"Bellefonte, Pa., October 23, 1908.
IT SEEM TO You
It seems to me 1'd like to go
Where bells don’t ring nor whistles blow;
Where clocks don": strike, and gongs don't
sound,
And I'd have ztillness al! around—
Not real still stillness, but just toe trees’
Low whisperings, or the hum of bees,
Or brooks’ faint babbling over stones
Ir strangely, softly tavgled jones,
Or maybe a cricket or ketydid,
Or the songs of birds io the hedges hid,
Or just some such sweet scunds as these
To fill a tired heert with ease,
If ‘twereut’ for sight and sound and smell
I'd like the city pretty well;
But when it comes to getting rest
1 like the country lots the best.
Sometimes it seems to me | must
Just quit the csty’s din and dust,
And get out where the sky is blue;
And say, how does it seem to you?
— [Eugene Fieid.
THE LIFESAVERS.
“Who-o-oh!
Who-o-0-0b!”’
Rising faintly above the roar of the surf
and the how! of the wind, came the Jow,
hoarse moan of a steamboat siren. The
three children, their faces pressed close to
the window, listened intently while their
eager eyes tried to pierce the darkness that
had settled down over angry Lake Michi-
Who-o-0-0h! Who o-0-0h!
gan.
“Did youn bear thai?’ whispered Damp-
ty.
“Js it the hoat?”’ asked Twaddle, ber
eyes lighting up with expectation.
“Sounded like — Listen!" said Twiddle,
interrupting himself.
“Who-o-oh!”’ Again came the hoarse
moan from out of the distance. The chil-
dren strained their ears to catch it, but a
fierce, abrupt gost of wind shook the house
and drowned out all other sounds.
The children shrank back from the win-
dow in dismay as the violence of the storu.
They bad spent the whole long summer
beside changeable Lake Michigan, but
never had they seen it rage under the lash-
ing of such a gale as this. The uproar
created by wind and wave would have been
terrifying enough had Father and Mother
been there to inspire courage with their
comforting presence; but with Father and
Mother miles away—perbaps at that very
minute out on the tossing deep—it was no
wonder the children felt their hearts go
down, down, down!
That morning when Mr. and Mrs. Drum-
mond had sailed away on the lake steamer
Prudence for a few hours’ shopping in the
oity up she shore, the great lake bad rip:
pled harmlessly in the san. Then lower-
ing clouds bad blotted cat the sunlight,
and a sudden September hurricane had
come up out of the west with startling
abraptness. The dancing waves had
mounted inty mighto foamoeapped billows
and the gentle surf bad turned into a roar-
ing monster that orashed thunderously
upon the beach and stretched forth raven-
ously as if to swallow all withio its reach.
Night had fallen and still the Prudence
had nok appeared on its homeward trip,
atshough is was due to poke its nose around
the point at four o'clock. Even a Chicago
liner would have had trouble in that awful
sea, and the children hoped fervently that
Captain Alber had kept the Prudence safe
in port.
ev came the moan of the whisiie. It
told them what they feared —-that the Pru-
dence was out in the storm!
“That is the boat!” deolared Twiddie.
“Who o-ob! Who-0-oh! Who-0 0h! Who-
o-oh!”’ Once more the siren sounded above
the racket of the storm.
“Four blasts. That's the signal of dis-
tress!"’ exclaimed Dumpty.
“Look! Look!" shricked Twaddle, almost
going through the window in her excite-
ment.
Dumpty and Twiddle gave a sharp gasp.
The sky to the north, which a moment be-
fore had been a vacant black, was now
lighted by a blood-red glare.
“It ’s a fire!” shouted Dumpty.
“Mayhe the boat,” echoed Twiddle.
“Who o-oh! Who-o oi! Who-o-ob! Who-
o-oh!"’ wailed the siren as if in answer.
“I 'm going to =ee,’’ declared Dumpty,
takiog the leadership by right of his two
years superiority over the ten-years-old
twine. ‘‘Come on to the lookont.
The lookout was a tall pine-tree ou top
of a near-by-sand-dune. High up in the
branches was a platform from which they
could see across the point and far up and
down the lake. The path up the dune
was diffienlt even in the daytime, but now
in the dark, with the hurricane lashing the
trees and undergrowth, the children found
it strewn with unfamiliar obstacles and
ahilling fears of vague, unknown dangers.
Near the top was an open stretch of
sand. Here the gale caught them with
such a fury they had to drop to their hands |
and koees, and creep across to the foot of
the pine.
“Stay here, while I climb,” ordered
Dampty, and the trembling twins obeyed.
The tree, exposed to the full foroe of the
hurricane, swayed to and fro, its branches
thrashing about furiously. Had Dampty
been less brave or less strong, he would
have given up the perilons climb at the
start. He could scarcely oling to the shak-
ing trunk. The wind beat and tore at
him. The boughe slapped viciously in his
face. Only the fear he had for the safety
of the boas kept him going upward. Inch
by inch he mounted higher. Finally his
head bumped sharply against the platform.
Dumpty swung himself over the edge, and
his eyes turned rly toward the north.
Ab, there it was! The boat!
“What is it?” shrilled Twiddle and
Twaddle from the darkuess below.
“The boat!"’ shouted back Dumpty.
“Is it on fire?’ oried the twins.
Dumpty looked sharply. The boat was | man
nearly two miies to the north, yet the red
glow revealed it play. No! It was n't
on fire! Still, the light came from it!
Dompty was puzzled. The red flare
looked like—yee, it was red fire such
as be often ueed oo the Fourth of July.
Could the boat be oelebrating! And why
waa it so close in shore? Is shonld have
Jes far out to keep off the dangerous shal-
we.
Then there flashed into Dumpty’s mind
the meaning of it all. The hoat was al-
ready in the shallows! The red light was a
sigoal of distress. Now he remembered
having once been told that a red light on
the water was a harry-call to the life-
savers—an alarm as sharp and empbatio as
that which sends a fire department rush:
ag pel mall down a city street!
ut would the life-savers see it? Dump-
ty’s heart grew suddenly heavy as the
ht came to him. The boat was four
miles from the life-saving station. Between
them wes the high wooded point and a
ourve iu the coast. The chances were that
the life-savers would not vosice the sig-
“Who o-oh! Who ooh! Who-0-0h!”’
Who-o0-oh!”’ came the boat's moaning cry
for aid. Tha: call decided Dumpty. He
and the twine must carry the alarm to the
life-saving station, carry it through the
storm and night, carry it swiftly and with-
out a halt. Another instants he was sliding
and bumping hix way to tbe ground. He
landed in a beap almost on top of the
frightened twins.
““The hoat's ashore in the shallows! We
must fetoh the life savers! Come on!"
shouted Dumpty, racing ahead of them
down the path. As the bottom he paused.
| Which way should they go?—By the beach
| or through the woods?
| The road through the woods was shorter, |
| bus it held many fears for the ohildren. |
| Onoe, in traveling is, they had seen a gang |
| of tramp bersy pickers encamped beside a
| stream. Another time they had met three
| ragged Ludians right where the forest was
darkest. Althongh they knew that many
*‘tame’’ Postawatomies lived peacefully on
farms around about, they dreaded another |
{ meeting. |
| “Let's go by the beach,’’ nrged Twiddle, |
“Yes! Ye+!"” chimed in Twaddle. |
Dumpty started toward the beach. Then |
Ihe thought of the deep sands. Travel
| through them would be slow. The road, |
! on the contrary, was firm, and they could !
| wo fast. Delay might mean death to the
| persons on the boat. Bravely crushing
| down his fears, Dumpty made his decision.
i “We moss take the road,” he eaid. He
! led the way up the path toward the high-
| way, and
| They started on & ran, but soon Twaddle
| was panting painfully.
“Oh, I can’t go so fast,’ she gasped.
*‘We ought to save our wind,” declared
Twiddle, mindful of a lesson he had learn-
ed in watching high-school runners train.
Dampty clowed up, and they halt walked,
balf ran. As the top of the bluff, the path
turned into the road. The bard gravel
gave the children a firm foothold, and the
gale behind helped to carry them along
rapidly. It was very dark but they could
just see where they were going.
Soon a black mass seemed to loom up
all around them, and they felt the force of
the wind lessen. They knew they were in
the woods. The children grasped each
other's hands, and went on faster than
ever. Twaddle was getting tired, but the
boys, one on each side, helped to pull ber
along. Up a little hill shey went, down
into a valley, and then around a bend.
What they saw there brought them to an
abrupt halt.
In a little hollow beside the road, a
camp fire was blazing brightly. Behind it
were two large covered wagons. Around
it were grouped seven or eight dark fig-
ures.
“Gipsies!"’ whispered Twiddle.
“Oh, les 's ran!” exclaimed Twaddle,
pulling back.
“No!” whispered Dumpty, getting a
firmer grasp on ber band. ‘We must
creep past them!”
“I 'm afraid!’’ sobbed Twaddle.
“It 's blowing so, they can’t hear us,”
said Twiddle reassuriogly. .
*“We must get help for the boas. Come
on!" ordered Dumpty.
All the children were trembling with
fear. Bat courage does not consist in not
being fed. It consists in going ahead in
gpite of fear—and Dumpty, Twiddle, and
waddle went ahead.
Creeping along on the opposite side of
the road, and crouching down low, they
made their way past the fire. The gipsies
were busy eating their supper and they
did not glance toward the children. They
were 80 near, however, that their talk and
laughter could be heard plainly. The
children expected any moment to have a
pair of sharp eyes spy them ont.
One pair of eyes did find them. They
had stolen by the camp safely and were
beginning to hurry along again when there
cawe a quick crashing from the ander-
brush. Started, the children broke into a
i run. At the sane instanta dog, barking
fiercely, dashed out into the road. It was
almost at their heels and escape seemed
impossible.
By a flicker of light from the gipsies’ fire,
Twiddle saw a stick in the road. Letting
go Twaddle’s hand, he stooped quickly
aud grasped it. Then he turned and faced
the dog.
The avimal, taken by surprise, stopped
short. It suapped at Twiddle and he
lunged with the elub. The dog dodged,
but almost before Twiddle recovered his
balance, the brute rushed forward again.
Twiddle swung the club, and this time the
dog in terror turned and ran. Twiddle
waited to see no more,but ran after Damp-
ty and Twaddle.
‘The children feared pursuit by the gip-
gies, but there was none, and in a few min-
utes the three, all out of breath, found
themselves clear of the woods. The run
had tired them, and it seemed that they
could never get to the life-saving station,
still more than a mile away. Yet they
pluckily harried on.
Presently, above the roar of the storm,
they heard a low rumble abead of them.
“Listen!” said Dumpty. Twaddle
squeezed his hand closer.
“It 's a wagon,” said Twiddle.
“We 'll stop it,”’ shouted Dumpty, ‘‘and
get the driver to help us!”
The wagon was coming at a rapid rate,
and almost before they knew it, the horses
were sweeping past.
“Stop! Stop! Ob, stop, mister!” yelled
tire children.
“Stop it!" oried Dumpty.
The wagon was traveling so fast that it
was almost u them. The children set
up a shout. The noise of the wagon almost
drowned out their voices, but the driver
heard. He pulled up abruptly.
“What ’s the matter?’’ he asked grufily,
swinging a lantern into the faces of ¢
children as they ran forward.
**Oh, mister, the Prudence is ashore, and
we want to gui the lile-savers,” exclaimed
the children in a chorus.
“Prudence ashore? What?’ asked the
“In the Shallows! Is needs help, quick!"
answered Dumpty.
“We get lile-savers! Climb in!" said the
man, and the children quickly olambered
over the wheels. As the driver swung his
lantern beneath the seas, the light shone on
his face. The children shrank back in the
wagon in quick fear. The man was an
Indian! Before they recovered from the
shock of surprise, the indian wbipped his
horses intoa gallop. Then Dompty jump-
ed forward.
“Ob, you 're going the wrong way!" be
shouted.
*“This way guicker,’’ shouted back the
Indian. Dumpty, f treachery, pre-
pared to leap out. At moment the
horses turned into a side road, and Dump-
ty was hurled to the bottom of the wagon.
the twins staunchly followed. |
When he regained his feet, the wagon was
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“vom Th . Philadelphia Record, October 11, 1908.
“SEEIN’ THINGS AT NIGHT.”
—
out of the woods, aud pulling up iu front
of a farmhouse.
The Indian tossed the rein< to Dumpty,
jumped out, and ran to the door. It was
ned by an old farmer.
“Why, Wampan, what ’s np?" he asked.
“Steamboat ashore! Telephone life-sav-
ers!” answered Wampan shortly, pushing
his way iuto the house.
“The telephone! I had n't thought of
that!’ exclaimed Dampty, soddenly re
lieved.
Quickly the message went over the wires
to the life-saving station, and as quickly
came the answer that the crew was ready
to rush to the rescue.
“An awful nights for a wreck,” declared
the farmer. ‘‘Heaven pity the poor souls
on board. Here, Tom, Jim, Frank, torn
out!” he cried to his sons. ‘We must
help! Load up that wagon with blank:
etal”
Quickly every hed in the house was
stripped, and the cuverings piled in the
wagon. The children could not nnderstand
why, but at least they made a soft cushion.
The men olimed in, too, and Wampan, tak-
ing the reins, turned hack to the highway.
Two lights were rapidly approaching.
“The life-savers!”” shouted the farmer. |
Wampau pulled up, waiting until the two |
teams bearing the life-savers and their ap-
paratus dashed up. “This way!"’ he shont-
ed, driving ahead to the north. The horses
were pushed to a gallop, but to the anxions
children it seemed thas they only crawled.
Presently, bowever, the farmer gave a
shoat.
“There she is!" he cried. The children’
raised ap quickly. They bad reached the
shore drive where the road ran along the
bloff. The lake lay directly beneath. A
mile ahead, lighting up water, earth, and
sky with its fiery signal for help, lay the
Prudence.
“She 's a goner!"” shouted one of the
men. The children, looking in awe at the
terrifying tumult of waters, felt that what
he said was a final sentence. Even as they
looked, the signal sputtered ont, leaving
lake and lard in darkness. Ouly a tiny
masthead light marked the posision of the
steamer. Wampan never drew rein. Ove
false move wonld have sent the wagon
tumbling over the clift, but the Indian,
with the instinot of his race, guided the
horses unerringly. Not until the light
was direotly opposite did he slacken the
pace. Then, turning into a steep lane ron-
ning down the side of the bluff, he led the |
way to the heach. Without wasting a mo- |
ment, the life-savers began to set up their |
apparatus, the farmers helping them. |
Wampan turned to the children. !
“We make fire,”’ he cried. The children,
only too eager to help, picked up such
pieces of driftwood as they could find by |
the light of the lanterns. With this wood
and straw from his wagon, Wampan built
up a bonfire. Over iv he threw the oil
from his lantern, and a match set it all |
ablaze.
As it flared np, the rushing wind brought
the faiut sound of a cheer. The people on
the boat had seen the fire and kvew that
help was at band. An instant later a sig |
pal-light flashed out on the steamer. i
The brilliant glare disclosed a scene that
almost froze the blood of the children. Oat
in the midst of huge waves that crashed
against it and swept over it, lay tbe batter-
ed wreck of the Prudence. All about it,
and cutting off the way to the shore were
great masses of water, rolling, tumbling,
surging, breaking, rushing, and beaving.
The boat was already going to pieces, Her
funnel bad been carried away. Her upper
works were nearly gone. Her life-boats
bad di ed. The waves broke and
beat upon the wreck in spiteful anger,
seeming to snatch viciously at the small
up gathered around the foremast. The
signal-light tinged the whole picture with
a blood-red glare that added to the terror
of the sight.
The steamer seemed beyond all human
belp. No life-boat could live a minnte in
the angry surl. A swimmer would be
mercilessly battered to death. The awful
power of the angry deep had been un-
oosened, and what could men do before i?
The children sobbed aloud as they looked
upon the doomed boas. Would they aver
again see their father and mother alive ?
Almost hopelessly they turned toward the
life-savers.
The brave men in oilskins were working
with a feverish enesgy. Some were deftly
arranging lines and rigging. were
aiming a small cannon toward the boat.
“Oh what are they going to de ?"’ oried
Twaddle.
“Shoot out a life-line,’’ answered Dump-
{ Try
nse ——
breeches buoy,’ shouted Twiddle, jumping
up and down in excitement.
“It's the only ohance.’’ declared the old
farmer, shaking his head.
“Ready !"' cried the life-savers’ captain ;
and then, “Fire !
“Boom I"! went the cannan, startling the
children so that they lost sight of the flying
line. A sharp exclamation from the cap-
tain told the resale.
“Missed !"" he cried. ‘‘Load again !"
“‘You'll never get a line out there against
this hurricane !'’ cried the old farmer,
“Oh-olioh 1" wailed Twaddle. The
boys juss gripped her hands hard, and
watched the life-savers.
came the order to fire. A second roar, and
the line went flying out in the face of the
wind. Straigbs for the boat it sped, then
the wind ocanght it and baorled iv back, |
fitty feet short of its mark.
“She'll go to pieces before we get a line
to her,” said a life-saver.
Suddenly Twaddle dropped on her knees
in the sand and, raising ber bands to the |
farmer, aid :
“Ob, don’ give up, please. Try again !
again !"’
Just then there came a momentary lull
in the hurricane. The cannon was ready.
“Boom !"’ it roared. Strong and swilt
| sped the line out into the lake. Right over
the boat it shot, and then, as the weight
plunged into the waves, it fell across the
deck.
A cheer came from the steamer. The
children danced about in their joy. The
lite savers quickly tied the shore end of the
live to a heavier rope. The men on the
boat hauled this out, and then by means of
it pulled throngh the waves a Hype cable,
a block and tackle, and two smaller lines.
Meantime several of the life-savers ses up
on the beach a frame vork consisting of two
large timbers crossed. It was intended to
support the shore end of the cable.
Soon the drag upon the heavy rope
ceased. A moment later a signal showed
that it had been made fast to the mast.
' The life-savers hauled it taut, and guickly
adjusted the breeches-buoy. This, true to
ite name, looked like nothing else than a
large pair of leather trousers suspended
from a sort of pulley that ran along the
cahle. It was pulled back and forth by
means of the smaller lines.
Hauling away lustily, the life savers
sent the buoy dancing ous over the waves.
The children watched it with intent eyes.
That small leather pouch, thrashing about
in the gale as though it were a sheet on a
elothes-line, carried the only hope of res-
cue to the people on the wrecked steamer.
If it did its work well, they would oross
death-dealing waters back to life aud
safety. If it failed—the children shudder-
ed to think what would happen il is failed.
Swiftly the buoy ran out to the boat.
There was a moment's pavse as the sailors
fastened some one into the breeches.
Another signal followed.
“Hau! away !”” commanded the life-sav-
ing captain. The eager life-savers and the
belping farmers pulled with a will, and
the loaded buoy, swinging over the side of
the steamer, started on its perilous trip
across the surging billows.
The cable sagged under the weight, and
the angry waves, leaping up like huogry
dogs, almost caught the buoy and ite liv-
ing burden. Nearer and nearer they surg-
ed as the buoy advanced. The obildren
held their breaths fearing that any mo-
ment the lake might seize its prey. As
they watched, the steamer suddenly rolled
toward shore, slacking the cable. Down
plunged the huoy into the waves and be-
neath them! The children screamed in
horror ! They thought all was lost. Bat
no! The boat rolled back ; the cable
grew taut ; the buoy swished up from the
water, and ite precious burden bounded
high above the fate that yawned below.
Again aud agein the waves grasped at
the buoy, but the strong pull snatched it
quickly from their slippery clutches. Soon
ir was singing over the outer edges of the
thundering surf.
“It’s a woman !”’ shouted Dumpty.
*Is it Mama?’ oried Twaddle, running
close to the water.
“She has a little girl !"’ declared sharp-
eyed Twiddle.
Rushing in from the lake was a monster
wave. e cable sagged, and the wave
caught the buoy in its mighty grasp. But
it was too late. The captain, wading into
the surf, caught the woman and ohild in
his outstretohed arms and landed thew
safe on shore.
The beach fire flared up, shining on the
white, tense face of the woman.
“Mama !"” shricked Twiddle running
ty, quick hope following on his fears.
“Ob, and bring them achore in the
forward and throwing her arme around the
LO Bo WI
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By De Ma-
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woman as the men lifted her from
huooy.
“Mama! Mama !" shouted Dampty and
Twiddle.
“My children! My darlings!" cried
their mother, clasping them to her.
“Thank God, for aparing me to you ?"’
“Mama ! Mama ! Mama !"”” was all they
could say.
‘‘Get them to the fire, quick !"’ ordered
the life-eaving captain. The Indian and
farmers, lifting both Mrs. Drammond and
the little girl, carried them to the fire.
There they wrapped them in blankets.
Now the ohildren understood why the heds
the
{ had heen stripped. The little girl was
Again the cannon was aimed, and again |
erying aud sobbing.
The buoy was again swinging through
the =:;ef. This time it held a woman and
a baby.
“Mama !'"’ cried Margares. And it was.
The next trip of the buoy brought Mar-
garet’s father and little brother. Then
| followed another passenger.
“Work fast,”’ Dumpty heard him say as
he was helped from the bnoy. ‘‘The boat
is breaking up.”
The boat breaking up! With father
still on hoard ! Oh, would bis tarn come
in time? Anxiously Dumpty watched the
buoy go out into the darkness. Still more
anxiously he awaited its return. It came,
bus still without Father. Again and again
it made the trip, brivging all the paesen-
gers and even a member of the crew, bat
not Father. Each time Dumpty’s heart
sauk deeper.
On the next trip of the buoy, the boat
rolled toward the shore slacking the cable
It failed to roll back as far as before, and
the buoy plunged again and again into the
water. The life savers pulled desperately,
but fass as they worked, the man in the
buoy was almost unconsocions when they
dragged him throngh the surf.
“Papa!” screamed dumpty, who was
nearest,
‘‘My little ones!” he whispered and
gathered them in his arms.
But the work of rescne was not yet com-
plete. Five men were still on the doomed
hoat. The lile-savers, hurrying to save
them, raced with death. One man came,
then another, and a third.
“She's going to pieces! The captain
and mate are still aboard I’ the third man
ped.
Out went the hunoy on a run. It reach
ed the boat and started back. Quickly the
life-savers hau’..i and hauled. Barely had
the captain and mate reached shore when
suddenly the cable sagged heavily.
“There goes the mast !"’ shouted a res.
cued sailor. The children looked out.
The masthead light which had continued
to hurn steadily all the time, had sadden-
ly lurched far over aud then plunged
down, down, into the darkness! The ca-
ble dropped uselessly into the water.
“The boat’s gone !"’ cried one of the
crew.
Yes, hut every one on hoard had been
rescued !
“It wae the children who gave the warn-
ing. You owe your lives to them !”’ eaid
the captain of the life.savers.—By Arthar
W. Stace, in St. Nicholas.
An Antique Finish,
The most important point, in giving gold
and silver articles an old, worn appearance
i8 to expose them to abrasion. ey may
be shaken up with some nails in a suitable
container the gold goods placed in dilated
sulphide of ammonia, the brown spots that
ocour polished with epiris of sal ammoniao
and powered pumice and high places rab-
bed bright with Turkey leather. Finally,
dilate printer's ink with oil of turpentine
and apply the mixture with a brush so that
it settles in the hollow. The whole must
now be cleansed again, eo that not all the
black substance and Spote will be removed.
When silver articles that are gilded are to
look like fire-gilded objects they must be
carefully scratoh-brushed before the electro-
gilding, then touch them with the fingers,
previously sm with wax dissolved in
turpentine, that the high places, at least in
Jant are rendered non sensitive to the gild-
ng
They are then heavily electroplated: the
articles are then placed for a few minutes
in pitrio acid diluted with water, whereby
the high, poorly gilded spots are attacked
and the silver showing underneath is etoh-
ed a dark color, then treat these articles as
previously described in the case of gold. —
Werkstatt.
~~ He-—I suppose you thought it stupid
of me to make such a silly remark ?
heh no ; I thought it only natur-
al.
Costumes and Suggestions
for the Halloween Party,
Have you made any plaos for Halloween
yet, girls? [suppose some of you bave—
there are always forebanded maidens who
bave oil in their lamps loug before the day
bas begun to think of getting dark. Bus
there are plenty of the other kind, and,
perhaps, they wou’t mind talking over
their ideas for the celebration of All Hal-
lows’ Eve.
Masquerade balls and parties of all de-
scriptions are oftenest got up in compara-
tively simple form, with costumes made of
inexpensive, though effective, materials,
which better suis that sors of affair. Very
few gitls care to put much money io a fan-
cy dress, which, at bess, they will wear not
more than two or three times.
Gorgeous costumes can be rented, rich
colors softened by velvet draperies, the per-
iods and sypes thoughts out by the costam-
er without your trouble. But get away
from trailing skirts, if you're going to
dance, and give the preference to light,
cool costumes, rather than to heavy, band-
some draperies.
Bahy parties come properly under the
| head of masquerades, and are the easiest of
all to get up, even if no costume can be
begued or borrowed for the occasion. For
everything for babies is made on straight
lines,
Gypsies wear gay skirts—red or yellow
or the brighest of pink, or blue or green—
with velvet bodice or belero, trimmed with
spangles and sequins and colored balls or
| rings ; a soft white bloose and a gay sash,
| and all the jewelry and beads that it is pos-
| sible to put on.
| Colonial maidens are demure-looking in
| lowered robes, made with a round neck,
! abort sleeves aud the inevitable short waist.
Loog mitts, she most pointed of slippers
and a tiny resicule add to the costume,
while powdered hair, piled high, and tiny
black face patches complete it.
Witches get strangely confused with old-
fashioned pictures of Mother Goose, for the
red oioak and tall, peaked black cap are
the same. But on a witoh's dress spiders
and bate, cut out of black cloth, should be
freely applied. They will be shrown into
bold relief by she scarlet background.
A Japanese cossame 1s one of the last-
minute disguises with which a thoughtful
hostess provides herself. There is sure to
be somebody whose costume fails, or whose
coming is a sudden inspiration ; and no one
should be allowed at 8 masquerade to ap-
pear in ordinary evening dress,
A kimona, with a wide sash and plenty
of little Japanese fans to stick through the
elaborately puffed arrangement of the bair
shown in every picture of Japaoese maid-
ens—and your costume is ready to be don-
ned in the shortest imaginable time.
Costuming as characters [rom books gives
a suggestion for a guessing game ; but the
whole party muss be made up of people
fond of books, if is is to be a success.
Fairy tales furnish innumerable sogges-
tions for costuning and characters ; a par-
ticularly preity representation of Cinderel-
la being a girl in a princess gown, touched
for the occasion with little gold ornaments
and trimmioge, which flashed and spark-
led all over it. Over it, as the poor little
cinder girl, she wore a gray domino. With
her was her fairy godmother, dressed as a
fairy, in white tulle and spangles, over
which she wore the traditional cloak,
which took the form of a scarlet domino.
As the godmother she walked beut, upon
a cane, which disa red like magic when
dominoes and masks were dispensed with.
Yet neither girl had got a costume (oth-
er shan the domino) for the dance ; each
bad taken a white evening gown and fixed
is up temporarily with spangles. Cinder-
ella wore her hair in little curls, while the
fairy godmother, when her disgnising bas
was removed, showed a glittering star
worn iv her hair.
“Night’’ has been doue to death, but is
such an easy way of turning a simple dress
into a costume thas is is constantly being
resuscitated. Stars and crescents, out out
of silver paper, should be pasted on a black
dress, with a diaphanoas scarf, almost cov-
ered with smaller stars, as an noportang
adjunct. A oresent should be worn iu the
barr.
“Twilight” is a lovely study in the soft-
est of grays, with rose-colored sash, and
just a few stars widely scattered aronud
the bem of the dress. Aud the four ‘‘sea-
sons’’ can be costumed simply or elaborate-
ly, but always prettily.
Famous pictures and statues and books
which show mediaeval and other costumes
supply endless ideas for costuming. And
“Mother Goose'’ is as inspiring in her way.
Au Irish maiden, in brighs greens, with
sbamrocke for her bouquet and boddice
trimming ; a Scotch lassie, in gay plaid ;
an Indian squaw ; a Dresden shepberdess,
all in soft pale pinks and blues; a rainbow
maiden, witha costume divided into the
seven colors ; Pierrette, in black and white,
or biack and yellow, and the floffiest of
pompons ; Folly, in tine jester’s red and
green ;a sea nymph, in green, with dang-
ling crystal drops ; a French peasant ; a
Greek gitl ; a Turkish woman—any oos-
tue of the list, and a hundred besides,
can be got up in short order.
Cheesecloth and oretonne, gilt and silver
paper, silkoline and sateen—a dozen ma-
terials suggested themselves for the work.
Each is thoroughly satisfactory and de-
lightfally inexpensive. And mosquito net-
ting makes she loveliest of eoarfs !
Unless one is afraid of having too much
for oue evening, it is an excellent idea to
combine what in Varginia they used to call
a “candy stew’ with the Halloween froiia.
In these days of fudge and other quick can-
dies, the good old-fashioned candy pull bas
rather gone out of fashion. It is worth
while to revive it. Tafly may be made as
well as the candy that is pulled, and the
whole affair will be different enough from
the cut-and-dried party of every day to in-
sure its being a sucoess,
If yon don’t want to go into the cavdy-
making business, why do you not have a
obafing-dish frolic for the supper? Sand-
wiches and, perhaps, salad can be prepar-
ed in advance, and the hot part of the sup-
per can be done in ohafing dishes. There
may be three or four of these, each presid-
ed over hy a girl who can make some one
dish ally well. One may undertake
a Welsh rabbit; another, lobster a Ia New-
burg; another, oysters in some form, or
cheese fondu, or oreamed chicken, or
sweetbreads, or that delectable compound
of anchovy paste and white sauce and bard
boiled eggs known as a Scotch woodeock.
The eating will not he more fun than the
vooking, and the informality of the enter-
tainment will be one of its greatest charms.
Try some of these things, girls, and then
let me know how they turn out. All the
other girls would like to hear about it, and
we will get all sorts of good ideas for next
year. Already I have heard of one or two
girls who have started a sorap hook of the
letters on the Each and All page. It would
be a good plan for more of us, and such ad-
ditions as the account of successful enter-
tainments would be valuable for years to
come,
——Subsoribe for the WATCHMAN.