Standing 2t morn on the broad highway,
1am a pilgrim, backward going,
Where? Ah—where? If there's any knowing
Only you can show me the way.
1 am aweary, grave little daughter,
Broke is my staff with the steep hill climb,
Dry is my flask of the holy water
Drained of the rose when the new had sought
her
Long ago at the matin chime.
1 have tarried too long in the sordid towers
‘That sear the valley on yonder side.
Somewhere, child, for the world is wide!
Lead, little feet that are light with laughter,
Back, far back, ere the end of day.
Ion the highroad, stumble after,
Only vou can show me the way.
—Margaret Belle Houston, in Ainslee’s.
THE EXCEEDING WILINESS OF MRS.
generals are but slaves to small circum-
stances. Unfortunately, in the interval
after dinner, in which Mrs. Mimms wash-
ed the dishes while her husband took
forty winks in his chair on the porch, a
Wasp hal assaulted Mr. Mimms. He was
tingly made her
As a result, she was not only told
very shortly that the money was not to
be spared—that she had been prepared
for—but also that the dress was not need-
ed, and, moreover, that she was ting
too old and gray to care about such tom-
foolery. As her last dress dated back to
the meeting of the same Association four
years before, the injustice as well as the
disparaging nature of this remark had
cut like a knife, and Mrs. Mimms, con-
trary to custom and to her previous in-
tention, had retired from the field with-
out further ado.
Now she sat and thought it over, and
the more she thought the more it became
apparent to her that Syram didn't love
her any more or he would never have
spoken so cruelly. The disappointment
about the dress was swallowed up in the
pain of shat ge ht.
e sight of a lilac sunbonnet coming
* along by the fence, usually a harbinger of
easure, brought no balm to her soul.
e knew that it was Homey Story bring-
ing the last number of the Female Fire-
side Friend, to which they subscribed in
common, and of which Homey, in her
capacity of dressmaker, had first glean-
ings. Mrs. Mimms had looked forward
to Saying to her, with n indifference,
whic masked hidden pride, “By the way,
Homey, I've decided to buy that gray
alpaca down to the store, an’ I want you
to come over next week an’ make it up
for me for the Association,” and to re-
Seiving Homey's shvious congratulations
ore. ow this pleasant prospect
wa ended. P P
omey came up the steps, mopping her
ump red face with the a her
csunbonnet. She was too hot and hur-
ried to miss the usual enthusiasm of her
frigd's grasting
ere’s the Fireside Friend,” she said,
breathlessly. “I thought Ma was never
goin’ to be through with it. It looks like
the less holt her mind has of things the
more she seems to cling on to 'em. She's
be’n goin’ over that fashion plate for the
Best pars of three days, an’ I'll lay she
couldn’t tell a thing that’s in it."
Mrs. Mimms held out a languid hand
for the paper. “It don't make no differ-
ence,” she said, dispiritedly. “I wasn't
specially peed in it nohow.”
ey lool er surprise. Only one
thing could account Suns. a Pi on
such a subject. “Ben’t you a-goin’ to get
that gray alpaca for th iation!”
Shay gray pa e Association!
, with interest. The subject
had been under animated discussion out
tween them some dozen times before.
"No; I've decided that I don't keer for
it,” said the loyal Mrs. Mimms. “My
blue nun’s-veiling is plenty good enough.
le think a heap too much about
clothes an’ sech trifles, anyhow, an’ I
don’t ya go set no Example of fine
n’ to the you s
Sess young folks," she added,
“Yes, your nun’s-veiling is
of course,” said Homey, wil
parent diplomacy of one too polite to dis-
sent y from a proposition. "Well, 1
must hurry back an’ fit Phemie Strickler.
She'll be waitin’ when I get there.”
HOw she Savin that dress made?"
queried Mrs. Mimms, with i
ne S, a faint show
“Same old tight way that mak
look jest like a oy She's be’'n Ck
clothes that same way ever
sence Jake Kite told her it was becomin’
her, when he was a-waitin’ on her, an’
She was Soult an’ had Some bust mea-
sure. n married fifteen rs an’
got eight children, ba rR to
eno
ge
SEX
Homey hurried away to her waiti
patron, and Mrs. Mimms turned ry
tention slowly to the Fireside Friend. Its
first page was taken up almost entirely
wth the picture of a pompadoured young
woman in a low-necked gown, with a
Lady Teazle curl over one shoulder and
a piece of black velvet around her throat,
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's eye.
and went into the
e little mirror on top
drawers
and two wire hairpins that confined her
light grizzled hair in a tight knot on the
back of her head. With the aid of a horn
comb she began to twist and arrange the
hair into as near a resemblance to the
pompadour in the picture as the scanti-
ness of the material and her own unskil-
Hines bc Bl a iD ©
0 ing, combing, pu or
hair that has been parted in y the
same line and brushed flat for forty years
has contracted habits that are hard to
overcome.
When she had finished constructing the
mpadour there was nothing left for the
Py Teazle curl or even for the smallest
knot behind. But Mrs. Mimms, her blood
being fired by what she considered the
success of her efforts, recklessly supplied
the deficiency by snipping off a pale blue
ribbon bow from her most sacred “tidy”
in the parlor and pinning it on so as not
only to shield the vacancy behind, but to
resent two coquettish loops in front.
Then she went into the “comp’ny room’
closet and dived into the cedar chest in
which her own and Syram’s best clothes
were kept. She dared not sacrifice the
blue nun’s-veiling on the altar of a wan-
ing affection, as it seemed that it must be
her only dependence for the future, but
her second-best dress, a brown cashmere
of ten years before, which had been turned
and made over until it was too faded and
worn for anything but rainy Sundays—
that she decided she might venture on
the extravagance of using.
She divested herself of the black and
white calico which was her ordinary at-
tire, and put on the brown dress, turning
in the neck in a very modest V in front,
around which she folded a large white
handkerchief.
surveyed herself. To her eyes the result
was wholly satisfying, and a most pleas-
ing and artistic variation to her usual ap-
pearance. She even ventured upon a bit
of black ribbon around the throat, but
the feeling that this was going too far |
and would certainly be characterized by
Syram as “tom-foolishness” made her take
it off rather regretfully. She thought it
did much to increase her resemblance to
the young female in the picture.
A glance at the clock cut short her ad-
miring scrutiny and sent her hurrying to
the kitchen. unaccustomed prep-
arations had taken far more time than
she had realized, and she well knew that
no amount of mysterious attractiveness
on her part would atone in Syram’s eyes
for any deficiency in the matter of sup-
Pe Halt an hour later Mr. Syram Mimms,
coming up from the stable with a foaming
milk-bucket in ony hanes wi hajted in
his progress by the sight of Mrs. Mimms
feeding the chickens in the back yard.
She had denied even the common justice
of a checked gingham apron to the brown
It required a great |
Then she stood off and |
oe —
time,” retorted Mrs. Mimms. She wasin
pursuit of the advice to “make little
mysteries with one’s husband,” and she
was en herself immensely.
Mr. ms picked up the milk-buck-
ets with a violence that sloshed some
their contents over the of his over-
alls and strode away in a high state of in-
ving strained the milk into the row
of waiting crocks on the porch table and
it away in the cool spring-house over
little branch, he washed his face and
at the pump and flattened his wiry
hair in front of the little mirror which
had reflected the decorative attempts of
Mrs Mimms—this last an un
to the ex-
| wholly unwilling concession
! ce of Tish Chapman—and
to his wife's call to supper. As
he entered the kitchen, he looked appre-
hensively around the room, even giving a
furtive glance behind the door; but there
was no one there save his wife, hospita-
bly beaming at him behind the coffee-pot,
he was too much displeased to ask
further explanation.
“Wiii you have a cup of coffee, Mr.
Mimms?” asked his wife, in exactly the
same tone that she would have used to
the circuit-rider.
“Of course I'll have coffee,” replied
Mr. Mimms, tedly. “Ain't I be’'n
a-havin’ it these forty years? What 'd you
su; I'd have?”
rs. Mimms made no direct reply.
“Let me give you a piece of this egg
bread,” she said, with sweet cordiality,
real good, of I do say it as
shouldn't.”
in Mr. Mimms caught himself look-
ing involuntarily aro the room. The
term “egg bread” was one reserved only
for company use—the name “batter
bread” being the ordinary appellation or
the delicious mixture of corn-meal, eggs,
soda, and buttermilk, which formed the,
main feature of every valley breakfast
g
:
supper.
“Yaas, I'll have some of that, too, fer a
change,” replied Mr. Mimms, sarcastical-
ly, “seein’ as thar ain't nothin’ else to
have, an’ a man as is be’'n wrastlin’ with
young steers all the evenin’ feels the need
of a leetle somethin’ to stay his stum-
mick.”
“I'm sorry to hear as you've be’'n hav-
in’ trouble with the young cattle,” re-
marked Mrs. Mimms, politely conversa-
tional.
Her husband made no reply, and the
conversation languished. He continued
to watch her furtively as the meal pro-
ceeded, marvelling greatly at the change
in her appearance, though, mankind, he
could not tell where the difference was.
“I made a diskivery to-day, Syram,”
said his wife at length, “that you'll be
interested in.”
“What was it?” demanded her husband,
briefly.
“Guess what,” said Mrs. Mimms, co-
| quettishly. She was in further pursuit
! of the little mysteries detail, as she in-
| terpreted it.
| “How kin I tell what it was!” inquired
{ Mr. Mimms, irritably. “It mout have
| be'n ‘most anything. I can't tell what it
was.”
“I found a big wasp's nest vp in the
front porch roof,” said Mrs. Mtmms,with
determined sprightliness.
The subject was unfortunate. Mr.
Mimms pushed back his chair with a
harsh, rasping sound, arosein wrath, and
stoad towering over her.
“What is the matter with you woman?"
he shouted. “What's come over you?
Who are you a-lookin’ for, and what in
the nation have you got on your mind?”
His wife looked up into his face with a
sweet and engaging swile, “I was only
a-lookin’ for you, Syram,” she said, de-
murely.
Now, by all the canons of the Fireside
Friend, Mr. Mimms at this juncture
should have begun to act in a loverlike
and affectionate manner. But he didn’t.
He stared long, with bulging eyeballs.
Then he turned on his heel and went
out.
On the front porch he sat down in the
| chair lately occupied by his wife, and
leaning over, with his elbows on his
knees, gazed at his feet in deep thought.
"1 never would have dremp it!" he said
at length. “I never would have dremp
it! I've always knowed as how her aunt
Jinny went this way, but Sarah's always
be'n so quiet and peaceable like. I've
hearn as how d disappointment or bein’
crossed in anything bri it out, but
Sarah is too sensible to take on so "bout
a leetle thing like that. I hope she ain't
a-goin’ ter git violent! She ain't that
kind, neither, but I've often hearn her
tell "bout how her uncle Mace woke up
one night an’ found her aunt Jinny a-lean-
in" over him with the cyarvin'-knife
a-screechin’ out somethin’ ‘bout killin’
hawgs.”
Cold sweat suddenly broke out upon
the brow of Mr. Mimms. He looked anx-
iously down the road to see if he could
see anything of old Dr. Lindsay coming
along home on his way to supper, but
there was no one in sight. In the house
he could hear his wife singing as she
washed the dishes, and he noted with in-
creased anxiety that instead of, “Here I'll
raise my Ebenezer,” as usual, she was
humming somethi about “Meet me
cashmere dress for fear of ling the | when daylight is ng"—a ditty he re-
effect, and she was doing her best to ap- | membered to have heard long years ago
pear unconscio when he was a man used to
us.
“Whar've you ben?" demanded Mr.
Mimms.
“I hain’t be'n nowheres.”
| go across the mountain every other Sun-
! day to “keep comp'ny” with her, much
| against the wishes of his parents, who
“What be you a-doin’ rigged out in| wanted him to marry a valley girl. He
them then?" he asked, severely. ' had never regretted his choice. e had
Mrs. Mimms tilted her head to one side : been a and “biddable” wife to him,
and smiled up at her husband a some-
what shy but coquettish smile. "I was
jest expectin’ of somebody,” she said.
“ ain't a-sayin’ who."
Mr. Mimm's eyes almost bulged from !i
his head at the unexpected nature of this
reply. He set the buckets carefully down
on the ground, that he might concentrate
his attention n the matter in hand.
“It can’t be Bohannon
Smoot,” he soliloquized, half aloud. “She
wouldn't dike up so for them; and the
circuit-rider ain't due for two weeks yet.
It must be Tish Cha from over t'
Court-House.” Tish was a first
cousin of his wife's, who had money in
her own right, and of whom Syram didn’t
approve because she was too “dressy”
anc wasted her money and put notions
into his wife's head.
“It’s dretful expensive havin’ so much
comp'ny. I wish folks would stay to home
an’ do their work an’ mind r own
business,” he added.
‘I never said nothin’ ‘bout comp'ny,”
replied Mrs. Mimms, with some spirit.
She remembered with indignation that it
had been two months since there had
been any one in the house to a meal. The
- | close ways of the valley often
grated on her more generous Rio :
: t,
“Then what are you a-
woman? Who are you a-lookin' for?”
demanded Mr. Mimms, in exasperation.
or Mina |
| and never crossed him save in the
! matter of extravagant notions in the way
of Sress. which he had been prompt to
curb.
half unconsciously 15 the article As he
read on, expression more
fixed, and presently a look of .
sion began to dawn on his Soun-
y ex-
treme relief. After be had read it through
once he turned back to the and
read it again. At the close he the
Papss down witli chuckie.
al, of all the tarnation fool pieces
| that ever I read this beats 'em,” remark-
ed Mr. Mimms. "“An’ to think she should
have be’n actin’ up to it that way.”
“Never mind who. You'll know ingood | Sudgenty
a look of noble resolution
on of his hard countenance.
“So French husband keeps his wife
' supplied with flowers and bonbons, does
‘he? 1 wonder what in the nation bon-
‘bons are? The flowers seemed too friv-
of 'olous even for the frivolity of the occa-
| sion. As he idly pawed the magazine in
his consideration of the matter, enlighten.
ment came to him. On the back cover
| the picture of another young lady engaged
in eating, with great apparent relish, a
. number of small round objects from a
‘box labelled “Best Assorted Bonbons”
caught his eye. .
| “Candy!” he ejaculated, succinctly, and
he sei his hat and started down to-
and . wards the village.
| When his wife came out on the porch
| some ten minutes later, he was just com-
| ing up the steps with a bulging bag in
' bis hand. It was Mrs. Mimm’'s turn to
! stare. Some half a dozen times in her
| married life such a had been present-
{ed to her, and this limited experience
i told her—or tried to tel! her, for she was
'too incredulous to believe it—that the
, bag contained lemon and peppermint
stick candy.
| "Here's your bonbons!" said her hus-
' band, with something more of indulgence
"in his face than it had worn for twenty
| years. “An’I think I can manage to git
| that thar dress for you—ef you won't
make it cost too much,” he added, pru-
| dently.—By Daisy Rinehart, in Harper's
\ Bazar.
|
!
| Toget an idea of the prevalence of
i “Stomach trouble” it is only necessary to
| observe the number and variety of tab-
{ lets, powders, and other preparations of-
| fered as a cure for disorders of the stom-
ach. To obtain an idea as to the fatality
i of stomach diseases it is only necessary
| to realize that with a “weak stomach” a
| man has a greatly reduced chance of re-
| covery from any disease. Medicine is not
| life; Blood is life. Medicines hold disease
{in check while Nature strengthens the
| body through blood, made from the food
| received into the stomach. If the stom-
| ach is "weak" Nature works in vain. Dr.
Pierce's Golden Medical Discovery must
| not be classed with the pills, powders and
| potions, which have at best a pallative
| value. The "Discovery" is a medicine
{ which absolutely cures diseases of the or-
| gans of digestion and nutrition. It puri-
fies the blocd, and by increasing the ac-
tivity of the blood-making glands in-
creases the blood supply. It is a temper-
ance medicine and contains no alcohol,
neither opium, cocaine, nor other nar-
cotics.
—Every flock of 50 or more animals
will be better off under the care of a
sheep-dog.
Don’t Be a Slave.
Don't bg a slave to pills. Every pill
user is in danger of such slavery, unless
he recognizes the fact that violent purga-
tives are hostile to Nature. Dr. Pierce's
Pleasant Pellets are small sugar-coated
pills, which act on the bowels, stomach
and liver with an invigorating action.
They cure disorders of these organs and
do not beget the pill habit.
it Was Tuned to Play a Costly Air For
Banker Fould.
Rachel, the famous actress, did not
neglect any means of turning a more
or less honest penny. In his new life
of her Francis Gribble tells the fol-
lowing story of a guitar:
Rachel first saw and admired it in
an artist's studio. “Give it to me,”
soe said. “I want to pretend that it
is the guitar on which 1 earned my
living as a street singer.”
The jest seemed a pleasant one, and
the artist handed over the instrument.
and hung it in her own apartment,
where it duly attracted the attention
of Achille Fould, the banker. Hear-
ing its story, he expressed -° wish
to possess it. “Very well” said
Rachel, “you can have it for a thou-
sand louis.”
“Five hundred,”
trying to bargain.
“No, a thousand,” said Rachel, ex-
pressing her disdain for those who
haggled.
And the banker actually paid a thou-
said the banker,
ure at the Hotel Drouot and that the
into a fit on the floor.
Devoted to Duty.
“Are you ever coming to bed?’ he
called out.
promised Mrs. Jones that I'd keep
away, and I'm going to know what
time he comes home if I have to stay
up all night." —Detroit Free Press.
Went Further.
“Didn't I tell you that when you
met a man in hard luck you ought to
greet him wtih a smile?” said the wise
and good counselor.
“Yes,” replied the flinty souled per-
son.
1 gave him tbe grand laugh.”"—Wash-
ington Star.
Forget Them.
If you would increase your happiness
and prolong your life forget your neigh-
bors’ faults. Forget the slanders you
have ever heard. Forget the fault
finding and give a little thought to the
cause which provoked it.
A Sensible Start.
“My wife has joined the reform
movement.”
“What does she propose to do first?”
“Get some reliable woman to take
care of baby."—Pittsburg Post.
Room For Improvement.
Agent—Wouldn't you like to try our
new typewriter for a spell, sir? Busi-
I'm employing now,
American.
sir.—Baltimore
nm—
A Matter of Measure.
“He writes poetry by the yard.”
“That's probably why his verse is
poor. Poetry should be written by
a —
Death Frem Imagination.
How faith may kill as well as cure
is shown by ome of the cases men:
tioned by Dr. Charles Reinhardt in
“Faith, Medicine and the Mind." A
convicted murderer had been handed
over to the physiologists for the pur
pose of an experiment. He wax told
that his hour bad come and that it
had been decided that he should be
bled to death. His eyes were bundaged.
and he was pinioned. opportunity firs
baving been given him to see the
formidable array of surgical instru
ments, the vessels to catch the blood
and the other terror inspiring para
pheraalia of the vivisector's liboratory
A biunt instrument wax now drawn
sharply across his throat und a stream
of worm water was made to trickle
from his neck into a vessel below the
operating table upon which Le lay
After awhile the sounds, which tad
previously been continuous and peur
at band, were gradually reduced uutil
the patient. doubtless supposing that!
te was bleeding to death. gradually
lost consciousness. fainted and ex-
pired.
The Pznama Hat.
A popular comedian ut a Lambs
club gumbol in New York told a pana:
ma hat story.
“A young clerk out my way,” he.
said. “gave his girl a present of a’
panama last year. Then the day be
fore the Fourth he got a couple of
comnlimentaries for a picnic, clambake |
and corn roast down the river. and he
wired the girl:
*“*Meet me at pier 13 tomorrow
morning at 7.
“The next morning as he stood on
pler 13 dreaming dreams of love, im:
aginiug a long, sweet day of billing
and coving. he saw his girl advancing
with her father and mother. He was
terribly annoyed, and on the boat, as
soon as he could get her alone. he.
hissed:
“What did you want to bring the
old folks for?
“*Why, Will. you told me to she,
said. and she showed him the tele
gram, which the operator had made to
read:
* ‘Bring pa and ma.'"”
Whistler Before Whistler.
Mortimer Menpes told the following
story of Whistler, who was to deliver
an address one day to the Society of
British Artists: “The master at length
entered, faultlessly dressed. walking
with a swinging. jaunty stép. evident-
ly quite delighted with himself and
the world in general. He passed down
the gallery. ignoring the assembled
members, and walked up to his own
Plenic. Bring panama.’ |
FOR AND ABOUT WOMEN.
DAILY THOUGHT.
The mind is the master over every kind of for-
tune; a great mind becomes a great fortune.
At present buyers are giving considera-
ble attention to the lines of cloth coats
which are now being sold by manufactur
ers, says the Dy Goods Economist. Gar-
ments made of heavy, rough materials
art the most desirable. The majority of
these are double-faced, with the reverse
side of a plain color, which is used for
the trimmings. Scotch tweeds, melanges,
ratines, fancy mixtures, cheviots and fan-
cy woven serges are being taken by man
of the buyers, who expect that they will
be the t demand during the coming
fali and winter.
For walking or shopping the kind chos-
en is heavy, so much so that no trace of
skin shows through. Such silk, thick asit
is, has an entirely different effect from
lisle or the best quality of cotton. It is
not always “clocked,” but may be if one
prefers.
Thin transparent silk may be embroid-
ered over the instep in black for after-
NOGA uke Jf agin Sha Mk is Snider.
st: that she is not s to an
walking in such hosiery. y
For evening, stockings chosen are so
fairylike as to be literally gossamer. The
lower part may be entirely of lace, or
open work so fine as to appear like the
latter. There is a fad for light colored
hosiery in the evening, with black satin
or patent leather ps, but it is notreg-
Slatien, shoes and stockings matching as
a rule.
Any girl whose mother or grandmother
has a silk shawl, no matter what the size,
| should endeavor to have it given to her.
Just now the loveliest summer wraps
and matinees are being made from them,
and the fact that the delicate material
need not be cut is apt to make the own-
er more willing to transfer it to the
younger member of the family.
As the shawl is large or small, it is
manipulated pointed OF square. The best
effects will be gained in latter, if the
wrap is of the smaller variety.
It is taken tor granted that the shawls
have fringed ed but should this not
| be the case a silk fringe as wide as one
‘can afford should be carefully sewed
around.
If it is impossible to match the color,
white may be substituted, although a
black fringe on a white shawl is especial-
ly effective.
If the square is a small one the top is
turned over wide enough to form a
‘ border, 12 inches at least. With this still
' back, the shawl is folded squarely in two
| up and down.
i Then 20 inches from the middle the top
| border is tacked together. This may be
{ done with a pin to try the best propor-
tion. The wrap is then put on, the pin
or tack coming at the middle of the back
of the neck.
It is then necessary to have another
| tack put on at the bottom of the V form.
‘ed at the back, and the wrap is com-
picture. And there he stayed for quite | plete.
fifteen minutes. regarding it with a' It requires no lining, of course.
Ribbons, or a fancy clasp may be put
satisfied expression. stepping DOW | 54 “to hold it together cver the bust.
Rachel embellished it with ribbons |
sand louis for the worthless knick- !
knack. It is said that he learned the
truth when he tried to sell his treas-
discovery of the hoax nearly sent him |
“1 don't know,” she replied. “I.
track of her husband while she is
“1 went even further than that.
ness Man-— Not if it spells like the one |
foot."~Birmingham Age-Herald. i
backward. now forward. canting his |
head and dusting the surface of the
glass with a silk pocket handkerchief.
We watched him open mouthed. Sud-
denly he turned round. beamed upon
us and uttered but two words—
‘Bravo. Jimmy!"—then took my arm
and hurried me out of the gallery.
talking volubly the while.”
mt
King's Queer Present For 3 Queen.
In all probability the king of Daho-
mey's present of pipes aud loin cloths
never reached Buckingham palace. On
one occasion, however, Queen Victoria
had publicly to accept a gift of quite
as embarrassing a nature. This was
in 1856. when the king of Siam sent a
mission to England. On being present-
ed to the queen, who received them
seated on her throne and wearing her
crown, the envoys crawled from the
doors to her majesty's feet on their
hands and knees and then each drew a
present from the folds of his robes.
The first object placed in the queen's
hands was a silver spittoon.—London
. Chronicle.
Ctagecoach of the Twenties.
Brooks Bowman commenced running
an hourly stagecoach between Boston
and Roxbury on March 1, 1826. He
left the town house on Roxbury hill
every day in the week except the Sab-
bath at 8, 10, 12, 2, 4 and 6 o'clock and,
returning, started from the Old South
church at 9. 11, 3. 5 and 7 o'clock.
The fare was 121% cents each way.
Her Good Advice.
They had been courting for only
four years when Silas spoke as follows:
“1 think you oughter give me jest
one kiss, Sary, you know; it's far bet:
ter to give than receive.”
“You don't say?" said Sary coyly.
“Then {it seems to me some folk
oughter practice what they preach!”
Descriptive.
One little girl was telling her moth-
er how another little girl was dressed
at a parts. “And would you believe
it, mamma,” she concluded, “her slip-
| pers were so tight 1 could see all the
| knuckles on her toes.”—Chicago News.
i
He Was Playing.
First Actress—You say you are hard
, up. Isn't your husband playing this
| season, then? Second Actreess—Yes,
! he is. That's just the trouble. First
A.—~Why, what's he playing—Hamlet?
Second A.—No; cards!
The Other Extreme.
Parke—Poor Pilter! His wife is a
spendthrift. Is there anything worse,
I wonder, than a wife that's too ex-
travagant? Tame—Ob, yes; one that's
too economical.—Brooklyn Life.
: Thin as a Rail.
i “Is he as thin as I have heard?’
“He's thinner. Say. when he tried
en a double breasted coni one row of
buttons was up his hack." — Exchange.
There is nothing so easy but that it
, becomes difficult when you dag it with
_ Variety is given by making the tack a
| little to one side of the middle. The fas-
, tening then laps over in front, when the
wrap is worn.
When the shawl is wide, it should be
| folded first three corners, regulation
| shawl fashion, except that the top is not
' turned over quite so far. Tacking is the
| same as with the other shape.
i Rainy days seem to have been invented
' as a test of awoman's crder and neatness.
| At least so it seems from the number of
! dilapidated and shabbily attired speci-
| mens of feminine carelessness that blos-
som with the rain. It is enough to make
Dame Fashion add to the downpour with
tears of vexation for her flouted fancies
to see the disregard of popular modes in
the rainy day attire.
When the girl who is going out gets up
in the morning and sees the cloud veiled
sky she immediately hies herself to a re-
mote corner of the closet and brin,
forth her “old suit.” This old suit is in
any stage of decadence, from second best
to several seasons back. It may be shiny,
it may be faded, or it may be merely
hopelessly out of fashion, but invariably
it makes the wearer look frumpy and in
accord with the weather. Then she meets
all the e for whom she particularly
cares just use she is not well dressed
and comes home with a feeling of having
left behind a decidedly unpleasant im-
pression.
One man was so impressed with the
pleasing appearance of a girl he knew
when he met her one rainy day that he
decided on the spot to win her for his
wife.
“I met Ruth downtown one gloomy af-
ternoon,” he said in relating the incident,
“when the rain was chasing everybody off
the streets and people looked about as
much like drowned ducks as possible.
She wore a neat gray raincoat buttoned
snugly up to her chin; high, sensible
looking black shoes, and the snappiest
little hat wound with some sort or red
scarf. I decided that any girl who could
brave the weather and bob up serenely
like a flower that simply reveled in the
rain was a pretty sort of girl to win.
The chances are she would meet the
overcast skies of real life in the same
glad fashion.”
Attractive rainy day outfits are inex-
pensive. The well dressed girl will see
the wisdom of spending a little less for
her ing gowns and putting the extra
amount into clothes suitable for wet days.
Side frills will be oue of the prominent
items in fall , says the
Goods Economist, and will be featured in
two effects—those made of materials
of a more pressy character, Being fash-
joned from very sheer materials and
Be She.
ent on gowns of or kin-
dred materials.
Tomatoes With Bacon.—A popular dish
in Denmark. Lay large squace crackers
in the bottom of a ow pan. On each
cracker put a thick slice of tomato—
either canned or with
salt and , and on slice of
i og igh el bacon.
pan in a hot oven. When the bacon is
crisp the tomatoes are ready to serve.
Mocha Filling.—Cook
of cream, two-
and a heaping
soon as it threads remove
reluctance.~Terence.
from
add a quarter of a cup of strong
ns Jog BSB
SHI