Horseless vehicles are an aocom*
plislied fact. They are now being
drawn by dogs and reindeer in tiie
Klondike.
And now comes a scientist who as
serts that the human system is full of
microbes and that one is healthy just
so long as one's microbes are in good
health. If that's the ease, it clearly
is a mistake to wage war 011 these lit
tle fellows; better treat them well.
Weylcr lias left Cuba, but tho
memory of his monstrous cruelty will
never disappear from that unhappy
island, exclaims the New York Mail
and Express. He goes back to Spain
red-liandcd with the blood of his help
less victims, with his honor besmirched,
his name reeking with infamy and hi-s
reputation as a soldier forever lost.
His departure is like the vanishing of
a hideous pestilence.
There are over 450,000 miles of rail
way in operation in the world, and, ac
cording to Kobert P. Porter, the cen
tury will close with over 500,000. (If
the present number, just about one
half are iu this country. The cost of
railroads all over the world, thus far,
has been $36,085,000,000, and it is esti
mated that the street railways cost
$2,500,000,000. The railroads employ
almost s,ooo,ooopeople. These are big
figures, but the railroads represent a
vast interest in the world's wealth.
Ordinarily people in Canada do not
take sufficient interest in their poli
tics or politicians to want to kill any
of the latter. Since Thomas D'Arcy
McGee was assassinated, about thirty
years ago, nobody appears to have
cared enough about any Canadian
statesman to expend any powder on
him, Premier Sir Wilfrid Laurier,
therefore, who has just been fired at,
ought to feel complimented. "Happy
man," exclaimed old Dr. Arhuthuot to
n patient dying with a pecular malady,
-''you have revived a disease which
lias been dead six centuries."
Iu the opinion of the Philadelphia
Press expert testimony of all sorts
in our courts has become disgrace
ful. The law in many States has
now recognized the necessity of pay
ing more than the ordinary wit
ness fees to experts, so that there is a
pecuniary recognition of its value.
!The three experts iu the Bnrbieri trial
in New York received from the county
$7250. The fees given experts yearly
in any one of our large cities would
probably pay twice over the annual
salary of permanent experts, but at
present there is nothing permanent
about an expert but his fee.
In his recent address before the
English Church Congress, the Arch
bishop of Canterbury gave some ad
vice to workingmen, speaking as a
workingman himself. Ho had been
left fatherless, he said, at the ago of
thirteen, and had been obliged to earn
his own living since he was seventeen.
Ho had known what it was to do with
out a lire, because he could not afford
it, and to wear patched clothes and
boots. He learned to plow as straight
as furrow as any man in the parish,
and he could thrash as well as any
man. If, he added, the workingman
would practice self-restraint, would
never waste his wages in drink, but
find happiness in the love of home
and family, he would find little of the
burdens of life or of the inequality
which was inevitable.
A French statistician has recently
drawn up a very interesting docu
ment showing in what time certain
frontier towns at various periods could
be reached from Paris. For conven
ient purposes the statistician has
chosen the years 1050, 1782,1831, 1851
*nd 1807. In 1(550 it took live days
to go from Paris to Calais. One hun
dred and thirty-seven years later,
J 782, the duration of the journey had
been reduced to sixty hours. In
1831 it had fullen to twenty-eight
hours, and in 1851 to six hours and
forty minutes. To-day one of the
boat expresses takes three hours and
forty-two minutes. The journey to
Strasburg took 218 hours in 1(150, 108
hours in 1782, ten hours ami forty
minutes in 1854, ami to-ilay a matter
eight hours ami twenty minutes. The
difference for Marseilles is still more
ph euomeual. From fifteen (lays in
1650 the duration of the journey was
reduced to eighty hours in 1834, and
to-day it takes twelve and a half
hours. The distance from Paris to
Bayonne two centuries ago took 388
hours; to-day it occupies eleven hours
and eleven minutes. Brest can he
reached in thirteen hours and thirty
seven minutes, while in 1650 it took
270 hours. Finally for Havre, ninety
seven hours was considered quick
traveling in 1650. It took fifteen
hours in 1782 and seven hours in 1834.
To-day it is a matter of three hours
and fifteen minutes.
DO NOT BORROW TROUBLE.
Only a day at a time. There may never be a to-morrow.
Only a day at a time, and that wo can live. We know
The trouble we cannot bear is only the trouble we borrow.
And the trials that never come are the ones that fret us so.
Only a steji at a time. It may bo the angola bend o'er us
To bear us above the stones that wound our feet by the way.
The step that is hardest of all Is not the oue just before us,
And the path wo dread the most may be smoothed another day.
ON THE SOUTH SIDE.
ill
a \ - ----HEY had been in
V^VaA six room tlats
v&\l< 111/1-1/ siu d n * ne room
\ SSSfe !VVi limV houses, up stairs
l : Pl' \f\ and do w 11,
through block
li/p after bl xk of he
rn Wild e r i n g
¥ ulf niTii streets, in ail
v ' ' ( the dust and
heat of an early spring day; so, when
her aunt stopped in front of another
office, Sara gave a little gasj) of de
spair before resigning herself to the
inevitable. That it was inevitable she
well knew, for Aunt Jane never did
anything by halves, and when she was
house; hunting, allowed 110 real estate
signs to escape her watchful eye.
As they went in, a gray haired man
came forward to meet them with the
businesslike air of courtesy that Sara
had come to consider more provoking
than rudeness. A young man at a desk
in the corner glanced up indifferently,
but continued to look, with a strange
expression 011 his face. Sa a saw him,
and conscious that her cheeks were
reddening, turned abruptly about to
examine the cards on the bulletin
board. That, one quick glance had
brought back the scenes of the pleas
antest summer Sara had ever known—
the summer when Alan Slocum had
spoiled it all by quarreling with her.
How could she ever have been so
careless as not to notice the sign over
tho door? He was probably thinking
at that very moment that her appear
ance there was a matter of her own
conniving. What a long, tiresome
talk her aunt was having with the
senior partner! Sara could catch bits
of sentences here and there, about
furnaces, calcimine, and hardwood, so
she knew they had gone from the ab
stract to the concrete. By the time
she had read the list of houses and
flats four times over, the agent turned
from her aunt to the young man, and
Sara's heart sank as she heard his
words.
"If you have nothing else 011 hand, !
Al," he said, "I wish you'd take these
ladies over to the Kiinbark Avenue
house for mo. I've got to wait for
Brooks."
The young man bowed,, and, picking
np his hat, followed thorn out of the
office. He ignored Sara almost com
pletely, and, walking by her aunt, be
gan to speak of the desirable quali
ties of Woodlawn.
"It is very pretty here," said Aunt
Jane. "I had almost despaired of
finding a house iu so popular a local
ity when my niece discovered your |
sign."
"I didn't discover it," said Sara !
rather hastily. "You spoke of the of- j
fice."
"Well, what difference does it make? '
So much more credit to me," her aunt
said easily. "My sister broke her leg ;
at the last minute, and I am doing her
house hunting for her," she added, 1
turning to the young man at her side. ]
Alan Slocum smiled sympathetically. ,
"It is extremely wearing work," he ;
said pleasantly. "From what part of j
the city did you come, Mrs. "
"Mrs. Harris," replied Aunt Jane.
"From the far north side, and it's going
to cost a small fortune to get them
moved down here, too."
It was something of a relief to get to
the house at last.
"Hard wood in both rooms, you no
tice, Sara," her aunt was saying. "Gas !
grate, bay window, side porch—let's
see the pantry. That turn in the stairs i
will make a good place for the clock,"
she went 011, as sho started on a tour
of inspection of the second floor. "Five
bed rooms. Which will you have,
Sara?"
"The second, I suppose," said Sara
somewhat listlessly. "Mother'll have
the front."
"There's a pretty little balcony out
side of your window, you see," said
Aunt Jane.
"Yes," said Sara slowly. "A cor
dial invitation to strolling burglars."
"I declare, you're the most provok
ing girl I ever saw," lier aunt said
wearily. "After I've come all the way
from Edgewater to select a house for
you, you might, at least, take a little
interest in the one I select."
"I do, Aunt Jane," said Sara, try
ing to speak lightly. "I'm just tired,
I suppose."
"Well, you hurry along and buy the
tickets for home," said Aunt Jane, re
lenting, "and I'll go over to the office
with Mr. "
"Jarvis," said Alan, without wink
ing.
"Jarvis, I'll take the house, subject
to approval, if that is satisfactory."
Sara hurried away and bought lier
tickets for the express to the city, glad
of a few minutes in which to collect
her thoughts. She walked up and
down outside the turnstile and tried
to persuade herself that she wished
Alan Slocum in the moon rather than
on the next street to lier future home.
She gave up trying, however, for she
could not think connectedly, owing to
the shrill cries of a newsboy and the
diabolical whistle of a popcorn stand.
Aunt Jane liove in sight before long,
and they went through the stile to
gether.
"Such a nice young man, that Mr.
Jarvis, Sara," said her aunt. "Did
you notice him?"
"I never heard tho name before,"
§aid Sara, peering up the track in the
wrong direction. "What did you do
about the house?"
•'I thought tho safest thing to do
was to take it," Aunt Jano said. "Mr.
Jarvis said there were three people to
see it this morning and five yesterday,
so I was afraid to wait."
They day they moved it rained—a
cold, disheartening drizzle, that made
Sara exceedingly low spirited and
rather bitter in regard to wet feet aud
spots on her rosewood piano.
There were delays in getting off, for
Aunt Jane had to see that everything
was securely packed, that the movers
were not intoxicated, and that the jan
itor's wife did not forget to clean up
after them; so, by the time Sara's well
nigh distracted mother had been es
corted to the home of a kindly neigh
bor, and Aunt Jane liad gone back for
the fourth time to tell her brother-in
law not to forget the ice box 011 the
last load, Sara felt sure that the slow
est of wagons must have reached the
new home.
The long journey over at last, her
feeblo attempt at rejoicing was sud
denly checked at the sight of the vau
backed up to the curb with the dining
room furniture strewn over the lawu
for conqmuionship.
"Looks like a summer garden," said
Sara, trying to discover whether the
canary was drowned. "Some oue had
sense enough to cover the things, any
way."
A man on the seat stuck something
into a box at his feet and poked his
head around the side.
"We can't git in," lie said in kindly
explanation. "There ain't any key
here."
"We took some o' them things out
first," said a man who was sitting de
jectedly 011 the tailboard, "and then we
couldn't git 'em back again, so we left
'em out."
"Leave the bird with me, Sara,"
said Aunt Jane rather sharply, "aud
go to the office for the key at once."
Sara started off' willingly enough,
though the water was swishing and
squashing in her rubbers, and her
head ached. It was pleasauter to walk
than to stand still—until she remem
bered where she was going, and then
she wished her aunt had sent one of
the men. She felt she could not go
into the office again, and cast about
eagerly for a substitute. Across the
street a small boy was strolling along,
kicking out his left foot at each step
to make a loose sole flap back into
place, aud idly slashing at puddles
with a switch as he passed. Sara
hailed him. For the inducement of a
nickel, tho youth consented to walk
half a block and deliver a message,
and Sara, somewhat relieved, lowered
her umbrella in tho shelter of a
friendly drug store. By the time she
was beginning to wonder what had be
come of him, the boy returned, flapping
liis foot with renewed energy, and,
plautiug himself in front of her, piped
up:
"First thing, I want my nickel!"
Sara was in haste, so forbearing to re
prove him, she paid her debt and de
manded to know the result of the
errand.
"Feller says lie ain't never seen me
before, and he's sorry, but soine one
he knows is got ter come for the key."
Sara's face flushed, and she hesitated
a minute. It was a choice between an
awkward position and 110 home, so
sho chose the lesser evil and made her
way to the office. Alan met her ut the
door.
"I trust you will pardon me,
madam," ho said courteously, "for
making you come out in the rain, but
I believe you sec that I could not think
of giving the key of any house to a
little street gamin."
"The key should have been at the
house," said Sara stiflly. "Our furni
ture is being ruined, so I will be obliged
to you if you will give me the key as
quickly as possible."
"Certainly, at once," said Alan, who
seemed to have difficulty in finding it.
"This is it. If you would like it,
madaiu, I will stop at the house on my
way home to see if there is anything
to he done there."
Sara wondered if she had ever told
him how much she hated to be called
"madam."
"Thank yon," she said coldly. "If
there'is anything else father will come
for it."
Alan opened her umbrella for ber,
anil, with a frigid nod, she started
rapidly for home, trying to think out
some way to explain her delay to the
poor, forlorn lady awaiting her.
Sara's spirits were at low ebb, and
there was no prospect of their rising
again for many a weary day. For two
weeks it rained steadily, the canary
refused to sing, the chimney smoked,
the pipes leaked, the plumbers struck,
and Sara, unable to get away from her
| disturbing Ihoughts, "settled" with
praiseworthy diligence. She had told
1 herself many times before that it was
| easy to forget; but now, with littleelse
I to think of, she found it was only too
j easy to remember. As she put things
! away, or unpacked boxes, she wascon
; scious of trying to soothe a queer,
i constant pain by giving free rein to
her memory. As she laid the sheets
on the linen shelf, she loft with them
the remembrance of boat rides and
tennis games, of drives and of dances;
and when she dropped a dinner plate
on the kitchen floor, it was because
she kxd come in the course of her
thinking, to wonder i/, afte>* all, Alao
was entirely to blame for the trouble
that had sent him back to the city so
soon.
Finally, the sun shone upon the
world again—weakly, to le sure, but
still with enough strength to dry up
some of the puddles on the front steps,
though it failed to bring into Sara's
eyes the light that formerly lurked
there. Like the little girl, Sara had
discovered that her doll was stuffed
with sawdust, and with the egoism of
a pessimist she imagined it was the
only one ever fashioned in that wise.
On the first bright day Mr. Mait
land came home early to take his wife
for a drive, and Sara, declining to
join them, welcomed an opportunity
to be miserable by herself. She wan
dered about the house listlessly for a
time, and then, sitting at her piano,
she wailed out all the sentimental bal
lads in her collection, until she came
to one that Alan had spoiled for her
I by his theatrical rendition of it in his
times of hilarity. She started it, but,
remembering his emotional stagger as
he sang "I go where honor calls me,"
she gave it up, and, bringing both
hands down on the keys with a bang,
cried "Oh, dear!" in a mournful,
homesick wail that betokened the
nearness of tears. Then, hearing a
slight noise behind her, she abruptly
wheeled about on the piano stool and
faced Alan Slocum, with the quick
color flaming in her cheeks.
"I beg your pardon," he said, and
Sara fancied he was trying not to
laugh. "The maid evidently thought
you saw me."
Sara rose. "My father is not at
home," she said distantly. "Is there
anything I can do for you?"
; "At what time will Mr. Maitland re
turn?" Alan asked, looking at his
watch.
"Possibly not for two hours," Sara
replied recklessly. "Will you come
iu and wait?"
Alan raised his eyebrows. "I think
not," he said, quietly. "It is half
past five now. I will leave the lease
with you, if you will be kind enough
to give it to your father when he re
turns."
"Certainly, as soon as ho comes in."
Sara took the formidable-looking docu
ment and bowed him out with a cold
"Good eveuiug, Mr. Jarvis," that
froze poor Alan's boyish spirits.
Whatever he had intended to say was
left unsaid, and he strode away with a
swinging step and his head held high
in the air. If he had looked around
and seen the miserable face watching
him from behind the curtain, he would
have come back; but he didn't.
There were many errands to be done
in town that week, so Sara undertook
them ono bright morning, iu a fren
zied desire to be doing something
rather than to be longer in lonely idle
ness. The express had gone when
she reached the station, so she leisurely
mounted the "local" stairs and strolled
along the platform, looking into the
cars for one where she could be undis
turbed for the next hour. The car
next the smoker held a gay party of
young people intent on an excursion,
and their laughter so jarred on Sara's
loneliness that she quickened her
steps to the second car. Here the
prospect was pleasant, with the excep
tion of three children racing up and
down the aisle, so Sara passed on to
the last car, which she virtually had
to herself. Across the aislo was a
benevolent-looking old • gentlemnu,
and in a side seat a man was so busily
reading a newspaper that she could
see nothing of him save eight fingers
and two long legs.
The train started up by the time
Sara had read over her shopping list
and calculated lier expenses, so she
put the list in her purse again, and
looked up to find that the young man
had folded up his paper and was look
ing at her with the familiar, quizzical
sinilo of Alan Slocum. She looked
out of the window, but the quick color
flamed into her cheeks, and she
wished she had not come. Her atten
tiou was apparently riveted on the
scene before her, but she was fully
aware that Alan had come across to
take the seat facing her, before he
spoke.
"Good morning," he said genially.
"The suu is a pleasant sight again,
isn't it?"
Sara was proud of her presence of
mind as she turned toward him with a
chilly "You have the advantage of
me, sir."
Alan cocked his head on one side.
"Yes," he said, no whit discon
certed, "in being able to sit opposite
you."
The benevolent old gentleman half
rose, aud Sara, in a panic, discovered
that he was intending to champion her
cause.
"Wby, you're Mr. Jarvis, to bo
sure," she said rather hastily. "The
ceiling of the back room leaks."
The old gentleman sat down again.
"Would you like to have me come
and look at it?" Alan asked soberly.
"It does worlds of good to have the
agent come and look at a leak for a
hrif hour or so every day."
oara bit her lip and said nothing.
"Or perhaps you'd rather I'd hire a
substitute," suid Alau, "and stand
across the street until he comes back
—without the leak?"
"Send a sensible man to mend the
roof," said Sara sharply," and it's all
I'll ask—of you."
"I have fibbed, hyperbolized, and
everlastingly perjured myself to get
you iuto Woodlawn," said Alan tragi
cally, "and this is my reward."
Sara refused to smile. "I shall be
obliged to you if you will take your
old seat," she said coldly, "aud that
is all."
Alan's face fell. "I don't know how
you feel about it, Sara," he replied in
a grave, tired voice, "but I'm heartily
sick of this confounded stranger busi
ness, and I want to be—friends again.
Don't you?"
"I said strangers, and it's going to
be strangers," said Sara, with strange
stubbornness, shrugging her shoulders
indifferently.
I "Perhaps if I had not hesitated the
| first summer I met you, I might have
had a show," said Alan deliberately.
"But I'm a slow fellow when I really
care, and I did so tremendously ad
mire you. That slid in
ahead of me and I had! to step out."
Sara clasped and unclasped her purse
nervously, but said nothing.
"The next summer was better," said
Alan, continuing with rather a bitter
smile. "I bad a long vacation, and
you were good to me. You were South
all the winter, and I thought you were
glad to see me—poor fool that I was!
Davenport didn't turn up at all that
year, aud I didn't feel sorry. I was
glad you'd turned him down, because
1 was a heathen, and I didn't know
that even the truest and best of girls
can make a man suffer like the dickens.
I know it now."
Sara's face was very white. She
looked at Alun, though it hurt her to
see the tired look in his eyes, and her
lips trembled.
"Ob, Alan, wby didn't you tell me?'*
she cried, with a little sob in her voice.
"How could I know that you cared?"
"My dear, my dear, how I did care!' 1
he said slowly. "How Ido care still!"
The color came back to Sara's face,
and a queer little smile brought the
light iuto her eyes.
"I am what is accounted a lucky fel
low," Alan said in the same strained
voice. "I have had comforts and pleas
ures and luxuries all my life, and have
not cared for one of them. I would
give them all for that which I want
most and cannot have."
"You're a spoiled child," said Sara
with an odd little laugh. "You cry,
and you don't know what you cry
for."
"I don't want to know any plainer
than I do now," Alan gravely replied.
"It's too confoundedly hard to bear."
"You never asked me what I
thought," said Sara gently. "Hasn't
it entered your head that a gill can
care, sometimes, too?"
The train slowed up for a station
with a great deal of noise and a bustle
of people passing up and down. The
old gentleman rose sleepily and tum
bled out upon the platform. He
passed down, and it was quiet again.
After a time a band of men with mops
and brooms appeared at the door of
the car and began to clear up. The
conductor, coming to a decision after
much hesitancy, stuck his head in at
the other door:
"Handolph Street!" he called. "As
far as we go. All out, please!"— E
mma Lee Walton, in the Puritan.
SCIENTIFIC AND INDUSTRIAL.
Tuberculosis is in England and
Wales the cause of fourteen per cent,
of all male and 13£ of all female
deaths.
Some interesting observations con
cerning the physiological effects of
electric currents have been made by
M. Dubois. He finds that the effect
depends much more upon voltage than
upon intensity.
Lord Kelvin holds that the internal
heat of the earth has nothing to do
with the climates. The earth, he says,
might be of the temperature of white
hot iron two thousaud feet below the
surface, or at the freezing point fifty
feet below, without at all affecting a
climate.
The mean death-rate in Italy—a
mean which takes account of deaths by
malaria, pellagra, and by the chronic
malnutritiDn of so many unfortunate
regions—has sunk in a few years from
twenty-nine per 1000 to below twenty
six. That of Naples, on the other
hand, from 1870 to 1805 shows but in
significant oscillations—from 31.0
to 29.3.
In the French navy it has been found
that the electric search light employed
on men of war injuriously af
fects the eyes of seamen who have to
work about the light, and dark blue
spectacles are supplied to them for
protection. Brown eyes are less af
fected than gray or blue ones, the rea
son suggested being that the former
are more heavily charged with pig
ment.
A corduroy road made of small cedar
trees, which were in a perfect state of
preservation, was unearthed tue other
day thirty-eight feet below the surface
of the earth, seven miles east of Ash
tabula, Ohio. Professor Carl Wright,
teacher of geology in Oberhn College,
who has visited the spot and examined
the wood, gave it as his opinion that
the wood lias been where it was found
since the glacial epoch.
A difficulty encountered in the pre
paration of foundations for the Paris
International Exhibition of 1800 is the
character of tho banks of the Seine, ;
which are formed of stone and earth I
filling, resting on fine saud, easily j
washed out during periods of flood. |
This difficulty is being overcome by a i
new system, devised by M. Louis Dil
iac. Wells about two and one-half
feet in diameter, placed about six feet
between centres, are sunk to varying
depths down to about fifty feet by
means of a special pilo driver, having
a boring weight of conical form and
these wells are filled with lime and
cement concrete, which is rammed
hard by a second weight of different
form.
Shipbuilding in Great Britain.
There are at the present time eighty
seven warships in the course of con
struction in Great Britain, and of thin
naval armament thirty-four ships are
being built for foreign countries.
Nine of the warships are being built
in ltoyal Dock Yards, but the rest,
numbering seventy-eight in all, are
being built by private firms. Twenty
five are torpedo boat destroyers, repre
senting only 8300 tons. Elswiek has
39,737 tons on the stocks, and the Low
Walker Company has 19,530 tons.
The Thames Iron Works Company is
building a large man-of-war, and the
Clyde Bank Company has also another
big ship in hand.
Now Zealand's Idle Women.
| Women are allowed to practice law
in New Zealand. But in a recent let
ter to a London paper mention is
made of tho suicide of a female lawyer
who had waited three years in vain for
t clients, llefereuce is also made to
i thirty-two women who passed examin -
ations as teachers, but were unable to
' get places, as men are preferred for
■ the high schools.
The neconiingiioHg of Fur.
What woman does not know the be
comiuguess of fur on a cold crisp day,
I when the eyes are brightened and the
color of the cheeks heightened by the
j stiff, bracing air? Fur, if selected to
' suit the wearer and worn consistently,
j does more to lend youth and freshness
, to the face and general style than al
most any other accessory of feminine
dress, and the woman of forty-five
I who affects furs to harmonize with her
general coloring of hair, skin and eyes
can take many years from her usual
appearance.—Woman's Home Com-
I panion.
ypf-Ti The Age of Women.
j The common objection among
• womankind to letting their ages be
known is not shared by the women of
I Japan, who actually display their age
in the arrangement of their hair.
Girls from nine to fifteen wear their
hair interlaced with red crape describ
ing a half-circle around the head, the
j forehead being left free with a curl at
! each side. From fifteen to thirty, the
hair is dressed very high on the fore
head, and put up at the back in the
shape of a fan or butterfly, with inter
lacing of silver cord and a decoration
of colored balls. Beyond thirty, a
woman twists her hair around a shell
pin, placed horizontally at tho back of
the head. Widows also designate
themselves and whether or not they
desire to marry again.—Detroit Free
Press.
New Trade For Women.
! A large firm of furniture removers
in London have recently added to
their staff a lady whose special busi
| ness it is to advise n newly removing
hotiseholder concerning the disposi
tion of his belongings.
She takes all the responsibility
about the placing of each chair, table
! and knickkuaok. The householder
simply leaves his house one morning
as usual, and returns at night to his
new dwelling to find all the furniture
in its place, and everything inde
scribably improved and homelike.
The "adviser" has a most refined
taste, and this, added to the knack of
j being able to picture the look of a
room with any possible arrangement of
the contents, enables her to transform
the most unpromising material into
veritable "bowers of ease and de
light."
j Her fee (half-a-gtiinea per room) in
cludes three visits—to the house in
order to view the furniture she is
about to place—to the new residence
j to note the size and disposition of the
! rooms, and a final one to see that her
instructions are being carried out by
the furniture removers.—New York
Journal.
;
Woollen Fobi lex.
Among the woollen materials most
worn this season is woollen poplin,
plain or of various colors mixed, such
as Sevres blue, indigo, navy blue,
; coffee color, beaver, beige, fougere
green, etc.
| Another novelty is that of tissus
| passementerie, which gives tho effect of
j silk ribbons passed through a network
of mohair. Tartan materials are also
| made in mohair in small checks on a
silk ground of the same colors.
I Another kind of meterial is n sort of
; diagonal, in whioh are mixed brilliant
threads, whioh give a lustre to the
•tuff.
| Another tissue is a oloth with a black
! warp and colored weft, blue, red or
brown, which produces a very pretty
changing effect.
j Other materials worn are amazon
. cloth, chine cloth, covert coat cloth
; and whipcord.
| In the way of ornaments, I have seen
, applications of cloth of different colors,
generally shaded, piped, braided and
| embroidered with small steel beads,
j Mohair braids aro also laid on in
I curls, grouped or isolated aud sewn
along one edge or both edges.
J _ Lastly some very pretty embroider
j ies are made resembling lace cut up,
I laid on over a ground of gauze, that
. can be sewn on the material, which
j produces the effect of being embroid
j ered direct on the dress.—New York
Herald.
Owls Now In Favor.
Owls are the latest "trimmings" for
women's hats. From time immemorial
the owl has been known as the bird of
night', shrinking from the glare of
sunshine aud finding the greatest com
fort in dark caves aud the hollows of
old trees, coming forth only at night,
but now, under fashion's latest de
cree, this bird of darkness is in evi
dence on every side, and his broad,
flat fnoe, small eyes and hooked beak
surmount fresh, rosy, youthful faces
and form by contrast a strange frame
for the female faces they adorn.
Daring last summer a few ultra
fashionable women had two or three
great owl heads crushed in among the
wings and ribbons on their traveling
hats, nnd from the very oddity of the
idea the hats were striking and stylish.
Not content with heads, fashion has
now decreed that the whole bird shall
adorn the fall aud winter sailors and
toques.
In spite of the society formed to
prevent the killing of birds for ora
meuting millinery, aud the thousands
of signatures affixed to the numerous
petitions sent broadcast all over the
country, in which women pledge
themselves not to wear birds or
feathers of any kind on their hats, this
is essentially a bird year, and the
favorite of all the feathered tribe is the
owl.
To be strictly fashionable the head,
wings and tail feathers of the birds
must all be used on one hat,and some
times these hats are very expensive.
ftOHfilp.
Miss Grace MoKinley, a niece of
the President, takes leading parts in
dramatic entertainments at Mount
Holyoke College.
There has been a Government in
quiry in Glasgow, Scotland, recently
over the matter of the abuse of tele
phone girls by irate subscribers of the
company.
Mrs. Alice Bradford Wiles, Presi
dent of the Illinois Federation of
Women's Clubs, is a New Englander,
and boasts among her ancestors Mary
Chilton, "the Orphan of Plymouth,"
and John Winslow, her husband.
A New Hampshire woman, Mrs.
Maritta M. Ricker, who is an attorney -
at-law, a politician and Commissioner
and Examiner in Chancery, has an
nounced herself a candidate for Con
gress from the First Congress District
of her State.
French women of fashion are going
in for fur trimmings to the greatest
extremes. In addition to wearing
bands of chinchilla on everything from
ball gowns to tea jackets, some of them
have the tops of their boots ornament
ed with a circlet of fur.
Mrs. Murfee, of Meridian, Miss.,
Vice-President of tho United Daugh
ters of the Confederacy of that State,
is seeking the assistance of the Mis
souri Daughters of the Confederacy in
the project to purchase the old homo
of Jefferson Davis at Beau voir.
Miss De la Ramee, known to fame
as "Ouida," is eccentric in dress. She
favors light colors, quite out of har
mony with her age and appearance
generally. Her face is not innocent
of powder aud her hair is arranged in
a curly mass, with ribbon on it.
When Professor Vircliow, of Ber
lin, was in Russia a few weeks ago a
deputation pf women physicians visit
ed him and thanked him for having
thrown open his lecture room and
laboratory to a Russian woman when
the German universities did not ad
mit female students.
Lola M. Coulter, a fourteen-year
old girl, of Stockton, Cal., is an en
gineer, and knows how to handle the
throttle as well as a man. She has
made trips over some of the most diffi
cult grades and curves in the West
and has proved that she has a steady
nerve and a keen eye.
A professional woman who has to
employ a young woman assistant says
that one of her greatest troubles is
that her assistants are constantly try
ing to impress not only upon her, but
upon her patients, that they are not
accustomed to such employment, but
have been brought up to better things,
though she is well aware of the fact
that the young women have come from,
homes where there was neither culture
nor money.
T.atcat Fashion Novelties.
Small back and bip bustles.
Black Cbantilly laco flouncing.
Long, thin silk scarfs for the neck.
Soft tones of green in suede gloves.
Plaid and fancy hosiery in brilliant
array.
Net by the yard crossed with braid
for vests.
Long ulsters of plain oloth with fnr
finishing.
Shirts having but two seams, back
and front.
Bussian blouses and shirt waists ol
velveteen.
Corduroy costumes trimmed with
jet aud fur.
Cloth costumes made up with plaid
accessories.
Fur coats showing a loose front nnd
belted back.
Fancy muff's and collars in two con
trasting furs.
Collars of silk with a gauze ruche
and cravat bow.
Vicuna oloths in black and colors
for tailored suits.
Plaitings of shaded silk for puff ef
fects on large hats.
Plaitings of narrow ribbon or silk
for dress trimmings.
Tailor suits of rough black goods
trimmed with braid.
Glass lamp shades in trauslucent
and enameled effects.
Girls' plaid frocks made with the
blocks bias or straight.
Short petticoats of crepon trimmed
with lace or silk embroidery.
Suits showing sleeves, belt and yoke
of velvet and blouse and skirt of cloth,
moire velour or drap d'ete.
The Cherokee form of marriage is
perhaps the simplest of any. The
man and woman merely join hands
over a running stream, emblematic
of the wish that their future lives
zhould flow on in th——vne channel.