ee ————————— EE ——————
Work while yet the daylight shines,
Man of strength and will;
Never doesthe streamlet glide
Useless by the mill.
Wait not till tomorrow's sun
Beams upon the way.
All that thou canst call thy own
Lies in thy today.
Power, inlellect, and health,
May not, cannot last;
*“The mill will never grind
With the water that has passed.”
Oh, the wasted hours of life,
That have drifted by!
Oh, the good we might have done,
Lost without a sigh!
Love that we might once have saved
By a single word;
Thoughts conceived, but never penned,
Perishing unheard.
Take the proverb to thine heart,
Take! oh, hold it fast!—
“The mill will never grind
With the water that has passed.”
~The Easy Book.
THEIR FRIENDS.
es apn wi the fog, and all
e swooped upon us
ote bergs, swallowed our
steam-yacht, and spat it out again; o%
day long we drove through the mist
at Jouytesn knots, and sounded no horn
or bell.
At five o'clock we were si in the
lee of the smokin room Vera Koyd her
lover’s brother, Darrell, Joynder, -
son, and I. The old captain walked slow-
ly upto us, saluted, and jerked his
left shoulder, as was his way before
“According to reckoning,” he announc-
ed, “we're about fifty miles from the
island. I couldn't take the sun properly
today. and may be a bit out.”
: Captain!” cried Vera. “Oh, Cap-
tain! You aren't afraid of missing it?"’
She laid her hand entreatingly on his
arm. He had been on the yacht since
she was a child in short frocks, and she
called him her “sea-father.”
“I'm more afraid of hitting it,” he said,
grimly. “I think the course is pretty near
right. It’s the distance I'm doubtful
about. I can't tell to twenty or thirty
miles. I'll take soundings, of course; but |
if we find the shallows at this speed—!"
He jerked his shoulder again.
“But if we are thirty miles out the
other way, and you slow down,” she said,
“we sha'n’t be in time. Just think!”
“I've done a lot of thinking,” he told
her. “And it's you I've been thinking
about, Missie. We're men and don’t mat-
jer, but I don’t like gambling vith your
ife.
Vera looked at him and at us.
“I ought not to reckon,” she said; “but
you—I ought to reckon the risk to you.”
“We came to take the risk,” I said. Dar-
ju Jojnder, and Richardson nodded and
“It’s half the fun,” Richardson remark-
The captain jerked his shoulder and
nodded too. “Not that I make a jest of
it,” he protested.
Her lover's brother neither nodded nor
laughed.
“Then you may gamble with my life,”
Vera said; “and thank you.”
The captain gave another jerk of his
shoulder, saluted,and went to the bridge;
and Vera turned to us.
“Oh!” she cried. “Thank you all! Not
Rupert, of course, because he is his broth-
er, and he was bound to; and as for me
—my life is his. But yowu—no, I will not
thank you. You are his friends.”
“We are his friends,” 1said, “and couid
do no less.”
Her lover lay in prison at the island. 1
will not name it. Some years have pass-
ed; but they have a long memory in that
fierce country of his. It was a political
offence. He had followed his brother,
and they had failed. His brother had
escaped, and the secret police had caught
our Frank. Tomorrow at sunrise he
would die, unless we rescued kim.
It was a mad idea this rescue. His
brother had called it impossible when it
was proposed by the little iy man who
came from over the sea. But the little
pale man had gone to Vera; and she had
ught them to us. the friends of the
Prince—well, I did nut mean to write him
down that; but it is down, and it can
stay—the friends of the Prince and of
her; the gray old friend, myself, once his
tutor; and the three young friends who
had learned with him.
“Let us go in my yacht,” she had plead-
ed, “and try to save him. It is worth
risking our lives.”
. “Itisn’t the risk of a useless old life
that I mind,” I told her. "It's the useless-
ness of the risk. It can’t be done, girlie.
It can't be done.”
“This gentleman has a way,” she de-
Sa “Ho js pis friend And the little
e man rugged himself and ex-
tended his hands
“It is simple,” he asserted. “So sim-
ple! I will go to the island, as I have gone
once before. It was to arrange for the
escape of—of some one who died too
soon. It was fever said. I was a
riest then, and I shall be a priest again.
ey will let me see the Prince. I shall
be his confessor and sit with him on the
last night. I know the cell. It is in the
end of a narrow corridor on top of the
castle; seven rooms to the right, from the
tower with the flagstaff. 1 will show you
on a plan. One window looks out upon
the courtyard where will put up the
scaffold. The other | down the cliff
to the sea—a little window with big iron |
bars. It is ninety metres—a hundred of | and we came to be driving th h the
your feet—to the beach, straight down;
but half-way there is a ledge. I know—
flow! Kary: There is a crevice on the
crevice. I know who put it there.” He
smiled and made a sweep with
“You are used to risking your life?” I
suggested.
“It is what our lives are for! I shall
take tools under my priest's robe that
night; and a ladder of cord; only cord,
but strong. It will be fifty feet. I can
hide no greater. It is enough. It will
reach the ledge. We shall remove a bar
with my tools, and fix the ladder to the
other bar. Then we shall go down to the
i It is so simple!” He smiled at us
his head on one side. “From the
down by the other lad-
foot of the sea. If there we
boat? And if the boat should
find a ? Then— poof!” He blew harbor under the fortress. There were
ond rigged. tide toe Tout of | oa ror By Be we at a
a at
the cliff.” i to eleven. lights of the
“The Prince, of course, will come,” said come,
Vera. She looked straight at him, but he
dig Zot Be ey slow! 1 shall
. course,” Y, !
madness.”
come; but I know that it is
“It is madness.” I agree; “but that has
nothing to do with the
i
i
and a rope ladder is hidden in the
his
question.
“Nothing at all,” said Darrell and
Joynder and Richardson,
“Then there will be five revolvers for
he patrol,” the little pale man conclud-
“Six,” said Vera.
“Nonsense!” said L
ashore, girlie.”
“It is my right to share the risk,” she
“Yes,” 1
“You can't come
1
to come,” I
to come,”
Vera repeated. There was a great fear
eyes.
We went to his cabin. Th2 door was
broke it open. He lay on
his bed u Joynder knelt down
and examined him. He is a doctor. The
Prince was he , and
would be unconscious for many hours.
Vera clasped her hands and gave a sharp
cry. She was standing behind us in the
doorway.
“He il have taken something for his
neuralgia,” she said; “and taken too
.
: “but not to to increase | much. He—he must have meant to
it. You would only hadicap us—and him ' come.”
“Five, then,” she sighed.
"Seven," corrected the little gray man,
“if all goes well.
our Frank and myself.
covers many thin,
themselves that
They have fast Ebon, and
A priest's cloak
be; and the day
you when to come.”
“They will watch the cables,” the Prince
“A
gently, “would only cable to his
what any one may read. He ma
money or vestments or books; or
ask for Brother Anselm or Brother Cle-
need
ment, or—for a blessing on his work. The © “And betrayed
superior may cable to a merchant in Lon- back you will understand.”
don; and the merchant may cable to you.
There shall be a code that I will teach
you.”
He taught us the code and other things
we
under a jutting rock, and where
and where we could lurk in
hiding.
“And that I may know if you are there,”
he said, "you | make me a signal; for
what is the use to risk my old neck, if it
will not profit him? His Highness can
make the call of a seagull; one that has
young in its nest. Our Frank has told
me this of him. Let him make the cry
three times, counting five between; slow-
ly—so!”
“And if by any chance his Highness
should not be there?” I asked.
“Then his Highness will be dead,” said
Richardson: and I thought it not unlike-
ly. We loved our Frank.
“He might be ill,” I explained, smooth-
ly. “It is best to provide for all things.”
“So!” the little pale man assented.
“Learn you, then, to make the sound, if
you can. I shall know the difference, but
they may not.”
“I will learn,” I promised.
“And then,” he asserted, “we will both
come to you, if your Frank can come b
any help of mine. If he cannot will
come alone, if I can, and you shall judge
me, if I have notdone my best. Forlives
shall count for little when we meet again.”
He bowed and went. Three weeks later
the cable came. We had it one afternoon.
There was a margin of barely one day.
In the evening we sailed. e Prince
was out when we went to fetch him, and
had not left word of his movements, as
was agreed, but we found him, and he
came. Perhaps he feared us. Certainly
he feared Vera, or to be shamed in her
eyes. Anyhow, he came. :
On the second morning, before it was
light, the captain came to my cabin and
roused me, and stood by my bed, jocking
his shoulder. There was a traitor aboard,
he whispered. He had gone on the bridge
at eight bells—which was four o'clock, in
the time of sailormen—and he had seen
from the starsthat the course was wrong.
So he had examined the compass, and
found a magnet under thccard! By run-
ning off the course we had lost some forty
miles. He had ordered the officer of the
watch to set a man on guard by the com-
pass with a revolver.
“You had better not tell her,” he sug-
gested, and the shoulder jerked quickly;
“only your friends.”
e four of them?” I looked at him.
“The three of them,” he co
The next day the engines broke down
and lost us fifteen hours. of the
thinner parts of the machinery had been
filed through, the chief engineer reported,
so that they would succumb to the strain
of the working. It must have been done
the day before we started, for he had in-
Spected those very parts the day before
t.
“By an amateur or by a skilled me-
chanic?” 1 asked.
“By a very skilled mechanic,” he stat-
ed; “one of the men who were employed
to overhau! the machinery, no doubt.
Some one must have bribed him. . . .
Well, we can put it right, and it won't
occur asain. f oy — to bribe
any of my men, they i im among
the ai He laughed a short
fierce laugh. “If you know any one who
is likely to try you can warn him!”
“I don't think we will warn him,” said
the captain. “Thank you, Donaldson.”
The chief went and the captain looked
at me. His shoulder jerked furiously.
lish
“If the little girlie weren't aboard,” he
said, “we should know what to do.”
"We shall know what to do,” I told
him, “when the time comes.”
We looked at each other and nodded.
We were old men, and did not waste the
breath left to us.
So our margin of time was eaten up,
fog at full speed.
e went on for two hours longer, then
we slowed down and took
They could not find bottom, so
on at three-quarter speed for three
hours, sounding after each. Then
lead touched, and we judged that
the island, for we
that the of the ocean rose
round it. Westeamed a little
i
! ried him to the boat; and I stood alone |
I shall take arms for | with Vera. : :
“Do you think,” I asked, "that, in years
! It is not the patrol to come, if our Frank were lost to us—do
fear, but the alarm. you think that you might have married
i
{
i
|
|
i
t
|
|
{
i
1
and | and he
“He shall come,” 1 said. I nodded to
the others, and they lifted him and car-
him?”
“I think,” she said, “that he might have
wanted me to. I think— Uncle Fred?"
| (I am no uncle, but she calls me so.) | pal
. Iwill cable to! “You don’t think—? You don’t think?”
She caught at my arm.
“Some one tampered with the compass
on the bridge," I said. “Some one tam-
priest," said the little pale man, 'pered with the machinery that broke
superior
down. Perhaps some one betrayed our
Frank at the beginning, and has betrayed
may him now at the
“And betrayed you!”
us.
She turned
white and reeled. I took her in my arms
and sat her down. ;
“If that is so,” she said, slowly, “you
must not go. You were ready to risk
your lives to save his. You are his friends
would have done the same for
you; but to throw them away for nothing
—I am the guardian of his honor as well
as his life; and I who love him tell you
not to go.”
“We
£0.
shall go,” I said. "God bless you,
girlie dear. . . . Mydearchild. . . . The
child of a childless man. . . .
She swayed and fainted. I laid her on
the bed, kissed her forehead, and left her
there.
“If we do not come back,” I told the
captain, “or if you are attacked, you must
get away and save her.”
“And if he comes back and youdo not?”
he asked.
“He will not,” I said.
He nodded and jerked his shoulder and
shook my hand, and I went down to the
boat. I took the tiller; Richardson sat
in the bows; Darrell and Joynder rowed.
The Prince lay at my feet. The unlit
ship grew dim in the mist and disappear-
ed. e
and nearer, and we heard the waves
break on the beach.
We found the rock and the ring to tie
up our boat, as we had been «ld by the
little pale man. We tied up the Prince's
hands also, and then we landed, and
lurked behind the boulders that we recog-
nized from a drawing that the little pale
man had given us. I made the cry three
times—the cry of the seagull with young
in its nest—counting five between. It
was then nearly twelve. When the clock
in the fortress had struck I made the cry
again. The patrol passed soon afterward.
They were not three yards distant, but
they passed on without seeing us, talking
ot laughing—four men with rifles on
their shoulders. Presently 1 made the
cry again. Soon afterward a man came
toward us through the mist; only one—
the little pale man. We rose, but he mo-
tioned us back and joined us behind the
boulders.
“So!” he said. “The Prince has not
the cry.”
I asked.
come. I knew by
“Where is Frank?"
“Is he aboard?” he demanded, without
answering me. “The Prince?”
“No,” I told him.
hen I cannot save you, Frank,” he
said.
“Could you have saved him if the Prince
were here?” | n
“Yes.” , He nodded gravely. “I will tell
ou. You may wo that I put my
ife iu your hands; but I have never been
afraid to put my life in the Lands of hon-
orable gentlemen. I will tell you all. I
am of the secret service. It was I who
took your Frank. We did not want to
take him, but we had to. His brother,
whom we wanted, escaped and betrayed
him. Perhaps you can guess why?”
“We can guess why,” I answered.
“Also he yed this rescue of yours
—not knowing that we knew of it already.
He wrote to Em, himself, and the
Em knew the though he tried
to disguise it."
| " | said, “there is no doubt
about the hand.”
“It has been examined by experts.
There is no doubt at all; and if it were
not his hand I should have no doubt that
he sent it. There is no doubt in the
ell, our Em
good; and
inces; it should be the older one; and
then the foolish, ided boy need only
be banished. He would marry his Eng-
half- | Frank
I looked at my comrades and my com-
rades looked at me. I nodded and they
nodded to.
“Now," I said, "It is my turn to tell a
“We behead,” said the little
“We do not hang.” He
man.
his hands.
If we do not come
lights of the fortress grew nearer |
T
i
]
hospital at my hands.”
i like a drink,” said Richard-
son. “This has been a
| "By Jove, yes!" said Yoynder He
| lauglied Cutigusly,
“I"ve been wondering if I was afraid or
wasn't,” Darrell confessed.
; “But you are not afraid to trust your-
| selves with me?” the little pale man sug-
| “We have no reason to be afraid to
, trust ourselves in the hands of an honor-
; able gentleman,” I told him. And though
| he was an agent of the secret service, I
. knew the little pale man for that.
+ He blew a little whistle and the patrol
came swiftly and took the traitor from
. the boat, and went away with him; and
! we went with the little pale man. We
passed through great iron gates and up
! stone staircases; and in a large room as
| we sat at a table with wine to our hands
| they brought our Frank to us. He had
! grown a little less of a careless boy, and a
| little more of a thoughtful! man; but it
; was the same dear old Frank who loved
‘his friends and whose friends loved
him—the Frank who was worthy to mate
; with our Vera.!
“The little girlie,” he asked. “The lit-
tle girlie?”
| “Aboard the yacht,” | said, “wziting for
“God bless her!” he said; and we bowed
and said Amen. Sometimes I think that
womer like Vera do not need God's bless-
ing. They are the blessings that he
sends to us.
“And—and—" he looked at the little
e man.
“And you should forget that you had a
brother,” said the little man.
“Is there no way of saving him?” he
asked, with a shudder.
“None,” said the little man.
i “And if there were I would not save
him,” I said; “not even for your sake, my
dear boy.”
“Nor 1,” said Darrell and Joynder and
Richardson.
Then they escorted us down to our
boat, and we got in. The mist had cleared
and the stars shone in the sky, and the
moon made a long track across the wat-
ers. The ship lay black in the moonlight.
At the top of the ladder a girl in white
waited. He stood up that she might see
him sooner, and waved his hand.
“Frank!” shecried. “Frank! ... Are
they all safe—our friends?”
It was like our Vera to remember us
even then.—By Owen Oliver, in Harper's
Weekly.
Washing a Tiger.
A French animal-trainer at St. Peters-
burg hired a poor Cossack, who was as
ignorant of the French language as he
was of fear, to clean the cages of the wild
beasts,
Instructions were given to the man by
means of gestures and dumb show, and
what he was expected to do.
The next morning he began his new
duties by entering with bucket, sponge,
and broom, not the Cafe of a tame beast,
but that of a splendid tiger, which lay
asleep on the floor. The fierce animal
| awoke and fixed his eyes upon the man,
who calmly proceeded to wet his large
sponge and, unterrified, approached the
tiger.
At this moment the trainer proprietor
saw what was going on and was struck
with horror. Any sound or motion on
his part would increase the danger of the
situation by arousing the beast to fury, so
he quietly waited till the need should rise
to rush to the man’s assistance.
The
ed the animal and, perfectly fearless, pro-
ceeded to rub him down as if he had been
a horse or a dog; while the tiger, appar-
ently delighted by the application of cold
water, rolled over on its back, stretched
out its paws, purred, and offered every
ed him as complacently as a mother
bathes her infant,
Then he left the cage and would have
repeated the hazardous experiment upon
another savage beast had not the trainer
with difficulty drawn him off.
The Mystery of India-ink.
There are many manufacturers all over |
the world who would like very much to,
become possessed of the Chinese secret |
formula for the making of India-ink, al
formula which has been handed down in |
the Flowery Kingdom for many - |
factured pretty much the same today as |
it was in the time of Chen Ki Somer,
who is said to have invented the
The oil is pressed from the seeds of a!
certain plant and set tosimmer, while the |
workman adds a mixture of powdered’
i
ther powders.
When the simmering is ended the prod-
uct is filtered and set aside for a long,
time to settle. Then it is put into ny
earthen dishes, each of which has a {
made of reed. A great quantity of these
little dishes are set on bricks, and over
each is placed a funnel-shaped clay cover.
Then the wicks are lit, and the soot pro-
duced by the burning mass is caught in-
So delicate an operation does this con-
stitute that the workmen are actually
obliged to observe the slightest change in
the weather, lest a slight variation in.
temperatiry make a big difference in the |
quality of the soot. e finest soot is
in rooms that are airtight.
Why Iron Rusts.
British investigators estimate that the
rails of a single railway system in Eng-
land lose eighteen tons in t every
day, and that the larger part of this loss
is due to the effects of rust. The problem
of rust is of great economical im|
“the
not only because of such losses as
Just in a ooh i iron
great expense invol in nting
and steel structures in order to
them. Thus $10,000 a is spent in
painting the great Scotch bridge over the
orth. Recent experiments indicate that
pure iron in the presence of pure oxygen
does not rust. It to be
for the production of rust that some
notably carbonic acid, shall be presen
When iron is subjected to the action
water containing traces of acid, and
the presence of a oxygen, it
always rusts. The rapid rusting of iron
in railroad stations is ascribed to the
of sulphuric acid derived from '
the smoke of locomotives. |
—Don't dose your chickens.
Don't get toc large a setting for the
hen.
your hen houses dry and secure
a damp winds.
ger
apparently he thoroughly understood
Cossack, sponge in hand, approach-
part of its body to the moujik, who wash- |
* idly failing hi
genera
tions. Indeed, India-ink in China is manu- | ¢
Be sure your hen actually wants to
mother a flock before you set her.
A Simple Aeroplane Model Brought
The one-ounce model, wkich has been
brought to such perfection in England, is
one of simplest aeroplanes to build.
” These models have a record of 1,500 feet-
The adjustment is extremely delicate, how-
ever, asit is a very “tricky” affair to
manage, and whether you can get the re-
markable flight made abroad is another
matter. For the stick, select 2 piece of
straight-grained ash or semz light wood
three feet in | h and one quarter of
an inch sjuare. The planes should be cut
from a thin board one-sixt:enth of an inch
thick. The main plane stould measure
six inches by one inch, and the smaller
plane three inches by three fourths of an
inch, thus giving them an aspect
ratio of about six. They should taper
slightly toward the ends. Round off the
corners of both planes and sandpaper
down the edges. If the wood will stand
it, work it ni, using a sharp hand
plane or sand-paper. The planes should
be bent by steaming slightiy across the
middle, and setat a slight dinedral an-
gle.
The model is driven most efficiently by
a 6-inch propeller. If it be a one-piece
blade, prepare a propeller blank 6 inches
by 1 inch, cut trom a half-inch board.
Cut away to the thinnest possible blade.
Use a very simple support for your pro-
peller shaft as well as for the motor an-
chorage at the extreme forward end. The
planes should be tied with rubber strands
to the stick and glued in position when
properly adjus! Try out your model
with a motor consisting of four
of one-eighth-inch rubber, and increase,
if necessary. You will need all your in-
genuity and skill in workmanship to con-
struct a stable model even of so simple a
design which will come within one ounce. |
Throw it with the wind.
A model which rises unassisted re-
quires considerable power, and your
pellers should have 10-inch blades be
carved from blanks one inch thick. You
may find it advisable later on to install
propellers with very broad blades. First
install motors of considerable power, each
consisting of twelve or fourteen one-
eighth inch rubber strips. You will not
get more than 300 or 400 turns out of
them, but with a high-pitch propeller this
will give you an excellent flight, = 200
feet. —From Francis R. Collins's “Model
Aeroplanes of 1911” in August St. Nicholas.
The Strength of Insects.
Nothing is more wonderful to investi-
gators than the display of strength in in-
sects compared with that in man.
Ants will carry loads f: or fifty times
as heavy as themselves. e beetle can
move a weight one hundred and twelve
times his own weight. The house-fly
gives six hundred strokes of its wings in
one second, and this enables it togo a
distance of thirty-five feet.
Probably the most wonderful of all is
the dragon-fly. It can speed through the
air at the rate of sixty miles an hour,
and, more wonderful still, can stop in-
stantaneously in its flight or move back-
ward or sideways without changing the
position of its body.
Hundreds of bees can hang one to
another without tearing away the feet of
the upper one.
It has been estimated that if an ele-
phant were as strong in proportion to its
weight as a male beetle it would be able
to overturn a “skyscraper.”
In leaping great distances this strength
is shown in another phase. If a horse
could jump as far in proportion to its
weight as a flea can to his, the horse
would jump about two thousand miles.
A Woman's Story.
A woman's story is very often a story
of suffering if it deals with the period of
maternity. A great many such stories
have begun with suffering and ended with
smiles of happiness because Dr. Pierce's
Favorite Prescription had cured the pain
and restored the health. The following is
one woman's
Mrs. W. J. Kidder, of Hill Dale Farm
(Enosburg Centre,) Enosburg, Vt., writes:
“Your kindly advice and medicines have
brought me great relief. During the past
yea
found myself t and in ra
th. dreadilly
from bloating and urinary difficulty.
was growing weaker each day and suffer-
ed much sharp pain at times. I felt that
something must be done. [I sought your
advice and received a prompt reply. took
twelve bottles of Dr. Pierce's Favorite
Prescription, and also followed your an
began to improve immedi-
ately, my health became excellent, and I
could do ali my own work (we live on a
good sized farm.) I walked and rode all
could, and enjoyed it. I had a short,
easy confinement, and have a healthy
baby boy.”
Treasury Profits.
The government profits slightly by the
destruction of stamps which have been
paid for, and the Treasury gets the bene-
fit of bills which are lost and never
found,
A larger source of irregular profit lies
in the failure of bondholders to present
their bonds for redemption. Unclaimed
money in the Treasury due to bondhold-
amounted to nearly a million dollars
r
and
a loan which fell due in 1900 a
unclaim-
hundred million thirty-year four-per-cent.
bonds came due on July 1st. in-
ducements were offered to secure earl
redemption, at the end of that mon!
thirteen mi dollars still stood in the
treasury on that account, although inter-
est had ceased.
A yo mother livi
recently a hersel
in New York,
in agony at the
ve
the sum is much greater |:
FOR AND ABOUT WOMEN.
DAILY THOUGHT.
Give thy thoughts no tongue.
Nor any unproportioned thought his act.
Be thou familiar. but by no means vulgar.
Those friends thou hast and their adoption
tried.
Grappel them to thy soul with hooks of steel
But donot dull thy palm with entertainment.
Of each unhatched, unfledged comrade. Be-
ware
Of entrance to a quarrel, but, being in,
Bear 't that the opposed may beware of thee.
Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice.
Take each man's census, but reserve thy
judgment.
Costly thy habit to thy purse can buy,
But not expressed in fancy; rich, not gaudy;
For the apparel oft proclaims the man.
— Shakespeare.
Would you be beautiful? Then be
healthy. After eating, sleepi breath-
ing and exercising ¥, drinking
plenty of puse, pol water DEAR yeas
here may yet arise some slight indispo-
sition. Such illo 25 5 it, LOD oo.
ily to treatments which our grandmoth-
ers were always to administer.
We might well st the value of herb
teas for the good of our health and com-
plexion just as did. Teas may be
made from those old-fashioned herbs now
which our grandmothers used so general-
ly. Lime leaf tea makes one sleep, for it
calms the nerves, and should be taken
after dinner instead of coffee; mint tea, or
camomile, helps the digestion. Blackber-
rv tao water, oi os
i roa mixture -
Bike by a real herbalist, Pon
[ond ai gives a clear skin and bright
i In fact, many of the minor ills from
which one suffers, could be cured with
| the most simple and natural remedies
: culled from the fields and hedgerows.
Summer toys for children may sound
like an exaggeration of the facts, but they
work out very well in Mothers
| nly heed to held the wouly Teddy bears
| and the fuzzy billikins, now the delight of
childhood’s playhouse, to realize the -
fit of the summer toy.
Wise mothers try substituting one of
! the unbreakable dolls so lifelike and so
| satisfactory in that childish hearts are not
broken with dolly’s head, or childish tears
| shed with the shedding of dolly’s fascinat-
| ng yellow ii A
miniature t and spade, a little
red wagon, any odd plaything, can be
| made to take the place of Teddy for a
time. But best of all, both for baby’s dis-
position and baby’s health, is a nice cool
of sand, a pair of blue rompers and
the privilege of playing without restraint.
Altogether fascinating are the new coat
suits. Stripes appear in many of them.
In plain fabrics these stripes are in two-
tone effects. For the stripe of contrast-
ing colors, there's a blurry hairiness of
weave which relieves the hardness,a hard-
ness especially striking in black and
white. All these new stripes are narrow,
about an eighth of an inch. The olive
and black stripe is scheduled for a favor-
ite. Just now, however, the magpie com-
bination is more appealing, with its clean,
cool look. Deepest navy serge will be
the autumn standby and very smart it is,
trimmed with braid and buttons.
Black velveteen, which was the rage
last winter, is to be even more so this.
One new black velveteen coat suit may
well be described. The coat is somewhat
square, altogether snug, and is finger-tip
length. There's a clever shawl collar,
shaped in a rounded point at the back
and reaching below the waist line at the
front. This is edged with chenille fringe,
each strand being finished with a jet bead
the size of a pea. This same fringe is at
the foot of the little panel let into the left
side of the skirt. The snug skirt is cut
with a flounce, shaped up a bit at the
sides in pointed effect. There's some
braiding in panel effect at the foot of the
skirt, and the coat is b broadly at
the front and the back, from just above
the waist line downward.
Autumn chic is seen in a suit made of
the new black and white stri suiting.
It resembles the old Pedford cord, save
that there's a blurred, woolly effect.
ue sit is jaa gs pan. the Skint as
well as . coat a
slender, box effect. oth fac-
ings of the rather deep collar and the rev-
ers match the soft satin lining in color.
On one fascinating example they are of a
wonderfully soft and beautiful medium
blue. For another an equally attractive
dull petunia purple has served.
Ginger Snaps.—One cupful and a half
each of molasses and brown sugar, one
cupful of melted shortening—butter or
cupful of hot coffee,
soda mixed with
The messes are
——*] started out on the theory that
the world had an opening for me.”
“Did you find it? “
“Oh yes; I'm in a hole.