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Bellefonte, Pa., March 20, 1896.
HEAVENLY MESSENGERS.
How many weary hearts,
Tired of this life's alarms,
Find their sweetest comfort
In the clasp of childish arms ?
, Messengers straight from heaven
Are little children sent
To teach us to love the Giver
Who our treasures to us hath lent.
God help the sorrowing mothers
And fathers all overour land
Whose children have joined the chorus
Sung by the heavenly band.
Oh! the little cribs are empty,
Once so full of happy life,
While we are leftiin this weary world
To toil in its hurry and strife.
But when our work is over,
And death has brought its calm,
In heaven, once more around our necks
Shall we feel the childish arms.
And then how sweet the thought !
How glad we are to know
Once more we'll hear our darling say;
“Mamma, I love you so !"’
-=Boston Globe.
THE ENGAGEMENT RING.
Cynthia regarded the Bashing little
circlet with evident delight. t was
one of many that sparkled on her deli-
cate white band, but it bore a signifi-
cance beyond the others. It meant the
clipping of butterfly wings, the waning
of the homage due to a beautiful and
marriageable heiress, and which,
though often made the subject of scorn-
ful wit, was ever accepted and accept-
able; it meant the ratification of a
sweet and binding contract with the
chosen one—the man to whom wealth
was no object, and rank no allurement,
and, for thatggeason, it dazzled eyes
unfamiliar with the radiance of gems.
The fingers that bad just bestowed
the gift still clasped hers with a tender
pressure, and, for the first time, she
noticed their single ornament—an odd-
ly shaped gold ring that found fault in
her fastidious eyes.
“Why do you wear this ?"’ she asked,
with a curl of the lip.
“Because 1 value it,’ replied her
lover, secretly resenting the little
sneer.
Her curiosity was roused.
she felt that for some reason he would
prefer not to talk about it, she persist-
ed.
“Did you buy it?”
“No, it was given to me,”
“By a friend ?”
“By the best friend I ever had.”
~The laconic replies annoyed her.
She dropped his band, raying : “Well,
I don’t admire it.”
He accepted this diemissal of the
subject without a word, and the con-
vereation drifted into another chancel,
one of the winding tributaries of love.
Future plans were discussed, and dates
were fixed, to 2 running accompani
ment of jest and laughter.
* Suddenly the ring caught her care-
less glance again. : ,
“There,” she said, pointing to it'im-
patiently ; “it fascinates me. + I am
gure it has a history. Tell me.”
She spoke as one whois used to
command, and certain of compliance, |
Leaning back she closed her eyes lan-
guidly and waited.
“Go on," she raid at last with some
surprise.
And still he hesitated.
“It is a ead one. You would not
care to kaow it.”
She eat quiet, intensely curious.
“Indeed I would, now that you are
80 mysterious. Does it contain poison ?
Is it a Masonic symbol? Or perbaps
some weird sign of witchery ?”
For once her gayety jarred on bim,
and he was unable to answer in the
same bantering strain,
“My dear,” be said, gently, “it was
given to me by one who is dead.”
She was momentarily silent, then
began again : :
“I have never noticed it before.”
“And yet I always wear it.”
“Why ?”
“Oh, Cynthia, you asked me that
once, Because | value it more than
anything I possess.
“Well, I will give you one quite as
quaint, and with an original inscrip-
tion—will you wear it for me ?”
Her pretty eagerness made him
smile.
“Of course I will.”
She fluched a ‘little. “I mean, will
you wear it instead of this 2" .
“No ; I cannot promise that.”
His answer startled her; it was so
grave and resolute,
attack ; .*‘But don’t you see, it I gave
if to you, it would be your most pre-
cious poesession. - Don’t you care for
me better than anyone in the world.
He drew her to him fondly.
“Yes ; I can answer that with truth,
but you would not have me break my
promise ?" frig
“What promise ?"
“I vowed to wear itas long as I live,
It it be possible, it shall be buried with
me... ;
“The dying have no right to extort
such promises from the living,” she
remarked seotentiously. “Your friend
was extremely selfish.” :
“Ob, Cynthia, she was an angel I"
There was more eorrow than anger
in the tone. He did not look for much
depth of teeling in Cynthia—she had
been too spoilt. It was his task to
bring out the loveble points ie her na-
ture that ber luxurious life had left un-
developed, and in which his love-
dimmed eyes had foreseen great and
noble possibilities.
“She was~your first wife ?"’ asked
Cyuthia slowly, and showing no dis-
position to retract her former opinioh.
“Yes ; the ring had been in her fam
ily for many generations. She con
sidered it a kind of talisinan, and wore
it always till, dying, she bequeathed it
There is my story,
“Tt did pot bring her lick,” said
Though
She renewed the |
and unnatural. : i
“It bad no power to prevent the ac-!
cidert that ended our three years of |
bappiness,” he assented,
“Bill, she believed in its power, and |
when——"’
ately :
future,” she said, rising and pacing
the room rapidly. “I don’t want you
to be always dwelling upon what has
been, making useless comparisons. 1
want you only to care for me—only to
think of me, “Look,” she went on,
racing him suddenly, with wet eyes,
‘you have made me cry. Bautit is
better that we understand each other
before itis too late. I want to tell
me.”” She put her hand to her throat.
Her agitation alarmed him. This
foolish rivalry, this jealousy of the
dead, was unaccountable. He strove
to calm her. ;
“Cynthia, what have I said to hurt
you ?”’ How shall the past affect the
promise of our lives ? The shrine that
pure and lovely spirit holds in my
heart deprives you of no fraction of
the love that is ever yours ; it is some-
thing sacred and apart. I will not be-
lieve you can misunderstand me.
She had hardly listened to his argn-
ment, feeling only from its tenor that
she was being thwarted. Now she
turned, speaking vehemently, an angry
patch of color on either cheek.
“Then there is always to be a
shadow between us. I am to give all—
all—and to share your devotion with
the memory of the absorbing love you
hardlv need that bauble to recall.”
“You are unreasonably excited.
Pause a moment, Cynthia ; sit down.”
She obeyed, shrinking a little as he
seated himself beside her and ' clasped
one small, unwilling hand
“There isno need for a discussion
that pains and surprises me beyond
measure. You knew ol my first mar-
riage when you consented to make me
the happiest of men. Nothing has
occurred, could occur, to lessen your
confidence in the depth of my feeling,
It is. wrong, it is unfair, to reproach
me with a remembrance I would will-
ingly have held in silence had you not
forced the subject on me. But I
promise it shall trouble you no more.
Come, seal the. compact with a kiss.”
But Cynthia was obdurate ; her.red
lips closed forbiddingly. All her pretty
irlishness had vanished, leaving a
ook of mature resolution on her face
that betrayed unsuspected depths of
character. He waited expectantly,
but she did not move.
“This is beyond me,” he began at
laet, impatiently. “What more can I
say ? What would you have me do ?”
She raised her tearful eyes beseech-
ingly.
“You know there is nothing con-
gistent with my ideas of honor and
duty that I would not grant you,
dear.” ;
With an effort she resumed her old
charm of manner, and bestowed a kiss
that savored more of appeal than rec-
onciliation.
“It is a little thing and cannot burt
anyone. I have set my heart on it. It
you really care for me, you will coan-
sent.” cri
He held her face careesingly to bis
own,
“Well, my dearest ?”’
She whispered so softly that he bent
down to hear.
“Don’t wear that ring.”
It needed great control to repress
the angry remonstrance that roee to
his lips. >
4] thought we had ‘argued that to a
satisfactory conclusion,’ he said. ‘If
vou had any consideration for me, you
would uot desire such a thing.”
‘Aud, if you were really fond of me,
you would not refuse it,” replied Cyn-
thia, rising. “I don’t want to be re-
minded every day of her whose place I
am taking. My married life must not
be bampered with pbantome. In short,
that ring vexes me, and I will not be
vexed.” 2
He had risen, too, and faced her,
pale and frowning.
YJ] gave my word ; I cannot break
it.” .
“Then I must break mine.”
She spoke with quiet determination,
{though her heart throbbed as she
drew her betrothed gift deliberately
from her finger and beld it out to him
“Cynthia | so lightly, for a whim I"
“If so earnest a wish may be termed
a whim, yes.” :
“But you can't mean it,”’ he said
breathlessly, and ignoring the out-
stretched jewel. “Give mea little time
to consider it; it is impoesible that
this can part us,” 3
“It seems impossible that you cap
fail me in sojemall a sacrifice,’ she 381
Joined, with a bitter, little laugh ; ‘still, |
you see, such things may happen.” |’
Her calm air of resolution was mad:
dening, yet he felt instinctively that mn
word of reproach or anger would help.
difficult ; there was no way out of the
dilemma.
“A little time,” he pleaded.
The sound of an approaching voice
terminated the trying interview. They
recognized the suave and gentle tones.
My dear;Cyntbia,” said her mother,
entering. “I have only just returned.
Have you any idea of the time 7"! she
broke off, smiling. “Ah! ot course
not ; I did not know who was there.”
The cordial greeting was followed
by a desultory conversation, to which
Cygthia contributed monosyllables,
till her tormented lover rose and took
leave. Sheleft him reach the cou:
servatory, then flew to him, relenting,
be hoped. :
“Till to-night,” she eaid hurriedly.
“You must let me know your decision
by then. Remember, nothing can alter
mine. I only claim my right. Bat,
she added, persuasively, ‘you can
easily decide now.
way. Ab,do, and end our first and
last quarrel |" :
There was a subtle fondness in her
tone, an undefinable power in her
bitterly. |
said it would link me with the past,
Cynthia interrupted him paesion- ;
| soft, dark eyes. -
“But there is your future and my |
you what I feel—but—but it chokes |
Assent wae dishonorable, denial was |
Let me have my
Cynthia; her voice stil! sounding hard swift, upward glance, that swayed his
wavering heart, but the golden token
on hid finger pressed him under her
clinging band, and he shook his bead,
“No, dear, such a vow is not to be
lightly broken. I must earnestly con-
sider your request. I wish you had
asked me anything but this,” he went
on, wistfully, seeking sympathy in her
But Cynthia's ‘tenderness had van-
ished. She drew back, piqued, ill at
ease, in her suppliant attitude ; an
owizcus frown darkening her fair tore-
head asshe turned away, :
“Ag you will,” she said coldly.
Memories that Cynthia’s presence
bad chased away for many months
came vividly into the widower’e mind
as he strolled on, heedless of din and
traffic or the direction to be pursued.
Her words of anger and opposition had
invested the ring be had almost grown
to regard with the unthinking gaze of
custom with new and startling signifi-
cance. It simply riveted him to the
past. He might discard it, still hold-
ing its purpose in his heart ; but the
thought was a base one ; he knew that
his dead wife would have horne such
a vow to the gates of heaven, and that
no sacrifice would have abated the
strength and endurance of the love
which be dared not weigh with Cyn-
thia’s impulsive passion. He had
“hardly dwelt-on it since she had been
taken from him—at first because it
meant hopeless heart ache ; latterly,
because it seemed disloyal to his be-
trothed, but now, at this turning point,
he realized his loss afresh and won-
dered that the remembrance had faded
ever 80 little in the radiance of Cyn:
thia’s smiles.
Yet allegiance to the beloved dead
meant the facing of the old homeless
life, the return of- that morbid depres-
sion which Cynthia's infectious gayety
and pretty, petulant ways alone had
had power to dispel.
Her obstinacy was inexplicable ; his
feeling in the matter, the implied
breach ot honor, did not appeal to her
in the least , she was consumed by a
petty jealousy and a desire to make
bim yield. A lurking doubt as.to the
success of the task he had set himself
in endeavoring to mold ber light and
thoughtless spirit, mingled with the
conduct caused him, . ;
He bad walked op, dreaming, far
beyond his original destination—the
cosy set of rooms presided over by his
taithful valet. Suddenly he stopped,
with an involuntary exclamation, for
he stood at the very threshold of his
old home. What impulse bad led his
unconscious footsteps along the often
traversed road he knew not, or how he
came to look upon the bouse he had
shyned since the day of mourning. But
having come he ‘was glad, for the
wrench of parting was not the present
pain ; he was able to recall the grim
old mansion’s joyful, as well as sorrow-
ful, associations. For the firat time
since his bereavement he felt the desire
and strength to seek the room within
that had been hers, unaltered, as che
had left it, till Cynthia, resolute in her
banisbment of rivalling recollections,
should carelessly scatter and re:
arrange.
The old housekeeper startled from
her lethargy of idle caretaking, an-
swered his summons with clumsy
alacrity, and soon he stood at the bed-
side where some years ago he had
flung himself in an agony. of grief and
eobbed out a last farewell.
A melancholy - light struggled
throngh the curtained window, reveal
ing the dainty, familiar furniture, the
knicknacks they had purchased to-
gether in odd corners of the world, the
pictures she had chosen, her favorite
chair, the couch on which she had
lain to please bim, with a thought of
recovery. He saw through a mist of
tears, for a gnawing hunger had crept
into his heart in the chill and utter
loneliness of the room once brightened
by ber dear presence. How happy
they had been! There was no death.
for such a love as theirs. It waked
and throbbed in him again ic this
room, where she had breathed ont
her blameless life, and all that had
come between them seemed like a
dream.
Cynthia was right ; he must always
be making useless comparisons, for
something must ever be wanting in his
life—sdmething that could not be re-
placed. Ga
His brimniing eyes sought the spot
where her n had rested. He could
see her now, lying there, as he had
looked on her for the last time, white
and serene, her. folded hands full of
flowers; the eyes that had reflected
his loying gaze pitilessly sealed ;
a strapge smile on the lips that had
met his in yieldiog sweetness. ~ Ah!
if he; might hear that low and gentle
toice again; if he might pillow the
y|| weary golden head on his breast, and,
asking forgiveness for a fleeting fancy,
repeat his vow with all the fervor of
the past.
He sat down, hiding his face in his
h@ode. © With the reopening of this un-
healed wound came a revulsion of feel-
ing, reproach for the self-sought for-
‘| getfulness his want of fortitude had
made desirable, remorse for the shrink.
ing from pain that made him swerve
from so dear a memory, and for the
wrong he did Cynthia in clinging to it.
But be hesitated no longer. The silent
hour of retrospect had brought him
very near to his first love, and with
the bitter ache of longing came a
strange sense of security and rest.
Unchanged she awaited bimj. fair
and lovely as he had known her, this
dear angel, speaking throygh the si-
lence of heaven, to hold him to his
VOW. >
| For Cynthia he had no fears. That
she had been able to make their en-
gagement conditional on this breach
of trust led him to hope its diesolution
would cause her little suffering.
A parting pang assailed him as he
penned the brief message of farewell, a
dread of the creeping, gloomy years
beyond which his brightest hope be-
tokened, but he lifted the talisman
that wedded him to his dead bride,
keen disappointment her inconsiderate |
pressing it softly to his lips, and the
shadow fled.
Cynthia crushed the note in her
band. Shewas hurt ; she was indig-
nant ; she was scornful ; a hundred
sensations, mingled with no thoughis
“of surrender, struggled for mastery in
her swelling heart. Bat the faint, uu-
confessed regret that stirred beneath
the angry tumult, the feeling that lies
80 deep 1n some eouls that only agon
may wring it forth, the deadened wail-
ing of {love that will not be stilled—
these were among? the bitterest tears
she had shed.
Republican Prospects.
There are still some Republicans liv-
ing who remember the great days of
their party—the days when hosts of
public-spirited and sincere men left the
ranks of the Whigs and of the Demo-
crats to found a new organization de-
voted to high moral and political aims,
under the leadership of statesmen of
eminent character, commanding ability,
and the courage of sincere convictions.
The contrast between the spirit and
condition of the Republican party in
forth melancholy reflections. The time
for its national convention ‘is approach.
ing. The original antislavery mission
of the Republican party has long been
fulfilled, and new problems of great
importance are pressing for solution.
The Republican party still pretends
that it contains in its ranks the best of
popular intelligence and virtue. It
claims public confidence and support on
the ground that by this superior intelli-
gence and virtue it is best fitted to solve
the great problems before us. What
these problems are every candid ob.
server knows. The business community
of the countfy admits that the tariff is
no longer one of them. While some
selfish interests still clamor for higher
protection, the business world at large
18 known to be on the whole satisfied,
for the time being at least, with the
tariff as it stands, and wishes it sub-
stantially to be let alone. This is so
true that even many of the old pro-
tectionists hesitate to touch it. They
revival of prosperity is not the low
tariff, but the currency disorder. The
questions really and urgently demand-
ing the attention of the country are
those of the currency, and of adminis.
trative reform by the ‘abolition of the
spoils system.
If the Republican party were still
what it once was, its leading men would
recognize it as their obvious duty to
come forward and boldly to express
their sincere convictions on these sub-
jects. They would seek by every legiti-
mate means to summon to action and
to organize the supporters of these opin-
ions within their party, to the end of
‘securing from the national convention
a clear and strong approval of them,
.and the nomination of candidates known
to be in accord with them. The con-
vention would thus become, as the early
Republican conventions were, a truly
representative body of honest citizens
intent upon serving the public interest
by making’ certain licies prevail
through party effort. What do we -be-
hold ? A large number of the leading
men of the Republican party, among
them some of the most powerful, are
open advocates of the spoils system
with all its demoralizing effects, and
even of those who occasionally express
their disapproval of it, and have a good
word for reform, but few are courageous
enough to advocate reform with aggres-
sive emphasis. In fact, in most States
the regular organization of the Repub-
lican party is resting upon-the ‘spoils
principle and held together by spoils
methods. And there is no prominent
Republican leader, at least no prospec-
tive candidate for the Presidency, who
openly demands that fidelity to civil
service reform be made one of the cardi-
nal tests of Republicanism. Almost 'all
of them are willing to let the boys”
understand that if the Republicans win,
the loaves and fishes of party spoil will
go to them as much as possible in the
old fashion. -
As to the currency question, their
attitude is no less discreditable. The
tremulous agility with which the Re-
publican candidates dodge around .cor-
ners to avoid a clear expression of opin-
ion on the most pressing need of the
time would be amusing were it not so
lamentable. Some of them, indeed,
permit us to hope that if elected they
would veto a free-coinage bill. But not
one of them has courage enough to de-
clare himself in favor of the withdrawal
of the legal tender notes—the only
policy that will surely and fidally de-
liver us of the periodically returning
financial miseries, and restore that confi-
dence which. is indispensable to the
revival of business prosperity. Almost
all of the leading men are now engaged
of the day into the background by ad-
vancing a fraudulent tarift issue to the
tront—fraudulent, we say, because they
know that the country does not only
not demand it but rather repels it, and
that it is only to serve the purpose of
deceiving the people as to what the
issue of the contest really should be. It
is a significant fact, which other candi-
dates should not be slow to compre-
bend; that the advancing of this fales
issue necessarily tends to give the nomi-
nation to Mr. McKinley—the man
whose high-tariff record is the most
prominent, while his record on the cur-
rency question is the most objectionable.
Were the Presidential election to turn
35 the true jJuestiay of the day, Mr.
cKinley would hardly be thought of.
His nomination would thus be the most
striking illustration of Republican
cowardice and betrayal of the public in-
terest. x
The preparatory movements preced-
ng the national convention, as they are
now developing, correspond in a large
measurs to the moral state of the party.
It is already evident that in the South
delegates to that convention have be-
come the subject of very active traffick-
ing in the political market, and that sales
and re-sales dre taking place at, a lively
rate... And as the men who want sub-
stantial favors fromthe government can
aftord t0 bid highest, the McKinley in-
terest is likely. to receive the greatest
benefit from the auction. At the ‘same
time we find in the great States of the
Kast the Republican party in a condi-
tion equally distressing and repulsive.
In New York Boss Platt has complete
those days and its present plight calls’
are well aware that what prevents the |
in an effort to crowd, the real problem |-
The recent attempt of the go-called ‘bet. |
ter element’ to organize a revolt against |
the boss seems to have miserably mis. |
carried, owing to the pusillamimity of ;
the leaders of the movement, who re. '
coil from anything that might disturb '
“party harmony.” They either do not :
understand that a revolt whieh breaks !
down from irresolution will not only ;
not weaken but will actually fortify the ,
power of the boss, because it will,
strengthen his prestige of invincibility, |
or, if they do understand it, they are |
guilty of knowingly fastening bis yoke
upon the party. In Pennsylvania the |
Republican organization goes even so |
far as to put forward its boss, Matt.
Quay, one of the most, disreputable poli- |
ticians in our history, as its candidate:
for the Presidency. In both cases the |
bosses play a transparent game. They |
will absolutely control the delegations i
from their States—the one apparently |
for Governor Morton, the other appar- |
ently for himself, both with the expec. |
tation, and, we regret to say, in all
probability with the power, of selling
the votes of their retainers, perhaps
sufficient in number to determine the
nomination, to the highest bidder for
their own advantage. Who the high-
est bidder will be nobody can forstell.
But certain it is that the bargain, if
consummated, will result in disgrace
and ultimate disaster to the Republi-
can party, and, in case that party wins
‘the election, in disgrace and disaster to
the country.
Never since the close of the civil war
has the Republican party had a_finer
opportunity to render great service to
the American people by taking in hand
the problems of the day honestly and
fearlessly. Never has it bad a better
chance to win the support of those citi-
zens whose political action is deter-
mined rather by their sense of public
duty than by party spirit. But never
has it appeared in so repulsive a state
of moral degradation and so unworthy
of that support. Some time ago
it seemed impossible that the Re-
publican party should be defeated in the
coming Presidential election. It seems
impossible no longer.—Harpers Weekly.
-
~ Ballington's Army Named.
It Will be Called God's American Volunteers.
New York, March 14.—The World
to morrow will publish the following :
Ballington Booth has pamed his
new religious organization “God's
American Volunteers.”
“Eureka I” he exclaimed. “I have
found it ! The new movement has at
last a fame for which we have heen
seeking for weeks—God’s American
Volunteers, Three cheers, gentlemen,
for the success of the glorious ¢guse.”
The old Bible house, usually quiet
and gloomy, echoed with the cheers
that answered the call. Booth stood
in the centre of the group and waved
his long arms with every cheer.
“The American Volunteers, all
American and all for God,” he added.
“Patriotism for our country and faith
in the Lord will lead us to victory.”
The volunteers will be governed by
a military constitution, with - Mr. and
Mrs. Booth as joint presidents. The
local branches will be called posts and
the various grades of officers will have
rank and titles like those of the Amer-
ican army. 3
Janet Waited.
Little Janet, aged four, noticed the
other day at dinner the rest of the fam-
fly helping themselves liberally to mus-
tard.
Nobody offering her any, she waited
until something drew" away the atten-
tion of the others, when she lifted the
mustard spoon, liberally dashed a piece
of bread which she was eating with the
Jory condiment and took a substantial
ite.
Her hand immediately went up to her
burnt mouth ; but bravely suppressing
an outcry, she put the bread away from
her, remarking :
i think I’ll wait till that jelly gets
cold. .
Gentle Reminder.
‘Uncle’ Peter Bates was a local ce-
lebrity who kept the tavern in Ran-
dolph, Vt., in the old staging days.
© was noted for his dry bumor, and
was never at a loss for a retort or for a
method of expressing his ideas,
One morning, after breakfast, as a
stranger was about to depart without
paying his bill, Uncle Peter walked up-
up to him and blankly said :
‘'Mister, if you should lose your pock-
etbook between here and Montpelier,
remember you didn’t take it out
here.”
The New Samson.
A party of friends were sitting ata
tavern, full of fan and mischief, when
all at once an acquaintance of theirs,
named - Sampson, appeared on the
scene.
“Ha !" exclaimed one of them, ‘now
we can dare the police and the bailiffs
to do their worst ; with Sampson to
help us we have nothing to fear from
such Philistines.”
“Quite so,” Sampson replied, “if only
one of you will lend me his jaw-
bone.”
Bezique.
Church beziqune is a recent French in-
vention, suited for religious circles and
for Lent. It is played with cards, like
ordinary bezique, but from the mouths
of the king, queen and knave on the
face carde issues a scroll on which is
printed a short prayer, which thc play.
on, repeat when couniing up their
cards. :
How the Law Works.
Stranger (Visiting town on Sunday.)
—Say, I didn’t know liquor selling was
allowed here on the Sabbath. Where’
are the police ?
Friend—Oh, they are in the alleys,
watching the side doors.
man
——Bill Nye's estate is said to figure
up between $50,000 and $60,000, which
shows how the world pays a man who
control of the Republican Organi zatiose :
For and About Women.
Small sleeves are certainly coming.
A trimmed shirt waist isen a 1-
nation.
Orphan asylum outings show no
greater sameness of attire than is notice-
sable in the spring get-up ot our smart
girls. The light tailor-made jacket,
feather boa and bewinged hat seem to
be the conventional regalia.
The face should be kept smooth and
mobile by frequent massage treatments.
The flesh beneath the eyes should be
smoothed from the inper corner toward
the temples ; the lines about tke mouth
should be rubbed from the corner of the
nose downward, and the cheeks and
forehead should be gently pinched with
the thumb and forefinger.
Mrs. Lillie Pardee, the secretary sof
the Senate of the new State of Utah,
is the wife of an attorney of Salt Lake
City. Mrs. Pardee is a graduate of an
Ohio college and of Dr. Curry’s School
of Expression in Boston. Before her
marriage, four years ago, she was pro-
‘fessor of Greek and Latin at her alma
mater.
There is no question now about the
tilt to the hat. :
No more display of an even, white
parting or a baby fringe. Down over
the brows must the hat go. It must
have a wide brim and ‘the back must
be turned up as flat to the crown as
possible. This upturned space must be
trimmed with a bunch of flowers, which
drop their petals over the hair.
If your wide hat has a bandeau in
front with small knots at the side, why,
just reverse it. Put the bandeau at the
back to help tilt the hat over the eyes,
the style is not general yet. But re.
member never to wear your hat in this
fashion without turning up the back:
otherwise the effect is bad.
The American girl lacks repose. She
is compared unfavorably in this respect
to her Eoglish cousins, who are sup-
posed to move through the world with
a statuesque disregard of emotions, out-
wardly expressed. Beyond a doubt,
the American damsel indulges too con-
stantly in facial gymnastics. She talks
with her eyes, with her forehead ; and
O1 the future trouble she stores up for
herself in the matter of wrinkles by
this last error. She is over-exhilarated,
too spontaneous. As a result her nerves
go to pieces before she 18 80. A very
clever writer has criticised the Amer-
ican girl by saying ‘she is as unre-
strained as & young kid in June pas-
the earth giggle to honestly, so inces-
santly and so purposely as the Amer-
ican.’
The Lipbling habit will ‘mar the
prettiest face ever turned out of na-
ture’s workshop. All the cold cream,
lip salves and glycerine lotions intro-
duced upon the toilet table will not
remedy the parched, cracked appear-
ance due to a continual lip-gnawing
process. Not until the habit is entirely
prompts them to ‘‘wear their dimpl
all the time. Qthers bite their lips
from nervousness, and sometimes if a
girl has palg, colorless lips skie will try
to vivify them by an
sure with her teeth.
After atime, however, she nibbles
away unconsciously, and by and by
her mouth loses its pretty curves, be-
comes rough and pufty looking and all
the charm of her face is gone.
casional pres-
Matrons of ‘‘uncertain age.” as the
French say, will bail the retirn of the
basque with delight. The round waist
is pretty enough for young girls, but it
hasn’t quite the dignity of a basque.
The ripply back is not so fashionable as
the plain scalloped or tabbed basque.
If girls would be strictly up-to-date
her new spring tailor-made frock must
have a skirt measuring but six yards
around. This is much smaller than
last year. The skirt should be cut in
ores, and should hang so that it simu-
ates a broad plait in tront. The stiff
interlining should only reach six inches
‘from the bottom.
With this skirt should bs worn a
jaunty dutaway coat, made with a small
notchedZcollar, and opened: to show a
vest and chemisette. The coat should
bave a comparatively small sleeve, be
adorned with buttons and worn with’ a
narrow belt: which slips through the
side seams.
made young person has a greater variety
of materials to choose from this year
than ever before. The new mobairs
are to be used for tailor-made gowns
and are specially adapted for this pur-
pose. They are light. in weight, wear
well and shed the dust. Sicilienne,
which is twilled mohair, is the most
popular. A fawn shade is much the
vogue. Whipcord is another material *
used for tailor-made gowns, and the
serges, of course, are perennially popu-
ar.
The vests which the tailor-made girl
may own this spring are many and
varied. Thcse considered most chic are
of white silk. The ones of novelty vest-
ing are quite gay and frivolousas to
color and design. Apple-green, speck-
led with black silk dots, is something
new. The duck and pique vests will be
all the vogue for early summer wear.
In selecting her vests the tailor-made
girl should remember that the contrast
between her vest and coat should be in
color, not in shade. The new vests are’
gnade in two different styles. Some are
cut with a long point in front, and oth-
ers have two little notches in place of
the point and are cut short on the hips.
This latter idea is for the benefit of the
tailor girl who pads her hips, so that:
the artificial swell may be seen at its
best advantage.
The most stylish chemisette and col-
lar in town is severely plain. It is a
stiff linen chemisette with a plain: band
collar, tastening at the back. The col-
lar 18 just like those worn by a curate.
No strictly tailor-made young person
will wear a stud this year. Convenient
.new-ouffs are made with an attachment
tab by which they may be immediately
makes it laugh.
buttoned to the sleeve.
.tures ; no race of girls on the face of
»
!
broken up is there any hope of a change.
Girls frequently drift into this ugly
practice through a foolish vanity that :
In planning her new frock the tailor- —-
«