box of chocolates hidden away i bureau drawer; the bnght dining-room; the eee | the hearth: Bellefonte, Pa., March, 24, 1911. | service—ali had transported — land of faries. Not that she had IN THE DAY OF THE HARVEST. did dearly revel in Ye have plowed, ye have sowed. and the harvest As Samuel handed her shail be of its kind: Phoebe had a troubled ‘What ye sowed ve shall gather and grind; would put them away and read t! What ye grind ve shall bake, saith the Lord. and, | next . after the full joy of that first or bitter or sweet, day been taken untroubled. Then, In the days that shall be ye shall eat. C 1 am He that looks over the fence. [see saith the opened the letter hastily. Lord How ye gather the fruits for your board. come, I will come, And the mirth of your feast shall be dumb. ; a made amistake in the to be told Mr. Ames had supplied the | other ighty pes cent, fre Ard r Did ye deem that the Lord was far off? | have | groceries and left saltpetre instead of salt | pulpit. . . . You are coming home? Now, | may linger A a. oh longer pe seen how for gain pork. Jane seems very put out about | mummic, you... . first train in the Fiod Of ime se the hound as God in Ye have dammed up my rivers of grain somet! 1 shouldn't be morning? . . . . At twelve? . . . . Ill meet | OTHIES OSG rive the deer to water and TI the poor in the cities have moaned. 1 have have her give notice before you get heard me the cry As you know, 1 have two funerals That for justice hath come up the sky. morrow, and my headaches. b me to Samuel. I hope you are enjoying | And a patter of feet hath come up through the | yourself thoroughly, and am i roar of your mills, Yours affectionately, ‘Where childhood hath gone to your tills. SEPTIMUS HYD Ye shall be as the hiss of the foam that hath died : on the sand: Phoebe's face brightened a little when Ye shall be no more in the land. she opened Tom's letter. Did ye deem that my wrath was a cloud that had | “Dear MumMMIE.—This was the conver- i this : thundered and gone, sation at breakfast thi Socning Swallowed up in the smile of the dawn? dad, how'd you sleep?’ Pa Clouds return, saith the Lord. Have ye heard. | ‘Streets abominably noisy when I called over France, need new wheels. I should thi How the Terror joined hands in her dance? Sompany.- ‘But, ter, all their new lathe day that ve eat. I will pour ye the wine From bo a an effort to A like mum, ‘Were bi troubled And your towers shall be as a reed in the breath | & t a ng, daddy? vage shove of my might at the When I come, when I come in the night. mouths of the poor, And ye that have poisoned the strength of the children of men, What caverns will cover ye then? rouse up the slave time I couldn't imagine Till he win back the soul that I gave. Ye shall know that my laws they endure. than ity. But pedal eo Fumi i savagely, and he didn’t see Mrs. Pettingill Edwin Davies Schoonmeker. | (oh Collars and cents!). They'll have it in for him. And I wish you could have | seen Se nod he gave Jaks Shen asi i “ get back, mummie, you ve C “Go in peace, mother!” There was a|knots tighter than any lovers’ knots you mischievous look in Tom's eyes as his | ever saw to unite. But don't you come father glowered at him. “Heed no cries | back now, mummie dear. Men are pigs, from ja. So long, mummie!” |and there is nothing that so rapidly | makes pigs as angel mummies. : Yours truly, HER VACATION. When Phoebe reached the corner she turned around and waved a handkerchief at Tom, who was still standing on the front steps looking after her. . Sepuinme Hyde shifted Phoebe’s travel- ling- : “pP. S.—This is to warn you that pas | for it vexed him to think of the | o,,ach liver, spleen, and all the other : “qr magic little orgings of affection are going Phoebe looked up at him. “I'll be | jack on him awful soon this time. coming days with only Tom in the house. home before you know it.” No reply. has counted on it all winter long.” Still no reply. with me, Septimus.” “Phoebe, | told you”—the Reverend | four days ago, an funeral, and the Leavitts’, too; there's the | coffee Tom Sunday, the Adams’ girl to be baptized, and a dozen calls to make.” “But, father, you know in our big church! “No. Call Jane.” there are always things to be done, and| Tom pushed the button. if you waited for nothing to do you would never get away at all. There's the En-| fee! It tastes like mud.” with a bang. campment: you are going to that, father.” | “Pm sure | don’t know, sir,” replied | The dog will not be n A way back to his master, alt ough he may Duty, Phoebe,” snorted the chaplain, | Jane, with considerable dignity. finder heart than with such pronouncement that Phoebe did | made as usual.” not have the courage to suggest what was | The man of God grunted, pushed away in her mind about duty and a vacation | the offending stuff, and began opening with her. his letters. They walked the rest of the way to the | Ton managed a wink to Jane and said station in silence. Once on the platform, | aloud in a grave voice: “It's remarkably Septimus helped her on to the train, | bad, Jane, I'l pour another cup just to bought her a magazine, took a formal ; taste how bad it is when mother doesn’t peck at her wrinkled cheek, and went | bless it.” back on to the platform, where he stood her head, waved her handkerchief, and could see her. world were too few and far between to | were to him. Did he, miss a single instant of their intense joy. to be with each other. The wife sat in| how oe a, I LL Cot DLs or Rose she had; how she took Sebi ae hands on the back of her husband's seat and her chin on her hands much in the | money she had saved and fashion of a Raphae! cherub. They seem- | bill that came to the back door so that ed to be having such a good time, Phoebe | Septimus might not have to worry about it; and how she cried a little, with only t the chocolate cream she had tucked awa stout lady got in, carefully took off her | in the top bureau drawer for com coat, removed her hat, got out a beautiful | Did Septimus know what a wealth of : ) of chocolate precious hat, and tried to put the blue | creams tucked away in the top bureau disease does dra brothers mean Phoebe natured youth in the seat in front of her drawer a Ber did ers time OY debe; was sure they were taking 2 holiday together. At the next station a short blue silk bag into which she popped the | comfort the whole box bag on the rack above her head. A good- rose quickly and deposited the hat on the rack. The lady handed creams her coat, which he started to hang on the | rum there; 1 don’t like it there!” expostulated | heart onder! the stout little lady. Then the obliging 2 hw youth reached Sp and jammed the coat jous, he thought of many down on top of , oh, not on my hat, sir; not on my hat!” there, i i i he's the excited pair gave an im ble ye guffaw. This set off some ol the i give twenty-five.dollars! passengers, and you! confused, Sep made another frantic attempt to put the think so. There was that coat on top of the bagged hat, w the | 1€ Dotbins who had paid stout lady called, “No, no, not on my hat, | sir; not on my hat!” Finally the blue bag .. “Father” — Phoebe's eyes widened— was lifted up and the coat was put under hy a } that was one huiidrod dollats! Phoebe made a note of that bag. She " a must have one for the next journey, al- | And after breakfast Phoebe bear to make so much trouble for any- | gloves, and stand by the window body else. Outside everything whirled | and bobbing till he was out of by in gay delirium while the train thump- on the night of such a day, Phoebe RI | her ian vs kar ed frets © the tune fmm under her breath. Each year t reached home Phoebe seemed more glorious than Te Your he with his Slippers warmed, fore! cocoa, and a By the next evening Phoebe was in the for she knew he would not full swing of vacation delight. Her broth- | Did the time come er's luxurious house; the new black silk ; remembered those days gown and cloak she had in her closet “with “For ; Te dismayed at such disloyal instincts, ger from Tom. “What do I think it is, “My Dear PHoese.—Afte came home t soli And the mills of my patience run down. I will re, 3D Foary not say where toput the washers you had | r yot left 1} house. The | manner, and pouri "ours | to Phoebe. He told her Years ago there lived a man in this part had refused to contribute to the Chil- dren's Aid—every fact of the past four | of the country who would shoot a hound ee-cup. ‘Fill that up, will you? Your mother always gives me a full cup.’ ‘Going out after breakfast, pater? And ve that have drained off the laugh from the | ‘Well, so long, daddy. Hope ter before I get home.” Ain't Ye shall know that my coming is sure. filling your place, mummie? Say, give a | going guess “J took father for a ride on the tandem hin i So Y mo i a t him in ou I will come with a roar, saith the Lord. 1 will pu what made the action so hard, and when I looked around there was pater not pedalling a bit and I will toss with a shout into battle the rich and igh people | then he | spoke to her as to an unreasonable child. Mark Twain's Tribute to His Daughter. | not so military frucice asit i } h just filled toward him. mid-week service tonight, the services on ' He tasted the coffee and set the cup down “Well, pater, don’t you like it?” “Jane, what's the matter with this cof- ! A v i yde cul n hi with his head erect and his shoulders a? HS Hy They 0 bil Je thrown back. As the train moved off, he | coal, for wood, for the plumber, for gro- bowed stiffly three times without a smile, | ceries and meat, for light, for tailoring while Phoebe tapped the glass, bobbed | and carpentry, for dentistry—bills, bills, : 3 . bills! As he opened these envelopes Sep- smiled to the very last instant Septimus | timus’ most bitter thought was that Phoebe gone aw a After that Phoebe began to look about | she a he A ey ti Yea eagerly, for these trips into the great | knew what these first-of-the-month days hat they eH ved what they were to her? How Two seats down on the other side were ndergarmen Deo | a ar Er ane: Io eties when she was still a little girl— prosperity both here and abroad—and she remained | gickness. He will sleep on the cold ground an active member to the last. She found- Sickne the wintry winds blow and the , if only he may be near his master’s side. He will kiss the secretary, | hand that has no food to offer, he will for she fished my correspondence out of | Jick the wounds that come in the encount- and answered the let- | ers with the roughness of the ters. She thought all letters deserved the guards the sleep of his pau er desert he ins. Whenriches take wing and reputation falls to pieces, People strive to make their houses he is as Hk Hislove ae fhe fo Jn i : EF i i ] e—the thou hook by the seat. "No, not there, not | few there ora te—the she tof byw ushed and made anoth- | there, and vet he felt Wet F i § : : 73 : : bn bef ; h i the good old days when a Tom after him soberly, and ond To music drummed his fingers on the chair sim. | Ed, hod there He was not surprised to hear his father | BORE, CP Sound on ho trail. 1 Rg oN ollowing day he was himself at | ume of the hounds is the sost the waiting for stance The hound was created for no other pur- “Hello, mummie, that How are | that of wild it you? Well, that's good! er a bully | ZCH had I vling ~ game. time? He did! Uncle's a brick! ... . No, | tended it otherwi g a 2 not very well. Pater it’s his stomach and liver.” This was followed by a snig- a 5 : : £ = mum? He certainly do look yaller, and he—he can’t live without mummie, | RE 2 . mes of a Tm | LPS 2 Sy “hos vey, pe en serious. I thought it might frighten you | the deer that are killed outright. i Yn en : noon | there at a point-blank-range, by a well- dd WL Rp ih Yet | aimed shot take its life instan something was relaxing his tense feat- i his tongue, and there wasa half-acknowl- edged smile about his mouth. He was every-thing. from | 4 eer must suffer. before her. ron sight. Tt so : i Tom came into the room his | to be a large buck the closet door and took shore. The man saw an down his overcoat. i Father said Pres be: you are not boat he plied the oars oro timus looked around absent-mind- reached the almost exhaus aT ha rE es tas 1 wan was in the prime of Mle, standing i | fed RE if 2% i 2% Es g i : v. ‘rhe torest ‘yond description. Much ot the foliage ‘The | Was on the trees and the leaves present and | ed all the colors of a crazy quilt. The at- y. | You will readily gee th iston ot Goa in not exposing only a vita assy tier. no S683 0,8 ee he sar ¥ ts body is sul under : had his features relaxed. Bue A120 | of the water and there is no possi chance of wounding the animal. prigh couch either missed or killed outright. Every sitting Joh ups it ion thie on his oval hunter that approves of still-hunting and i room usual | the kiiling of the noble hound has no sym- | ings wp and down the out Tin Jus Sous) | pathy for any animal and does not give a | : ht to the excruciating paina wound- deer was swimming across Lake George : : i blowing a gale at the time father was lifting up hischin and straight- The wind wus ) ening his tie. ey that Septimus took the man made the discove Ty 1 | off his dressing-gown and put on his coat; unity to | secure some venison the use of the : | butt end of an oar, so jumpi ! after feeding Nimrod and Sport, our two | hounds, we again climbed the mountain the place where we were 10 watch that presented a grandeur be- was cool and the odor from the | pines and baisams was very invigorating, ' and as | sat there on the mountainside | fully reanzed what a beautiful world we had and wondered at its people's greedi- | ness and seltishness, when true happiness could pe had by following the teachings of the Bible. Suddenly | was startled by | the heavy voice of old Sport, which was | quickly followed by the sharp quick bay of Nimrod. Very soon the two voices were blended into one, as the deer left cover, I shall never forget the music of the voices of these two hounds as they ran over the mountains, and as | listened to their delightful notes, the warm blood went pulsatidg through my whole body. As before the deer had taken water and brown spots brought out fee] surprisingly well. Those tablets the | Over, ix. feet his stocking feet and built |; a1) their splendor by the last rays of the dcr ere er clctue” 20 eae BEC you are going out. | thought you wanted aimed a blow at the buck’s me e Masons will probably be waiting for | me,” and with a peck for her old cheek | his eyes alert for every greeting by the | way.—By Jeannett Mar last thing that Mark Twain wrote—a eath. He says: “ He pushed | language but the German. Jean gave him | curate he is and notice how God has giv- tense—"1 told you there was the Masons’ | the saucer away, and drew the cup of | no orders save in that tongue. And so, | en him an instinct to search for a lost when the burglar-alarm made a fierce | trail by circling about in a short circle clamor at midnight a fortnight ago, the | and how he will stop and sniff the ground butler, who is French and knows no Ger- | to find out if he has the right scent, and | man, tried in vain to interest the dog in | then when he becomes certain, he will try | the su burglar. Jean wrote me, to | to communicate the intelligence to his Bermuda, about the incident. It was the | master by his rapid baying, which his last letter 1 was ever to receive from her | master fully understands and how God bright head and her competent hand. | has given him the knowl “There was never a ki chiar ties of one kind and another. After | may turn against him and became secretary and had her income | enemy; his son or daughter that he has doubled she spent her money Spon Ticse reared with loving care ma things with a free hand. ful. Those nearest an I am glad and grateful to say. gratets from me. She knew all the birds: she member of various humane soci- ed two or three societies for the protec- i Be [ow drives of an answer. Her mother though he were a prince. ! | I 3 i 2g : : § g ; i ° i f 2 i o£ J 3d i i 8 : most i t the "| country, but owing to the t and the most invariably prevent the spread of dis | LL. Lv au the Sth of Sep persistent and the hemorrhages frequent, lm pat, the Sous oo Jnable to a Gaiden } Yi y here that fawns are not all born on the same day or the same month as the fol- lowing will prove. We had no trouble in starting our hounds as it is very easy at Bo fear 10 55 0 9 Sos n any swampy sec- of the Bist questions a physician asks | tion of the Adirondacks, but the trouble when he is to attend a sick person. | was that at the first sound of the hounds’ To keep the bowels open and kasp them voices the doe would hide her fawns and regular is a necessity of th. | then lead the hounds deeper into the wil- Dr. Pierce's t Pellets will keep | derness and at some stream or pond she bowels and liver in a healthy condition, | would take water, in which case the and prevent many a fit of sickness. hound was outwitted, and bra sounds. put pu bout way the doe would joilt het young. ——"That chap really has a lot of vv Skog fr "I know it,” replied Ye or apo 5 we over to- "But the trouble is that he keeps usin’ |morrow’s hunt as we were in em to think up new ways to act foolish.” | starting a buck. While we were ie it She alter we were interrupted by Hie “Briggs reminds me of an encyclo- SHrancs Of a i i Rien peda. on the dogs, 1 can kill a deer before wkoeption ou ——Living on tick is rather a ticklish | any stock in at undertaking. boast. But imagine our surprise | turn to tholiow! tha t ~—=Subscribe for the WATCHMAN. lange g | on the lines of a giant of ancient history, | the deer as! you were sick! Now I've just come and possible, he swung the heavy asl " to the heavy seas and from the force of | Septimus looked blankly at Phoebe. | the blow he missed the deer’s head and he : |“ o ., mother.” Then he there was so much force used that the | goer had been shot and I interviewed the a SO a on he | hunter. He finally said: “Why 1 knew | where these deer were all summer and all | I had to do was to conceal m If before | daylight in the morning, wait until ! they came out to feed. Soon after day- light I saw the doe’s head come out of the woods and I waited until she was quite near, then I drew a bead at her and she fell at the crack of my rifle and the fawn bounded back into the woods. The next morning I concealed myself as before and long before it was | : heard the bleating of the fawn. When it was light enough to be sure of my aim, 1 imitated the call of the doe, and very soon | the fawn came trotting out of the woods and I shot it while it stood looking around | for its mother.” I once knew a little girl five or six years old, a most beautiful child. She was a blond with light golden hair that gently’ waved, but did not curl. Her eyes were blue, large laughing eyes, that would | fairly dance with merriment when she was pleased. She was a bright, sunny child and was loved by all who knew her. Her mother dressed her with care and she wore her hair braided and at the end of | the braid a light blue ribbon was knotted. I have seen her among her playmates with a bag of candy which she would pass to each that they might insert a dirty lit- tle hand and help themselves and her merry peal of laughter could be heard when she was at man was carried overboard. Lu came up near the buck and he hold of its tail. By that time the deer real- and a curt nod for Tom he sallied forth, | ized its danger and concentrating its re- : | maining strength, it swam on and on, his step once more eager and martial,and | i RO Tr ry iong : © | time before it reached the shore and just Baar ks, in Harper's | as its feet would have touched land, the oi man held on to the deer's tail with one i hand and with the other he drew from his ket a jack-knife, which he opened with is teeth, then reaching forward he sev- mr ered the cord above the deer's gambrels In Harper's for January is printed the | which deprived the animal of the use of its hind parts and in its helpless condition touching and beautiful tribute to his | the human brute beat the brains out of daughter Jean, who died just one year | the poor deer that had just saved his 1. | ago. It was written on the day of her | worthless life. His hatred for all animal “le dd life did not bring out one spark of dor- It's only a week, dear, and my brother | At breakfast-time of the third day of | “Jean's dog has been wandering about mant pity that his stony heart might have Phoebe's absence Septimus Hyde's head | the grounds today, comradeless and for- | ci was nearer his saucer of oatmeal than |lorn. I have seen him from the windows. | nate animal. I wish you could see your way to go | usual. Yet the flight of his spoon was | She got him from Germauy. He has tall ! "Such deeds as the above are character- ears and looks exactly like a wolf. He | istic of the dog killers. Did you ever no- tly the . i y i trail and note how ac- Septimus ‘Hyde's lips were vexed and Ee 3pparen y oat- | was educated in Germany, and knows no | tice a hound on a trail and i and he murdered the unfortu- have run many miles in a wilderness that ‘Jean's. From her childhood up she al- | he never saw before? ways spent the most of her allowance on | The best friend a man has in the world mother whom we trust with our happi- EO > ail utinvals, § LL OE ae IY ae and she loved them all, birds, beasts, and | traitors to their faith. The one absolute- everything—even snakes—an inheritance | jy unselfish friend that man can have in n this selfish world, the one that never was high up in that lore. She became a | proves ungrateful or treacherous is his Po A man's dog stands by him in ity and poverity, in health and fied g 3 E 1) H Eg : 1! = i g i : 3 Beis : : 3 — i) : i . sun. As I gazed on this beau- tiful creature, my heart was filled with sorrow and I thought that its innocence and beauty should have ted it against any civilized human being. I had a desire to know how these two ht enough to shoot I I saw her again ay. in a little : play casket. [witnessed ir she bent over the coffin and 1 heard her despairing wail as some kind friend gent- ly led her away. I saw her little play- mates with tears streaming down their : faces. | viewed the remains after the had been led away. One tiny | lock of hair had been disarranged the grief of the mother and it lay y across the id on the face of this little girl there was a striking similarity of innocence be- tween the dead child in the casket and the dead fawn lying on the rough boards at that backwoods hotel with these ex-! ceptions, the little girl's chubby hands | bow ties were made of. ‘lhe most at- tractive of these are in two-tone affects, | lacy and soft and silkly as any feminine closed as if in peaceful | fancy. slumber. The little fawn's eyes were staring wide and al glazed death, there still remained a glint of the .rending grief of the mother as and as I gazed were folded over : gloat generous heart that was forever led in death, her eyes were of heart that that little fawn felt as it trotted out of the forest with the ex- pec of the little girl had been taken by the hand of God for a just and good purpose. The little fawn’s life had been taken by the most diabolical and cowardly known to man and first practiced by the America n Indian, “shot to death from am LLoYn PORTER. i id / 3% i E i za s iL 1 g fh HH g i g py organs are invited to consult Dr. Pierce, by letter, free. All con- fidential. Address Dr. R Pierce, Buf- falo, N. Y. FOR AND ABOUT WOMEN. DAILY THOUGHT. God is the giver, life a partnership, humanity a _ brotherhood. ~ Timothy Titcomb. Medium-sized flowers are banked over many crowns. It lightens the hats and has been found advisable to have only the brim of straw, when the flowers are _ to be banked over the crown. As there is still considerable velvet used on the hats, particularly for facing, every device should be employed to detract from the weight. sing banks, pyramids and bouquets of small and medium-size flowers is the fav- orite motif for trimming. There is a good deal of lace employed in various ways and not a little ribbon in epingle, faille and velvet, as well as uncut velvet. Os- trich, in both willow and French effects, leads in feathers, many of these being shaded or in several harmonizing colors. In ornaments, beads lead and these are fashioned into bands and strings, as well as buckles and cabochons. One of the cleverest new hats shows a new rture. The whole shape is cov- ered with small loops of silk I aaoys white, some e green, and some black, cleverly folded and set very closely together, so that they look almost like flower petals. On the one side there are two rose-shaped choux of emerald green ribbon, with tall upstanding ends, wired to keep them stiffly in _ and giv- ing the always becoming aigrette effect. The slender platinum chain is fast superceding the gold one in its use for pendants. Mountings also are of the same metal, and the number of designs for this most popular ornament continue to be on the increase. The most fash- ionablel ean toward simplicity. In illus- . tration of this, there is the single pear- shaped stone t amethyst or aqua- marine, su by openwork or platinum. The enamel necklace is like- wize conspicuous. latter are usually very ornate; one has the entire chain formed of green enamel links of a floral design, with a pearl of different tone in each segment, and alarge pendant, similar in color or motif, from which de- perde an iridescent pearl of unusual auty. Have you noticed the emphasis focal on braid in the spring models? It has invaded millinery, coats and wra and not content with this, it has vs og itself felt on accessories such as handbags, etc. In the realm of dress braid it is most noticeable. This year it must be very wide, and, although at first it seems ex- pensive, the wearing qualities of this trimming are such that you change your mind and succumb. Wide braid is used to outline the fa- vorite sailor collor on suits and It forms reveres; it is easily used to fash- | ion deep cuffs, and frequently 1 : plastrons and inserted pieces are introduced just to prove what a valuable asset braid is. Very wide braid—and it can be one- half yard in width—is used to form the front of coats, or to fushion wide banels on coats or skirts. From this expensive, but beautiful trimming, half-length sleeves are made trimmed with silver or golden buttons. Silk braid is used on the elaborate sat- in suit that is coming slowly but surely. "It forms the trimming for the jacket, and then is used as deep bands on the skirt. On serge dresses the vogue for wide braid is quite pronounced. Whether ! they be white or colored, the braid seems to trim them with an appropriateness that attracts the eye. Remember that braid, if of good quali- ty, can be used again and again. It -out- | lasts the garment that it trims and in the : end pays you for your investment. The latest medicine bottles to hold poisonous substances have a patent stop- | per that requires time and thought to open. Its aim is to prevent a child open- ing it, or an adult from mistaking it in the dark. The latest material for men’s ties is not unlike the old-fashioned grenadine that Few indeed are the petticoats worn with the lightweight spring suits, but | where a petticoat is wornit is of the soft- est messaline or satin fitted closely and ; smoothly down to a deep flounce, which is either accordion pleated or shaped so ! and there are some effects in a black and white stripe, although when | the white stripe is too wide the petticoat soils quickly. Although very often most attractive,the ug of dor for 2 girdle will probably lose or as a fad it That it is pretty, , cannot be denied, and with the empire waist line there is no more appropriate finish. {Many variations of the sailor collar are seen on blouses of a semi-tailored type These are pretty and always distinctly youthful. The round the square Dutch neck and the pointed Dutch neck are all seen, the newest the t- ed, but on some of the new es one sees the rather neckline | was written in the book as early as last ‘ December. It is a prophecy that has been fulfilled, or rather a promise made good. The short sack coat, made after a | man’s model, is the one which is consid- ered the best. It has straight under arm seams, is heavily weighted, and is cover- ed with pockets. There seems not the SE ulieve haat the Sue any sition. TE that laps over at the waist line to fasten, hut the coh hat Dikions than not breasted is unfash- fs 0 5 0 Single
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers