Freeianri Tribune Established ISSB. PUBLISHED EVERY MONDAY AND THURSDAY, BY TUB rRIBUNE PRINTING COMPANY. Limited | OIVICB: MAIN STREET ABOVE CENTRE. I FiIEELAND. I'A. SCLL-L HirxioN KATES; One Year $1.50 Hix Months 75 ' Four Months 50 Two Mouths .25 | The date which the subscription is paid to is on tno address label of each paper, the | change of which to a subsequent date be- j domes a receipt for remittance. Keep the i figures in advance of the present date. He- j port promptly to ibis office whenever paper la not received. Arrearages must be paid when subscription is discontinued. Ma'>eall mon-y orders, hecks, etc.,pnyabU io the Tribune Priniir.j Company, Limited. The cheese trust has raised the price of Li in burger one cent a pound. "Whew! _______ Switzerland is said to bo the only civilized country iu the world which ( grants no patents for inventions. If kissing proves to bo illegal in Connecticut there will be a lot of sly lawbreaking or a big exodus from the Nutmeg State. It may be true that there are some '.--ycliug diseases, but it is equally true that there would be more diseases if there were no 'cycles. A number of Boston amateur bandits have stolen tifty sticks of dynamite from a contractor and. it is supposed, hidden them in some cellar or cave. Vtostou people who are waiting for mimothiug to turn up may hear of it any day now. Sir Henry Irving makes a good point in, the Ladies' Home Journal. "Through a study of Shakespeare," 1.4 says, "the taste of the nation will beioit, the language will become more exact without losiug its elas ticity, aud the priceless heritage of our English tongue will be preserved to the world in its purity." The "something that must be done" %AJ save our birds from the women who keep on demanding them for their hats is to prohibit, not the shooting, but the trade iu them. If dead birds were forbidden articles of traffic in the towns, the crack of the gun would not be often heard in the country. Several species of our song birds are in danger of extinction. It is time to stop the slaughter In 1880 a law was passed iu Ger many whicli made it compulsory for every German with an income of 87.70 or more to insure himself against sickness and death. In IS9B there were 11,200,000 persons in Germany thus insured, aud so many of these had pulmonary consumption that thirty-seven of the insurance com panies erected at their own expense a sanitarium for the care of these per sons. The monster ocean steamers now coming into vogue have abolished sea sickness. Of the two thousand pas sengers who came over on the maiden trip of the White Star liner Oceanic, not oue succumbed to mal de mer. The Oceanic is so long that she reaches from wave to wave, cutting through them instead of following their upward and downward curves The vibration on board is no more than that of a railroad train. The big ship had au excellent test on the voyage mentioned, as it was storrny all the way. The world is becoming so small and . intercommunication so easy that one I who expects to trade is seriously handi capped if his mother tongue constitute 1 his sole linguistic capital. The inter- ! est taken in education by commercial | bodies nowadays is significant. Time | was when it was thought that only ' members of the so-called learned pro- j fusions—loctors, lawyers and minis- j ters —needed liberal literary endow ments. It was a'rare thing to meet a merchant or a manufacturer who was thoroughly familiar with the text books. It is different now. The edu cated merchant is the rule and not the exception, especially in large cities. Baying Blr<l to Tree Them. Miss Marie Dalroyde, the London actress, who recently inherited a large fortune, created a sensation on a thoroughfare of that city recently. While passing a stall where a bird dealer had a large stock of wild birds in cages she purchased a dozen lin nets, opened the doors of their cages and let them fly away. Finding she had not money enough in her purse to procure freedom for all the warblers she returned home for more, and revis iting the man purchased and liberated every wild bird In his stock. An im mense crowd of people gathered and many of theni warmly commended her kindly act.—New York Mail and Ex press. MY LITTLE SWEETHEART. My little sweetheart of long ago! I see her eyes uiid her wiud-tossed hatr. And the long, long way that we used to go Ou foot to school when the day wua fulr, The morniug sun on our faces shone, j And the world before us was all our own. We crossed the bridge at the end of the Beyond the hedges the meadow lav; We could look across where the sky came down To the ends of the earth, and far away— Aud we thought, for the distance seemed so fair. That surely the gate of Heaven was there! We passed through the quiet woodland doll, Where the great trees met iu an arching screen. And the glittering, waving sunbeams fell. Like golden harro vs.thu boughs between. Lighting the moss where the win d-llowers shook. And the viol-1 sloj t n hor velvet nook. Always new was that morning walk; Ho much to think, aud so much to say. How full of wis lotu our grave, sweet talk. What treasures we fouud along the way I Mid all the wealth iu the haunts of tnen, Nothing so rare have we fouud siuco then! A tiny nest, where the eggs were live— An empty nest, by the pathway's edge; The myriad creatures that toil and thrive In mossy crevice aud nook and ledge Ant, and spider, aud wood-mouse shy, Butterfly, moth, aud drugon-tly! My little sweetheart of long ago! Though school was ended, and life's sad page Has taught us more .than we care to know, Have we wiser grown'/ Are we quite us sage As we were in that far, sweet dreamlund, where We walked to school when the days were iair? —Youth's Companion. I CUPID ... | Z -IN A- J I . . CYCLONE:! 0 * Vlasta looked wistfully out of her Bmnll-paued window, deep-set in the heavy sod wall, and sighed. The piles of unwashed dinner dishes over woich she wan at work hardly ac counted for that sigh aud the view without was pleasant, rather than otherwise. It was a Sunday afternoon in the late June, hot and unusually still for thut windy country, but the rolling stretches of prairie grass and the green tields of young wheat and corn still held the freshness of early spring. But the cloud "no larger thau a man's hand, "is always present in some form or other. One was at that moment rising lazily ou the western horizon, over the low, green hills, just a faint sum mer cloud, unseen by the girl, whose eyes were fixed on a nearer and, to her, much more attractive object. This, as is apt to bo the case when maidens sigh, was a young man, who, on the other side of a barbed-wire fence, some little distance away, was busily engaged in washing his buggy, which was rolled iu front of his own little sod house. He was of middle size, dark-haired and featured, like herself, aud clad iu the careless costume of overalls and jacket of blue denim, and clingy from exposure to sun and weather, and the battered sombrero of light felt, which were usual iu his everyday occupation of farming. As any one familiar with that part of the country could tell at a glance, they were young Bohemians,members of that great army of hardy settlers who have made hom. i s for themselves in the previously untitled west. But hearts will be hearts in every place and Juliet may pine lor her Borneo in ancient castle no more than in humble sod house, as did this com mouplace little heroine, with her plain but kindly lace. Now,by custom immemorial Sunday is the rural holiday everywhere and it is esj ecially so among our foreign born citizens, who on that day sally forth, clad in their best, ready for visiting and merry-making and seeing no incongruity between church and mass in the morning and a dance in the afternoon ami evening. So, considering this, it seemed that the young settler, Alb edit Hollub, should be on pleasure bent, aud the signs indicated to that so lie was, or soon should be. Herein lay the sting which changed for her the sunshine of that glorious June day to gloom, j For Albrecht was "going riding" in his uew buggy—going without her, | and, no duunt. with some other gil l ' when it really was her place on that | seat beside him. 1 And had she not proudly occupied i it until that unlucky night not yet two I weeks ago,but seeming half a lifetime, | as a girl's short lifetime goes? Such a little thing, too, as is gener 'ally the case, to have caused all thin j trouble. She was not sure how Albrecht felt. Perhaps he was glad to get rid of her—here two great tears dropped into the dish pan at the thought. Just a dance at a young friend's wedding—-it being their cus tom for a bridal paitv to go to a justice or country judge to have the ceremony | performed, and thou to return to the ■ bride's home for a grand ce ebratiou, I which usually lasted all night. Then a foolish quarrel, when Albrecht, heated up by excitement and beer, hail insisted that she d-mccd too often with the bride's elder brother. Sho had refused to listen to him,of course, with the result that he ha 1 walked out into the darkness aud had never seen her since. Perhaps she had sought covertly, anil, no doubt, awkwardly, to find au opportunity of making amends, but ho had ignored or avoided her,though they lived ou adjacent claims; hence, for her, at least, bitter days aud nights. She felt vaguely, in lier sim ple fashion, the hardness of the woman's code which bids her "wait anil weep ' in silence, a rule that has broken many besides country hearts like liers. A*J all Ibis time tbo cloud ill the west was rising. It looked much like a puff of black smoke now, I and there were others, not so dark, j climbing up lesideit. The dishes were finished and put away in the kitchen "safe," or cup board, ami the girl sat down by her wiudow—she was very fond of that window in those days —and gazjd ab- j seully out. The landscape was left j desolate to her, for Albre lit hud dis- j appeared, probably to attire himself I for his outing. Her father nodded in the shady doorway over his long, curved pipe. In the inner room her mother dis coursed volubly to her second daugh ter iu her native tongue, which is never fo: gotten by the "old people," at least. The shouts of the numerous younger child' eu came from without, where they romped among the farm wagons and uiarhiuery,and the horses and cattle grazed eontoutedly on the fence l-iu praii ie that formed the pas ture. It was all homely,but pea eful, and presently the girl's eves, heavy with unaccustomed vigils, closed, ftlie did not see the cloud rapidly swelling and taking on the ominous shape , di ended by the prairie dwellers, the; so-called funnel form, which in this ■ easy was a much flattened one. It seemed but a few minutes later ! when Vlasta roused abruptly in dazed j bewilderment. A distant shout, one of alarm and warning, seemed echo ing in her ear. How dark it had grown. I And there were Albrecht and his little old mother, who kept his house,stand-1 ing before their door, exclaiming and gesticulating wildly. At the same mo ment there came a rush of furious I wind, bringing the sound of a low, menacing roar, while the mass of dusky green cloud seemed to quit the ! horizou and start swiftly on au earth ward path. Vlasta guessed instantly the peril that threatened, and sprang up with a terrified cry. "My father, mother, quick! The cyclone! The cyclone!" Then followed wild confusiou, j screaming children running to their parents, frauiio exclamations, bustle and hurry. Whither should t hey fly for refuge j in that hour of terr or? It was the good mother that solved the problem with prompt presence of miud. "The henhouse, children! Let us run to the henhouse!'' she cried, aud she crowded her stout self aud her best feather bed, brought from the fatherland, valiantly through the nar row doorway,followed by her husband carrying his pipe and armchair, and : by the others with whatever they | chanced to catch up,all racing through the thick whirling dust to the desig nated place of lefuge. In fact, it was the most suitable one within their reach, being really a low "dug-out" in the side of a small hill, j the front or open side facing south j and tilled iu with a sod wall, contain- i ing only a small, rough door and u tiny window, whose four small panes were thickly coated with dust. In they rushed pell mell, causing wild discomfort to the usual occupants or this abode, which flew fluttering and cackling wildly from their rude nests and perches. The father was in the act of ilosiug the door after the last one was in, when it was pushed violently o[ en from without, and j Albrecht and his mother,lacking such i a shelter of their own, flung them 1 selves among them. Then Hie door, like that of the ark, was shut and braced by the father's stout shoulder. And none to soon,for the air was thick with flying de! ria. There weie twelve of them—more souls than the nrk carried, and crowd ed into a much smaller space, but that mattered little at such a time. the fowl screamed, the children wailed,the big mother aud little mother rooked and prayed iu en h other's arms, and the father bemoa n ed his farm a d sto k; but as for Vlasta, the cyclone had given her what the fates had otherwise denied, and the uproar and danger were all dominated by the joy that Albrecht was again beside her, so c'ose that she < ould almost lcel his deep, hurried breathing. It was lut a moment,aud then,with a deafening roar, a rush of darkness, a choking breath of sulphur, the s'oriu centre was upon them. Vlasta remembered not how it. hap pened. but when she was able to real ize anything her arms were around Albrecht's lie k and he was holdiug ho-to hun and murrnuriug words of endearment, which she felt rather than heard. "My love, my little one "—though she was as tall as he 'Mo not fear. I will keep thee safe— I, thine own beloved." Vlasta'* pet white pullet fluttered on their shoulders like the white wiuged dove of peace. The storm went swiftly oil its resistless way, leaving desolation bellied. Their houses were in ruins; their little possessions torn to pieces or scattered far u id wide, even a large part of the growing c ops rooted up or ground into the soil. But their lives were spared, aud they are hardy and courageous. Sod houses can soon rise a-rain. and other croj s grow green on sunlit plains,and befo e long in the new home there will be ••sounds of revelry by night" au I another merry wedding dance. Famous Landmark Sold. The old Hetirv house, one of the famous revolutionary mansions of Getmautown, standing at Germantowu avenue and Fisher's lane, has been sold. The house was erected in 17J5 by John Gottfried Waschsmud, and VMS sold to John Suowden Henry. Di rectly opposite on ground formerly belonging to the Henry homestead is the Hood cemetery, where were laid the bodies of General Aguexv and Colonel Bird, both of whom died from wounds received at the battle of Gar uiautown.—Philadelphia He ord. [ CHILDREN'S COLUMN- \ Three Wliihes. It was down at the orphan asylvra, one day That three little maids sat r- und the Are, Each teliing the thing *he wished for most, If she only could have her heart's desire. "I'd like a pony as white as snow," fcaiil Maud, "aud I'd ride it each day, of And the people would stop as I rode along, And say, 'Look at that child on the snow while liotse.' " Baid Alice, "I'd 'ike to own a ship; Aud I'd sail clear round the world,l guess Ami bring UHCK a present for all the girls, And A beautiful crutch for dear little Bess." Then little lame Bess, with her gentle voice. Said,looking around from one to the other, •Til wish for the loveliest thing iu the world, That every one of us might have a mother." —Little Folks. Monkey Adopts a Kitten. One of the most unique sights of Juneuu, Alaska, aud a source of never failing interest to tourists who visit that place, is the tender care of Miss Jocko, said to be the only monkey in Alaska, for a little foundling kitten. Miss Jocko belongs to Terry Colin, who a short time ago placed a kitten in charge of the monkey. Hhe at once literally took the foundling to her breast and cared for it with all the sympathy and tenderness peculiar to the quadraiuana. When strangers came near Miss Jo ko showed her dis pleasure by continuous chattering, and her anxiety was betrayed by the nervous way in which she folded her charge iu her arin9. The only time she would consent to releasing the kitty was wheu her master sot out a saucer of milk for it. The cat got 011 famously and became large and fat, but one unlucky day some one stole it. Miss Jocko wus disconsolate beyond words and re fused to be comforted until about the middle of last mouth, when a little girl present d her with a tiny kitten. Previously the monkey had re jected other kittens, after losing her first ward, but this one she took to her heart. Carefully she looks aft if its every want, washes its face, kiss s it at appropriate intervals and at all times keeps it immaculately free of dirt. At night the mother monkey takes her feline child and puts it carefully to sleep iu a dry goods box, never failing to cover the kitten with a piece of blanket. A tew days ago Miss Jocko un hooked her chain and sought refuge from the crowd by climbing to the top of a porch, never for a moment letting go of her baby. Hhe folded the little one iu her right arm, squeezing it until it mewed, then scampered up a post to a place of safety, from which Mr. Colin finally dislodged her. To effect this result he was obliged to climb to the second story,open u win dow and step out upon the porch. Miss Jocko quickly folded the baby iu her arms aud descended. Miss Jocko has been a resident of Juneau for less than a year. Hhe is a South American monkey and ap parently is thriving in her* adopted home north of the fifty-eighth parallel. The Crippled Itoy. The children were begging for a promised story, so Aunt Hetty said she would tell them about Phil, the cripple. "Think of it, childreu," she said. "He crept 011 his hands and knees like a baby for ten long years." "How dreadful!" they all exclaimed. "Couldn't he play ut all, as I do?" said ten-year old Fred, "nor play ball nor wade in the brook, nor go up to the farm for eggs, nor go to school?" "No, Fred, lie never walked until he was as old as you are, so of course 110 could do none of those tilings, Phil was one of the most patient and best boys that ever lived,always pleas ant and helpful. Alter he was ten years old begot better, so that he could walk on crutches; then he went to school. "In about two years he got so much better that he could walk with only one crutch. Then he could play ball. Although quite lame, lie could run al most as fast as uuy of his school fel lows. "Passersby often stopped to watch him play ball, thinking it so curious to see a boy who had to use a crutch tukiug part iu the game. "Phil would bear all his little trials with so much patience that I used to wonder if it was natural, or if pain and suffering had made him so endur ing. When he was twelve years old, he was going to school one cloudy movu.ng. It was threatening to rain, just such a morning as teachers dread, for they know the children will be cross. "These boys were no exception to the cloudy day rule, but they were particularly cross this morning, as they had arranged for a basebal' match to take place at noon, and it lookeil as if it were going to rain and spoil it all. When they saw Phil coming oue of them called out: Teg leg! There comes Pegleg!' At this all the boys laughed, and cried; 'l'eg leg! Pegleg! "Ho was coming along, looking bright and eh erful as usual, but as souu as he heard those hateful words he began to walk slower aud slower. "Mary, u little girl of seven, the pet of the school, notic iug hint, left her play and ran to meet him. Comiug up to him, he put her hand iu his, aud said, 4 1 like you.' He after wards said those were the sweetest words he ever heard. "He looked happier iu a moment, although the boys still kept calling 'Pegleg!' The teacher, hearing them, I said, 'Boys, will you come here a mo | uientf They aine immediately. " *Boys, do you know Phil has only walked two years in his whole lif,liai always had to creep, and has never played a game of ball in his life until this term!' " 'No,' came slowly aud solemnly from the boys. •• 'He never went to school until he was ten years old, as he could not walk before tbav. You may go now, boys: that will do.' "The boys went 1 ackto their game, and iu a moment the teacher was g ati tiett to hear, 'Come on, Phil,play with us, and you may be captain.' "He went with a will, and the boys were always careful never again to hurt l his feelings."—Trenton (N. J.) Amer ican. A I.ittln Cyclone. Bertram was horn and had spent all his life 011 a Kansas prairie. He had never watched the waves rolling in from the 01 ean, nor picked up shells along the shore, nor dug wells in the sandy beach. He had never listeued to the wind as it sighs gently through the tops of the pine-trees. Indeed, | he had never seen any real woods at all, nor any high hills; and he knew nothing about great rocks that are so nice to climb upon and that make such lovely caves to hide oneself under. But he knew all about how the meu on the plains ride over the range to bring the cattle together iu a spring "round-up." He had ofteu played at "throwing a rope" to las o the stalks of the tall sunflowers that bloom so thickly over the Western plains. He had seen groat tires ushiug madly through the dry prairie-grass. He had e\eu seen half a dozen tires at a I time far oil' ou the great round line in which the wide sky shuts itself down over the wide earth. He also knew how hard the wind could blow across the great open] plains. When the spriug winds came l blowing all the way Irom the Gulf of i Mexico or the Polar ocean, Bertram] used to watch the great round "tumble 1 weeds" as they lolled rapidly along 1 I faster thau a horse could gallop. Sometimes wheu the wind grew fiercer than usual, .it brought a thick cloud of dust to choke the breath and blind the sight. Then Bertram would run j into the house as fast as his legs could carry him, aud shut his eyes, almost fearing that the little house would be ; lifted from its foundations and shaken : to pie. es by the fierce wind of the prairie. ' When Bertram was five years old his mother took him to New England to visit his grandmother and some cousins that he had never seen. Bertram thought the rooms in his grandmother's house were very large | —large enough for houses, he said. He was never tired of running up aud down the stairs, because he hud never belore lived in a houso where there were any stairways to be climbed. One day Bertram's un le brought home fro.ii the city a large box, and told Bertram and his little cousin Frank that this contained something which they would like to see. When they opened the box they found in it—a toy village. There was a church with a steeple, apostolfic *, ai school house, a store and some smaller houses. There were a good many ! little tiees to shade the village, and a number of little meu and women to walk about its streets. There was also a depot and a train of cats to bring people to and from the town. Both of the children were delighted. They took the little things out of the box and looked at them one by oue. Thou they began to build the town. Frank had oiten been to the city with his father, and thought that he! knew all at out how a town should be built. He did not think that Bertram knew much about towns. Ho it hap pened that almost all the things that Bertram set up Frank would soon change to another place. Bertram soon began to feel that it was all Frank's town, aud that he was being left out of the play. Ho looked very sober for a few miuutes. He stopped working aud watched the little town us it grew up under Flank's busy fingers. But he was all the time thinking, how he could have a share in the play himself. At last a new thought came to him. The town was just finished, with all the trees and houses set up in beauti ful order,and the* li.tle men and wom en waiting quietly around the streets. Then Bertram cried out, "Here comes u cyclone!" and filling his little lungs with air, he blew out a great wind of breath. In two seconds half of the town lay in a heap, with the frigliteued little men and women buried under the overturned houses. Frank looked up,feeling half angry. But Bertram's e:es were .shining, lie was not cross or naughty; he only wanted to have a part in the play. Frank's eyes began to shiue, too. This was a new kind of fun. Ho he said, "That was a blizzard, sure enough! Now all the men will have to go to work and I uild the town over again." Then with a good laugh both of the boys set to work with a will, and soon the town was built up again as good as ever. When it was finished the second time, Fiauk ran to his graudmother and whispered something in her ear. Grandmamma smiled, went up to the att'c, and brought down an old pair of bellows that used to blow up the fires in the great kitchen chimney a hun dred years ago. Bertram now looked on with great curiosity while Frank took the bel lows, and made a wind that blew sev eral of the little meu und women half way across the dining room carpet. After this, wheuever Frank and Ber tram set up the toy village, the very best part of the plav was the time when the cyclone came, and trees and houses aud men and women tumbled dowu together iu a heap of ruins.— , Youth's Companion. m YORK mmm S " - • 5® P Designs For Costumes That Have Be- | j come Popular in the Metropolis. NEW YORK CITY (Special).—There has never been a season when so many B lmraer gowns, or rather the style of gDwns associated with the summer HOUSE GOWN OF FRENCn FLANNEL, TRIMMED WITH VELVET RIBBON. season, have been made up for winter \\ ear, declares Harper's Hazar. The light silks are to be used all through winter—of course not for street wear—while some heavy silks, satins, crepons, are trimmed with white lace, and have quite as light and airy an effect as though they were intended to wear iu July and August. For street wear, black and brown—a warm shade of brown —are considered especially WONDERFUL IN CUT AN : 7 fashionable colors. The most stylish house gowns are made of French flan nel. But never before at this time of i year have so many light grays aud tan ( cloths been made up. Indeed, all the styles of dress this year are on a most elaborate aud expensive scale, aud it requires considerable thought and in genuity for the woman with a moder ate income to dross according to the latest fashion dictates. Fortunately there are a good many styles in every sort of gown, whether for street or house, that are attractive aud quite inconspicuous, and these are the best to choose from where economy lias to be considered,while in the black gown the different methods of trimming work a transformation in the too som bre and workaday look that a eheap black gown so often possesses. Wnlntß Wonderful In Cut. Truly wonderful are the designs, both of fabric aud cut, of the new evening waists which made their first appearance at the Horse Show. Two of the most notable examples are shown in the large engraving. Al though much of the material from which they are made comes from the factories of the old world aud some of the garments fashioned are upon Freuch models, yet there are many exceedingly handsome one* made here. As modish as auy are those made of satin, but not of a heavy variety, and thus the fulness of a waist is allowed to tit gracefully on the flgnre. This is tucked, straight, in squares, in diamonds, or hemstitched and drawn. One of the now embroidered styles is made in white mauve and cream. The embroidery is open and loose, and through it. is shown a 'ining of c'.oth of gold. The style of this waist is really a blouse, but is open at the front and tilled in with knots of rnous seline de soie or chiffon. The collars are bands of crushed silk, and the re markable little jeweled buttons which shine through the filmy ruches of chiffon which edge "all things" add not a little to the general effect. Mauve and other delicate shades of lilac are much used. Into these waists are inserted yokes or vests, often collars of a plain oon- ; trasting shade or * bite, with Persian ! > colors in fantastic ligures. A new ] shade of blue which is light, but not a baby blue, is another material which is seen in a smart waist. Not the least fascinating are the ex quisite bloiißes of guipure lace. These are made entire, without lining, and made to slip over any solid lining. One illustration shows a new style of silk which comes in one piece—a skirt-length, it is called. This has an applique of mousseline de soie which is embroidered in neutral shades and a set pattern. The silk differs from the material usually employed in waists, inasmuch as it is soft and thin, almost transparent. Simple Shlrt-wtkUt Model. The Czarina shirt-waist, notwith standing its title, is a simple model that is suitable for making up almost any pretty fabric, but a particularly taking one included iu the handsome trousseau of an autumn bride is made of amethyst velvet and heliotrope silk. It is formed with a deep yoke at the back. There is a wide plait down the front, where the waist fastens with pearl aud amethyst studs. The back of the waist is very closely fitted, the sleeves close coat shapes, with velvet cuffs, and the fronts droop a little at the belt. Plain Setting For Kmeralds. Most people consider emeralds must be surrounded with diamonds to bring out their beauty, but a big square emerald owned by ouo woman who is fond of the rich, green stones is iu a a perfectly plain setting, square cut, as emeralds are, and is beautiful iu its soft velvety richness. How tlie lint* A rn Worn. Ilats are worn in Paris aud New York very far forward of the face. | The now style of arranging the ] coiffure which brings it high up in the , buck means that the hat shall be worn over a full roll in frout, not pompa dour, hut a soft arraugement in which the hair extends very widely at the sides. The hat itself extends far over the face, that is not down, but up ward at least from tlireo to four inche9 beyond the lines of the face, that is to say the new pointed, round Uats, toqvos and other stylo 9 which are beiug shown. The turban must be poised suffi ciently high, and though the hair is being parted aud worn apparently softer, there is no squat or fiat tendency permitted. The forward inclination of the hat gives a rakish aud peculiar, but graceful turn to the eutire appearance when not pushed too far. The eutire outlines of dress have an attenuating effect. The idea is to make the woman appear taller, THE NEW PICTURE HAT. more slender, willowy and graceful, i The lifting of the hat and pushing it forward has this effect and heightens the general gazelle-like idea.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers