T TT TOTT r
w
By John
THERE Is a certain watering
place lo Scotland, oud lu thnt
place there Is a winding path
which loads to the sea. At
the top of the cliff facing that path
there is ft house whore boarders are re
reived during the summer months
that Is the scene ot this story.
At the time of which I write nil the
occupants of Cliff House were more or
loss interested In a little comedy that
was being played out In their midst.
Comedy or was It tragedy? For a
boy of twenty to be fooled nnd led
captive by an unscrupulous woman,
simply for her own ends, may bo a
comedy from the woman's point of
view, but it will certainly end ia trag
;dy for the boy.
Nevertheless, Hush Cameron being
Sis own master nnd alone In the world,
til those among whom for the time
helng bis lot was cast, waited placidly
for tho Inevitable denouement: all save
lis hostess, Mrs. Miller, the friend of
bis dead mother.
In a small sunny room at the back
,if the house Mrs. Miller snt thinking
one morning in July. Her eyes were
ixed with a far-away look upon the
lills that lay In a dark ridge against
the horizon. Her Hps were com
pressed, her brow knitted, her atti
tude resolute nnd determined.
Suddenly the sound of footsteps in
the hall caught her oar. Rising from
ler seat she went to the door, and
railed :
'Mr. Howard."
John Howard, the only permanent
hoarder at Cliff House, nnd cashier in
(he bank In town, came in, a tall, spare
man of thirty-five, with a plain hut
pleasing face, and n manner that
tamped hiin unmistakably as a gen
tleman. The troubled look passed
?rom Mrs. Miller's brow as he en
tered, and she greeted him with a
smile.
"I have been thinking of Hugh
Cameron," she said, as he came up to
:he window where she was seated and
leant against It, looking down at her
bent head, with the coils of soft brown
bnlr only partially hidden ly her wid
ow's cap. Grace Miller had been a
widow at twenty.
The man's face clouded.
"The boy is very dear to you," he
remarked, cynically.
"Very." was the brief reply.
The cloud deepened perceptibly.
"That he Is considerably your ju
nior does not matter he is handsome,
fascinating and rich."
She rose from her chair, and stood
beside him, laying her hand upon his
arm. Her voice trembled as she spoke.
"He Is the only son of a 3entl friend
who was dearer to me than a sister."
"Yet you have never seen him until
within the last year."
"That makes no difference. I owe
(t to his mother to care for hor son,"
she answered.
John Howard did not reply. A stray
breeze fluttered the window curtain
nnd played with a soft tendril of hair
that had escaped from beneath Mrs.
Miller's cap, but her thoughts ware
only of tho boy.
"Mr. Howard John " she said nt
last. "I want you to help me."
"In what way?" he asked. His tone
was without enthusiasm.
"To help me to save Hugli Cameron
from tho woman who would ruin him
body and soul.
"How do you propose to do It?"
"I have a plan. I cannot send her
away from this house he would fol
low her. It Is useless to expostulate
with him he would not listen. No
one has any authority over hiin."
"Well?"
"There must be a counter nnd a
stronger attraction. Nothing else will
save him."
"Where will you find such?"
Her face Hushed. Her bead
dropped, but her voice was firni.
"In myself," she said.
He looked away through the window
ngaiu to where the lights aud shadows
played on the soft, smooth turf, nnd
the bees droned drowsily in the sun
shine. Her proposition did not strike
him as too self assured or egotistical,
for to him slie had long been the one
woman lu the world.
She gathered courage aud went on.
"I do not think I am biased by van
ity. All these years since I have had
this house I have str! eu, as you know,
to make myself look old. By my cap
by my dress, by uiy general style, 1
have done this."
Ho nodded acquiescence. No man
kuetv better than John Howard how
beautiful Grace Miller could be when
She chose.
"But but If I leave off this disguise,
If I allow myself lo look my best, if
I put on one Mela tho considerations
whleh have prompted mo to kill my
youth"
"Yes what then?"
She laughed a soft, low laugh, from
which nervousness was not entirely
absent.
"Then I do not doubt thnt I could
take the boy from the woman who
enthralls blin."
"And when you have done so, what
is to follow?" he asked in a bard, dry
voice.
Having undermined Miss Mnrtm'
vile Influence. It will be a comparative
ly easy task to cur the Infatuation
which has been tho mer.ns to that
end," alio replied.
"And what ii to be my part In tho
play?"
There was wlstfnlnoss and yet con
fldeuce lo her explanation.
"I want y.m, who know thi vonl
facta of tbu ae. to stand between
me nnd the mis 'presents Men or even
lander which may arise from my ex
pertinent."
"I follow you In every particular
fcut one," be ss'.d, "supposing you fail
to cure the boy of the Infatuation
or aay the love for you which ia to be
part of your plan what would he be
bettered r
He would be bettered by beln un
fler the Influence of a good woman In
tead of an nttfly unscrupulous one.
But I shall sot fait"
A At CD f M(S
VS
Gritton
There was not a shadow of hesitancy
In hor tone, but the man doubted.
"I judge by past experience." bo re
turned, quietly. "You have been for
six years trying to cure mo and bnvu
not succeeded yet."
She looked down: her color came
nnd went swiftly; she had no answer
ready.
"How do you explain that?" ho per
sisted. There was a faint flicker of a amile
about the corners of her mouth, but
she suppressed It sternly.
"Perhaps It Is because I have not
been sufficiently In earnest ia trying
to do so," was her reply.
His grasp tightened on the small,
soft hands he held In his.
"Then why will yon ujt give up try
ing aliogether, Grace?" he asked
quickly.
Put to this question he received no
satisfactory answer.
Six weeks had passed nway. Tho
season was almost at an rod. Already
the numbers were considerably thin
ner on tho beach, In the gardens, nnd
on the golf course. Mrs. Miller's
housi had been crowded since Juno,
but during the last xviek two leaves
had been taken out of the dining table,
aud the gas had not been lighted in
the second drawing-room.
In the balcony of Cliff House cn
evening In September Hugh Cameron
was talking to Mrs. Miller. Tho moon
was nt tho back of the house; the
balcony lay la the shadow; Inside the
open wludows all was silent nnd de
serted. There wns tho last fete of the
season nt the gardens, nnd the guests
had betnken themselves thither.
Mrs. Miller lay back in her wicker
chair, hor face white and set In the
dim half-light. While the soft swish
of the waves stole up from the beach
below, nnd the distant strains of the
band were wafted on the fresh even
ing air, for tho first time she realized
to the full the strength of the torrent
It wns her duty to stem. With Flor
ence Martin, a coarse, loud voiced,
vivacious blonde, the boy was simply
Infatuated: but for his youth and in
experience he would never have been
her prey; but Grace Miller bad touched
his higher nature, and to her he had
given the best love of his life.
So in the still twilight hour Grace
Miller recognized that sho must listen
to what Hugh Cameron had to say,
aud that she must answer him as a
man, and not as the boy she thought
him.
Mrs. Miller," he said, in a hoarse
broken voice. "I can be slloyit no
longer; you know that I love you."
"As I loved your mother," she re
plied, "and as I also love you, Hugh."
ut tho boy was not to be turned
aside. He knew exactlv what hn
meant, nnd he intended to say It.
:o, be answered firmly, "not in
the least as you loved my mother.
I love you ns a man loves tho woman
ho wants to marry, the one woman
;i tue world.
There was silence for a moment.
then her words were as firm as his
own.
"Eur a man does not marry his
grandmother." she expostulated.
Cameron drew a stool near to Mrs.
Miller's chair and sat down at her
feet.
"Grace, you are too goad a woman
to play with ine," he pleaded. "What
has your conduct to me these last few
weeks meant?"
Again she hesitated. Then she de
cided not to fence the question, not to
equivocate, but to tell him the whole
truth.
"Hugh," she said, gently. "I saw I
knew thnt your intimacy with Miss
.Martin could only end In disaster,
mignt possibly spoil your whole life
I tried to turn your love towards mv
self."
She had not anticipated the effect of
her words. The boy leant towards
hor, his face glowing, his pulses qulv
oring. ".My darling," be whispered rantnr.
onsly, "and now that I do love you?"
11 was a uittlcult moment. Grace
Miner braced herself to face It. Tn
fervid tones she spoke to the boy of
the claims of duty, of tho briefness of
love, of the beauty of life apart from
the tender passion, of the fact that
man is designed to be something bet
ter than a womun's plaything.
Cut of all she said only one point
lmpri-ssod Itself upon the listener's
mlud. Grace Miller did not love him,
and never could, and never would,
lie did not answer. He sat still, &az
ing out on the sea with eyes that saw
nothing, and yet every detail of the
scene was burnt in upon his brain as
he looked-the dark heaving waters,
tho silver streak of moonlight, the
silent, peaceful night.
"Hugh," said Mrs. Miller, ircntlv. at
length, "Hugh."
He otarted na If from a dream nnd
rose to his feet. Tho moon bad passed
the corner of the house, nnd lighted
his clear-cut, handsome features, and
hi beautiful, almost Italian eyes.
There was something In bia manner
that made Mrs. Miller shiver as she
glanced at him.
"Is there a true woman on earth?"
be cried. "I knew from the first that
Florence Martin waa false, even while
she drew me to her I hated her. But
you I would have ataked my Immor
tal soul on your sincerity."
Mrs. Miller's heart was beating Into
her throat; a choking sensation over
powered her. It never occurred to
her that he would view It In that light
She caught his hand In hers.
"It was for your mother's sake,
Hugh," she panted, "for your mother's
sake, to save you from one wbq was
utterly unworthy of you."
He turned upon her fiercely.
"In what are you better than she?"
he asked, passionately. "She fooled
me so did you. You have acted lie;
yon have broken my heart and you
tell me It was for my mother's sake."
Then without another word be left
ber.
In the little hollow on the beach be
low, as the long hours crept on to
ward the dawn, tho flowing tide
stirred the shells and pebbles with
a gentle rythmical motion. The grace
ful tendrils of seaweed nttached to the
rocks floated back nnd forth nnd back
in the water that had returned to thera
once more. Slowly, slowly the Incom
ing flood drew nenrer to tho foot of
the cliff, where, ou the hard dry sand,
a man lay face downwards. Nearer
and yet nearer It came to tho motion
less form with a soothing, caressing
murmur ns to a tired child until It
broke upon the fingers of the out
stretched band nnd stilt the silent
figure lny rigid nnd undisturbed.
When tha morning dawned, nnd the
little white aniled boats left tbo shore
In the glad sunlight of the opening
day, there was found, at tho foot of
tho cliff, where the winding path leads
up to Mrs. Miller's house, a man's
bat with a piece of paper pinned In
side, on which wns written the one
word "Gocd-by," and the hat was
Identified as that of Hugh Cameron.
So it came tr pass that In one single
day Grace Miller's hnir turned white.
Co nlso it was t'jat when a month
later John Howard, before leaving for
Glasgow, for a position iu one of tho
principal banks iu that city, nsked her
once again If eho would bo hla wife,
she answered she bad no heart for
nintriiiiony and no love for nny man.
Thus in ono short month she lost the
two persons whj were tho centre of
her world.
Time passed awny. Then, after two
years, one blustering autumnal day.
when the waves wero breaking on the
beach with n sound like thunder, John
Howard came again.
He entered Mrs. Miller's own little
room and stood before ber. Her thin,
worn face, nnd dark shadows under
hor eyes struck a chill to his heart.
'Grace," he blurted out, his love In
his voice, "are you still grieving for
Cameron?"
She looked up at him, smiling
through her tears.
"Why should you think I am still
grieving for any one?" she asked.
He touched her eyes, her forehead,
her cheek.
"You forget," she answered. "Time
changes one. "It Is eight years since
you first knew me, John."
He drew ber nearer to the window
and studied ber face as If he would
read her very soul.
"The boy is still nlive," he said
quietly, i saw him in London last
week."
She started nnd turned very pale;
then swayed slightly as If she would
have fallen, but she did not yield to
Howard's supporting nrm.
"Tell me nil." she said faintly.
Still with his eyes upon her face
Howard went on.
"After he left you that evening he
spent the night on the beach, but
walked to the junction in time to
catch the first train to London in the
morning. Ho left his hat, with the
paper lu It, ns a means of reveuglns
himself on you."
Then he asked the question that was
burning on his tongue.
"Grace, do you care for Cameron?"
The pink stole back Into her cheeks,
the light Into her eyes, the smilo to
her Hps.
"I, care for him more than nny cne
lu the world, except"
"Yes," he said, "except except "
"Except yourself,'' she replied.
The words were uttered under her
breath, yet they reached his ear. He
bent his bead to look Into her eyes.
"Reflect what you are saying,
Gra.-e," he urged. "Once you did not
care for me at all."
Her lashes dropped upon her cheeks.
"I always cared," she whispered.
"Then why did you answer 'No' fur
six long years.?"
"It was a woman's 'No,' Joto."
"And now?"
"If I have grieved it was not for
Hugh Cameron nlocc."
"Then for whom, sweetheart?"
He took the answer from her liis,
but It was not given in words".
Waverley Magzaine.
Commerce llnled bjr the Tide.
For some twenty centuries, the com
merce of London has drifted up with
the tide, and down with the tide. Tho
strenuous Romans of old found a town
of the Britalus at Liu-dyu, and con
quered It; and the strenuous Saxons
conquered the town the Itnmnnu lm,t
left. Tho strenuous Danes made them
selves masters of the Saxons, nnd then
came the strenuous William of Nor
mandy, and built the massive tower
over .hare to dominate the city and
port. But In London to-day tho com
merce still drifts, and Is steered. Nono
of the great ports of the world has had
a longer or more varied history; It is
tho heart of the greatest of commercial
nations, and the cradle of the mistress
of the seas; but It is still regulated by
tho tile. It Is at last well proved, this
philosophy of drifting nnd steering.
Who can say that It will not continue
to rulo the world for another 2000
years? Its methods ore not brilliant,
but they are sure. John Corbiu, tn
bcribuer s.
Madagascar pgpr, ,
One of the oldest tribes of Madagas
car has the secret of niuklcg a peculiar
but beautiful and lasting paper from
the pulp of a native shrub, which they
guard very Jealously. Each family of
the tribe is provided with a few sheets
of the paper, on which ore recorded
the family traditions, and beyond this
It Is seldom used, except for transcrib
ing the laws of the Mohammedan re
ligion. Sometimes under ' pressing
necessity, they will sell a small quanti
ty of It. It Is said that the process of
making It was discovered by a
Mohammedan who was shipwrecked
there In the middle of the ninth cen
tury, and desired some enduring ma
terial on which to copy bis water
soaked Koran.
. A Koath of Mondays.
As each day of the week la observed
as Sunday by some nation, a month of
Sundays is just an ordinary month.
The first day of the week Is our Chris
tian Sunday; Monday ts the sacred day,
of the Ferslans; Wednesday of the As
syrians; Thursday of the Egyptians;
Friday of the Turks, and Saturday la
the Sabbath of the Hebrews. Detroit
Free Press.
WALLER'S AWFUL TBIP
EXPEDITION ACROSS SAMAR. P. I
BY HUNCER-CRAZED MARINES.
Living on Stray lngs nnd ifonts For Day
Maria Inaane by All tha Miliary of the
Adventure, ttia Major In Command
Killed Two Natives.
Major Littleton W. T. Waller and
Lieutenant John II. A. Day were court
martialed nt Manila on a charge of
killing two natives without trial on
the Island of Samnr.
It has been urged in exculpation thnt
the horrors of a trip across Snmnr
drove Major Waller innd, nud below is
given the first official report of that
disastrous expedition.
The Eastern mall has brought the
report of Major Waller on the famous
expedition conducted by blm across
the Island of Samnr. Major Waller's
reports arc formal aud do not go Into
details, but ihe news of the affnlr is
contained in a report from Lieutenant
W. R. Shoemaker, U. S. N., who con
ducted tho relief expedition that suc
cored tho marines.
After detailing tho arrival In the
American linos of Captain Torter nud
Lieutenant Williams, with a portion
of the men. tho report says:
Captain Porter nnd LIcutennnt A. S.
Williams, in conversation, gave mo
substantially tho following account of
their wanderings:
"On Janunry 1. being then on half
rations, with very little food left,
Major Waller decided to split the par
tyhe taking Uftceu of the strongest
men nud pushing on for Basey, nud
Captain Porter following his troll ns
rapidly as possible with tho main
body.
"On the sacoiid n native came back
from Waller with a note stating that
he. Waller, had given up the idea of
getting through aud would return,
und directing Porter to make directly
for the river nnd build rnfts for the
entire party. This Tortcr tried to do,
but failed to find wood that would
flout.
"It was mining hnrd nt this time,
nnd tho river was about ten feet above
Its normal level and running with vio
lence. As Major Waller did not ap
pear, Porter sent Captain Bearss to
ascertain bis plans, then return nnd re
port. Bearss failed to return, but he
reached Waller nnd went on with him.
"On the third, I think, Porter pushed
ahead to get assistance with eight of
the strongest men, leaving Williams to
follow with the crippled aud lame ns
far as the boat, secreted on the way up,
to be used in an emergency like the
present.
"Porter reached the boat, but found
she had been damaged and was unfit
for use. So be started on a twenty-five
mllo 'hike for Laming, reaching there
with three men on the afternoon of
the eleventh. Five men had given out,
but. Jiving on two dogs that strayed
their way, they finally reached tho
post.
"Th? relief expedition, under Lieu
tenant Williams, First Infantry, on ac
count of the height of the river, was
unablo to get uway until the morning
of tho fourteenth. Williams deserves
the highest praise for bis twenty-five
miles' fight against the current and up
the rapids, hauling his boats along by
hand n good part of tho way.
"It was not until the morning of the
seventeenth thut be reached the starv
ing marines lu their last stopping place
near the river. Their condition nt the
time was terrible. For days no man
among them had strength to curry a
rlflerlrle. Nine of thein bad either gone
crazy or had fallen by the troll, half
dead from starvation nnd exposure.
"It bad rained steadily for eighteen
days. Lieutenant A. S. Williams had
made every effort to get them along,
but had to abandon them. He could
only gave the men who were able to
reach the boat by the river, the prob
able point of arrival of the relief expe
dition. "He got th?re on the night of the
sixteenth Inst., bis party having been
without food, except roots, the pulp of
plants, nnd a very few sweet potatoes,
for fifteen days.
"To further complicate matters the
native bearers, about thirty In number,
became sulky, practically refusing as
sistance to the white meu. They would
build shucks as a protection from the
continual downpour for themselves
only, aud knowing the cdibla roots
and plants were more skilful In ob
taining food.
"A time came when no white man
could carry a rifle, nnd those not lost
were In the bands of the natives. Un
der the ultered condition it required
considerable diplomacy on the part of
Lleuteuunt Williams to handle them
at all.
"Just before reaching the river two
bearers tried to kill Williams, stabbing
him about the chest with a bolo. He
tried to shoot, but bad not sufficient
strength to pull the trigger.
"Then they tried to kill him with
his own pistol, but did not kuow how
to work the weapon. W'llllaius was
rescued by a few of his men who tot
tered up, armed with sticks, and the
natives took to the bush.
"No Filipinos were seen In the re-
glon, there being no food. The relief
party saw some coming from the dl
rectiou of Herinane, so it is probable
that the Insurgents about there got
wind of the desperute condition of the
marines and were hurrying up to take
advantage of It. Belief came just in
time.
"It took practically all of January
18 to get the sufferers, thirty-one in
number, including two officers, eighteen
on stretchers unable to move, across
the river aud out through the surf to
the vessel. The job was finished at
0.30 p. iu., and at 7 we sturted for
Tacloban district direct, as an army
surgeon at Lanang said thut an hour
saved iu truuslt might meuu an arm or
leg to some. We reached Taclobun
at 8 a. m., and the worst cases were at
once transferred to the hospital.
"The others, Including eight or ten
natives, not Included In the above total
of thirty-one, I transported to Basey,
seeking Major Waller. His party ap
pears, from the statements of the of
ficers, to have been reduced to nearly
the same extremity as the other. They
bad practically given up hop when the
opportune capture of a small boy, the
only native seen, resulted la their get
ting through to the coast."
THE FORCE OF VIBRATION. .
An Architect Tells Why a Fiddle Can
Hhake a rireat Building.
"What force least expected does
the greatest damage to buildings?"
a News representative asked a well
known architect. '
"It Is difficult to tell. But I will
venture to any thnt you could never
expect violin playing to Injure the
walls of a building. Yet thnt Is cer
tainly the case. There have been In
stances when the walls of stone aud
brick structures have been seriously
Impaired by tho vibrations from a vio
lin. Of course these cases are un
usual, but the facts arc established.
The vibrations of a violin ore some
thing terrible In their unseen, un
bound force, and when they come Tn
contact with regularity they bear their
influence upon structures of ston,
brick or Iron. Of course It takes con
tinuous playing for many years to
loosen masonry or to make Iron brit
tle, but thnt result Is obtained. In
the great Masonic Temple in Chicago
I have thought of what the result
might be If ft man would stand on the
first floor, at the bottom of the nineteen-story
light well, and play there
continuously. Tho result could be
more canlly seen there than almost
any place else, because the vibration
gathers fores ns It sweeps upward.
A man c?.a feel the vibrations of a
violin on an Ironclad ocean vesse
nud at the same time be unable to
hear tho nuslc. It Is tho regularity
of the vibration which means so much.
Like the constunt dripping of wnter
wearing away a stone, the incessant
vibration of the violin makes Its way
to the walls, and attacks their solid
ity." "But why doesn't this vibration af
fect the player?"
"Because n man Is a flexible object.
He can give way to motion and re
sume his place ngnlu. A fin me build
ing would not be damaged by vibra
tlon, becnuse the timbers nre flexible.
But It Is different with masonry.
"You may hava noticed that a dog
crossing the room will shake the en
tire building no matter how smulr a
dog. A dog can shake a suspension
bridge. There are some great and
valuable bridges which dogs are never
nllowed to cross, except when carried.
You see, in that case it is the regu
larity of the vibration that is so pow
erful. The dog's movement is a fixed
and positive institution. The first
step on the bridge is not noticed so
much, but every step comes Just alike,
at the same interval, and with the
same firmness. The force gathers
momentum, and each step makes the
bridge sway more. But there Is an
other way that it may perhaps be il
lustrated better. As you sit thero
raise ono foot partially on tip-toe.
That's It. Now work your Uaee up
and down rapidly and regularly. See
how everything la the room rattles
and the floor shakes? That illus
trates the dog step's power better
than anything else. You nnd I nnd
all our friends could not jump up and
down In this room nnd shake tho floor
as you have just shaken it while sit
ting down nnd using only the force
of one leg. It Is the regularity of tho
vibration which Is powerful.". Indian
apolis News.
Why Not Vlvleect Babies.
The same arguments which would
lead us to vivisect the Inferior dumb
animal would lead us to vivisect also
the inferior human animal, says Henry
C. Merwln, Iu the Atlantic. A grown
dog is equal in intellect to n child a
year old; it is at least equally suscepti
ble to pain, and in point of love nnd
affection It Is much the superior cf the
child. Why not vivisect the child as
well as the dog? A criminal, though
superior in Intellect to the dog, is not
or may not be, his superior from tho
moral point of view. Why not vivisect
blm?
In classical times human vivisection
was practiced upon a lurge scale; and
it would be easy to construct a plausi
ble argument In favor of it. We take
the life of a murderer; why not vivi
sect him? What right has he to be
be exempted from torture any more
than an unoffending dumb animal, who
is equally susceptible to puiu? Besides,
It Is a fact, to which attention has
often been called, that, in the Interest
of medical science, It would be much
more profitable to dissect men alive
than it is to dissect horses or dogs
alive. In other words, it would "pay"
better. Tho vivisection of dumb ani
mals Is defended oa the grouud that
It "pays," and it Is bard to see why the
vivisection of criminals could not be
defended on the Bamo ground. Shull
not one criminal be put to torture, if
thereby something may be discovered
which will prolong the lives of many
Innocent, or comparatively Innocent
persons?
Beggars In Borne,
Everybody who comes to Romo must
expect to be swiudled and disappointed.
There are many Illusions, and you will
be greatly disappointed when you ap
proach them and they fade away. You
will be swindled by shopkeepers, hack
men, peddlers nnd everybody that you
have anything to do with, and the beg
gars will annoy vou with their per
sistence like the fakirs and flower girls
that follow you upon the street, but
all this is a part of the experience of
everybody who comes here; only such
annoyances are greater In Rome than
in most other places. Begging is a pro
fession, as In every other Italian city,
aud the profits are much larger, be
cause there are more strangers to ap
peal to. None but Inexperienced beg
gars ever approach a native Roman,
because tbey know It Is useless, but
they save all their energy and pathos
for strangers, particularly Americans
and English, whom they follow with
the greatest persistence. William E.
Curtis, In the Chicago-Record-Herald
; Maeoasnl'l Watch Mania.
Slgnor Mascagnl, the composer at
"Cavallerla Bustlcana," baa a positive
mania for watches, of which he la
said always to carry three in hi pock
ets. One la of gold, with bis monogram
In diamonds; another Is of silver, and
the third, which Is of huge proportions,
U ot nickel. ...
MSB
New York City. This stylish blouse
a made of Russian green Venetian,
wltn white peau de sole trimming.
It Is adjusted with shoulder and un-
wishes' oibeov jacket.
dcr-arm scams only. A deep pleat ex
tends from shoulder to belt in the back,
tapering toward the waist lu V -shaped
outline.
The same pleat appears In front,
giving a becoming breadth to tho
shoulders. This effect is especially
appropriate for slender girlish figures.
The fronts nre deeply underfneed with
silk and rolled back to form revcrs
which meet the tufn'-down collar in
notches. Several rows of machine
stitching are used to finish the edges of
collar and revers.
The jacket Is provided with a circular
skirt portion, which may, however, be
omitted If preferred, and the waist
finished with a narrow belt.
The sleeves ore shaped with upper
nnd tinder portions to tit the arm close
ly and flare In bell effect at the wrists.
LADIES' EMPIRE GOWN.
They have slight fulness on tho shoul
ders. Smart garments In this mode may be
made of the same material as the skirt
for outdoor suits. They may also be
developed In broad or ladles' cloth,
melton or cheviot, with silk or velvet
trimmings, and worn as separata Jack
ets. To make the jacket for a miss of
fourteen years will requlro one and
one-half yards of forty-four-luch mate
rial, with one-half yard of contrasting
material for trimming.
Graceful Empire Gown.
Soft, clinging fabrics, such as liberty
tatln, crepe de chine, Loulslne or silk
veiling are used for the graceful Em
pire gowns, which are constantly Gain
ing favor lu the fashion world.
The toilet Illustrated In the large
tiravg 1b made qf mauve silk crepe
with ecru Chantllly lnce for trimming.
The upper portion of the deop fitted
yoke li tucked and a broad band of
lace forms the lower part. The neck
is cut square nnd finished with narrow
.lace beading run through with violet
velvet ribbon. ,
The full skirt Is gathered at the up
yer edge and arranged on the yoke, a
imooth adjustment being maintained
under the arms.
The crepe falls In long, graceful folds
to the floor and the skirt train slightly
In the back. An elaborate lace trim
ming adorns the bem of tho gown and
forms a deep point In front.
The sleeves are trimmed with tuck
ing and luce to conform with the yoke,
providing broil Hues at the shoulder
that add couderably to the general,
effect. They are gathered at the lower
edge, and adjusted on fitted lac cuffs,
ovor which they droop stylishly.
To make the gown In medium size
will Require five and one-half yard of
forty-four-inch material.
Sprla- Faaclea.
Scrollwork effects In braid.
Ropes of sllvar spangle oa light
mnnx-
Vines of frosted silver spangles ot
white lnce. I
The use of heavy and fine lace
one gown.
Silk "tape" ribbon sewed on in leaf
like figures.
Fringe, in silk, chenille, ribbon vol!
vet and silver.
Straps stitched only on one edgrj
tne otner being leu loose.
Squares of lace with black velvet rIV
bon thrended through the meshes.
A largo knot of white satin rlbbo;
on the blouslng front of a blue coa
opening over a vest of rich luce.
The girlish "Newport."
The new Jacket called the "New
port" Is tnado of fawn colored glac
taffeta. It Is long and tight fitting
pleats giving the needed fulness, an
Is strapped with bands of sarin in a!
darker shade. On the collar there art
medallions of ecru lace.
Fin For the Han.
Larger effects nre the rule tn ha!
pins, some of the most striking belnt
the long pearl ones, which are orna
ments nnd hat pins combined. Boms
women wear two or three In various
farts of the hnt.
Novelty In Stocking!.
Black stockings with a vertical
stripe consisting of a small floral de
sign In two shades of pale blue art
among the novelties In hosiery.
One of the Late Fancies.
One of fashion's latest fancies Is the!
Gibson waist, which Is especially ef-l
feetlve when developed In white or!
colored moire. Plain waists of this I
kind show the fabric to splendid ad
vantage.
The Gibson waist illustrated is rondel
of oyster white moire, with tiny black I
velvet buttons for decoration. The I
foundation Is a glove-fitted feather
boned lining which closes In the cen
tre front.
Broad pleats extend from shoulder I
to belt back and front, tapering to
ward the bvlt. These pleata are the
essential feature of the Gibson waist,
and give a broad effect to the shoul-
ders that Is very becoming to slender
figures. The back Is fitted smoothlj
across the shoulders and has slight
fulness at the waist, arranged in tiuy
pleats. A perfect adjustment Is maut-j
talued under the arms.
Tho- fronts are plain and fasten In
visibly in the centre. Hows of black
velvet buttons are placed directly on
the edges of the fronts. The machine
stitching and buttons are extended on
the collar in an uninterrupted line, the
collnr closing in the back.
The bishop sleeves are fitted with
Inside seams and have comfortable
fulness on the shoulders. They are
gathered at the lower edge and ar
ranged on deep, fitted cuffs. A narrow
velvet belt competes the blouse.
Peau do sole, taffeta, corduroy, satin,
French flannel or heavy waist fabric
such as .pique, linen or madras are
X.ADHS' OIB80K WAIST,
appropriate for the mode. Glbact
waists are reldom trimmed, machlr"
stitching and' buttons being the uu.
finish.
To make the waist la the medlu:
size will require two yards of thirty
slx-lneh material.