M E N, Factory whistles blow Dawn From reverberant throats. Hollow and mournfully drawn Are the answering notes Chorused from harbor and shore Through the fog wreaths, and then Cityward ceaselessly pour Inundations of Men. East from the Jerseys and West From the sea-girded plains, South from the hills 1s the quest Of the sinuous trains; Thronged is each wave-spanning are, And again and again Shuttle the ferry craft, dark With their burthens of Mer. Men! Men! Men! Heavy-browed. eager-eyed, Tremulous, resolute Men. — Arthur Guiterman, in Torrents and billows of life And, alas, for the spray! Highway and housetop are rife With the turbulent clay. Men! in the rush and the stir And the roar of the street. Men! in the factory’s whirr And the furnace’s heat. Men! ‘mid the forges that ring And the shuttles that ply. Men! on the girders that swing In the vault of the sky. Swift through its underground lane, Like a snake to its den, Burrows the glowering train With its burthen of Men. fen! Men! Men! Pitiful, glorious, Conquering, desperate Men. the New York Times. TTI tTE ATES 221] Harry Thurston glanced toward the dark bulk of Vesuvius, from the summit of which a few curls of smoke lazily floated upward against the blue Italian sky. Thurston, with two other young Americans of about his own age, was ‘doing’ southern Italy, walking whenever it was pos- sible, and employing guides only when it was absolutely necessary to do so. | The three pedestrians were now seated on the veranda of the Quisisana, at Castellammare, having just finished breakfast. “The path is plain enough on the | map,’ continued Harry. “and I, for one, | don't care to have a ‘Pietro’ or ‘Jaco- po’ tagging after me all the way up.” “It looks-like the beginning of a clear day,” said Bob Crothers, reflectively. “I don't really see how we could lose our way.” | DON'T see why we need guides.” was Dick who usually got the party in- to scrapes, and Crothers who extricat- ed it. Harry, in either case, simply helped form a majority. Two hours later the trio started out from “La Maison Blanche,” a small inn at the foot of the mountain, and attacked the foothills of Vesuvius it- self. The sun was shining brightly, the air was clear and sweet. but the district across which the path lay was so drearily desolate that by de- grees the gay talk and laughter of the boys languished. They had climbed the Mount Wash- ington bridle-path the )ear before, but how different were their surroundings now! In place of balsam firs, dancing brooks, mossy slopes bright with crim- gon berries and starry flowers, they looked out over an unbroken stretch of volcanic rock, dead lava and black dust. “It’s like a nightmare!” exclaimed Harry, breaking a long silence, during which they had been plodding onward and upward. “I'd give something for a drink of New Hampshire spring wa- ter!” “] suppose,” observed Bob, “the moon looks something like this when you get there. Just a burned-out, cooled-off, dried-up volcano.” “Well? said Dick, “let's get on. There's a sort of restaurant up there, at the end of this path, where we can rest before taking in the final cone and the crater.” Y It was a long, hard, hot pull for them, experienced walkers though they were, and they were glad enough for the brief halt for refreshments at the foot of the funicular railway—the very one which inspired the popular Neapolitan song, “Funiculi, funicula.” And now arose a discussion as to the method of completing the ascent. Dick was for continuing on foot, following the tr.cks of the regular porters up through the knee-deep ashy dust which covers the steep sides of the cone. Crothers, howcver, advocated taking the car. “It's of no use to tire ourselves all out,” he said, “wading through that stuff up a slope like the roof of a house. It's all right coming down, but if you fellows ever tried to climb a bill with two feet of snow on it, you know how it feels. And it's hot, 100.” Harry sided with Bob. and tie three were soon cated comfortably in the little car, gliding upward along the rails of the tunicuiar. Near the upper terminus of the rail- way there was a cabin, where a num- ber of zuides were waiting to conduct tourists to the edge of the crater. They pounccd upon the boys eagerly. “No, ro!” zaid Hairy in English, shak- ing off .ne of his tormerntors. ‘No guide for us! We go alone—see?”’ One :i—ord alcne was intelligible ta, the Italian, the last, which Le under- good as ‘si’ (yes), and arairs grew still more complicated. At last Bob, who knew a little Italian, said firmly: “Andate pei fatti vosiri” (Go about your business); adding, “Faremo a modo nostro’ (We shall do as we please), wad pushirg through the screaming circle, he led tke way up the path. The zuides sullienly fell back and gave Up ‘ae contest, muttering ex- pletives in the Neapolitan patois, which fortunately the Americans could rot understand. Bob Crothers told me long after- wards that he had not taken a dozen steps when he felt a sudden misgiv- ing, and halted irresolutely. After all, would it not be better to take an ex- perienced guide? If he Lad only obeyed his premonition of danger! but Dick bounded up ahead, shouting, * «Come on, fellows! We've got clear of them at last, and we're going to have the time of our lives!” So the lads kept on, up the steep ascent, until they stood on the small, jrregular plateau forming tbe summit of Vesuvius, chk RFRRE FERRE k kk RRR kk Rk kkk kkk ky an FEEERERE RLF EERRE EERE RRR ERR RRR RRR THE SHADOW CE. DEATH. FEkrkRRRER ERR kRRRk FEE hhh kkk RRR FREER dock dk sok kk kkk kkk kook RRR kkk kk kk AER ERRRRERREERRRRS -* BY WILLIS BOYD ALLEN. FEEFFERERRREREREFRFRE 3 so kok kok ok » »* * * » » * * * * a0 of of ok feof ke ok ok ok KOK Ok ok J The view was marvelous. Far away lay the city of Naples. a tawny crescent bathed in sunshine; vineyards and gardens stretched away from the foot of the mountain, dotted with villas and little hamlets; and to the west lay the wonderful Mediterranean, a perfect turquoise in color, with shadings of deeper blue where the breeze touched the shimmering surface. In the dis- tance slept the fair island of Capri. But the boys were more interested in their immediate surroundings than in the dreamy Italian landscape far | below and beyond them. Just in front of them yawned the awful crater, its sides streaked with sulphur and dimmed by ascending curls of steam. The crust of slag and ash on which they stood was warm to their feet, and here and there were crevices coated with bright yellow sul- { phur and giving forth hot fumes of “Come on!’ urged Dick White. It| nauseating gas. “Whew!” exclaimed Harry, with a disgusted face. “I can't stand this long! Let's—" He was interrupted by a hollow roar from the volcanic depths, like the dis- charge of a ship's broadside. A shower of red hot stones flew upward, to fall back again into the crater, while a cloud of black smoke drifted away against the blue sky. The boys had started back, and were a good deal shaken. : ] “Let's hurry round the thing, and then go down,” said Dick. “I never thought of its being so awful, did you?’ They cautiously circled the great pit, carefully avoiding the steaming cracks in their path, and then paused for a last look. “Wouldn't it be horrible to tumble in!” shuddered Dick, as they crept a little nearer the edge and peered down into the black, steaming depths. “They say an Englishman went down a few years ago,” said Bob. “He got too near and—Dick! Dick! Come back!” he screamed, springing backward, with Harry beside him. Dick was a little in advance of the others. As Crothers spoke, a crack appeared in the slag, and a moment later, just as Dick started to his feet, a section of the edge crumbled down- ward, carrying the boy with it. His two companions gazed at each other with blanched faces. 1t was too awful to be believed. A moment ago there were three of them, talking merrily enough; now—now the:e were but two! “What—what shall we do?’ gasped the trembling Harry. “O Bob, he’s gone, he’s gone!” At that instant a faint voice was heard, as if from somewkere far away. “Harry! Harry! Bob?’ The two boys dropped flat on the earth and wriggled to the edge of the crater. There, some twenty feet be- low them, they saw their comrade. He had fallen on his back, and glided helplessly downward with the mass of loose ash until his feet touched a layer of the underlying I arcened lava, on the very brink of the slieer precipice which formed the real crater. Digging his heels ir, he had suec- ceeded in arresting bis progress, and lay there with upturned face, knees slightly bent—le dared not straighten out his legs—and outstretched hands clutching the slag or each side. The loose osh almost covered his hair, nis hands and his feet. “Hold on tight, Dick!’ screamed Harry, hardly knowing what he said. “We'll get you out. Hold on for your life!” Dick heard the voice of his friend calling to him. although he could see nothing but the opposite wall of the crater, the ascending steam, and a piece of blue sky above. He closed his eyes as he hung there within six inclies of a horrible death, and nerved himself to wait. After a pause the voice came again: “Bob has gone for help. I must keep back from the edge, for fear it will crumble again. Hold on with all your might, old fellow. It will only be a few minutes!” The air was filled with sickening fumes of sulphur, and the hot sun beat down pitilessly on Diek’s white, upturned face. To keep his senses, he tried to imagine himself on the green banks of a certain trout-brcok in Maine; then he repeated, withoat moy- ing his lips, the multiplication table; after that the twenty-third Psalm, which he had learned as a child. Just as he reached “the valley of the shadow of death,” he Leard an in- creased rumbling in the volcano, far below him. A new terror beset him. The crater was about to belch forth a volley of stones again. Would the concussion shake him from his posi- tion? #]—-1—will f-fear no evil!” stam- mered poor Dick, in a whisper. Then the crash came, and the column { heels rested did not give way. of black smoke rolled upward. He was indeed in the “shadow of death!” The stones rattled sharply against the rocks round him, and fragments of slag slid past, disappearing in the abyss. Still the projection against which his Half- suffocated with nauseous gases, his limbs cramped and aching, he grimiy held on. . Meanwhile Bob Crothers tore down the path to the hut, where he found the guides half asleep. When the white-faced lad came rush- ing among them, they listened at first sulkily enough; but as soon as they understood the real nature of the catas. trophe they sprang to their feet, and snatching a coil of rope from a hook, hurried up the cone, headed by Bob. “Dick, my dear old fellow!” It was Bob’s voice, and it came just in time to rouse the boy from the stupor to which he was fast succumbing. “Yes!” replied Dick, feebly. “We're going to throw you a rope with a running noose at the end When I give the word, you stick yout arm through the noose, quick, and gral the rope with beth hands!” “I—I don’t know whether I can hold on!” trembled Dick. “Yes, you can!” replied Bob, fiercely. “You’ve got to! Here comes the rope!” Two sturdy guides had stretched themselves flat on the ground at the their comrades planted themselves firmly, with the rope twisted round their bodies, a few feet farther back. Dick felt the loose particles of ash sliding past his face as the rope slid down slowly toward him. The dusi got into his eyes, but he could not rub them. At last the noose glided over his head and rested on his chest. Af the same moment he heard the pre: monitory rumbie of the volcano fore telling another discharge. “Now!” screamed Bob. Dick drew a long breath and caught the rope, thrusting an arm through the noose. The quick movement and in voluntary bracing of his feet dislodged the slight projection which had arrest- ed his fall, and he began to slide down- ward. It was a moment of terrible sus. pense. Would the rope hold? Dick could not help himself a particle, if indeed he was still conscious. But his grip was firm, and the noose, which had slipped up to his armpit, clutched him tightly. Slowly the silent form was drawn up the slope, farther and farther, until his rescuers, cautiously reaching over the edge, caught his wrists, and drew the half-dead lad to safety. It was a triumphal procession that wound down the path to the hut, carry. ing Dick, who feebly protested that he could walk, but was not allowed to set foot on the ground. The boys were pretty silent, but the guides chatted volubly, laughed, shouted and threw up their hats, now and then turning to shake their fists at the volcano. All ill-feeling was forgotten. “What did vou think of, old fellow, as you were lying there waiting for us?’ asked Harry that evening, when the three were once more on the moon- lit piazza of the Castellammare hotel. He threw his arm over the other’s shoulder as he spoke. It was good t0 feel that his friend was alive and well. “Think?” said Dick, slowly. “I don’t know. I've forgotten. About mother, I guess, and—well,” he shuddered. a little, “that place, you know, about the ‘shadow of death. I tell you, fellows, I've been in it!”—Youth’s Companion. Superstitions in Maryland. Planting by the moon and the signs of the zodiac, avoiding Friday and the thirteenth day of the month, breaking up a drought by killing a snake and hanging it over a fence, taking care not to present a friend with anything sharp—how old are these beliefs, and where first did they arise? The origin of some is not clear; the number thir teen is a reminder of the Last Supper, edge of the crater; half a dozen of ! and so also is the spilling of salt fate- ful, because it was Judas who spilled the salt, according to tradition, at that holy meal. Most of the signs and omens, however, seem to have no basis of tradition for their origin, or, if they ever had any, it has been lost. The subject has been humorously and curi- ously entered into by “A Country Doc: tor’ in “Popular Superstitions in Mary: land,” in which many of these beliefs are mentioned which seem to belong exciusively to this State. The colored folk are among believers in good and bad signs, and the doctor mentions a number of curious omens. These su perstitions, he explains, are almost in- nate with us; they are among our ear liest and most ineffaceable impres sions, and, practical and philosophic as we may become, they cling, from habit and childhood’s influence, almost to the last.—Baltimore News. Bees Obey Orders. In a communication to the Academy of Science the celebrated naturalist, M. Bonnier, makes some interesting observations on the habits of bees. In the afterncon when they are collecting water from the leaves of aquatic plants, he says, they vill not touch honey offered to them on these leaves, or on floats of various colors. But if honey is offered to them in the morn- ing in a similar way, it is carried off. He explains this as arising from the sirictness with which they obey orders. If they are sent out for water they will not stay to gather hone’. An Ancient Thimble. Among the treasures of the Haps- bt in the Hofburg at Vienna is a clumsy thimble, engraved “A. Vv. W,, 1684.” It is said to be the parent thim- ble of the world, and it was fashioned of a silver coin by some ingenious Dutchman, who presented it to his lady love. GCHINGS WORTH, KNOWING A ata ES ed 3 Germany is able to feed about nine- tenths of her nearly sixty million in- habitants on the products of her own soil. One test for distinguishing diamonds from glass and page is to touch them with the tongue. Rae diamond feels much the colder. 2s A new theatre, says t Neue Ham- burger Zeitung, is to be opened in Ber- lin next year, in which ail parts will be played by mechanical dolls of life size. Probably the simplest court livery in the world is that worn in the royal palace of Korea. The Emperor's ser- vants are all dressed in garments and headgear of red calico. A New England newspaper of 1727 announced that “a considerable town in this province has been so awakened by the awful providence in the earth- quake that the women have generally laid aside their hoop petticoats.” A Chinese murderer before being hanged in Batavia asked to be supplieC with a ticket to Singapor2, so ‘that he could have it on his person after death. His request was granted and be died happy. A British newspaper publishes this advertisement: ‘Widower, living re- tired, without encumbrance, would like to correspond with lady, about 40, with small means, with one l:g praferred, with a view to an eca:ly marriage.” After keen competition the Library of Congress secured a copy of Anna Bradstreet’s poems, ‘The Tenth Muse Lately Sprung Up in America,” Lon- don, 1650, at the auction sale of Wil- liam S. Appleion’s library, Boston. The bidding ran up to $191. Pupils in the English national schools are being taught the American custom of saluting the flag. But they do so on national anniiersaries only. April 23, St. George's Day, the pupils in one of the schools sang patriotic songs while fifty of their fellow pu- pils accompanied on the violin. The evidence before the British Army Stores Commissioners, as to graft during the Boer war, shows that there was only one regiment the con- tractors were unable to cheat. That proud distinction belongs to the Sev- enth Hussars. They weighed every- thing and checked the quality of every- thing supplied them. The Spaniard generally is temper- ate, and has few wants, which are easily satisficl. He requires a daily nap or siesta, is rather lazy, loves mu- sic and dancing and th2 bull fight, and is not averse to intrigue and the use of weapons. A native dignity that never forsakes them, even in dire pov- erty and squalor, is one of the most striking characteristics of the race. ROOF A POTATO PATCH. Montana Man Grows Tubere in Sawdust Soil. A half-bushel of sawdust, a dash of chemical solution and fifteen potatoes carefully enveloped with the sawdust will enable the average householder to grow a bushel of tubers on his housetop or in his cellar within sixty days. This process, says the Chicago Record-Herald, has been discovered and elaborated by W. D. Darst, of Great Falls, Mont. Moreover, the potato grower will have no potato bugs to contend with, he will have no turn- ing over of the soil at certain intervals, and there will be no contest with grub- worms. The product of Mr. Darst’s process is termed the “vineless potato,” from the fact that, grown under these apparent- ly unnatural conditions, there is no surface vegetation. Because of this each potato buried in the sawdust is enabled to produce at least twelve nor- mal-sized tubers. Operating on the theory that the pres- ence of surface vegetation was only a method of securing nourishment and in reality sapped the vitality of the tuber, Mr. Darst experimented more than six years and found he could overcome this seemingly natural course on the part of the plant by supplying it arti- ficially with its needs. By employing sawdust, peat, straw or any other earth product that would permit of the circulation of air, mois- ture and heat and the application of solutions of various salts, he discovered that a single potato would multiply itself by attaching to itself from twelve to sixteen other potatoes of approxi- mately the same dimensions without throwing off any of its energy above ground. Packed in loosely arranged bins per- mitting the free access of air and ar- ranged in rows six inches above each other, with an allowance of one cubic foot of sawdust to the seediing, Mr. Darst has demonstrated the rapidity of growth and the proportions tbat the potatoes may attain by showing that within sixty days fifteen potatoes will produce a bushel. / In the character of his experiments and the success that has attended them Mr. Darst has the indorsement of Luther Burbank, the eminent horticulturist and botanist. An Uncle of Royalties. King Edward VIL is the uncle of the Emperor of Germany, will soon be the uncle of a Queen of Spain, is already the uncle of the Crown Prince of Rou- mania, the Crown Princess of Greece and the Crown Princess of Sweden, To call a man a “Dreyfus” in France renders the user of the term liable to a fine of 500 francs ($100) for libel and is the father of the Queen of Nor- way. Beauty Doctors Cure-All Olive oil is the beauty doctor’s cuaie- all for poor complexions. He advises its use in every possible food, plenty of green salads reeking with it and then doses of it by the tablespoonful. Teach Children to Think. “Do not try to force your children’s beliefs. Teach them to think for them- selves, and when they come to you, with their theories, agree with the good that is in them. If there is any- thing that to you seems wrong, explain it away if you can reasonably, if not, fet it alone. Children can no more think exactly as their parents do and still preserve their individuality, than they can resemble them physically in every detail, and forcing.is as impossi- ble in one case as in the other.”—B. Mec. 1. Bell, in The Housekeeper. Revival of Block Work. Old-fashioned block work has been revived for some of the prettiest of the little aprons so many women don at the slightest excuse. Perhaps the apron is made without a ruffle, blocks of a uniform size put on in a simple pattern and stitched neatly. Or the saucy little ruffle which makes so attractive a thing of an apron may be made quite elaborate with blocks; or even the apron proper trimmed with blocks, the ruffle left plain, but made very full. Whichever way it is made, an apron of that sort is as quaint as a bunch of old-fashioned roses, and as dainty. Millinery in the Schools. The Chicago Board of Education has decided to establish a course of mil- linery in the free evening schools. The ‘course in hatmaking for the benefit of working girls who receive starvation wages will be put to use with the open- ing of the evening schools at the be- ginning of the fall term. Every working girl who spends her evenings in the public schoolroom is to be taught how to design, make and trim her own hats. Board officials be- lieve that in this way the working girls who receive $5 and $6 a week will be able not only to gratify their artistic tastes, but also to save the money which they now pay to milliners. The course in millinery will be made a part of the domestic science work, and will be open to all girls enrolled in the pub- lic evening high schools. Where Wornen Lead. In proportion to total weight of body, woman has a heavier brain than man, and would, it is contended, if culti- vated to the same extent as man’s, pro- duce far better results than.his. It has been repeatedly demonstrated that woman’s memory is much more retentive than man’s, and the world’s memory record was recently won by a woman, who remembered the sequence of 133,000 words. Girls are everywhere recognized to be more apt pupils in music, quicker to adapt themselves to new conditions, and better able to face trials of all kinds unfiinchingly. Women more easily detect various shades of color than men, and they are a trifle better at judging weights and measurements. They also live longer than men, which shows that they are better able to take care of themselves. Dressmakers Should Rise. Deploring the fact that dressmakers have no social position, Mme. B. F. Howard told the members of the Chi- cago Dressmakers’ Club at a meeting that the way to attain the desired end is to study music, art, literature and the drama. Having gained knowledge along these lines, Mme. Howard said, any dress- maker would find that the door of “social equality ” is open, and that she could make a better gown after having had a conversation with her “client” on the subject of “problem plays,” Greig and the books of Bernard Shaw. The speaker declared that it is the dressmakers’ own fault if they are classed with their customers’ cooks. She said a dressmaker is an artist in every sense of the word, and is en- titled to the same social distinction ac- corded to the members of any other profession of like importance to so- ciety. How tc Wash the Face. “Eureka!” said the girl with the sal- low complexion, bursting into her friend’s studio. ‘After devouring beauty talks for years, I have at last found out how to wash my face.” “Disgorge that fact at once,” laugh- ingly demanded her companion. “I and hundreds of other women with muddy skins just like mine have been waiting long and breathlessly for this precious knowledge. But, joking aside, I've noticed lately that your skin is fresher and brighter.” “Well,” continued the first girl, “the other day I quizzed my masseuse, and the dear thing, who hasn’t a bit of meanness in ber make-up, told me all she knew about the skin. Face wash- ing, she said, is quite a performance. First, I pin my hair back from my brow. and up from my neck. Then I fiil a generous sized basin with hot, not tepid, water, and with some vege- table oil soap and a camel’s hair brush 1 go to work. I dip the brush in the hot water and rub it on the soap, which is not a hard cake, but a jelly in a porcelain jar, and then I actually scrub the skin. I begin gently, using a short rotary movement, and continue about one minute and a half. In this time I have covered my entire face, throat and neck, having dipped the brush well resoaped several times in «the hot water. Next I draw another basin of water, not quite so hot, and use a Turkish face cloth, or bath glove, and wash my face free from every, trace of soap. After this comes the refreshing part of the washing. I deluge face and neck in cold water—ice water is none too cold. Hot water and soap free the skin from grease and impurities, and the cold water acts as an astringent, hardening the tissues and closing the pores.”—New York Tribune. Why Marriage is Unfashionable. Harper's Bazar contains a notable article by Charlotte Perkins Stetson Gilman on “The Passing of Matri- mony.” Mrs. Gilman believes that the present prevalence of bachelor maids and the painful frequence of divorce are both due to the same cause: that ‘the character of our women is chang- ing faster than the character of matri- mony. “The women of our time,” she says; “gare rapidly developing ‘those human powers and faculties, interests and as- pirations so long forbidden them. They need for their soul’s health full exer cise of these powers. Meanwhile; matrimony, as existent, continues td require of the woman not only the love of the wife, the function of the mother but the trade of domestic service. Th modern woman, educated, intelligent; perhaps already experienced in busi- ness, resents this demand, and refuses it. Or, being married, and perhaps un- conscious of what really ails her, she frets about her work, or in her idle- ness, and imagines that her unhappi- ness is due to her husband. Having been taught so -long that ‘love is enough,” and finding themselves still unsatisfied, they clamor for more love or different love, and frequently jump out of the frying-pan into the fire in search of it. Whereas all the time it was not love at all which they needed —they had enough for all practical purposes; what they lacked was life— human life. A human creature must do human work; and all women are no more to be contented as house-servants and housekeepers than all men would be. We need rearrangement, not in the vital principle of monogamy, which is good, but in the mechanics of the business; in ihe trades of domestic industry.” ¥ashions For Bridesmaids. Bridesmaids’ gowns for the June weddings are almost without exceptior on the picturesque order, and this sea son the bridesmaids have a wonderful opportunity to be becomingly gowned as the picturesque models have muck that is attractive about them. The taffeta silk coats and picture hats worz with gowns of lace, voile or net are not a new fashion by any means, buf then the number of different coats tc choose from is unusual; the Directoir¢ coat, the Louis XIV. and the Louis XVI. are, as always, in demand, bul there are also this year the fascinating bolero and sleeveless cape coats of plain or flowered taffeta worn witk skirts to match, or, as has been said with the net or lace skirts. \ Both the princess and the Empire styles are also in fashion, and the lat ter seems to be steadily gaining ir favor.— Harper's Bazar. FASAIONS op TAE PAY If the girdle is right the gown is pretty sure to be. It will be all right to touch your black gown up with bright-colored col lar and cuffs. Long kid gloves with lace inserts are "nice, if you care to pay $15 a pair fox your hand coverings. The newest thing in leather purses is shaped like a fan and worn on a long chain around the neck. Melted colors is the most descriptive term to apply to the new plaids, in which several soft shades run together imperceptibly. More curious than pretty are some of the new shirt waist sets, wherein each button represents 2 black cat’s head with green eyes. Flat bands are going to be used a lot on skirts, and one of the newest no« tions is a band of taffeta with a bor: der of little silk balls sewed flat td each edge. ‘ Cross stitch embroidery on linen can- vas is effective for a summer pillow cover, and because it launders well can be used freely on pjazza or in ham mock without fear of injury. } Coral jewelry is much to the fore. The dark silk shirt waist suit is enliv« ened by belt buckles and studs of coral; and often the hatpin tops are cof coral and a necklace of the same red hue. Rows of pleated ribbon are much in vogue as a hat trimming, and when combined with plumes and chiffon, thd effect is not harsh or stiff as might perhaps be the result if the ribbon were used alone. Three wide tucks across the front and around the full sleeve puffs pro- vide the only adornment for a dainty radium waist opening at the back. The front fulness is gathered at the shoul- ders, and the sleeves may be made short or with cuffs reaching to the el- bow, A BRIL THE Su) Rems entitled preache the elo T. Best righteo tree,” 1 Look the Hol think c¢ open Ss cursing cent bl despera self lik is good suuligh place © then tl hold of darkne sin anc song” i the “ww “stony of flesl fruitles an up tree, * | that is “For Chris him; t guide 1 of Hea him to shall b ers of fruit i not wi shall 1 the co “like t bring f fat and ‘Fhe vegeta noble hundre bearin and shaped shadoy cluster more howev botton of its 1 leaves, are m4 poultr; fuel a fibrous may b It fu fibre, _ Wax, and a fng thi Arabi: tants fruit. years | and “ majes the tre away | face o midst The the pa J growt tion tc plicate comm produ which and s of its somet togeth beauti the co The great dom © tard s into h a gre info t babe aroun is dis who often him t off m and b and t: when floods stand. open tian ( himse Lord,
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers