THE RED CROSS.
They too have heard the drum-Wat,
They follow the bugle's call.
These who are swift with pity
On the field where bra 1 ") men fall.
When the battle-boom is silent,
And the eohoing thunder dies,
They baste to the plaio red soduen
With tk-. blood of sacrifice.
The Bag that floats above them
Is marked with a crimson sign,
Pied 3 e of a great compassion
And the rifted heart divine,
That once for man's redemption
Knew earth's oompletest loss,
These to the field of valor
Bring love's immortal cross.
And so they follow the bugle.
And heed the drum-beat's call,
But thei- errand is one of pity—
They succor the men who fall.
—Harper's Bazar.
J THE YELLOW GOD. J
BY LEAVENWORTH MACNAB.
Tom Jenkins ran his hand through
the gold that lay heaped on the floor
of the shack. "Seems to me, Billy,"
he said, slowly, "that hopin' to find
It is better 'n findiu' it."
Dull gleams of light from a smoky
lantern fell athwart the face of the old
miner, rugged, homely, deep-furrowed
by time and hardships, and offering a
marked contrast, indeed, to the hand
some, patrician features of Billy
Bailey, his junior partner.
"Findiu', Billy, means quittin'.
{t's an end to the wants an' privations
've knowed for nigh twenty years.
But, somehow, I've come to like these
still ole mountains, an' the singin' of
the pines, an' the river. They've
growed like friends, an' I'm never
lonesome among 'em. Listen! you
;au hear 'em now. Maybe it's the las'
time they'll ever sing fer me."
"We're goiu' back to civ'lization,"
sontinued Tom, unheeding the other's
Jack of sympathy with his reminiscent
mood, "an' that means separation. I
know you like me, Billy. A feller
Couldn't want a better pardner than
rou've beeu fer the two year I've
kuowed you. But with yer eddica
tion, an' yer young blood, an' yer am
bitious, you ain't my kind in civ'liza
tion. We can't be the same down
Uiere. I couldn't expect it. But I
think a powerful deal of you, Billy.
"Oh, come, Tom," broke in his
sompauion, impatiently, "you're in
the dumps tonight. Tako a walk and
brace up. Should think you'd look
on the bright side of things now.
We've worked and starved in these
sursed wilds for gold, until at last
we've got it. Think of the city's ten
thousand pleasures that this stake can
buy for us. There's 110 life in these
solitudes. It's there in the crowded
•treets, and it can be ours when we've
got such a god—the god of gold—to
»ee us through."
Billy laughed gloatingly in anticipa
tion. Then once more he fixed his
eyes with a glittering intensity on the
yellow heap, which meant for him all
that life can mean to a selfish, love
lack nature.
"But it ain't fer me," persisted
Tom. "I'm past them things. If it
wa'n't fer the hope 01 findiu' the old
woman down there in Frisco nn' mak
lu' her comfortable, I'd stay. I don't
care fer the gold after al!. I've found
<t, an' luy hungeriu' fer it's satisfied."
Billy made no answer. He had
loug since become resigned to the di
rersity of their tastes, and tonight he
Iras in no mood for argument. He
got out some materials, and began to
repair a rent in his coat. Tom rose
presently, and dumped the nuggets
into a gunny-sack. Then he arranged
Uis blankets for the uight.
"Put it away safe, Billy," he said,
bculaiiy; "we're already on the edge
of civ'lization, an' must learn to be
4>ertickler."
"I'll look after it, never fear," said
Ihe other, shortly; "good-night."
Billy finished his task, but his mind
was still busy with thoughts of the
future. He rose aud stepped out into
|he night. At his feet the turbulent
fiver rushed blackly along, its foam
wests gleaming like dull silver in the
tlear starlight. Behind'him towered
In sileut majesty the rugged, wooded
mountains. The air was heavy with
Ihe breath of the pines. But Billy
law noi/e of the beauty of the uight.
The mountains awakened memories of
hardships aud hopelessness; the river
was only a highway to civilization. He
lit his pipe, and began to pace up and
down the shelving shore.
There was none of the stuff of which
heroes arfc made in BiHy Bailey's com
position. Had the fates seen fit to
continue their kindly beginning, he
would probably have developed into
one of the horde of whited sepulchres
that so largely make up what the
world is pleased to term the respect
able of humanity—those who observe
the conventions to the letter, indulge
every desire with a studied care that
wins the approval of men, and dying
are respectfully buried aud speedily
forgotten. On the contrary, late had
preferred giving Billy a chance to
prove his mettle. His college career
cut short by the melting away of his
father's fortune, he awoke one morn
ing to find himself face to face with
the world, his wits his only capital.
He remembered tonight his struggles
to maintain his social position; the
Blights heaped upon him by erstwhile
boon companions; the gradual sinking
away of hope, until, with starvation
staring him in the face, he had shipped
in a vessel bound "'round the Horn."
On his lips were angry phrases for the
friends who had failed him; in his
heart a resolve some day to retaliate.
Ha recalled his hardships on the
Wes'.ern frontier, his final falling in
with old Tom .Jenkins, and the hope
less search for gold until a week ago,
when the grave l of a dried-up moun
taiu stream unexpectedly yielded them
their little fortune and ended for him
the wretched existence in these soli
tudes. His future course was plain.
Mercilessly he would engage in the
war for wealth. His heart must know
but one lofe —the love of gold.
And the stake! it was uot so much
aft'er all. If he onlj had Tom's share,
too! The thought startled him, and
he looked furtively about as though
already under surveillance. Well,
why not? The old man cared nothing
for gold—he had said as much. Why
not begin the task of wealth-gather
ing tonight, and double his fortune by
a siugle coup? The skiff was all ready
for the morrow's journey down the
river. He could easily reach North
Fork by daylight, and miles of dis
tance would lie between him and Tom
before the latter could make the trip
across the almost impassable mountain
trail. He weakened for a moment as
he thought of Tom's almost motherly
solicitude—of how throughout their
wanderings the big-hearted miner had
borne the brunt of the struggle. Even
when the treasure was discovered the
old man's iirst words were: "I'm glad
for your sake, Billy." Then he asked
himself if he, too, was growing senti
mental, and tonight, of all nights, on
the very eve of buttle.
He walked back to the house. Tom
was fast asleep. The flickering light
of the lantern l'ell aslant the corner
where he lay, his powerful form half
swathed in the tattered blankets, his
brawny arms thrown above his head.
The face, from which sleep seemed to
have smoothed away the deep furrows,
mirrored the rugged honesty of his
heart. But the touching picture meant
nothing to Billy, who watched the
sleeper for an instant, and then pro
ceeded to put his cowardly scheme
into effect. It was but the work of a
few minutes to gather together the
things necessary for the short journey
down the river, and to secure the
treasure for safe transportation. There
was a look of cunning triumph on his
face as he completed his preparations.
He was thinking of the surprise await
ing Tom, who had been "fool enough
to believe in human friendship."
He made a cautious step toward the
door of the shack, when a slight noise,
real or fancied, caused him to glance
back over his shoiilder. The next in
stant the bag of gold crashed to the
floor, while Hilly sank on his knees as
though felled by a blow. Tom was
sitting bolt upright in bed,his revolver
leveled at Billy's heart.
The two gazed at each other in
utter silence. Billy's eyes, lixed with
the penetration born of despair,
scanned the old man's face, and
read there reproach and pity, rather
than a thirst for swift revenge. Ttfis
somewhat reassured him, and he rose
to his feet.
"Well," he said, bluntly, "what do
you intend to do?"
"So," said Tom,with a long breath,
"I wuz mistook in you, after all. To
think that I give you my friendship
an' you wa'n't worth it. What be I
going to do? What do men usu'lly do
when a pardner turns thief?"
"You wouldn't shoot me, Tom?"
"Why not? Men's beeu killed fer
less 'an this an' the world wuz well
red of 'em."
Then it did mean death.
As Billy realized this his face turned
ashen pale, while a palsying terror
struck through him, rending his
bravado mask and revealing him as
the pitiable dastard he was. He
cowered before the old man, pleading
hysterically.
"Oh, spare me, spare me, Tom. You
said you cared nothing for gold, while
I—l was mad with love of it. It is
my god —my heaven —my everything.
But tako it, take it all —only give me
my life —Tom—l—l—eau't—die."
"Git up," commanded the other,
coldly, "don't make me despise you
worse'n I do. What would you do if
you wuz in my place? Shoot, wouldn't
you? You'd kill me now if you had
the chance."
"But think, Tom, what life means
to me; I'm young and "
"Think what friendship meant to
me, Billy. I'm old."
In the momentary silence that
followed, the pines and the river
could be heard singing their old, old
song, unheeding of the strife of mor
tals for a scrap of the treasure they
guarded. Tom heard the song, and
his bitterness seemed togo out with
the weird melody. The hand that held
the weapon dropped listlessly to his
side.
"I'll spar' ver life, "he said hoarsely;
"you kin go."
Billy stood a moment as though he
had uot heard.
"Yer free. Go!" said Tom.
The boy glanced from the old man
to the bag o? gold, aud then turned
slowly toward the doorway.
"You better take yer pile now,"
said Tom, quietly, "as I reckon you
won't be coinin' back."
"Do yon mean it?" gasped Billy.
"Certainly; half's yourn, ain't it?
There's only one thief in this camp,
an'—it ain't me."
Tom proceeded to open the bag,and
roughly divided the contents.
"You can take the boat, that goes
with your half. As fer me," he added,
in a voice that wavered in spite of
himself, "I'll do what I'd 'a' done if
you'd 'a' robbed me. I'll stay awhile
longer with the mountains an' the
river. They're uncertain sometimes,
an' sometimes dangerous, but most
wise they're better'n men."
Billy vaguely appreciated the nature
of the man with whom he was deal
ing, yet he felt that" such nobleness
required some acknowledgment. He
sprang forward, and tried to grasp
the old man's hand.
"No, no—not that!" cried Tom,
fiercely. "Don't touch me. ThtJ
gold is yourn. Tako it and go. But
go quickly, Billy—fer I'm only
human."—3au Francisco Argonaut.
The value of a ton of pure gold is
8600,000,000.
HELPS FOR HOUSEWIVES.
Kvaporated Milk,
Tou may use evaporated milk in
place of ordinary milk for your cake,
Adding a sufficient quantity of water
to make it as nearly as possible like
fresh milk. I prefer, however, where
cakes contain a large quantity of but
ter, to use water, even if I have an
abundauce of fresh milk. Water
makes cake lighter and more delicate
than milk. Evaporated milk may be
used for cream sauce for any of the
canned vegetables or fruits, or for
cream sauce for puddings or vegeta
bles with which cream sauce would be
appropriate.
Why Celery Is Useful.
Celery is useful as a salad owing to
its well-known value as a nerve build
er. Wash the celery, trim off all the
green stalks, and pare the root. Cut
into shreds the white stalks and the
portion of the root clinging to them
after paring. Toss them in a bowl
with the same dressing usod for a to
mato and lettuce salad. A celery
mayonnaise is a delicious accompani
ment of a game dinner. Trim the
celery, cut the bleached portions left
into half-inch lengths, and season it
with a saltspoonful of salt and two or
three shakes of the white pepper cast
er. Cover it with mayonnaise and
serve at once.
Square* of Khubarb in Jelly.
Cover a quart of peeled rhubarb
cut in inch and a half squares with
cold water, aud at the first boil pour
off the water, cover with fresh, sim
mer for ten minutes and, while each
square is whole, try with a fork, aud
when beginning to soften add a large
cup of sugar. Stew a few moments
longer until the sweetening takes ef
fect, then stir the hot juice into quar
ter of a box of gelatine that has been
soaking in the juice of an orange, re- 1
move the rhubarb carefully that it
may not break, put half the juice in
a shallow dish on the ice, keep the
rest liquid. When half the juice has
jellied place the squares in it, pour the
liquid over and serve when the whole
has become firm. If too solid putin !
a warm place to limber aud scant the I
gelatine next time.
MfloiiH for ltreaUfaat.
Many persons who suffer indigos- J
tion from eatiug melons as a refresh
ing "appetizer" in the morning will
find that no unpleasaut results follow
their use as a breakfast dessert. To
the most unthinking it should be ap
parent that introducing a cold mass
into the stomach before eating must
necessarily reduce its temperature be
low that required for digestion. There
are stomachs hardy enough to endure
this treatment, but people should dis
abuse themselves of the idea that it
is the proper and healthful thing to
do in all cases. Anyone who is fond
of melons will find them as palatable
after the introduction of warm food
into the stomach as before, and gen
erally the result will be more satisfac
tory in the avoidauce of any undue
tax on the digestive organs.
How to Boil a Ham.
Select a good ham—one that is
thick through aud short for its weight.
Be sure, also, that the skin is thin,
that point determining the age of the
animal from which the ham is cut.
Scrape and wash it well, and put it on
to cook in sufficient cold water to well
cover it, adding a good half-cupful
each of vinegar and molasses. After
it has come to a boil the heat should
be reduced to just the simmering
point. A twelve-pound ham will re
quire five hours' simmering. When
half-doue add two bay leaves, a dozen I
cloves and a teaspoonful of sage. Let I
it cool over night in the water in
which it was boiled. In the morning
remove the skin, place the ham in a
dripping pan, and bake for an hour in
a moderate oven, basting with mild
vinegar. When nearly done sprinkle |
well with brown sugar, and brown. A J
boiled ham keeps much better for the j
added baking process. An indifferent j
ham prepared as above is better than j
the finest sugar-cured product care- I
lessly cooked.
Household Hints.
To mix a little consomme with clam j
broth adds considerably to the flavor
of the latter.
Wash chamois skins in warm suds,
rinse in warm water aud dry them by
stretching and rubbing.
A new filling for sandwiches con
sists of thin shavings of sugared gin- j
ger and candied orange peel. i
A pleasing new fad is the "weddinp
chest." To be quite the thing th'
should be of carted antique oak or iis>
semblance.
To clean mirrors make a paste of
whiting and a pint of water. Leave
it on till dry, and then rub off the
powder with a chamois.
A chemist says that medicine stains
usually yield very quickly to an ap
plication of alcohol. For the obsti
nate iodine-stains ether is recommend
ed.
A point to give the new housekeep
er is that china plates, cups or sau
cers should not be piled one upon an
other while they are hot. They must
be cool before they are packed. Other
wise the glaze cracks easily.
The old-fashioneij sugar tongs
with spoon points are recommended
for use in hulling strawberries, when
it is desired to keep the shape of the
berry intact. The large tine berries
are frequently served with the hulls
on, passing a little dish of powdered
sugar with each plate of berries.
The correct way to carve a fish is
to run a knife down the back, cutting
through the skin. Remove the fins,
then cut into even pieces on one side.
When these pieces are served, remove
the bones and cut the under aids iu
the same way.
I THE REALM OF FASHION. |
A Favorite In Sheer Fabrics.
For lawns, organdies and all sheer
fabrios this style of waist, designed by
May Manton, is a great favorite.
It can be made up perfectly devoid
of decoration, simply trimmed around
the epaulettes and wrists as shown, or
lavishly decorated with insertion, lace
or ribbon, in straight, cross, diamond,
ladies' full waist.
horizontal or perpendicular lines, as
fancy may dictate.
A perfectly fitted lining of colored
lawn is the foundation over which the
full white organdy is adjusted, Valen
ciennes lace and insertion being
chosen for decoration. The fronts
and back are gathered at the neck,
shoulders and waist line, the skirt
being worn over the lower edge of
waist.
The front pouches slightly in up-to
date style, but the back is drawn
tightly to the waist line.
The wrinkled sleeve adjusted over
two-seamed linings (which may be
omitted at wili) and the gathered
epaulettes are a stylish feature of this
pretty waist. The mode is especially
adapted to thin silks of India and
Japanese weave, mousseline de soie,
liberty silk and grenadine, while silk,
embroidered chiffon, passementerie,
gauze, net and ribbon ruching and
4
CHILD'S QUIMPE DRESS.
frilling can be used to trim a waist
like this very handsomely.
To make this waist for a lady of
medium size will require four yards of
material thirty-six inches wide.
A Dainty Little Dress.
White lawn, tucking, Valenciennes
lace and insertion combine to make
the dainty little dress shown in the
large engraving.
The design provides for a short,
low yoke, that is simply fitted by
shoulder seams, to the upper edge of
which the skirt portion is attached,
the fulness being collected in gathers.
The skirt falls freely from yoke to the
lower edge, which finishes with a wide
hem, over which two evenly spaced
of insertion are placed. An at
traotive feature is the bertha, shaped
with square oorners at the lower edge,
whioh is also edged with lace headed
Dy insertion, the round top being
gathered and sewed on at round yoke
outline.
Plain or figured organdie, dimity,
nainsook, India silk, swiss, challie,
cashmere or any soft, becoming ma
terial in silk, wool or cotton will
make pretty dresses by the mode.
In place of the insertion can be
used ribbon in plain or gathered rows,
braid, gimp, embroidery or ruchings
of the material.
As illustrated, the dress is worn
with a guimpe of white lawn, the
yoke of whieh is tucked.
To make this dress for a girl six
years of age will require three and
one-half yards of material thirty-six
inches wide.
A Rainy Day WaUt.
A good rainy day waist is made of ;
fine mohair. One practical damsel i
has a mohair waist which has been j
made water repellant. Another always
carries with her a little cape of mohair
whioh has been similarly treated. The
oape rolls into a space not over three
inches square and can be slipped into
the pocket or bicyelekit and the space
will never be missed. Its owner de
clares that it has saved her many a
cold and that she would not dispense
with it under any circumstances. Too
little attention is given to minor acces
sories of this sort. Young persons do
not seem to realize that a trifle of pre
caution may save many wearisome
days of illness if not broken-down
health.
An Empress Who Loves Birds.
The dowager empress of China is
devoted to birds of all kinds, and in
numerable bird pets are kept about
the palace. She is reported to have
wept oopiously about the death of a
favorite nightingale not long ago.
Upon being told of a Chinese girl who
had complained bitterly of the dreari
ness of life, this exalted lady remarked
sagely that a womau ought to take so
much pride in her home that it could
be a heaven to her, adding: "There
are always birds and flowers." She
is a clever artist and delights in paint
ing from nature.
The Capes or the Season.
Capes of a couple of seasons ago
were so full and voluminous that the
owners of them are finding them avail
able for Eton jackets, boleros and
various nses. One cape will cut a
handsome Eton and will make sleeves
if it happens to be of the full average
size. Even the very small ones work
over in this way to the most excellent
advantage.
Women's Right* in Canada.
The new charter of Montreal, Can
ada, gives full municipal suffrage to
women, either widows or unmarried,
who occupy, either as lessees or own
ers, property in the city subject to
taxation.
A Pretty Frock.
A black tulle frock which differs
from other black tulle frocks is spangled
with jet and silver from the bottom of
the skirt to the curve of the hips, leav
ing a free space of about a quarter of
a yard from the waist downward. The
bodice is made of gauged tulle, trans
parent upon the arms and upper por
tion of the chest and back, and forms
a sort of cuirass to the waist of heavy
steel and jet embroidery. No golor is
viorn with this frock, and a pretty
touch is given by a white osprey in
the ooiffure.
A Notable Feature of the Season's Slyles.
Sleeves of material that contrasts
with the gown and harmonizes with
yoke, vest or accessories are a notable
feature of the season's styles.
Light-weight textures, such as veil
ing, grenadine, mousseline or soft
silks, are tucked by gathers at each
edge over fitted linings, as shown in
No. 1. This style adds greatly to the
comeliness of a rather thin arm, while
disguising the one too generously pro
portioned. For heavy silks, broeadep,
velvet and broadcloth, a plain, close
fitted sleeve is chosen, as represented
in No. 2. Both styles are included in
the pattern, with double-gathered
caps that may be used singly or to
gether on either style of sleeve, or
omitted if not desired.
Sleeves in either mode can be worn
with bas jues or waists of wool or silk.
WOMAN'S SLEEVE.
To make No. 1 will require one and
one-eighth yards of material thirty-six
inches wide. To make No. 2 will re
quire three-quarters of a yard of the
same width material. _ ~
Feed Your Nerves
Upon rtoh, para, nourishing blood by
taking Hood's Sarsaparllla, and you
will be free from those spells of de
spair, those sleepless nights and anxious
days, those gloomy, deathlike feelings,
those sadden starts at mere nothings,
those dyspeptic symptoms and blinding
headaohes. Hood's Sarsaparllla has done
this for many others—lt will cure you.
Hood's Sarsaparilla
Is America's Greatest Medicine. 81; si* for s•">.
Hood's Pills cure sick headache. 26c.
An Incident at Santiago.
An incident of the trenches before
Santiago is told by a member of the
Ninth Massachusetts. He says: "Wo
arrived at the battlefield about noon,
and were lined up in position behind
a hill to aot as reserves and to protect
the food and ammunition. Bullets
were whistling over our heads iu a
perfect storm; but we were becoming
quite used to that sort of thing, and,
being tired out, we lay down on the
ground and tried to keep cool. While
we were lying there a shell dropped at
the feet of Sergeant Walker, not three
feet from him. Fortunately it did not
explode; if it had, the whole company
would have been wiped out.
"It gave some of the boys such a
fright that they started to run, bat
Sergeant Walker called them back, as
suring them that the danger was past,
and that he was going to use it for a
seat. He walked over to it and planked
himself down; but he had no more
than touched it when he jumped about
five feet in the air, and grabbing him
self by the seat of the trousers, yelled:
"It's hot!" —New York Sun.
The Original Tommy Atkins.
The question as to the origin of
Tommy Atkins as the godfather-in
chiec of the British army has been re
cently discussed in the columns of
the Western Morning News. The re
ceived version is that the name origi-
Mally appeared iu a model account
form issued by the War Office. But
it is asserted that a real Thomas At
kins was, in the beginning of the
century, a gnnner in the Royal Artil
lery, and kept a pay-book in such a
neat and orderly manner that it be
came a model for soldiers' account
books in general, which took the
name of their originator. Then by a
process of substitution known to stu
dents of mythology, the individual
soldier took the place of the book,
and the mythopuoic Tommy came into
being.—Household Words.
Knovrn by His Walk.
A tutor of one of the Oxford colleges
who limped in his walk was some
years ago accosted .by a well-known
politician, who asked him if he was
not the chaplain of the college at such
a time, naming the year. The doctor
said he was. The interrogator ob
served: "I knew you by your limp."
"Well," said the doctor, "it seemed
my limping made a deeper impression
than my preaching." "Ah, doctor,"
was the reply, with ready wit, "it is
the highest compliment we can pay a
minister to say that he is known by
his walk rather than by his conversa
tion."—St. Louis Star.
CONSULTING A WOMAN.
Mrs. Pinkham's Advice Inspires
Confidence and Hope.
Examination by a male physician is
a hard trial to a delicately organized
woman.
She puts it off as long as she dare,
and is only driven to it by fear of can
cer, polypus, or some dreadful ill.
Most frequently such a woman leaves
than better. In consulting Mrs. Pink
ham no hesitation need be felt, the
story is told to a woman and is wholly
confidential. Mrs. Pinkham's address
is Lynn, Mass., she offers sick women
her advice without charge.
Her intimate knowledge of women's
troubles makes her letter of advice a
wellspringof hope, and her wide experi
ence and 6kill point the way to health.
" I suffered with ovarian trouble for
ceven years, and no doctor knew what
was the matter with me. I had spells
which would last for two days or more.
I thought I would try Lyaia E. Pink
ham's Vegetable Compound. I have
taken seven bottles of it, and am En
tirely cured." —MßS. JOHN FOREMAN. *-'>
N. Woodberry Ave., Baltimore, Md.
The above letter from Mrs. Foreman
is oily one of thousands.
BAD 1
BLO0L)
"CAICARBTI do all claimed Tor .
and are a truly wonderful medicine. I bav. oitM »
wished for a medicine pl.asant to take and at last
hare found it In Cucar.cs. Since taking th*m. Mr
blood hu been uurlfl.d and my complexion bas im
proved wonderfully and I feel much better In etrty
way.'' Mas. aiiXia K. SXIXAIU. LattreU, Tcuo.
(fCATHAWTtC
... OUM CONSTIPATION.
fM.ij.sf ■«■««> »mn>. CMfft, Mutual, Mtm t
NO-TO-M0