& Bellefonte, Pa., May 13, 1910. SE ————————————————————————————————— STEALING THE STYLES. The object of the modern millinery pirate is by some means to get hold of the uew fashions well in advance of the coming season, and however jealously guarded the new waodels are, she—most pirates are women-—very often succeeds, and the real owner bas the mortification of seeing his novelty anticipated by some tirm of infinitely less importance than his own Last spring the proprietor of one of the smartest shops in the west end of London noticed a lady walking in the park attired in u dress almost an ex act copy of a brand new model of his own, a model which not half a dozen people had seen besides its inventor and himself. The design bad been reg istered, but the copy was just suili clently altered to steer clear of leg:ui difficulties. A most searching inquiry revealed the fact that the culprit was a lady who had always been considered one of the firm's smartest and best custom ers, Her birth and position were less im peachable than the state of ber finances, and she had accepted the offer of a Berlin firm to dress her on condition that she supplied it with the very latest creations that found their way from Paris to London. Having the entree of the innermost sanctum of the London firm referred to, she had taken advantage of its con fidence in her to draw its designs from memory and post them to Berlin. The London firm bad no legal rem edy whatever. All it could do wax when the autumn styles were due and the lady called again to inform her that her patronage wax no longer de sired. Another lady detected in a similar trick by the manager of a Regent street firm was very cleverly punished Upon her next visit she was received with the same cordiality ‘as ever and taken into the showroom, where the latest models were usually displayed She never suspected until tov late that the room had been specially ar ranged for her reception. The models exhibited were anything but uew, anlJ the too smart firm which employed her was put to vast expense to work u: dresses from patterns resurrected tron those of years before which proved absolutely unsalable. It is by no means exclusively for the purpose of stealing other people’s orig- inal designs that “pushing” firms eb list the services of well dressed re cruits. Last summer a lady arrived at « smart seaside hotel, the sort of place where people stay for the whole sea son. She was preny, smart and per | fectly tured out—so well dressed. 1. | fact. that other women. filled will envy. did their best to find out whe wos her dressmaker But. though she frequently boasted that the people were perfect treasures | and that her bills amounted to nest to nothing. she steadfastly refused todis- close the name. One day. however, she accidentall; dropped an envelope Inclosing a bil! from the mysterious dressmaker, a bill artfully “faked” so ax to show prices of startling cheapness. Within a weel: the firm that employed this clever lady welcomed a dozen new customers. Hotels, too, find the lady tout mos! useful. Last autumn a very pret” girl arrived at a certain Scotch health resort establishment with ber mother She was smart, well dressed, a clever musician—just the sort of girl to Le thoroughly popular with both sexes At once she became the center of n large coterie of admirers. Then after a few days her vivaclou: | expression gave place to a look of un utterable boredom. “I can’t stand this place. It's so deadly dull” she said over and over again. Finally one evening she announced that she could pot endure it an hour longer. She was going. “Where? was the question. “Back to Blitherington.” was the d¢- «cided answer. “It may be a little dearer, but you get your money's worth there. One has such a good time there! Next day she left, and before the ‘week was out a large propertion of her friends had followed her.—London Grand Magazine. A Fine Mixup. “What do you mean by this, sir?" de- -manded the angry advertiser. * “What's the matter?” inquired the of the paper. “This advertisement of ‘our delicious canned meats from the best colonial houses’—you've made it read ‘horses.’ ~London Tit-Bits. Cynical. “Do you think there is really any such thing as platonic love?” “Yes. It exists between most hus- bands and their wives." Chicago Rec ord-Herald. Joyful. “I ghould like some rather joyful hosiery,” said the slangy young man. “Yes, sir. How about a check?” said the brisk haberdasher. thinking of what always brought most joy to him. self. —Buffalo Express. His Closeness. Visitor—I saw your husband in the crowd downtown today. In fact, he was so close that I could have touched him. Hostess—That's strange. At home he is so close that nobody can touch him.—-Puck. Experience joined with common | sense to mortals is a providence.— A Nice Old Chicago Lady Who Was a Baseball “Fan.” 1 remember being on a Chicago street car, says Ellis Parker Butler in Suc- cess Magazine, sitting beside a nice old lady in mourning a year or so ago. She was nervous and kept glancing at me and then glancing away again. It made me uncomfortable. 1 thought she took me for a pickpocket or some other bad man. Finally she could con- tain herself no longer. She leaned over. “Excuse me,” she said, “but have you heard yet how the Cubs’ game came out?” 1 hadn't, and her face fell, but in a moment she saw a possible opportunity for consolation. “Well,” she asked, “can you tell me who they are putting in the box to- day? How was that for a gray haired grandma? In Chicago they all talk baseball from the cradle to the grave. Up to 3 o'clock in the afternoun during the baseball season no one taiks about any- thing but the game of the day before, From 3 o'clock on the only subject is the game that is being played. The school child who cannot add two ap- ples plus three apples and make It five apples with any certainty of cor rectness can figure out the standing of the Chicago nines with one han. and a pencil that will make a mark only when it is held straight up and down. A Story a Painter Told About the Artist Constable. A well known New York painter tol! at a luncheon a story about art crit cism. “All art criticism is tolerable,” bh: sald, “except that which is insincere The great Constable at a varnishi. t day at the Roya! academy paused Le fore A's picture and said: “ ‘Very good, especially the sky. The sky is superb.’ “Then he passed on to B and said: “A's picture is very bad. Go look at it. The sky is like putty.’ “So B went and looked and then cx claimed as !° to himself: “ ‘Why, I like the sky! “ ‘Well,’ cried A, the painter of the picture, ‘why shouldn't you like my sky?” “‘But Constable said it was like putty,’ B explained confusedly. “So A in a furious rage strode up to Constable and shouted: “ ‘Constable, you're a humbug. I never asked for your opinion about my picture, yet you came to me and praised it. You said that especially you liked cy sky. Then at once you go off and tell some one else that my sky is like putty.’ “Constable listened, with a smile He was not at all confused. “My dea: fellow, you don't under stand,’ he said; ‘1 like putty.’ "—Lor Angeles Times. A Fresh Start. A girl came in and sat in front of | A —— _— i aaaieB nits Plagutebtve Sapttiv Was Training. In an article on baseball training | camps Hugh 8. Fullerton. in the | American Magazine. recounts the fol lowing joke played on “Cap” Anson. the leader of the famous old \White Stockings, during a training