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Bemorralic Matar
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Bellefonte, Pa., July 22, 1898.
Senumtn
REST.
Let us rest ourselves a bit,
Worry ? wave vour hand to it—
Kiss your finger-tips and smile
It farewell a little while.
Weary of the weary way
We have come since yesterday,
Let us fret us not, in dread
Of the weary way ahead.
While we yet look down—not up—
To seek it out the buttercup
And the daisy, where they wave
O’er the green home of the grave.
Let us launch us smoothly on
Listless billows of the lawn,
And drift out across the main
Of our childish dreams again.
Voyage off, heneath the trees,
O’er the field's enchanted seas,
Where the lilies are our sails,
And our seagulls, nightingales,
Where no wilder storm shall beat
Than the wind that waves the wheat
And no tempests burst above
The old laughs we used to love.
Lose all trouble—gain release.
Languor and exceeding peace,
Cruising idly ¢’er the vast
Calm mid-ocean of the past,
Let us rest ourselves a bit,
Worry >—wave your hand to it—
Kiss your finger-tips and smile
It farewell a little while.
—James Whitcomb Riley.
——
THE HISTORY OF AGNES,
She was born in the prison ward of the
big hospital.
Her mother, a slender, dark-eyed girl of
barely 20, had been arrested for fortune
telling only two weeks before, and now
lay sad and silent, gazing out from her nar-
row cot thfough the bars of the heavy door
unheeding the doctors, the nurses, or
even the chubby bunch that kicked and
cried beside her.
She was so young, and yet she had seen
a great deal of the world and found it very
cruel. She was tired—so tired—of the
endless sin and struggles of her life, and
she felt the fear of death die out within
her at the hope of utter peace.
She did not seem to remember about
the baby. Even when they held it up he-
fore her she did not realize that it belonged
to her, and that if her life ended another
weaker one would be left to fight and face
the world alone.
And so that night she died. The doctors
knew they could not save her, because she
did not care to live and God sometimes
sends those times of weakness when the
Dee wish for death may bring its sure re-
ief.
‘How beautiful she must have been, ”’
the night nurse whispered as she crossed
the slender hands and looked into the still
white face. “Do you know anything
about her ?”’
The doctor shook his head. “No,” he
answered, ‘nothing beyond the fact that
she told fortunes to save herself from death,
and so brought on this last misfortune,
which made her wish to die. She told me
that herself, but when I asked her if she
had no home and where the baby’s father
was, she just hegan to cry. “You see,”’
and he took the limp, white hand between
his own, ‘“‘she wears no ring.”
“No,” the nurse said quickly,”’ ‘“‘but
she has it here,’’ and she drew out a little
cord that lay about the slender neck and
on it hung a plain gold wedding ring.
‘‘That’s strange,” the doctor muttered.
‘Now why do you suppose she put it there
—odd, isn’t it ?”?
But the nurse did not answer, because
the baby had begun to cry. She did not
realize as yet how much it meant to her
where her mother wore that wedding ring.
and she was hungry.
‘Poor little mite,”’ said the doctor soft-
ly, as he stuck his finger into the wildly
grasping little fist, and then went away
to try to get some sleep before the morn-
ing’s work came rushing on again, and the
nurse sat rocking the little stranger to and
fro, wondering what her future life would
be and what the mother’s was.
In the morning the question arose,
“What shall we do with her?’ Asa usual
thing the babies whose mothers deserted
them in this fashion were packed off to the
foundling asylum as fast as they could be
sent, but you see this was not a usual
thing, because this was an extra sweet
baby, and doctors, as well as nurses, had
fallen in love with her.
At last it was decided, and with the war-
den’s consent she was carried off to a ward
where the patrons held full way, and not a
shadow of the hateful prison bars was left
upon that small bright face. But she
could no longer be called simply ‘‘the
baby,’ as there were several others in this
ward, so there arose the necessity of a
name, and a little conclave was held around
her bed one morning. It was easy enough
to decide upon the first name—it should he
Agnes, after the nurse who had known and
loved her first, down in the prison ward,
and so with the aid of the chaplain she was
ceristened, and had even more volunteer
godfathers and godmothers than was neces-
sary, but when they came to decide the
second name that was not so easy, for some
wished to keep the name her mother used,
but others, knowing it was false, rebelled,
and so at last, as she was yet too young to
be ‘‘Miss’’ anything for a good while, they
let the question rest, and she was only
‘‘Agnes.’”’
She may have been alone in the world,
but she never knew it, for she had as much
care and more admirers than many an ap-
propriated baby. She was the pet of the
whole ward, and hardly knew what it was
to sleep out of somebody's arms, and prob-
ably regarded the doctors and nurses whose
protege she was, as a collection of very sat-
isfactory fathers and mothers, and herself
as an extremely lucky baby to have them
all.
She never condescended to wear institu-
tion clothes, hut appeared in dainty white
slips and knitted worsted sacks and shoes,
presented by her adorers or their friends.
And though she ruled them all, yet what
a good baby she was, and how bright and
and pretty, with dimples in her cheeks and
on her toes and fingers, and great creasy
bracelets round her chubby arms and legs.
When she was six months old they swore
she knew them all, and may be she did—
but then she had seen so many faces, and
all good and kind, that she laughed and
crowed with wonderful impartiality and
showed no special preference for anything
except her dinner.
So things went on, and every one was
happy, when suddenly it dawned upon the
older ones that this could not go on forever.
One of her own special doctors finished
his term and went away, and then one of
her nurses went, and the others began to
see that in time they all would go, and
that the hospital authorities were not in
the habit of bringing up orphan babies in
their wards, a fact which was emphasized
one day, when the warden, who had forgot-
ten all about her, stumbled over her when
she came creeping up to him and wanted
to know what the dickens that great
healthy baby was doing in his place? The
foundling asylum was the place for her,
and there she must be sent.
That day the conclave met about her
bed again, and she lay among them and
kicked up her pink heels, and tried to slap
the smiles back into their solemn faces
with her little dimpled hands.
They conldn’t let her go to that great
cold foundling asylum—of that they were
assured. hut then the question was where,
and also how, for she belonged to the city
now, and they really had no right to send
her to any but a city institution.
As last one of the doctors suggested that
they call a certain philanthropic young
lady whom he knew into their council, and
when she came she really had something
to suggest.
She knew of such a nice place up town,
half charity and half pay, where they took
a limited number of babies, and gave them
special, individual and wonderful care.
There was a vacancy there at present,
and for a very small monthly payment, she
could get Agnes in—the question was,
could it be done?
The house physician remarking that he
didn’t know whether it could, but that it
certainly would, the momentary question
was decided then and there by volunteered
subscription, and the conclave broke up
once more.
But the result was, that the next day
the philanthropic young lady arrived in
her carriage, and when she went out a doc-
tor attended her carrying a big bundle,
which began to kick in the most mysterious
and decided manner as soon as it touched
the cushioned seat.
So Agnes moved away from her first
home, and to the disgust of her assorted
parents, seemed to rather enjoy the change
and began to grow fatter than ever.
At the hospital all had been well. It
was not hard to steal one unwelcome baby
from among so many, and none of the an-
thorities ever knew, that is, not for a good
while. /
But one morning something happened.
A carriage drove into the great court, a
queer, dark man jumped out, asked for the
warden, and was closeted with him for an
hour. Next there was a great running
among the clerks ; and a turning over of
records—a few blasts from the warden and
protests from his assistants, and then at
last a certain house physician was sent for
in post haste.
And then swiftly, clearly, sadly, he was
told the story of that dark-eyed girl who
had died there so many months before,
leaving behind her no name or history—
only a little, helpless child.
The swarthy stranger told it—his own
dark eyes burning first with anger, and
then with tears.
He had known the poor young mother
years ago in—well, in another country—
and he had loved her, too.
She had meant to marry him, until one
day a stranger came, a handsome blonde
American, who had won her quite away
from his old rival. The stranger had said
that he was rich—very rich, indeed, and
the girl’s mother had believed him, and the
girl—she did not care whether he was rich
or poor—only that he loved her.
And so at last a priest, a friend of the
American’s, came, and the two were mar-
ried, and went away together to America,
and the other lover stayed at home and
worked and grieved and waited.
He did not mind so much if she was hap-
py, but one day there came a letter telling
on its blotted, blistered pages, that pitiful
old story of a mock marriage, cruelty, neg-
lect, and then, at last, desertion—desertion
not only of her, but of an unborn child.
At first the old mother would not tell—
the disgrace was to her so great that she
could not speak of it even to help her
child, but when, as the months rolled on
in silence, at last her love came uppermost.
and she called the other lover, and asked
his help.
He was a wealthy man—he always had
been, but had prospered more than ever
lately, he said that he would go find
her and bring her back with him. And he
had come.
For weeks he had hunted the great city
in vain, and then had found this clue.
The girl was dead, but there was yet the
child.
He had money, and he would adopt it as
his very own, and then there was the old
mother. How she would love and tend it!
Could the young man find it? Did he
see it often ? Was it a pretty child? The
doctor nodded yes to every question. It
seemed he could not speak, but the stran-
ger grew more and more excited. He must
see the baby now. What was the address?
Then at last the doctor spoke, but his
voice was very strained and hard, as he
said : *‘We put her there so she should
have more love and cere, and we all go to
see her often. We have loved her very
much. If you wish tosee her you must
come there with me now. for I—I,” and
his voice sank so low that they could hard-
ly hear him—“I am going to her funeral.
She died two days ago. V—Mary A. Dicker-
son in the Cleueland Plain Dealer.
Another Marine Wonder.
It is singular what a little figure torpedo
boats have made in the war. Either mines
or torpedo boats did the work for the Maine.
but aside from that they have been of no
consequence, although their influence has
been felt as a defense of our own and Span-
ish ports. In McClure's Magazine Mr.
Cleveland Moffet gives a description of the
English torpedo boat, the Turbinia, that
travels 40 miles an hour with ease, which
suggests it is a good thing we did not invest
although there has been much fault-finding
on the subject. Apparently all previous
speed records on water are to be eclipsed
by the Turbinia, which is the invention of
Mr. Parsons, o: Newcastle, a son of Lord
Rosse, of telescope fame. The new boat
burns coal, but has no steam engine in the
ordinary sense of the word. The cylinder
and piston are replaced by a set of turbines
inside the steam chest. These are attached
directly to the shaft, or rather to the three
shafts that carry the nine screws. The
steam turns the turbines as wind turns a
windmill. The screws turn at the rate of
2,500 revolutions a minute with perfect
ease and smoothness, while the best marine
engine in the world would tear itself to
Pieces doing one quarter as many. In fact
the Turbina's screws could be run up to
10,000 turns a minute if there were any
gain. The trouble is that above certain
limits the water is simply cut into foam.
The inventor says that 46 miles an hour is
quite practicable commercially, and 58
miles an hour possible where cost is not
considered. It looks as though the torpedo
boats and destroyers now built might as
well be sold for tughoats.
largely in torpedo boats before the war, |
—_— EE
OUR FLAG FLOATS OVER SANTIAGO.
Spanish Army Surrenders and Evacuates
the City Leaving Their Arms and Mu-
nitions of War. Report That the War Will Now Be
Carried Into Spain.
WASHINGTON, July 16.—9 P- m. The
following message received by Adjutant
General Corbin has just been given out at the White House.
CaMP NEAR SANTIAGO,
the same will be turned over
morrow and the troops will be
July 16.—The
marched out
surrender has been indefinitely settled and
to-morrow morning and the arms will be turned over to-
as prisoners of war. The Spanish colors
will be hauled down at 9 o’clock and the American flag hoisted.
Signed
SHAFTER, Major General.
Fifteen minutes later the following message was recieved at the White House :
PLAYA DEL ESTE, July 16, via
To the President :
CAMP NEAR SANTIAGO, July 16.—I th
congratulatory telegram of to-day.
duty gallantly. Your message will
morrow. :
Signed
At 9 o'clock on Monday morning
command of General Toral evacuated
Haiti.
be read
ank you and my army thank you for your
Iam proud tosay every one in it performed his
to every regiment in the army at noon to-
SHAFTER, Major General.
of July 17th, the 12,000 Spanish soldiers under
Santiago, and the American troops under com-
mand of Generals Miles and Shafter later marched into the city which the enemy has so
vigorously defended during the past
two weeks.
The Spaniards made full and complete surrender.
General Toral’s request that the
with them when they are transported
not granted. They will leave their
prove valuable to our army.
Spanish troops be permitted to carry their arms
to their native country by our government was
arms right where they surrender, and they will
General Corbin at 9.15 o’clock this morning received the following cable :
“Adjutant General, Washington :
*‘Surrender has taken place.
Details later.
SHAFTER.”
TORAL’S INTERESTING NOTE.
A few minutes later the War Department posted the following :
Adjutant General, U. 8. A., Washington.
Headquarters near Santiago.
war material in described territory.
PLAYA, July 16, 1898.
The conditions of capitulation include all forces and
The United States agrees, with as little delay as
possible, to transport. all Spanish troops in the district to Kingdom of Spain, the troops,
as far as possible, to embark near the
side arms and officers
is authorized to take
garrison they now occupy. Officers to retain their
and men retain their personal property.
military archives belonging to surrendered
The Spanish commander
district. All Spanish
forces known as volunteers, Moirilizadves and Guerrillas who wish to remain in Cuba
may do so under
parole during the present war, giving up their arms, the Spanish forces
marching out of Santiago with honors of war, depositing their arms at
a point mutually
agreed upon, to await disposition of United States Government, it being understood
United States commissioners will recommend that the Spanish soldiers return to Spain
with arms so bravely defended.
the hands of the government.
This leaves the question of return of arms entirely in
invite attention to the fact that several thousand surrendered, said by General
Toral to be about 12,000, against whom a shot has not been fired. The return to Spain
of the troops in this district amounts to about twenty-four thousand, according to Gen-
eral Toral.
(Signed. )
W. R. SHAFTER,
United States Volunteers. !
SHAFTER GIVES DETAILS.
Early this evening the following was posted at the war department from General |
promised in his first message of the day :
Skafter, giving the details which he had
PLAYA DEL ESTE near Santiago, July 16.—The following letter has just been re-
ceived :
SANTIAGO DE Cua, July 16.
To His Excellency Commander-in-Chief of the American forces
Excellent Sir: I am now authorized by my government to capitulate.
I have the
honor to so apprise you and requesting that you designate hour and place where my rep-
resentatives shall appear to compare with those of Your Excellency to effect the articles
of capitulaticn on the lasis of what has been agreed upon to this date in due time. I
wish to manifest my desire to know the resolutions of the United States government re-
specting the return of army so as to note on the capitulations also the great courtesy of
your great graces and return for their great generosity and impulse for the Spanish sol-
diers, and allow them to return to the peninsula
with the honors the American army do
them, the honor to acknowledge as dutifully descended.
(Signed)
JOSE TORAL,
General Commanding
Fourth Army Corps.
GENERAL SHAFTER,
Commanding American Forces.
WASHINGTON, July 16.—Now that Santiago is practically in our possession, the
naval authorities will hurry Commodore
speed.
Commander Brownson, of the auxiliary
Secretary Long to-day,
Watson’s fleet to the Spanish coast with all
cruiser Yankee, was in conference with
arranging for the trip of this ship with the large cargo of am-
munition for Commodore Watson’s squadron in its attack on the coast of Spain.
The Yankee is at Norfolk and will sail
there about Tuesday and the big stock of
battleships and cruisers. This transfer of
quiring time, and it is probable that the
to-morrow for Santiago. She will reach
ammunition will then be placed aboard the
powder and shells is a delicate operation re-
week will be well along before this and the
recoaling of the Yankee will permit the squadron to get under way for Spain.
The navy department will not set a time for the departure of Commodore Watson’s
squadron, but with the delivery of the Yankee’s supply of ammunition very few days
will be lost before the formidable squadron will be headed for Spain.
WILL GO TO CANARIES AND COAL.
It is said that the commander of the
will go to St. Thomas
‘Reading Squadron,” as it is now
first and from there will
Canaries, where his formidable force should appear about
later, depending upon the state of weather encountered in
nicknamed,
push on in a straightway course for the
August 1st, or a few days
mid-Atlantic and the speed
of his colliers, which must fix his rate of progress.
After two days spent under the lee of one of the unfortified Canary Islands,
ishing the bunkers of his fighting ships with fuel, the final assault on
promptly made, and if the last Spanish naval
sented by Camara’s fleet, cannot be enticed from
two days distant, will be
replen-
Spain, scarcely
resources, repre-
Cartagena to protect Cadiz the American
battleflag will quickly be displayed in the Mediterranean.
The fleet, as at present constituted, includes two of
the Oregon and Massachusetts; the protected cruiser Newark,
with six colliers and a supply ship. The
Dixie and Yosemite,
the best battleships in the navy,
the auxiliaries Yankee,
Oregon has become the
flagship. The colliers carry 25,000 tons of the best coal, a sufficient quantity to steam
the fleet all the way to the Philippines
cier has fresh food to last two months.
It will be the duty of the three auxiliaries to
and half way hack. The refrigerator ship Gla-
afford protection to the colliers and
to the supply ship at all times, leaving the two battleships and the Newark to undertake
offensive operations.
What it Costs to Fight Warships.
Nearly Half a Ton of Ammunition Used When a 13-
Inch Gun is Fired.
If no men were lost, if no ships were de-
stroyed or even damaged, it would cost
$2,000,000 or $3,000,000 for ammunition
alone to fight a first-class battle with mod- |
ern arms and projectiles. An ordinary al-
lowance of ammunition for one of the big
guns costs about as much as the gun itself.
It takes nearly half a ton every time one of
the big thirteen-inch guns is fired. There
were 250 tons of powder on the Maine when
she went down, and her magazines were
only half filled. The big battleships and
the first-class cruisers should never go into
action without a supply of from 500 to 800
tons, or, say an average of 700 tons. There
are eleven of these battleships, which to-
gether require 7,700 tons. Then there are the
sixteen second-rate ships, which ought to
have 500 tons each in their magazines, or a
total of 8,000 tons; forty-two third-rate |
ships, which would have at least 300 tons
each, or a total of 12,600, and seven fourth-
rate ships, which should have 200 tons each,
or a total of 1,400 tons. Without counting
the torpedo boats, it requires about 30,000
tons of powder to fill the magazines of our
navy before it would he safe to send the
ships into action.
The seacoast defences, with their mons-
trous eight, ten and twelve-inch guns, re-
quire several times as much. The four-
inch rapid-fire rifle requires sixteen pounds
of powder to carry a projectile weighing
thirty-three pounds four miles. The five-
inch gun requires twenty-five pounds, the
six-inch rifle fifty pounds, the eight-inch
rifle 251 pounds, the ten-inch 500 pounds,
and it costs $1,000 every time one of the
thirteen-inch rifles is fired. There are four
of these guns each on the battleships Ind-
iana, Towa, Massachusetts and Oregon.—
Cor. Chicago Rdcord.
—Over four billions of cigars went up
in smoke In this country the past year, a
statistician informs us. If they had gone
up in a balloon it would have been a little
more surprising, perhaps.
Cervera’s Summer Home,
Fine Quarters at Annapolis for Spanish Officers Who
Are Prisoners—At Alma Mater of Their Victors,
Captain P. H. Cooper, superintendent of
the Naval Academy at Annapolis has com-
pleted his preparations for the care of the
80 Spanish officers, including Admiral Cer-
vera, recently captured off Santiago de
Caba. Just how much liberty will be ac-
corded them while at Annapolis has not
been definitely settled, but the disposition
of the authorities is to make their enforced
stay at Annapolis as pleasant as possible.
The buildings to be occupied by them
are known as Goldsboro Row, and lie on
the southeastern section of the academy,
between the old mess hall and the gymna-
sium. These quarters are used by the ca-
dets, bachelor officers and professors when
the academy is in session.
Each room will quarter two officers, and
each officer will have a bed to himself.
There are wardrobes and closets for their
clothes, chairs and a large square table in
the center of the room, and a hanging gas
lamp over it with an improved burner.
Waiters will attend to the rooms and take
care of the apartments.
It is a singular coincidence that the
Spanish naval officers should be quartered
in the very alma mater of the men who
gave them so signal a defeat and made them
prisoners. Among those who recently oc-
cupied these quarters are Tientenants Hob-
son and Blue and Cadets Powell and Hart.
Hohson’s apartments join the Spanish
quarters, and, as the head of the depart-
ment of naval construction he has much
valuable naval data there.
~——When Burns was a poor, half clad
plowboy, publishing at Kilmarnock his
first little pamphlet of poems, rudely print-
ed on coarse paper, he did not know that
101 years after his death one copy of that
rough little volume would sell for over
$2,800. Yet such is the fact. The sum
would have been enough in his lifetime to
pay his debts and keep him and his family
comfortable for two years. This is fame.
A Few Facts Abont Our New Possessions.
Hawaii at present imports almost every-
thing she uses aside from sugar, coffee and
fruits, attention having been almost exclu-
sively given to the raising of sugar, all of
which, aside frmo that consumed in the
islands, is exported to the United States.
The bulk of the steam passenger and
freight traffic between San Francisco and
Honolulu is controlled by the Oceanic
steamship company, their rates being $75
cabin passage and $25 steerage, though a
number of fine sailing vessels, which make
regular trips between Port Townsend and
San Francisco and Honolulu with limited
passenger accommodations, charge $40 for
cabin passage. The time for passage be-
tween San Francisco and Honolulu by
steamer is from six to seven days. Freight
rates from San Fsancisco are : By steamer,
$5 per ton and 5 per cent. primage, while
the rates to Atlantic ports are from $5 to
37 per ton, with 5 per cent. primage, and
the duration of the voyage between Hono-
lulu and New York from 89 to 134 days.
On the islands there are three railroads
which are used principally in carrying the
products of the plantations to the points of
shipment and aggregate about 70 miles in
length.
The currency of the islands is of the same
unit value as that of the United States.
The gold is all of American mintage and
the United States silver and paper money
is in circulation and passes at par. The
Hawaiian money is paper, secured by sil-
ver held in reserve. Banks keep two ac-
counts with their depositors, silver and
gold, and checks are so worded that the
depositor may specify the account from
which the check is to be paid, though in
case the check does not state in what cur-
rency it is to be paid, the law provides that
the holder may demand gold if the amount
is over $10. The Hawaiian silver money
amounts to $1,000,000, of which $300,000
is held by the government to secure a like
amount of paper. The total money in cir-
culation is estimated at $3,5000,000. The
rate of exchange is 1} per cent. on eastern
cities of the United States and 1 per cent.
on the Pacific coast, Gold is at a premium
of 1 per cent. The annual internal taxes
average $6.48 per capita, the total revenue
from all sources $2,283,070 (in 1896), ex-
penditures $2,137,103 and the public debt
$4,102,174, bearing interest at 5 and 6 per
cent. Commercial travelers are, under the
laws now in force, required to take out a
license, costing at Honolulu for the island
| upon which it is located, $570 and on each
of the other islands $255.
The statement is not such as to encourage
| those desiring to seek employment in Ha-
waii. The market for all kinds of labor,
it says, is overstocked, and it would be very
unwise for any one to visit the islands with
| no capital on the mere chance of obtaining
employment, many of those who have so
arrived being compelled to return disap-
pointed. Wages on the plantations, in-
cluding house and firewood, or room and
board, range from $125 to $175 per month
for engineers and sugar boilers, $50 to $100
per month for blacksmiths and carpenters,
$40 to $75 per month for locomotive drivers,
$100 to $175 per month for bookkeepers,
$30 to 840 per month for teamsters. In
Honolulu the rates are $5 to $6 per day for
bricklayers and masons, $.50 to $5 per day
for carpenters and painters and $3 to $5
per day for machinists. Cooks receive from
$3 to $6 per week; nurses, house-servants
and gardeners, $8 to $12 per month. Re-
tall prices of provisions are as follows :
Hams, 16 to 30 cents per pound; bacon, 16
to 20 cents; flour, $2.50 to $5 per 100
pounds; rice, $3.25 to $5 per 100 pounds;
butter, 25 to 50 cents per pound: eggs 25
to 50 cents per dozen, and ice 1} cents per
pound.
Sugar, coffee, tropical fruits and rice,
for which we send abroad more than $200, -
000,000 annually, are the chief productions
of the islands, and while the quantity so
produced amounts to less than one-tenth
of this sum, it is believed that it may be
materially increased and to this extent our
expenditures for this class of articles be, in
future, kept within our own borders and
among our own people. Of sugar, of which
it is said the Hawaiian islands are much
more productive in a given area than those
of the West Indies, the exportation in-
creased from 294,784,819 pounds in 1895 to
520,158,232 pounds in 1897, and for 1898
will, it is expected, be considerably in ex-
cess of last year. Of coffee the exportation
increased from 3,051 pounds in 1891 to
337,158 pounds in 1897; of rice the expor-
tation increased from 3,768,762 pounds in
1895 to 5,499,499 in 1897, and in pineap-
ples the increase was equally striking,
Crow's Great Shot.
One of the last of the old inns to succumb
to the changes in customs was kept by an
old hunter named Crow. He was well-
known throughout Virginia, was a good
shot in tne field, and when surrounded by
a sympathetic crowd of listeners could
draw a long bow with the same coolness
with which he handled his rifle. Having
had occasional experiences with rather in.
credulous audiences, he was in the habit of
referring to Old Isaac, a sable fectotum,
for corroboration. While entertaining some
guests on his broad piazza one day, he was
boasting of having from that very spot,
shot a deer on the tall mountain that
loomed up directly in front of the house,
but on the opposite side of the creek. He
declared that he had shot this particular
deer in the hind foot, and that the bullet
had come out at the ear. This remarkable
story failing to meec with the credence the
old hunter thought due to it, Old Isaac was
called in. As usual, he proved equal to
the emergency. ‘‘Gem’men,” said be,
‘‘dat certainly am so; dat deer was scratoh-
in’ his ear with his hin’ foot.”” The credit
of the narrator being thus saved by his wily
and faithful servitor, he was dismissed amid
a burst of laughter; but the next morning
he sought his master in much terpidation.,
‘‘Massa,’” he said, ‘‘for the Lord’s sake
don’t put them so far apart the next time.”’
Crow’s inn is still in existence, and is oc-
casionally resorted to by hunting and fish-
ing parties.—From Lippincott’s
Some Good Recipes.
Corn Fritters.-—Mix the yolks of two eggs
with half cupful milk; add one cap of
sifted flour, half teaspoonful salt, and mix
to a smooth batter; add two cupfuls canned
corn, fiinely chopped (if fresh corn is taken
grate it from the cobs); add last the beaten
whites; place a large frying pan over the
fire with one teaspoonful lard or fat. When
hot put small portions of the mixture with
a spoon into hot fat, to form small, round
cakes; if the latter should be too thick add
a little milk; bake light brown on both
sides, and serve in a hot dish.
Mock Oysters—Put one pint of either
canned corn or fresh corn cut from the cob
in a bowl; add two tablespoonfuls flour,
the yolk of two eggs, half teaspoonful flour,
one-quarter teaspoonful white pepper and
last the whites of two beaten eggs; melt
one teaspoonful lard in a frying pan; when
hot put the mixture with a teaspoon in the
hot fat (the size of an oyster) and fry toa
light brown,
ee ————
FOR AND ABOUT WOMEN,
The small sleeve and tiny epauletts have
brought back the wide collar, which spreads
over the shoulders and reaches to the out-
side line of the sleeve. These collars out-
line a V chemisette, and cross to the side,
or are in the form of revers running to a
collar at the back, and almost invariably
trimmed with ruches or frills, if not with
grouped lines of bebe ribbon.
The fad for shampooing the hair very
often is utterly out of keeping with the new
hair dressing. Hair, after it has been
shampooed, is very unmanageable and
sticks out in every direction. It positively
refuses to be associated with hair pins. It
is better to shampoo the hair once in four
weeks and brush it more, than to treat it
once every week.
The best shampooing is hard goap, oh-
tained from the kitchen, and warm water.
This removes the grease and dirt, and
cleanses it. The most important part
comes in the rinsing, which can hardly he
carried to the extreme. In the hair dress-
er’s shop, you will remember, they turn
loose a faucet upon your bended head or
use a spray, until it is freed from all soap
and dirt.
Shampooing at home is a very difficult
process, but if when it comes to the rinsing
you bend your head over the bath tub and
get some friendly hand to turn on the
faucet, you can perform a home shampoo
very successfully. Let the hair dry until
itisas dry as a bone, otherwise it will
smell musty. After it is dry, air and sun
it, and then do it up the best you can until
a little natural grease accumulates in it.
Many people use a little vaseline on the
hair to restore some of the natural grease
which has been taken from it. The vase-
line is rubbed into the roots and not into
the hair, and only the smallest bit is need-
ed. A bitassmall as a pea is sufficient
for the entire hair.
An egg shampoo is something of which
every woman has heard, but few know its
efficacy. The yoke of an egg is well beat-
en, after which it is rubbed into the roots
of the hair and gradually worked in until
the whole head is covered with it. Then
before the egg is washed out soap is rubbed
into the hair. and the whole is mixed up
together until a lather is formed. Warm
water is poured through the hair, then
comes water a little cooler, and finally a
dash of cold water until the hair is accli-
mated to the winds. This makes a most
successful shampoo.
A little warm glycerine rubbed into the
scalp with the fingers after the hair is
shaken out counteracts the tendency to
dryness which is common to some heads.
After such treatment there should be persist-
ent bushing. This dryness of the scalp is
one of the most prolific sources of dandruff,
and any treatment that secures some oil to
the hair will have a tendency to mitigate
the other evil as well. An excellent wash
for the hair is made of rosemary tea, to
which may be added a little whiskey.
Stale bread may be freshened by dipping
the loaf quickly into hot water and baking
for a few moments in a quick oven. Salt
and liquid ammonia will remove egg stains
from plated spoons. A few drops of gly-
cerine put around the edge of a jar of fruit
will prevent mold. Rough irons may be
made smooth by rubbing them on a board
plentifully sprinkled with salt. Children
should never be given pork, veal or sausage,
cabbage, hot cakes, pies or candy. By
soaking black calico in salt and water be-
fore washing the color will be retained.
Water should be drained from vegetables as
soon as they are cooked.
Pique is to be very smart this year, and
no wonder, if all the gowns made of it in
the slightest degree, resemble a charming
white one with a pink batiste shirt blouse,
having tiny tucks divided by insertion.
The skirt was cut with the now usual bias
flounce below the knee, a band of open
work guipure insertion let in above. The
cut of the little coat was so pretty, having
a short rounded basque with revers, ar-
ranged with incisions, and yellow pique
let in and covered with insertion. A white
serge for a similar occasion had the skirt
cut in the new fashion, and trimmed with
rows of silver braid, in sets of three and
five, brought up in a rounded form in the
frout, so that it made a point in the centre
of the depth. Thishad a pink and white
foulard skirt very much ruffled, having
revers on a graceful little jacket, its short
basque covered with the same foulard and
lines of silver braid carried up the back.
Foulard is an important element in dress,
a navy blue and white is very sim-
ple made with a full front, the square
collar of the same edged with a frill. The
very latest wrinkle in the white pique is a
collar of black satin and low double-
breasted waistcoat of the same. Over this
pouches a full blouse of buff, blue, pink or
white lawn—preferably buff. The black
satin does not cover the reveres, but only
the collar, just as the velvet is put on a
man’s overcoat. It isadjustible, too, being
completely lined and finished, and slip
stitched on so that it can be removed when
sent to the laundry. The tailor tells you
that the white suit with black satin collar
and waistcoat is “‘swell,” and if you have
the right appreciation of that term you will
agree with him. Holland linens, with
waistcoats of bright striped pique, or those
of pure white with heavy pearl buttons,
are almost equally stylish, and there are
fancy crashes that are exceedingly modish
among the summer tailor dresses. A lot of
heavy white braiding is done on the Hol-
land suits. This has always been a favor-
ite mode of trimming the dull brown lin-
ens, and none prettier or more suitable
seems to have presented itself this season.
For summer traveling costumes linen takes
the lead.
White linen duck makes an admirable
jacket suit. Ginghams are not as popular
as it was supposed they would be. It is
either the heavier weight cotton stuffs or
the very airy lawns or muslins that are in
demand. Morning and house gowns of
plain color ginghams, these trimmed with
white linen, are fancied hy some women.
They are certainly very cool looking, and,
as a rule, wash better than the ginghams
of various color mixtures.
Truly elegant are the already gored and
decorated Indian muslin skirts that have
been sent out as samples by the importers.
These are intended for separate skirts, and
no bodice is thought too nice to top them.
Embroidered white pique skirts are also
among the novelties. White skirts of fine
French lawns, every ruffle edged with lace,
have come to us very lately from Paris.
You may wear these with any washable
waist you desire, a smart effect in Madras
being thought in keeping quite as well as
something more gauzy. The prettiest of
all waists, though is the beautiful tucked
one of white lawn. This is made strictly
after the shirt waist model, with starched
cuffs and linen collar. Pearl cuff buttons
close the sleeves and small, thick, sewed
on pearl buttons are put down the front.
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