sons and had helped them in business. He | velvet pall, on which she herself had labor- | Special correspondence to the Warciax. clerical friends in a landau, hold ing high FOR AND ABOUT WOMEN. .
Bemorrali atc
Bellefonte, Pa., May 7, 1897.
EE ———————
HOW SHE ACCEPTED HIM.
“I longed to kiss you,” he softly said,
“As we passed the turnpike, dear.”
“Oh, that was the place,” and she tossed her
head,
“Where my saddle was out of gear.
“How much I loved you I longed to tell,
When we siopped at the inn, you know.”
‘Oh, that was the place,” and her glances
fell,
“Where my front wheel wobbled so.”
“And then, when we reached the clover
farms,
Under the old oak tree,
I wanted to clasp you, sweet, in my aims,
And ask you to marry me.”
And the maid, with her rapt gaze turned away,
Blushed deep at his words of fire,
“To think,” she said, “that I rode that day
Ten miles on a punctured tire !
‘And so with pleasure and real delight
I note what your words reveal ;
For I've longed some time,” and she clasped
him tight,
‘“Toride on a brand-new wheel.”
—Tom Masson, in Life.
ROBERT THE DEVIL.
Of course the general’s will was at the
bottom of the affair, but the Eve behind
these fig leaves was his second wife.
They could not call her a stepmother, for
the general’s children were all older than
she was. The general was well along in
years when she married him, but that was
her affair.
There hangs his portrait, painted by
Copley. Look at it.
You do not believe he was 60 when it
was painted ?
But they say he was.
He was more handsome and fascinating
at 60 than his sons were at 30. The sec-
ond wife was rich—very rich. She brought
the greatest quantity of gold and silver
plate into the family, all marked with an
Arabic cipher, to which she added the
Chevalier crest--a terrapin—and the motto,
‘Not to the swift.”
No one knew certainly who her people
were. She said they were Spanish, and
her own appearance supported her asser-
tion.
There is her portrait, painted at the time
of her marriage. Look at it. The general
went to Paris, a long journey in those days,
to buy those diamonds she wears, and the
corbeille.
Sometimes, even when there was no one
to dine at home but the family, Mistress
Chevalier wonld sail into the drawing
room, that peafowl’s tail of green embroi-
dered velvet spread behind her, her beau-
tiful black hair turned back—like that—in
a tour, her arms as naked as Venus,’ her
point lace falling from her milk white
shoulders, and flashing from hair and ears
and fingers and flaming in a fire circle
about her delicate neck, the diamonds—
magnificent stones, worth scores of negroes.
Lord! how the daughters would stare
at their plates and how the sons would
sneer at each other as the general would
meet her midway the room, lead her to her
seat at the table and kiss the dimple on her
shoulder before he left her.
They say she loved him passionately—
that often, when she thought they were
alone and he would pass her chair, she
would turn her head upon her lazy cush-
ions and hold out a beautiful hand.
And he?
Would kneel beside her and kiss her
pomegranate lips and lovely throat until
you would have sworn him 25, and may-
be not married at all.
They say, too, it was a pretty sight to
see her with her little son. A maid going
to help her dress one morning heard so
much laughter and such baby shrieks that
she first peeped in at the door.
And, behold, the mistress on her hands
and knees, and baby, just from his bath,
on her neck ! :
She was crawling over the velvet carpet
in her linen shift, looking over her shoulder
at the little shouting rascal, who tugged at
her hair with one hand while he beat her
with the branch of jasmine in the other.
The black ‘‘da’’ sat and shook like a fus-
cous mold of berry jam, while the young
mistress crawled about, crushing the yel-
low flowers under her soft hands and
knees.
The door of the inner room sprang open,
and in walked the general, his dressing
gown with the Persian border wrapped
around him.
There was shrieking then, I warrant
you.
Those years were the general’s holiday
time. He had earned it, for his first wife
was a Guelph, and everbody in Carolina
knows what that means.
She never got down on her knees except
to pray in her life, and she never prayed
for anything except money.
She put on morning the second year of
her marriage and never took it off again.
They say she slept in her crape veil.
Her children were all born black in the
face and crying, and they cried the greater
part of their childhood. ’
The boys got ashamed of it after awhile,
for their English blood was strong, but the
girls never did, and ought to have lived in
a lana of droughts. Their tears would
have fertilized a desert.
As it was, there was rain a-plenty and to
spare, and the general kept out of their
way, gave them umbrellas and handker-
chiefs for birthday gifts, and rejoiced
greatly when they cried over him at their
weddings for the last time, as he thought.
But some of them drowned their husbands
in tears and came home again damper than
ever. and no one hut the second wife could
have stood them.
She laughed, ordered more fires, brighter
lights, opened the windows, and filled the
house with flowers and gay company.
She called the eldest Niobe to her. face
and spoke of them collectively as the weep-
ing willows, for they were tall and liked
to be thought willowy.
They cried so much over their little half
brother that the boy fairly detested them
and ran away from the sight of them.
He grew. up strong like his father and
beautiful like his mother a veritable enfant
de amour, but when he was 10 and the
general was 70 the fine. handsome old gen-
tleman died suddenly.
The mistress was but 30, just the age of
the youngest stepdaughter, and she sat in
-the drawing room when the will was read
with such a look on her face that nobody
but “a Guelph would have dared to cry.
The boy sat by her, the very print and
copy of his father, with his little aquiline
nose, his bright blue eyes, and his father's
own trick of holding up his chin and stif-
fening his spine when he desired to see
clearly.
Now, the general had been goad to his
children. Ile had given generously to his
always gave marriage portions to his
daughters. > :
They all came to hear the reading of his
will—the women shrouded in crape, with
red eyes and noses. The mistress sat in
the gown the general had loved her the
most in, and everybody stared at it and at
her beautiful grief stricken face.
The will stated that she should hold the
old Chevalier place for her son. If she
survived him, it should be hers absolutely,
to leave as she pleased.
There should be no division of property
until the last son was of age. Then came
bequests to relatives and servants, and that
was all.
The stepchildren were furiously angry.
One would have thought them on the verge
of starvation. ‘‘Wait 11 years!’ they
cried. ‘‘Wait until that precious brat is
of age? And his mother, with everything
in her hands and responsible to no one ?
It is not to be endured.’’
And so on, worse and worse.
The mistress looked from one to another.
“I will not tell you to leave my house,’
she said in a voice hoth sweet. and frozen,
‘“‘or remind you of the home you have al-
ways had here. You now have homes of
your own and must live in them, as I shall
live in mine. As long as you are in my
house you must conduct yourself as your
father’s children should. Your quarrels
and cruel speeches insult his memory.”
They took flight like so many black-
birds, but the mistress was so good natured
they flew back at intervals, and every now
and then the boy was permitted to visit
them. He went with pockets full of gold
and returned a total bankrupt. He gave,
and they took, with both hands.
About a year after the general’s death
the boy came home from a visit to his eld-
est brother, Robert, who lived in the city.
He had been at home for a day, perhaps,
when he was taken ill.
His illness puzzled the country physician,
and a city colleague was sent for.
But the boy died. i
His mother, looking at his dead body,
spoke out her thought: ‘‘He has been
poisoned. His brother has poisoned him.’
And she called the eldest son Cain and
Robert the Devil to his dying day.
The speech went abroad like a blot of
ink in a tumbler of water. Robert never
forgave her. There was no proof that the
child had been foully dealt with, but the
suspicion imbittered his life and followed
him to the grave, and so they hated each
other fiercely.
The Chevalier place was very valuable.
Add to that the mistress’ money and plate
and jewels, and one can see why every
bachelor and many a man who could not
marry looked longingly into her beautiful
face.
But one could tell by the manner of her
walking, the inflections of her voice and
the immobility of her attitude when she
sat that for her there was neither light nor
sweetness, nor{hope, nor desire, left in
life.
And yet she went about as usual, even
after her son’s death, steadily, refusing the
shroud of crape and having always in the
house light, flowers, perfume and pleasant
company. !
The stepchildren looked curiously at
each other as year after year slid away and
said to each other that she would never
die. :
Many of them died of dropsy and other
watery disorders, and their children grew
up, but at 90 Mistress Chevalier was still
alive—and at 93, although, truth to tell,
she had shriveled into a brown mummy
and sat all day and ofttimes all night in a
great wadded chair with a hood over it,
stuffed about with cushions and propped
with pillows and hot water bottles. Her
body had mummified, but her mind was
as clear and as crystal as ice. ;
She would look with her deep black eyes
at the faithful mulatto slave woman who
waited upon her and laugh to herself—a
strangely clear laugh to issue from such
sunken lips.
Sometimes her step-grandchildren would
go to see her. When they were children.
they were afraid, but as the years passed
they got quite used to the sight of the great
coffin in one end of the room.
“It is a very comfortable bed,’’ Mistress
Chevalier would often say. And several
times, when she thought the hour had
surely come, she made the slave woman
and her daughters put it on its trestles and
lift her in, and she would lie, waiting for
death, gazing with a corpselike smile at
the general’s portrait. {
At these times the family, in all its
branches, rejoiced. “There were only a few
of the direct line left. Nearly all had mar-
ried. Some were rich, and some were
poor, and all were avaricious.
At last, one morning the faithful mu-
lattress found the mistress dead in her
coffin. 9
Once again the children of the house as-
sembled in the drawing rooms to hear the
reading of a will—the women, as usual, a
hypocritical row of veiled pleureuses. All
were present except the son of Robert.
He had inherited his father’s hatred, and
Mistress Chevalier’s death revived the
story of her son’s. So the step-grandson
staid away from her burial.
His portion of the estate should be the
place itself. But the will ran, “To my
faithful and devoted attendant Cilla, or
Lucilla, Chevalier I leave the place and
certain sums of money at interest, herein
more fully described and specified.”
This Lucilla Chevalier was none other
than the mulatto slave woman whose
papers of freedom, together with those of
her daughters and sons, had been declared
before the will was opened.
Therefore was she a legal heir. A gasp
of horror ran round the room.
The Chevalier place !
But that was not all If the surviving
relatives of the testator should attempu to
set aside the conditions of the will in any
way, on any grounds, the entire property,
real and personal, should go to the dead
woman’s physician. Between this man
and the Chevaliers there had always been
feud and ill favor. .
Niobe’s son received a life interest of
many thousand dollars, and there were a
few legacies here and there amon: the-
poorest Guelph-Chevalier tribe.
The mistress’ gold and silver plate, dia-
monds and other jewels were locked up: in
a bank in the city, to be.disposed of, in
accordance with sealed instructions locked
up with them, a year after the reading of
the will.
When Robert’s son was told these things,
he turned white and then green—a livid,
unpleasant shade.
The Chevalier place, his patrimony, left
toslaves !. And God knew to whom the
gold, the silver and the diamonds were
left. “The sealed instructions with them
would undobtedly reveal further deter-
mination on the part of the dead woman to
insult and rob the family.
Mistress Chevalier’s coffin had been
placed in the family vault, between those
of her husband and their little son. By
her desire the coffins were on one shelf,
touching each other, and covered with a
"Dr. G. Stanley Hall, president of Clark
‘cline with aflvance of years :
‘robbers, self-consefousness,
icusly embroidered the Chevalier coat of
arms, with its significant crest and motto.
The vault was in the churchyard of old
King William, Seaforth, facing the salt
marsh and flanked by the ricefields.
Thither' went, in his rage, theson of
Robert the Devil.
By his direction the mistress’ coffin was
dragged out, wrapped in the pall and sunk
int
to do it reverence.
By night came Niobe’s son—who, mind-
ful of his life interest, felt ashamed of his
cousin's poor revenge—dug up the coffin
and replaced it, dripping, in the vault.
A slave of his let slip the thing to a fel-
low belonging to Robert.
Again the vault was opened, the casket
was dragged out by slaves, and in the flare
of pine knots was delivered to the marsh—
this time in a spot where the salt tides rose
daily and flooded the place.
Then the avenger of disappointment and
family dishonor met his cousin in the city
street and triumphed over him. ‘‘No easy
matter, either,”’ he concluded, ‘‘for the old
mummy case was damnably heavy. Find
it again, if you can.”’
He passed sneeringly.
Niobe’s son let the marsh
and bided his time. :
When the year had expired, the various
heads of the tribe met, as if by appoint-
ment, in the private office of the president
of the bank.
But each one, as he entered, looked
haughtily and inquiringly at the others.
At midday the large and ponderous strong
box was brought into the office and the
key inserted in its intricate lock.
The men and women crowded about the
table, squeezing and jostling each other,
the women shoving aside their crape veils
to see better.
For 50 years and more no one had laid
eyes ‘on the once famous Chevalier dia-
monds.
The box lid was thrown back—all the
necks were craned.
The men’s fingers itched for the gold and
silver, the women’s for the precious stones.
The box was empty. -
Empty—save for a folded square of paper,
sealed and stamped with an Arabic cipher.
“Shall T open it ?’’ inquired the presi-
dent of the bank, looking from one be-
wondered face to another.
“If you please,’’ answered Niobe’s son.
“Is there no address ?”’
‘None whatever.’’
Broken open, the letter ran :
My Dear RoerT—Sixty years ago I wronged
your father. To-day I repair the wrong as far as
am able. lintended leaving my plate and jewels
in this box for you, but ['prefer to give them to
you with my own hands. Come and take them
from me. Your affectionate grandmother.
a JUANA DE RILEAS-CHEVALIER.
A card with a mourning border dropped
from the letter to the table.
Robert picked it up mechanically and
read : ‘Mistress Geoffrey Robert Chev-
alier. = At home. The Chevalier vault,
King William, Seaforth.’’
“God!” he ejaculated, staring at. the
bit of glazed pasteboard and then at Niobe’s
son.
Then he seized his iat, pushed his wife
aside and rushed from the bank. ]
From the city to Seaforth station, St.
Peter’s parish, from the station to the
churchyard, from the churchyard to the
marsh.
The tide was up.
For hours he sat looking at the slowly
receding water.
Niobe’s son touched him on the shoul-
der.
“Fool,” he asked politely, ‘‘where” did
you bury her 2”?
“‘There,”” said Robert doggedly, point-
ing ahead of him.
The marsh was drying, with sucking
sounds, under the sun. A slave near by
murmured to himself. :
They caught one word, then waded to
the spot and dug, sank a spade, a log of
wood and several other heavier things and
watched the quicksand suck them out of
sight.
Then they scrambled to the marsh bank
and went each his separate way.—Claude
M. Girardeau in Lippincott’s Magazine.
keep its secret
What People Are Afraid of.
Thunder and Lightning Rank all Other Causes in
a Given Number of Cases. :
University, has made a scientific study of |
fears, and gives the following tabulated 6,-
456 fears described: by:1,707 persons :
It would appear that thunder storms are
feared by most persons ; that reptiles fol-
low, with strangers and darkness as close
seconds, ‘while fire, death, domestic ani-
mals; disease, wild animals, water, ghosts,
insects, rats and mice, robbers, high winds,
dream fears, cats and dogs, cyclones, soli-
tude, drowning, birds, represent decreasing
degrees of fearfulness.
Altogether a list of 298 classes of objects
feared was made up. The order quoted is
not quite ‘the same in different localities.
In Cambridge alone the fear of thunder and
lightning does not lead. In St. Paul sixty-
seven fear cyclones, and only eight the end
of the world, which has sixty-two victims
in Trenton, where also forty-six fear being
buried alive.
The St. Paul returns show an average of
4.86 fears for each person, those from
Trenton 3.66, while the Cambridge,
Mass., boys report 2.28 each. Dr. Hall
gives this to indicate more interest in the
work in St. Paul than in ‘Cambridge and
objective realism ; their quality is more
primitive and they have less variety. Here,
however, we nreet with fears of train rob-
bers, having to sleep on the porch, and
starvation.
So far as Dr. Hall’s investigations go it
is noticeable that boys acknowledge to a
great many less fears than girls. Forty-
four girls fear the sight of blood as against
fourteen boys. Two hundred and thirty
boys fear thunder and lightning as against
one hundred and fifty-five girls. In regard
{ to water, height and shyness, boys are the
more fearful.
The following classes of fears show de-
Meteors,
clouds, blood, end of the world, being kid-
napped, fairies, loss of orientation, shyness
of strangers, while the following seem to
increase : Thunder and lightning, reptiles,
machinery.
The number of persons who felt an im-
pulse to throw themselves from high places
was astonishing. Here is an example :
*‘Girl, aged thirteen, at the top of a high
building, was irresistably compelled to
squeeze hetween the bars of a railing to
see if one could fall to the pavment ; is
sure she would have landed there if she had
not been held, and describes it as an out-
side power forcing her against her will, as
very terrible and conquering her control.’
A boy, aged 16, says: “The horror of
hell is you are always falling.”
' ——Bishop Bowman (Methodist,) now
80 years old, has bought a home in Evans-
ton, IIL, in which he will spend the re-
mainder of his days.
e edge of the marsh, with not a stone |
FROM ATHENS TO JERUSALEM.
I have just returned from a pilgrimage to
Jerusalem, to the tomb of our Saviour.
One of the dreams of my life has been
realized. I had long promised myself a
trip to the Holy Land where “milk and
honey flow” and I write about it while my
impressions are still vivid.
During the “fifteen days I was in Jeru-
salem we received comparatively no news,
the telegrams were meagre and filtered
through the government censure, to suit
their purposes. Thr newspapers were sup-
pressed by the Turkish government.
On reading the back numbers of the
newspapers I am astonished and’ gratified
to learn, that the combined powers are no
further advanced in their grotesque at-
tempts at repression of the Cretan revolt
and the war-like preparations of Greece,
than they were three weeks ago.
But let me take up the thread of my
story where I cut it, my letter from Athens
mailed you March 11th.
The Catholic priests with whom I had
been traveling having applied to their per-
sonal conductor tosecure them an audience
with King George, of Greece, he assured
| them it was an impossibility. They then
applied to the American Minister, Mr.
Alexander, who, it appears, enjoys but lit-
tle favor at Court and consequently declin-
ed to make the request.
The American Consul Mr. Horton, who,
be it said en passant, was a newspaper re-
porter at Chicago before becoming Consul,
had gone to the front at Larissa, (Thessa-
ly), with" the correspondent of the New
York Herald. My companions were a lot
of stubble bearded priests, several of the
most’ intelligent and least dissipated of
whom came to me, a veteran traveler and
linguist as they flatteringly entitled me, to
ask me to try to secure a shake hands with
King Yorgo, as the Greeks call him.
I undertook it and went at the task with
the vim, vigor and determination to succeed
which my friends know I possess. It was
not so difficult as I thought it would be.
As a starting point I knew that the pro-
prietor of hotel Grande Bretagne had been
in the service of King George of Greece,
(not Grease by natural induction) first as
dishwasher when a hoy, later as Chef, when
he had mastered the intricacies of a Brillat
Savarinian cuisine, The ex-chef, a dis-
tinction of which he is proud, introduced
me to a patriarchal patriot, one of the
leaders of the Hetairie National, who con-
sented to undertake to secure us the au-
dience, and forthwith we proceeded to the
King’s palace, within a stone’s throw of the
hotel. ”
The Major Domo of the palace, re-
ceived me with voluble affability, pro-
testing that the King was excessively busy,
wrestling with and deciding problems the
solution of which meant, perhaps, the life
or death of Greece, ete.
He consented, however, to lay our cards
and our request before the King. A few
hours after I was notified that the audi-
ence was fixed for the next morning at
eleven and that the function should not last
more than a quarter of an hour. Preceded
by the Major Domo we filed in. The
strong intellectual faces of the priests in
wood-choppers’ beards, dressed some in
sack coats, some in cut-away coats were in
ludicrous contrast to the solemnity of the
occasion, the King in uniform, and the
beautiful tinselry and decorations of the
reception room.
The Duke of Sparta, the Crown Prince
: stood beside King Yorgo.
I had to measure up to the occasion, for
the priests had made me their spokesman.
In a few sentences, in French, I told the
King that we as American citizens admir-
ed and applauded the pat.iotic action of
the heroic Nation of which he was the dig-
nified Sovereign. That we believed the
people of all christian nations justified and
applauded Greece for arming for the de-
fense of her sons in Crete, and condemned
the actions of the intriguing combined
powers who place might above right.
We exchanged a few words with the
King and the Diadoque and filed out de-
lighted with our Kingly, cordial reception.
King George is tall and fair with blue
eyes and regular features. He reminds me
of my friend Hon. George S. Graham, of
Philadelphia. He is, as you know, the
son of the King of Denmark, has been king
of Greece since 1863. He married the
Queen, who was Archduchess Olga of Rus- |
sia when she was only sixteen years old
and he only twenty.
The future King of Greece bears the
proud title of Duke of Sparta. He was
educated at Heidelberg and Berlin. He is
married tothe third daughter of Empress
Frederick. mother of the Emperor of Ger-
many, William II, the poet, artist, orator (?)
The second son, Prince George, is the
hero of the hour owing to his recent actions
in Crete, where he commands the torpedo
fleet. He it was who saved the present
Emperor of Russia's life by warding off the
sword of a Japanese fanatic when the two
were traveling in the East, several years
ago, and he can claim to be his imperial
cousin's most intimate friend. (On dit
that the Emperor of Russia has still an
open wound from this attack, that the ex-
cessively dangerous operation of trepanning
may yet be necessary, and, that he fre-
quently suffers from epileptic attacks. )
Prince Nicholas, the third son is a cap-
tain with his command at Larissa, Thes-
saly, where the Crown Prince is in supreme
command.
The evening after the reception, my
friends among the priests insisted on giving
me a farewell banquet, ‘for we separated
here, they going to Constantinople, I to
Palestine.
. The next morning escorted by an able-
bodied katzen-jammer and three of my
the American flag flying at the end of a
sugarcane stalk, I boarded the Russian
steamer Tchihatchoff at Piraeus for Alex-
andria, Egypt. :
Through the crowded streets of Athens
and Piraeus we drew the cheess of the
populace by ‘our cries of Zito Creta ! Zito
Grecia !
They took off their hats, cheered the
American flag and good-humoredly made
room for our carriage. Perhaps they nebu-
lously believed America had espoused their
cause, had intervened in their favor !
The port of Piraeus was deserted. Where
ride at anchor in peaceful, commercial
times perhaps a thousand ships and barks,
now ther€ were only half a dozen. This is
grim war’s first effect, the ricochet of the
threatened blockade.
The Tchihatchoff had aboard two hun-
dred and sixty pilgrims to Mecca embark-
ed at Odessa and Constantinople. They
slept on the deck under the silver rays of
pale Cynthia, in picturesque, phauton-like
confusion. Most, of the pilgrims were Rus-
sians who, so the captain said, had travers-
ed on foot a good part of Russia and came
on the ship sick and exhausted from fatigue
and exposure in the extreme cold of that
climate in March. Here they were by con-
trast boiling in a semi tropical sun.
These third class passengers offered the
most varied and curious of spectacles.
. The Russian pilgrims were dressed in
their typical heavy caps, their greasy hair
falling to the shoulders, enveloped in a
long sheep-skin coat, se Brianoliniana in
my letters from Russia, disgustingly dirty,
their legs and feet swathed in cloths or lost
in immense hoots, dripping with grease or
sea-water. The women wearing high coarse
boots and greasy black handkerchiefs
around the head were, if anything, less pre-
possessing than the men. With their pale,
ash-colored faces and their sombre, slip-
pery, greasy clothing they appeared as a
mockery, an insult to the bright oriental
sun.
Nothing could produce a more striking,
unpleasant contrast. :
As if to accentuate this glaring contrast
there were several fine types of Arabs, Ma-
jestic Turks and effeminate Syrians wear-'
ing the crimson fez, or white’ turbans, red
turbans, vari-colored turbans and broad,
red helts, elegant in the aesthetic beauty
of their brilliant colored dress and their
fine intelligent faces. ee
~ To them the Moscovites were as ‘dumb,
driven cattle in the comparison;
A first class passenger, a Turkish Colonel,
as if disdaining the common herd who pray-
ed on deck, spreads his prayer carpet on a
bench on deck, takes off his shoes, and there
on his knees reads his Koran, backwards,
says his prayers, with many genuflexions
and signs of the cross, his face turned to-
ward Mecca.
At certain hours, (Mohammedans pray
five times a day) Turks, Russians, Boukar-
lis, Tartars all went out together on the
prow, each one taking off his shoes, spreads
a handkerchief, or a mat, or a magnificent
oriental carpet and then in perfect cadence
they smite their breasts, make:-the:sign of
the cross, standing, bend the body forward
as low as possible and then always as if in
military cadence, one, two, three, they fall
on their knees and recommence the series of
prostrations, touching the forehead on. the
deck. Not an audible prayer.
Several of the pilgrims wore great tur-
bans, which is the certificate of saintly
holiness ; the wearer had already made the
pilgrimage to Mecca.
His calling and election is sure.
One of these devout, holy men inquired
of me if I were not the ship's doctor! I
offered to give him good advice, but no
medicine.
An Armenian who noticed my interest in
watching the Turks saying their prayers
said, ‘‘yes they pray five times a day but
I'll bet four out of ten of them are murder-
ers of Armenians.”’
When this motley crowd, after the babies
had been combed and spanked, spread out
their food, picnic fashion, on deck, on fine
carpets or coverlets, reminding me of the
many colored bedspreads which the girls at
home used to make at their quilting par-
ties, it was diverting to see them eat beans,
olives, lettuce and sausage.
No knives, .no forks, no wine.
Turk does not drink.
The Koran prohibits it.
Sailing by Crete (Candia) the elements
as if in sympathy with the turbulent deni-
zens of that bellicose island began to kick
up a commotion, and soon under .the influ-
ence of a sharp gale we were dancing, roll-
ing, pitching so that walking on deck was
excessively difficult and dangerous. I am
a good sailor and the motion never phased
me.
The
Crete was in sight for seven or eight
hours, we sailed along the north side- of it,
but too far away to see the belching fire
from the cannons of the Christian (?)
Powers.
After several hours of sea-sickness pro-
moting movements, Christians and Mo-
hammedans, Russians, Arabs, Syrians were
piled on deck in a confused mass of suffer-
ing gray and crimson, yelling with fear at
every wave we shipped and making con-
vulsive efforts to find a dry place on deck.
The air was impested with the odor of
mutton grease, incense pastilles and other
sickening perfumes. Signs of the cross
and ejaculations in honor of Allah were
mixed and alternated with the pneumogas-
tric effort to avoid paying tribute to the
sea. All were of one mind.
It was a temporary, partial solution of
the oriental question. , :
Early in the morning of the second day
from Piraeus one of the delta of the Nile |
T
Concluded on page 6.
full, deep breathing.
—The most satisfactory shape for the
skirts of the plainer wash gowns, that are
intended to be washed often, is a gored °
front with the side gore’s straight side to - -
the bias of the front. and a straight. gath-
ered back. These will iron much straight-
er. Never pleat the back of a wash gown ;
always gather it.
—Be sure to have your things in keep-
ing ; a note out of tune will spoil an entire
costume. With delicate organdies have a
posy and tulle-trimmed hat, and white
suede gloves. With silk or cloth gowns a
-
feathered trimmed hat and glace gloves
‘will do ; but topo hegvy accessories will
spoil the effect.
Straight, buttoned-in cloth “vests, in
cream, white, tan, dark blue and English
pink are espeoially swagger for wear with
the open-front, tailor made suit just at
this season, when a shirt waist looks a
little coolish. - :
—To fill out unsightly hollows on
each'side of the collar bone and to develop
all the neck muscles, nothing is more effi-
cacious than deep breathing, that is, if one
goes to work understandingly.
Corby Sif the breathing exercises
must be head bending movements and side
and front sweep arm movements, practiced
either outdoors or before an open window.
There are four separate exercises for the
head.
Bend the head sowly, but firmly for-
ward, without jerkiness, until the chin
nearly touches the neck, then slowly raise
the head to its normal position ; repeat
these movements 15 or 20 times at least
and take long, deep breaths. A deep
breath should be held as long as possible
and then slowly exhaled, holding the air a
few seconds in the throat. Bend the head
backwards as far as possible and then raise
it to its normal position. Bend the head
sideways 10 times, to the right and as
many to the left. Roll the head slowly to
the right, backward to the left and then
forward.
For the side sweep arm movements,
stand perfectly erect, with the arms at the
sides, then lift them up vertically, inflat-
ing the’ lungs as the arms ascend. With
the arms in vertical position raise up on
the tiptoes, and throw the head back, touch-
ing at the same time the backs of the hands
overhead. As the arms slowly descend
exhale from the lungs. -
For the front sweep inflate as you bring
.your arms to a vertical position, look u
and raise on the tiptoes ; keep the elbows
straight and touch the thumbs when the
arms are raised above thehead. Exhale as
the hands are returned to the sides of the
thighs. Then alternate the front
sweep and the side sweep.
For the next movement draw the arms
from’ the front horizontally, palms up,
until the elbows are as far past the sides as
possible, but keep down close to the body.
Inflate as the arms are drawn back, exhale
as you return to position. Repeat these
movements three or four times. The last
time when the elbows are back, beat the
chest lightly and quickly 15 or 20 times.
Repeat these movements several times.
Every alternate day the arm sweep ex-
ercises should be practiced, lying flat on
the back with the knees bent, and remem-
ber that the movements must be taken
slowly and deliberately, with she breaths
as deep and full as possible. Not only is
the neck, and all its muscles benefited by
these exercises, but one acquires at the
same time an erect and' graceful carriage.
A word about deep breathing. Not one
person in a thousand habitually breathes
to his full capacity, and consequently lacks
strength: and vigor of body and mind.
Enough cannot be said of the. benefits of
J If you would prove
its benefits, practice it daily, and you will
increase the circulation, purify the blood
and send it rich and warm to make lips
ruby red and to plant roses in the cheeks.
No summer outfit is considered complete
without at least one white pique frock,
though the usual up-to-date wardrobe con-
tains three or four of these gowns, a couple
made prettily for walking, and a smart one
for tennis.
A pretty one is a plainly made, snug
skirt of the white, coarsely-ribbed pique,
with a jaunty little hip coat to match,
having wide, pointed reveres and rolling
collar of the same, opening broadly over a
soft waist of geranium pink organdie built
over taffeta of the same shade. It has a
deep yoke laid in clusters of fine French
tucks, to which is attached the full bod
girdled around the waist by a belt of white
kid.
The bodice that will undoubtedly be
very popular during the coming season 1s
made of pale pink lawn, with rows of nar-
row Valenciennes lace down each side of
the closing, writes Isabel A. Mallon, in
the May ‘‘Ladies’ Home Journal.”” About
the neck is the extremely high white linen
collar which stands horizontally. A pecu-
liar effect is achieved. hy wearing with
this bodice a high cravat of red silk, tied
in a flaring bow in front. The belt is also
of red silk, fastened under a dull jet
buckle.. The sleeves are easy at the shoul-
ders, shape in to fit the arms, and have
turnback cuffs of white linen, caught with
coral links. When the stiff collar is an
adjunct to the shirt waist care must be
taken not only in choosing &ut in trying
one’s cravat, so that not only an artistic,
but an individual air shall characterize it.
The high collar rolling over is the rival of
the new upright one, with the horizontal
border one inch wide.
All that has been said, sung or written
regarding the heterogenous mixture of
flowers and shades on the new spring hats
was verified on Easter. You need not walk
forth in fear and trembling because you
have red and purple together on one, hat ;
the very millenium of fashion has arrived
in that the very fiercest and the softest of
colors lie down together ; they do not
‘‘swear’’ at each other or “*kill,*’ each other
* they repose in true Biblical fashion of the
lamb and lion.
You may walk boldly forth with purple
and red, and pink and green, and black
mixed in with it. You can wear a green
straw with black veivet loops and rhine-
stone buckles, and red roses and green
buckles, and 1ed roses and green leaves (of
another shade from the hat) and purple
wisteria and yellow wheat ; and you need
not reserve this combination, for garden
party or noon wedding, but you can, if you
elect, wear it with your new, severe, mili-
tary gown on a shopping tour or a visit to
the slums. :
—The latest belt and buckle is a McAl-
lister plaid silk, with a bunch of silver
thistle, and enameled purple leather, tied
with a gold ribbon.
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