.THE 80NQ OF -
Walk 6 own tha Taller of Sllenes
Tlnwn ttia film nlAlua .iu.BUtial
Anil I h.. k. t.ll . ( ...
Around ma, sate Uod's and m owat
M the hiuh of my heart In na holy
A hovera where augels bava llownl
. ont ago I tM weary of voloea
Whose muale my heart oonhl not wlnj
Mnir ago I was weary of noises
That fretted my aoul wl.h their dint .
lonir ao I was waary of planes
Where I met but tha human and tlu.
I walked In tha world with tha worldly)
t crave I wlmt tne world never gnvoi
And I suldi "In tire World ennh Ideal,
That shines Ilka a star on life's wave,
la wrecked on the shores of tha Real,
And eleeps like a (I renin in a grave."
And (till did I pine for tha Terfent,
And atlll found the Falie with tho Ttuet
I sought 'mid tha Human for Heaven,
But caught a mere gllmpae of Its llluet
And I wept when the clouds of the Mortal
Vailed even that glimpse from my view.
And I tolled on, heart-tired of the Human,
And 1 moaned 'mid the mazea of men,
Till I knelt, long no, at an altar
Aad heard a voice eall me. Kluce then
1 walk down the Valley of Hllence
That lies far beyond mortal ken.
PHILIP DIXON'S GAME LEG.
i VfVV VV
Mabel Vinlng was & bright, pretty
girl, with a complexion like wild roses,
eyes like sapphires, and a smile like a
sunbeam; and1 a thing which Is per
taps rather unusual In pretty girls
her disposition corresponded to her
appearance.
Ot the three men who were reported
to be In the running for hor affections,
Philip Dixon had 1800 per annum;
Walter Libstock, 1000; Alfred Her
bert, 700. Mrs. Vinlng regarded them
In that order, valuing them by the pe
cuniary standard. Mabel's Btandard
Was the amatory standard. One of
the three she loved. For the other
two, except as friends, she cared not
rap. But she had not yet declared
her preference for the favored one.
She wished first of all to bring her
mother round to her own way of think
ing. "Dixon, my boy," cried the love
crazed Libstock, "life Is imposBlblo for
me without that divine anivel. If I
cannot win her for my wife, I shall
certainly go mad, or die, or both."
Dixon was a kind-hearted man, who
was readily touched by the sight of
distress and woe. go that, Instead of
saying to the distracted lover, "Don't
be a fool," or "Die, then, and have
done with It," he answered, sympathet
ically: "I'm awfully sorry for you, old
man. Have you proposed, may I ask,
Mid been refused, or "
"Proposed? No, Indeed!" retorted
Libstock, half fiercely. "What's the
use of my proposing as long as you
are hanging about after her?"
"I? What the deuce do you moan? I
have never thought of Miss Vinlng In
that way, nor, I am sure, has she of
me. exclaimed Dixon In arreat Baton.
"Herbert came to see ma thin morn
ing ajid told me something very par
ticular. Herbert was good enough to
ay," continued LlbBtock, "that as he
could not win Miss Vinlng and happi
ness himself, and that as she had as
sured him In the most candid manner
that there was no possible chance of
his ever doing so, ho would rather
see me marry her than anybody else,
mad that was why he had come and
recommended me to press my suit;
which, considering that he himself
had been rejected, was most handsome
and generous of him. . Don't you think
o?
"I do, Indeed, Libstock. There's not
one rejected suitor in a thousand who
would be man enough to do such a
thing," assented Philip Dixon, emphat
ically. "But Herbert said and I quite agree
With him," went on Libstock, fixing
Ills solomn, gloomy eyes upon the
other's face, "that you are the obsta
cle, and that until you are out of tho
way, Mrs. Vinlng will not let Mabel
iaccept me."
"Psha! my dear follow. Miss Viumg
bas never thought of regarding me In
the light of a lover, as I have already
told you."
"But, as I, also, have already told
you, Mrs. Vtning has. There's the
crux. And so, by Herbert's advice,
I've come to you as to a true friond
and a thorough good fellow, to seek
your kindly co-oporatlon. Dixon" (his
voice suddenly took a tone of piteous
appeal), "you don't love her. She's
nothing to you. It It won't be any
arlef to you to have your proposal re
fused "
"My proposal?" ejaculated the
amazed Dixon.
"Oh, Dixon, my true friend, my dear
friond, my best of pals, couldn't you,
(or my sake, In order to ensure my
life-long happiness to say nothing of
hers couldn't you, oh, couldn't you,
write and ask her to marry you, add
ing that you bad lately experienced
heavy losses, that your Income waa
now reduced to only 500 a year, but
that you you lovetJ her very dearly,
and hoped that she would overlook
your poverty, and become your wife?
Of course, she'd refuse you; and under
the curcumstances described In your
letter, her mother would back her up
In her refusal. So the ground would
be clared for me. And all would
come right," cried) Libstock, his face
Bushed and his eyes burning with
eager excitement.
Dixon tried to resist But the oth
er's eager insistence carried him off
his feet
And at length he was Induced, or
rather I should say, impelled against
his will by the lover's resolute deter
mination, to writ the letter. It ran
Jt follow:
' "My Dear Miss Vining I writ to
THE MY8TIC
Do you ask what I found In tha Vallayt
'Tie my Trystlng l'laoe with tka Divine,
And I tell nt the feet of tha Holy,
And above me a voice anldi ''Be mine.
And there arose from the depths of mv spirit
An eoho-"My heart shall be thine."
Do yon ank how I live In tlin Valley?
1 weep and I dream and 1 pray,
Hut my ti'ars are as swjet as tha duw-drops
That fall on the roses In Mnyt
And my prayer, like a perfume from Causera
Aaoe'udeth to God night and day.
In the hush of tha Valley of Silence
I drnam nil the song that I slngt
And the muste Hosts down the dlui Valley
Till eaeh finds a word for a wing,
That to heart, like the Dove of the Deluge
A message of l'enoe they may bring.
And I have seen Thotiitlils In tha Valley-
Ah! me, how my spirit was stirred I
And they wear holy rells on their faces,
Their footsteps can scarcely he henrdi
They paa through the Valley like Virgins,
Too pure for the touch of a word I
Do you ask me the plnce of the Valley,
Ye hearta that are harrowed by care?
It Hath afar between mountains,
And Uod and His angels are tberei
And one la the dark mount of Borrow,
And one the bright mountain of Prayer,
rattier nyan.
t. VVaVViVVw
tell you that I am very deeply at
tached to you, and to ask you to
marry me. I ott&'ht to say that I have
lately had heavy losses and my Income
Is now reduced' to about 500 a year.
But If you return my affection, as I
earnestly hope you do, I bolleve that
we can be happy even upon 500 a
year. I await your reply In great sus
pense. Yours most sincerely,
"PHILIP DIXON."
Next afternoon, at about 4 o'clock,
Libstock looked in on Philip Dixon to
see whether Miss VInlng's refusal was
yet to hand. Dixon's housekeeper,
who opened the door to him, met him
with a voluble tale of woe:
"If you please, sir, Mr. Dixon bad a
nasty haccldent hafter luncheon to
day, Blr; he fell down stairs, sir, and
damaged himself rather seriotiB. Ho's
now confined to his bed, sir, but ho'U
see you, he told nie, though he's In
too much pain to see no one helse. And
I do 'ope aa you'll Indooce him to see
a doctor, sir; which I've been wanting
to send for one hall this haftcrnoon.
But he won't lot me. He's very obsti
nate at times. Is Mr. Philip. Will you
step this way, sir?"
Libstock stepped that way, which
was up to Dixon's bedroom. He found
his friend In bed, looking very much
shaken.
"Awfully sorry to hear of your acci
dent, old man," he said. "I hope it's
nothing serious."
"No-o-o! I say. Is the door shut?"
demanded Dixon, in a hoarRe whisper.
Libstock replied in the affirmative.
"I must ftell you the truth," said
Dixon, who was evidently in a state
of extreme agitation. "I'm not hurt a
bit. My accident was all a sham. But
that's quite a minor matter. Libstock,
an awful a terrible thing has hap
pened. Miss Vinlng has accepted me."
"Accepted you?" cried Libstock,
turning as pale as death.
"Yes, she has accepted mo, in spite
of my reduced fortunes. It appears
that she has been in love with mo
for a long while. I wish to heaven I
had known it before I was fool enough
to write to her. But thcro's her letter.-
Read it for yourself."
He tossed it over to Lib3toek, who
took it up In his trembling fingers,
and read thl3:
"My Doar Mr. Dixon Your letter
has made me very happy. I have cared
for you you can't think how long mid
how truly. Please come and see mo
at once. Your loving MABEL."
"It's an awful position isn't it?"
ejaculated Dixon, wiping the perspira
tion from his forehead. "You can't
think what my feeliuga were when
that letter came. Of course, it was
out of the question that I could go andi
see her. So I made a show of falling
down stairs and laming myself in or
der that I might be confined to my
bed and thus debarred from all pos
sible chance of an interview, while I
am turning over in my mind what Is
to be done to escape from this terrible
situation."
Just then came a loud ring at the
front door bell.
"That's she. I know it's she," Dix
on almost shrieked, so great was his
agitation. "Don't let her come ' up
here. I won't see her. I"
Libstock went to the door. There
stood Mrs. Blake, bearing a note upon
a salver.
"It's from her," he said, "How well
I know her dear writing. Another
love letter! Oh, Dixon!" (with a deep
drawn groan) "If only you had the
senso to know your own luck!"
"My Dearest One I am so grieved to
hear of your accident. Mamma says
shall she come and nurse you? Your
devoted MABEL."
"Iick? Do you call this luck?"
ejaculated Dixon, almost beside him
self, with .agitation. "Here, give me
paper and pencil, quick, and that copy
of the Field to write upon. Come and
nurse me, Indeed! I must put a stop
per on that at once. .Let me see.
What lie can I tell? Ah, I have it."
And be hastily scribbled these
words:
"It is too sweet of your dear moth
er. But I already have two trained
nurses. And the doctor say he won't
answer for my life If I am allowed to
see any one. Your affectionate
"PHILIP."
This mendacious epistle, after being
duly sealed up in an envelope, was
handed' to Mrs. Blake for delivery to
the "y$ung pusson." who was "waiting
tor Uyj banswer."
Bhqrtly afterwards Libstock, In the
depth of gloom and despair, took bis
departure, leavlni th ofifortunats
Dixon to bear his situation as best
he might He had got his friend into
the hole. But he did not appear to
feel that there was any -obligation on
his part to get him out of it again.
He was thinking only of himself and
his own departed dream of happiness.
No such selfish being on the earth as
a disappointed lovert
Dixon temnlned In his boJroom for a
week, during which he' had notes dally
from Mnbel Vinlng, eftch of which ren
dered him more frantic than the.lnnt.
He must writo and tell her the'truth.
rewinding all former fairy tales. He
ilnrcd not. He must. At last he nerved
himself to wrtto the dlfileult letter.
"It will be a fearful blow to her," he
roUloqitlzed. "She will say and tru
ly that I have behaved nwfttlly bad
ly. I hopo it won't break her heart. I
drend receiving her reply more than I
can say."
Break her heart! Not a bit of it.
Miss VInlng's reply was of the most
cheerful description. Here it is in ex
tenso: '"My Dear Mr. Dixon It's all right.
Don't apologise. Mr. Libstock was
Very tiresome, and Alfred and I de
cided that he must be got rid of; espe
cially as mamma, with the best possi
ble intentions, was always making op
portunities for me to be with him
nlono. So, by dint of plausible fic
tions, Alfred Induced hlro to Induce
you (whom he knew to be tue best na
turcd and compliant of mortals) to
vttite me a certain letter.
"I accepted you. I can Imagine your
horror when you received my accept
ance. I laughed myself to sleep that
night thinking of it. Any way, it set
tled Mr; Libstock. Moreover, mam
ma, when she heard through me of
your losses, dismissed you also from
her plans altogether. I may say, I
told her that I had refused you, which,
in fact, though not in words, is the
truth.
"Sho is now resigned to my marriage
with Alfred, which will take place In
the summer.
"Forgive mo for having played a
trick upon you, on my own account,
beyond what wan strictly necessary.
You deserved It for telling me thoso
shocking flb3. Yours very sincerely,
"MABEL VINING."
"P. S'. How's your poor leg? I
wonder fit Its condition, seeing how
shamefully it has been pulled.
"M. V."
QUAINT AND CURIOUS.
An Ohio mnn has one of the most
unique collections of autographs In the
country. It contains the names of over
twelve thousand actors and actresses,
bolides 1700 pictures, and over fifty
thousand programs, posters and the
like.
Tho antiquity of the fan in the East
particularly In Asia, extends far back
beyond the possibility of ascertaining
Its date. In China and India the orig
inal model of the fan was the wing
of a bird, and at one time was part of
the emblems of imperial authority.
A German firm in tho well known
town of Essen are making a good
thing out of old sardine tins. Huge
quantities of old tins are conveyed to
the works, where they, are' treated by a
system of electrolytic deposition, and
the tin and Iron recovered for use in
manufacturing metal goods.
Three is an extraordinary old man
at present living In Russia, in tho vil
lage of Marcwka, in the government of
Smolensk, known as "Swot" Slnlp. He
W03 born In May, 1775, and Is, therefore
127 yenrs old. lit has never bnen ill,
and Is able to walk each Sunday two
verr.ts to the village church. He also
does work at the schools, knits stock
ings and weaves sandals.
Teeth of all kinds have been wor
shipped, and are, in fact, venerated as
relics in some religious Bhrines. Bud
dha's tooth is preserved In an Indian
temple; the Cingalese worship the
tooth of a monkey; while the ele
phant's and shark's tooth Borve a simi
lar purpose among tue Malabar and
Tonga islanders respectively. The Si
amese were formerly the possessors of
the tooth of a sacred monkey, which
they valued very highly, but In a war
with the Portuguese they lost the: holy
grinder and had to pay $3,600,000 to
get It back again. It is now kept In a
small gold box, Inclosed in six other
boxes in one of the many temples of
the Siamese capital.
The American peanut crop averages
about five million bushels a year, and
twenty-two pounds of the nutB make
a bushel. About (10,000,000 worth of
peanuts are yearly consumed, either
in their natural form or in candy. The
shucks furnish good food for pigs, and
the peanut vine forms a first-class fod
dor for mules. Vast quantities of pea
nuts are shipped each year to Great
Britain and the continent from both
Africa and Asia, where they are con
verted into "pure Lucca olive oil." A
bushed of peanut shells will afford
about a gallon of oil, and the meal is
used for feeding horses, and is also
baked into a variety ot bread which has
a large sale in Germany and France.
Sleepy Railway Travelers.
To sleep at any moment is undoubt
edly a sign of physical soundness and
Philistine sanity, especially in the mat
ter of the brain and its functions. A
physician would have little anxiety
about the general condition of a pa
tient who could sleep at will on a rail
way Journey. In these days of hurry
and bustle there could be no more
encouraging sight to the. philosopher
than a railway carriage at noonday
full ot sleepy passengers. Medical
Fl ess and Circular.
Tho Candy Lion.
A cm 1y lion's very poo 1,
DmmiHB he cannot lilte,
Kor wnntler roaring for bis food,
Nor eut up folks lit night.
But, though It's very nloo for me,
It a uot so nine for hlmi
For every day he seems to be
More shapeless and more slim.
At flrt, there's no tall any morei
And, next, he has no bead)
And tnen he's Just a randy roar,
And might as well be dead.
The Christian Register.
A Weed Seed Collection.
At a street fair that the writer at
tended last fall one of the moBt unique
and interesting exhibits made was
that of a collection ot weed, grain and
other seeds which was entered by a
16-year-old schoolboy. A talk with
the young man who had so laboriously
collected, classified and labeled the ex
hibit disclosed the fact that he had
gotten the idea from an agricultural
publication which had endeavored to
leach the Identification of seed by il
lustration. He had concluded to im
prove on this by tearing from the ac
tual Beeds and he had Bttcceeded ad
mirably. He Informed us that he
could examine tho grass seeds that
are usually contaminated by woed seed
and Identify and name every impuri
ty that he finds in them. This is an
Idea that might be taken advantage of
with benefit by not only the boys and
girls on the farm, but also thoso of
older growth. It Is not only a prac
tical study of botany which will be in
teresting to pursue, but it will be of
great practical benefit. The man who
can examine tho various clovers atv.l
lenm to what extent they are m'xed
with weeds In only ono In a thousand
and his knowledgo will be the means
of savins his pocket-book from deple
tion without proper returns and his
lnnd from becoming foul from weeds
sows with the grass seed. Chicago
Drovers' Journal.
A Yankee Notion.
Every reader must have seen the
largo steel squares used by carpenters
in their work, but I doubt if many
know when they wero flist made, or
how they came to bo used. The mak
ing of those steel squares is a great
industry now, but when tho 19th cen
tury began there wns not ono In uso.
The Inventor wns a poor Vermont
blacksmith, whoso namo was Silas
Hawes. Ho was poor, and had a largo
family, and it was hard to keep the
wolf from tho door.
One dull, rainy day, a tin-peddler
called at his shop to have the black
smith fasten a shoo on his horse.
These peddlers traveled up and down
the country, calling at every farm
house, and buying everything In tho
way of barter. This poddlor had a
number of worn out steol saws on hla
Cart, and the blacksmith1 saw them.
He bargained for thotn, shoeing tiio
peddler's horse and roceivlng the
saws In pnyment.
Howes had nn Idea, and as It proved
it was a hnppy ono. It was to polish
and wold two saws togothor at right
angles, and thus make a rulo or meas
ure superior to anything then In uso.
Aftor a fow attempts he succeeded In
making a "square," marked It off Into
inches and fractions of Inches, and
found It answered all tho purposes
for which he had Intended it.
Within a fow weeks he had mndo
a number in his uparo hours. Theso
be sent out by peddlors, who found
every carpenter engor to buy ono.
Soon ho found orders coming in faster
than he could fill thorn. One of his
steel squares would sell for $0 or $7,
which was much more than It cost
him. He applied for and obtained a
patent on his invention eo that no ono
elso would doprive him of the profit.
But Silas worked early and lato, and
Ktt he earned money he bought iron
which .he manufactured Into steel, and
ho hired men to help him. In a fow
years ho was able to erect a large fac
tory, and put in machinery for the
making of squares, which by this time
had found thotr way into every town
and city in the country.
Such was tho small beginning ot a
large and important industry. People
came miles to see the wonderful
forges, the showers of sparks flying
from tho heavy hammers, and to listen
to the din of a 1000 workmen, And it
all came about from a thoughtful
man's seeing a fow old worn out saws
in the poddler's wagon. Our Young
Folks.
8acred Bird of Guatemala.
In the tall and dreamy forests .that
clothe the backbone ot Central Ameri
ca there flit the most beautiful birds
In the world. And tho most beautiful
ot them Is the quezal.
No one who bas ever' seen one of
these wonderful creatures would dream
ot being able to convey more than a
pale hint of their beauty.
The quezal Is a small bird, not larg
er than a wild dove. It hats a head
dress that is exactly like an antique
helmet in shape. A flashing golden
green plays over it.
The plumage of the body does not
He in orderly rows, feather fitting into
feather, as in most birds. Instead,
beautiful plumes lie in bold waves and
overhang the body. These immense
feathers can hardly be said to be col
ored. They are rather liko jewels, for
they flash in the richest emerald thai
can be imagined.
The same glowing green extends
over the two middle feathers f the
tall, which Is three feet long and floats
out on wind when tho quezal files, The
other feathers of the tall are bia.
and white. , ,
Breast f.nd lower body of the quezal
are scarlet a scarlet so Intense that,
when one sees a quezal flit through the
pilmevnl forests of the Central Ameri
can cordlllcras, the eye gets a con
fused Idea of a tongue of flame licking
through the trees.
When Cortea landed In Mexico he
found temples that were erected In
honor of the quezal. The feathers of
the bird wore valued at more than
gold, and the kU'.Ing of the quezal whs
a national crime. Every year the em
peror of Mexico sent tnen out to gath
er quezal foal hers. This was done by
catching the birds with bird lime, very
carefully taking the two long green
feathers from the tall and then liber
ating them again.
No one was permitted to wear que
zal feathers except the emperor. Mon
tezuma's famous crown was mndo of
hundreds of the green ton feathers,
upheld by fine strips of precious wood
and bound together w..j gold, so that
when donned the crown stood almost
three feet above tho forehead of the
wearer.
A splendid figure was the nztec em
peror who wore wds feather crown.
His cloak was made of almost equally
rreclous bright blue feathers. On
arms and nnkles he wore rings of sol
Id gold. His belt was gold, set with
gems, and he bore In his hand r.
on spear sot with the richest Jewels of
the secret mines of Central America.
So the unhappy Montezuma was
clothed when he sat In council. So he
was clothed when he received the
bloody Cortez and his men.
The mythology of the Central Amer
icas is almost wholly lost. The May
p.r.B. who loved tho quezal, wero a for
Rotten race aaeg before Cortoz found
the wonderful Aztec empire In its
glory. But a few of the legends havo
survived In vague forms, and' ono of
thorn I tho beautiful one of the quezal
bird's creation.
Once upon n tlmo, says tho legend,
there arose a great mnn In Central
America. His nnmo was Quozalcoatl,
and he was noble to behold and had a
groat heart. Ho was born far away
in the Land cf tho Sunrlao, Tlnpallan,
which IIos across tho seas and never
Is darkened.
His fnco was fair and he had shin
ing eyes. A full beard flowed to his
breast and hlj look was the look of
cnlmness and pence.
Long ho waited In the sunland of
Tlnpallan, till tho right time. Then he
crossed the son. His canoe was a
mighty seat-hell, and it wns blown
over the deep as foam is blown along
from ridge to rhino of the rollers. So
ho landed pn Mexico's shore.
Clothed In pure white he wanderoj
through tho lnnd. Ho asked for no
jncrlflce of boast or man for his altar.
Ho ncceptcd offerings only of flowers
end fruits. Gentleness, friendship and
love wero all thnt ho preached.
Where ho trod the earth rejoiced.
Green lay his path behind him. Bar
ren lands became rich, rich lands be
enmo prodigal. Cotton sprang up
everywhere. Mnlzo grew to such di
monBions that a man could carry only
ono oar at a tlmo. Fruit filled the
land with Its fragrnnce.
And wherever Quezaleoatl appeared
the air became filled with the perfume
of flowers nnd birds of amazing beauty
flew thrcuKh it.
Eo swootly did they sins thnt men's
soul's molted when they hearJ. War
rlors 1 filrt their weapons aside and
kneeled to listen.
Moat glorious of tho birds was one
It shone scarlet, and that was Its dear
breast. It shono golden, and that wu
from its tiny helmet and its long, long
tall.
Wherever this Mrd appenred men
knew that tho Goj Quezalcoatl, wa
nlfrh. So tiioy learned to know the
shining bird as tho bird of tholr Sun
God and thoy called it Quozal.
It was the golden age of America,
But there camo a day when Tezcatli.
poca, the God of Darkness, gave Que
zalcoatl a magic potion that made him
old and weak and filled his heart with
unuttorablo longing for his home in
Tlnpnllnn. And he went to the shore
of the soa and he stepped into hit
great shell canoe and went out into
the soa never to rotnrn.
When his shining boat disappeared
below the horizon, the maize became
small and the cotton died and the
hearts of men awoke again to war. -
In the battles that camo, the tem
ples of Quesfaleoatl wero thrown down
His priests fled from place to place,
till at last only a few still worshipped
iilm and performed his rites In the
doopest of tho deep forests in the mys
terious mountains.
Then thoso few faithful ones died,
too. Palms and creepers covered the
ruins of the last of the altars. Gener
ation followed generation and passed
away and at last all the races of the
Mayans passed away and the Aztecs
came and grew and built a new nation
over the ruins of the old.
The Mayan nation hod been so long
forgotten thnt no man could tell aught
of them except dim stories half re
memberod. The Aztec nation became
very, very old, and then It, in turn,
passed before the white man from
Spain. ,
Through all the ages one creature
has remained unchanged and boautlful
and ever free. It Is tho quezal. And
it still flies in it's ancient splendor
through the lost land of long dead na
tions In Central America. Sun Fran
cisco Chronicle.
Mf J . The BfeJ
uHEW,YORk FASHIONS
New York City. Blouse Jackets with
little capes of various sorts are among
tho features of advnncrd styles, nnd
are exceedingly becoming to young
girls. The very stylish May Mnnton
example Illustrated Is suited alike to
the general wrap nnd the costume, but,
as shown, Is of Ithotie blue cheviot nnd
mnkes part of n suit. The trimming Is
bands of the same nmterlnl stitched on
with cortlcelll silk and held at the
points with handsome buttons.
The blouse is mndo with fronts nnd
bnck. The enpe Is separate nnd is cir
cular over the shoulders nnd extended
at the front to form stoics, at the buck
,ADIES FANCY WA
to give n V effect nnd to make the pos
tillion. It can be omitted and the
blouse mndo plain when preferred. To
tho lower edge arc attached the basque
portions. The sleeves are full but
tucked above the elbows and allowed
to form puffs below. At the wrists are
plnln straight cuffs simply stitched.
The qunutlty of material required for
tho medium size (eleven yenrs) Is two
nnd a qunrter yards forty-four inches
wide or two yards fifty-two Inches
Wide.
Hints For the Summer Wardrobe,
What pretty fashions wo nro given
this yenr. We never feel qulto sure of
styles until the exclusive places show
the very latest things Tni'ls has put
out, because the best come last. But
this great event bns come off nnd wom
ankind can settle down to dream over
and plan her summer wardrobe, sure
she li on the right track.
Quito n notlienslc feature is the use
of the fine, thin lnces, frequfntly the
old-fashioned silk lnces we have not
seen for so long. There has been such
a hue nnd cry about the vogue of
heavy, course Ince that the nppearnuce
of these fragile, delicate laces comes
much as a surprise. They nre used,
however, Only on the thin sheer mus
lins, orgnndlos nnd fine handkerchief
Hueii8 that build the summer gowns.
The coarse lace will still be used on the
heavy linens and the voiles and eta
mines. But on tbo fine sheer fabrics
the silk crepes, the French moussellues,
the filmy printed organdies this fluer
lace is used. It is a nice, discriminat
ing touch, and it takes the best of tuste
and judgment Just when to use it and
when to leave it alone.
Another point to be noticed Is the lin
gerie effect in the gowns. Of course
the abundance of handiwork used could
not but make a trend this way. It is
all very dainty and sweet and simply
idyllic for the summer girl.
Handkerchief points are much no
ticed. Borne ot the daintiest trimming
misses' blouse jacket.
on gowns look as If the points of One
Ince handkerchiefs' hnd been taken
nnd applied to the gown In all manner
of dnlnty ways, lit fact, one ot the
loveliest gowns shown In n recent
opening Is made of fine crepo de chene
In handkerchief squares embroidered,
nnd held together by dnlnty Vol Ince.
The fronts of the little bolero effect
are gracefully drooping handkerchief
points, and the long almost angel
sleeve Is entirely of this- picturesque
handkerchief point effect.
Pklrts, many of them, ihow the three;
rullle effect. There are not three ruf
fles as a rule, but the skirt is shirred
in three bands, each fuller than the
other, nnd each having a heading, so
thnt nlmost It seems ns If the ruffles
wore there. Philadelphia Telegraph.
The Short Fonr-ln-Haml.
Curtailed cravat ends mark the)
"Short Four-in-IInnd" which is wora
with a morning blouse. As so many
waists are trimmed with pendant col
lar ends, In fact, long, flat streamers of
cloth or silk. It would be decidedly too
much of n good thing to have elongated
cravat ends nlso fluttering down to the
wnlst. The fresh-looking "shorts", are
made of cotton Cheviot or Oxford clotha
with a brilliant stripe of white upon a
fltill white ground, nnd clusters of light
blue (lots or pen rings sprinkled lav
ishly upon the shining white stripes.
Neckwear For Vonn Glrla.
Different styles of neckwear In tho
simpler designs, turn-over or protection
collars, wash stocks nnd the like, that
are worn by tho grown-ups, are to be
found nlso In the young girl's ward
robe. 1ST LADIES' SKIKT.
Woiiib.o'1 shirt WaUt.
Tlnln shirt waists nro always in
vogue. The very desirable May Man
ton one illustrated Includes just the
fulness nt the neck which renders it
becoming to all figures and is made
with the new wide centre pleat The
original Is made of white dotted batiste
with large pearl buttons, but all walst
lnga are equally appropriate. The tie
can either be made of the same or of
contrasting material as preferred.
The waist consists of fronts and back
only and Is fitted by means of shoulder
nnd tinder-arm seams. The fronts are
gathered at the neck edges and again
at the waist line, but the bnck is plain
and drawn down snugly at the belt.
The sleeves widen as. they approach
the cuffs, which are straight and can
be held by means of buttons or links
ns preferred.
The quantity of material required for
the medium size is tour and a half
5r
A PLAIN SHIRT WAIST.
yards twenty-one Inches wide, four
yards twenty-seven inches wld. three
yards thirty-two Inches wldo or two
and a Quarter yardu tarty-four inches,
wide.