JUST A LITTLE SONC. Just s little song, dear, Whu lh» heart is gay; Jaat a lilting measure la the lonesome day; J as* « thread of melody O* the weary way. Jnst s little song, dear, When the burden binds; Just a snatch of music Whin the toiler finds lafe a little wearing. Ami the day's work grinds. —Collier's Week'y. { THE BEGINNING i t 0F * | A LOVE £ 0 Queer Mistake Which Brought About 112 Happy Results. j It was just 4 o'clock in the morning when Miss Clarissa Steel crept quiet ly down stairs and out at the side door. She stood for a moment on the broad Btone step and took a long, free breath, then she went down the gravel walk into the street. She turned away from the village, and, as if with a definite object in view, walked swift ly toward the fields and hills to the north. It was only since April that Elm ville had taken a lively interest in birds. It had known vaguely that there were birds within its borders— English sparrows, an oriole or two, and out in the country crows, perhaps a few jays. This limited ornitholog ical knowledge had satisfied Elm ville, and when it heard that in Bos ton it was the thing to rise early, take one's opera glasses and go "birding" it had smiled indu'gently. That, however, was two years ago and Elmville was 200 miles from Boston. A hundred miles a year was quite fast enough for a fad to travel toward Elmville, but when it finally arrived It was received with enthusiasm. The little village suddenly awoke to the fact that there were birds in Its trees of which it had never dreamed, and birds in its fields and pastures whose very names it had bever he' ,'fi. It began to talk wisely of vireos and warblers, red-starts and flickers. Quiet folk who had known of birds all their lives suddenly found themselves in great demand. This popularity might have turned their heads had it lasted long enough, but when it was discovered that there were questions which they could not answer they were promptly made to know their proper place and to feel like impostors who have'been found Out. The newly aroused interest in birds ; took different forms. There were j some who made up parties and took i long walks in the woods, where they j talked and laughed so loudly that all the birds fled before them. This class ; enjoyed the bird walks greatly and . went every week. Then there was : young Mrs. Goodnow, who had seen more birds than any one else in town, but who could not tell the song of a rose-breasted grosbeck from that of : a cuckoo, declaring naively that she did not care anything about the noises the birds made. Others wondered how she could know so many birds when she did not have her ears to help her, but she had a very fine pair of field glasses and unlimited time. There were the two elder Misses Steele, who contented themselves With looking from windows into the tops of the elm and maple trees which grew about their home, and there was their sister Clarissa, who on this beantiful June morning, was out in the country at a little after 4. It was 7 when she waited up the path to the side door. She was tired and very hungry, but she was also happy and had a quantity of bird news to tell her sisters. Breakfast was ready and a delicious odor of hot coffee came out to her through the screen door, and she went in eagerly. She hung her hat in the entry, then passed onto the dining room. Usually she greeted her sisters with a cheery good morning, but this time she had hardly crossed the threshold before she was aware that something was wrong. A quick glance at Elinor and Caroline showed her that it must be something very wrong indeed. Her heart began to beat faster and all the happiness B*emed suddenly to have gone out of the morning. She looked timidly at her sisters und they stared at her in stony silence. "What is the matter?" she asked, tremulously. "I should not think you would need to ask thht question, Clarissa Maria, Elinor saiil in a hollow voice. "No, 1 should not tlilnii so," echoed Caroline. Now it was only about once In three years that slit did anything bad enough for them to call her Clarissa Maria, and at that mono nt she felt that life was too full of bitterness to be borne. She sank weakly down in a chair and waited. "To think," began Caroline. In a tone ol sadness and reproof, "to think that you should dl: truce us, and not only us, but the good name of our family, by making yum pretended Interest In birds an e\< ii. e for ■; iiun out morning* and carrying on a flirtation " "A scandalous flirtation," Inter rupted Elinor. a scandalous flirtation with l»aar<.n Pptun." Clarissa started to her feet with a little cry. "I I never did hie- na.p.'i, while the color ro > iu her fu< <■. "Yen saw him this morning You deny thai, t support though I daa't haow." ami Caroline sliudderetl "Vm." said t'lai'b a. • as<-r!y. "I did ••• hi* It was down in Mr. Ame«' meadow, but he was on one side of the river and lon the other, and we just stopped to speak about birds for a minute," Elinor smiled sardonically. "And then," she said, "he kissed his hand to you—not once, but several times, and you " "Yes kissed your hand to him," finished Caroline, as Elinor paused and seemed unable togo on. "Yes, Clarissa Maria, you kissed your hand to him. We knew it because Sally Porter was on the hill and heard your voice and saw you do it." "Oh!" cried Clarissa, her face lighting up, "he did not kiss his hand to me. How could you think he would bo so silly? He was just showing me how to call the birds around. You just put your Angers to your lips and make a smacking sound, so," and she il lustrated, "and somehow it makes the birds come." The elder sisters looked skeptical. "That is a very ingenious excuse," said Caroline, coldly. "And how do explain your conduct?" There were tears in Clarissa's eyes now. "I just tried to see if I could do it," she said, with a little sob. "Well," said Elinor, "I don't know how many people will believe you. You know what Sally Porter is like. You'd better eat your breakfast and start right out and see and explain to all the people Ehe has told the story to. Come sit down, things will be stone-cold." "I —don't want any breakfast*; I'm not hungry," and Clarissa went out of the room with her handker chief held to her eyes. An hour later Elinor tried Clarissa's door and found it locked. "You'd bet ter come down and eat something," she said, but there was no answer and she went away. An hour after that she came again. This time she shook the door vigor ously. "Clarissa," she called in a subdued tone, "come down stairs at once. Deacon Upton is here and wants to see you." "Oh, I can't!" cried Clarissa, in a frightened voice. "You must," said Elinor, emphatic ally. "He says he will wait any length of time, but he will see you." When Clarissa entered the parlor Deacon Upton rose to meet her. "Good morning, Miss Steele," he said. Then they both remembered that they had met before that morn ing and there was an awkward pause. She looked down at the carpet and he looked at her. "I think, Miss Clarissa," he said, desperately, when the silence had be come unendurable, "I think that you have heard the same thing that I have." He I'elt that he had expressed himself vaguely, but she understood and nodded her head without look ing up. She tried to keep her lips steady, but she could not prevent the tears from coming. When the deacon saw them they seemed to give him the courage of desperation. "I cannot express to you my regret that I was the cause—the innocent cause—of giving you pain. I would do anything in my power for the privilege of living over this morning and omitting that scene. Hut only on your account, remember," he went on, impetuously, "only on your account. For myself, I would not care who knew or saw. I would not be content with merely kissing my hand to you, either, and I would be willing to—er —do it on the green in front of the postofflce in sight of everybody." Clarissa was looking at him now, and the deacon moved his chair near er. Her eyes made him think of drowning violets, and he had a strong desire to save them. "Clarissa," he said, "did you ever want something very, very much, but, knowing that it was far beyond your reach, after a time almost for got that you wanted it, and deceived yourself into thinking that you were happy without it? Did you, Clarissa?" She nodded. "Well," he went on, "that has been my experience, and this morning some thing happened that brought it all back to me, and —oh, Clarissa! 1 don't see how 1 can live without you any longer." She was silent for a moment, then she said, softly, "I don't think you will have to." —Susan Brown Robbins, in the Chicago Record. A Friday SuperMltion. A row of paupers' houses, very neatly designed, has just been eroded : at Aharacle, Mr. Rudd of Ardna murclian having advanced a consider able sum tor building purposes to the 1 parish council on easy terms. Accom modation is provided for 10 persons A few dav<« ago Mr. H. Mcpherson inspector of the poor, visited Aharacle in order to superintend the removal of the 10 selected female paupers tc the new cottages. They all occupied houses which wore in a wretched t-tute of .its-repair, yet each of then' resolutely and peremptorily refused to "Hit." In vain did the inspectoi dilate on the inci eased comfort and conveniences to be enjoyed in the new dwellings. The aged dames were in vincible proof against all argument - nor did threats n< compulsion ani 1 sheriff's warrants have any terror foi them. At length it was elicited tha' the disinclination to remove wni based rimply on supeistttlon. Tht day of the week happened to h* Friday. an i it appears that to changi quarters on thui particular day const! tuies a grosa and wanton violation o all the canons governing highland tilting." On discovering that the per verslty mm Ifestad by the old wornei was mainly attriliitalde to "con aclenUiitis scruples," the Inspector a 1 one* ainved to humor them, and tht removals were postponed until till follow ing day win n they were uu tom pl I shed without any opposition o» demur —'Th» tJioUn.au. gpSSSStStSSe-S-SsS mmSggSSSSSiSSmSiStSm 1 THE REALM OF FASHION. I mmmmtSsem&mssammmmmimm New York City.—The long coat that means warmth to the entire body Is a necessity for the young child. The very charming little May Manton de- CHILD'B LONG COAT. sign illustrated is admirable for the tot who has just been promoted to Bhort clothes, as well as for children of four and six years of age. As shown the material is Russian blue broadcloth, with trimming of soft gray chinchilla; but younger children wear white beugaline peau de sole, drap de ete and velvet. Corduroy or velveteen can be substituted for the cloth when the child lias reached the mature age of four years. Fur is much used as trimming, hut narrow frills of ribbon and stitched bands arc entirely cor rect. The skirt portion is laid In box pleats, two at the front and two at the back, and is attached to a short titled body. The double capes fall over the shoulders, the upper one being cut in points at the front, which gives nil exceptionally smart effect. At the neck is a turn-over collar. The sleeves are full, in bishop style, and are fin ished with straight bands or cuffs at the wrist. The coat closes at the centre front, where it is supplied with ornamental buttons and buttonholes. To cut tills coat for a child of four years of age five yards of material twenty-one inches wide, four and one eighth yards twenty-seven Inches wide, two and five-eighth yards forty-four or two yards fifty Inches wide, will be required. Woman*** Tucked Blouse. The simple blouse of finely tucked material Is a prime favorite of the season, and is charming for wear with odd skirts as well us for costumes of soft, clinging stuffs. As illustrated in tlie large engraving it is designed by May Manton for the former use and is of satin Aiglon in pastel blue with cuffs of panne in a deeper shade and is worn with tie and iK'lt that match the velvet; but both silk and wool crepe are admirable, soft-finished taf feta and satin rcgence are much liked, as are all the softer silks, while mous seline and Liberty are always lovely. The foundation Tor the waist Is a lining fitted with single darts, under arm, back and shoulder scums. The waist pro|»er Is laid In line, evenly spaced tucks, and is arranged over the lining with slight, easy fulness at neck and ehouldcis In fro.it, closing ut the centre front, where the tucks conceal the fact. The sleeves are modeled after the latest stylo, and .ire arranged over a smooth fitted lining. The outer portions are tuck< d to a few Inches above the wrists, where they full free and lorin puffs that are tacked to the lining which ensures a perfect adjustment. At tin wrists ire bauds finished wllU pointed ends that lap over and hook into place. To cut this blouse for a w<"uai> medium site four and se< n ' n yards of material twentj on.- ucnes wide, two and a quarter yards forty tour it'Ches wide, or two mid one eighth yards forty-eight Inches wide. Will la requited. Jtw*lry< A gein In l art noiiveau line Is a smallish brooch, consisting of a pink enamel Illy, |i» shades ringing from pastel old rose to M purplish lint; this Illy rests ou a curved bar of rose told set with pearls, while from this bar n baroque pearl (the dented sort that gets slightly dented iu the hinge part of the oyster) is pendant. This charming novelty has been brought out by exclusive firms to meet the demands of the feminine din ner-giver and diuer-out, who, perforce, is ungloved during most of the enter tainment. Though suggestive of the marquise ring at first look, one nt length per ceives that there are triangular exten sions down each side, also set with gems. This addition naturally makes it a desirable ring for tbe little finger. Fairly suggestive of CleoparrS is a scarabeus of diamonds This beetle, which seems to dominate Egyptian de sign, has its broad, gem-set wings out spread. A ruby Is set in his body, while a pearl takes the place of his head. But. he is not the only insect on the tray. There are great, magnified flies: one sparkling fellow has a magnificent pearl by way of a body.—riiiladelphia Record. New Tlilh Season. Those who are wise in such matters have discovered that gun-metal orna ments can be worn with mourning. Dull or bright jet, pearls and oxidized silver or black onyx have hitherto been the resort of women in mourning, but to have something else available which shall be both fashionable and desirable sleeve links, lace pins, hat pins anil chains of gun metal are used. The latest exhibit of it is in the link purse and chatelaine bag, which are new this season. Ool<l Taftflclfl* Little tassels of gold bullion swing from the pendant ends of a dark blue silk cravat. This Is worn in front over a lace front which lightens' up a eostunie of dark blue lady's cloth. The sparing us; of gold is rather more ef fective than the profuse exhibitions of gold braiding, tags, buckles, ferrets and spikes Ave see on some gorgeous costumes. Gold tassels swing from tlie ends of a narrow black satin cra vat. Woman's Fivo Goretl Tucked Skirt, The skirt tucked in perpendicular lines is becoming to almost all figures and is one of the latest developments of the season's styles. The May Man ton design Illustrated Is essential!/ smart and Is simple at the same time. The groups of tucks, three each, are arranged ut the front and side seams with pointed straps between producing a panel effect. As shown the skirt is made of mode colored Venetian cloth, with tlie straps in a darker shade, but velvet, silk or braid can be used In contrast with a cloth foun dation, and the color can be the same or a harmonizing one, as preferred. The skirt is cut In five gores. The tucks are allowed at the »dge of the front and back gores, those at the front turning backward, those at the back turning forward, and are stitched to the point Indicated, below which they fall free to intensify the Hare. The straps are arranged as ludicatcd and stitched Into place. The skirt fits snugly ai the upper portion and In cludes short hip darts In the side por tions. The fulness at the back la laid in an Inverted pleat. A TrcKtu HKtnr. To cut thin wkirt for a woman of me dium slxc *l\ umt three eighth yards of material fori y four Inches wide, or lour nud seveu eighth yard* fifty niches wide, will In required. TUNINC A PIPE ORGAN. It Takes Two or Tinea I>»vs ami Is a Nerve Try 1 nj; Jnli. "The misuse which many pipe or gans suffer is a wonder to me," «said* a veteran organ tuner and builder. "Church organs cost from? 1000 to SIO,OOO. They are vary sensitive to changes of temperature and yet many are heated and chilled once a week all winter and allowed to get damp soaked in summer. The same people who neg lect an organ will take good care of a piano costing a tenth of twentieth as much. "An organ is a good deal like a human being when it comes to changes of temperature. Sudden drops put a man out of tune and it's the same with the instrument. It needs an even, mod erate temperature during the winter instead of a roasting on Sunday and a freezing the rest of the week. In summer a stone or brick church gets damp. A slight fire once a week will keep the organ dry. "A pipe organ requires tuning at least once a year and the best instru ments are looked over two or three times in that period. It is a two or three days' job and needs two men. Besides the tuner up in the organ an assis tant must lie at the keyboard to hold down the keys. Temperature has to be considered even in tuning. All the pipes must be brought to pitch at about the same degree and this de gree, should be that which the or gan usually has when in use. "I believe that pipe organ tuning is the most nervous work one can tackle In fact, after long experience I have come to believe that I tune with my nerves. No, I don't refer to the nerves of hearing. I get my impressions that way. but I tune with my nervous system. My assistant strikes a chord. If it is not true I feel a nervous stress and strain. As soon as the chord is true my nerves become harmonious too. It sounds funny, but it's so. "Two or three days may seem like a long time to take to tune an organ, but when you stop to think of the 1700 pipes in a large modern instru ment. it isn't so long. A large organ will have a compass of five oc taves or 61 keys. These instruments have 28 registers and a pipe to each key and register brings the number to 1708. Not every key and register has a pipe, but as some have two it amounts to that. The pipes are of all sorts and sizes, most of them wood but many of metal. A small number of the large and long wooden pipes never get out of tune. They are too long. For many years the fancy pipes at the front of an organ were only ornamental, but nowadays these sound as well. "I find that pipe a mystery to most people. They can understand how the piano strings are tightened anu loosened. But changes in the pitch of pipes queer them. It isn't strange either, for the average organ has five kinds of tuning. Of course, the pitch depends on the length of the pipe. The pitch may be raised by shortening the pipe or by stopping the open end. A number of wooden pipes are stopped by wooden slides. Handles are at tached and the pipe is tuned by mov ing the slide up or down. Other woods have set in the top a piece of metal which is rolled or bent over partially to stop tc pipe. "Ribbon strips are cut in the sides of the tall metal pipes and rolled down. These breaV: the column of air and act the same as cutting off the top of the pipe. Another kind of pipes, the reeds, are on a different principal. The length of the reed controls the pitch. A wiro presses tightly against the reed and is moved to lengthen or shorten the vibrating length." The Psychology of IMly. A recent study of the emotion of pity has been made by Professor G. Stanley Hall and F. 11. Saunders by means of a set of questions distribu ted among a number of school chil dren and adults. It was found that hunger in some form seemed to be thai which excited the deepest pity in most of those ouestioned, and in the case of the poorer children this proved to be almost invariably the case. "The children of the poor who know what hunger is in their own experience have tar quicker and more effective sympathies in the direction of pity for the starving than children who have never felt the pungs of appetite themselves. Must people in civilized life know almost nothing of the very poignant Buffering due to lack of food, and adults have little conception of the pain and distress which children ft el from hunger With the young it is very definite, sharp and localized distress that may rise to the intensity of agony and P.n guish. At its strongest it may call out all the forces of the struggle for survival and prompt the best chil dren or adults to theft, petty of great, to forceful robbery and to mutual slaughter and eanniball: in. When we reflect that the great majority of animals find their grave in the maw of other animals, and that the strug gle for survival has been largely for food, we tan understand that It ■peaks well for the race that ply In this field, even for those of un alien race and at a gnat distance, who suffer from famine, is so effective To feed the hungry is one of the primal works of charity, and a virtue without its own benlaon. Tim XiilUf»r«lon In 11. "I wonder why Kaleacre put all his »u\li>k» under his pillow every night?" "Itcekon he wants people to know that he has • ntnr.li money to retire nil."- I'hilutli Iphlii Record. The stoutest of Ktm.pean monarch' ia the Klnts of Portugal. who la mil> five fell six Indite t ill aUd weigh* JU pounds. Arivire for the Needlewoiifnu. A professional embroiderer advises the use of a thread of green with all white embroidery silk that is used on any piece of work which will require much washing or cleansing. She says that in the hands of a clever needle woman the green will not show, and yet it will surely keep the white silk from turning yellow, as it is so apt to do after being laundered a few times. Tli© of a Hoimo. You must have certain things as a basis—things that you cannot do with out; they must be purchased at once and set in place; but they are the nec essities which are found in every house, and which are absolutely in dispensable. That is the bread-and butter part, and you may eat it as quickly as you please, but the part that can be done by degrees is the orna menting of the rooms —the addition of a picture, a bit of bronze or marble, a few coveted books or an article of fur niture which does not come directly under the head of "merely useful." There is an excitement in the very necessity of making a choice when there is only a stipulated sum of money to invest, and there are so many ways in which you want to spend it. —Sallie Joy White, in the Woman's Home Companion. Tlio Terrors of Wnsli I>a.v, la it the coming of "wash day," as It is known in domestic parlance, or Is it the reaction from Sunday holi day which causes the phenomenon ob served in many households as "Mon day crossness?" The laundry work enlists the atten tion of the entire domestic force in many homes, and consequently there is more or less additional duty im posing upon the mistress of a small establishment before she can get her house settled for the day. The chil dren, who return unwillingly to the confinement of school, perhaps add to her perturbation by losing their school books and clamoring for miss ing mittens, lunch box or umbrellas. The Monday breakfast seems to be 'flavored with soapsuds" somehow, and the little folks in the nursery are apt to be chidden for minor sins of amission or commission which would pass unnoticed on other occasions. The baby is taken ~ut for an airing by the mother instead of by the nurse, who is otherwise occupied with the tubs. The mother seems impatient with the delays and meanderings of the little folks who march by the side of the bab> coach. It is not their fault that today is Monday, but they are the victims of tart replies and impa tient behavior from their usually in dulgent parent. Perhaps she is tired or overworked, but all the same the denizens of the nursery are the real, though innocent, sufferers from the "Monday crossness of mothers."— Philadelphia Record. I'D jFmK R£C/P f s Browned Sweet Potatoes —Boil the potatoes in salted water until nearly done, then drain, take off the skins and dip in melted butter. Place them in a dripping pan, sprinkle with pepper, salt and sugar and bake until nicely browned, basting frequently with melted butter. Pudding Sauce—Beat until light one cupful of sugar, one level table spoonful of butter, the yolk of one egg and two tablespoonfuls of flour. Pour over this mixture one pint of boiling water, stir until well mixed, then cook for three minutes and add the beaten white of the egg. Swiss Eggs—Spread the bottom of a shallow dish with two tablespoon fuls of butter and sprinkle with grated cheese. Break eight whole eggs over the cheese and season with salt and a little cayenne. Add four tablespoon fills of cream, sprinkle again with cheese and bake in a moderate oven for about 15 minutes. Beef Stew with Tomatoes —Put two tablespoonfuls of lard into a hot ket tle; when melted add two pounds of round steak cut into small pieces, one sliced onion and dredge with two tablespoonfuls of flour. l,et all brown nicely, then cover with boiling water, season to taste and stew for about two hours. Ten minutes before tak ing up, add one pint of stewed to tnatoes. Pour over toast and serve French Rice Cream Put three ta blespoonfuls of rice and one pint of milk In a double boiler and cook until tender. Dissolve one andoue-half table spoonfuls of gelatine in a little water strain and add to the hot rite. Hhip one pint of cream, sweeten ami flavor to taste, mix with the rice, put Into a mould and set In Ice until perfectly cold. When ready to serve, turn the rice out Into a dish and pour around It a sauce prepared In the following manner: Pul one tumblerful of cur rant Jelly In a granite saum'pan, add one fourth of a cupful 01* water and let simmer until dissolved, then sweeten to taste. 11... n i.h »112 MrrrnlM. • What 1h the matter.Hercules?" Jove asked, as the former paused In his arduous work of cleaning the Augean it.UlUtt. • I was merely lunging for the horse less ' reotle*l H
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers