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.