Bema tc,
Bellefonte, Pa., Jan. 3, 1896.
wa
NEW YEAR
WHAT WILL THE
BRING.
BY FRANK B. WELCH.
The old year fades into the past
With all its joys and sorrows,
With all its barren yesterdays
And all its bright to-morrows ;
Some hearts regret its hasty flight,
Some gladly speed the parting
Which banishes the sad old year,
So joyous at its starting.
tr
We bid the dying year good-by
And turn, with hope reviving,
To greet the New Year coming in
With promises enlivening ; -
And as we lay aside the past
In gladness or in sorrow,
We reach out to the time to come
And of the future borrow.
What will the New Year bring to us—
Is weal or woe awaiting ?
Will fortune smile in kindiy way
Or will she need berating ?
Could we but rend the veil of time
And see beyond the present,
What would our longing eyes behold,
A prospect dark or pleasant? ——
Ah, it were well would we but take
The days as they are given,
And make each one a stepping stone
To raise us up to Heaven ;
Instead we waste the precious hours
In blind and fruitless hoping,
The while we in an aimless way
For sordid gain are groping.
The coming year will surely bring
Us whatsoe’er we merit ;
So if we fail to reap success
We've but to grin and bear it.
For what we sow that shall we reap,
Such is the law unbending
Which rules our lives from day to day—
Beginning unto ending.
r———
A QUESTION OF PRINCIPLE
It was New Year's eve in that cold
and glorious climate where the snow
lies on the bosom of the earth like a
protecting mantle from December to
March and the nights are crisp and
cold, with a resinous tang in the air,
due to the forests of oderous pine. New
Year's eve and the merry jingle of
sleighbells in the little town of Bran-
don made a harmonious discord that
reached the ears of two people who
were having the first quarrel of their
lives, and who presented—if they had
only known it—an absurd appearance,
one in a lachrymose, the others in a
belligerent, state. It came about in
the strangest way, this quarrel between
two married lovers who had establish-
ed their lives upon a firm foundation
of principle and respect, as well as
mutual love, before they took upon
themselves the responsibilities of wed-
ded life.
These were the first holidays since
their wedding and they had anticipated
a seaeon of quiet enjoyment with each
other, and now they were hardly on
gpeaking terms. And there was no
one to blame but themselves. .
It happened in this way ; Alice, Mrs.
Eversham, had been very anxious to
make her husband, Horace, a New
Year's present, but had refrained from
prudential reasons. They were saving
money to pay on a home and were
exercising a rigid economy in which
both were equally interested. If
Horace went without cigars and other
luxuries, his wife gave up having af-
ternoon teas, and hired only one do.
mestic, who worked by the day. A
certain amount was reserved for char-
ity, aud as the end of the year ap
proached and cold weather brought
extra demands, this fund gave out and
there were several cases of destitution
which they could not relieve, but were
compelled to hand over to the char-
itable society of the church.
Therefore it was at Alice's own sug-
gestion that the ecciety got up a bazar
for the eale of contributed goods, and
“took the proceeds to ameliorate the
conditicns of their poor. ;
This was the beginning of the troub-
le. When the sales were over, they
took the things that remained unsold
aud put them up at so much a chance.
Alice had put ber foot down—it was a
very pretty foot—against the proceed
ings, but had been over-persuaded that
it wae perfectly right, asthe church
would sanction it. Still, he only gave
a negative consent, for she would
neither buy nor sell any of the chances,
But when one of her young friends
took a couple of chances'for her—a
dressing-gown and chocolate set—she
had said, laughingly, that if she won
they might send them to her address.
She did ot eay anything about it to
Horace, who was too much occupied
with the closing business of the year
to attend the bazar, and knew nothing
of this lottery feature.
She would nct have had him know
it on any account, inaemuch as he had
been fond of games of chance when
she married him, and through her
‘good influence had entirely reformed.
That dangerous passion for gambling,
which does 80 much harm in the
world, had found an abiding. place with
Horace Eversham, and was becoming
one of the pernicious influences of his
life, when Alice eflected a cure which
che believed to be permanent.
They had been happy and larky as
two children, until Horace came home
bringing a fine goose.
“It's for dinner New Year's day,”
he said, holding up the white-feather-
ed bird at arm’s length. “Isn't ita
beauty—fat and plump ?”
“What will we do with
goose ?'" asked Alice.
“Fat it. My father used to say that
a goose was an awkward bird, too
much for one, and not enough for two.
We'll have a feast if Ellen Jane does
ber whole duty in her cooking, won't
we, though ?”
“Its teathers will make a sofa cush-
ion,” said Alice, who had a frugal
mind. “I'm beginning to get recon-
ciled to the goose.’
“It’s a noble bird, and its cackling
once saved Rome,” remarked Horace,
sententiously, and then they went to-
gether to the kitchen, where the goose
was laid on Ellen Jane's spotless white
table.
When that functionary eaw it, she
lifted up both hands :
*Ob, but it is a beauty, missis, An’
what a pity that they hed to choot so
foive a burd!”
a whole
>
! 7 ~
“Shoot .~it,”” echoed Alice, ‘well
don’t they always kill geese that way?”
“No'm, only wan it's at a raffle. I
heered me Tom sayin’ as Mr. Ever-
sham won it—it's a foine shot he is,
I'm told.”
A raffle! Alice's heart went down
to zero. Her husband shooting birds
ata raffle! All her years of faithful
precept undone !
“Where was the raffle?’ she asked
in a voice that she tried to make firm,
and indifferent.
“At Little Jake's, mum, in the back
yard. There was a big crowd of men,
an’ they do say Mr. Eversham was the
first one out of the lot to hit the burd,
and look how pate he did it—that
goose, mum, never knew what kill-
ed it.”
“You needn't cook it,” said Alice,
“I don’t like goose.”
“But your husband, mum ? He
would enjoy it since he fetched it down
with his own gun. It were banked in
the snow, my Tom said, with its head
sticking out an’ a movin’ it as fast as
a flash this way an’ that, an’ every-
body that fired at it missed it—"
“That will do,” said Mrs. Eversham,
and she walked off leaving Jane Ellen
staring at the goose,
It was New Year's eve. Alice and
Horace were only a few feet apart, in
reality, but miles of distance could not
have separated them so completely.
Horace had tried to explain, but had
been instantly silenced.
“No, no. There can be no explana-
tion. You have broken a law of mor-
al obligation. You have broken your
promise to me,” said Alice.
Tap, tap, went her little foot ; there
were tears in her voice. Horace felt
that he was a criminal, yet if she only
would let him explain. He was very
angry.
There was a ring at the door bell.
The two composed themselves to meet
callers. The conventionalities of life
must be observed, and no one must
know that they had quarreled. But it
was only & boy with a note, and a pack-
age for Mrs. Eversham.
It was the dressing-gown from the
bazar. The chance taken for Alice
had drawn it. Alice did not look upon
it with horror. On the contrary, she
could not conceal her delight at having
won it. But she said coldly as she
handed the handsome garment to
Horace :
“Your New Year's present.
it will fit.”
“Thank you very : much,” said
Horace, his eyes sparkling with pleas-
ure, “but I thought we were not to
give each other presente this year.”
“Why, there's the goose ?”
“Oh, that only cost half a dollar—
and we must eat.”
“This cost only twenty-five cents. I
won it in a chance at our church
bazar.”
Horace threw back his head and
laughed immoderately.
“My dear little wife,” he asked
when he could get his breath, *‘do you
know the difference between. tweedle-
dum and tweedle-dee ?”
“I hopel know the difference be-
tween an entertainment designed for
charity under the auspices of the
church and a low raffle with no other
object—"’
“A charity, my dear ; you wouldn’t
let me explain, but the raffle was to
obtain money for the benefit of a poor
family—" ”
“Name the family,” commanded
Alice, who did not believe her husband
was telling the truth, the whole, and
nothing but the truth.
“The Limpskeys, a poor family who
bave recently come here’
I hope
“Why, they are the same people for |,
whom we got up the bazar”
“And for whom I helped raffle oft
the goose.”
“It’s the principle!” said Alice,
“it is demoralizing.”
“But, my dear, it seems to me the
principle is the same whether it's in
the church or the saloon. 1t is to get
something for nothing. I got the
goose—you got a dressing-gown, which,
as it does not cost anything, you kind-
ly donate to me.”
It was late, and a merry peal of
bells rang out the anthem of the New
Year. The two fell into each other's
arms.
“Send the goose to the Limpskeys,”
said Horace.
“And the dressing-gown, too,” said
Alice, with half a sigh.
**And when we want to do a charita-
ble act, let us -give from our own
means.”
“Spoken like a dean ! The best prin-
ciple in giving is that of sacrifice. We
won't make any resolutions, but we’ll
try to ‘live upto our knowledge of
what is right and true. You don’t
care for the goose ?”
“Yes, I do very much. It would
make such good eating stuffed with
sage and onions, and served with apple
sauce.”
“So much the greater sacrifice if you
give it up. And you know that dress
ing gown would fit you elegantly, but
old Mr. Limpskey is ragged and needs
it more.”
“He shall have it. And we will be-
gin the New Year poor but honest.”
Then those two young people kissed
and made up, while the bell rang out
the want, the care, the sin, rang in the
love of truth and right, and the Limp-
skeys were the happier for the appli-
cation of that often misinterpreted text
to do evil that good may come.
AERA
A Bit of Mountain Philosophy.
Drink, and the gang drinks with
you ; swear off, and you. goit alone 3
for the bar room bum who drinks
your rum has a quenchless thirst of
his own. Feast, and your friends are
many ; fast, and they cut you dead ;
they'll not get mad if you treat them
bad, so long as their stomach is fed.
Steal, if you geta million, for then
you can furnish bail; it's the great
big thie! that gets out on leave, while
the little one goes to jail.
——Texas has a 50,000 acre pas-
ture.
The Lead Pencil.
A carload of California redwood was
recently shipped to Nuremburg, in
Germany, for use in the manufacture
of lead pencils. Owing to the exhaus-
tion of the supply of cedar it has been
necessary to find a substitute of it, and
redwood seems to be the only kind of
wood except cedar with a sufficiently
straight grain. There is in this a sug.
gestion of the enormous number of
lead peoccils consumed annually. Nu.
remburg is\the principal seat of the
manufacture\of them, which is widely
distributed. Tt is necessarily a grow.
ing one, for as fast and as far as civili-
zation spreads there is a demand for
lead pencils. The wore complicated
business relations are the more use is
made of pencils. On the railways and
in the departments of State and Federa!
governments they are consumed bythe
carload. In the cities nearly every
person carries one, even to the small
boy, who amuses himself in disfiguring
posters and sometimes books, when he
can think of no other variety of devil-
ment. He gets in school the habi: of
carrying 4 pencil,
— * 3% *
In the early ages he carried a stylue,
In a New York museum one may see
a pathetic memorial of the long past.
In ancient Egypt the slate was of wax
epread over a board. To erase an in-
scription on it the fingers were passed
over it. Inthe specimen referred to
there are symbols and beneath them a
childish expression of chagrin at fail-
ure to accomplish the task, whatever
it was, Some one has imagined the
little fellow’s head aching, symptom
of a fever of which he soon died. - The
slate was put away with his body and
found with it after the lapse of ages,
bearing his marks on it. But pencils
of earth or chalk were not unknown
in those remote days. The artists used
them in their nfonocarome pictures.
So did the Greeks. Wet colors came
into use about four centuries before
Christ and then the brush was em-
ployed. Job, wishing that his words
were printed in a book, exclaims “That
they were graven with an iron pen
and lead in the rock forever!” The
claim of the territory ot the:Ohio was
set forth on lead plates graven with a
pen of iron and buried at certain points
in the territory.
Graphite is called black lead. Were
pencils once made of refined lead ? The
small boy often has one of that kind,
his own handiwork, aud can easily
disfigure pages with it. The best
graphite for drawing pencils comes
from English mines of Cumberland,
but an abundance of fine quality is had
from Siberian mines. It has to be
crushed, though, for it ia seldom homo-
geneous enough in the original state to
be trusted in the work of an artist.
For a long time there was a problem
how to cause the crushed particles to
adhere without cement, which injured
the quality of the pencil. That was
solved by pressure. The crushed ma-
terial was put in glued paper, with an
orifice, and placed under the receiver
of an air pump. When the air was
drawn off the orifice was closed me-
chanically and the mass subjected to
pressure, which left it as compact as a
block from the mine. The masses
thus prepared were sawed into sizes for
pencile. People often fancy what the
result would be if the world was sud-
denly deprived of some small conven-
ience the value of whichis seldom
thought of. What would the world do
if suddenly deprived ot lead pencils ?
Unfair and Dirty.
A very grave wrong is being perpe-
trated against the American public by a
reprinter of one of the English com-
petitors of the Funk & Wagnalls Stand-
ard dictionary—a wrong that cannot be
excused by the exigencies of commer-
cial rivalry. As is well known, in all
unabridged dictionaries it is necessary
to give the definitions of certain indeli-
cate words. Eighteen of these words
(selected out of a vocabulary of over
300,000 terms in the Standard) have
been collated and printed with their de-
finitions by the reprinter of this Eng-
lish dictionary, and circulars contain-
ing them are being distributed among
teachers, school trustees, and parents
all through this country, stirring up a
filthy agitation that will end, unless
frowned down by the public press and
other leaders of public opinion, in set-
ting people of prurient minds and child-
ren everywhere to ransacking dictiona-
ries for this class of words. One of these
publications contains such outrageously
unjust comments as the following :
“About two years ago the publishing house
of Funk & Wagnalls brought into the worlda
monstrosity entitled the Standard Dictionary
of the English Language.”
**So far asrelates to its collection of obscene,
filthy, blasphemous, slang, and profane words,
it has no counterpart in dictionaries of the
English Language.”
To collect from such a work words of
the class referred to and publish them is
as greal an outrage as to collect from
the Bible the many indelicate words and
passages to be found there, or those
from Shakespeare (some of these 18
words are found both in the Bible and
in Shakespeare,) and then to print and
scatter abroad the collection, saying ;
‘See what a foul book is the Bible ; see
what an obscene and blasphemous work
is Shakespeare’s.” The publication and
distribution of these circulars isa gross
assault upon public decency. An agent
who attemps to exhibit such a printed
circular” surely should not be listened
to for a moment ; he is a public enemy,
47 should be turned from every decent
oor.
—
Man's Chief End.
From the Wilkesbarre Sun.
The venerable liar, the oldest in-
habitant is telling how different the
weather was this Thanksgiving from
what it was when he was a youngster.
Then, according to his story, the snow
was from three to four feet deep, and
the cold was intense. Well, maybe if
we live to be as old as he is we will lie
just that way, too.
—— If your religion does not improve
your character, it is the wrong kind.
THE FIRST SNOW.
The robin round the granary eaves,
Whisper and watch like littie thieves,
And, as beside the hedge you stir,
A parse starts with a sudden whirr;
While crows—as dark as dreams that come
To worry when one fain would sleep—
Above the far-off hill tops sweep,
Flecking the heaven’s dull gray dome.
About the barn the milk cows low,
And seem one’s whistled air to know;
The horses, Fainnesing, seem to gay,
“Why do you loiter on the way ?”
The pigs from out the sage-grass bed,
Come nois’ly begging at your feet;
And never alms-folk gladder greet
The one to whom they look for bread.
The out work done, you then return
To where the blazing faggots burn;
There, waiting for the morning meal,
A kind of calm content you feel,
The sparks fly upward at their will ;
The fire sends out a pleasant glow ;
And all reminds you, though there's snow,
There’s much in life to cheer us still !
— Till T. Hall in Memphis Commercial Appeal.
AEE LA RT,
A Love Story.
Margaret Brockton never for an in- |"
stant suspected herself of being a senti-
mentalist. She thought she was mod-
ern in every particular, including heart
, and soul. She was charming, she knew
' and somewhat vain, clever and a little
; mercenary and thoroughly worldly wise
and wordly minded. “And yet there
were three years when Miss Brockton
rivaled any old time heroine of romance
in her sentimental attitude.
It happened in this wise. One day,
when she was 23, there came to her a
certain stalwart fellow she had known
from infancy and told her what she sl-
ready knew, that he had loved her and
wished to marry her. Mies Brockton,
liking him exceeding well, realizing
how pleasant life might be made with
his money, his name, his devotion to
her and his companionship, and decid-
ing that the ecstatic love of which poems
and novels treated would never come to
ber anyway accepted him. The engage-
ment came out duly ; the cups and sau-
cers came in. Margaret liked Jack
Whittlestone a great deal and found
the position of fiancee charming, and
all was well,
Then the villain appeared upon the
scene in the shape of Louis Radcliffe,
Jack’s cousin. Louis was a delightful-
ly uomodern person who seemed to
have taken for his model some of the
early Victorian heroes. He was a com-
bination of youthful romanticism, elder-
ly cynicism and other interesting quali-
ties. He had a superb scorn of the
conventions, a magnificent belief in
bimself and a corresponding amiable
skepticism in regard to other people.
He ‘‘interested” Margaret greatly,
she said, at first. Then she ceased to
say anything about him. Jack, not
being skilled in the ways of women,
did not worry over either his betrothed’s
speech or its absence. He knew the
new woman well enough not to assert
his rights and bid her have less conver-
gation with his cousin, even had he
wished to do so. Liberty being the
law of Margaret's life, and uneuspect-
ing good nature of Jack’s, the situation
bad every chance to complicate itself.
It did so promptly. Margaret, who
had decided that fervid and ecstatic love
was not at at all likely to come her way
awoke one fine morning to the realiza-
tion that the universe had in it just one
man—Jack’s impossible, poverty strick-
en, irresistible cousin, who had laughed
at Margaret's feminine cynicism and
pretense of coldness, felt that she and
she alone could be the compliment to
his life. They were both unhappy
enough to give them credit for some
good intentions, but in the midst of
their unhappiress they were supremely
conscious of what a trifle misery was
compared to the joy of seeing each
other.
Margaret knew perfectly, in her few
sane hours, that she did not wish to
marry Louis Radcliffe. She realized
that he would develop into a thorough-
ly undesirable sort of a husband, even
apart from his poverty.
“If only I could get oser this,” she
moaned to herself, “at 40 I should be
wretched with him, at 40 I should be
comfortable if not madly happy with
Jack. If only—if only I were 40
now!”
It was one day when she and Louis
bad sat for an hour staring ahead of
them at the ses that the climax came.
“Why don’t you talk ?”’ demanded
Margaret, finding her heartbeats
oppressive.
‘Because I cannot say what I wish
to,” be answered. Then, of course, he
proceeded to say the things which he
should not have said, and for a few min-
utes the sea and sky reeled before their
eyes, and they breathed as if in a
trance. After which, according to the
sacrificial modern manner, they decided
to part, and the next day the com-
munity was startled to learn that the er-
ratic Mr. Radcliffe was going to Eu-
rope.
Then it was that Margaret showed
how thoroughly lacking she was in the
modern, mercenary spirit she had al-
ways claimed. It gave her a mournful
satisfaction to think that, though she
could not marry Loujs—who, to tell the
truth, had not asked her to do so—she
need not marry Jack. So she broke
her engagement promptly and proceed-
ed to indulge herself in har great grief,
She heard nothing of either of the cous-
ins for a long time, for naturally her
course of action with Jack had suspend-
ed communication between the families.
For three years she was secretly us
romantic as the most romantic school
girl. She thought of Louis constantly
and pleased herself by imagining that
he, in Egypt or Algiers or wherever he
was, must know her thoughts. She
was exceedingly happy with her grief.
Outwardly she seemed much the same,
but inwardly she acknowledged the.
sway of love and its power.
One evening three years after Louis
Radcliffe had gone away she went to a
reception. A little, pudgy woman,
overdressed and overgemmed, stood by
ber hostess’ side.
“My cousin, Mrs. Radcliffe, Miss
Brockton,” said her hostess. And then,
with sudden remembrance, ‘‘You must
recall Mr. Radcliffe. He was Jack
Whittlestone’s cousin, you know.”
And then, as Margaret cordially in-
quired after Mr. Radcliffe and said how
she well remembered him, sentimental-
ism for the first time fell away from
her. From that moment she was the
really skeptical aid thoroughly “mod-
ern’’ woman she had always claimed to
be.—New York World. y
Poker Flat.
4 The- Famous Old Place Has Dicd Out, as |.
Have Most of its Notorieties,
Half an hour of slow descent and we
reach the head of the canyon by a sharp
turn in the trail. At last we are in
| Poker Flat, the wild mining camp of
1852, that turned out $700,000-in gold
bullion in a single month and then cele-
brated the event with a triple hanging.
It was Poker Flat, too, that experienced
a spasm of virtue soon after the tragic
affair, and under its regenerating influ-
ence sent forth the outcast wanderers of
Bret Harte’s story to die of cold and
starvation on the snowbourd road to
Sandy Bar. There are no Oakhursts at
Poker Fiat now, and “Uncle Billy”
has no counterpart in the present popu-
lation, for’ the very sifple reason that
there are no sluice bores to rob and no
money to win over the gambling table.
Of “Mother Shiptons,” however, there
are several.
Our greeting was not cordial. Mr.
Rugg laid it all to the snow plants
which he had gathered, and, going into
mountain lore, told of families that had
been separated by taking this bulb of
evil omen into the sacred precincts of
the home. To carry a snow plant is to
have bad luck. Conceal it as you will
those with whom you come in contact
will somehow divine your secret and
shun you accordingly. Your pay
streak will peter out, you will never
hold more than one small pair, the
slickets men from Marysville will
catch you napping over a monitor, and
most likely your wife will run away
with a tin horn gambler, who will turn
out later as a confirmed sluice robber—
all this it you carry a snow plant. So
runs the folk lore of the hills.
On the porch of one of the six houses
that now constitute the town of Poker
Flat a large, red faced woman sat in a
rocking chair smoking a clay pipe
She wore a short green dress that fell
an inch or so below the tops of a pair of
strong cowhide boots (to which were at-
tached heavy brass spurs), a paper col-
lar, cravat and faded straw hat.
Thickly covered with chaparral, with
here and there patches of wild sunflow-
ers and lupine, interspersed with pros-
pect holes, the slope presented a scene
of utter ruin. Some of the graves have
wcoden headboards, others are marked
by stakes, while many have nothing at
all. There are eight peopie in the
town, and eighty sleeping in this
ruined ground. Nearly all of them
were laid to rest without religious rites
of any kind other than the reading of a
chapter from the Bible by Charles
Pond.
Pond was a protessional gambler, but
was always selected for this service on
account of his fine voice and oratorical
effect.
“The boys always liked Pond,” said
Henry ‘Waggoner, one of the old eet-
tlers of Poker Flat. ‘He could read
better than any ono else, and so he did
the burying, and at times business in
this line was exceedingly lively.
Twice a year a priest used to come over
from Downrieville, but we could not
always wait for an ordained clergyman.
Things went with a rush in those days
and tre climate of Poker Flat seemed
to be conducive to sudden death.”
Gold was discovered in Poker Flat in
1852, and two years later 2,000 people
had gathered in this rich canyon.
There were fifteen stores, five hotels,
three daace halls and seven gambling
houses. In 1856 a circus came to town,
and sold 1,500 tickets at $20 each.
The following year a man named Jos-
lyn picked up a nugget worth $4,000.
To celebrate his good luck he
got full and offered the whole piece to
his partner in exchange for the latter’s
wife. The man accepted, and without
the formality of divorce proceedings,
Joslyn and the woman were married
and left town. Two days after he com-
mitted suicide at Gibsonville. His for-
mer partner left town and bought some
land near San Jose. Two years ago, on
August 22, he died wealthy and respec-
ted at a good old age, but it is doubtful
if more than half a dozen people in the
world knew how the foundation of his
fortune was laid.
Henderson's big iron safe, over which
the noted faro dealer shed his heart's
blood in defending his money in Sep-
tember, 1867, stands a ruin by the trail,
half buried in the sand, justabove the
Bittinger house.
Poker Flat will not last long, and
when the pioneers have all bean gath-
ered to their fathers this lively and ro-
mantic camp of early days will be for-
gotten and given over again to be a
safe and sheltered feeding spot for wild
deer.—From the San Francisco Call.
Elephant Killing.
The Demand for Ivory is Responsible for the Big
Animals Becoming Scarce.
When we take into consideration
the large quantity of ivory imported
annually, it is not surprising that those
interested in it should at times become
somewhat anxious about future sup
plies. An authority upon Indian mat-
ters some few years back was particu-
larly struck by this thought,” and
wrote :
“It is reported that England alone
imports 1,200,000 pounds of ivory, to
obtain which 30,000 elephants have to
be annually killed, and the world’s
supply must, it has been estimated,
necessitate 100,000 being annually
slaughtered. It may be safely assum-
ed that, if this rule of destruction con-
tinues, a comparatively few years will
suffice to exterminate the African
species of elephant.”
The assumption is, fortunately for
the world at large, quite incorrect. As
a matter of fact, our imports average
about the same year by year, but there
is a very important factor which the
Indian authority just quoted has evi-
dently overlooked—namely, that most
of the ivory that we receive is technic-
ally known as dead ivory, that is,
tusks which have been: taken from
elephants long since dead and stored
up in the interior of Africa. Of live
ivory, or tusks taken from recently |
For and About Women .
Miss Marion S. Parker, the first wo-
man to graduate from the engineering
department of Michigan University,
has entered the office of the resident en-
gineers and architects of the Astor es-
tate in New York city, upon precisely
the same basis that would have been
granted a young man. Miss Parker
stood well to the front of her class in col-
lege, holding her place by dint of un-
flagging industry. She bas the ‘talent
for hard work,” which is sure to bring
ber success in this comparatively new
employment for women,
Revers of many of the new waists are
not only bound with braid, but almost
entirely covered with a braided design,
while basques are elaborately braided,
and sleeves receive their share of this
trimming. Black and narrow gold
braids are wrought together in effective
design, and silver braid is also used in
combination with black to good advan-
tage, while braided designs, showing two
different colors, are one of the novelties
of the season not to be ignored.
Marie Antoinette fichus give a quaint
touch to many of the new evening
gowns. In shape they are like a three-
: cornered shawl, one end being fastened
; to the bodice at the waist line in the
| back, while the other two, after being
drawn over the shoulders, are crossed
over the corsage 1n Quaker-like simplic-
ity, or are merely drawn over the front
of the bodice at each side, then fastened
at the waist line, and the ends allowed
to hang over the skirt.
Those who have any old-fashioned
buttons laid by should press them at
once into their service, be they few or
many, for they can be worn just at the
waist or on pockets, bodices and sleeves,
and among the newest trimmings is a
collection of small brass coin buttons set
in double rows on either side of the
waist, descending on to the skirt to the
depth of about a quarter of a yard and
also in the same fashion on the bodice
and sleeves. Indeed large and small,
enameled and jeweled, painted and in-
laid, be the button what it may, it can
hardly be out of place. Many of last
winter’s dresses have been renovated by
a deep band of colored velvet secured on
either side of the waist by ornamental
buttons ; but this only comes within
practical policy where the slim are con-
cerned. Dame Fashion this season
shows little partiality ; the modes are
suited alike to tall and stout, slender
small ; but they need study and assimi-
lation.
Baits of lemon and oxalic acid remove
iron mold and ink. Cover the stain
with the powder, hold the cloth over a
vessel and pour boiling water through ;
then wash in the usual way.
Speaking of corsets, few gymnasium-
trained girls ever afterward wear any-
thing more strenuous in that line than
the Empire belts, so-called, which are
hardly wider than four inches and com-
press the waist not at all. Why, to
achieve slenderness they do just what
the West Point cadets do, and keep the
muscles in trim. The athletic girl has a
better covered collar-bone, a plumper
and firmer arm, a better poise and a
slenderer figure all the way down than
her anaemic sister. Even if her waist
is as large, it looks smaller because her
shoulders are wider 2nd her bust better
developed, and she can wear an Empire
girdle falling far below the waist, such
a girdle gleaming with gold and glitter-
ing with gems, as I saw worn last night
by a slender girl in evening silks, who
five hours before had been going around
a horizontal bar line an animated pin-
wheel. The worst of a corset: and no
exercise is that the combination makes
the body fat above and bslow the waist
line.
To keep the hands white, wash them
in a sort of gruel of starch and oatmeal,
made by boiling equal quantities of the
ingredients with sufficient water to make
a thin liquid. After washing rub the
hands over with a slice of lemon. At
night apply a lotion composed of pow-
dered borax, one dram ; glycerine, one
ounce ; elder-flower water, four ounces ;
shake before using, and after rubbing it
into the skin well put on a pair of wash-
leather sleeping gloves made with per-
forated palms.
Now is the time.to start hyacinth
bulbs in glasses in order to have them
fiower early in the winter. The glasses
must be filled with water, so as just to
escape touching the base of the bulb.
They must be kept in a cool, dry cup-
board from which all light is excluded
till the roots have grown about half-way
down the glasses, which takes from two
to three weeks. The glasses are then
placed for a day or two in a subdued’
light until the shoots the bulbs have
made get accustomed to the change.
They may then be placed in a window
or wherever wanted. Care must be
taken to replenish the glasses with wa-
ter as it evaporates. Snowdrop and cro-
cus bulbs may now be planted in small
bowls and other dishes, filled with damp
moses for early flowering.
A stunning bodice of broadly striped
black and white satin is made with the
stripes running horizontally, a very. ef-
fective fashion. The decarations ure
tiny jet-edged frills of black chiffon, set
directly up and down the front. Row
upon row of tiny jet buttons ornament
tiny straps on the shoulders.
Muffs are an indispensable feature of
the fashionable costume this season.
With all wraps, capes and jackets, eith-
er made wholly of or trimmed with fur,
muffs are sold to match. Hats, capes
and muffs to mateh are introduec-
ed by many of the leading modistes
this season, the muffs often of unique
shape and pretty styles, and are usually
made of the same material as that of
one’s gown or wrap, with trimmings of
lace and fur.
Present indications favor the continu-
killed animals, we do not receive, com- ance of huge sleeves in the spring fash-
paratively speaking, a considerable
quantity, There is no fear whatever
of the supply being exhausted during
the next two or three generations.
——Read the WATCHMAN.
| ions, though thedisuse of stiffening in
| their construction will take away some-
i
| what from their former conspicuous ap-
| pearance... The newer effects introduced
seem to have a tendency to lengthen
he lines of the shoulders instead of
tanding out, as originally.