MEN© MMIO NEVER Wrn SPEAK TfiAPPJST S-10SiH<5 ~ TIE Trappist monastery of Geth- Eemane, twelve miles from Ueardstown, Ky„ Is esi>ecially interesting now because of the expulsion of the religious or ders front Portugal and their immi nent expulsion from Spain, which will drive many of them to seek refuge in this country. The expulsion of the re ligious orders from France a few years ago sent many monks and nuns to America and Ehgiand and resulted in the establishment of monasteries and convents in various places. The members of the Trappist order are pledged to silence for the remainder j of their days. It is the Order of the Silent Brotherhood. The abbey of Gethsemane is a eelf sustaining institution. Everything its I monks require is raised or made 011 the 2,000 acres of beautiful Kentucky farm country that surrounds the mon astery. And not only are they forbid- I den to spoak to anyone, but they are not allowed to read anything except the old books in the monastery library. Even letters or newspapers are not allowed to enter the silent place. It is doubtful if three men in the abbey j know the name of the president of the 1 i'nlted States or the governor of Ken j tucky, All tender and sympathetic emotions which in thin life visit the human heart are suppressed. The dtaths of nearest and dearest rela fives are never announced to them. Forgotten by the worl I, they them selves forget the world. Among their nuinher are many men of distinguished careers, many who have borne titles A once celebrated op> ratie tenor died among the monks a few years ago. The son of the founder of the fatuous Sunnybrook dis till* ry. who squander* d nearly half a million in less tit an a year, Is a mem ber of the order. A farmer who drove th< writer over to the monastery from liardstown, and who knows more about the monks than anyone the country round. t» inted out the 112 irmer ("mint do liottrbon, Baron de Hatimor and o ■ ir lta< b.-tetg um ihey left the Kale there are many ethers, equally 1 In:,.oran 1 in their . arly .lass, la ti.la living tomb The orilj rooms In the aljh.»y that ar» comfortably furntsiied are the littmr and ihe abbot's apartment A! »h. (.It. r rooms sr. pert. t|y b*r« e*e*>pi t 1 v..1. n iubl. ami chairs ai d lUMIcal Inserlptb ii i.ti i|,w wall*. Th.r. I* a musty o/t.tr that ttreiM* to pervade e»er> thing, and it Is g gr.-at rwtlef to 10 < out Into 1 h>t wougst. ry Hard. II With In «. .. 111.1r1.i11 t1o». r fi'.ln and 1 Grille.l The moat aitrae lit' | it of the abte-y I.tin 2.11 >9 aer.H of land, * hit It mm*!*!* of wood rd hll . field* win re hniidr> If. tt lie 1 |t.| mine .112 the iti„ I far,, I.g e. urn try In tli» «ti«i .112 Km link, j Th« Trappla's are «>«->. I firiior: Th«y ! Mian loahe buu« r sad rhena»> j •<>atr of whirl* Is sold it tin- a arl>< t* Ut I t till >lll - tiili rs go lw listbf.»iii».it« au> Ilardslowt, the wajvH lowa, , is twelve miles away, making a visit a rather difficult task. Years ago, when James Lane Allen wrote "The White Cowl," his descriptions of the abbey brought many visitors there from all over the United States, but today the monastery is almost forgot ten by the outside world. When the members of the order die they are laid to rest in the little cemetery out side the monastery walls. There tho original founders of the abbey are buried. The abbey owes Its direct origin to the abbey of La Mellleraye, in the department of Loire-Inferieure, France. The abbot of tho latter institution made an arrangement with the French government back in the early forties to lay the foundation for a monastery of their order on property situated on the island of Martinique, given to I &ry A Trappist Farmer. them by l.oui.t Philippe. After th«* downfall ul the monarchy the original plan was abandoned In favor of u col ony In the I'nlted tftattt*. and this w as established at Getln . mane In IMS ! he TrappM order wa -s founded In the twelfth . • tttury Union, count of I'. 1 t-ln*. built the abbey of Notr*» Maine i|e la Maistm |t|eii <|e ia Trappi In 11 to at Holiday la Trappe, a vlllgjpt j of Haute pi r« he, <|< partmeiit of the fir' e, nan . d l a Trapp* afi.T the nar row (forgi whi h forms Its entrance, comparable to a irap >l«»or Imrint the middle ag. s the monaster. was eiipttired and pillaged many times, and ll msn not until the middle of th«t r.eUteellth r.lilurv thai the 1 fib . v. a put mi a ttrin hauls mid n r«-«d to other Isn.l* I lit 11 Napoleon bream* • nti.. itn.i t \pelted tb >111 from the conn try. A visit to tb') latter abbe) U llgv l»|i|ili'K l.a. k a thou and viwir < lino lbs 1.. I there In fciiotl.fr lutmu* I r 11.|.t ii.i i»i' n mi (i. 4 q it nllM front Montreal, i.'auada. CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, DECEMBER 22, 1910. E "s~ 1 April Rain By EDITH GRAY Copyright, lyio, by Associated Literary Press From the far length of the meadow lane, the woman heard the persist ent coo-coo ol some one calling to the bossies from beyond. Without, the April rain dripped ceaselessly from the window frame and a branch of one of the orchard trees creaked mournfully as the wind moved it with gentle monotony back and forth beneath the eaves. It was a dull day and a heavy one, with no suggestion of brightness. The growing darkness seemed to disturb the woman at her desk, for after insistent urging onward of flagging pencil, and closer stooping over enshadowed pages, she suddenly rose from her work and walked im patletly toward the window. She flung back the lattice, ostensibly seeking more light, but with the simple change of cramped position she immediately realized that she was unusually tired, fatigued in body and brain. Mindless of the soft drizzle, she knelt upon the floor, her head upon her hands, gazing out ward toward the distant haze of woodland beyond the rain-soaked fields. She was tired —she fully realized that. She also knew that she was unspeakably foolish to kneel there upon the floor while the cold pene trated to the very marrow of her bones. Spring rain was lovely enough and undoubtedly poetical, when viewed from the other side of an old-time dormer window. The woman knew that she was imprudent, yet she laughed at the outer chill, for, with the relaxation from mental labor, the cold empti ness within her heart overwhelmed her with a fearsome blight, compared with which the outer dreariness was as naught. It was all very well to write —to go off when town pleasures began to interfere with concentration on art, to bury herself at this old farm, away from the annoyances of flatter ing acquaintances, in order to gain full control of latent faculties —all very well theoretically, but, for all practical purposes, it was dreary and unutterably lonely at times. In spite of repeated commands, old friends would persist in writing and renewing old scenes, stirring up memories that would otherwise have died, long since. It was lonely when she compared her fame, her several novels and the tiny book of verse, the drama yet to be, and the stories of her dreams, with the love, the warmth and comfort which she had sacrificed for them. Was it worth the price? Then, in spite of an afternoon spent in fierce determination to for get, the words of a disturbing little note, received a few days before, flared, as in letters of fire, across her wearied brain. "Dear, 1 have found where you have hidden away. 1 would not hurt you I by my presence, but write if you j want me. I will come," It said. The woman knew that this man's j words rang true; that as he spoke, j so would he act. She valued real j worth and she realized that in spite j of the flowery blandishments of her many followers, this man with his j frank simplicity, his marvelous ten- | derness, was spiritually as well as ! physically head and shoulders above them all. She cherished and won dered at his friendship, but his love she had always feared. It was so strong. She trembled, lest In aban- ! doning herself to her ever growing j desire, she lose her art—and losing her art. her self, the keynote to her own development. She dropped her head upon her arms, abandoning her self to the old questioning, the old despair. And without the rain poured down, renewing its strength, no long ! er the mist intangible, but the beat- i ing of all elements. For long she knelt, then raised her head as over the green fields re- ' counded again the coo-coo of the homing call. Joseph, the farmer's son, had a ; wondrous voice, full ton< d, power fully sweet. She remembered how, I at the Sunday worship a few days ! before, his flawless rendering of the rlinple hymns had filled her heart with p« ace, mid how at her question- : Ing. the proud mother had confided that Joseph's voice hud charmed Von fltahl. th<' i"reat musician from the city, lie had tested Joseph during hU cummer's visit and promised grtat things if hi- would but go with him hack to th.- city. *nut h.» will n< ver go,"the mother hud said. and shrugged her shoulders i a. with annoyaiK. us she pottered on .iboiit her work What reason could he have for re fusliiK tie- gi'ul Von Ktahl's so gen erous ofTi r? Was it entirely si U | id ity, or was there some duper cau->u foi hi ilHlifft relict: to this op pur t. lilt y for belli rment * iti'lii'A iii thi orchard no* the boy •a* letting down t|i' bars 'lite «ouian wai. b d, through a break In the in «. as Hi.- eattl. wand.rt-d ~„II tetiledly onward, steaming dripping, I hew ing eternal!) as th. y si roll. <1 Hln M«ill< .1 al I lie *w kwitldllea* of tin tiny, ili Ipplng i a|f ihlnga, and the motki rs noting them a» thi y • < nt two coo/ lullin a harsher Voice 'rum th. direction of the bum and 'he hoy put bai'k the bars and wills tln| a* he wmk.J Tttu lie reached upward with his great strong arms, and with the care and insight of an artist selected a slender spray of soft pink blossoms. He shook away the great hanging drops, and a few pe tals drifted behind him as he came, his huge boots slushing through the rain-bowed grasses, his heavy shoul ders swaying as he walked. He was but a peasant youth, but —the woman marveled! What a light was in liiß eyes as he held the dripping blos soms to his face! The rain was softer now. The mist above the trees was vanishing. Be neath the eaves, a tiny, bedraggled sparrow hopped and chirped expect antly. The sky had grown brighter, the rain had ceased, and the little sparrow proffered a cheery, heart felt thrill to the fresh-washed world. And as the darkness lifted, a door below the left wing of the great kitchen extension opened and from her window the woman smiled as little Elsa, the rosy-cheeked dairy maid, held her two chubby palms Out ward, testing the weather. How charming was that sixteen-year-old bit of German simplicity and child like innocence! She was like the spring, the flowers! The boy Joseph stood beside the flaxen-haired maid, and, with uncon scious, gallantry, offered her the fra grant branch which he had selected but a moment since. "Elsa,"' he said, "for you." She took the flowers, but her eyes gazed wistfully at the sun-browned face above her. "I thank you," she said, in her pretty broken German; "I thank you, Joseph, and I want to say now—l have decide." Had the woman known what mo mentous thing it was that Elsa had decided she would have gune back to her desk. Yet, so quickly had Elsa spoken her verdict that she could hardly avoid the astonishing revelation. "I have decide," said Elsa again. "1 have decide, Joseph. You are too — too much for me to marry. I thought you were just a farmer, but I learn, oh so bitterly, that you are a great singer; that if you goto the city and do not marry me, you will bo a line gentleman some day. Joseph, I will not marry you now." The boy was quick in his reply— startlingly so to the woman who had looked upon him as a boorish coun try lad. Without hesitancy, he said, suddenly clutching the chubby little hands: "No, Elsa. you will not marry me now, but when I am rich and can take care of you, my wife, my little girl, do you hear?" I'.ut the sweet blue eyes were still troubled and the tears began to flow, great and round, welling over the rosy cheeks. "Joseph," she said. "I think you | love roe well, but you must be a great | artist, a musician like my brother I Fritz at home. Fritz always says: 'A ! great artist must not marry. He j must think always of his art —he | have no time for love.'" "He have no time for love!" The I heart of the woman contracted in sudden wonder and unconsciously ! she held her breath and leaned for ward. eager and alert, to see how this boy would deal with this much debated question. "Elsa, Elsa—one thing I know — : that love is a far greater thing than | that you would call art." His arms were about her now, and I the woman turned away, strangely abashed before this great and simple tenderness. For long she sat upon the floor, examining the secret places of her I inmost soul. When she raised her | head, the light of the setting sun, breaking through a rift in the west ern clouds, caught and made of every drop of dew a globe of mystic light. She threw back her head and breath | ed in all the clean, sweet freshness jof the world. Then she rose and ex j tended her ar.ua us in strange new fre< dom. When she found ink mid paper In "lie dusky shadows of her desk, she managed to write, though the tears , streamed fast, a few words, which tor all the blurring and the blots, a certain man, now so far away, was soon able to read, in overwhelming ru| tel.' of understanding and sym pathy: "Love Is tlt.- great.*! of all arts, dear, Come!" Those Capsule Stamps. With anger Hanliing from her eye a tall matron entered a -South aide ding stun- one evening recently and d>- maud of the 11, rk an accounting for mi, iie> which her Hull' Imy had *p<-lit for stamp* iind no tlicine "lie tut |lie quinine all right," re piled the clerk "and he got the stamps out «»f the slot machine I put hU money in for him " "What hl.il mat blue?" inquired the woman High! ovi-r there," pointed the I. it.in. lamps come out nicely I 4.1 U.K.. 1 11. it'll, gelatlm rapaulee" The woman gave a g.np of >oi. .ier I noun.. .1 tor a<'oui» a veritable Napobmi of eommereu ll*- had read »oiu<-«h*re that opportunl ties were not found but made, ami re •ul«r.|, thei>wry po« stblff ch«l4'*e of auguivullng his bus! IrM He was rending the latest , .|i lion of the lot a I evening papei one MgM when be ••pled Ihu follow ing adwrtleemi ut Kaotkltigiunlan Kuoi hers' fouiUtU atub result•• >Ui»» j castlle. Its effect !s sometimes highly desirable with persona to whom caatlla la positively Injurious. Various washing powders, so-called soap substitutes, are good, but so elab orate to make that few care togo to the trouble of making them. As a rule their basis Is ground almonds, and un less one has all the utensils with which to work it becomes absolutely Impractical to prepare the powder properly. Nevertheless, one that has stood high In favor since before the time of our grandmothers Is made from eight ounces each of Jordan almonds, blanched and ground, and wheat flour, two ounces of powdered orris root, one-eighth of an ounce of oil of lemon and one dram of oil of bitter almonds. The mixture, after It has been care fully combined. Is kept In a tightly covered glass Jar. To use, the hands are wet, and about a teaspoonful of the powder Is put Into the palm, the hands being then well rubbed. It Is cleansing, as well as softening and refining. IN FASHION. Example of the New Greek Coiffure. SECRET OF GOOD HOSTESS Carefully to Plan Details and Make Guests Feel Welcome and Comfortable. The secret of the successful hostess Is to make her guests feel welcome and aa comfortable as possible, and to carefully plan out and arrange every detail before the actual day; then should things go wrong it will be by the merest accident. If she is giving an Informal tea and the callers are not likely to exceed twelve the tea should be served in tha drawing room, pouring it out herself and Intrusting the delivery of the cups and small cakes to a girl friend or gen tleman visitor, should the husband not be present. If the number increases beyond this it is better to serve tea In the dining room. In any case the best available china should be used, spotless napery and glistening silver. Lace-edged and embroidered doilies should be placed on the plates which hold the cakes and dainty sandwiches. We are told tho ideal hostess Is born, not made, but even if the little fairy forgot tho gift of hospitality at our birth it would .jeem the duty of every woman to cultivate this art. We are also told that "practise I makes perfect," and after a little prac tise, if her endeavors are earnest, a woman will gain that envied reputa tion of being a "good hostess." Sewing Chatelaine. The lightest and most convenient of •ewlng cases Is a chatelaine formed of a long, narrow ribbon matching tho shade of the working dress and thread ed through a chain of gilt or Ivory rings. Tho ribbon la finished with clusters of narrower ribbon bows, from which hang scissors, thimble, plo and emery cushions, needle case, piercer, loops of embroidery, silk, etc. It is a pretty gift froui the embroid erer to the embroiderer. Think of It when Christmas rolls around and 'make it then of cheerful red ribbon, with green tinted Ivory rings Black Braid Popular. Never has the variety of black silk braid for trimming been so great. It ranges In width from the narrowest to a basket wea*e about six Inch „« In width. suitable for bodices. Sum* kinds of fur are combiued with the braids that the effect I* much like a ht avy lace and a fringe effect 1s also produced. Heautiful black silk twist ed cord comes as large us half an luck IU diameter and Is very •tfui'titu I for ensuing season Apply secretary," and so on H<*lslng hold of his wri ting Implements, the purveyor of gri'iis rapidly peniiml the following to the secretary; l>eur Mir In reply lo >our adiertlsement, I presume you rnijulre dates foi u»e at Ihs lunch In tervnl Kindly stat« whether you pre f* r (hem by th« stoue ur hundred we'ght, and | will give yuu rack but lent quotation .1 forthwith Yours to i oitiuiaud. flu in " Inform i>aiely the secretary s reply has uot been preserved Til Mil*