Deuorvaic, aly
Bellefente, Pa., Nov. 29, 1895.
THANKSGIVING.
Fhe fair senny summer is faded -and pat,
And glad golden autumn is ended at last ;
The days of the sowing and growing are o'er,
Of reaping and heaping the rich harvest store.
The ripe rosy apples are gli gathered in,
They wait fcr the winter in barrel and bin ;
And nuts for the children, a plentiful store,
Are spread out to dry on the'broad attic floor ;
Use great golden pumpkins, that grew such a
size, ;
Are ready to make into Thanksgiving pies;
And all the the good times ‘that children
hold dear
Have come round again with the feast of the
year.
Now what shall we do in cur'bright, happy
homes :
To welcome this time of good times as it
comes ? 3
And what, do you say, is the very best way
Toshow we are thankful on Thanksgiving
Bay ?
The-best thing that hearts that are thankful
can do
Is this; to make thankful some other hearts
00 ;
For lives that are grateful and sunny and
lad
To WE their sunshine to'lives that are sad ;
For children who have ail they want aad ‘to
spare, : :
Their good things with-poor little children to
share ;
For this will bring blessing, and this is the
way os
To show we are thankfu! op Thanksgiving
Day.
—Child’s Paper
A THI1EF'S BURKEY.
“Well, my dear we are sure at least
of our turkey,” said the minister as he
fastened about his throat the long
worsted comforter that old Mrs Lum-
my bad knit jor him, and which he
wore tn spite of its gaudy purple aad
vellow hues that hurt his artistic-sense
every time he looked at 1t rather than
wound the feelings of that dim eyed,
kindly old soul. “And we will eat it
with a thankful heart and not repine
that the good Lord has seen fit to send
us no more.”
His wife glanced lovingly up into
the thin, gentle face with its honest,
tender eyes and at the scant gray hair,
and her heart smote her at sight of
this tinfaltering piety. The children
that gathered-about their board were
many and their ‘wants so numerous
that it seemed always a blank wall
ahead to meet them. True there did
open up a way generally, but it was
such a warrow way, and Mrs. Jones
found ‘that in -squeezing through she
lost her youth and beauty.
But for all hie cheerinees before his
wife, whose burdens he bore in sym-
pathy or as many as ghe let him
dream of, the parson was a little
heavy hearted that -chill, bleak No-
vember day as he trudged down the
hill toward the tiny village nesting at
its foot. There had been a light fall
of snow during the night, but it had
grown steadily colder, and the sleet
had formed a solid glistening sheet
over the whole, so thai the parson
tound it hard to keep his footing. At
last with a merry twinkle in his eyes,
he threw off the depression that was
clogging his feet and.chilling his heart
and prepared to slide down the hill,
following example of a crowd of boys
farther off. Away he went, catching
his breath at firet as the knife like air
struck him, but he was soon rosy and
and smiling. But as he neared the
bottom of the hill he saw a man toil-
ing up it.
“Look out!’ ehouted the parson.
“Get out of my way, if you please, sir,
as I cannot get out of yours!” The
man glanced up, his small. deep -set
eyes taking in the dying figure, but
not in time to avoid it, and in another
moment the Rev. William Jones had
taken a “header” into the person of
the stranger.
“Please excuse. me!” said the par-
son, laughing and righting himself as
soon as he could and ther holding out
a hand to assiet the other to rise.
The face that looked up at him was
a disagreeable one, with the cunning,
shifty eyes of an uneasy .conecience,
the widespread ears of an alert animal
which expects every moment to be
overtaken by the treachery itself prac-
tices and the mean little features that
speak a degraded soul. .In answer to
the minister's apologies the man only
grunted an inarticulate something un-
der his breath and went om without a
backward look. The parson stood
gazing after him, wondering avho he
could be.
“No one from about here,” he
mused. ‘Ab, he must be the man
who has taken Blackpool cottage that
Wilson was telling me of yesterday."
And with the memory of this evil
countenance in his mind the Rev.
Jones went on, sadder and more anx-
ious than before the encounter. :
Tomorrow was Thankegiving, a day
when a paticn kneels as one aad
thanks God for mercies sent and bene
fits received, rolling up one grand
wave of praise to the divine throve.
Yes, he was thankful—thankful for
every one of the children at home,
thankful that they were stout lads and .
lassies all, thought it was so hard to
feed their hungry mouths, ever like lit-
tle birds, open to be filled, so hard to
shoe and dreee and educate them ;
thankful for Anaie, his dear wife, that
her loving hand was in his as they
tumbled up the hill of life.
It was perhaps but natural that, as
be thought of these belov.:d ones of
hie, the parson should heave a sigh
that he could not give them more of
this life's goods. How he would like
to eee Annie once more well dressed !
She used to be so dainty when .. girl.
How well he remembered one pretty
blue eilk she used to wear and an es-
pecial bonnet with a long drooping
plume or a bird’s breast in it—he was
not sure which it was—but, at any
rate, the face under it was so bright
and emiliag, with never a wrinkle in
its bloom, and now today poverty had
Gregory, who longed so for a College
education, and who struggled =o brave-
ly and patiently on in the village store
while his soul was hungry for books
and kaowledge. There was Lizzie too
poor girl, whose music loving soul
longed to study her chosen art, and
who was obliged to be satisfied with
the squeaky little old harmonium in
the tiny bill church. What if he
could have given them all this? And
the parson’s very heart stood still
with ecstacy at the thought. But he
caught himself up sharply. He was
repining. Indirectly he was blaming
God for doing his own will. He was
looking back after his hand was set to
the plow. This would never, never
do.
So, setting his hat down on his head
with a, sturdy determination to be
thandful in spite of his wicked discor-
tented heart, the parson stopped at the
‘‘store’’ and gave his order.
“A barrel of potatoes, Mr. Kittredge,
ifgyou please,” he said.
“Nothing else, Mr. Jones ?”’ returned
the merchant. ‘“Tomorrow’s Thanks-
giving, and your lady will be wanting
all sorts of things, I suppose. Hus-
bands are apt to be forgetful, or I
shoul not speak,” he added, with a
good patured smile, but the minister
shook his head.
It had been no trouble to remember
his wife's short order, for the potatoes
wer€ all they could afford now. There
had been that $200 Brother Joe had
written for and without which he
would have lost his litile farm and
which the poor minister had spared
him, the whole of his humble savings,
and which had left them with next to
nothing for the rest of the year. He
had a5 bad to borrow half of it, and
that debt must be paid,~come what
would, next June. Brother Joe had
written first for it to rich Aunt Jane
down in Grandville, but she had re-
plied that she ‘feared that Joe's ex-
travagance had resulted in this, and
that to suffer for it would be a whole-
some lesson to him and Sally,” so,
smiling a little over the idea of Joe's
deing extravagant on the pittance his
rocky little farm furnished, the parson
had eent the money. But Aunt Jane
was munificent in her way. Once a
year, at Thanksgiving, she sent each
of the brothers a turkey, well stuffed
and ready to be put right into the oven
and with this entirely discharged the
duties of relative and philanthropist.
“We'll have that at least,” had said
the minister, and before he started
bome he called at the express office
for the annual box. But it had not
come, 80 he went on, thinking that ii
would surely be there in the morning,
and as he trudged on up the hill said
over and over to himself : “Potatoes
and turkey are a feast compared to the
dinners to which thousands will sit
down tomorrow. I am thankful, 1
am thankful !”
% wa
In the mean time the man ‘who
had taken Blackpool cottage’ went on
his way, stopping every now and then
to read the dirty scrawl he had re-
ceived that afternoon at the postoffice.
Curiously enough this had been ad-
dressed to William Jones, Esq., though
the inside read :
Deer Bos—The cops are afier us so harrd.
That I am a frade to move. Li lotell You
hare Frum Me. but as you cay you Neede
yore shger The booDDe i send it 100 you now
the NoTeS that ware In the safe or N.g. soo
that, maiks yore SheEr with min And Kits
takin OuT just $10,000. as things is I am
a frade totrust It out so too ThE Eqpresa so
send Itin a pacage. 100k good in enny you
may get. Yare TrUe paRd Jimmy,
“He'd better send it," muttered the
man, eetting his lips grimly. “I
dido’tmix myself up in that there
bank business to get done out of my
share, and Slim Jimmy knows I kin
hang him any day, so I guess he'll
come up equare. D——n it all!
Here I am shut up in a hole, not dar-
ing to make a move with that devil,
young Ross, after me so close. But I
think ['ve rather left him, this time,
and if I stay here quiet for a month or
80 can get away after that. He lost
the sceut last week.”
So congratulating himself that he
eluded the officers by coming to this
obscure village, the man let himself
into the gloomy cottage he had chos-
en on the shores of a pool of murky
water. That it had great wooden shut-
ters and oaken doors had recommend:
ed it to the hunted thief. He eat
down before the hearth and dragged
together the smoldering embers, blow-
ing them to get a flame. Thev caught
the kindling he laid on them, and soon
a fire was roaring up the big chimney,
thawing {out the chilled ruffian. He
half slept in his chair, when all at
once a child’s voice said just outside
the door, ‘Ob, mister, oh, mister, your
chimney’s on fire I” With a muttered
curse on the chimney and with any-
thing but polite thanks for his inform-
ant, he rose and walked to the door to
find out the truth of the matter for
himself.
A little boy, blue with cold, stood
outside looking intently up at the roof.
“Here, sir, here! You can see it
from here! You can see it from
here.” And, laying aside his caution
for once, Black Bob walked out un-
armed and almost into the arms ot a
good looking young officer of the de-
tective force and hie men. ‘Ah, glad
to meet you, Mr. Robert Black. alias
Jed Lemon, alias Fred Tutt, alias Mr.
William Jones and goodness knows
what else,” said young Ross, covering
the thief with his revolver.
Black Bob enarled like a trapped ti-
ger, but allowed them to slip the hand-
cuffs over hie wrists.
“Now, said the officer, “where's the
boodle that you robbed the bank of ?
You may as well confess, for I've got
your partner, Slim Jimmys—caught
him this morning. And I'll get Kit
Lee, your other one, before long.
Now tell us where the money is.”
sown heavy lines about the eyes that
used to laugh up at him and around
the lips that still for all their anxiety |
never refused to smile at him. And |
then there was Gregory; his eldest son, !
“as good a son as ever blessed a fath- |
er's heart,” thought the parson. Poor’
WF
The prisoner bestowed on him an |
ugly grin, “It’s where you can't get
it. Don’t you wish you could ?” Then |
with an oath, he swore: “I'd rather
see you in perdition before I'd tell
you, Let who gets it have my com.
pliments,” adding to himself, “I'd
even rather the express company got it
darned monopolists though they are,
than you, to get the credit of giving it
back. my young rooster.”
The men tursed their horses toward
the village on the other side of the
hill, but Ross stopped them. ‘No;
we'll go back the way we came from
Richland. I don’t care to have the
news of this arrest get out just now,
for I have an idea that Bob here will
finally turn state’s evidence against
the third man and tell us where the
rascal is hiding. We'll never catch
him else, as he is the slyest of the
bunch.” ,
So nothing was known in Littleton
of the captuve nor did it ever know,
being a sleepy little place. minding
strictly its owm business and taking
only such literature as the Watchman
on the Wall or the Zion Herald, which
were not calculated to disturb its peace
of mind.
“We will be thankful, children, to.
morrow, really thankful, for God’s
mercies’ said the minister that night
looking around over his benevolent
glasses, that reflected the fire—the one
fire in the house. about which they
gathered, and being good, obedient
children, each tried to obey the tath-
er's and the president’s orders and
went to bed after all in a glee over
Aunt Jane's turkey, which Gregory
was to call for in the morning after he
had built the flre in the church.
This was a most important errand
as you may suppose, turkeys being
nearly as rare as black swans in the
Jones family, and ‘Gregory brushed
his clothes next morning uatil you for-
get their shabbiness in their immacu-
late neatness and set off whistling
blithely after he bad sent a cheery
flame through the tiny stove in the
tiny church. And be held himself a
trifie straighter than usual as he asked
the agent, with an assumption of care-
lessnees as if accustomed every day in
the year to getting packages by express
if there was a box there for William
Jones, the Rev. William Jones.
There was a box for William Jones.
and as there was but one William
Jones known to the gentleman of tags
and receipts this must be the one
acked for. So Gregory went home
lugging the box, which seemed unusual-
ly heavy this year, and giving it to
his mother with a kiss of congratula-
‘tion as she came hurrying in from
church to get the dinuer as quickly as
possible for the others who were com-
ing on behind.
“Yes, 1t’s a nicer one than Aunt
Jane usually sends,” said Mrs Jones
as she felt the plump breast. Aunt
Jane's turkeys were apt to be a trifle
of weight, but this one was so nicely
rounded that the good lady must have
put in “lots of stuffing,” as 5-year-old
Eddie said as his flushed mother bent
down and sent the fine bird into the
{oven beside the generous pan of pota-
| toes.
* * * * *
Now all was ready. Mr. Jooes
smiling at each one in turn as he men-
tally sized up his blessings, took the
head of the table and Mrs. Jones the
foot. All the other little Joneses wait-
ed reverently while their father said
grace, but with outright looks that
would have disconcerted any bird on
earth but this one. Now the amen
was uttered, the minister straightened
himself up in his chair, he seized his
knite, drew it along the steel with
what to the little Joneses seemed cruel
deliberation, then drew the turkey to
him. The right leg on, now the left,
now the right wing, now the left, so
beautiful and systematical. Now the
knife was poised above the brown
breast itself, aud it lay open.
But what was this that showed to
the astonished eyes of the family?
The minister's face paled: Mre.
Jones rose from her seat and ran to
his side to look for herself ; the young-
est Jones broke into a halt cry of dis-
appointment, for instead of the gush of
stuffing ke had looked for there was
only to be seen a tin box, from which
the cover bad just been knocked, re-
vealiog rolls of $50 and $100 bill.
Whose was it? Where had it come
from ?
But though the minister tried faith-
fully to discover, he never did. Aunt
Jane was written to, but her turkey
came next day, and she knew nothing
of it, but eo pleased was she at the
family’s prosperity that when she
died next year she left all she had
to her “beloved nepbew, William
Jones,” being, as many others, dis-
posed to give to those who have. And
when the minister found that all in-
inquiries were vain he finally accepted
the gift as from the Lord, as who shall
say it was not? And so Gregory
went to college, aud Lizzie owned for
“her very own’ the finest piano that
could be had and learned to play it so
well that when the next Thanksgiving
came it was to her accompaniment the
assembled family sang *‘In Some Way
or Other the Lord Will Provide.”—
Philadelphia Times.
An Awkward Admirer.
He (in the conservatory)—“Why did
you lead me on to a proposal, if you in-
tended to refuse me ?”’
She—‘You do me great injustice.
‘What have I done to make you think I
loved you ?"’-.
He—*In every waltz with other men
you kept them almost at arm’s length,
but when waltzing with me you leaned
your head on my shoulder, and let me
almost carry you.”
She—¢That was to keep my feet off
the floor so you wouldn't step on my
toes.”
——The Republicans will organize
the house when congress meets. There
seems to be only one candidate for the
gpeakership—the late czar. Thomas B.
Reed, of Maine, erst-while candidate for
president. For the clerkship of the
house, there are at present two candi-
dates, both of whom have‘opgned head-
quarters at the capital and wilMight to
a finish—Gen. T. J. Henderson, of Illi-
nois, and Major McDowell, of Pennsyl-
vania, both ex-representatives,
Molasses Making Down in Dixie.
Festive Days Are These With the Mississippi
Farmers.— The Cane the Staff of Life.—Chil.
dren Carry It to the Teacher and a Girl's Pop-
ularity Denoted by the Number of Stalks She is
Given—The Act of Chewing the Cane--Cane
Sugar and_Cane Beer.
It is a molasses making time in Mis-
sissippi—at once a busy and festive
period with the farmers and their fami-
lies. To one unused to the art it is a
sight of some interest, while to the ini-
tiated it seems to be the crowning of the
year’s toils and pleasures.
Of course nothing" is done on so ex-
tensive a scale as on the Louisiana sugar
plantations. Both the crop and uten-
gils for working it up are less imposing,
certainly, but not less affective.
Early in the spring the cane is plant-
ed by laying it in furrows, three or four
stalks together, continously, thus pro-
ducing from the ‘‘eyes’’ at the joints a
beautiful growth of almost impenetrable
thickness but otherwise much resem-
bling corn in height and foliage. Very
little work is required for its cultiva-
tion.
Late in the autumn, before frost, men
may be seen with grabbing hoes taking
down seed cane. In this case the stalks
are not stripped or topped, as when it is
and covered with earth, to remain until
spring. If it is not a severe winter the
stubble may be counted upon to furnish
a fine crop the next year. An acre of
cane will easily produce four hundred or
more gallons of molasses and with less
labor than any other crop ; so of this
commodity there is always plenty,
whatever else may lack or fall. -
From the time the joints begin to
look blue or striped, according to wheth
er it is the blue or the ribbon variety, it
is in active demand as a sort of sweet, or
a8 apples are further north. There are
late fruits here save fox grapes and mus-
cadines, those allies of chills and fever,
so the sugar cane fills & real want.
Children carry it to ‘‘teacher’ in lieu
of fruits and flowers, and a girl’s popu-
larity may sometimes be reckoned by
the number of stalks she has stacked up
in the corner of the piazza. Without
actually witnessing it one can scarcely
credit the dexterity with which even
small bogs, and girls armed with dull
harlows, can peel the hard points, while
a grown man, arrived at courting age
—not always synonymous with ‘years
of maturity’’—considers himself accom-
plished oaly when he can with a sharp
knife peel a six foot stalks completely
without cutting it or breaking the stripe
or bark. Having acquitted himself of
the performance he rests assured of the
adoration of all young women and very
small boys,
It is quite wonderful what an amount
of luseivus sweetness can be extracted
from it after it is peeled, cut and split
into convenient pieces. The art of
chewing gracefully in the society of her
‘best young man’ is one receiving
much thought from the country
lass, while her manner of dis-
posing of the - discarded. ‘‘chews’’ is
ooked upon by bachelors and widowers
as offering a key to her qualities for
housewifery.
That the exercise is reckoned, physio-
logically, more productive of jaw power
than of longevity of teeth needs but the
proof of ocular testimony for confirma-
tion. Their is seldom seen a full fair set
of teeth in the South, and this lack has
through cane chewing, the goober habit
and snuff-dipping (the last happily be-
coming defunct,) come to be a profitable
field for the dental fraternity.
Thos, when molasses-making time
rolls around and Mr. Jack Frost has be-
gun to leave his visiting cards, there isa
twinge of melancholy in the hearts of
the young that is not all due to reflec-
tions upon the dying sunfmer, and they
chew faster than ever. There is a busy
day or so when negroes or the farmer’s
boys strip and top the cane, chewing
madly at every interval of rest; the
farmer rigs up the old-fashioned mill,
cleans more or less thoroughly his evap-
orator, and, putting on his guano-sack
apron, goes gayly to work. .
Early and late the cane mill is the
trysting-place of all ages and conditions.
Each comer claims a draught of the juice
ag it trickles from the mill, while the
feeders, drivers and boilers take frequent
pauses and imbibe so copiously that one
wonders mutely if uninitiated, sympa-
thetically if one is ‘‘to the manner
born.”
This juice is never known to- hurt
anyone, and it will bring roses into pale
faces in a manner to arouse all doctors
to envy. This is witnessed scores of
times.
Certainly a visit to a cane mill is cal-
culated to confirm or to cure any taste
for molasses one may have boasted of
previously, for it can be the dirtiest
place imaginable, and is, no matter how
cleanly, unequaled in power to be
smeary and sticky. Even the odor of
the boiling juice is smeary.
The evaporator is a long, shallow
fron pan with bars dividing it into com-
partments. At one end may be the
fresh juice while from the other is being
drawn off molasses. [fsugar is desired
it i8 boiled very thick and putin open
barrels to granulate. No amount of
boiling will render the molasses fit for
making candy unless it has been pre-
viodly boiled and cooled, otherwise a
cane mill would be an ideal place for an
old-tashioned ‘‘candy-pulling.”
At a typical mill visited by the writer
recently all appointments were of the
rudest kind. The furnace doors and
bars were home-made ; the odd stool on
which the boiler sat to skim the syrup,
the tall stand on which rich pineknots
flame at night and all barrels, tubes and
strainers. Even the boiler himself was
home-made and plain, savoring of old
times and no fashions. He discoursed
to his visitors on politics and the church
dipping and skimming and stirring the
while. Every comer was pressed to
drink a brimming gourd of juice and
family.
the pineknots mingles with the rich yet
repulsive savors of the evaporator, when
round and the weary mule dreams
" the gourd will pass blithely about, not
from the juice barrel, but ladling out
beer. This vile concoction is distilled
from the skimming and is the shadow of
evils which darken the autumn festival,
It also bring its roses, but they do not
adorn the cheeks of babes.
¢The Woman Suoffragists.
~The Woman's Suffrage association
of Pennsylvania began its twenty-sev-
enth annual convention in the city of
Lancaster yesterday. In ber annual
report the president referred in con-
gratulatory terms to the rapid progress
of the cause she and her sisters have
at heart. During the last few years
women have won more notable tri-
umphs in various parts of the world,
and it is very evident to those who
have kept their eyes and ears open
and who know somewhat concerning
the trend of events that there can be
but one outcome of the agitation which
began years ago and which has never
been abandoned for a single hour.
{Aieaty it is almost universally ad-
mitted that whenever woman wants
the ballot she will be enfranchised.
The opponents ot woman suffrage base
carry home a jugful of hot syrup for pire
Later on, when the resinous odor of | Ht
us is blind.”
the mill has ceased to go round and!
among the fodder after his day’s work !
pulling the ponderous lever, there will |
| be fewer sunbonnets in the group and!
of delaying it, upon the aversion which
pared for the mill, but piled in a heap | the great majority of the sex are be-
lieved to entertain toward that reform.
In the United States women already
have the ballot in Wyoming and Colo-
rado, have it in the territory of Utah,
and will have it in the state, the new
constitution enfranchiging them. In
Wyoming women have voted now for
80 many years, and such uniform suc-
cess has attended their participation
in the business of governing, that uni-
versal suffrage is taken as a matter of
course. It basn’t brought the millen-
nium to Wyoming, but then, on the
other hand, it hasn't been followed by
evils which the conservatives have
predicted would inevitably follow such
a bold defiance of what they regarded
as the laws of nature. The experi-
ment is too recent in the other states
to furnish a basis for judgment, but
there 18 no reason to suppose that any
very marked harm wili come to wom-
an. And one thing is noticeable.
Whenever she has the ballot parties
are particular about the character of
their candidates.
In some of the states woman has
been granted municipal suffrage. In
Pennsylvania she is wholly disfran
chised, yet she may be a school direc-
tor or a notary public. In Eagland
she has municipal suffrage and will
soon vote for parliamentary candi-
dates. In New Zealand she has equal
privileges with her brother. Pennsyl-
vania, where the German intluence is
still very strong, an influence which
holds to the rigid subjection of woman
is one of the most backward of our
American states 80 far as the hiove-
ment for universal suffrage is con-
cerned. It is perfectly obvious that at
the present moment a very large ma-
jority of both eexes in this state
are opposed to making woman a
voter. So the ladies who are meet-
ing at Lancaster this week have
no rose covered path of dalliance be-
fore them, but a stern aud flinty road
to travel. Nevertheless, in spite of ex-
isting prejudice, they are certain to
win their battle. The stars in their
courses fight against conservatism.
During the last year or two there
has been a great uproar in the news:
papers about ‘the new woman,” and
here and there a teminine fool—for
man does not possess a monopoly of
folly—itching alter notoriety, makes a
spectacle out of herself before angels
and men. But not to this class belong
the earnest minded, pure hearted wom-
en who desire the franchise for them-
selves and their sisters. They do not
desire to unsex themselves, to usurp
man’s place in.the world, to do any-
thing that would diminish their wom-
anly charm. But they see thousands
of their sisters unmated, compelled to
earn their own living, and unprotect-
to the scum of the earth, because it has
the franchise, and they conceive the
thought that it wouldn't te an un.
wholesome idea to increase the power
and the importance of the working
women by giving them the “ballot.
Success attend their efforts.—Altoona
Tribune.
How the Senses Drop to Sleep.
Now physicians and physiologists
come to the front with the astounding
statement that a man goes to sleep piece-
meal instead of altogether and simul-
do not lull themselves unitedly aud at
once into a state of slumber, but cease
to receive impressious gradually, one
after the other. At first the sight ceases,
and next the sense of taste loses its sus-
ceptibility to outward impression.
Even then, the individual being al-
most in a state of unconsciousness, three
senses still remain in a condition of
activity —swmelling, hearing and thought,
Gradually the sense of smelling goes,
then hearing, and finally, with the
lapse of thought, the entire body be-
comes completely asleep.
The physiologists have gone even fur-
ther than this, and they say that the
senses sleep with different degree, of
profoundmess. The sense of touch is
the most easy to arouse, next that cf
hearing, then sight and taste, and
smelling last.
Sleep steals on the body gradually,
certain parts of muscles beginning to
sleep before others. Slumber com-
mences at the extremities, beginning at
the feet and legs. That is way it is al-
ways necessary to keep the feet warm.
—New York Press.
At the Grocer’s.
Parlor maid—“Give mea pound of
LER.
Shopman—*Black or green ?”
Maid—*Doesn’t matter which ; miss-
OT Er I——
Improving His Manners.
——Bobby—‘‘Auntie, pass me the
butter.”
Auntie—*If what ?"’
Bobby—‘‘If you can reach it.”
their hop: of defeating it, or at least
ed. Then they see the deference paid:
taneously, as it were. That is, the senses”
For and About Women .
The sacrifices made by Mrs. Stanford,
widow of the California Senator, for the
maintenance of the university bearing
the name of her dead son deserve the
highest praise. Mrs. Stanford has been
under a great strain in her commend-
able efforts to help the university. In
speaking of this the other day, she said :
“The nervous strain which I have been
under the Jast two years has been very
great. I wonder sometimes how much
longer I will be able to endure it. But
the happy faces of the students, the
gratefulness ofthe parents,and the grand
results following the last two years’
work of the university have been and
will be an inspiration to me to struggle
on and try to carry out thé wishes of
my husband. IfI can keep 1,000 stu-
Jones at the university I will be satis-
ed.”
Skirts have lost nothing of their sum-
mer fullness, but the absence of stiffen-
ing, except at the bottom, makes them
much more graceful. And, although
the sleeves have the appearance of being
somewhat smaller because of the differ-
ent arrangement and less stiffening in
the lining, there is no diminution in the
actual size.
The most noticeable feature of the
new bodice is the coat effect, which is
given by an added basque from six to
twelve inches deep, which falls below a
very narrow belt. It is usually cut
somewhat circular in shape, so the edge
hangs in fluted folds, or plaited in full
box plaits at the back.
The very large loops and bows so
Jong attached to the neckbands of our
gowns are discarded by fashion leaders,
although still very popular with the
majority of well-dressed women. The
stock tie, with ends falling either from
the back or directly under the chin, re-
places, with the former minority, a
fashion that has maintained for a long
time an extraordinary popularity.
“Style is a mysterious quality.” “It
is one of the few desirable things that
money cannot buy. A first class dress-
maker may dress a women artistically,
but she cannot give her style.
“Style does not mean variety of ap-
parel. It does not even mean richness
of material. These things are welcome
additions to it, but not essential." The
best dressmaker, though she may do her
utmost and greatly improve the con-
tours by toning down a defect here and
emphasizing a good point there, cannot
make the form, the frame, over. It is
in the poise of the head and the should-
ers, the habitual way of moving, that
the indescribable quality of personal style
lies secreted. If the average woman of
to-day were asked what good gift she
would choose as a boon from a fairy
godmother, provided she could have
but one, there is no doubt that she
would, on mature consideration, select
style.
“Style outlives youth and good looks.
It gives a woman an immense pewer of
holding her own and carries off awk-
ward predicaments. 1t makes its pos-
eessor, in the Jong run, often outshine a
commonplace beauty, no matter how-
ever plain she may be individually.
Style frequently renders a woman pre-
sentable in a shabby gown and is a gift
that holds good for rain orshine,in hot
or cold weather alike—one that once
possessed never deserts its possessor.
“To analyze it completely is impossi-
ble. One can only get a hint, a sugges-
tion of its inherent attributes here and
there. But one thing is certain, to be
well dressed and aware of it is decided-
ly not ‘stylish.’ The fundamental prin-
‘ciple of style is to wear an old gown
with the air of a princess and to wear a
new one as if yeu had forgotten its new-
ness. That isa safe rule to follow.”
A girl’s hair is one of her points of
beauty, and it should never be neglect-
ed. Regular, steady brushing of the hair
with a clean brush, fifty strokes before
going to bed at night, twenty-five in the
morning when dressing, will keep the
hair thick, smooth, soft and lovely.
Once a month at least the tips of the
hair should be clipped off, just the mer-
est tip ends at the edges, and once a
month the head should be carefully
washed with tepid water and soap, thor-
oughly rubbed and well dried.
If mamma has time to take this sort
of care of her daughter’s hair, she will
be repaid by seeing rich and flowing
tresses, or sisters may easily do it for
one another. Do not cut your hair in
bangs. It is very much prettier simply
parted and combed back plainly, then
braided in one or two long tails and tied
with a ribbon. Avoid essences, oils and
pigments ; the hair needs only clean-
liness and much brushing. Keep your
hair-brush clean by frequently dipping
it into a bath of hot water and ammonia
and drying it in the sun. Everything
used in treating the hair must be scrup-
ulously neat.
In the new embroideries blue and
white effects are very popular, and for
these designs are copied from the Dres-
den ‘‘onion pattern,” from old delft
plates--those introducing a windmill
being especially liked—and from ‘‘wil-
low ware.” A beautiful center piece
and doilies 12 inches square, to use un.
der plates on the bare luncheon table,
were copied from a rare old hawthrone
jar. They are very fine linen with »
narrow hemstitched hem. The irregu-
lar, crackle-like lines, which for an all
over-ground, are etched by fine linas of
pale blue silk, while the flower petals
are worked in long end short stitch with
deeper blue.
Guipure lace will be largely used
during the season together with its very
antithesis, fur. Not only white lace is
used, but other white stuff just as well ;
for instance,a curious gown of black
broadcloth, trimmed with white (al-
though it was not lace). The skirt is
plain and ornamented with several rows
of whitestitching about the hem. The
jacket is also beautifully stitched with
white and with strapped seams. The
novel feature isa waistcoat of white
leather, with white pearl buttons and a
bit of leather makes a cuff under the
coat sleeve. White leather waistcoats
are very much worn by English women.
To return to our white laces ; many
black chapeaux are trimmed with it.