TO PREVENT TUMBLES. A Simple Bnt Effective Device for the Children's Bed. When little folks graduate from the crib, with its safe, close sides, and come into the dignity of sleeping in a "grown up" bed, there is apt to be many a tumble upon the floor in the durkness, particularly if the time be summer, when the bed clothing cannot be "tucked in" closely. Little people are apt to be restless at night, after a hard day's play, apd in tossing about, it is small wonder that they often fall outof bed. The possibility of this catastrophe , lias made unnumbered hosts of mothers sleep "with one eye open," ready to spring up at the sound of unwonted stirring in the next room. Such nervous apprehension is weary ing and altogether unnecessary, for there are a number of simple devices for making the cliildrens* bed un-fnll-out able, if I may so express the idea. One of the best is shown in the accompany ing illustration. A strip of stout linen denim or some other serviceable ma terial is cut to the length of the bed, and hemmed about the edges, having a broad liem at the bottom, through which to tack the strip to the inside of the side pieces of the bed, if both sides i are to be protected. If the bed can bf _ placed against a wall, only the outer side ' /ill require a strip tacked to it. In the upper corners of the strip sew metal rings, and insert hooks in the head-board and foot-board, as shown. When the bed is made up in the morn ing the strip can be folded in under tin. quilts, to be removed and hooked up into place at night. With such a device, the mother can sleep in peace, quite cer tain that the little folk will be found in the morning where they were placed at night—oll the bed instead of under it, where one mother whom I know found j her restless little girl, some hours ufter she had put her to sleep.—Country Gen tleman. LUMINOUS COMPLEXIONS. Striking Effort H In Illumination Soon at a I'ariH Afternoon Tea. Electric lights are out of date at Paris society functions, and gas, can dles and lamps have likewise been superseded. Phosphorescent furniture is the latest fad, and formed an inter esting feature of a unique "five o'clock tea" which took place the other day in the Hue de Longcharaps, Paris. It was not evident where the light came from, but every object in the room was luminous. The ceiling sparkled as with diamonds. Chairs, carpet, pic tures, flowers, teacups—all emitted luminous rays. Nor were these fasci nating gleams limited to the room and its furnishings, but the gowns of the women were also brilliantly phosphor escent, while their complexions gleamed like pearls flooded with moon light. As this idea threatens to become a fnd of 110 small proportions, it should be known by women who long to emit this spoonlike radinnce that there is a luminous face powder which is said to fulfill its mission admirably. There is also in the market a luminous starch with which the clever laundress can give laces, muslins and all the dainty articles of feminine attire a perpetual source of radiance. The idea of an in visibly lighter room, its atmosphere charged with luminous rays, is a very taking one, though it may be ques tioned whether phosphorescent com plexions and self-luminous linen collars would be becoming to all types of wom en.—N. Y. World. Tlow to Wear Your Handkerchief. There is always a right and a wrong way to carry one's handkerchief, as to do everything else. Just now the only proper way is to tuck the little square of linen and lace in one's sleeve at the wrist, allowing it to fall and partially conceal the hand, somewhat after the manner of fhe pretty wrist flounces on the new sleeves. Do not commit so marked a breach of good form as to tuck your handkerchief in at any part of your bodice, but if you want to get the full ornamental value from its pretty border of point de venise or Irish lace, no more effectual method could be devised than this newest fashion. The single consideration, however, that it is a new idea is perhaps having most weight with the majority of women, who nre rapidly converting the fashion into a fad. Good for Sore Throat. Tincture of inyrrh dropped into water i* nn' J .exce!lciit wash for the mouth.and fhe throat. The proper proportions are •[ ten drops of myrrh to a glass of water | DOMESTIC ECONOMY. , Ripping: Up a Garment Is a Task Requir ing Some Skill. ! There is a general impression that it . is an easy enough matter to rip up a . garment. Almost anybody can do it, 1 and it is an undertaking that requires t I no special skill or care. Acting on this t ieda, clothing is pulled, torn, cut with . knives, snipped with scissors and, flnal . ly, taken to pieces ufter this unprofita | ble fashion, and the operator comes and I declares that everything is ready. A dyer who handles a large quantity of black goods says that he long ago gave up expecting anybody to rip a garment up us it should be done. If the seams are ripped, they are full of threads; sometimes there are buttons 011; hooks and eyes arc not uncommon; tlic fronts of them are stuck full of pins of various sorts, and linings, facings, braids and the like remain, in whole or in pieces, just as the individual who had charge of the disintegrating process liappcHs to leave them. To rip up a garment, properly there , should lie no pulling, tearing or drag ging apart. If one cannot take the end of the thread and pull it out, the ! stitches should be cut with a sharp II knife. Very few persons can rip a gar ment with scissors without doing it great harm; indeed, many find it im possible to cut stitches with anything without making holes that render the goods absolutely worthless for the one who originally wore it. When it is done the edges are so ragged that a much smaller pattern must lie used. In pre paring goods for the dyer or to be made over, every stitch should be taken.out. It seems scarcely necessary to say that fastenings, braid and hooks and eyes must be removed, but this is imperative, | In view of the condition in which the 1 garments conic to the dressmaker and the dyer. Many dresses, capes and jack ets are perfectly wearable after being carefully ripper, brushed, sponged and J pressed. It is a wonder that some one ; does not set up an establishment, for rip | ping clothes and putting them in order for the dressmaker. The owner of them frequently lias not time to do them properly, or is too careless and under stands too little the requirements of them to do it, had she all the time in the world. Some semi-invalid in every com munity might get a tolerable living, or at least add to a limited income, by pre paring garments for remodeling.—St. Louis Globe-Democrat. PRETTY SPONGE BAG. How to Mako One of TheHO Usoful Ilut li lt 00 in Accessories* Procure some thin waterproof sheet ing. Cut a piece nine inches wide by half a yard long. Make this into a bag by folding it in half and stitching it around the edges with liquid india rub ber, sold for this purpose at any mack intosh shop. Take a piece of linen,white or colored. Cut off a piece nine inches wide by one yard. Trace or iron off a transfer spray on one side, and on the other, with a pencil, write in a bold hand the words: "Sponge Bag." Work this all on in flourishing thread. Now make a narrow liem at each end, fold C (k $ fjM the. material in half and fasten up the sides to the depth of ten inches. Turn right side out and taelc with firm stitches the top of the mackintosh bag to the narrow hems of the linen bag. When the former is pushed down into place in the latter you will have, a four inch frill standing up above the mack intosh. This must be turned in at the ends and sewed up, leaving half an inch open for a drawing string. Make a wising by putting a running from side to side at each of these openings and in sert two pieces of cord, one coming out of each side, so as to florin a double drawing.—Chicago Chronicle. Remains of a Roast Dinner. Remains of a roast of lamb or mutton can be served in a variety of dainty ways. For instance, cut the meat in long, thin slices and lieat them in a but tered baking dish witii wiue, preferably sherry, and a seasoning of salt, pepper and a little mustard. Serve very hot with a garnish of fried tomatoosor of mushrooms and a highly-seasoned to mato sauce. Or the slices muy be well heated and served with a very rich white sauce and fried croutons of bread thick ly spread with anchovy butter. Cold lamb chops are nice if trimmed, spread thickly with a puree of onions, dipped in egg and broad crumbs and fried; then garnished with parsley and served with tomato sauce. Strawberries In Loudon. , The price of strawberries in London- I is now three to eight shillings per | pound. FELINE FAITHFULNESS. I'ierro SacrlUrml Ills L.lfo to Avenge Jeanne's l)uath. Some time ago in a quiet little corner way down 011 the Hue Koyale, I chanced upon a quaint little creole creature whom the neig-hbors call "Moin'zelle." If there was ever any name attached it must have been In prehistoric tames, for now there is not even a sign upon the door of the little bakeshop where Mani'zelle sells bread and cakes to the neighborhood. Very good bread and cakes they arc, too, I can testify, for re cently 1 have found Mam'zeJle's cozy shop a very comfortable resting place after a morning's tramp in quest of news. In this way I have come to bo pretty well acquainted with Mam'zello and Pierre, the cat, and Jeanne, the bird. Pierre is a handsome black and white fellow, with a noble head, and lie and the little canary, Jeanne, were about the same age. Mam'zello told me in her pretty creole patois how devoted tlio two pets were to each other, and I my self saw -frequent evidences of their kindly relationship. In a quiet corner of the little shop I have seen Pierre and Jeanne taking their breakfast together from the same plate, and by and by, w hen the cat would lie dozing in the sunshine, the bird would hop about him or cuddle up snug and comfortable between his outstretched paws. When Mam'zello was busy, so that she could not keep an ej'e on the little bird's safety, she would swing the cage in the doorway, while Pierre would stretch himself on the floor beneath, keeping guard over Ills friend. And woe betide any strange cat that wan dered that way. Pierre was always on the alert for squalls, and if a cat came too near to suit him lie would send Jeanne hustling into her cage while lie chased the offending feline off the street. Just this very thing happened re cently for the thousandth time, prob ably, but for the first time on record, prief followed the move. Pierre and Jeanne were talcing their usual morn ing game in the sunshine of the litttle shop door, when a big brindle stranger appeared on the banquet without. Straight as a die Jeanne was in her cage and Pierre had gone in hot pur suit of the brindle. The cluise was n herd one, and Mam'zelle says Pierre must have been gone a long time, but she was busy serving customers, und by and by noticed Jeanne bopping about the counter. Thinking, of course, that Pierre had returned, she took 110 fur ther notice of the bird. A little later, however, hearing a dreadful commo tion out on the banquet, she ran out to witness the sad little tragedy which I, too, arrived just in time to see, but too late to prevent. Taking advantage of Pierre's pro tracted absence, an ugly tortoise shell from the next block strolled to the lit tbc shop in search of Jeanne. Finding her out hopping about unprotected, he began siege nt once, no doubt. Mam'zelle and I arrived just in time to see the tor toise-shell pounce on ]>oor Jeanne as she sat perched on top of the swing ing cage and bear her with him to the pavement. Before eitlier of us could interpose the deed was done, and then in a moment there came Pierre rushing around the eorner, and as quick as a flash he had taken in the situation. With one fierce bound he sprang upon the tortoise-shell and swept poor Jeanne from his clutches. For a brief moment he sat. guarding her, but that moment was Long enough to tell he was too late. Then, lotting Mam'zelle take the lit tle corpse from under his paw, he swooped down upon the tortoise-shell. It was only for a little vthile, but when the battle was over both cats lay dead on the pavement. Pierre had laid down his life to avenge Jeanne's death, and the little Mam'zelle mourns both her jjets.—Chicago Journal, NO JOKE FOR THE JOKER. When the lloot IH 011 the Other Foot Laughing L'euHcs. The practical joker was sauntering along in the dusk. The inoffensive citi zen was sauntering along in the same dusk, unmindful of the presence of the practical joker. The practical joker, recognizing a friend in the inoffensive citizen, chuckled to himself and quick cued himself to overtake him. The inoffensive citizen was thinking of a story he had read about footpads and wondering whether anyone would ever try to hold him up. The practical joker suddenly tipped the inoffensive citizen's hat over his eyes. The in offensive citizen wheeled instantly and landed a fine, large blow between the practical joker's eyes. The practical joker went down. The inoffensive citi zen promptly sat on him and hit him again. The practical joker yelled: "For heaven's sake don't hit me again, John! Don't you know rac?" The inoffensive citizen said: "Greal Scott!" The practical joker said, in an in jured tone: "Ilang it all, John, it's only a joke." The inoffensive citizen looked at the practical joker, who now had one eye closed, and laughed. The practical joker angrily asserted that it was no laughing matter. "But you said it was a joke," returned the inoffensive citizen, "and I think you are right." And he laughed again. But the practical joker hasn't been able to see the point of it to this day. still, it was unquestionably a good joke.—Tit- Bits. Banana Flo. Slice raw bananas, add butter, sugar, allspice and vinegar or boiled cider or diluted jelly; bake with two crusts. Cold boiled sweet potatoes may be used instead of bnnanus, and are very nice. N. Y. Ledger. Lettuce Sandwiched, Nothing can he more oriap than let tuce sandwiches. Spread buttered slices of bread with salad dressing an 1 place between small lettuce leaves.-- Housekeeper. Proposals la ISoriton. Mr. Beneon Street (Boston) —I pre sume, Miss Tremont, you arc cognizant of the continuation of the symposiums on the interrogatory: "Is Marriage a Failure?" and I beg the privilege of | testing the question with you. j Miss Tremont—Since the only way to | umlerstandingly embark in the disctis : sion is by practical experiment, I will I relinquish my individual freedom and | genealogical cognomen to immolate my identity on the altnr of metaphysical investigation.—N. Y. Weekly. A Literary Preference. "The trouble is," sai l the man with the loud voice and the positive manner, "that women read too many novels nowadays." "Oh, I don't know," replied Mr. Meek ton, as he put his dyspepsia medicine in his vest pocket. "Sometimes I kind o' wish that Maria 'ud take her Ouida an' the Duchess, an* let the cook book alone." —Washington Star. Ho Wouldn't He Popular. If William Shakespeare, matchless bard' Were on the earth to-day, Just lots of men would try real hard To keep out of his way. This statement may seem fetched too far, And out of reason till You think how many men there are Who hate to meet a 15111. -L. A. W. Bulletin. A NEW AMUSEMENT. Horr Old Clerk spends his Sundays walking past the ollice windows. The thought that he is not sluving ut his desk utTords liim inexpressible pleas u re. —Fl iegende Blae tter. His Burden. "Whcro are you going, my pretty maid?" "I'm going a-milklng, sir," she suid. "And may I go too, my pretty maid?' "You may curry the chalk, kind sir," shf said. —Up-To-Dato. Tho Powers That He. lie —I hud such a delightful trip out to California. It- happened that 1 made the acquaintance of the president of the road, who was in the same car, and I wua very well treated. She —What did he do for you; any thing special? lie—Oh, yes, indeed. lie personally introduced mc to the porter.-—Buy City Cliat. The Reason. Helen—l understand that Ethel got her hair bleached in Paris. Agues—Yes, she tried to, but they were unsuccessful. Helen—But I notice that it is white as snow. Agnes—Yea, it turpoj so when she got the bill.—Town Topics, Harold's Compliment. "Harold, our new gill spends all her time talking with agcr.ts." "That comes of her being so good lookiug." "Well, I can't afford to have her frit ter away her time like that." "Then, my dear, why not see those people yourself?"—petroit Fyee Press Horrible. "My pill pavp me the marble heart lost night," said the single man. Your woe !a naught to mine," said the married one. "It has not been two hours since my wife gave mo the mar ble calte of her own making."—lndian apolis Journal. Due Way to Account for It. "Chicago claims an enormous popula tion, but it did not seem to mc to be such n large city." "But, you see, so many of the people out there live double lives."—Town Topics. Happy Woman. Absent-Minded Party—Why, how do you do, Barker. How is your wife? Barker—My wife? Why, my dear doctor, I never married. Ahsent-Minded Party—Really! Con gratulate her for me. —Tit-Bits. A Powerful Mind. P.rown—Jack was noted for his mem ory when he was at col lege* Smith—Was he? Brown—Yes; he carried all the ath letic records in his head.—Brooklvn Life. Her Hrllllant Scheme. "Smart woman, Jones' wife." "Why?" "Found she talked in hey sleepj stud ied awhile, and now she lectures him nil night without disturbing her own slumbers!"—N-. \ T . Weekly. Customs Reversed. "Tho Chinese always break a plate before they take the oath/' "How droll; when we break a plate the oath comes afterward."—Chicago Record. I.lpht on the Subject. "How is it that Watley has so man new suits? He pots a small salary."' "Oh, ho is an eleetriciun, nnd ids clothes are all charged."—Detroit Free I'rcss. Tliey Amuse Eueh Oilier, "What is the basis of friendship be tween Mrs. Dash and Mrs. Hash?" "Each thinks the other is so iiighty." —Chicago Record. Ho Knew Himself. She—Tills road is very steep. Can't I get 11 donkey to take me up? lie bean on me, my (liu'lliicl—Tit- Bits. * . ° COLUMN OF POETRY. The King's Couriers. When the Sun King In his Journeys I.eaves the myrtle und tho vine, And comes rifling bravely northward Through the land of snow and pine O'er the meadows ?wid tho forests How the sunny heralds fly, Brightening the very shadows With \heir shining livery! Up t he valley and the hill tide. And across the spreading plain Swinging, swaying, nodding, playing. Comes the fair and smiling train. There are buttercups and daisies In the fields of early spring, And the cowslip bells of yellow All along the marshes ring, While the marguerites In June time Mid the grasses sbyly peep- Loyal little hearts of sunshine That the snowy petals keep! And the saucy black-eyed Susan Flaunts her fluted yellow frill Down tho river's rippling borders— Up tho crowning of the hUI. Th.on the golder.red comes riding, Doughty guardsman, in the rear. When the king his steps retraces In the waning of the year. How the plumes of yellow, floating, Mingle on the sunny breeze. With the gold and crimson mantles Of the pages' liv< rU St One by one they pass before us, Until all the smiling train, Sweeping slowly to the southward, l'asses from our view again. —Mildred McNeal, In Youth's Companion. Please LET I'B GO and Play. While working at my desk to-day, Striving to put my thoughts In rhyme, I heard my little children say What I oft said in olden time, Before my hair had turned to gray, Before time's wrinkles creased my brow; "Please, mother, do not keep us now, But let us go and play!" Their plaintive voices came to me From the adjoining chamber, where Both wife and children 1 could see When seated on my easy chair. She kissed them tenderly, and they With joyous shouts went to their game. They could not hear my heart exclaim: "Oh, would that we could play!" Oh! God, I pray that Thou wilt leave Their mother here until my boys Can comprehend that they but grieve Themselves when they leave her for toys. Oh! they'll remember when they pray, For their dear mother when she's dead, How often they to her have said: "Please let us go and play!" Aye, In this life from day to day, Unknowingly, wo oft disdain Our blessings and but wish for pain When we scorn sacrifice for play. —Doone F. Lemmy, in Washington Star. A Glorious Fourth. First we bought a lot of rockets, With on extra lot of whizz: Nicn wo emptied out Lur pockets, buying squibs and things that llzz, Serpents, snakes and roman candles With a dozen colored balls, And some blue things on long handles That they called "Niagara Falls." lluif a gross of cannon crackers And a dozen monster bombs— Regular old Barnum whackers, 1* It to use when Gabriel corncs— lluif a hundred double pin-wheels, Showers of sparks In every one. And a set of wheels within wheels. Warranted to dim the sun; Red lights, green lights, blue lights, flashes In profusion and a box, 1 kings that slwly burn to ashes, Tilings that ffame like Martyr Knox— Just tho dandiest miscellany! One no carping crank could scoff At—then, by, George! the night wus rainy, And we couldn't set 'em off. —Somcrville Journal. Independence Day. Bang! Boom! Rattle and sizz! By signs like these we know it Is Dear Independence day! A' smell of powder in tb aln, A small boy present everywhere, Enguged In mimic fray! A trumpet's blare, a drum's loud beat, A quaint procession in the street Of little "minute men!" A cheer, a shout, a proud huzza, And patriot "Young America" Applauds the past again! A bright, bewildering array, Of "goddesses" in ribbons gay, The colors of tho free I A nation's honored Sag full-mast, And In the heart, thank God, a fast, Firm love for Liberty! —Susan M. Best, in N. Y. Independent. An Achievement. ITo was an artist, whose wondrous skill Made many with admiration thrill. For he painted landscapes whose every hue Seemed blended as colors in nature do. His tints aeemed captives from sunset skies And his foliage to shake in the breeze that files; And all who knew him declared his life Would he crowned with fame—all except his wife. And even his wife confessed nt last, Tils abilities ne'er could bo surpassed— 'Twas the day when ho started, with mood Intense, And painted the roof and the back-yard fence. —Washington Star, riarlnda. The winter with its Ice is gone, And fair the spring suns rise; But there's no morning like the dawn In sweet Clarlnda's eyes. And, by God's grace, He finds it sweet To spread His roses at her feet. Fair flows the sap In spring, and fair The flower bends to the bee, And melody Is in the air When that she speaks to mo. And, by God's grace, her red lips rare Tempt me to steal the honey there! Lean, lilies, to her loyal lips, And roses, blush and blow! Tho bee's blood's In her fingertips— That's why they thrill me so! Sing birds, boos, winds, In one sweet tone: Clarlnda is my love—my own! —F. L. Stanton, In Atlanta Constitution. Then and Now. Once I wrote a charming sonnet To my lady Mary's bonnet, And I called It smart and fetching, and 1 called it highest art; And I vowed each time I met her With it on I loved her better. And I ended by affirming that it simply touched my heart. Wo are wed, but Mary's bonnets Never move me now to sonnets; If they did I'd spend in rhyming of my Hfq the greater part. True, her millinery's charming. But tho hills are most alarming. And they touch my pocket deeper than th. bonnets touch my heart. —Mary C. Huntington, in N. Y. Sun. A Happy Jingle. Though pockets grow lighter. Sing tunes that are brighter- Might as well sing as be sighing; There's no use to double The measure of trouble, For time beats the beat bird at flying! The world nnd all in It Warn't made In a minute; Its flowers are blooming and dying; No use to upbraid it; It's Just as God made it, And lime beats the best bird at flying! —Atlanta Constitution. TRIBUNE Chives all the local news in a concise, accurate man lier, and serves it earlier in the week than any other Freeland paper. This is an advantage which every person thinking of sub scribing for a local paper should look to, inasmuch as it costs no more than soi 11 et hill g i nferi or. HOME PAPER One which merits the term in its strictest sense, is not met with in every town. •/ A paper which the oldest and the youngest in the family may read with equal profit and pleasure is what the Tkibuxi aims to be. Subscriptions will be ta ken for any length of time. $1.50 I PER YEAR.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers