Brewer iatcvan
Bellefonte, Pa., June 19, 1908.
MY BABY.
I take up a little cambric dress,
Trimmed with ruffles and edged with lace
And a dainty cap with cobweb frill,
But where is the baby face?
And there is a pretty petticoat,
Embroider'd flannel scarcely worn,
And a blue worsted sacque that Aunty kais,
But where has my baby gone?
There's a big rough boy in corduroy pacia,
With blue eyes ready to wink,
And a patch of dirt on his dimpled cheek —
A study in India ink.
His strong young arms are around my neck,
He kissed mother with a will,
And I lay down my dainty things with « smile
For he is my baby still, — Brehange.
“NON OMNIS mMORIAR,
Dr. Minot Oshorn was an early riser, nos
#0 much because he was imbued with she
bustling spirit of New York as because he
bad formed she habis in his boyhood days
on an up-State farm. Consequently as
eight o'clock be bad already fin his
breakfast and was reading the paper at his
office desk, when a footman brought in the
letters. Methodically he sorted them into
four classes, business, “‘G. P.’s,” friends,
unknown, and read them in exactly thas
order. Occasionally he stopped so make
notes on his e ent pad and for his
reared ue very last letter of all he
as the most uuprepossessing.
th a tolerant, whimsical, slightly bor
expression on bis keen face, he cat open
the unquiet blue, beavily-scented envelope,
and began reading indifferently. Suddenly
there was a contraction of arrested atten-
tion about the muscles of his mouth and
eyes. He turned to see the signature, only
to find, as he bad expected, shat the lester
was anonymous. Once, twice, he read it
through carefully, and when at last he
laid is down his bad grown gray and
old. A sudden spasm of pain drew his
band instinctively to his hears. Quickly
be opened a small bottle in she shallow
front drawer of his desk and swallowed a
tablet. Then he sat supporting his face
in his hands till she physical agony had
Jared. His eyes, otill dull with suffering,
ell on the letterhead on bis office station-
ery—
DR. Mixor OsBORN
DR. KEENE OSBORN
—and his face was farrowed with thought.
As last be looked up to she clock and
touched the bell for his man.
‘‘Has Mr. Keene finished his breakfast?’
be asked.
‘‘He is at the table now, sir.”
‘‘Ask him to come to me directly be has
finished.”
Ounce more he read the letter, and then
eat thinking until his pephew, adopted
son and partoer entered she room.
‘‘Good morning, governor.
eaid you wanted to seeme?"’
Keene Osborn was as stalwart and good-
locking as his unele. His face bad much
of the same strength and keenness, but its
assurance was rather that of ne whose
way has been mede easy than of one who
bas hewn out a pathway for himself. There
were telltale lines ahous his eyes, nos of
the sort uired by the expenditure of
studious midnight oil. All this Dr. Minot
Osborn remarked before be spoke.
“Good morning, Keene. Yes, I did
wan’t you? Youn will be ready to go with
me to the hospital at eleven for that big
operation?’’
*‘Ob, yes.’’ The youngman’s face lighs-
ed with professional zeal. *‘If shat suo-
ceeds, governor, no doctor in town can im-
peach your attitude.’
‘And you are to assist me. Is your
band steady? You look a his seedy to me.”
Keene flushed.
*‘I was up late last night doing foolish
things, dad. Rut I'm perfectly fis.”
‘Doing foolish things?" repeated the
older man. ‘Do yon think you can afford
is, Keene?"
“I hope I know my limit. That's the
whole hawtle, vou know.”
‘Yes, if one could he sme! I don’s want
topreach. my hoy. We've always heen
comrades rather than uncle and nephew,
father and son. 1 have believed in you
wholly aud trosted you, haven’s I?"
“Indeed you have! And sometimes I've
been worthy of your trast and sometimes
I baven’s. That's the truth.”
‘Oh, I suppose 80. From the vantage
ground of a physician's fifs, eight years
one ees human natare as it is. One doesn’s
expeot the impossible. Young blood is hot
and temptations are many. Bat the point
ie just this—one must occasionally draw
up sbarply and analyze the situation. One
must ak of his work, of his pleasures, his
relaxations, diesipations if you will, the
simple little question: ‘Is is worth while?’
Time 1s tragically limited—one must throw
overboard so much which is immaterial,
even detrimental, in order to accomplish
the work which counts. Do I seem & prig
to Jou, Keene?"
‘Far trom it, dad! You know I admire
you heyond anyone on earth.”
“Oh,” Dr. Minot Osborn;
‘‘but there’s Margaret!"
‘*No,”’ announced Keene, with grim in-
cisiveness, ‘‘there isn’t Margarets any
longer.”
The older man looked at him in shocked
surprise.
‘My boy! since when?"
“A wi ago.”
‘‘And you dido’s tell me?"
‘No. I—the truth is I didn’t want to
explain. Some time I will. Let us go back
to what you were saying."
Dr. Osborn thought fora moment, then
waved the matter aside.
“We were of your feeling for
me, Keene. Iam glad you do not think
me a prig. I suppose I nay claim some
eminence as physicians go.
Top eerok rich tv, bunch, dad!”
Tototpoisted
‘Very well,” smiled Dr. Oshorn, ‘‘you
are a prejudiced observer, bus we'll les
that pass. I am going to give you the
secret of whatever success I may have at-
tained. Here {i is: I bave always striven
to follow my prompt instinet to eliminate
the unprofitable. I'm not sure that thas
isn’t the seorst of any man’s success.’
Iva well put, any how, dad. I ehall
not
“‘Somehow,’’ the older’man smiled with
almost maternal affection at his nephew,
“I'm feeling a bit anxious about
Keene. We've been peculiarly alone for
Dawson
twenty years, and I, since your father
804 my ite dled You couldn’ be more
tome il you were my own son. Now we
are brother physicians and partners. I have | perfect.
AR rut Pryvigian for what is highest
I
in the profession. In the course of things
I must die and leave the pame and work
¥* you. A physician is bound to put the
best staff he’s got in bim into his work un-
less he’s a poltroon. We are scheduled for
saving men's bodies ; it humbles me some.
times to realize that we do almost more for
men’s sons. We've got to bave in order
to give ; we've got to be hefore we can do.
I thivk you realize this, Keene ?"’
“I do, governor, when I stop to think.
You are playing Hamlet to my conscience
with a vengeance. ‘Thou surn’st mine
eyes into my very soul I"
“I want to, Keene. When a man has
lived for his work, bas staked everything
he is or hopes to be on the structure he has
reared, it is nnspeakably gratifying to be
able to ray, ‘I die, but my lifework lives
in my son ! Nou omnis moriar I"
Keene's face was very serious, his uncle's
lamivons. Th at each other until
hoth the de of she one and the vow of
the other were registered in high beaven.
“Youn don’t need to speak, my hoy.”
said Dr. Osborn at last, gravely. ‘‘Isv’s all
hs.”
ty moved in his chair and she tension of
the interview was over.
“By the way, Keene,'’ he said, *‘this has
ad 10 say to yon for a long
time, bus it was precipi this morning
by an unpleasant communication’’—he
smiled deprecatingly—‘‘from a highly
soented individual. You'd better read is,
I think, though the anonymous writer im.
pleted secrecy after the ahsurdisy of ber
ind.” He raised the letter gingerly from
his desk. ‘‘Really,” he went on, “I'm
surprised you baven't noticed the oe
of this missive. ‘It smells to heaven !'"’
At sight of the blue envelope, Keene
started and frowned.
‘‘Hae she dared to write you, too, dad *
Why, that's the trouble with Margares.
She wrote ber. It’s the spiteful revenge of
a second woman—that’s all.”’
“Read it, please.”
Keene flushed deeply as he obeyed, bis
uncle watching him closely meanwhile.
“That does put me in a nasty lighs,
doesn’s it?’ be declared grimly. ‘‘The
worst of it is one can’t a woman's
tongue. It she were a man, I'd soon find
a
way.
“I think perhaps we have just decided
on the best way possible,” said Dr. Osborn
quietly. ‘‘As your ageit is not bard to
live down a past, ow much of that is
true, please ?"’
‘‘Moss of it, though it’s putin the worst
possible form for me.’
“Even the gambling ?"’ .
“Yes.”
‘‘How about knowing one’s limit ?"’
‘One has to exceed it sometimes at firs,
to find just where it lies, dad.”
‘Yes, that's true. Have you found your
bearings ?"’
“I think you bave shown them to me,
The past is dead, I hope.”’
‘Very well, my boy, I more than hope
—I believe. Now bow about Margaret?"
Keene's face set sternly.
“Could anyone blame her ?"’ he acked.
‘No, I suppose not. Bat you are to be
blamed if you acquiesce. It is only a
sroall part of you which rioted so shame.
fully. You know aod I know that you
aren man! Margaret ie worth a good
fight. She ie young and therefore intoler-
ant. Youth draws only sharp distine-
tions.”
“Dad, you're a brick! Think of your
taking it like this. Most fathers would
bave rowed me ont of the house.’’
Dr. Oshorn smiled whimsically.
**It’s all iv baving a sense of proportion.
A man with a chin like yours is bonnd to
win out. Have a talk with Margaret and
get her to take youn hack on probation. It
will flatter her youthful desire tobe a
reformer—and she love of a girl like that is
no mean inspiration for a man.”
‘You're dead right, dad,” said Keene
gravely.
“Good luck, then !” Dr. Osborn turned
to his papers. Then he pat ous bis band
and gripped Keene's. ‘We'll meet at the
hospital. I'd like you to be with she
patient daring the etherization.”
‘“‘All right, governor, and thank vou I”
Promptly at eleven Dr. Minot Osborn
entered the operating theatre. The case
had heen widely heralded, and the marhle
tiers of seats were crowded with visiting
phyvicians, students and purses. Keene
and swo young iuternes were to assist him
iu performing an intricate and almoss un-
precedented operation, the only hope of
saving the man’s life. The faces of the on-
lookers were correspondingly serious and
intent. Dr. Osborn asked a question or
two of the head puree, then taking the
record from an orderly and referring from
time to time to the notes, he lectured on
the previous history of the case.
The man was brought in and placed on
the table. Keene took hix position opposite
his uncle. The older and younger physi:
oians looked singularly alike in their sterile
gowns, and with their faces aglow with
professional zeal. Dr. O<horn lectured as
he worked, until the critical point in the
operation was reached. Then a breathless
silence fell in the room, broken only hy
the drip of water and the sharp click of
steel instruments.
Jast as Dr. Oshorn raised his hand to
make the oy) Belicate ingieton od Whieh
the success of the operation . 8
sudden grayness spread over bis face. He
alone knew what that grayneee involved,
‘Keene ! quick I'’ be gasped, and held
out his scalpel, then sank, an inert heap,
on the floor.
Keene's voice broke the shocked, sus
pended silence, olear, calm, reassuring.
“Take Dr. Osborn out at once and give
bim restoratives,’” he said to she orderlies.
‘Dr. Warren''—he spoke to a physician in
the audience—‘‘will yon go to my anole,
ease ? Dr. Marshall’’—to one of the
nternes—‘‘you will assist me.’
The pause in the on was only one
of seconds. Taking his uncle’s place in-
stantly, controlling his nerves, forbidding
heart or thoughts to follow that lifeless
form, speaking as if nothing bad happened
when he found is necessary to explain his
movements, the young doctor went on
with bis uncle's work, displayi
lievable skill and dexterity
the breathless, shocked interest of the
spectators tense and absorbed.
aly when the len ih had been taken
with every prom sucoess,
carefully applied, did a gasp of
awful relief pass through the audience as
it it came involuntarily from
Keene drew a deep breath,
stricken,awakening glance over their
then turned and burried from the room,
“Whereis be ?"' he demanded.
In silence an orderly pointed to the doo-
tora’ dressing-room. Assight of him Dr.
Warren and a nurse stepped outside and
let Keene enter alone.
The agony on the face of the man
vi a bad passed, and Keene
down on the marble peace of hie
When he came out again Dr. Warren
was waiting. Keene's control was still
“Did be regain consciousness?’ be
asked.
“For ome moment only. His eyes
and when I leaned down to cateh
bis worde he whispered, ‘Keene—finish—
work.’ I assured him you were going on
with the operation. Then Lis hears ceased
to heat.”
The teats sprang to Keene's eyes at last.
‘‘He meant more than thas, Dr. Warren.
How is is possible to finish she work of
such ae he ?”
Dr. Osborn's own physician came hurry.
ing down the corridor.
“Where is he ?'’ he also demanded.
“It’s all over, Dr. Cameron,” said Keene
quietly. “Why did you never warn me?"
=r Cameron wrung the young man’s
“I wanted to, Keene.” be aaid, ‘‘but
your uncle wouldn't hear of is. It has
been im ing for monthe. He wouldn’s
have is come otherwise than in the
course of she day's work. I shink.”” A
gleam came in the old doctor's eves. “They
tell me finished tbe operation as if
nothing occurred, Keene.”
“Of course.”
“Then I don’t think your uncle had
much to regret. You are a hero, sir I"
‘“‘And you praise a man for being decent
alter living with that man for twenty
years I"” protested Keene reproachfully.
That night when everything bad heen
done that could be done Keene eat in the
library by the side of his dead, appraising
the past, realizing the present, trying to
focus the future.
A footman entered silently with cards
on his tray.
‘““Are they waiting below 2”
Keene, after a surprised scrutiny.
“Yeo, Mr. Keene.”
“I will come down.”
When tbe door had closed he stood look-
ing at the calm face.
“It's Margaret, dear old dad,” he whis-
pered. ‘‘She wouldn’s let me hear it alone.
Aren't you glad, governor? Tell me!"
Then be surned away and wens down-
stairs.
Margaret’s father stood waiting in the
hall below, and gripped Keene's band.
‘‘My boy,’’ he said, ‘‘I have no words to
tell you how I sympathize with yon, or
bow I admire your beroism today. Let
Margaret speak for us both. She made me
He pointed to the re.
“I'll step into the of-
asked
bring her to you.”
oeption room door.
fice and wais.”’
No words were spoken when Keene en-
tered the room. Only Margaret came
straight to his arms.
Afterward when be came upetaire again
be stood once more looking down at she
magnificent marble face.
‘It’s all right, governor, all right !"’ he
said. ‘‘I have Margaret and I bave your
wonderful life. You won't altogether
ais 'eeBy Harriet Gaylord, in the Smart
No woman should accept the diseases
and disorders of the delicate womanly
organs, which #0 many women suffer from
until the lass resource bas heen exhausted.
Many a woman has appealed from the help-
less, hopeless verdios of she local physician
to Dr. Pierce and had that verdict entirely
set aside. A new verdios has been rendered
aod that verdios awarde the woman sound
health. In over thirty years Dr. R. V.
Pierce, assieted by his staff of nearly a
score of specialists, has treated and cured
more thao balf a million women. Siok
women, ily those suffering from jong
standing d of womanly organs, are
invited to consuls Dr. Pierce. hy letter,
Jree. All correspondence is strictly private
and racredly confidential. Address Dr. R.
V. Pierce, Buffalo, N. Y.
Official Precedence.
The Chicago Inter Ocean tells of the
daughter of a well known representa-
tive who on her tenth birthday had a
party, and one of the guests was the
daughter of a senator. The birthday
cake shone gloriously with ten candles.
A few weeks later the senator's
daughter reached her eighth milestone,
and a party was In order. Just before
the guests arrived the small celebrant
betook herself to the dining room to
take a look at the festal board. High
on Its pedestal of crystal stood the
birthday cake, and circling its snowy
circumference were eight tiny candles.
one for each year.
“One. two. three, four, five, six, seven
—eight!” ejaculated the small hostess.
“Mamma, mamma, please come here
quick. They've only put eight candles
en my birthday cake, and my father’s
a senator! Now, Mary had ten candles
on her birthday cake, and she’s only
the daughter of a congressman.”
Quick Wit.
Napoleon was pacing up and down
one day before his quarters, planning
probably some new scheme of con-
quest. He dropped his glove, and a
common soldier happening along pick-
ed it up and returned it to him.
“Thank you, captain,” said the em-
peror absentmindedly, not thinking
that the man was only a private.
“Of which company, sire?’ put in the
soldier promptly, taking Napoleon at
his word,
“Come to me tonight and you shall
receive your commission,” said the
great commander.
He knew that that common soldier
bad the presence of mind necessary to
make a good officer.
In the “Coaching” Days.
An amusing story is told of the coach
which used to run between Edinburgh
Origin of Yankee Pronunciation.
It was these historic Suffolk families
who in the seventeenth century took
over with them to America the pecul-
far Suffolk pronunciation out of which
has developed the modern seminasal
Yankee twang.—London Spectator.
Very Sharp,
Teacher—Now, Johnny, if the earth
were empty on the inside, what could
we compare it to? Johnny—A razor,
ma'am. Teacher—A razor? Johnny—
Yes, ma'am; because it would be hol-
low ground.
Fearful Tortures.
Nome years ago | was a’ teacher in
Afghanistan, and during my stay in
that country | was often an unwilling
witness of some horrible exhibitions
of torture. Here is one they use in the
case of women to extract testimony.
It consists in prying off the finger
uriis by means of a small chisel or
braa awl, which Is shoved in slowly.
but firmly, from the finger tip down-
ward under the quick of the nail. which
is then lifted up and out
This is another that | once saw used
in the case of a small child who would
not own up to some petty theft: Sticks
were thrust between Its flugers and
the fingers then squeezed together, so
that the sticks crushed into the bones.
So much for women and children.
Here is a method of eliciting informa-
tion from an unwilling man: The cul
prit Is stripped to the waist, and then
boiling oil is flicked on to his back.
This seldom falls to find the man's
tongue.
The above are the chief forms of
“fahana.,” or torture, for the purpose
of eliciting Information. but it must
be stated that such inflictions as nip
ping of noses, tearing out tongues or
splitting eyeballs do not come under
the heading of “fahana.” they being
punishment» rather than tortures.—
London Standard.
Duchesse and Anarchist.
Upon one occasion the Duchesse
d'Uzes and Louise Michel met at the
bedside of a poor sick woman whom
they were mutually aiding. They met
here frequently for a brief period. The
woman died. Louise Michel, who was
present at the death, wrote to the
duchesse: “Madame—Our poor friend is
dead | have looked among her few
belongings for a souvenir for you.
Here is a small plece of pussementerie
done by her hands. Accept It” A
few days afterward Mme. la Duchesse
@'Uzes, nee Mortemart. went to the
home of Louise Michel. the anarchist
—a bizarre abode at Levallois where
the poor found always both a good
word and a plece of bread—to thank
the “red virgin” for her letter and her
gift. A friendship so was cemented
between the oddly assorted pair that
was later not without result in the
operation of the most gigantic chari.
of the Duchesse d'Uzes—Boulangerism,
~Harper's Bazar,
He Left at Once.
He had been worshiping her for
months, but had never told her, and
she didn't want him to. He had come
often and stayed late—very late—and
she could only sigh and hope. He was
going away the next day on a holiday.
and he thought the last night was the
time to spring the momentous ques-
fon. He kept it to himself, however,
until the last thing. It was 11:80 by
the clock, and it was not a very rapid
clock.
“Miss Mollie,” he said tremulously,
“l am going away tomorrow.”
“Are you?" she said with the thought
lessness of girlhood.
“Yes.” he replied. “Are you sorry?’
“Yes, very sorry,” she murmured.
“l thought you might go away this
evening.”
Then he gazed at the clock wistfully
and said good night.—Loundon Scraps.
The Power of the Whale.
If the whale knew its own power, it
could easily destroy all the machinery
which the art of man could devise for
catching him. It would only be neces-
sary for him to swim on the surface in
a straight line in order to break the
thickest rope, but instead, on being
struck by the harpoon, he obeys a nat-
ural instinct. which, in this instance,
betrays him to his death. Not having
an air bladder, he can sink to the low-
est depths of the ocean. and, wistaking
the harpoon for the teeth of a sword-
fish or a shark, he instantly descends,
this being his manner of freeing him-
self from these enemies, who cannot
bear the pressure of a deep oceun. and
from descending and ascending In
small space be thus puts himself in the
power of the whaler.
The Popinjay.
The origin of the application of? the
term “popinjay” to a dude was as fol-
lows: The popinjay was a figure of a
bird shot at for practice. ‘The jay
was decked with particolored feathers
80 as to resemble a parrot and, being
suspended on a pole, served as a tar
get. He whose ball or arrow brought
down the bird by cutting the string
by which it was hung received the
proud title of Captain Popinjay for the
rest of the day and was escorted home
in triumph.
He Had Not Forgotten.
Artist William M. Chase told a story
of the eccentric Jimmy Whistler. It
was at a dinner party after all the
guests had been seated, when Chase
gently drew Whistler's attention to the
fact that he bad forgotten his tie.
“Forgotten 7’ shrieked Whistler, “Noth-
ing of the kind. Why should I spoil
the effect of a good linen collar, with
excellent lines, by sticking on a foolish
little plece of flimsy lawn?”
And the dinner proceeded.
Unfeeling.
“Bilger eloped with his cook, the un-
feeling wretch!”
“Well, | don't know. Why shouldn't
he if he wanted to?”
“But his wife was just going to give
a dinner party.”— Life.
A Pretty Sure Sign.
Mrs. Hoyle — 1 believe that I am
growing old. Mrs. Boyle—What gives
Fou that idea? Mrs. Hoyle—I am get-
ting so that 1 don't care to go to fe.
perals.—Exchange.
In the philosophy of some men heav-
en is nothing but a place where every-
body will be able to buy cheap and sell
high.—Chicago Record-Herald.
FOR AND ABOUT WOMEN.
DAILY THOUGHT.
Do you wish the world were better ?
Let me tell you what to do :
Set a watch upon your actions,
Keep them always straight and true.
Rid your mind of selfish motives ;
Let your thoughts be clean as dew.
—[Selected.
A vew material on the markets is a
showerproof foulard —a light silk so pre-
pared thas the sudden rainstorms will not
burt is. Isis foretold as a great favorite
for summer clothes, for nothing is so un-
pleasant a= having to carry an ambrella,
and when one cau depend upon her dress
resisting the soaking summer rain is wil!
008 he necessary to vensare forth
for storm. This vew material is shown in
almost every color, castor brown and gray
being especially good. They are arranged
in the regular foulard designs. The idea
is decidedly new, aud in time we expect to
bave every dress material rainproof.
One of the novelties of the season isa
live of linen just inside the revers of a
jacket, which gives ita clean and ness
appearance that nothing else so small
could possibly do. This is really a very
good idea, and one that may be carried ont
in many attractive ways. For instance, if
one’s suit were a plain black and 18 looked
too dark for the season, one mighs easily
add a lissle line of cerise or magoeta, which
would brighten the whole and take away
that mourning look to which so many peo-
ple object. Linen bande are especially
used on suits for girls between 12 and 15
years,
Both voiles and the rough silks, which
will share popularity for early spring wear,
are to be had in charming bordered effects,
A design shat bas been seen in both shese
fabrics isa border of graduated dots in
shadowy effects, deeper tones of material
color. One of the French sample costumes
in a recent consignment was of this order.
It was fashioned with a tunic in shawl
drapery fashion. The square front and
tap prints on the sides fell over a closely
kilted flounce, which bad every appearance
of being an underskirs of full length. The
dotted design, in thie instance ow) gray.
formed the border at the extreme edge of
both skirt and tunic Usually the under-
skirt is of the plain material and the
border design reserved for tunic, and in
general this order of things is more effect.
ive. However, the bodice was draped
across the border of dots, so arranged as to
form a straight yoke with a tiny V-sbaped
insetting of lace and a lace stock. The
top portion and cuffs of the sleeves were of
the dotted goods.
It ie really quite remarkable to note the
number of dainty artiolés that can be
fashioned from handkerchiefs, both large
and small. The bacdana is capable of
oreating the larger articles, and the smaller
ones can he made from the regular smaller
size of the dainsier variety.
Three large bandana handkerchiefs,
which mass be really large, in fact twenty-
8ix inches square, as nothing smaller will
do, are required for the jumper apron. For
the jumper portion cnt ont a ciroular piece
thirty inches in circumference, and hem
the edges carefully, using the piece cut ons
for the pocket. Fold vne dkerchief
through the centre and out in ball, cutting
a portion from each balf to be used for the
band. Join the larger pieces together
gather, and attach to the hemmed edge of.
the remaining handkerchief to form a raffle.
Gather the Spper edge of the apron and
adjust to band. The jumper section is
fastened to the apron, with one poins over-
lapping the belt in front, and the back is
pinned to position with the bels, after is is
slipped over the bead.
Five sixteen inch bandkerchiefs are util-
ized for hig pretty garment. To make is,
lay four kerchiefs together to forma
tquare, and stitch or overbavd three of
them together, leaving the edges free for a
espace of two inches toward the centre.
This is for the neck edge and will allow
for the corners to be tuned hack. Now
attach one end of the remaining handker-
chiefs to one of the free edges which you
have lefs open. The five handkerchiefs are
now attached. The middle one forms she
back of the jacket, and will fall in a point
below the waist line. The ones on either
vide of the back, are simply 1acked together
at the lower edge of the joining to form the
sleeve effect, and the front just meets, or
laps a lisile according to individual taste.
For the infant's cap a bavdkerchief of
very fine quality, having an embroidered
edge, and two and one hall yards of inch
wide ribbon are required. Fold the band-
kerchief straight through the centre, then
fold is once the other way, making is
Sua an one-quarter the original size.
This will leave one edge, showing two
folds ; begin at the corner, and overhand
the two folds together fora distance of
three one half inches, fasten securely
sod turn right side ous. Fold back the
corners, lift up oue of the long edges for
the head portion, and tack to position with
the turned back edges. Gather slightly
across the lower edge of back. Fasten
bows of ribbon on the sides, and as she
lower edge to tie under the chin, and you
will bave an exceedingly dainty and
practical cap.
As a mode of trimming, some of the
Adiation effects are Schisvcd with these
smal es. They make the prettiest of
flounces for fine underwear, the plain
hemmed or scalloped edges being used as
preferred, and shaped in varions ways.
There is no season of the year when one
oan be eo beautifully dressed at such a
reasonable cost as in the summer. Dainty
organdies, swiss novelties, lawn, dimi
pritsted madras and ginghams may be
n lovely shades and designs. Nothing is
more suitable for warm weather either for
shirt waists %0 be worn with heavy linen or
cloth skirie, or for whole dresses.
ering
they will look like new
oult one to acquire, as
needed than the a
—It is a mistake to overfeed or under
feed.
~The late peas should be planted a
80 that shey will stand the dry spells per:
ter.
—Some farmers apply common salt to
their radish patches, and claim that they
bave fewer wormy radishes.
—Don’t be discouraged if you cannot
make your farmiog experiences measure
up to she institute lectarer’s “‘dreams.”’
—A New Jersey farmer cays that
og wood will be made easier and with
progress, if she casting is done most-
ly with the inside corner of the ax.
—The most unfortunate man on earth is
the farmer who fails in every thing he
aoderrakes, yet holds perristently to the
belief shat his own methods are best.
—The careless, indiflerent farmer whose
products are marketed in a filthy, unastrao-
tive condition is in a hopeless minority,
aud coght 10 conse over on the side of de-
ocency, or quit the farm.
—I% bas been found that poultry with
deep angular breasts bave to he fed longer
to make them lock well, and will, there-
fore, eas a great deal more feed shan the
one with a plump breast bone.
—Economy 18 the necessary outgrowth
of dull, unprofitable times. Avoid waste.
Tarn useless products to acconus. For-
tanes have been made by finding markets
for by-producse on the farm, once regarded
as useless.
—The bull should be fed good, nourish-
ing food, bus not of a fattening nature.
There should be some sors of roughage
along with the corn, oats or bran he e
He should be thrifsy, bus not fat; active,
but nos sluggish.
Profesvor Gilbert, of the Canada Station,
says she best way to get heifer calves is
to bave an old, slow ball—the slower the
better—with plenty of work to do; if balls
should be kept, and care should be taken
not to overwork them.
—Oune good hired man, who will treat a
horse as a gentleman and a cow asa lady,
aod bonestly devote himself to his em-
ployer’s interest, is worth swo of the other
sort. This is the time to hire such 2 man
for the coming year and then keep him.
—A medium loamy soil is preferred for
beets, but the vegetables can be grown
under a great variety of conditions, light
soil being good for the early crop, while a
soil thas is positively wet will give as good
resulte as could be expected of any roos
orop.
—I¢ must not be forgotten that the ma-
pure from the herd is an important item in
counting the profits. It bas a money value
that can be realized by using it on the
laud, and itis worth the moet she way
is is uoed. If allowed to become ex-
to wind and weather, it will soon
ose in value.
~—J ust as #000 as any crop of vegetables
is finished in the garden spade the location,
aod if any seeds are in the soi! many of
them will spront. If so, go over is again,
which will save much time and labor in
the spring. Late summer and fall is the
proper time to clean a garden, especially if
weed seeds are to be gotten rid of,
—Another good plant for background is
the Giant Spider flower or Cleomene Puu-
gens. This is a persistent bloomer and ite
long spikey heade of pinkish purple and
its deeply ont foliage are extremely showy,
either planted in masses or as individoal
specimens in the border. This is an an-
ual and can be easily raised from seed.
~—Beets are handy and are not injured
by cool weather. The tender varieties for
the table are luxuries if grown rapidly and
used before they become large and woody.
The seed is sometimes slow in germina-
tion, bus all vacant spaces in the rows may
be filled in hy transplanting the plants
that are growing together too thickly.
—The Cornell station, after experiment.
iog for several years, found thas potatoes
dug the last week of September or the first
two of October will keep much bester than
those dug when the vines die. The only
objection to this method is the possibility
of she insects and grubs in the ground de-
stroying the tabers if they are left in the
ground too long.
—A good plant for growing in the back
of a bed is the Nicotiana Sylvestais, which
is perbaps less well known than some of
the other to I's snowy white
blooms stay open all day and is bas big
tropical leaves that are effective against a
fence. With an edging of oolored plants
such as ageratume or scarlet Phlox Drum.
mondi is gives a charming color effecs.
—Plan to give the boy and the girla
chance thie year. Set apart an acre for the
boy to work for himsel! and les him bave
the proceeds he can make from is for his
own. Start the girl with a stiawbenty
patoh or a flock of chickens and let ber
have the money she can make out of the
business, and see what a difference is will
make in the energy, industry and cheer-
fulness of the youngsters. Try it.
—Here it a rule that will generally hold
good in setting the time for planting in
the North. Isis worth ousting out and
saving; When the peach tree is in bloom,
sow peas, spinach, lettuce, corn, salad,
onion sets, asparagus roots. When the
pear tree blooms, plant all of the above,
as well as radish, celery, carrot, beet, mus-
oh Lr at
oa parsnip. e e
bloome, plant all of the above aisy.
beajas, Siw, oncumbers, melons, pumpkin
a.
—Many a man is bly under she im-
that the milk, as he is in the hab-
i, of serving is, is clean; but
there are times, and a great mony of them
at thas, when he is ly mistaken. Asa
test put some milk in ove of your cans snd
put she id on hs. Place OAD Dear a
stove and it to a temperature
whioh will juss about allow you to put
your hand 10 is. Pull the lid off and inte
the vapor will soon let you know
whether Boies Mowe Bo or nos.
nde acre; yield un acre. 7.63
pon ~ io 13.38 tous, gain by use
of nitrate,5 75 tons; per cent. of gain, 75.4;