FREEKISITI IIIDIME
Estah!i>hod 1838.
PUBLISHED EVKKY
MONDAY AI\D THURSDAY.
iIY THE
TRIBUNE PRINTING COMPANY. LIMITE-D
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comes a receipt for remittance. K "p th
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port promptly to ibis office whenever pape/
u not received. Arrearages must be puit
Whtn subscription is discoutiuaed-
Aldl.e all melt y order , check*, tic., payable
(o the Tribune Printing Company, Limited.
While there were 6000 murders in
the United States last year, the total
was 1600 lesi thau in 1808.
England will hardly go to the length
of denying t'ronje the right to dash
off a few magazine articles.
Maud S., the queen of the turf, is ■
dead. Probably no better horse was
ever reared in America. Her famous
trotting record bus been surpassed by
u tew seconds,but tho improved speed
was ma Te possible by improved ac
cess ui ies.
Tue state of Washington promises
to be a large producer of beet sugars I
in the early future. Experiments car- j
ried on during a number of years at i
the state experiment station have |
shown that sugar boots of iiigh su- j
cro e contents can be readily pro- |
duced.
That line old Spanish relic, the
Daks of Veragua, has beau insulted
in Paris by a vulgar merchant who
seized his baggage for debt. Thus
Again the impecunious old nobleman
is reminded that the modern chivalry
as a trashy sham, very much fr.iyed
at the edges.
Li Hung Chang eliugs to life with
passionate fervor, in order to wiu back
that peacock feather. He recently had
a chance to die by poison administered
by a treacherous cook—the recogaized
mode of departure for Oriental poten
tates— Lut he failed to avail himself of j
the opportunity.
A school-teacher in England adver* j
tised for boys "difficult to manage."
In response to this advertisement he
he got, among others, one boy who
subsequently set lire to the school j
buildings, so great had become his de- !
sire to escape from the school. There- j
upon the * ho d-teacher sued the boy '
in tho high court. The question at j
issue seemed to b-: What risks does j
the master assume, aud at what point
in the relations between teacher and
pupil will the law iuterfero? This was
a matter of great perplexity to .Mr.
Justice Ridley uiul also to the special
jury. The justice decide I that the
master assumed at least the risk of
"the wear aud tear of school furniture
by knocking about and kicking the
doors," but uo more. The exact point
us to kicking the doors does not ap
peal-. Tho jury brought in a verdict
of 8-2 )0 <u favor of the schoolmaster.
Atteutio" is called by The Electrical
Review to thj fact that in all tho dis
cussion of the trans-Pacific cable,
little or nothing has been said about
cable ships. These vessels are pe
culiar and expensive, a.id though
there are something like J5 of tlieiu
in existence, not on • of the <ls flies tho
American Hag. If, the efore, the
Pacific cable is to bo entirely of Amer
i ;iu production, we must have at. least
xwo cable ships, costing about SOOO,-
tmo each, and they cannot be built in
day or a month. The expense of u
plant for making ocean cables The
Electrical Review puts ut $1,000,000,
jt must be at the water's edge in or
'!or that tho cable may pass direct
from the inachiues into the vessel's
hold. The cable itself will cost about
. i:\090,000, a d the totul expenditure
be ore a message is sent across the
broadest of the seven seas is estimated
tit .'fiOjOOdjOOO, which is a lot of money
fi m some points of view, though not
o much from others,
Pr zes for Scicntis s.
Scientific work is greatly encouraged
in Trance by the prizes which have,
lv-en established by the Academic de 4
: iences, most of these being founded
• legacies which have been left for
• purpose. The Montyon prize is
. n annual award of $l4O. to be given to
the person whom the academy judges
*i" --1 worthy on account of an invention
' r improvements of instruments useful
in agriculture, the sciences or the me
chanical arts.
In a short time the Japanese popula
tion of San Francisco will reach 20.000.
British customs and excise receipts
h.r the fiscal year just closed yieldec
jj i 0,000,000 each above the Excliequei
■estimate.
TFiE UnS Y^/V\^^
BY JAME
IS morning
office, paus ocl
k\'l ImMsw in thu u - :el '-
paring' tT.i
h n tuorons
jah'i 4 column and
/"**' 1 groaned, gen
\\ tly, but with
x unmistakable
' earnestness.
Pet kins, at tho adjoining desk,
looked at him iu amazement. Never
before, during Ltii two yours of pro
fessional contiguity to Widger, had
lie observed a similar demonstration.
Ho mentioned tho fact at once.
"It is nothing, ' said Widger; "(bat
is, it is nothing serious, I came near
writing a real poem instead of jingle,
that iu all."
"I cull that rather serious," said
Perkins. "Heavens! Hilly, you must
go slow. You're on tho verge of
something. A chap of your talent
cannot be too careful."
".So?" said Widger, lazily. You
make me weary, Perk. What do you
know about poet 1-3' and its relation to
neurotic exhaustion. Do you consider
the production of real poetry an indi
cali hi of weakness at tho nerve cen
tres. Do you "
"No; but reo here Billv, I've pre
pared t!ig 'Hints t Housekeepers and
the 'Food and Health' column* lor
this paper >vgii!aily for three years
now. aud "
"You have prepared the 'Ann! Jo
rusha Talks With Girls' column," in
terrupted Widger. You are a vite
humbug, Perk."
"No more so than you, Billy. Don't
wound my sensitive heart, kind friend,
I pray yon. The Record is avowedly
the most popular paper iu the Mis
sissippi Valley among the woiue.i
Why? 'Tis I, Billy, me,
Who toils the woniou how to cook,
And make their homes successful;
Who tells I hem how that pimply look
Is reudjred less distressful.
Me, Billy, I—Oswald K. Perkins, tho
|)oor orphan, who wouldn't know how
it) act if ho had a home. That's tho
Seciet of my success, Billy; I'm orig
inal."
"Because you do not know any
better."
"Exactly. But as to yourself.
You're supposed to be funny. Your
stuff is well liked. Some people ac
tually laugh at it. Your verses jingle
pleasantly, and your paragraphs are
redolent of ginger. You hold your
job. You eat. But, Billy, dear,
'twould be very different if you should
blunder into poetry-—real poetry, as
you call it. You'd cease to eat. Your
nerves, deprived of tho food they
crave, would become toneless, suup
less. Prostration, agony, lingering
death, unwept, uuhouored, unsung.
Don't do it, Billy. '
Widger smiled.
"Perk," said lie. "you are a freak.
But you are wise—you must be or you
wouldn't lie able to humbug the women
as you do. You are also a gentleman,
and T believe a good judge of "
"Whisky?"
"No, poetry."
"Uin-m—l don't know."
"I do. Read that, and tell me what
you think."
Perkins proffered tho sheet with af
fected timidi:y, and looked at it from
the fcorners of his eyes. Then he
handed it back.
"It's pretty bad, Billy," said lie
honestly. "I don't think I ever read
worse.
Momory grim iloth rcml my heartstrings,
Cruelly with lingers pink
Is but little short of positive disease.
Do you feel perfectly well, old man?"
"Yes, I am well enough, but 1 am
depressed in spirit. Do you suppose,
Perk"—glancing at the clock —"that
if I gave you my confidence for about
fifteen minutes it would seriously in
terfere with the glorious work you are
doing for benighted women? Ithink
it would make me feel better."
"Nothing," replied Perkins firmly,
"can interfere with that. Go ahead,
old man."
He sat back in liis chair with an in
dex finger ou either side of his nose—
his characteristic attitude when in re
pose, as lie once informed the Rec
ord's cartoonist when that brilliant
but misguided young man hegge 1 him
for a '"sitting"—while Widger lowly
gathered the sheets from his desk and
tore them into strips
"You know where T came from,
Perk?" he asked, dropping the strips
into the waste basket.
"Bt. Paul, Billy. You didn't kuow
the letter J from a hole in the ground,
and you considered Minneapolis mere
ly a short chapter in mythology."
"Yes," said Widger. "Hay, Paul,
T worked on the Evening Gazette ami
my duties were as the sands of the sea.
everything, from heavy editorial
v the hotels, and between jumps I fell
b love. It may not altogether bo my
fault. Homo men are born lovers,
tome cultivate the tendency, and some
Jave it thrust upon them. It was
thrust upon me. And the maiden's
iraine was Smith."
"Smith—Smith," mumbled Per
kins; "iu all tho bright lexicon of
youth there is no such word as—go
on, Billy."
"She was a nice girl, as girls go,"
continued Widger, "well set head,
nonpareil body, good clear face and
the daughter of her father, who owned
ES TODD.
the Gazette. She was accustomed to
spending an hour or two each day at
the office, and I had not talked with
her many times before f experienced
a strange sensation. I did not know
I what to call it. I suppose it was love,
! bat 1 never said a word about if to
j her. I reasoned, tl-.r.t it would be too
i I presumptuous—might lose me my
i j situation.
I "I did not know then that T was
j qualified to do anything better in the !
. ' newspaper line thau to grind on the
I Gazette at ground pay. I made my- 1
j self wretched at times wishing she j
: would keep away from the office, so
; that I might forget her. But I drew '
j a long breath of relief the next time j
I 1 sho appeared, and answered herques- j
, lions about Uiis and that thing 30111- |
! nalistb, cud listened to her blissfully '
' when she told ine what a glorious pro
• ' fession she thought it aud what an
ornament to it she considered me.
| "Ni'c sounded me frequently ou :uy
[ j ambitions, and I toll her freely what
: ! were my hopes.
f; "'You are wedded to your work,*
she said to mc one day.
j "*1 am,' I replied,
j "Then she looked at me with an i
; expression which I did not under- J
> i stand and changed tho subject. I
I never saw her outside of the office. I
• was practically penniless, auil she!
• ' accustomed to luxury. I was not iu •
; society. Our lives bad little in com- j
inou. f loved her. Tho tiling for !
j lue to do, as a sensible porsou, was to !
i make the best of it silently, and i did !
1 : •. Did Ido right, Perk?"
i "Precisely, Billy, (let along."
i "Well, after a while her engage
■ | incut to one of thu great men of the
: j city—liamo Jones—was aunounced,
i and it fell upon my harrowed soul
1 with much the gentleness of a thiui
, | dorclap. I felt bad, Pork, but at the
, same time I felt glad—glad that I had
not made an ass of myself.
"I had been sorely temptod, heaven
knows. At tho first opportunity—
sho had dropped into the office t > re
load her camera in the coat closet—l
shook bauds with her and told her as
clearly as I could—not knowing what
to say—how delighted I was, aud,
sir, she turned squarely about with
out a word and left me high and dry,
looking every bir, I doubt not, as
foolish as I felt. That was in Juuu
aiy. The wedding was to occur iu
j J line.
i "I worked liko a cold weather 63*
j and tried, to forget her. I succeeded
pretty well. Her visits to tho office
i had ceased with my well-meaut cou
i gratalatory performance, and this
• mado it easier for me, although my
heart beat like shorthand whenever
I 1 heard a female voice from the
s private office, and tho sudden swish
of skirts caused mo to jump violently.
But I did not see her again until
May—three weeks before the wed
ding. She had been in Chicago, J
believe, paying a fa rowel 1 visit to a
schoolmate, and incidentally " '
"Never mind that, Biily," inter-
I jeeted Perkius. "You don't know
1 what sho was doing incidentally.
1 j Come to the point."
! Widger bowed gravely. "All right,
I Perk. 1 thank you. I was alouo in
j tho office one stormy night, fixiug up
a string of airy falsehoods for the next
j day, when tho telephoue bell rang
, i like forty fires. I put the receiver to
! my car, held it there for perhaps a
■ j minute, yelled 'yes' into tho trans
-1 mitter, bolted into my overcoat and j
> I turned out the light.
"I was ut G., S. and X. shops five ;
i j minntea later, aud, swinging onto the j
[ , rear platform of tho caboose attached i
to a wrecking train, iu an hour I was j
( I ou the scene of tho worst railway !
I smash-up in tho history of Minnesota.
| "Ever see a splintered passenger
• ! train at night, Perk—white faces star
ling at you by lantern light, groans
i seeming to rise out of the earth,
j steam, smoke, horror? I never real
! ized until that night what an awful
. j thing darkness is—darkness to which
, j there is no limit Hint almost suffo
| cites a man and strikes him blind. |
j Time and ago in I iu voluntarily passed
j my hand before my face to clear away
1 iu the blackness for my eyes.
! "There was a station not far away,
and after getting what information I :
. could I took my way in that direction
to get off some dispatches for the first I
editions of the morning papers, j
stumbling along as best I could,
yearning for light, light, light. Aud,
Perk, I—l—there was light."
I "Celestial lire, Billy?"
".Something like it. I stumbled
over a body finally. I had been
, dreading it, and prayiug that I might
be steered clear of that sort of ob
stacles. It gave out the faintest kind
of a moan when I struck it, and I re
. coiled as much as fifteen feet, Itliiuk.
Then I took a firm grip 011 myself aud
approached it again, because that
I seemed to bo my duty.
"The man or woman, whichever it
I was, had evidently crawled out of the
I wreck ami tried to go somewhere. It
' had luiled wretchedly. It was lying
in the long, wet grass at. quite a little
; distance from the track. It might
1 not be found for hours if I passed it
j by. Nevertheless, I hesitated. I
confess it with shame.
"Then I knelt by its side and
f passed my bauds over its cold, raiu
> washed face aud bedraggled hair. It
was a woman. I put iuy finger to it 3
pulse. It was alive.
, "The Mutter of the straining heart
1 acted like a strong stimulant upon
1 iuo. I lifted the limp form in my
arms and felt my way onward to the
ata'ion. It was a long walk and a
hard one, not unfraught with danger,
for there was a bridge to be crossed,
hilt. I reached the end at last and
passed into the light of the waiting
room, and—and—and, Perk, it was
she. I had been carrying her iu my
anus all that distance.
"I believe thoy considered me in
sane when I laid her upon the opera
tor's bed and looked into her face.
For an instant my strength went from
me to the last, ounce aud T all but col
lapsed; then it came hack in a mighty
wave, and I suppose I did act like a
maniac.
"She had au old-fashioned locket in
her hand, fastened about her neck by
a ribbon, and she held it to her lips
rigidly, as she had held it when she
was fainting in the long, wet grass.
Perk, I cannot tell you how 1 felt.
[
"Don't try, Billy. Keep to your
story."
W train arrived shortly with doc
tors, and one of theui pushed me from
her side by force—ho had to use force
—aud cut the ribbon and removed her
hand from her mouth. He said some
thing about respiration as ho did it,
aud looked at the locket curiously.
" 'Opeu it,' said be, unclasping her
fingers; 'it may identify her.'
"I opened it—l opened it, Perk,
and—aud it contained my own pic
ture—a picture she had taken herself
without my knowledge.
"I put it into my pocket. No one
noticed, fof other victims were, brought
in then, aud the place was in a tur
moil. Then I wont out into the rain,
and walked aud walked, kissing that
bauble over and over again. It was
daylight when I saw her again, and
she was being assisted to the traiu
that was to take her home. She seemed
little the worse for the shock she had
suffered. Iler face was very white— j
that was all."
"Didn't you speak to her?"
"Yes, 1 spoke to her; but Jones was
with her, his arm about her waist, and
her father was close behind her, laden
with wraps, aud I only said 'Ho w- |
de-do, Miss Smith?' and swallowed
my heart.
"The Gazette nearly got scooped on
the story of the wreck. They de- j
penned on mo to fix it up, aud foi |
some reasou or other I forgot it. 1
resigned my position the next day, f
and came down here to do humor. 1
did not dare to attempt anything else, j
for fear of going into a decline. I have
been fairly well contented, but once
in a while, Perk, I got down ill the j
mouth. I found this in one of the 1
papers from up there this morning." j
He drew a clipping l'rom his pocket
aud tossed it upon the desk. Perkins i
read it:
"Um-iu—'Born, a boy to Mr. and
Mrs. John Jones," eh? Well, what of
it, Billy? Didn't you think it possi
ble?"
"Yes, but, Pork"—and there was a
uotc of genuine sorrow in Widger's
voice—"she—slio will forget mo en
tirely now."
Porkius laid his hand lightly upon
Widger's shoulder for au instant.
"Go to work, Billy," said he, softly,
"ft is better so."
"Yes," assented Widgcr, "it is bet
ter so."
He breathed deeply and turned
again to his jokes and jingles.—Phila
delphia Press.
Dllllcnlt I.ovo-Mnkln?.
"Professional nurses have no busi
ness being so confoundedly good
looking," said a young man who has
recently spent several weeks in a local
infirmary. "The nurse who was del
egated to attend to mo while 1 was
laid up was a distractingly handsome
girl, with a pure Greek profile, red
dish brown hair—the kind that seems
fall of little, golden tendrils iu the
sunlight—an.l eyes as liquid as a
fawn's. The first time she put her
finger on my wrist, my pulse ran up to
at least 175, aud she took it for
granted 1. hail a high fever and dosed
mo accordingly. I tried repeatedly
to lure her into conversation, but she
wouldn't be lured. She was strictly
business. When I started to pay her
compliments she would ask me to put
out my tongue, which was an insur
mountable obstacle to conversation. I
used to lie there with my tongue
hanging out trying to put my whole
soul into my eyes, but it was no go.
No man can look romantic with half a
foot of furry red tongue protruding,
from his countenance. Another way
sho had of gaging me was by putting
the thermouetcr in my mouth. The
last week I was there I proposed to
her five tunes, or, rather, I tried to,
bat she invariably choked off my dec
larations by thrusting a thermometer
into my mouth. I got so excited one
time that I came near swallowing a
thermometer worth several dollars.
She was a most excellent young wom
an and hud lots of sound common
souse, us was evideuced by the fact
that she gave me no encouragement
whatever."—New Orleans Times-
Democrat.
More Than He Couhl Staml.
"What's this?" demanded the police,
hurrying to the scene. "A hold-up?"
A pale, scholarly looking mau in
spectacles was standing over a burly
ruffian and shaking his slender fist at
the prostrate form.
"Presume that is what yon would
term it," he replied. "This fellow
stopped me just now and ordered me
to hold up my hands. I complied, and
he began to search my pockets. *£
will put a bullet through you.' he said,
'if you take them down all during the
time I am—' aud then I knocked him
down. 'All during' is an uhomiuable
perversion of correct English tiiat no
man can utter in my presence unre
buked."
The unlucky footpad had tackled a
professor of rhetoric. —Chicago Tri
buae.
| WOMAN'S WORLD. 1
PREACHINC IN THE PULPIT.
Over Three Hundred Women Ministers
Now in the United States.
The Pauline edict "Let your wom
en keep silence in the churches" has
been a lively source of controversy
ever since it was uttered. For many
generations a literal adherence was
insisted upon, and it liually eauia to
be regarded by the majority of man
kind us an actual article of faith. All
through the ages, however, there has
been an occasional woman whose gen
ius has triumphed over prejudice and
who has become not only a preacher,
but a founder of a new religious body .
Ann Lee and Mrs. Hutchiusou are
well kuowu examples.
Within the last two hundred years
there has been a gradual change of
opinion on the question of woman's j
place in the church. The earliest |
English Methodists permitted women
exhortors, or outdoor preachers, and
Quakers have always held that the
Spirit was as likely to move one side
of the meeting house as the other.
America.having 110 established church,
has really done more than auy other
country toward destroying the old tra
dition, and for many years women
have been seen in pulpits and pastor
ates, leading useful, happy lives, be
loved and appproved of by the com
munity. In the Unitarian, Congrega
tional and Methodist churches they
have long been appreciated, and lately
the Baptist, Presbyterian and other
conservative denominations are be
ginning to invite women to ministerial
duties.
An interesting and significant cere
mony took place in Chicago recently,
on which occasion Mrs. Vaudclia Var
uum Thomas, wife of the pastor of
the People's Church, was ordained "a
liberal aud independent minister."
Every denomination 'of the Cougress
of Religions was represented, aud the
officiating minister was the present
pastor of the Methodist Episcopal
Church, which twenty years ago ex
cluded Dr. Thomas from its member
ship.
Of other women who are iu pastoral
places, the Row Frances Kimball was !
lately ordaiued to the Universalis
ministry, three other women ministers
taking part in the ceremony. Mrs.
Kimball has charge of the churches at
South Bar re aud Williamstowu, Vt.
The Congregational Church at Con
don, Ore., 011 the death of its pastor
unanimously invited his wife to fill
the vacaucy. The Rev. Hannah Jew
ett Powell wr 1 recently installed as
pastor of the 1 aiversalist Church, at !
North Jay, Me., Congregational and
Methodist ministers oflieiatiug. The |
address of welcome on behalf of the j
parish was given by Mrs. Silas i
Wright.
Speaking of the ministry as a pro
fession for women, Mrs. Florence Kol
lock Crooker, of Michigan, expresses
her belief that women generally should,
and will, choose a domestic life, and
that the proportion of women minis
ters wilt never bo large, there being
only three hundred now in the United
States; but the few who are irresisti
bly called to the work will always have
qualifications which men lack. Their !
power for good, grantiug ac equal !
equipment, will be greater than that
of their masculine colleagues. Women, 1
Mrs. Crooker believes, have the power |
to enter more fully than men into the
lives of the people, and are able to
gain their confidence with compara- |
tive ease. They also know how to i
deal with young people and childreu. )
Mrs. Crooker was a minister before I
her marriage, and since has acted as \
State missionary of the liberal churches
of Michigan. She organized churches, i
selected and ordaiued ministers, sup- 1
plied pulpits, and in too many ways j
fulfilled the duties of the bishop of |
the older denominations. At present |
her time is divided between assisting
her husband in his parish work and
lecturing on educational aud philan
thropic subjects.
Popular Scurf*.
As for scarfs, they are übiquitous.
A scarf is the favorite trimming (
for the front of a bodice, especially :
drawn from beneath the bolero aud j
tied into a huge bow iu front.
They are draped across the front j
gore of evening skirts iu the same j
manner as on the bodice. Where the j
sides are plaite.l or the front seams ;
trimmed two large scarfs come from '
beneath, droop down a little aud tie ;
in a large bow with long ends.
This fashion is particularly attrac
tive on black net and liberty silk j
gowns.
Many of the new sleeves instead of
having a ruffle, are wrapped about a i
scarf. This is particularly done on j
elbow sleeves. A scarf of liberty silk !
or chiffon is drawn around the sleeves ;
aud tied in a great bow on the sides
with ends that hang half way to the
wrist.
As for the sleeves themselves, there '
is a growing fervor for those of chiffon '
iu all kinds of light fabric gowns,
such as crepe de chine, lansdowue,
liberty silk aud net. These sleeves
aro made mousquetaire, but quite
tight-fitting. .
It is a great mistake to make a loose
mousquetaire sleeve, yet many dress- |
makers do it.
The very nature of the sleeve de
mands that it fit the arm snugly. All
sleeves now demand to be fitted well
iu at the wrist. If they are too small
for the baud to go through, then open
the back seams and buttom them up
after they are on. Even the new
shirtwaist cuffs fit very close.
There is one extremely pretty model
showing three of the fashions I have
written of in a pineapple of white
with a coral thread in it. The skirt
is tucked in groups, the bodice tucked
all over, aud over it a bolero jacket of
yellow laee with a edge of black
chiffon and a black scarf of liberty
silk drawn from under the bolero and
tied in front.
The sleeves are coral chiffon mous
quetaire, shaped in tightly at the
wrist and out over the knuckles.
Your Fortmio in a Cup.
For curious students of occultism
we append the accepted code of for
tune telling by means of tea leaves or
coffee grounds. After finishing your
matutinal beverage and finding a
■ sediment i i (he cup, drain off all the
; moisture and read the figures made
j by the grounds or leaves as follows:
J Serpentine lines, future troubles,
j Straight lines, loug life aud pros*
I perity.
A ring, marriage.
A leaf of clover, good luck.
An auchor, your business will be
successful.
A letter, welcome news.
A coffin, a loug illness.
A star, happiness.
A dog, you have faithful friends.
A lily, a long aud happy life.
A cross, misfortune.
The sun, the greatest luck.
The moon, high honors.
Mountain, you have powerful ene
mies.
A tree, lasting good health.
A child, you will have great ex
penses.
A woman, great joy.
A lieait, you will receive some
money.
Birds, trouble.
Fish, you will travel some distance.
Uiinftuuinlng Allaa Wilson.
Miss Wilsou, daughter of the Secre
tary of Agriculture, in point of years,
should be considered as one of tho
"Cabinet girls," but by reason of her
position as the head of her father's
household aud his hostess, she is more
often quoted among the matrons.
With tho exception of Mrs. Gage,
Miss Wilson is the only Cabinet wom
an left of the original assistants at the
first White House reception of the
present Administration.
This only maiden hostess among
them has worn her honors easily and
gracefully. She prasides over the
iiome of one of the capital's chief of
ficials with grace and dignity. Her
manner is cordial and she has the
happy faculty of saying tho right thing
on all occasions. Miss Wilsou is en
dowed with personal charm of looks
and manner, although when asked to
say something about herself ou one ;
occasion, she modestly wrote: "lam I
my father's housekeeper, have literary .
tastes and I am not pretty. "—Na
tional Magazine.
ISlaclc iind White Combination.
Black and white are again to be
combined in both costumes aud mil- I
linery. Black broad cloth with white
moire trimmings is effective aud chic '
iu the former, aud black Neapolitan i
straw with feathers and bows of black
uud white tulle in the latter.
Jeweled Hairpin*.
Rather long hairpins with jeweled
heads are a uew fancy.
Frill* or Pnsliion.
Sashes arranged around tho waist j
like a Swiss belt are fastened with a \
rosette aud finished ou the ends with 1
silk fringe.
Lace boleros with black velvet rib- !
bon run through them aro a useful as !
well as effective addition to the bodioe
needing afresh touch.
White aud tinted chiffon in the form
of various kinds of (lowers, some with i
jeweled centres, are used on dres j
hats and bonnets Ibis season.
Three colors, most frequently seen
iu tho silk or ribbon trimmings, j
bunched together, and all delicate
shades are to bo found on many hats.
Bale blue and beige are combined
in tho latest novelties. A beige home- i
spuu with pale blue facings on the !
jaunty Eton eout is one of the newest ■
models.
Lingerie, which embraces peignoirs |
of every description, is getting more
and more luxurious. No woman of
ashion would nowadays do her hair
I .ii an unbecoming shade of dressing
gown.
Butter-color straw and black velvet
are as attraothe as ever combined this
year. The omnipresent black velvet
ribbon iu narrow widths, combiued j
with braids of straw the same width, !
forms some of the attractive hats.
Insertions of lace contiuue to be '
worn iu fashion both simple and 1
complicated. An evening gown "just !
from Doucet" has insertions all over :
the skirt iu large lozenges, and smaller !
lozenges iu the bodice and sleeves. j
Black velvet ribbon in narrow !
widths is strikingly in evidence on j
many of the new gowns iu the form 1
of straight bands, rosettes or lattice
work designs forming the vest, a por
tion of the sleeve or possible fau
nhapod divisions on the lower half of
tho skirt.
Up to date the status of the jacket
seems to be somewhat uncertain.
That a demand for jackets will arise
later there is little doubt, but on just
what particular shape the demand
will find expression it is difficult to
say. Many favor the little loose back
box coats.
Fringe continues to be very modish;
and, save the mark, it is even inappro
priately applied to handkerchiefs.
Among the newest handkerchiefs are
those with colored hems and em
broidery. The plain white handker
chief, however, will ever remain the
most elegant.
Mercerized canvas and cotton grena
diues, treated with the same alkali
solution, ad:l variety to the extensive
array of cotton dress fabrics. They
are checked, striped or covered with
waved lines of varying soft colors,
aud very pliable without being easily
mussed. The pretty gloss which
gives them a silky appearance is their
chief attraction.
THE SUMMER WAIST.
. Now doth the
J Festive
Summer waist appear upon
The scene,
I In every shade
From white to rod, and
Hundreds in between;
| Ik dazzleth every manly eye,
■ And stretcheth
I Every neclc,
! And raaketh am'rous fellows
• Haste to follow
I*At her neck
' As down the street In glad array
; Pair Doris lightly trips,
| A vision rare
; Prom ankle neat to
! Dainty ilugor-tips;
| Aud there are
; Hosts of others—all most
; Gleefully parade,
; With some in stripes
I And some in plaids and somo
| In chocks arrayed.
1 Aud some are silken, some
Are wool, some linen,
j Some pique,
j And e'en the (lannel and
Noursilk are seen
j In the array;
And some do blaze like
I Goals of lire while some are
( Verdant quite,
j And every shade of
I Yellow, brown, blue. red. green,is in sight;
I And thus, when warming zephyrs
; Kiss the early-leallng
j Tree, the streets
I Become kaleidoscopes
; Of femininity;
! And marvel of all marvels! Each
' Bright damsel feels that .>Uo
Doth wear by fur the
I Swollest waist
or all
That company!
All maidens love the
j Summer waist, the waist of
j Giddy hue, aud
, Twiddles lovo to love tho maids, who
i Lovo this loving, too!
1 So here's a toast, a merry toast,
To maidens sweet, encased
Within the
Gay, alluring, neat and giddy
Summer waist!
—J. W. W., In the Now York San.
JINGLES AND JESTS.
Askin—"Would you consider tlie,
occupation of a baseball magnate a
profession?" Teller—"No; it's usu
ally a trude."
Procrnstiuution Is the thief
Of time, but time does not despair.
In turn he steals, tf> woman's grief.
Her beauty, and he thus gels square,
—Philadelphia Uncord.
"Why should wo worry, Jack?
Surely tho world owes us a liviug."
"I'm afraid, though, that we arc not
on the list of preferred creditor.*."—
Brooklyn L.le.
"I'm afraid my blood is out of or
der," complained the lobster as the
cook drew near. "In fact, I fear I
am going to suffer with a boil."—Phil
adelphia Record.
"Somo people just naturally can't
help being stylish." "That's so;
there's Belinda, if she got bitten by
a dog it would bo sure to be a daclist
huud."—Washington Star.
"Mary," said the great man, swell
ing, "this paper speaks of mo as a
Presidential possibility." "John,"
said his wife, anxiously, "how much
did that coat you?"— Puck.
Bacon —"Men aro always looking
for an exalted lineage." Egbert—
"Unless they are traveling on tho
railroad; then they are after a lower
berth."—Youkors Statesman.
"We do not stop to think," he said.
The lady, with a smile,
remarked: "IT some did stop to think
They'd stop along, long while."
—Detroit Free Press.
Rev. Dr. Joyner—"And so you two
are making life one grand, sweet
song?" Rattles "Yes, coctor, a
reg'lar opera; with frautic calls for
tli3 author when tho baby cries."—
Brooklyn Life.
Ascetic and gourmand are like after all,
For each has the very same aim.
Gnu's always forgetting tho good things o£
life,
The other's for getting tho same.
—Philadelphia Press.
I-I-I s-a-y," stammered the stran
ger, looking about at tho iamp-post
confusedly "c-c-an yon fc-t-tell mo
where I-I am?" "No, I really can't,"
was the reply of the passer-by; "you
know, he who hesitates is lost."—
Yonkers Statesman.
The Laugh WHS on lleeil.
A good story is told in West Vir
ginia involving two of the Congress
men from that snug little State aud
Thomas B. Reed, the gigantic Speaker
of the last House. The two West Vir
ginians are Hon. Blackburn B. Dov*
euer aud Hon. Romeo Hoyt Freer.
Both are small in stature and wonder
fully alike in their general appear
ance. Together thoy went up to the
ponderous Maine man to be intro
duced.
"Humph!" said Mr. Reed, "is that
the best the Persimmon State can do?"
"What do you moan?" asked Mr,
Freer.
"Nothing," drawled the elephantine
Speaker. "I was - only wondering at
the uniformity of things down your
way. I suppose tho horses aro all
ponies and the persimmons all dwarfs
"Well," interrupted Mr. Freer,
"there is one thing in oar favor, the
persimmon has more taste than the
pumpkin."
The laugh was ou the Speaker, and
ho acknowledged it by cordially grasp
ing the hands of the Lilliputians aud
joining in the merriment.—Success,
A Missouri Man's Odd Violin.
A unique violin has been made by a
Missouri man. The back is of cherry
from a table more than a century old,
which formerly belonged to the How
ard-Payne College. In the centre of
the back aro inserted twenty-one
pieces of wood from the Holy Laud,
one being from'a grapevine that grew
in the Garden of Gethsemane. Around
the margin are set in a row small
pieces of wood, diamond shaped,
gathered from all over the civilized
world. In one eud of the back is in
serted a horseshoe made of castor
wood, and in the other end is the
imago of a rabbit carved in cherry.
There are, in all, over one hundred
and fifty pieces of wood, and tho only
tools usod in the manufacture of the
instrument were a pooket-knife aud a
half-inch chisel.