Tljo people engaged in the sealing business will kiudly bear iu minil that there is an era of Anglo-Saxou amiability which, ought not to ba dis turbed. An authority states that there are 7,000,000 harmonicas sold annually iu this country. Is it any wonder that some persons look ou a musical taste as a not unmixed evil? Crime costs London more than $7,- £OO,OOO a year, over $0,000,000 of which goes to the Metropolitan police. This amounts to something like $1.50 j per head of London's imputation for their sins. There is something grotesquely curi pus in ttae news that Sir Herbert Kitch ener began recruiting from the captive Dervishes for his army the day after the capture of Omdurwau. Of course, the curiosity lies iu the nature of the ! Dervishes and the fact that such a 1 thing is possible. The fact is that ' many of them are mere soldiers ol for- j tune, who fought for the Khalifa sim ply for hopo of plunder, and are as willing to light for the Queen and the Khedive as for anybody else. Butthe incident is most impressive as show ing Great Britain's policy of making | every country which sho controls do i its own lighting. England furnishes | the generals, but sho enlists Hie Fgyp- . tiaus iu Egypt, the Soudanese in the ! Soudan and the Sikhs and Goorklms in ( India, and adds a few regiments of j British troops, just enough to drill and : encourage them. The four monitors for which con* tracts have been awarded by the Navy Department will be in effect small floating batteries, designed to stick close to our coastwise harbors. They will bo too small—only 225 feet long I I carry sufficient coal for a sea vcy a re, nor is it designed that thov j should at any timo take the places of j any of our warships in offensive oper a ions at a distance from home ports, j Vessels of the monitor class are 1 e- : 1 loved by naval experts to be prac i- ! rally impregnable to hostile attack, I cept by torpedo boats, while they are J capable of meeting in a sea light any- j thing afloat in the shape of a battle- i ship, no matter how large or hew ! heavily armed. As movable auxiliar ies to our elaborate but widely scat tered coast defences the new monitors would bo of great value should our coa•'line ever be menaced by a hos tile squadron. Mr. Kerr, the Secretary of the v'nited States Golf Association, esti mates that there is $50,000,000 now invested in golf in this country, and that the expenditure this year for that sport will not be less than $10,000,000. The money is well spent, in that it makes this country pleasanter for pcr fc :is who are bound to have some sort o: sport, and who will seek it abroad if they cannot find it at home. Bi cycles, trolley cars and golf have worked miracles in the direction of mitigating tho monotony of American life, especially of country or suburban life, and making it attractive to per sons who crave reasonable variety in their existences. They are nil cheap, i and not one of them is nasty. Tlicy are all still extendiug, and it is an odveuturous prophet who would at tempt to predict tho limits of their spread. With iron cheap, and grow ing constantly cheaper, Life predicts that there must be a continuous stretching out of trolley rails along the country roads. The groat waste and damage lo a country's industries involved in a great strike is well shown by some lately published statistics of the losses caused by tho strike of the Welsh miners, which ended recently, states Bradstrcot's. This cost is placed at $30,000,000, or $1,500,000 weekly during the period the strike lasted. If the damage were confined to the mining industry itself this would be bad enough, but tho inter dependence of modern trade and com mercial life made it necessary that a wide circle of industrial workers and enterprises should drink from tho same cup. For instance, it is esti mated that the loss in coal freights aiouo was fully $7,000,000, while the losses of railroads are placed at fully $?,000,000. That the wages of sail rs, tho amounts paid for dock dues and ether fairly measurable items vro heavily reduced goes almost without saying. Tho indirect loss, some of which may never be regained, caused by tho diversion of tlio coal trade to other countries is, of course, incalculable, but tho decided boom given to American export trade in coal to British coloniul ports is of too close a date to be forgotten. Jt has even been stated—though, it is claimod, without adequate foundation —that tho annual autumn maneuvers of the British Channel fleet were post* ooned because of the strike. A S i OUV FOR THANKSGIVING, ■; " ' " : itjjjlfe BY YEIiMA CALDWELL MELVILLE. VER iu the village © m H tho liingsleys were P {' ['■sfijiJ ® called by their J/ /r- n °*Bhl> ol ' B "pe [j J euliar" and we are jpi r JL not disposed to V-f tj contradict them, j f;• . There was tho - l father, mother and three sons, the lat ter all women-haters, or at least worn an-shuuners, for even wheu boys at : the district school, not one of them would play with or in any way notice J a girl. As a family, they were indus | trious, economical and well-to-do. Work, work, work was the order of the day, and save, save, save, was the key-note of their lives. If there was one among them more of a hustler i than the others it was the eldest son, Jack, and if one more than another of the sons was averse to society, it was I Jack. i It was ou Thanksgiving morning | that our story opens, but wo doubt if j i any of the ICiugsleys had given a thought to tho day. In their busy, unsentimental existence there had , beeu no account made of the days that come liko pleasant mile stones along tho way. There was no Thanks | giving cheer, or Christmas gifts; New , Year meant nothing to them but a , change of date, and Easter was only | Sunday, tho day of rest at tho farm house. | If any one could bo said to rise first in a family where all were up betimes, it was this same Jack, whose heavy footfall ofttimes wakened the house. Ou this Thanksgiving morning he was out eveu earlier than usual, for it was . corn-husking time and in oneway and another they had beeu hindered this | particular fall. Stumbling out into j the cold, early light, ho was sur j prised to run against a great willow : basket. "What the nation's this?" ho j growled. Now we would not have you under- I stand that Jack was a particularly ill , natured man; but it is usually true 1 that in families where tho little refine -1 ments and courtesies are omitted, the 1 boys—and sometimes the girls—grow up surly and irritable in manner, : even when, iu reality, there is no an | ger iu their hearts. With tho half-formed thought in | min I that'some neighbor had left it after the family had retired, he lifted tho lid. "Jupiter!" was the one word that escaped his lips, and then he simply staved. But it was not Jupiter or any other celestial body that lay there so snugly in the basket, but a very beautiful terrestrial body—in other words, a beautiful babe smiled up into his face. "Jupiter!" lie said again, and let fall the lid, only to lift it again imme diately. It would have been a study j for an artist—the old brown farm house amid the leafless trees for a background, tho flurry of snow sifted over the porch, the great willow bas ket, from which smiled tho lovely in fant, and the uncouth figure in high boots, overalls, short brown coat and slouch hat bending above it. How long lie might have remained in this pose is uncertain, but the lit tle one's efforts to free her arms aroused him. Once more letting fall the lid ho lifted the basket into the kitchen just as his mother emerged from her room. "What ou airth you got?" she questioned. "Somebody's young Tin left on the door-step." Mrs. Kings-ley wonderingly undid the rich wrappings until tho little arms, unpinioned, were held pleading ly up. What woman could refrain i MM JACK WAS MARCHING ABOUT. from lifting the little creature out and j pressing it to her breast? Even Mrs. j Ivingsley could not, though sho made sure first that Jack's back was turned. Boon the remainder of the family were on the scone, surprised and wonder ing over "Jack's baby," as it was called from the first. There was nothing by which she i could be identified, save a square white card bearing tho one word ' "Fay." At breakfast Mrs. Ivingsley remarked • complainingly: "Now there'll bo a trip clean to John 1 Sweet's." "John Sweet's?" queried Jack, ab sent-mindedly, as he watched his mother feeding milk to the little stranger. "\es, he's the poor commissioner, ain't he?" "What of that?" " 'What of that;' did I ever! Why, you can't git this young one into the poorhouse without seeing him about I ***" A wave of color swept across Jack's sun-burned, unshaved face, but he only replied that ho gueqsed they could board her until Suulay, least ways no one could bo spared from the husking now. 'Nd how d'ye s'poeo I'm to do my work |nd care fer a baby all that lime? Here it's only Thursday." "Sho dou t seem troublesome yit." "No, of course she'll be good while I'm minding her all the time, but wait till I put her by." BeforoJack had been at work two hours he made an excuse to go to the | house. His mother happened to be j out of doors when he entered tho ! kitchen, but thero sat the lovely child in her basket, gleefully pulling the strands of a skein of scarlet yarn. The A SONG OF THANKSCIVING. Thanksgiving for tho men who braved Tho yet scarce furrowed sou, Rather than cringe, with soul enslaved, To kingly tyranny; Who sought upon this virgin sod "Freedom to worship God!" Thanksgiving for tho men who mot Tho stormy brunt of war, Who yielded iifu without regret Lest wrong bo conqueror; For thoso who fought and lived lo see Triumphant liberty! i /' '■ • jtJL SUPPLANTS THE EAGLE FOR ONE DAY ONLY. Thanksgiving that tho olden sears By time uro hid and healed; That iio w our Hag's close-clustering stars HhiiiO"on no gory Held, But year by year a rich iucroaso Springs from tho arts of peace! Thanksgiving for a past that gleans With light so fair to see; Thanksgiving for tho glorious dreams Of triumphs yet to bo; Thanksgiving, all, with ono accord, Unto our father's Lord! , —Clinton Bcollard, in Harper's Weekly. moment she caught sight of him she gave a happy, gurgling laugh,dropped the yarn and held out her arms; but he pretended not to see. When next lie glanced in her direction, the baby's lip was trembling and tears were well ing up into the great dark oyes. He made a step toward her, then paused, looking from his dirty hands and dusty clothes to the dainty gar ments she wore. "I ain't fit," he muttered, but then that look! Once more tho smile came like a burst of sunshine through the clouds and tho dimpled bauds reached out alluringly. "Goo goo!" she said, buthe thought she meant good, and—well, when his mother entered tho room sho was sim ply dumbfounded at the sight that met her gaze. Jack, who had never eveu touched a baby before, was marching about, the , child on his shoulder, one hand fastened iu his rather unkept hair, the other patting his cheek. "Goo, goo!" sho cried louder and louder. "Jack Ivingsley, aro you crazy?" she cried. With a shame-faced ex pression, he turned toward tho basket, but paused half way and turned de fiantly. "No, I ain't crazy, but I'm goin' to keep her." "Goin' to keep her? Mercy on us, you must bo out eu yer head." -"I tell you I ain't, but I'd be 'shamed to put a purty littlo critter like her in the poorhouse. Hain't we got enough, I'd like ter know, to feed one seek kid?" "But who'll take care of her?" The poor fellow looked perplexed, but Fay, at this moment, nestled her head against his neck, cooing content edly, "Da, da, da, da!" "I will, if there's nobody else," ho j answered defiantly; "leastways I can hire a girl." "A girl!" Mrs. Kingsley fairly shrieked, for in all her lifo she had never help in the one day. j And then she poured forth a tirade j of abuse that, could littlo Fay have understood, would have lmrned into 1 her very soul! Happily she could not understand, but Jack did, after a : fashion at least, but the effect was ex actly contrary to what his mother de | sired and his answer showed her her mistake. "It may all be as you think," he snid'slowly; "wedou't know anything about it, but I do know this iiinercent babe ain't to blame 'nd I'll bo blamed if I don't stand for her 'nd fight the hull world, if need be. I ain't fit fer much! the Kiugsleys ain't like other people nohow, 'ndif this here kid ain't respectable it can't make no great odds to us; wo ain't s'ciety folks but all these fine fixens she's got on shows she don't b'longto 110 poor trash round here. There's a mystery about it that I hope we won't never under stand." After this uncommonly long speech, Jack Kingsley put the child in the basket aud went out, liis mother never saying a word. We are inclined to think she was a little alarmed for his mental condition, though. When fclie re covered from the shock a little, she remembered a few other times in his life when Jack had unexpectedly flung out in a similar fashion in defense of an abused animal, and once in the caso of a sick tramp. Sho blamed herself severely for not using more I JACK QUIETLY LIFTED TIIE 111011 CIIAIR TO A PLACE BESIDE IIIS OWN. strategy at tho outset; now the battle was hopelessly lost. Well, he might hire somebody to care for it; she would not and iu five minutes after sho had settled this point she was holding tho object of controversy in her arms and feeding it most tenderly. I hen for tho first time she remem bered that this was Thanksgiving Day. Thanksgiving! And sitting ami rock ing, her mind traveled back to a time when tho day meant much to her; to a time when life was not no narrow, so sordid, when she went to church and enjoyed human companionship. Then she remembered tho first Thanksgiv ing on this farm, when Jack was a sturdy boy of five and the others younger; how she had made a little feast almost out of nothing, but, des pite the homesickness and loneliness, they had been far happier than in the years since when lovo of gain had "eaten them up," spiritually and men tally. With a start she heard tho clock striko eleven. Tho baby was sleeping; could sho manage to get up a Thanksgiving feast in an hour? She had intended to have boiled potatoes, fried salt pork, bread, coffee and sorghum molasses. Ben, her youngest son, was at the barn for something and, yielding to the impulse of the moment, she called to him from tho doorway: "Run me down a chicken, Ben, if you moil folks can get along till one o'clock without yer dinners." "Aye, aye!" said Ben heartily, but when he came in with tho chicken ho looked so inquiring that his mother said: "I plum forgot 'twas Thanks giving," just, as if they ever observed it either inwardly or outwardly. Beu said nothing, but shying a glance at tho sleeping babe went out softly, but was whistling gaily when lie reached j the corn sheds. "Can't havo dinner till the horn blows; reckon that'll be about 0110 o'clock." "What's up?" asked Tom. Tho Kingsleys were not humorous, but an idea did occasionally striko Ben and now he answered severely: "You can't expect mother to take care of a youngun and have meals square up to time." "Hang the youngun!" was Tom's ungiacious reply. "Say, Jack, you better go over to Sweet's this after noon." "If you've auy business at Sweet's go yourself; I haven't any." Even Mr. Kingsley, who was not at all observing, opened his eyes when he entered tho big kitchen, from which most savory odors had already greeted him. Never had the old room looked so inviting before, and no wonder! A toothsome feast ou a table spread with the white cloth and best dishes —only used for company—and a baby form in tho old high chair so long relegated to tho garret. He smiled and laid his rough hand on the littlo head covered with golden red curls. "Whoop-ee!" said Tom, looking ap provingly about. "So all this comes of haviug a girl in the family!" Jack glanced at his mother and then did what no Kingsley was over known to do before without being asked— ' filled the water pails. Ben looked down at himself; then there was another departure. He put ou a clean "wamus" and washed aud combed with unusual care. Everyone had a smile or a pat for tho bright, fearless babe who, they tacitly under stood, was in some way responsible for the good cheer. When ready to sit down, Jack quietly lifted the high chair to a place besides bis own. He meant to take care of her, evidently. And so the new life at the Kingsleys began. Not all in a day did the changes come, but tho truth of the words: "Anda little child shall lead them," was never more thor oughly verified than in this instance. By another Thatiksgiving time a royal feast was spread and the minister and his family invited to partake. Tho house was brightened; eacli member of the family dressed, talked and acted more like "oilier people;" they even sent wood and vegetables to several poor families, ami remembered thut they themselves had cause to give thanks for many blessings, not least among them Jack's baby. The Turkey. For weeks and weeks the ripened corn lie's gobbled by rlie pock; Now on some sad November mozn, Ho gets it in tho neck. CUSTOMS OF THE FEAST. Traditions Should Ite Observed in Serving the Thunksgivliig Dinner. "Under the circumstances it is acU visable that tlio conventional, every day order of your table should be set aside for the Thanksgiving feast," writes Ella Morris Kretschmar in the Woman's Home Companion. "In days wlien servants were rare and un trained, things were not served from the sideboard and side-tables. Be sides, how could you picture a 'board that groans with its wealth of cheer* without the good things in evidence? "The turkey, of course, is placed before the host, also the meat pie; the vegetables, in covered dishes, before the hostess. The cranberries, celery (in low crystal dishes on a napkin), that time-honored abomination, the sour pickles, jellies, etc., may be placed here and there along the board effectively. Sweet pickles may be added; also dishes of fruits and nuts —the two latter to be eaten, of course, with the desert. Hot-house flowers would be an incongruous feature, yet the dainty, tasteful colonial dame doubtless found some decorations for her table. The bright borry-clusters from the box-elder tree would be very effective; also autumn leaves or beauti ful dried grasses, or a tiny sheaf of wheat, oats or rye. 4 , Something will furnish a proper centerpiece; if noth ing better, a high dish or silver basket of handsome apples will answer. All of the above may be on the table when the guests assemble, the soup already served at each place. When the soup plates have been removed the main course begins, which, when removed, gives place to all the remaining items of the menu. MENU. Clam or Oyster Soup. Roast Turkey, Giblot Gravy. Chicken Pie. Polled Hum. Cranberry Sauce. Celery. Mushed Potatoes. Turnips. Squash. Roiled Onions. Bwoct und Sour Pickles. Plum Jelly. Mince Pie. Pumpkin Pie. Pound-cake. Preserves with Cream. Apples. Nuts. Raisins. Coffee. Turkey Tld-Blts. It is a wise turkey that kuows when to diet. A turkey on your own table is worth two in your neighbor's coop. Beauty unadorned—A well-dressed turkey. At Thanksgiving time tho key to the situatiou is turkey. The hand that carves tho turkey is the oue that rules tho roast. Never look a gift turkey iu tho giz zard. Degrees of comparison in the life of a turkey—Positive, gobble; compara tive, gobbler; superlative, gobble it. Tho turkey is a great success as the national bird because it paints itself red simply by gobbling, Don't ask too long a blessiug at the Thanksgiving dinner. Remember that the turkey is not a bird of pray. Tli!inks;jivlng Turkey. Oh, tho turkey's waxing fatter Than ho waxed a moon ago, And ho I'lpous for tho platter In tho dreamy afterglow. While the piglet Bkips a jiglet In the bosom of bis sty. Is the turkey Quito as murky As the chilly, purp'.e sky; For ho knows that ho will very Soon bo going on tho plate, With tho sauce of the cranberry, And the stalling all elate. Oh, tho turkey's full of sorrow, From his wattles to his tall; When he dreams about tho morrow, Every feature's snowy pule. Ob, 'tis shaky As the flaky Tie that lures us on to kill; Aud liis talons Show that gallons Of good stuff would not iinohlu Ail tho thoughts that thrill Ills wishbone, When he dreams the carving knife Soon will plerco him like a fishbone, And wind up his happy life. Oh, tho turkey now is glowing, Ami we wntoh him iu our joy, For wo know we soon are going With his drumsticks for to toy. In our rapture, We will capture All tho dark meat and tho white, And the giblets Of his ntblets Will suffuse us with delight; And we'll say in language rogal, As our linos wo all up gird, That tho turkey beats the eagle As old Freedom's mighty bird! —R. K. Munkittrlck. The Turkey's Age. Miss Autiquato—"This a young turkey! I don't believe you, sir." Butcher—"lt is a young turkey, mum." Miss Antiquate—"Young! Young as compared with what?" Butcher—"The pyramids, er yer own sweet self, mum." An Inexorable Fate. j Ho who reads, and runs away, I Lives to bo eaten "some other day." 8 THE REALM OF FASHION. 8 A Dressy Wulst. | This dressy waist, of fancy figured | green taffeta, is stylishly combined with cream-colored satin and mous seiine de soie. The fronts roll back in pretty pointed lapels from the neck WOMAN'S WAIST. to waist-line, which are faced with the Batin and edged with niching of mous soline. The full front, of mousselino, is arranged over satin in evenly spaced rows of tuokod shirring at the top and blouses prettily at the waist-line. The collar is of cream satin, shaped with stylish points under the ears. The waist is supported by fitted lin vf |, MISSES* ADMIRAL JACKET AND SKIRT. iugs that close in centre front, the full j front dosing under the left revers. The comfort-two-seamed sleeves J have stylish fulness arranged in j gathers at the top, and at the wrists 1 points of the white satin stand out ! fashionably. The wnist may bo part of a costume or made separately to wear with different contrasting skirts. Combinations of material and coloring may be artistically urrauged, and tho waist can bo made in silk, cotton or light woolen fabrics. Velvet made in this way, with revers and front of satin, and decoration of point applique is especially handsome. To make the waist for a woman of medium size will require two yards of forty-four-inch material. A Patriotic Idea. Our glerious victory has been cole- i brated in the fashion world by model- ! ling many of the new season garments J aocording to the patriotic idea, so in j compliment to our heroes on water the ' "Admiral" jacket, shown in [the large illustration, is a favored stylo for misses. Naval blue faced cloth, braid aud brass buttons with anchor design are incorporated in the stylish coat which is correctly fitted with a centre-back i seam, side-back and under arm gores. I The fulness below the waist is laid in coat plaits which are flatly pressed and I finished at the top by buttons, a deep coap lap completing the centre seam. The double-breasted fronts lap widely in reefer style, the neck fitting closely by a short-dart in the centre. Square laps cover pockets that are inserted in the fronts, and the neck is finished by a military looking collar closely fitted and trimmed with braid. Shoulder straps cover the shoulder seams coming forward, brass buttons decorating each end. (These may bo omitted if not desired.) The fashionable two-seamed coat- i sleeves are finished at the wrists by the braid put on to simulate cufl's, and iho slight fulness at top iB collected in gathers, which is the newest style. Jackets in this style are natty and - aud can be made of amy cloak ing fabric or of material to match the skirt. The collar and shoulder straps are sometimes made of red, white, or pale bluo cloth, edged with the braid,which enhances the military effect. The skirt has all the prevailing graduated flounce, that is so fashion able this season, joined to a five-gored upper portion that fits closely the be coming fulness at the back, falling in pretty fold. Serge, cheviot, covert or broad cloth, and other weaves in plain colors or fancy .mixtures are suitable for skirts or whole costumes by the mode. To make the jacket for a miss of fourteen years will require one and one-half yards of fifty-four-inch mate rial. To make the skirt in the medium size will require three and one-half yards of forty-four-inch material. The Hobnon Tie, The Hobson tie is a pretty finishing for the neck of a silk waist or woolen gown with which linen collars are worn. The Hobson tie consists of a sntin strip with a slip-knot of accor dion pleated chiffon worn in front and fastened by a clasp like the four-in hand. Oulorn For l£v<>niti? J>rpmog. Several shades of one color will be worn on evening dresses. A Fuvnrlttf Style For Boys. The Norfolk jacket is a favorite style for boys, and when made in heavy tweeil or cheviot may be wora throughout the whole winter. Brown cheviot is the material here delineated, machine stitching giving the correct | tailor finish. The jacket is shaped by shoulder and under-arm seams, the plaits being folded and applied on l'ront and back. The fronts are re versed at the top to form narrow lapels that meet the rolling collar in notches, bone buttons closing the fronts in center and the belt that is worn at the waist. The two-seamed NORFOLK JACKET. sleeves are of correct tailor cut, ma chine stitching simulating cuffs at the wrists. Knickerbockers are here shown in conjunction with this jacket, but the > regniar knee trousers can be substi tuted. Brown felt sailor hat, brown stockings and shoes completes this 1 stylish suit. A Bright Business Woman. The electric light plant in Long Beach, Cal., is managed by a woman, Mrs. Iva E. Tutt, who is Superin tendent and principal owner as wali*
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers