for
want of something to say.
“Well,” he began again, ‘‘it doesn’t
matter what you are. I'm glad to see
so many of you here.”—New Fork
Journal.
The Cow Was a Kind Beast.
Section foremen are required to send
in a report, giving details of all acci-
dents to cattle and the disposition of the
remains. Not long ago the superinten-
dent of a local road received a report of
the killing of a cow, but nothing was
said about the disposion of the remains,
and he dictated the following note to
the foreman :
Dear Sir—Your report gives no par-
pajpiae about the disposition of the
“Morse cow killed.”
The section foreman sent back the fol-
lowing answer: =
“Dear Sir——The disposition of the
Morse cow was very kind.
MiSs Anthony Still Active
Miss Susan B. Anthony, says the
Boston Herald, authorizes the an-
nouncement that, although 76 years of
age, she does not propose to retire from
activity in the cause with which her
name is identified. Like her venerable
co-laborer and contemporary, Julia
Work Howe, she will continue in the
harness, Long life yet to these choice
specimens of earnest womanhood !
For and About Women .
It is no longer considered good taste
to flaunt the corpse of one of God’s
sweetest and most useful creatures on
one’s bonnet, How can a Christian wo-
men be cruel enough to decorate herself
with the dear blithsome birds, which
have almost been exterminate simply to
please the vanity of the fair sex. Thank
goodness the people of refinement and
taste neither wear black birds or egrets
and even the most fashionable milliners
in New York acknowledge the rapidly
increasing use of ostrich lips and plumes
which do not mean the life of a
bird.
Mrs. Charles Green, of Baltimore, is
having built at Old Orchard, Me., a
‘Seaside Rest’’ for missionaries of all
churches, when recruiting from their
labors. They will be expected to pay
75 cents a day for lodgings, with every
comfort and luxury. Their meals will be
free. The places being beautifully fit-
ted up, and will probably be dedicated
early in June next year.
Bread as the staff’ of life is a familiar
enough idea, but bread as a means of
beauty has never received enough con-
sideration. It is a subject which the
persistent and consistent speaker after
good looks will study. Observation
and physiological research will show
her that fine wheat bread mens a pasty
or even a rough complexion, that pim-
ples follow in the wake of hot bread,
and that smooth, rosy skins belongs to
those who eat a coarse, whole-grain cold
bread. For the latter are best for the
digestion, and guod complexions accom-
pany only good digestion.
A woman's dress waist these days
is like a salad. It doesn’t matter much
about the basis of either, just so the
dressing is good. Any clever woman
can have a pretty waist, if she uses her
eyes and observes how easily a plain
dress is transformed into a party gown
by the addition of a collarette. The
new collarettes have long tabs on the
shoulders, and either tabs or points in
front. These are made of lace insertion,
of ribbon, or of passementerie, and are
edged with wide lace gathered very full.
Sometimes the lace is draped-up to the
shoulders to resemble a bow knot, but
the long slopping effect on the shoulder
is preferabla.
If Paris fashions are to be adopted the
long fur boa will not be seen this win-
ter. Monster fur collars and short boas
with many dangling tails have taken its
place. The collars are comfortable-
looking affairs and may be turned up so
high about the head that they strongly
resemble & hood: Russian collars of
fur forming broad revers are seen on
many of the most exclusive coats, and
high Medici collars are also popular.
Necklets of fur four “inches deep are
much in fashion. They are fastened in
front with a little animal’s head and
two or three tails and finished at the
back with a large velvet bow.
The toreador belt is the very newest
thing about the waist of the autamn
girl. It is made of a square of bandana
or tartan plaided silk doubled and fold-
ed bias to about the width of four inches;
this is clasped with a fancy buckle eith-
er in front or at the side, and the point-
ed ends are left to droop in the skirt ;
the bias band readily adapts itself to the
waist and covers the intefsection of the
waist band. A Windsor tie, knotted in
a large bow or a four-in-hand, accom-
panies the belt, which is an effective ad-
junct to a dress.
Mats for pictures are wider than ever.
Gray and a dull parchment vellow are
the correct thing. In pictures of well-
known places, cathedrals, buildings, ete.
this parchment is most attractive ; the
frame in such cases is usually of black
wood. o>
The most noticeable featups of the
new bodice is the coat effect,” which is
given by an added basque from six to
twelve inches deep, bill below a
very narrow belt. ~It #8 usually cut
somewhat circular in shape, so the edge
hangs in fluted folds, or plaited in full
box plaits at the back. Another fancy
is a basque at the back only, having the
hips and front quite plain. And still
more welcome revivals of fashion are the
pointed waists and princesse gowns,
which are so becoming to stout figures.
Louis XVI coats of velvet and flowered
silk are to be worn with black satin and
and velvet, flowered in soft rose colors,
are made coat fashion, with a short flut-
ed basque cut low in the neck in front
and trimmed with white feathers and
lace.
For outside wear the fashionable girl
still clings to lacy, fluffy things about
her neck. One of the most stylish girls
I have seen this fall wore a black gown
with a flaring neck ruches of stiff, but
fine black net. [t stood out eight
inches, up around her face and head
and out over her shoulders, There was
a smart bow at theback of the neck
and a pink rose on one shoulder. Her
hat was black, with ostrich feathers and
ink flowers underneath next the
air.
Such wraps as the above are being
worn until the cold weather drives us
to something warmer, but all the indi-
cations point to the fact thai this is to be
a fur season. Dresses are trimmed with
it, hats- wraps, even lace collarettes.
An early autumn dress has its fur trim-
ming put on in a very sensible way.
The skin is not cut up into little edges
that have no warmth in. them, and are
a waste of heat-giving clothing, but is
placed on the shoulder, whole, to pro-
tect the upper arm. The lower edge is
slashed to resemble tails that suggest
the passementerie points worn on sleeves
nowadays.
But it is a pity to put fur on before
Thanksgiving, for there is plenty of
time to wear it after that, and one can
get too much of even so good a thing as
fur.
Long coats for traveling or bad
weather wear have deep rippling capes
attached and usually pointed hoods in
addition, though these last are a matter
of personal taste.
EE