LITTLE CLOVER BLOSSOM. It sloops wllliln n casket rnre i 'Tin twined about within ribbon fnlr, And Just on strand ot ahlnluit hair ' 1 hut llttlo clover blossom. Onn solnee swoet remnlns n-Hlnim From youthful piensurn's withered beam t t wakes aiinln lord's early dream Tim! lltt Is clover blossom. A llttlo clover blossom 1 'lis natutht at nil to you, , Hut more thnn gold Or Bonn untolil I prliso Hi faded hue. It breathes of mora nnd mountain brooks, Of birds and bees and flowing nooks Tie worth a world of musty book, Thiit little olover hloesom. I prlite it moat ol nil I ins Ilxcsuso It hrlnga Id girlish gloe The boniiie lass who Rave It me Tbnt little clovor blossom. A llttlo clover bloaaom I It wields a wondrous power No words can tell Ita inured apnll v Tbnt little faded tlower. ' Samuel M. Teck, in Atlanta Journal. A MISUNDERSTANDING. HIE world is full of misunderstand ings. Now, a misunder standing is an awk ward thing the sort of thing that sometime makes shipwreck of lives that otherwise would sail smooth ly enough into the haven whore they would be. This is the story of ?. misunderstanding. The very first time he taw her he 'Vul to himself: "Now, there's the girl I should like to marry." Hue was just his sort, but it was the old story of the attraction of oppo site?, a story as old as the hills. He was big, she was small ; he was dark, she was fair ; he was quiet, she was lively ; and so on, ad infinitum. She certaiuly was a very taking little girl, and she had a pensive way of contem plating one with her great blue eyes that was altogether fascinating. Hob nclinaloigh went down before that look like a leaf before the wind. Bob was not particularly clever or amusing, or, indeed, particularly any thing but honeat. Honest he was, from the crown of his close-cropped 'head to to the soles of his military boot, and as simple-minded as a child. Hitherto he had never beon in aruest about a woman, but he was in anient now, and it was a sober, sol emn, downright earnest. Henceforth Ihere wonld be but one woman in the world for him. He would have liked to take her in 'those great strong arms of his and tell iher so, but such a course of aotion was out of the question, for she was engaged to his old chum, Phil Mars den. Now, l'hil Marsden was the sort of man that lady novelists describe as ""one of Fortune's favorites." In plain Englum, he was good-looking, - well oil, a thorough sportsman, a good hand at all games, and popular with ' men and women alike. A lucky mor tal all round, but it never occurred to Dob to envy his friend until he saw Owen Warrington. Then a new, strange feeling stirred in Dob's honest heart It was not exactly jealousy, but rather a wistful, pationt wonder why one fellow should have all the luok nd everything else, while the other .fellows were left out in the cold. Well, one summer the officers of 'Bob' regiment took it into their heads to give a ball. It was a final flare np before the th moved into fresh quarters, and they spared neither trouble nor expense to make it a sua cess. At this ball Dob was introduced to the future Mrs. Phil Marsden, and they danced a good deal together. Bob had a splendid swing, and Owen was the lightest waltzer in the room, so they went like clockwork. Owen gave Bob more waltzes than -she gave l'hil, but the latter did not seem to mind, and that, of course, was rather a queer state of things. Bob notioed it, which was remarkable, for in an ordinary way his perceptions wore j'lst as blunt as are most men's. 'I say, Miss Warringtou," he ob served, tentatively, as he and Owen went out together yet onoe again, "it's awfully good of old Phil to let you give me so many dances. Shows he isn't selfish, any way, doesn't it?" Owen shrugged her shoulders, and a chance came over her expressive face ; a change that Bob did not quite like ta see. "SolfUh I" she echoed. '"Oh! Phil Is never selfish where I am concerned, I can assure yon, Mr. Helmsleigh. He has no desire to keep me all to himself." There was no obvious answer to this speech, and so Bob said nothing. As a matter of fact, the situation was just a little beyond him. He thought of Gweu's words after' ward, though, and of the faintly bit ter tone in which they were uttered, but he did not venture to broaoh the nbjeot again. It was ticklish ground. He saw nothing more of either Phil or Owen until the autumn, and then he ran into them at the house of a mutual friend, where be had gone for a week's shooting. This time the idea that all was not right between the lovers struck him more forcibly than lfnra. Thev were aonarentlv on good terms with one another, and they never dicagreed, but Phil had lost his old denial spirits and become moody and discontented. He was always either in the clouds, or swearing at his luok. Owen had ohanged, too. Her manner had grown tired and listlew, and there was wistful, won deriug look iu bur eyes that it hurt Bob to aue. Poor old Bob I He could tell that something was wrong, but he could tint make out what it was, though he nuzzled that honest head of his until ho thought that ho was going to have brain fever. The new look in Gwen't eyes haunted him. It was always in his brain in the day-time, and it kept him awake at night. He felt impelled to do something but what? That was the question. At last one day lie found Owen nil by herself in the library, crying over the fire, and that was the climax. He nover could bear to see a woman in tears, and when it came to the woman ho loved.why "Miss Warrington," he said, hur riedly. "Miss Warrington, you are in trouble of some sort Will you tell me what it is!" Then, as she did not answer at once, bis hand fell heavily on hnr shoulder, and be add ed, "For God's sake, don't cry." Owen checked her sobs with an effort, and raised her tear-dimmed eyea to his face. "Oh 1 Mr. Helmaloigh'sheexclaimed, "I am in great trouble, and and you are so good and kind. If only you could help me." "Give me a chance," Bob returned, shortly. "I'm a stupid sort of a chap, I know ; no good at tall talk. But if there's anything in the world I can do for you, I'll do it. Do you believe me?" "Oh, res," answered Gwen, putting out her hand to him with an impulsive gesture, while the tears brimmed over afresh. Bob took the trembling little hand and held it in a strong, close clasp a clasp that seemed to carry help and comfort with it. "That's right," he said. "Now, let me hear all al ut it But don't ory for pity's sake, don't cry like that You'll send me mad it you do. Come, dry your eyes." "It's about Phil," Gwen went on, mopping her eyea obediently. "Of course, it's about l'hil. Oh, Mr. Helm sleigh, you have known Phil so much longer than I have, and you must un derstand him better. Can you tell me why he is so so quoer with me?" This was somewhat of a facer. Bob ran his fingers through his short dark hair and drew a deep breath. "Don't you know?" he asked. Gwen shook her head. "No." "Well, I'm blessed if I do," said Bob. Gwen went on in a low, hurried tone. "Phil has never been to me what other girls' lovers are to them ; but I don't know why. I only wish I did. He seemed foud enough of me before we were engaged, but now well, of course the whole thing is a miserable failure, and it gets worse. It isn't tbt Phil is unkind to me; he is as kind and good and patient as a man could be. He considers me before himself; there is nothing be wouldn't do for me, but but he doesn't love me. That is the root ot the whole matter." Her voice broke with a pntheiio lit tle quiver that went straight to Bob's heart. He looked down at the child ish forlorn figure, half loBt in the big leather chair, and felt a wild impulse to take it in his arms. But he re strained the impulse somehow. ' Well, he said, as quietly as he could, "it's a riddle, isn't it! I wish I could holp you to read it. Old Phil must be a lunatic nothing less than a lunatic." "No," Gwen answered, sadly, "he is not a lunatic far from it but there is something I don't understand." She looked up at Bob again, and laid her hand lightly on bis arm. Hitch a pretty little hand. It looked like a Hoowrtake on his rough coat sleeve. "Will you do something for me? she asked ; "I know I oan trust you, and you are rim s oldest friend ; but you must say if you mind very much." Bob turned his head away, for he dared not meet her eyes just then. But be took hold of her hand and squeezed it hard. "Auytlung," he said. "Then," Gwen went on, "try and find out from Phil what it is that has oome betweeu us, and if 1 can do any thing to put it right. I have tried and tailed. But you may succeed. Wilt you try?" xos, said Bob, just as ho would have said it, if she had asked him to go to the other end ot the world for hnr. That same evening he broaohod the subject to Phil. It was rathor a big fenoeto taokle, but he shut his eyea and rode hard at it, going straight to the point in his blundering, honest way. Phil hesitated a little at first, bat in the end he told the truth. You see, old chap," he said, . "it's like this. The whole affair is a ghastly mistake all through. I never pro posed to Gwen at all." Boo gave a great start. "You never proposed to her at all?" he echoed. "Then how, in Heaven's name, did you get engaged? "Well," said Phil, addressing him self to the fire, "it happened in this way. You remember Charlie Thomp son of the th? Well, I was staying down in Devonshire with him last summer, an! there I met Gwen. She took my fanoy awfully at first, and I seemed to tike hers ; so we started a flirtation, and that worked all right until her sister Lily appeared on the scene. When I saw her Lily, I mean I knew I was done for. Bhe's she's different from other girls, somehow. "Well, I soon made up my mind to ask ber to marry me, but I was a bit sby about it, and, like a fool, before speakiug to her I thought I would try and find ont from Gwen if there was a chance for me. I mentioned it to ber one evening, and tried to ask her to put in a good word for me ; but I must have mndo an awTul idiot of tnysidt, for, to my horror, she thought I was proponing to her, and before I knew where I wan she had accepted me. It wan all up with me then. I felt queer, I onn toll, Boh and when I found she bad really oared for tue all the time, whon I thought she wan only playing me at my own game, 1 hadn't the pluck to tell her the mistake she had made. ! wan a coward, I know, but I literally could not do it. I juat lot things slide, and trusted to luck to get me out of the scrape. You see the result Luck deserted me for once, and here I am stranded. I've behaved like a fool and a scoundrel all round, and the worst of it is no one is satisfied. I am miserable, so is Gwen, and so is Lilv and all through a niUundorstnnf ing. Is there anything I can do to put things straight, old chap? Without behaving more like a scoundrel than ever, I menu. What would you do in my place?" Bob thrust his bands deep In bin pockets and nodded his head with great gravity. "Toll the truth," he answered, tersely ; "it's the only thing you can do, and yon ought to have done it long ago. Jovet it's a tight tit, though." Phil fairly groaned. "If I thought Gwon bad given up caring for me I'd tell her fast enough, he rejoined ; "but I don't think she has, and how can I tell her? No, hang it all 1 1 can't. I shall have to see the thing through now, whatever conies." Bob has silent for a moment or two, blinking solemnly at the fire. "Tell you what it is," he said at last, "Miss Warrington has plenty of pluck, and she's as straight as they make 'em. You ought to be straight with her, Phil. It seems to me that the more she oares for you, the more right she has to know the trnth. I may be wrong I'm a stupid aort of chap, I know but that's the way I look at it." Good old Bob I nis honest heart and simple miud bad led him straight to a truth that wiser men have often missed. The story is quite an old one now. It all happened last year, and Phil and Lily are going to be married next iu o nib. And the others? Well, it was only one day last week that Bob said suddenly to Gwen : "I say, do you remember what hap pened a year ago to-day?" And Owen flushed a little as sho answered : "Yes, of course I do. I was in trouble, and I asked you to help me and you did." "And I did," said Bob, and then he put his hand over hers as it lay idle on the arm of her chair. "Tell you what it is," he went on, looking at her with all his honest heart in bis honest eyes, "I wish you would let me go on helping you ; through life, I meau. I'm not much good at talking, but I know wbnt I mean, and I'll always do ray best for you. Will you try me? Will you Gwen?" And Gwen said: "I will" London Truth. A (Jonse ol More Than Forty-Ore Years. Colonol B. B. Jaokson, of Siskiyou County, who is one of the commission ers to the fair, in anxiously awaiting the appearance of a live goose whioh is supposed to be ou its way to this oity, and which, if its identity proves what every indioation points it to be, will efieotually knock the pins from nndor all the talcs told about a goose not living to a great age. History does not tell us at juat what age the "old gray goose died of which the old song treats, but the general im pression seems to be that the fowl in quoBtion soldom attains a greater age than ten or twelve years. The evi dence at hand, however, wonld seem to indicate that his goososbip, of which this item treats, is a bale old follow of over forty-five years. Colonel Jaok son gives the following particulars of the goose's early history : "In 1849 I and eight other OregoniaDS ran aoross Kit Carson and General rreemont with a small force of men near the sink of the Humboldt in Nevada. They had been rounded up by a lot of In dians, but we beat thorn off and all went into camp together on the spot. Provisions had got pretty low, and one day Carson proposed to me that we go out and try for some deer. We started out together and met with poor lnok, and while sepaaated from Kit I took a shot at a lat buoK In tue brush, but he got away from me. Just after I fired I notioed a fluttering sound ooming from the direction in which i had aimed, and npon investi gation found a young goose, which had been slightly injured, but bad be oome entangled in the thick under brush and thus prevented from escap ing. At this junoture Carson came up and I proposed that we take a rest, at the same time telling him that I was going to mark the goose and let it go. For this purpose I took the tin tag whioh always came around the per- oussion-oap boxes furnished by Uncle Sam in these days, and marked the initials of my name and the date on the tag in heavy and enduring charac ters with a file which we carried to re pair the looks of our guns. This tag was twisted around the goose's leg in euoh a manner as to prevent its falling off, and he was released. That was the last I ever heard of the goose until a few days ago, when a letter inform? ! me that 'Jim' Sturgeon, editor ot the Homer Index, had the goose in his possession, alive and well. My infor mation states that the tag is iutaot, and that the initials are still plainly visible." San Frauoisco Call. Last year Egypt sent 9076 tons ot cane sugar to t ranoe, ana it would ap pear as if Egyptian sugar would soon beoome a factor to be reckoned with in the markets of the world UOUSEHOM) MAT1EKH. kff.p xorn ahead Dnr. Ono boars a great deal of talk about moist bread, and a large number of housekeepers shut their bread iu airtight boxes to keep it moist. Such barbarous treatment of broad may be efficacious in keeping it moist, but bread from which fresh air isexolnded always has a disagreable, clayey fla vor, and is nnpalatablu to people of cultured tastes, who appreciate the nutty sweetness that is a prominent chnrao'erixtio of all good bread. The foolish notion of keeping bread moist had its origin in bad cookery. Most of the stuff made by bakers has to be eaten fresh and moist, or not eaten at all. It is so light and wooly that if exposed to the air a few hours, it gnws dry ami husky, and in almost as unsavory and innutritions an chips. A large proportion of home-made bread is similar in character, and is affected in a similar manner by ex- (msure to the air. But properly made tread such bread as ought to be in every intelligent home and on every table three times adny grows sweeter by exposure to the air, and is not at its bent until two or three days old. Bread should be kept in a well-covered box or jar, but it should not be wrapped iu cloths, and the box or jar in which it in kept should have small holes in the top or siden, through which the fresh air can have access. As soon as loaves of bread are taken from the oven they should be exposed freely to pure air, and at no time af terward should they be excluded from it. Make good bread, put it in a well ventilated box after it is perfectly cool, and it will keep sufficiently moist at least a week. Now York Adver tiser. A HOUSE PEST. It would seem at times as if no amount of vigilance would free un from or keep us rid of the moth. In thn winter time, like all insects of this olaas, the moth remains torpid, in a cryaalis state, but no sooner do the warm spring months come than he conspicuously obtrudes himself into everything. It does not help the case to know that the male moth is entire ly harmless, and tbnt it in the female who does the mischief; she lays her eggs in every kind of textile fabric, and as soon an these hatch out they begin the work of destruction. Many good housekeepers believe that by keeping their rooms dark they will ex clude the moth, but this is a great mistake as, like many other evil things, this creature prefers darkness to light. As yet 'jo remedy ban been disoovered that will destroy the moth, for the reason that we cannot find where the eggs are laid ; but it is well to know that they will never deposit their eggl where there in light, and knowing tbif we can nee that light itself serves as preventive, if not a cure. Wherever il is possible to do so, every article ol wear stored away in closets should b exposed for some time to the sunlight before being done np in pnpersor laid away in boxes that are moth proof. The fumes of camphor, as is well known, have the effect ot driving ofl moths, but as soon as one enters house that is so protected, the cam phor manifests itself in an unpleasant way, and n tho streets and in the cars the odor ot camphor tolls of gar ments that have reoently been pro tected from the moths. The buffalo moth is even more destructive of oar pets than the ordinary kind. As they invariably lay eggs along the edges ol the carpets near tho walls, a slight sprinkling of kerosene will destroy their egga, and while the odor is evao more unpleasant than that of camphor, it has the advantage ot being mors volatile, and in a day or two at the most its evideuoe will have disap peared. It has been disoovered by e New England housekeeper that the butt alu moth prefers materials of a blue or red color. The same keen ob server availed herself of this informa tion when the buffalo moths were on the wing. She saturated strips of red and blue flannel with a preparation of arseuio and kept these along the edges of the carpet for a week or ten days. After the eggs were laid she took the strip away, first noticing that they were pretty well covered with moth eggs, but as soon as the ordttures hatched out they began eating the flannel and so ended their own career. Cherry Mousse One pint of cream, three tablespoonfuls of sugar, one hall teaspoonful of vanilla and one cupful of chorry juice. Whip with egg-beater, put in a close-covered mold and pack in broken ice and rock salt for two hours. It will turn out like a mold of ice-oream, but when cut will be in little needle-like flakes. It is a delicious dessert. Esoalloped Cauliflower This dish may be prepared with oold boiled cauliflower. Break the cauliflower apart, bntter a seallop-JinU or shallow pudding dish ; put in a layer of cauli flower, moisten with cream aauoe and sprinkle over a little grated cheese. Put in another layer of the ingredi ents until the dish is full, oover wita buttered bread crumbs and bake htlf an hour in a moderate oven. Summer Lettuce Dressing Take four tablespoonfuls of oil, two table spoonfuls ot tarragon vinegar, a half teaspoouful of salt and one-half tea- suoonful of nsDrika. or Hungarian red pepper. Add the salt and pepper to the oil and mix them thoroughly. It is beat to first measure out one table spoonful of oil and mix the seasoning with that, then to add the remainder. Add the vinegar, a drop at a time, and stir rigorously. The mixture siould look like an emulaion. There is now made a convenient little aff.ur for dropping oil, a drop at a time, in sacking salad dressing. REALM 0 MSIIION. SUM MR It STYfiKS IS WOMAN'S 1MIKS9 AND MILMMKItV. English Walking Hats revolution In Sleeves Fancies In Waists New Ways of Wearing the Hair. T HE little hat with the teacup crown baa given place to a chip with adentinthe orown, U turned up on the eides. This WALrmo BAT. TRATEMKO RAT. walking hat ie thoroughly English and decidedly ugly. latest frm.Es nt sleeves. The evolution of the eleeve, from the close-fitting, nnoomfortable affair of a few years ago to the exaggerated balloon and fantastio arrangement eOSTTXES or which bears the name to-day, is nn in teresting example of the influence ot fashion on taste. It is, ot course, an aooepted fact that fashions must J change, otherwise the style of dress would become a weariness to the eye, but if a limit could be put on the vari ations in sleeves that would keep them within the range ot beauty and grace ful outline, it would be a step toward improvement. Some of the styles are modernized copies of sleeves in the old portraits, and are worthy of illus tration for their ingenuity and eccen tricity ot design rather than for their beauty and useful aess. A very pecu liar variety has the fulness laid in deep plaits at the inside seam, and is trimmed with Vandyke points ot lace whioh half cover the sleeve. Another hae deep, plain cuff on lower sleeve, whioh is out with a band on the top that extenda to the shoulder. Ciroular cuffs at the elbow, and ciroular epau lettes at the shoulder, are still another faacy, and draped butterfly puffs are divided by two plaited ruffles. The ptffs are really pretty tor evening sleeves, when made over another sleeve of laee. New York Sun. hiv oounrOREa. To-day the hair reoeives greater care, perhaps, than aver, and it sub mits to endless changes in arrage ment, but there is next to no falsity in it The modish woman may change her coiffure 300 times in nineteen years, as was said to have done a oer- tain Roman queen, but it cannot be reproaohed to her as Martial re proaohed a woman ol his time : "You are a composition ot falsities; while von live in Borne your hair grows on the banks ot the Rhine.". A woman STTIJtS IX SXIKTIS. uowadays grows her own hair, making no pretence of great quantity. ' It in wonderful how small the fash ionable knot is. Merely large enough to centre the lines from nape and forehead, rather below the crown into a knot bound round with a golden circlet. This circlet is formed of two or three gold bound combs, permitting the waved spaces to be loosened about the ears or neck, or wherever there may be a defective form to be hidden. It rolls looBely off the forehead and temples and drops half over the ear. Sometimes it is parted and combed down over the ears eaoh way, because great width is the fashion, but not every face can stand the "part." This width accentuates the oval of the face and hints at intellect and isa long way better than the high, narrow style, with its brazen display of the ear and its suggestion of "rooms to let, unfur nished." In London, outside of the "smart set," there is a large oircle of society, solid aad wealthy, who like real Eng lish fashions. They wear most excel lent materials, but are utterly devoid of modern style and chic The young girls nnd matrons ere wearing a monstrous thing on the back of their heidn called a "bun," which is the old fashioned "waterfall" or chignon in its fullest proportions, and in most cases, palpably false. I am told that the "bun" is a a past fashion and that the "duchesses and ladies" do not rrear it, and do their hair in the Frenoh knot, but still half the wolt-dresaed people in the street and the theater are adorned with this disfiguring mass of hair covered with a fine net, and the front hair finely frizzed and confined over the brow with an invisible net CBEFOW A TO STT.K. The hats are large and drooping, ol else very "flyaway," and the bonneti worn with the "bun" are most pecu liar. They are so flat to the head at not to show from tha front, and a large Alsatian bow is put on the back, frequently so far back as to rest on the "waterfall" instead of the head, giving a moet disconnected appearance ot hair and bead. A LONDS BTJK. A peculiarity of English womea it the wearing ot elaborate coiffures. Nowhere is so muoh false hair worn as here. Jt is made np in all sorts of in genious ways, to be pinned on bodily. The fashion of parting the hair and wearing the little cnrl in the middle ot the forehead so prevalent in New York is not seen here. Instead, the fine frizzes worn by the Princess ot Wale and her daughters are imitated by most of the sex. Detroit Free Frees. The polonaise idea gains favor but slowly, and the long apron, slig'itly draped, appears to keep it company. A costume that has some good sugges tions is of bouroutte diagonal in black, with flecks ot blue and white. This is made np with a hell skirt, with panels of light blue cloth with plain surface. There is a hlf-waistooat also of the light blue, the oolor shew ing only from the bust to the bodioe, and in open slashings to the tops ol the darts on either aid of the front A small V in the cuffs is the only color on the sleeves. Ivy is a great fashion this year. Bonnets are made entirely of ivy, with little tufts ot rose-pink roses in the trout and baok. Mauy of the brown hats are trimmed with oornlower- blue, interspersed with mignonette and poppies, whether of the nav cyolameu shade or red, blended wit aigrettes, which, ot course, are blaok, and no hat or bonnet would seem to be the fashion unless the blooan rest ou the hair.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers