Ee.
Eh a,
Benoa] Ra.
Bellefonte, Pa., July 19, 1907.
A FRANCISCAN SERMON.
Little children, for His sake,
Who a baby's form did take,
Who disdained pot at all
Asses’ manger, oxen's stall—
Love His dumb things for His sake.
From that stali at Bethlehem
His child's gaze wes turned on them,
Very sweetly it might be
For their hospitality;
Inns were full at Bethlehem,
All the world went round and round,
Ignorant; might none be found
Worthy to behold His birth
Save those lowliest things on earth,
While the ignorant world went round.
Not by chance, O children dear.
Read His lesson; it is clear:
Not the lowliest living thing
Stands outside His fathering:
Read Bis lesson, children dear.
He, God's Lamb and little Child,
Surely He was sweet and mild
As those innocent lambs you know,
Gambolling in their coats of snow;
Imaging God's Lamb and Child.
For His sake, the blessed Lamb,
Love dumb creatures in His pame,
Our poor brethren, patient, mild,
Lowlier than the lowliest child,
Aes and oxen, sheep und lamb,
And the dear birds of the air,
All their pretty nestlings square;
And the fiy upon the pane;
And the butterfly so vain
Of his wings that light the air.
Not alone your dog so wise,
With his kind heart in his eyes;
Nor your bird that sings in mirth;
Nor your pussy on the hearth—
Love all living things likewise,
Let your love be wide as His,
With the whole world round His knees;
Gather into your warm heart
All His creatures—not a part;
So your love shall be like His,
Save from wantand cruelty
Things that walk apd things that fly;
Make for them the world most sweet
By your coming into it;
Fight His fight 'gsinst cruelity.
0, believe me, little ones,
Much a tender heart stones,
Making a child's heart like His:
He rejoices when He sees
Kindness in His little ones. .
— [Katharine Tonan Hinkson,
SHIRAZ
I first met bim pear the cross road that
cuts in two the golf course iu the Happy
Vailey at Hongkong. He and three of the
little Chino caddies had been passing a
tennis-ball, one from another, with their
feet, after the usual inverted Chinese order
of things, when it suddenly occurred to his
Occidental instincts to elaborate the game.
At least, that was what I gathered from
the monosyllabic chatter and the gestures
with the ball.
He impressed me as being rather young
to have mastered the dialect in which he
was eagerly baraoguing his companions.
Is bad taken me teu long years of careful
study, and he did not look as if he could
boast that many to his age. Even for his
inconsiderable span of life he seemed dimin-
utive, but here and there a deeper pock
on his square little face seemed to indicate
a possible cause. Physically, aside from
actual size, be lefe hut little to desire, and
bis cold gray Western eye, square little
shoulders, and stubby calves were in rath-
er ridicalous contrast to the shifty faces
and lithe limbs of the embryonic Orientals
around him. Strange to say, though a
child of apparent European origin, be was
not dressed in the orthodox sailor-suit with
an H. M. 8. cap ribbon, or in the trig Eton
suit, with its abbreviated stern, in which
the average exiled Eoglish mama loves to
eny. Neither were there
clothe her pr
any of the frills and ruffles of the bigh-
caste Portuguese, although no one would | ©
bave expected them, the Anglo-Saxon par-
entage of the child was so obviously ap-
rent. An incident that followed made
t unmistakable.
The argument had grown heated. Ap-
parently the little Chinos were unsym-
pathetic to any Western modification of a
time-honored Oriental game. More than
that, they were snspicions—not because it
seemed dangerous, but because it was new.
The odds in their favor were a majority,
bat the white child held a powerful tram
in the tennis-ball that was firmly clench
in a little brown paw. This was evident
es, and scon I saw a far-
tive, slant-eyed look shifs from cne in front
to his wily com
to one behind.
A slight push and a Monyiy grab pre-
ut the de-
sign lay unmasked in all its horrid naked-
grasped the
cipitated things. Bo:h failed,
ness, The brown-haired bho;
gitnation on the instant, aod, with an in-
stinct as quick as the treachery, took a balf
step forward and planted a hard little fist
between the eyes of the largest assailant,
the boy in front of him.
Followed a fight which for the displace-
ment of the contestants was as keen an ex-
hibition as I have ever seen. I su
prose
that I should bave interfered, but I have
always an extreme distaste for stopping a
fight as Jong as the party which bas my
I laid a mild
bet with myself that my half of the world
wounld win, and so it would bave done
sympathy is doing nicely.
bat for a trick of destiny.
He dropped the ball, the better and
Liarder to use his fists, and I was wonder-
ing what latent instinct bad caused a boy
of his apparent Eastern education to zusort
ppy brought
te rather than
scratch, when suddenly he swung at an
to his fists as naturally asa
up with kittens would
assailant on his left, stepped square!
on
the tennis-hall, and the next BI
stocky legs shot up in the air, and he land-
is square little
ed with a thud squarely on h
] 8q y
Of course the scurvy
rushed io and tried to k
aud one succeeded
reach him with my Malacca. Then the,
fled and from farther up the road hurl
insults ning to foreign devils.
yt end
and looking for a stone.
search, he turned to me.
ly growing
wp of the in
was on his feet in an instant
Failing in the
his EE 3
a kis pv
kicked him
his upper teeth had cut deep into his lip so | besid
that the blood trickled down the corner of
on to his khaki
blouse. His manner, however, was un-
his mouth and dripped
ruffied and fall of dignity.
“Permit me to thank you, sar,’’ he re.
marked, with # peenliar accent which I
wn of Confucius
him in the face,
before I was able to
was at a loss to “You have come
in the time to save me the beating, but I
thiok be would not bappen if I do not step
on the ball. Saorely it wonld not
if I bave taken Y n
“They do not fair like us
pe, 1 answered ; “and who is Yong, may
”
“Yung is my Chow dog. At most times
be is with me, but toda
because later I go with my father to the
Parsee cemetery, and it is in my mind that
the dog ie not allow.” He looked at me
for a moment keenly bat politely, wishing,
as I could see, to ascertain my caste before
giving a personal turn to the conversation.
Apparently the in was satisfac.
tory, for he resumed :
“‘You are in mistake, ear,to suppose that
. Iam an American.”
y
tock it with a elight bow aod glanced at
the inscription.
*‘It is unfortunate that I am unable to
offer you the card, Dr. Boles,’’ he remark-
ed, “but I am Shiraz Moore.’
“‘Shiraz,”’ said I thoughtfully. ‘‘That is
a Persian city. Perhaps you are partly of
Persian descent ?'’
“‘God forbid,” be answered quickly. ‘I
was born there, but”’ (semi-apologetically)
“it was simply ao accident. More impor-
tantly it is there that I have the misfortune
to lose my mother.” He removed his op
reverently at the name of his mother.
did the same.
“Thank you,” be said. ‘Now I must
go, for I can see that my father bave finish
bis game and is returning to the pavilion.
It is my wish, ear, that we meet again.”
1 echoed the sentiment. We bowed and
parted.
That same evening, after dinner, I wan-
dered into the billiard-room in search of an
acquaintance named Brown, whom I found
with a group of other men absorbedly
watching a game of billiarde.
‘‘Watch this game, Boles,”’ be said to
me. ‘‘You know I'm a bit of a player,
myself, but this bearded obap conld make
me look like a beginner.”
“Who is he?’ I asked,backing into ove
of the high chairs.
“I don’t know—haven’t heard bis name,
but I could swear that I have met him
somewhere—something familiar about the
eyes. He's drunk now—or ooght to be.
Before dinner he sat near me on the ver-
anda, and in an hour and a balf he had got
away witha quant of whisker; the boy
brongbt a fall bottle and set it down be-
side him, and when he got up, it was
empty. Since he’s been playing bere, he
bas soaked up about a quart more. Never'd
guess it, would yon ? He must be a natural
physical antidote for rum !"’
As he spoke, the bearded man finished a
long run, and as he turned to reach for his
hall-filled glass, my friend struck bis fist
softly against his open band.
“Ihave it! I know who he ia! Jerrold
Moore, by Gad ! The portrait-painter who
made such a splash in London about five
earsago. Don’t you remember ? I knew
im slightly when he was studying in
Paris.”
‘‘Has he a son? A little nipper about
ten years old 2’ I asked, for all at once I
traced the familiarity of his expression to
my little friend of the golf-links.
“‘Yes—I believe he bas. Poor chap, I
remember now. He married a great beaaty,
an American girl, whom he met in London.
They were to take a tour around the world,
but lived for about a vear in India, where
Moore did some of his best work, painting
rajas and Hindus and things. Afterward
ther went to Persia, where be did a por-
trait of the Shah. I believe that there was
a child born there,and not long afterwards
Mis, Moore mes wiih an acoident while
riding. Horse fell on top cf her and smash-
ed her all up ! Died of her injuries. Ugh!
Idon't wonder the poor devil drinks ; he
was mad about her.”
“There is «till the hoy to live for,” 1
suggested.
* Of contse—and he doesn’t look liken
weakling, does he?’
I glanced at the man with added inter-
est. He was of wedinm height, broad:
shouldered, but lean and wiry, with a small
waist and narrow hips. His head was very
thoroughbred, with small, close-set ears,
and Lis face was tanned almost to mahog-
any. He wore a closely-tzimmed Van
dyke, and there was something wonder-
fally sympathetic in the expression of his
yes.
“Looks like a Pucky sort of chap who is
puttiog up a hard but losing fight against
an overwhelming tragedy,’ said my friend,
and this diagnosis impressed me as accurate.
Moore quickly ran off his string, and
Brown took the opportunity to go over and
speak to him. The other man laid aside
his cue, settled the score, and came over
and slid into a chair beside me. I bad a
Speaking acquaintance with him, as we had
heen shipmates on the ‘‘Diamante’’ from
Manila a few weeks previously.
“I need to think that I was a bit of a
billiard crack,’ said he ruefully, ‘‘but I've
changed my mind eince I struck thia chap.
Now I want to see some one else get sing-
ed.” He lowered his voice. ‘‘The won-
der to me is that he’s not under that table
instead of knocking the balls together on
top of it. He puts the ram away as if it
were milk ! He's got to windward of about
hall a gallon since tiffin !"’
I did not reply, for I was watching a
diminutive figure clad in linen blcuse and
pongee trousers fastened under the
knee with silver ‘‘good-luck’ buckles. It
was Shiraz, my [friend of the morning, and
besiipped quietly into the room as Moore
and wn started a game. The child
ized me with a respectful nod, then
climbed into one of the high chairs, where
he eat with his elbow on the arm and his
square little chin dro wearily into the
m of one hand, while his eyes, red and
eavy-lidded, for the hour was late, never
ceased to follow the figure of his father.
‘See that kid ?"’ said my acquaintance.
““That’s Shiraz—Moore’s you . Rum
little —g80 quaint and old-fashioned.
Moore lost his wile a few years ago, and
since then he’s been trailing all over Asia.
Drags the kid around with him. Beastly
shame ; Shiraz t to be at school and
playing with er children. He can
soarcely speak English !| He and his dad
chin in some Hindu dialect.”
“It’s a pity,”’ I answered.
“That's just what I jay. Just because
his own life’s been spoiled is no reason for
neglecting the boy, poor little chap. See
how done-up he looks ! A chap who knows
Moore slightly told me that Be agends most
of his time -gazing, and all that rot.
H’mph ! I'll bet he finds more consolation
in a glass bottle than he does in a glass
ball. The two don’t go together as I nn.
derstand it—do they ?”’
He yawned and left me, and I was not
sorry, for he was a garrulous animal, and,
es,I wanted to go over and say a word
to Shiraz, whose head was drooping lower
and lower, the bruise over his eye growing
darker and more distinct as the tired blood
withdrew from the weary little face.
“Shiraz,” I said, after we had exchanged
greetings, ‘‘it is late, and you are very
Will you not’ take ao oid doctor's
A listle tinge of color back uoder
the tan of his cheeks, at the soft-
ness of my voice; for of this lone-
ly little motherless chap, tly watching
aod waitiog for a , Was
infinitely pathetic to me.
Shiraz roused himself, and the square
little shoulders went back a trifle.
“1 thank you, ear, but I am not so tired
that I look. It is rather ne’ssar’ that I wait
for mY Saker, as he bave not been well this
day, having once bad fever which will re-
turn in times with—with—that ie, be may
grow so that be fear those things which are
not. For this disease be tell me that be
must drink the whiskey, and so I knows
when it approach. Today be have drink
#0 much of the whiskey that I fear he way
be ill before the morning.”
He bad turned to me, dropping his voice,
and the dread that showed in the brave
gray eyes ae be finished speakivg was beart-
rending to see.
““Tell me about this sickness, Shiraz. I
am a doctor, and perbaps I can help you.
What is it like 2’
“It is very terrible, sar. Once he will
believe that there follow him swarms of
jungie-monkeys that jabber and mock and
dance around in circles. And oocel am
awake in the night by bis scream, and be
think that a king cobra Lave crawl out
from under the bed, and behind bim anoth-
er and still more. It would not be so
strange in tbat country, for there were
plenty of these things. At that time ] am
much frightened, bat I wish to save my
father’s life, so I slip from the bed and step
with care across the floor, for the place is
dark, and it is in my mind that the room
is filled with cobra. Then I get to the cor-
nerand reach my father’s fowling piece.
At this my eyes are better for the light, and
1 see a long black thing by the end of the
bed. It seem to move, 80 I shoot.”” He
smiled wearily and pointed to a ecar be-
tween hiseyes. *‘This ie what the fowling-
piece do ! It kick me almost through the
thatch, for then I am not so big and strong
as now. As this, my father scream very
loud, and the servants come running in
with lights, and I am ashamed when I find
that I bave shoot only a piece of old bark
, the rest of which is around a box,and
all of the talk of cobras is only in the mind
of my father, who is ill.”
‘Nevertheless, your action was that of a
brave mao, Shiraz,” I said.
He turned again to the contemplation of
his father, and I to that of the pathetic
heroism of this poor little wanderer, who
bad never known the love of a mother nor
the love for a home. Now I understood
the cause of the strange prematurity of face
and speech. It was not the resalt of the
vagrant, adventurous life that he bad been
compelled to lead, but the constant strain
of anxiety and the undue responsibility : a
responsibility that would bave been beyond
the Soasaption of a boy of conventional edu-
cation. I could feel that there was much
more behind what be bad told me,also that
he bad wished to shield his father from my
criticism; and a closer glance at the man
himself told me too well that the fortilying
of his system against these periodical at-
tacks, which were nothing more nor less
than delirium tremens, had now become a
chronic treatment, although subject to more
vigorous application at certain times.
Presently I wished him good night and
rose to go. I hated to leave him, but it was
necessary for me to get ont aboard my ship,
which was lying off the man-o’-war anchor-
age with batches down, all ready to go to
sea the following morning. As I went
through the office, I called the clerk aside
and asked him, for the hoy’s sake,to try to
keep an eye on Jerrold Moore. He said
that he would do so, but nevertheless it
was with rather a heavy heart that [ went
down to the Bund and got a sampan to take
me off; first giving wy name to the police.
man of the beat, who checked it off against
the number of the sawmpan—a necessary
precaution unless one wants to watch the
coolies every second as a mongoose watches
a snake.
Every one bat the watchmau bad tnined
in when 1 went aboard ; but either the Java,
or the cheroots, or possibly a train of latent
meniories, turned up from musty corners of
my heart by my conversation with Shiraz;
one or all, together with the damp, cool
breeze fanning seaward through the straits
and laden with the spicy smells of piny
smoke and joss-sticks expired from along
the shores, and the {ragmeuntary patter of
voices whirling in the eddies of stealthily
drifting junks; all of these things invited
me more than the smells of salty mold and
burat machivery oil below decks.
So I hung over the taffrail and watched
the flitter and sparkle of lights against the
blackly nentral-colored mountain side,now
and again idly trying to pick up the going
and coming of an occasional swift sampan
as it glanced across a lane of flickering
light. Once T heard a found as sinister as
the black eddying waters under our stern.
It came from far away, but I caught dis-
tinotly the sudden scuffle of feet,then what
seemed to be a choking cry, followed by
a gurgle, like the ebbing tidearound the
hee! of the rudder beneath me ; then a si-
lence as drab as slack water.
For some moments I pondered, weaving
stories in my brain ; stories put together of
thoughts and fancies that would bave melt.
ed in the sunlight, but io the atmosphere
around me took on a form as gruesome and
grotesque as the night upon the leaping
hills beyond Kau-lung. Then, slowly, my
fancies burned themselves out with the last
of the cigar, and I torned to go below,
when a new sound came gquavering up from
the sea. It was the sound of a man sobbing
his heart out in the gloom; the hopeless,
heartbreaking grief of a child, in the throat
of a man.
The night cries from the city had become
hushed, and a chill mist, Sratpisg in from
the sea, had dropped a humid veil, dim-
ming the sparkle of the lights and shroud-
ing everyth that moved upon the wa-
ters. Ever thesounds were muffled but
still through the murk came distinctly the
low, even, heavy-throated sobbing; suchan
agudiziag wyeiery of grief as e one al-
most wish to join it.
Nearer it came, and nearer, but
to sy it seemed to grow no louder, and
soon I heard, as its accompaniment, the
splash, gurgle, and suck of a sampan’s
sculling oar. Close to our stern came the
silence, the ripple, and the steady sobbing.
I could stand it no longer.
“In God’s name, what is ailing you?’ I
called down softly. I knew that the noise
came from a white man. A Chinaman does
not sob; he moauvs or howls.
There was a moment’s utter silence; then
a voice that seemed torn from the soul
came up in answer.
“Is there a surgeon on that ship ?”’
Something about the voice was familiar to
me.
“Jama su ,'" I answered. ‘‘Come
alongside!” I hurried softly to the accom-
modation ladder, where the watchman,
who had heard the hail, had preceded me.
“Some one on this boat alongside is
burt,” I said briefly. ‘‘Go down and give
them a hand aboard!"
The sampan glided quietly up fo the
’ eh me came the
of beavy breathiogs and a shofili
step. but the lantern swinging at the b
of the gangway threw a shadow on
all beneath. there came a startled
oath from the watchman; unsteady steps
were ascending the ladder, and the next
moment the bare head ofa mao with a
bloody, matted beard burst suddenly into
the zone of light. In the man’s arms was
a small bnddled figure from which, at each
step there came a groan.
As the wan stepped under the lantern,
be turned bis face toward me, and with a
quick tug at the bears I leaped outside the
rail and gazed at the bundle be carried in
his arms.
It was Shiraz; little Shiraz, cot and
backed and slashed, a mass of blood and
wounds. The man was Jerrold Moore.
Quickly we carried the child below, and
catching a glimpse of the eyes of the father
as he lurched into the brighter light of the
ealoon, I gave him a draoght and sent him
toa room in charge of the steward. Then
we cat the bloody garments from the cbild
aod for two hours fought with death for the
precious little life, and at last I hoped thas
we had won. Nevertheless,
bank for the rest of the night.
At eix iu the morning ove of the stewards
brought me some coffee and the news that
the ship would prahably vot sail until the
following day, as the glass was falling, and
there was every indication of av approach-
ing gale. Au hour later, when I went on
deck, it was casy to see that he was right,
and as soon as it wae light enough, we
could see that the buiricane sigual was fly-
ing. I was pot sorry, for I wanted to see
my patient through the next forty-eight
hoars.
Late in the aftervoon I was awakenend
fiom a papin my state-room by a light
kuock on the door. I called out, and Jer-
rold Moore entered. He looked ten years
older than when I bad seen him in the
billiard-room the night before, but al-
though wo: face was lined sh Srawn, his
speech and appearance were sell-possessed.
““How is the boy, Doctor?'’ were his first
words. *‘Will be pull through ?”
“I hope #0,” I answered. ‘‘His wounds
are not dangerous, but he bas lost a lot of
blood. We will go down aod see him. I
bave oversiept.”’
Perhaps it was a bit brutal of me to have
taken the father in to see the boy as he
looked just then, with the freckles stand-
ing oot on the pinched little bloodless face,
and the clear gray eyes bright with pain
and the fever that was beginning to follow
the hemorrhage; but I bad my reasons for
wishing the man to see the result of his
folly. Shiraz was lying on his back, for he
had a long slash across either shonlder.
He smiled feebly at the sight of his father
and resched out both little bandaged arms.
As he leaned over to kiss the boy, I saw
a look in the man’s eyes tbat was worth
more to me than a thousand protestations
of reform ; and be dropped his head on the
edge of the bunk, and his shoulders shook.
Shiraz looked up at me, distressed,
ashamed that I should witness his father’s
emotion.
*Itis that the bandage make him to
think of my mother,” be said in explana-
tion,
“You must koow,”” he added softly,
‘‘that she meet her death by a fall from a
horse by which she is much bruisel. He have
said.” nodding imperceptibly at the bowed
head of tbe man, “that [ have the eyes of
my mother—""
‘‘Be quiet, Shiraz,” I interrapted. ‘Yon
are too weak to talk.”
Moore raieed his head. As compared
with the face of the man, the hoy's was al-
most raddy.
‘‘Are you in much pain, Shiraz?’ he
asked.
‘No, Father—and have the devilish
coolie wound you ?"’
“Ob, no, my hoy—I wish to God he
bad —"
“Thank God he did not, Father,—for
then what would become of me ?—avnd —
have sou killed him ?"’
‘‘Yes, Shiraz,—I broke his neck across
the gunnel !"
A look of satisfaction tbat made me
smile came into the tired little face.
““That is as it should be, for he have try
to stab you while you sleep, and when I
grab him by the knees, he bave cut me
very bad. Itis well that he is dead.”
“Now try to sleep, my boy,” I said. I
motioned to the father, and we stole softly
out.
Two bours later Moore came to my cabin
with a look npon his face that made me
want to shake his hand.
‘“We are going home, Doctor,—Shiraz
and I—back to the States. I have just en-
gaged a passage on this steamer as far as
bay, where we shall leave you to catch
aP. & O. Ihave finished living for my-
sell. From this time on I will live for
Shiraz.”’—By Henry C. Rowland, in Me-
Clure's Magazine,
American Tobacco.
The American tobacco crop bas within
the past few years assumed greatly increas-
ed importance. Quality as well as the
quantity has improved. The farmers in
some parts of the South, where this crop
has been taken up are making money be-
yond their fondest dreams in the cultivation
of tobacco, and it is said that the uousual
sight bas been witnessed there of the
agents of the large manufacturing com-
nies practically on their knees begging
or a few bales of tobacco.
In Southern Georgia the value of land
suited for tobacco growing has increased in
ten-fold, and towns which were in-
significant a few years ago are now im-
portant shipping centres. One place in
Georgia, w it would be difficult to
find on the map, enjoyed the distinction of
having shi one million dollars’ worth
of leaf in the course of one year. The
Florida crop, it is stated, could have been
sold twice over. The latest figures to be
had show that the value of the tobacco in
this country anoually is valued at a little
more than 000,000
How much do I know about myself ?
Such a question honestly asked and an-
swered would show at once the need of a
medical work such as Dr. Pierce’s Medical
Advis. h WFik i Sepling with the
plain facts ology, hygiene re-
productics, ib “Eagan, and is sent
ree on receipt of stam pay
mailing only. Send od on Mp sind for
Jae covered book, or 31 stamps for cloth
inding. Address Dr. R. V. Pierce, Bui-
falo, N. Y.
—Teacher—With whom did Achilles
fight at the battle Troy?
Pupil-Plate.
aay. Sonn
“Nero? How do you''—
“Then it must bave been Hector. I
koew it was one of our three dogs.”
—Sabseribe for the WATCHMAN.
wr GAR
1 sat hy bis | P8
FOR AND ABOUT WOMEN.
DAILY TBOUGHT.
After all, cur worst misfortunes never happen,
and most miseries lie in anticipation. —Balzac.
For making war on mothe—To a gallon
of gasoline allow six ounces of crushed
gom camphor and a pint of tu tine.
Leave it in a corked detijoba all night.
Next day shake well, when yon have
swept rooms and closets (and burned the
dust!) spray everything with the mixture.
It will bai nothing iv the way of bed-
ding and carpets or npholetered fornitore.
Do ove room at a tie; shot it up close-
ly, and do not open it for twenty-four
houts. There will he a powerful smell in
the air when you open the door nexs day.
Do not bare light or fire near. Throw wide
the windows aud give tbe breeze [free
sweep. Sweep aod dost again and hain
the fluff and dust.
You will need a daily treatment if yoo
will do this once and faithfully. Then be
ou the lookout for the little wretches.
Air the rooms often; empty clcs=tsat
least once a montb, and never set the dust.
n down until you bave thrown the con-
tents into the fire, More mischief is done
in this way than you would believe. The
wind caries minute particles of flaff into
corvers, and the flaff is instinct with life.
Germs of divers kind float bither and yon,
seeking a resting place, and finding many,
avd woth eggs are deposited in rugs, cor-
tains and clothing.
Waistcoats of embroidered linen are
frequently worn with woolen street suite.
Some of these ate entirely in white, but
Sole swagge: are they when done in red
and blue Bretonpe embroideries op a stricg
color or tan linen. Others are of white
pique, buttoning with gold buttons, while
still others are in linen, striped in rose
sd white, hlue and white, brown and
white.
This Bretonne embroidery, by the way,
in very effective when used judiciously on
liven frocks. Remember, though, thats
little goes far.
Other much-favored trimmiogs for ecrn
linen gowns is to combine it with a beavy
filet net of the same tone, darued with con-
ventional desigos in white and ecrn tones,
on perhaps, even in the gay Bretonne
colors,
Instead of baviog made to order the
large passementerie and button ornaments
which are in such favor as a trimming for
linen suits, the home dressmaker can first
cover a mould with the waterial, and then
apply on top of it some of the little em-
broidered medallions io heavy ecru lace,
which can be bought very cheaply.
Uuless for strict utility and a matter of
necessary economy, tlie usefnl and com-
fortable white shirtwaists is no longer worn
with the black skirt withonta coat. Of
course, this combination is seen a dozen
times a day in hot weather, but itis uo
longer covosidered good style. Instead,
ove should wear a cotton or linen shirtwaist
suit, or, at least, a blouse of a harmonizing
tone with the skirt.
Colored liven frocke which bave faded in
laundering or by an over-abundauce of sun,
way now be dipped by certain up-to date
yers.
While all-white cottons and linens will
never lose their prestige, there is a stronger
leaning than for some seasous past toward
colored effects. Agaiv we are to see the
dainty pink, blue, lavender, green and
yellow tints in linens, organdies, mulles,
batistes and swisses, which make such
charming gowns when trimmed with soft
laces and emhroideries.
Mauy colored linens are wade in Jam per
effect to give the relieving touch of lingerie
or lace near the face in yoke or under-
blouse.
Remember that the length of the skirt is
decided hy the purpose for which it is to
be used. Walking skirts, both cloth and
linen, are from three to four inches from
the ground. All formal gowns, however,
for afternoon and evening wear, train
slightly.
When paperinga room remember that
large patterns and dark colors will make it
appear smaller, while a plain or striped pa-
per of a light hue will give an effect of 4
creased size. White, cream, yellow and
light blue increase the apparent brilliancy
of the light : red, dark green and blue and
brown make the apartment seem darker
than it really is. Avoid grees, if possible;
the arsenic it contains is davgerouns.
Always avoid fantastic and highly color-
ed patterns, both for their vulgarity and
for the inipression they make upon nervous
persons and invalids.
A high dado or a low border will- make
the room appear smaller, while the smaller
these are the larger will the room seem.
A ceiling darker than the paper gives an
effect of lowneas; lighter of height.
For bathrooms, kitchens, ete., either
paint the walls or get the washable paper,
which may be scrubbed as often as neces-
sary. This comes in pretty and appropriate
dellt and conventional patterns.
For halls it is well to have the lower
part of the walls covered with barlap or
gunsacking, aod separated from the light
ahove by a narrow wooden rim.
ower d should be used in bed-
rooms only; elsewhere they are out of place.
Picture borders are best for dining
rooms and libraries.
For reception rooms a simple moire de-
sign in silver or bronze is better than that
in another color.
Altogether the best rule to follow is that
of quiet simplicity, and the woman of
faite will need bat little direction other-
wise.
Blue is rapidly supersedjog brown as a
popular color. A new shade that is soft
becoming is the nattier tone. This is
often seen in combination with brown,
of specially on some of the new broad-brim-
med sailors,
As we learned our cookery and methods
of serving from the English, there is little
difference between our dinner tables and
theirs. In the well-to-do classes in both
countries the fashions are substantially the
same. The Eoglish breakfast is heavier
than ours, cold meats are carved at the
sideboard, and the general conduct of the
meal is more informal than with us.
The ravelled threads from old linen will
be found most satisfactory for darning
table cloths or napkins,
— seldom paye to feed old animals for
—Begin to feed those that are to be
turned off.
~—Ten hens in a house 10x10 feet is
about right.
—Now is the time to put old animale in
condition to sell.
—Nothing bat pressed tin is enough
to bold milk and Pe Fo song
—Use the test and know which are the
best. Don’t guess at it.
_—Tevacity in milking is the most essen-
tial element of profit in the dairy cow.
—Tbe flavor of butter is affected by feed
and cleanliness, not by the breed of
cows,
—Eatly-batcbed pallets are equivalent
to early winter lagers. It’s high time to
get busy.
—The best time to fatten i¢ in warm
weather; the best way, a Jittle grain with
the pasture.
—The pastenrizing of milk sold for con-
saomption extends iis keeping qualities
ahoat 12 hours.
—Dry off the poor cows now and fatten
them before the weather ia cold. Be wise
aod keep only the best.
—The corn crop can be made most uee-
ful and valuable to the dairyman by put-
tiog it into a well bailt silo,
—Sacenlevt feed for winter for mileh
cows, fattening cattle,sheep, swine or other
stock, is best furnished by the silo.
— Pasteurization will not remove dirt
from milk or cream. The best way is to
keep tbe dirt out in the first place.
—Are the cows well supplied with
green fcdder? If not yon cannot expect
them to keep up the supply of milk.
—Look for borers each year; for the
larger apple tree borer the last of June or
early July and in early September; for the
flat-headed borer after heavy storms, severe
bot, dry spells, attacks hy lice or anything
that lowers the vitality of the trees; for
pear tree borers at intervals of one month
to six weeks from June to October,
—Turnips will be found one of the most
useful crops that can be grown, not only
for the table, but also for the stock, espe-
cially for hogs that are in pene. They can
be produced at a small cost, and are among
the most wholesome of stock foods. Late
turnips may be grown in the regular way,
or the seed can be sown broadcast ona
plot that is to be left over.
—A small incubator may often be found
helpful to the poulterer who is not in busi-
ness on a sufficient scale to use the incu-
bator exclusively for batching. A 60-egg
machine can often be used to save a eet-
ting of when Biddy bappens to take it
into her head that a change of occupation
is desirable, and deserts her nest. This
may happen often enough to pay for the
machine in a short time.
—The garden supplies articles that can-
not be as fheaply procured as they can be
grown. Every farmer should endeavor to
grow and provide for bimself everyth ng
that can be produced oo the farm. Wien
the produce required is grown for u-« it
will be fresher and better than can be pio-
enred elsewhere. Ripe tomatoes, fresh
from the vine, and placed on thetahle, are
Ir saperion to those bought in the war-
et.
—Land that bas been seeded to crimson
clover and the crop turned under ba- heen
found to contain twice as much homae,
moisture and nitrogen as that which Lad
no clover. This demouvstrates that it pays
to grow crimson cluver a8 a manarial crop.
Leaving oat the gain of nitrogen entirely,
the large amount of extra moisture retain.
ed by the clover land is an important gain
when considering the uext crop to be
grown on the plot.
—Fleas become pests in some locations,
An excellent mode of exterminating them
is to use the well-known kerosene emul-
sion, first adding to every gallon of the
emulsion a gill of crude carbolic acid,
and then 10 gallons of water, applying
with a sprayer. Add the acid at the time
of mixing the soap and kerosene. It is
also an excellent remedy for lice on cattle,
Apply the mixtare on the buildings and
ground with a sprayer.
—Sweet corn can only be bad early by
planting the dwarf varieties. It may bap-
pen that the ears are small, bat Th of
growth and earliness are secured only by
using varieties that are not compelled to
produce tall stalks and large ears. At the
time of planting the early kiuds such
varieties as come mediom and late should
also be planted. Stowell’s Evergreen is an
old standard kind that has done service
for many years and still surpasses many
newer kinds. Later plantings can be made
from time to time, and, with good Judg-
ment in planting, there should be a plent
fal py of sweet corn until frost appears
in the fall.
—Oue half the labor of summer may be
avoided by killing the early weeds. If
the ground has been put in a fine condition
much of the work of weed destrnction ma
be done with the bavd field hoe, whic!
works close to the smallest plants without
injury. If the weeds get a start they will
reatly retard the cultivated plants and
eep them from making fair growth before
summer, at which season there ie always
liability of drought. Weeds can be i-
cated from a farm entirely by systematical-
i working against them and venting
them from feeding and multiplying, as the
large majority of weeds are annuals.
—In considering the relative value of
the hen and geile for laying, first cost of
producing a layer is not always consider-
ed. The chick must be produced and live
pearly a year before it lays, and conse-
quently its product for the following year
is at the expense of two years’ keep. The
third year increases the product in propor-
tion to the cost and so on indefinitely, pro-
vided the hen continues a good layer.
Trae, the hen loses some time while molt-
ing, but not a year, or nearly, that is re-
quired for the pullet to matare. The hen,
too, is more inclined to become broody,
but this may or may not be an objection.
Generally, the production is not re-
duced by age, hence it is more profita-
ble to keep the hen as long as she contin.
ues to lay well, even if she is a hundred.
Under equal conditi the hen three
ears old should have laid twice the num-
of eggs that has been produced by the
hen two years old, because she has had a
year longer in which to do it.
—Hewitt—I have been pinched for
money lately.
Jewett— Well, women have different
ways of getting it. My wife kisses me
when she wants any cash.