eT ——— podem AT SIX O'CLOCK. with the flames, and absolutely penni- less, for ker little property lay in ashes On the street at six o’clock when the people homeward flock before her. . There is something fascinating for the lover of his kind; At once she realized that her There is every sort of face in that anxious homeward race dreamy. selfish, lazy life was over. That the wisest physiognomist could eer expect to find. She had not a doilar to rebuild the “There's the face th filled with joy like a child with latest toy; 1 Toss { Bad b Kor whole There's the face that’s all preoccupied with business or care; . 1ouse whose rent had been her There's the face that bears its pain with a smile that’s all too plain; support, and her own home was mort- ’ There's the face that has the hallowed look that pictured angels weal. gaged to its full value. She knew well There are faces crafty, hard; there are lovely faces marred ' With a look of hate and cunning that the Father never gave; There are faces filled with woe, in this human torrent’s flow; There are faces with the harried look of hireling or of slave; There are faces gentle, sweet, that are blessed ones to meet; There are faces harsh, repellant with their settled smile of scorn; There are faces that-impart stories of a broken heart— Faces sad that shone with pleasure when they started forth at morn. Oh, the faces on the street that at six o'clock you meet As they hurry from the places where they toil from morn.to night— Is there one amid the throng you could cheer with smile or song? Is there one whose heart is heavy while your love could make it light} Some will hurry home to weep til they lose their cares in sleep, Some will carry home the sunshine that the waiting loved ones need. >Tis the open book of life with its tale of love and strife, Written large and clear and simpl e so that he who runs may read. a —&. W. Gillilan, in Baltimore American. eee. THE SACRAMENT OF POYERTY ae, somone. WE o BLUE sky, and a blue sea, 2 and a large white house Oo A © facing it—in front, a stretch RS: R of firm, gray sands, upon £ which the waves kept up an eternal whispering—be- hind, a grove of orange trees, the subtle fragrance of whose blossoming filled the summer air with a drowsy content. In the front piazza of this house stood, one summer morning, a very beautiful woman, calm-browed, with great pensive eyes and a face and form almost faultily faultless. Her dress tvas of some thin texture, of a pale vio- fet color, and the great crimson flowers of a tropical vine, which trailed over and under and round eyery inch of, support the piazza could yield, threw {ts rosy shadow over her. Beautiful, exceedingly, she was, yet passionate and proud, and ufterly ig- norant of “the blessings of constraint; for her will had always been to all within her home the yea and nay from which there was no appeal. All who knew her gave the homage of implicit obedience—all save one; and for this rebellious subject she now waited and watched. Soon she saw him coming: his power- ful black horse devouring the distance with eager steps until they stood un- der the locust trees, white with droop- ing sweetness, that shadowed the gates of the main avenue. Here John Here- ford stopped and tied his horse in their shadow, and then looked lovingly, long- ingly towards the woman watching him from under the green piazza. He was worth the watching, this John Hereford; handsome enough to match even Ruby Rae's beauty; a wise young gentleman, in whose character there was no seam. They had loved each other long, but: ‘the -course of’ their love had not run ‘smooth. First, Ruby’s father died, then the war interfered, and now pov- erty lay like a cold, dark shadow be- tween them. Both had been rich, and both were now poor, and between that had and now lay miseries and sorrows and disappointments enough to have tamed less confident spirits. For some time it had been hard for either to realize the change that had fallen.on their lives. John had come’ back from the camp with a firm trust in his own particular section, and its ability somehow to find a living for him. Ruby had never believed it pos- sible that any of her requests would be denied by the tradesmen of the little town which had for so many years seemed on’y to exist in order to serve the Rae plantation. Both were de- ceived, and it did not take John long to decide on his future course. He determined to go bravely to work at whatever he could find to do, and nothing better offering, he accepted the position of overseer to the stranger who had bought I father's estate. Ruby was outr: indignant, not to be either reasoned with or entreated. She declared their engagement broken, #nd Passionately threw at his feet the opal ring John had given her. This was a full year ago, and since then they had not spoken. John had toiled hard in the fields and over the books of the old family estate, and Ruby shut herself up with her pride and the two old negro women who re- mained faithful to her. Both had suf- fered. There were anxious lines on John’s face, and Ruby's eyes told a tale of sacrifice. But John's suffering had brought its reward; his conscientious. careful toil had won the respect of his employer, and he had offered him a fine position which he commanded in New York. The salary was large enough, John thought, to marry on: hence he had written to Ruby to ask her for this interview. John foresaw that it was not destined to be a happy one when she did not come walking down the avenue to meet him, as had been her custom in happier days. He could not tell how much this sacrifice to her pride cost her, and so he said. rather bitterly, as he held out his hand: “A cold grecting, Ruby.” “Such as you have stinted me to, John. It is not my fault that I cannot 3 dresses, Mammy Bawn and Aunt Sally raise me chickens and vegetables, and this poor roof still shelters me. I prefer poverty and respectability.” “Say pride, Ruby—a poor, miserable pride, which offers on its cruel altar not only your youth and beauty, but also the happiness of one who has loved you ever since he can remember. We have hardly borne this year's sep- aration, broken as it has been with an occasional sight of each other. I am going away to-morrow. If we meet no more, how are you going to comfort your heart for my loss, Ruby?” “Do you flatter yourself, John, that you are really necessary to its com- fort? “Yes, I do, Ruby; else you were the falsest as well as the most foolish of women. How often have you told me so? I thought you spoke the truth. Oh, Ruby darling, don’t waste both our lives for a sentiment that has no mean- ing in the new order of things with which we must grapple.” And her keen, stinging answers, SO utterly foolish and futile, her cruel, doubtful little speeches, brought at length on her what she richly deserved —plain, unequivocal truths. For once she quailed before the impassioned, loving reprover who held her two Lands, and looked into her face with those open, clear gray eyes. They parted without hope and with- out promise. John went to his new life haunted by that last miserable look which Ruby could not quite suppress; and she shut close the doors of her house and heart, and thought she had left her love lying dead outside. In the battle of life John soon found that the first step toward commanding one’s destiny is to command one's spirit; so he bravely let the dead past bury its dead, and bent all his great natural yowers to his new duties. Ruby and he scemed to be as effec- tually sundered as if death and not pride, had “put them apart.” Thus four years pzssed away, each one drifting them further apart. For John's friends had gradually followed his example, and scattered themselves far and wide from the little Southern village which could no longer give them a subsistence; while Ruby, more and more offended at a society which was rapilly assimilating itself to the new order of things, retired altogether from it. In 1870 she stood where she had done in 1860, a relic of a class which will soon be a tradition. Most of her friends had accepted cheerfully (or otherwise) the situation. Some were teaching, some “taking boarders,” and a few had married men, who, ac- cording to Ruby's code, “were not gen- tlemen.” She, with a courage and firmness which ought to have had a better ob- ject, said to all manner of happiness, “I can do without thee,” and lived in perfect isolation and seclusion. And if people are determined to be recluses, the world has not time to. convert them. Ruby's acquaintances wondered, expostulated, and then forgot her. A joyless life is worse to bear than one of e grief, and Ruby often found, herself pitying her own heart. In the lonely, dilapidated splendor of her house, she sat mostly silent.” There was no bliss coming for her to run and greet, and a still, passionless look settled over the face once so radiantly beautiful. Then, one hot summer's night, -her summons into the very thickest of life's conflict came. There was a sudden light, which gathered and spread, and filled the air with heat and smoke; and Ruby knew the village was on fire. Brighter every minute grew the flames, and through that clear at- mosphere, though two miles distant, she could hear the cries and shouts of those fighting the fearful foe. Her heart kindled; it burned within her. Her cheeks flushed; her eyes filled. Before she could think or rea- son, she had saddled her mare, and was nearing the burning village. In ‘ment, with a that she had long been a tenant at the will and generosity of her father’s own friend. Great emergencies are prompt and rapid counselors. She determined to leave as soon as possible for New York, and earn there her own living. If any hopes connected with John Hereford influenced this decision, she fever acknowledged them, even to her own heart. Tas I should like to pass-over the next eight months of Ruby’s iife, and indeed I shall not go into it in detail. Imagine a woman so proud and so ‘lonely, so inexperienced and so poor, flung all’ at once upon her own resources! Day after day, week after week, saw the same dispiriting search after employ- constantly depleting purse and wardrobe. Poor Ruby was almost ready to give up in despair, when she obtained a situation as teacher of music in a third-rate school. Hard enough was the eight hours labor, miserable the pittance she was to receive in return, and in the mean- time her finances did not always allow her to indulge in two meals a day. This abstinence, with the confine- ment and exhaustive labor, soon told very distressingly both on her feelings and appearance. She suffered so much that she began to be afraid of her own pale, thin face, and the hunted look in her eyes; and she often found her- self wondering if she should die whether John would find her out and bury her ‘decently. But when it is dark enough the stars shine out; and one miserably cold, dreary night, as she was feebly making her way up Broadway, almost fainting from exhaustion, some one put his hand her shoulder, and looking into her eyes, said, with voice trembling with love and pity: “Oh, Ruby! Ruby darling!” She knew at once that it was John, but she was too faint and feeble to do more than smile sadly and put her hands in his. He called a carriage, and lifting her tenderly in, drove to a restaurant. Then he gave her food, and she was far too hungry and too humble now to d&o anything but accept them gladly. In the communing that followed this re- union, no stranger can intermeddle. John urged a speedy marriage, and Ruby gratefully accepted the love and protection that she had once so scorn- fully rejected. Poverty is a great teacher, though it does take marvelously high wages. It humbles the proud, and adds fresh grace unto the humble. It teaches the right names and the value of men and things, and by it “God reaches us good things with our own hands.” It had proved a veiled ange’ to Ruby Rae, and only humbled that it might exalt her. For when she saw the beau- tiful home which John’s industry and frugality had provided for her, she acknowledged with bitter regret how shamefully she had circumscribed the grand old name of gentleman; while her own experience among the strug- ¢ling, intelligent poor had taught her that no man or woman, however in- digent, and no honest calling, however humble, is “common or unclean.”— Waverley Magazine. Two Yale Professors. Professor Phelps used to tell with glee of the way he achieved a reputa- tion for knowing a thing he hated. He took a walk with Professor Newton, who lived in a world of mathematics, and started off at once to discuss an abstruse problem. Mr. Phelps’ mind could not follow, ‘and wandered to other things. At last he was called back when the professor wound up with “which you see gives us. X.” “Does it?’ asked Mr. Phelps, politely. “Why, doesn’t it?” exclaimed the pro- fessor, excitedly, alarmed at the pos- gibility of a flaw in his calcuiations. Quickly his mind ran back and detect- ed a mistake. “You are richt, Mr, Phelps. You are right!” shouted the professor. “It doesn’t give us X; it gives us Y.” And from that time Pro- fessor Phelps was looked upen as a mathamatical prodigy, the first man who ever tripped the professor.— Christian Register. ; . Amusing Himeelf." “The close student of hisiery,”. he was saying, ‘“‘cannot give entire cred- ence to Daniel Webster's intimation that the panic of 1837 was caused by President Jackson's bungling interier- ence with the currency; nor, on the other hand, is one prepared to yield unqualified assent to the assertions of the extreme protectionists that it was the result of the gradual reduction of duties following the compromise act of 1833. The truth probably lies be- tween these two extremes. It is to be borne in mind, moreover, that there had been an area of wild speculation, and when the specie circular was—" er of the little Boston boy, ‘you are becoming too boisterous in your recre- ations.”’—Chicago Tribune. The Value of Exercise. The brain that never calls upon itself among thé wailing, excited, frightened crowd she rode, their very weakness developing all the strength of her real womanhood. In half an hour she had got wagons for the children, and sent t n to the shelter of meet you as an equal.” “I have left the old Hereford plac forever, Rul hat ion is n¢ worth discussing 1 ry fine uation, with an been offered 1 to ask you to s “Eat the bread you, John. My I village buys me them and the womnie 1 2) nature. She was ct of hel 1 of wise ‘h eventu y to the hrok proxke sae k with the sm 1 and prudent resulted | | for work must become dull and stupid, | and it is the same way with the mus- | cles of the body. They are filled with | blood vessels that s be up and doing. The blood h everal purposes, | and one is to ct away the waste own large, en home. That|fi of the bod are a yv atmosphere, by so ubtle spir-| s¢ is a dis- chemistry, evolved the latent | ti blood becon and sluggish youthful » their 1 th ind body does not s erow dull, li | : | k “Ralpherson,” interrupted the moth- | i i | { Fashion in Handwriting. There is a fashion in handwriting just as there is a fashion in clothes; but, fortunately, the modes of calig- raphy change with less weathercock like facility than those of chiffons do. There is also a vast amount of char- acter revelation in handwriting; so perhaps even if it became the vogue to alter the handwriting as often as the hat, women would be unable to con- form to the rule, says Home Chat. But to return to the question of style, or fashion. The woman who writes what is called the Italian hand has almost died away with the old days in which the penny post Had no existence and letter writing was a real art. We scribble now, whereas when twenty-hours went further than they do now women produced won- ders in the art of caligraphy. The gentle nurtured and carefully educated girl of the very earliest days wrote a sloping hand, formed her let- ters clearly and carefully, made very long tops and tails to those letters that require them, and took a pride in forming her up strokes with delicate fineness, falling off again to a fine, light finish. She was very particular about the} formation of her capital letters, using many a quaintly wonderful flourish; and she endeavored, as best she might on her closely lined pages, to preserve an even line, employing sometimes ruled note paper, or. using beneath her paper a sheet of ruled paper, the lines of which gleamed through the top sheet and proved a guidance to her pen. Many men of culture and refinement also adopted the Italian style of hand- writing. Those who have seen the signature of that great surgeon, Sir James Paget, will recollect the sloping character of the caligraph, the light and dark up and down strokes and the length of the looped letters. But in Sir James Paget's case, as in that of many other men of his marvellous in- tellectual power and unobstrusive modesty, flourishes of a pronounced type were absent. Miss Braddon's handwriting tends toward the Italian style with pointed letters, well defined tails, and a dis- tinct difference between the up and down strokes. It used to be cruelly said of women who wrote an ill-formed, undecipher- able hand, that they were unable to spell; and of a truth in many cases this was undoubtedly so. In ancient days, of course, neither men nor wom- en could be blamed for bad spelling. Until the standard of orthography was settled, how was it possible for any- body to spell correctly? Still, there is no doubt that until girls were as carefully educated as their brothers, numbers of them did adopt a form of handwriting that left the spelling of their words most questionable as re- garded accuracy. ' A Woman’s Appearance. There was a time when a woman going to look for a situation put on her oldest or poorest clothes either to ex- cite sympathy or to demonstrate that ghe was very hard up indeed. But all that has changed, and the woman who goes in search of work presents ss good an appearance as possible, appreciating that it multiplies the ad- verse odds to appear out at elbows and on the verge of poverty, says the New York Sun. There are women who contend that to be well dressed is only within range of a few. But there are others who have given the question consid- erable care, and they assert that it is within the power of all, provided the matter is approached from the stand- point of common sense. Failure is ‘due not to want of money, but to want of appreciation of merit or de- it and to a certain slavish order of mind whieh leads to a blind fol- lowing of fashion, without seriously considering whether it is the fashion for one's self or not. Here of course lies the differ- ence between the dressmaker and the artist in dress. The purses of many me ! are not long enough for the demands ! of the latter, and therefore it is more incumbent on the majority to study seriously the requirements of their own physiques, so that they may sup- ply to the dressmaker the want which is so costly in the hands of the artist, namely, the knowledge of certain in- riolable lines on which their clothing must be built, and to which the reign- ing fashion must inevitably give way. The pity of it all is that woman in the pursuit of the beautiful in dress not always study it from the and object of it all—to 's personality in its most at : to the sex, for the es from does end D1 but at- few. common + to Ul \eir attractions, ti the snares of The selftespecting woman is well groomed, well dressed, present ing in herself an object of respect. The critic judges one by the out ward adornment rather than the in- life. ner virtues of one's soul, and pos sibly does not go far wrong in taking the former as an index of the latter. Slovenliness «<f the body is very nearly allied to slovenliness of mind, — metas Hour Glasses For Children. _A clever mother recently gave hour glasses to her three children. They were timed to run out the end of an hour, half hour, and fifteen minutes, respectively. The little girl who be- fore had dawdled through her piano practice, after watching the sands of time run out so visibly in her hour glass at once brought a new zest to her practice. The boys would there- after time themselves on their even- ing “chores,” and hurry back to see if they had been beaten by the hour glass, says the Pittsburg Leader. It was a very good way of teaching them the value of time. If the ex- periment is tried, however, mothers must be careful not to allow their children to carry it to excess at first and so grow weary of it as of a worn- out toy. ITealth Means Beauty. If you wish to be beautiful there are four rules you must follow. Here they are: Have plenty of exercise and fresh air, good food, sunshine and lots of sleep. This last is most necessary. A hot bath and a few hours’ sleep wiil do wonders to renew a youthful appearance. Never eat or work if you are over tired. The digestive organs will surely refuse to do their task properly, and you will suffer the reaction. It is always best to obey nature's laws just as strictly in regard to our complexion, as well as our lives. Use tepid water to wash in, and if it is hard a little borax will soften it, as hard water is very bad for the skin.— New York American. Ingrowing Nails. Despite the protests of. many girle who are not yet converted, ingrowing toenails are invariably produced by pressure or a blow, says the Min: neapolis Tribune. A shoe too narrow across the toe or tread of the foot or insufficiently long for ease and comfort, though large enough else where, either cramps or distorts the fore parts of the foot and toes or arrests the nails in their proper growth forward, forcing them back into the sensitive flesh af their roots and sides and causing them to grow in width and thickness only. The results of tight shoes are not always immediate, but they are sure and very painful. PASAIONS Comparing the late winter gowns with the few spring models on view, one sees little change in the general outline, or silhouette, as an artist would call it. A charming dressing jacket of pure white crepe and Irish lace is made like a shawl. The'sleeves are formed by the short points of the shawl, and a ribbon gathers in the fulness at the waist. Pe This Season's velveteens have proven as durable and as satisfactory in all ways as the manufacturers promised, and it is to be hoped that fashion will allow them another sea- son's vogue. There is a craze for gowns waere the waist is a tiny bolero, pelerine, or sailor collar of the skirt material over a blouse of thin material or lace. It is a pretty, graceful fashion and fur- nishes a hint for making over gowns. The cotton and silk mixtures con- tinue to come in. Among them fiecked tissue de soie, silk gauzes, sat- in lisse, and pointille cotton are fa- miliar in name, but are much more beautiful this year than before. he military jacket has taken re- markably well. Only fine broadcloth or the best quality of zibeline enters into its construction. There is a lav- ish use of braid in frogs, epaulets, and bindings. This short style is adapted only to slender, youthful fig- ures, but on these it looks unusually smart, Egg Farci. Cut hard boiled eggs in halves cross- wise. Remove the yolks and put the whites aside in pairs. Mash the yolks through a seive; add an equal quantity of cold cocsed chicken or veal (chopped fine); add a little melted butter; season to taste; add a little lemon juice, ‘mustard and ' cayenne pepper. Fill the whites with the mix- ture and put them together. : Potato Gems, To one cupful of warm mashed po- tatoes add one teaspoonful of butter, one teaspoonful of salt; beat the yolks of two eggs; add to them one cupful of milk; pour this upon one and one- half cupfuls of sifted flour and the mashed potato; add the beaten whites of the eggs, two and one-half level teaspoonfuls of baking powder; fill buttered gem pans two-thirds full and bake in a quick oven twenty minutes. Rice Wafiles, To one cupful of boiled rice add one cupful of fiour; beat one egg, add to it half a cupful of milk; pour this over the rice and flour and beat well; add one level tablespoonful of butter, melted, one level teaspoonful of baking powder and half a teaspoon- ful of salt; beat well and bake on a hot greased waffle iron. Sour milk may be used instead of sweet milk; in that case omit baking powder and use one level teaspoonful of baking soda. Baked Potatoes. Pare and cut “our or five potatoes into thin slices, first dividing the pota- to lengthwise if large. Put the slices in a deep baking dish and over each layer sprinkle salt, pepper and flour and dot with bits of butter. When al} are used rour on miuk enough to cov- er the potatoes. Let them bake slow- ly, and twice during tue process stir the brown skin ina. forms on top al} through the potato. This is a conven- ient way when.one has time for the long cocking; two aours will not harm them, and they need no attention at serving time. Fruit Filling For Sandwiches, Have ready the raisins seeded, the dates washed, dried and stoned, and some macaroons rolled fine. Chop the raisins and dates, ¢:d add if you like some of the can ied apricots and cher- ries, also chopped fine. Allow about equal parts ci each. “When all chopped and mixed, moisten it with orange juice and the syrup from canned cher- ries, using about one-fourth cup for two cups of the fruit mixture. Re- move the crust from thin slices of bread and cut into hearts, diamonds or other fancy shapes; spread quite thick with butter and then fill with the fruit mixture and put together. A little fiour sifted over prevent the pieces sticking together while being chopped. suet wiil Mix plaster of paris with vinegar in- stead of water and you will find it ex- cellent to stop the cracks in the wall. To clean raisins roll in flour and then pick off all large stalks. If currants are washed they must be dried before added to cales. To keep cheese from getting mouldy wrap it in a cloth that has been dipped in vinega" -nd wrung out al- most dry. Keep in a coo. place. When making pillows, if you wax the tick the feathers will not work through. 'To' do this rub a very hot fron with beeswax and plac» ic on the tick. Repeat till the whole thing has been covered. Do not use bath brick or other grit- ty substance for cleaning taps, for it will get ino the joints and cause need- less wear and experse. A good polish- ing with oil alone will have excellent effect and can do no damage. Lovers of cats should not forget to provide their pets with a little green food in winter. Lettuce leaves chopped in their food, or even celery tops, are relished by cats. It is a good plan also to keep a lot of grass or oats growing in the house for them to nib- ble at. Because of the unporous quality of brown paper it is a good nonconductor of heat and cold, and in the absence of woolen - biankets it serves the same purpose. Outing flannel or gingham can be lined with one or two layers and an excelleht quilt made that wilt wear well and be a warm, comforta- ble covering, Profits of a Sermon. Everything is to be tucked, we are informed, but the tucks are by no means to be the straight around or even up and down variety. Tucks in | all sorts of circular and ecrescent- haped designs are presag Soft it among the | | Of A silks and pongees yield 1 sort of needlework it is all ih hand-doue, Queen Alexandre 1 has just forwarded ¥ i ha y | the Gordon Boys’ Home and the B iis l $100, repre nn ived during the equally between the two charities, 4 - Roy, - Tea sho out. spe whi fro: the Tryin WoOl
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers