THE PEACE WHICH PASSES UNDERSTANDING. 0 -(i:?r 1 By MRS. HARRIET PRESCOTT SPOFF. AOK, Ll'Cl.V liml gone down X -ar-ar X lnl t,ip cII-v with B S'lJ" CX- 2 VI S Peditlon to what they vailed the slums. Hut she W never went In that manner .again. It became something In n way sacred. Into which she must enter nlone, 89 into n player, and liy ami by it grew to be a sort of sacramental ser vice. For after this tlrst glimpse of the sorrowful side of the world, of want and wickedness and the horrors of life in the darkest depths of the pity, she was full of questioning us to why such things were allowed, and the world teemed a dreary ami cruel place. She una h'T own sorrows, whl-h accented and heightened all this background ()f other people's sorrows, hut she felt she could bear hers better If it were not for theirs. And the tirst thing to do seemed to be to make theirs lighter, or to help them to bear them. And she took up the task, not eagerly, but as if Kb" must. It was while she was going about trora one place of Mirroring to another that she met Mrs. Hollands. "You are doing God's work, dear," the little noinan said one day when Miss Lucia tad gone in. and taking the tiny alco hol lamp from her bag had made the tea of which they were driiikiiifc a cor dial cup together. "You have enlisted on the Lord's side. You're helping Him fight the evil of the world." "Evil"' said Miss Lucia. "Why should there be evil in the world?" "Why should there be pood?" said Mrs. Hedlands. "Why should there be a world at nil?" "I don't know. I don't know." said Miss Lucia. wistful look In her dove yei. "And no one else knows," said Mr. Hedlands. "If it ivore meant to be known it would have been proclaimed from the housetops. There are some things better than knowing, and one of then: Is faith, and the Lord that knows nil things and knows what is best, knows there is more comfort and joy to be had from faith than from all The knowledge of the cherubim. When I was a child I was told that the cher ubim were those who knew and who went on God's errands, but that sera phim were those who loved and who stood in God's presence. And I had vast in my lot with the seraphim be fore I knew that." sue said, with a lit laugh. "Wouldn't you rather be illled with love, love throbbing in you like the Are In a red coal, and stand In God's presence than know all the se crets of the universe?" iMi.ss Lucia looked at her. more than a trifle amazed, For here was this lit tle bent and shriveled creature, living at the back of a tenement, in one small room, half under ground, where the tun never came, and where the damp oozed through the wall, talking high philosophy as it her thoughts kept al ways such a level. To be sure the place was exquisitely neat, and the little woman herself, al though her bands were sodden and her figure drawn by disease, was as clean as if In her Sunday best instead of a thin old cotton gown, lint her face, when Miss Lucia glanced at It again, a white and wau and pinched old face, seemed to wear a glory. The eyes looked out steady and wide, and blue as a bit of sky, and the smile was bea tific. Was it an old woman. Miss Lu cia asked herself, who, for the little cleaning her rheumatic joints would allow her to do, had her room from the Janitor, and a pittance that one day gave her bread and one day gave her meat, and many a day gave only an egg or an apple all day long? Or was ft a saint In a dust-colored gown and coarse white Handkerchief? "I I don't understand." said Miss Lucia, after a moment. "Would ynu--mlml telling nae how you came here?" No one could ever refuse anything to that winning voice of Miss Lucia's. "WTby, I was led," sail the little wom an, with a confident air, as if she still felt her hand in the grasp of the one ieadicg her. "Do you mean " "Oh, If you would like to know, my home was far awtiy. My father lived in the fear of God. My mother lived In the love of God. I was born with the love of God in me. Before I could peak I felt it. I remember what It .was to me in my childhood the sun shine seemed to belong to His smile, the blue sky to His home; I was happy like a little springing animal, and I al ways felt It was the Lord giving me my happiness. I was sure that lie was beautiful as the Ho wen; lie had made. 1 never picked a rose that It didn't make me feel ir was something belonging to Him. And the stars at night always seemed to me to be the lamps twinkling about His courts. He was as real to me an the universe It self. I didn't sec Ilim, but the door was always just about to open. My heart was full of lov!" "How fortunate, how fortunate you were !" "How blest I was!" "Why should one person be given -such, love, such faith In infancy, and another not find It even now?" "It is one of the questions not to be solved by us," said the little old wom an, "If we could answer such ques tions we should perhaps know how lo tnake a world." "I would like to niaka a world with no, evil in it!" "Oh, my dear, you would lose a great happiness If there were no evil to over come." "I can't think that evil Is In the iwsrld Just to give us the pleasure of overcoming It." "And you cau't think of any better Teasou. Why, then, do you think of It at all? That Isn't the task given you to do. Why not leave to God His own work? Tho bee that stings the peach for Its honey could never tell the rea son of the sweetness, the noft colors, the down, the rich Juice. Aro we any better able to tell the why and where fore of this earth? We don't know Jiow We csnie here on this round ball winging- lu space lu tho first place. It belong to the power that put It T?,TiJjr ourselves can make cue blade of grass grow, create one new life, one new flower, don't you think we could better trust the power that can?" "And did all that come to you be cause you loved God In the beginning and grew up In that love?" asked Miss Lucia. "It is a great thing to have grown up in that love." said the little woman, Joyously, "Hut If one hasn't done so, wouldn't It be well lo think of some of the multitude of rea-ons for this love? That might give one Just a germ of love, and then if one treated that ns one would the seed of a precious flower -gave It sun and air, and food, and care -you can't tell what a glorious blossom it might become!" "I don't know." said Miss Lucia again, wrinkling her brow doubtfully, "And see bow you have loved the Lord, ami yet and yl" gazing round the narrow room. "Where am I? How I am? Can one be any more than content? And If I am content, what further Is there to ask?" "You are content?" said Miss Lucia, turning in wonder. "I don't believe any of the people who live lu palaces and who roll in their carriages, tile people who wear purple nnd tine linen, ami fare sump tuously every day, are halt as content ns I am," said the little woman trium phantly. "I hope they are. I wish they were. Hut they can't be any more so." . ,, , . "And yet " "Oh, you would see. If you were In my place, that the things yon are thinking of don't count." "Hut you were born lo better things. You were educated you must have known luxury " "Yes. And I am glad of Hie etpor ienee. 1 enjoy remembering it. too, Hut I never I seldom miss ir. When the darkness of this room chances to oppress me. I think of One who had not where L lay His head, anil then 1 don't want to fare better than He. and I feel I have not a right to so much as this, and It opens into more than a cas tle hall. And when I would sometimes like some surer or some more bountiful food, I remember them walking through the fields, rubbing the ears of corn in their bands, ami my crust be comes shrew-bread. Yes. now and then I wish I had some hot tea or a bit of chicken to carry to the sick wom an on the next landing, but I know that if the Lord thought It best for her to have It it would be there." "And you can acquiesce in such mis fortune?" "I have acquiesced in worse If there is nnythlng to be called misfortune. For I suppose you would call It that to lie stripped of your money nnd left without relatives while still a young woman" there was a melancholy in the tone In spite of her. "And you didn't miss tlic:i!" "Of course I missed them! Hut I thought of my mother's j v in her new life, of my father released from the old awe and fear, of my brother spared temptations ami presently I forgot myself." "You poor chill!" "You mustn't piiy me. I didn't pity myelf. And before 1 could quite for get myself it drew ice still nearer to God." "And thee. Hip money?" "Oh, I was young and strong. I found occupation, and had ail I needed. In time 1 married. And if I was happy befo"e. if, in a way, I was in heaven before, I was in the seventh heaven then. Hut I never left God out of it. I felt as if He not only had given It to me. but was sharing it all with me. And my husband I don't know how to say lt-iny husband seemed a part of God Himself. And then there came a dreadful awakening. The husband I the man who" her voice choked ' he he used money I va sL'k we need ed it he betrayed his trust." The tears tilled the old eyes. Uul they did not overflow. "I thoifght at first II was because I bad loved him too much. As if I were 1 hi- one concerned there! As if any one could be loved too much! As if every pulse of love we give another isn't given to God Him self! No, no. he had been sure of him self, strong in himself, proud of him self: God had pity on him and took the false foundation out from under him and left him clinging to the rock that was higher than he. ' "And we had a great content then, a great happiness. Hut all that trouble tool; the vital f.ii'ce out of him. I sa v the life fade out of him before my eyes. Oh. my heart, if that heavenly baud had not held mine whciv should I have been in that blller loneliness! Then I look the child end came away where the shame would not rcch him, and afiiT a time I gave music losons to such scholars as I could tlud. at cheap rates, for I had no one behind me. At lirst Ihe minister helped nie, lie was a good man. Hut when he went away another came, and he was still a stran ger when I learned what was before me. "My boy was brought I:: from Ilie street with n broken buck. Oh. even Ihe heavenly hand failed tne for a "liort time then. I lived and breathed through the boy. As h lay there with nothing but suffering before him my I ul tremblid inside me to see him, to think of him. I held his little thin hand without a thought., a feeling, rn ronsclous of anything but pity. And when he went I went a Utile, way with him. "Perhaps It was then I found again the hand I had lost," said the little woman, smiling now, "for I was sick ti good while and knew nothing. I was In u hospital, and nfter that for a long tlau 1 was lu a place where they take care of people whose nerves have given out. And (hen by and by I took what I could llnd to do, and I went my way holding that hand. And I have seemed to walk just above the sorrow and trouble, even for a while to be In sensible to pain. And tbe pain was se vere enough, for exposure and want have brought me by slow degree to this jvUlcU Seyms U 9U so grievous us once it might have seemed to me. Hut the presence never leaves me now; it Is with me while I go about my work; it Is with me when I sit down to rest; i is with tne when I wake in the dark night, nnd hear the roar of the city like the waves of a sen breaking on the shore." "And it makes you happy even here?" "Kveu here." said the little woman, with a pleasant laugh. "And you want nothing better?" asked Miss Lucia, half bewildered. "Oil, yes. I have my dreams. Some times I think of the dwellings Into which the Lord entered lu the old days in the old land. I think bow glad I would be to have liecn the woman who broke the alabaster box over the Master's feel-oh, just lo have done that for Him! Or I think of the joy of the woman in the throng who touched Him. or or the one who was bent double nnd the Lord smiled on her and said, 'Thou art loosed from thy intlrm ity.' Or when I am sitting in the dark, may be. I think if a light should softly come all about me here, nnd (here should be a great glow, and Ihe sound like soft music of sweeping garments, and 1 should feel a hand upon my head and all should be dark and still .main. Ob. truly, something like that has happened! There was no glow, there was no sound, there was no touch, but all at once my heart was In a rapture, and t felt the presence, a real presence, I felt tho love! Yes, I diil! I was sure that for one Instant the Lord Himself had been in this lit tle room " "Mrs. Hedlands oh-do you think could that happen to one who had not been, like you. born Into that love!" said Miss Lucia, trembling, ami put ting down her teacup. "Try it!" said the little woman, joy fully. "Try It. dear! Just take it for granted that the Lord Is good, that Ho loves you. that He Is there and waiting for you. He will become a living pow er in your heart and your life. Yes, He will. And you will think you never knew happiness before!" Miss Lucia was silent a little while as she sat there. "I don't suppose," she said then very timidly, "that you feel, living down here, that you do all the good yon can do somewhere else? I have a great house that I bought since I began began " "To help the poor?" "And I have made a home of It for women who have no other home." said Mis Lucia hesitatingly. "And If you would go up there and live in the sweet, clear air and In real comfort yon would live a great while longer" "I don't want to live a great while longer, dear." "Not if you are doing good? You have done me a great deal of good to day. I always knew there must be some good reason for my always want ing to come in here. I know you conld , do others a great deal of good If you were up there. There are people need Ing yon there. And you can't always wmk enough to pay for this room," as the little woman shook her head. "Hut you will pay for all you have there by just being you! Won't you come? You shall have a room looking to the east " "And it would be (he Chamber of Peace. lint somehow, dear. I think my place is here. If it. were (bid's will no,. even when the time comes that I can't work it will make the people ten der If they help me out and they don't haw much here to make them ten dec " "I want to be made tender," cried Miss Lucia. "And all these people about you now can come and see you " "Oh. but there Is work for me here." "And there is more work for you there. Mrs. Hedlands. I am coming for you. rain or shine. ' And you needn't talk to me." said Miss Lucia, laughing sweetly. "I know It is God's will!"-The Interior. "Mell.a" TimlB Mark, A dei ision was given December 1." at Clerkenwcll in the case in which Charles William Howell was sum moned, under the Merchandise Marks act, for applying the word "Melba" to a sound-producing disc machine. The prosecutors were the Gramaphone Company and Mine. Melba. Mr, d'Kyncourt found against the defendant, being of opinion that the sound-box and the record were so con nected In the mind of the purchaser that the defendants might obtain ad vantage at the expense ot the prosecu tors. Mr. Colam said he should appeal. Mr. d'Kyncourt imposed a line of '20, with ten guineas cost, and directed that the defendant's soundboxes should be depo-ited with the court pending appeal, and that no further "Melba" sound-boxes should be pro duced meanwhile. Loudon Mail. Mii-lml Alls9" Was His Contiltt. Among tho 1 1 newsboys who were given an entertainment by the women of Grand Avenue Congregational Clnifi-li were several Italians with the musical luiiiri of the land of their fathers. One bright-eyed, dusky skinned little ( hap was asked his name by one of the managers. "Augolo," promptly replied the little fellow. "Are you any relation to Michael Au gelo?" smilingly asked his quesiioncr. "Sure, he's my cousin," was tho prompt response. "He works in tho bootblack stand. There he Is. over there. Come hire, Mike." 'Ihe questioner ventured on no fur ther jests suggested by the names of Ihe guests. Milwaukee (Wis. I Sentinel, Ara Hrothera follla? Are brothers polite to their sisters? 'ibis is not a suggestion for a "silly season" correspondence, but a question of serious Import. On tho answer to it depended a sisler's reputation, when she was seen home to her boarding house after the theatre by a young man, "Brother?" cried tho Indignant lady who had sat up to open the door to the Ute comer. "That was no broth or! Why, 1 saw him raise his hat to you when be walked away !" London chronicle. 1.?. I.arseit Kechlvit. The biggest beehive in, the world 1. a natural oue In Kentucky, known ns the ".Mammoth beehive." It is lu real ity a huge cave, the mail of which Is 150 feet li I compartment !gb, the door covering teu actus in exteut. Chanting; lis Matinr, A rather surprising experiment Is, re ported ns made at tho l'nrls Acndetny of Sciences. Young radishes were cul tivated In n glass retort nfter a pecul iar process, using a concentrated solu tion of glucose. Under this treatment the vegetable took up starch abun dantly and Increased greatly lu size nnd fost Its peppery qualities, resem bling closely In every way an ordinary potato. The Imaginative Frenchman who relates the experiment suggests the possibility of producing various vegetables one from the other, or of securing nrtllieial vegetable growth by chemical means. Practical Poultry Point". ) Keep your fowl slock young; old Cocks as well ns hens eat a lot of food, und no cock is necessary except during the hatching season. Grade your eggs as to siae: It Im proves the sample, nnd consequently the price. Large, loose-feathered hens of the Cochin or Hrahmn type lay small eggs, nnd but few of them. They nre also large caters and poor rangers. Close-feathered, medium-sized hens of the Leghorn type are non-sitters, good rangers and great layers. It costs nearly as much to keep a hen that lays eighty eggs In Ihe year ns one that lays 1 .10. Fowls should not be fed near the door of your dwelling house, or they will stand about all day looking for food. Fowls roosting in trees and open buildings seldom lay many eggs, and lliose they do lay are often laid nsuay and lost. tints I.sti-li. This Is a simple thing, but will save many a crop from total destruction by stock If adopted. This gate will open only by human hands, never out of order. Cut or saw two elbow slots as Indicated lu the latch, large enough to slide easily on a large nail driven through the cross-piece into the slols of the latch as indicated by ihe two dots. The upright slots should be about one nnd a half inches long, and fhe horizontal ones about four inches long, space above latcli about two Inches, mortise lu the post about two inches longer than width of latch. I. D. Bible, In The F.pitomist. Fattening the Old Tow. Permit me to relate my experience. I once bad a cow that I considered an extra good milker. It was before the days of butter fat and Habcock tests, so I might have been mistaken. Sure ly she was one of the best in the herd, so I kept on milking her much too long. When at last I was compelled lo turn her oil I purposed, to make beef tor my own family use. I commenced feeding corn, but she soon refused to eat. She was always thin and rough looking, as some good milkers used to be. What was I to do? The nearest .mill where I could get corn ground was twelve miles distant, nnd It was the beginning of winter, with bad weather and bad roads. The patent feeds were not then Invented, so I offered her shelled corn. She ate eagerly, and in six weeks I hud the very finest beef In nil my forty years of farming, teuder and juicy, just the thing for one's own eating. She had with the shelled corn only common prairie hay; not n tight, warm barn, but a cheap stable of n sin gle thickness of common boards. I would not guarantee the same result another time, but I would certainly try the slielled corn. J. G. Osborn, lu the Tribune Farmer. Feeding 'rotn I arge ftilnn. I covered the ensilage with chaff and tarred paper and put on the weight. The ensilage kept well until opened, when it troubled about heating and moulding, and nearly one-half was spoiled. In the lirst silo each pit hud 144 square feet, and I could feed fust enough from the top to prevent mould ing; now I had 25li square feet, and I was In trouble again. I read every thing published about ensilage, yet no body told uie what I wanted to know. The sixth winter I covered with chaff, then a layer ot boards, then tarred paper, followed by a second layer of boards, nnd then a foot of straw to keep the boards from warp ing. During the winter I blundered along, trying several ways to keep the ensilage. As a last resort, 1 began on one side and took out ensilage one foot In depth nnd then covered with boards behind me as I proceeded across to the other side. After I had gone across and dug down another foot ami began to go back I found the ensilage very hot and mouldy under the boards. As I proceeded along backward, I thought of something new, which has proved to he just the right Ihing lu the right place. I put poor eusllage on top of the good and then two layers of boards, breaking Joints, and the good ensilage remained good. The poor ensilage and the boards excluded the air, and that ended the trouble. For live winters the same plan has been followed with good results. . It makes no difference how warm or how cold the winter, the ensilage nl ways comes out warm, fully up to blood heat, and there Is no chance for any to mould for very little Is ex posed nl one time. On no other farm do they handle ensilage In this way, Too often In other silos I have seen mouldy and frozen ensilage, both un lit for feed. In a round silo boards could not be handled very well for covering, and that Is why I prefer the square one. N. B. White, lu The Amer ican Cultivator. SpraTlne Potatoes Paid Fl Fold, A hullcliu of the Vermont station ays: Did you spray your potatoes this fear? If not, what per cent, of them O.tl you lose by. rot? The Vermont tz periment station furnishes some Inter esting data upon this subject. Last August It sprayed n portion of a po tnto field located beside one of the most traveled roads lending Into Bur lington. The soil was a well-drained sandy loam sod, well manured, plowed hi the spring and planted late In May. Two-thirds ot the piece was sprayed on Aug. ft. ami Sept. 5 with standard Hordeanx-I'nrls-green mixture (sis IHUtnds copper sulphate, four pounds stone lime, one-half pound parls green, forty gallons of water); one-third was sprayed solely with parls given. The late blight (which directly or Indirectly causes most of the loss from the rot of the tubers) was first seen on the unsprayed rows on Aug. 21. It spread very slowly, but when the tops were killed by frost Sept. L'.'l, fully !0 per cent, of the foliage on the uu spray rows were dead, being most killed by Ihe disease. No late blight could be found nt this time on the sprayed rows, where fully !H per cent, of the leaves were alive. The crop was dug Oct. M. The sprayed rows yielded at the rat. of 114 bushels per acre, and the unsprayed rows nt the rate of :t(U bushels per acre, n gain in lolal yield of only 43 bushels. But when the rotten tubers were sorted out the sprayed area pro duced at the rate of Ul" bushels per acre of sound, marketable potatoes, and the unsprayed area at the rate ot "al bushels per acre of sound nnd mar ketable potatoes. Might per cent, ot Ihe crop on the sprayed area was rot led, while Nd per cent, of that grown in ihe unsprayed area was lost by rot. The net gain was L'tll bushels per acre as n result of spraying with bor deaux mixture. Potatoes sold In Bur lington for (!' cents per bushel. The gain amounted, therefore, to $1."J. It cost about M per acre to spray, leav ing a net gain of $1.1l. These results are exceptional; but there were many liehls this fall, espe cially In northern Vermont, where there was as great or even greater "loss from rot. Some were hardly worth digging. Are j'ou planning to harvest ."it! or 111" bushels of potatoes per here next year? Do you expect to leave SH or only 8 per cent, of your crop lu ttie licld? Why not plant less land and still raise as many bushels? It Is one way to solve the help problem. Bor deaux mixture ought not to cost over three dollars per acre for each appli cation; In practice it usually costs much less than that. Is it not better to buy copper sulphate thau copper stock? Mirror and Farmer. Cut nnd 17 nmit Sitae There are some farmers iu this vicin ity who still put their silage in with out cutting, it is not convenient for some to secure cutting machinery, and others think they cannot afford this expense of cutting. There appears lo me to be a marked difference in the quality of the cut and the uncut silage, enough certainly to warrant quite an additional expense for the cutting if necessary. I visited the barn of a good farmer recently who is feeding silage for the second season. His silo is well built, his corn was secured without frosting and has kept without the least indi cation of mould; still there Is a strong odor from It, sufficient to attract the attention of any one before entering the barn, even at u time when the silage was not being disturbed. I saw his cows fed upon this silage. They, ate it greedily, and I was told there was no waste, nud that-the cows re sponded well at the pall. Still, that strong nnd rather unpleasant odor hung to everything. On my return I passed another barn, where whole silage was being fed, and I snielled it in passing. I said to the boy: "We will notice when we reach home und see It' any such smells reach us." We accordingly did so. I may say the boy bus beeu away to school for several weeks und has not been hand ling any silage during that time, and consequently Is an impartial judge. When we reached home we noted conditions at once, and both were firm ly of the opinion that If we had not known there were silo lu the barn we could not have determined that there were by nny smell. I am very sure this different condition comes from the culling, and I a in lirmly of the opinion that the liner the cutting is Tone the better. It would be interesting to uote the difference between silage from the shredder or blower, which has been thoroughly fined and mixed lit the process, nnd that obtained from the ordinary cutter and elevator. The Pines silage has been cut In one-for.rlh' inch lengths until this season. It was cut this year in one-half inch lengths, but is not so satisfactory as when cut liner. There are more leaves not fully cut, and it is not so light in color. It also appears t. cool more quickly and have more tendency to freeze. Where cutting machinery can be secured at reasonable rates or where there is a permanent farm power, silage can bo cut in cheaper thau it can be packed in without cutting, more, can be put In a given space and the feeding Is easier and more even between different ani mals. The silo Is to be one ot Hie principal factors lu advancing New Kuglaiid ag riculture, and every feature necessary for perfect work should be kept con stantly before tho people. B. W. Me Keen, In the Tribuue Farmer, Kuiprats of Japau Plua A silver tobacco pipe with a stem ten inches long Is used by the Kmpress of Japan. Tho bowl is small lu fact, only a quantity of tobacco sutlleient to give the smoker two or three whiffs cuu be put into It. Then the ashes are knocked out und the pipe Is carefully cleaned before It Is refilled a process gone through with many times lu tho course of au ufternoon. Chicago Nows. Tlia Bacrd While F.leplmnt. In Slum when a sacred elephant dies it Is given a funeral grander thuu that accorded lo princes of the royal blood. Buddhist priests odlclute, uud thousand of devout Elamese men and women fol'ow the deceased ani mal to the grave. Jewels represent ing much wealth nre burled with tha elephunU r " ' New York City. Simple waists with Test effects nre among the latest and niost attractive of the season and wU be greatly worn both with the ever ltl.OCSE WAIST. useful odd skirt and as parts of com plete gowns. This one buows admir able lines und Is ndapted to many materials, but In the case of the orig inal is made of onion brown chiffon taffeta with vest and trimming of ecru '.ace and Is worn with a belt and tie of silk iu a slightly darker shade. The ileeves nre the new "leg o' mutton" neu that nre full and draped above the elbows uud which give the broad Ihoulder Hue. The waist Is made with a fitted lin ing, which Is optional, fronts, back and est. The backs nre tucked to form Hox pieats that give tapering lines to the figure, the fronts to form full length pleats nt their edges and to yoke depth from the shoulders, the rest being arranged between the two fl Ln E DEJIQN former uud the closing made luvlslbly beneath the edge of the lert front. The sleeves are cut In one piece each, arranged over lilted linings that serve to hold the fullness In place. The quantity of material required for the medium size is four and u quarter yards twenty-one Inches wide, three and a half yards twenty-seven Inches wide or two and one-eighth yards forty-four Inches wide with one and one-elghtn yards of all-over luce for vest and collur. . - Of Pony Skin. The lutest for motoring is pony skin couts. They huve been found to be most luvaluuble for this sport and since a distinguished lady of Fngland discovered their worth no other ma terial has been quite so popular, i'ony skin Is a striking novelty. 'I he color of the rur la of a striking reddish brown, but the shade depends entirely upon the breed of the colt. The couts are made on a Monte Carlo model with muff and hut to mutch. The mult Is of eitreme size, and Is, therefore, unfit for any other purpose thuu motoring. The full length coats are u.t popular, uud they ure ustonlshlugly cheap. Squirrel Is very popular uud couts of It are sometimes lined with u chcuuer quality of squirrel. The sleeves are large uud full and they are u great protection to one when motoring. The cape effects ure worn considerably, und sometimes the coats ure made minus sleeves, the. cape serving equally us well. Motir huts are also "pretty U1U they are extremely becoming. Moch trimming is used, and It seems us though the days ot the ridiculous cos tuming for this purpose huve passed. tradla Pliiuiea. If osirlcu feathers ever threatened to glv way to puradiae plumes, some- mem thing has happened to turn the tld the olher way. The rogue of tho o tiich feather was very firmly Impressed" at the horse show. The handsomest hats there were loaded with ostrlct plumes lu every lovely color and gbadf of color. Light blue nnd light plus1 seemed to have the preference. Tliesi colors were not as a rule pastel tones, but the good, old-fashioned, clear toner sky-blue, baby blue nud rose pink. In Pale Kins, The simplest and prettiest of palf blue chiffon gowns has a shirred sklr trimmed with three wide tucks, Tbd waist Is low uud has a double round bertha collur or revers of pale blu chiffon velvet edged with frills of blu chiffon. Where tic collar meets Is I cluster of shaded blue and white chlf foil rosebuds with long stems rtnd end The satin bodice girdle Is very hlgn and jMiliited and fastened on the sidf with rosettes of chiffon. With SllflViilnr. When the Paris models began to come lu It was seen that nearly all tb new petticoats and drop skirts bad some stiffening set In at the bead Of the dust rutlle, while in a fow It as cended to the height the knee. Then some bright mind thought of put ting lu the petticoat a circular rutH of very light-weight halrc'otb, and M the puzzle was most satisfactorily solved by the Illy haircloth flounce, af It Is called. Nlue-Oored Walking Shirt Inrerted. Walking skirts that provide generous fullness and flare yet. are snug over tn hips make the latest and most graceful shown. The model Illustrated Is ads mlrable In every way and means con' fort to the wearer ns well as style. As shown It Is made of tan-colore cravenette stitched wllh cortlcelll sill und trimmed with fibre braid, but all BY fldY MflNTON. Hulling and skirting materials nre ap propriate ami simple stitching can be used as a stitching in place of the braid when preferred. The skirt Is cut In nine gores with, extensions at all front and side seams thut form the tuck pleats, and can be stitched ubove the pleats, as Illustrat ed, or finished with bauds of braid. The fullness at the back Is laid In in verted pleats that are stitched to match the seams and the upper edge can be finished with the bell or cut on dip outline and underfaced or bound as may be preferred. , The quantity of material required for he piedlum size Is eleven uud one quarter yards twenty-seven Inches wide, six and a quarter yards forty four Inches wide or live yards fifty two Inches wide when material has figure or nap; eight and a quarter yards twenty-seven, five and a quartet yards forty-four or four and a halt KINK UOHKD WAI.K1NU S1IBT, yards fifty-two Inches wide wueu uia terlsl has neither figure nor nap, wits; eight yards of braid to trim as illu trated.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers