Newspaper Page Text
AT SEA ON AS
OCEAN LINER.
Preliminary Incidents cf a Toy-
age on a Great Atlantic
Steamer.
THE ONLY STOP ON TEE
Dropping the Pilot— Flower Shows.
A Little Bit of Society Cunning.
An Angry Beauty — Seasick
Passengers in Mute Despair— A
Being in Blue, Gold and Bronze.
Special Corresponilcuce of TitK Sunday Call.
ijT-T^T SEA, June "'"• 1600.— There is only
•_H™» 4 " ne place where the great Atlantic
_f tjl"' liners come to a complete stop, un
less from accident, between their Xew York
clocks and Queenstown. This is for a most
interesting little incident and ceremonial,
of which first-trippers usually have no
knowledge, and which even old voyagers
seldom quite understand. It is called
"dropping the pilot."
11 you are still upon the promenade-deck
ami have got the mists of parting" out of
your eyes, you have perhaps wondered what
that bronzed-face man in citizen's clothing
was doing up tnere among the bespangled
officers upon the bridge. lie seems the
ouletest fellow on board. His eyes are
tingling out the row of channel-buoys, or,
with a glass, rapidly scanning tiie lower
Jersey shores and the gleaming lines of the
Long Island sands, or again glancing nt this
point or that along the sea horizon. His is
an anxious face. The lines in it uncon
sciously picture the human look that tells
of si ii ing lost, or of great danger that
there may be. 1 have seen men like him
stand where he is with that same look, and
the perspiration dripping from their laces
in streams in the coldest of weather. This
mail is uot the ship's captain; but while be
stands there, now and then giving a low
toned order, he is absolutely the commander
oi the ship. He is a Xew York pilot, de
tailed from the lower Wall-street pilot office
to take your ship to sea. In ordinary cases
his fee would be based upon the ship's ton
nage. With the larger ocean steamships a
"lumped" price is made. He must remain
aboard until Sandy Hook is passed, and as
much further out as the steamer-captain de
sires. If it be pleasant weather, when you
are abreast of Sandy Hook you will notice
a row-boat, yawl-built, manned by two men,
putting out from the light-ship anchored
between your steamer and the Hook. This
light-ship is simply a Xew York harbor
pilot-boat, by pilot regulations made to do
I.ci* "turn" of a "month's stand" in this un
savory, though
t.i i !.n EXCITING BERTH.
Her crew are pilots' 'prentices getting
their first lessons and experiences at pilots'
duties aud hardships. The boat being
rowed briskly toward your steamer in the
channel is called a "pilots' punt" ; and the
two oarsmen are kuottily built 'prentice
lads of IS or 20 years of age. At the same
moment the punt deads for the steamer the
hitter's engines slow down. The punt and
the steamer meet at the point of an exact
right-angle; lines are cast; the punt made
; fast to float alongside the ship's port side,
and the rope-ladder is lowered. Meantime
the pilot has resigned his post on the
bridge. The chief officer immediately takes
his place. Stepping to the chart-room the
pilot lenities in the log-book that the ship
lias duly cleared the port of New York; the
ship's commander certifies the pilot's fee,
which pilotage is duly paid by the New
York agents of the line, and in a
-moment more the pilot has been
"dropped" into the, waiting punt. By the
. ship's rail stands the purser, or the
mail steward. A thousand addenda good
bys have been hastily written, sealed and
stamped, and huudieds of telegrams in
ilitedXbe the docks and the Hook.
These, last slender thread between land
and home and the irrevocable finality of
your voyage, are let down by line to the
pilot, who takes them as with unconscious
tenderness in his arms. Iv another Instant
the ship's engines are again thundering.
.Tlie pilot's punt shoots straight for the
lieht-ship. Tin officer on the bridge nods to
the boatswain, « hose shrill whistle "strikes
the flags." The quartermaster brings down
the. ship's three Hags— "blue Peter" or
sailing-day flag from the foremast, the own
er's ur "house" Hag from the mainmast,
and Ihe ensign Irom the gaff— as a dead
shot hunter will bring some gay bird of pas
si .-■ from its flight quiveringly to his feet.
A farewell cheer rings out over the port
side alter the departing pilot. Your voyage
has now really begun.
.There can nowhere be noticed a more
dolorous change than that which in twen
ty-four bonrs' time after sailing-day lias
come over the manner, appearance, and en
vironment of from li.a.m to -"000 souls on
your great ocean steamer. The quiet
people in dark gray serges and tweeds hold
their own handsomely. These were the
lens- hilarious and obstreperous at sailing.
Put they comprise but a trifling percentage.
Xearly all the rest have conn; aboard as
they would attend a reception or the opera,
with a view tn making something of an im
pression. That quite forgivable human
weakness of ever being ou the alert to be
thought well of lias bad every form of ex
pression. This one has held a veritable
levee un the wharf. Auother lias arranged
to receive all mannerof needless correspon
dence and telegrams. Auother has actually
sent to a choice circle I*. P. C. cards, with
name of steamer, .sailing date and hour,
v Ith a delicate intimation that the presence
of dear friends at sailing would be
A CII-UI.VI.VG TOKIJ.V OF KEGARD.
This brings a score of carriages, a crowd of
folk, a dozen or so regrets by messengers,
and what is still more at ceptable, because
of its* impressivoiiess, a perfect ovation iv
fruits, bonbons and flowers, it 13 a feast
to this class of departing ones to overhear
covert inquiries like " Who are those
people?" "What party is that?" "High
rollers, that crowd, eh?" And the silks,
diamonds and laces of these people are over
whelming. They know it, and a pleasant
little thrill of conquest cornea of it all. But
the height of delight or despair to these
nouvt-aux riches is found in the matter of
patting floral offerings. The chief sVoward
of the gieat liner upon which 1 am now
writing estimates the value ot flowers sent
to the cabin within twenty-four hours
previous to sailing as often reaching fully
$2500. One stand nsver cost less than 8350,
1 1 . , vv its possessor, a wicked old crone of 70,
hid underneath paint, wig and bangs aud
bespangled with diamonds, glared with
scorn at the Sol) or SIOO offerings piled upon
the cabin tables! But some of our Mew
York worthies are very clever about Ibis
steamship flower-show.
"Do >mi see that magnificent figure?"
asked the steward, pointing to a piece four
feet in height artistically formed into sem
blance of the cnat-of-arms of quite a cele
brated English house. "The lady of the
family lv whom this was sent claims to be
of noble birth, although her husband sells
rum for a living. She crosses often with us;
and she usually has the handsomest offering
sent aboard. 1 know her llorist very well,
."-he makes the order herself. Just before
V 0 in '-as ho re' gong is sounded, if you keep
"a -harp lookout, you will see that her offer
ing is suddenly whisked ashore. Scores of
'em do that."
" Where is the poiut in the maneuver?"
"Oh, a 'crasher' ou the resl of the pas
sengers, at hall price. The flowers go back
to the florist's, are taken to pieces, and are
all sold in cheap bouquets at the ferry
houses before night."
I did keep a sharp lookout and did see a
number of the finest pieces "whisked
ashore." It was a pretty little bit of society
cunning I bad failed to know about before.
Quite theatric, too. But these steamship
flower-shows are something really tremen
dous. At the first meal or two, their pos
ses-, are literally banked in flowers, to
the great inconvenience and mortification of
others. Near my own seal were a mother
and daughter in a desperate way. Probably
not more than glflX) or $300 wortli of flowers
hedged them in like a fairy chevnux de
rise, v They were contemplating another
castellated battlement of the same sort, fur
ther down tba table, a trifle more gorgeous
than their own. "I don't blame you, Hel
en," said the mother with haughty disaain.
"It showed a very mean spirit in him. '.-■._■ *-.
AN ANGI.Y BEAUTY. -
"Mean spiritl" retorted the daughter,
writhing in anger. "George is too penuri
ous, that's what be is. 1 shall just order
the steward to pitch them overboard at
ouce. He said I should have the finest on
the steamer— the briite! ■ That settle* him.
He'll get his conge at Liverpool. ' No— 111
cable it from Queenatuwu I"
George was evidently betrothed to this
being. He had only sent her §300, instead
ol 1000, worth of flowers, and had . probably
gene back to the office at parting to cover
up the shortage in his accounts. Lucky
at iß___t___i__ i iTi ii ______■______■ 1 1 i in . -&■ =■-■■ — -^ - ■*--■** -■-- -- Jk
George, when that Queens, own cablegram
arrives! Maybe he can retrieve himself
on the books, and some time learn to fer
vently thaiiK Uod that he did not invest
$200 more of his employers' money in flow
ers this sailing day.
Two or three meals at farthest sponge
the banquet airs from the cabin ' tables.
Fifty plates will suffice for the second day
at table for breakfast; perhaps no more
tban twice that number for luncheon and
dinner. White-gloved table stewards, sol
emn as mules at a funeral, stand idly by
for the two hours of the double sittings,
steadfastly regarding the artistic lights of
the gay cabin dome; or receiving with
stately and compassionate reserve the hum
ble apologies of these having sudden en
gagements in their state-rooms or upon
deck. The il.. ers have wholly disappeared
from the main tables, anil, fur courtesy's
sane, tarry a little like a shuddering array
of hectic ghosts upnn the spare tables in
the alcoves, as if each withered and trem
bling bud knew Its fate of being tossed into
the sea en lite morrow. Tbe ship's com
mander, bland as a bar-tender in port, lias
hidden himself from view. The purser's
window is shut as if hermetically sealed.
The ship's doctor has retired .behind
the Strictest interpretation of hours and
rules. 'I he thief and assistant steward-, to
whom your great fee has already gone lor
a choice seat at the table, refuse to recog
nize you. Your room-steward eyes you with
a look of sharp suspicion and close analysis.
Will you give him much trouble, and will
you fee generously? comprise his utter
most interest. But he will permit no early
familiarity. The stewardess Quints her
white- capped head, plainly sayiiqM^" There
are characters li'ou this 'ere vessel aside my
li'i.wn to sustain, sir!" The boatswains,
whose frizzled, fatherly faces on the first
day gave promise of sea yarns and ocean
lore revelations, are as stolid as bronzes or
brass. The sergeant-at-aruis and deck
stewards walk around you, look you up ami
down, over and around, fore and aft, star
board and port, as if to remind you that
deck rules are deck law, sir.
The bell-boys, those little dried-up old
commodores of the passages, library ami
lavatories, regard you from beneath beet
ling brows as with savage advance protests
against possible requests for favors. Wan
der where you may on your steamer's decks
or within her splendid cabins, you lind but
savagery, selfish preoccupation and mute
despair. The officeis and crew are one and
all moodily recovering from port excesses.
The few passengers upon their legs are
each nursing parting melancholy, figuring
upon trip expenses, or contemplating the
difference between the songs nnd the
scourges of the se.i. The predominating
hosts are In the throes of unmitigated, un
vanquisbable seasickness. And how it
levels the proud ami great! Look at them
sprawling in their chairs, hundreds of them
under the lee awnings, hope, pride,
scorn, hauteur, all flown like the flush of
the shriveled flowers below. That pompons
old fellow who can draw his check for a
cool million, and who, on shore, reckons
himself a boy of 40, you know, is stretched
there like a drunkard, holding his two sets
of false teeth in his nerveless hand with the
most familiar abandon. He recks not those
who see; he sees not those who reck. Here
is a grand dame, as easy a subject of study.
Her wig is displaced ; the ponder and color
have been sponged from one side of her
face by some attentive stewardess; her
lares, flounces and silks are disheveled ; she
is snoring, diversified by snorts aim pula
teal staccatos. Berttgged and bejcweled
she seems a sad travesty on even some
giddy "Aiiss Ilavisham," escaped from a
moldy bridal chamber and fallen in a
"Seven Dials" debauch. Look at this
belle's beauty now. George, back there in
.New York, would be a lucky dag to catch a
glimpse of her divine face this moment. lie
would wait for no conge from Liverpool.
Paint, powder and bilgewater are blended
into a dirty French gray upon her athery
countenance. The fog lias deposited a
clammy rime upon this. Strands of her
now waveless hair are fluttering stickily
within her open montn. Her eyes seem to
have gone back into her head an inch and
are closed beneath dirty yellow lids." Amid
this wreck of beauty there is oijf bit of
color. It is her pinky, pointed nose, It
would have paralyzed Helen to have worn
a 25-cent bathing-hat at sea. So from under
the edge of her $-3 hat her sea-blistered
nose rises rare and red like some dark,
dolorous isle. In a few days inure the
long-abused cuticle will peel from this little
nose in tenacious swirls and curls, and as
Helen steps upon the staging at Liverpool
the rude Customs Inspectors will pronounce
her an American h'objeek."
.___ TKAVEI, STUDIES.
One might lill a book with these sea travel
studies. A good deal besides seasickness
and its rank-leveling power might be dwelt
upon. But the old traveler, and the lirst
tripper who is cautious and conservative,
will never be tempted into remarks about
prowess in bouts with the fell destroyer.
At the first and second* meals, while the
taste of your Xew York friend* champagne
is still sweet on your palate, you are likely
to roar a little along the line. But you will
regret it. Listen to those retelling wretches
in their state-rooms below. Each one had
Hung a challenge to old Neptune's powers.
The little dude has lisped under his nap
kin, "Lying wight dwown on one's back'll
do nausea, I'll allow." The Chicago packer,
loading bis plate with another swath
of his own boneless ham, lias snorted,
"Pshaw, .Lake Michigan c'n knock the Si ots
off this pond any time fur roughness. No
body ever sick out our way." The ladies
chorus, "Dear me. it isu't possible any one
could bo ill on this boat, is it now?'" I
think it's just too lovely for anything!"
The lawyer is oratorio about it, summing
up belore an invisible jury with invincible
"Now, sirs," and In, ary citations and prece
dents that settle the whole matter.' The
clergyman, bless him for his faith, fancies
"it's all merely a matter of the imagination."
While the man with the granite bead, brass
jaw aim Iron stomach closes the discussion
—and his meals at table, with the rest of
us, for a few days by an explosive, "Ail
nonsense, sit!" Have a stomach of iron
like me, sir!" But they are all done for
now, The dude is developing his "lying
wight dwown" theory; the ladies are gasp
ingly changing their adjectives; the packer
is comparing the peculiarities of lake and
pond ; the clergyman has a new study of the
pleasures of the imagination and the man
with the iron stomach is slipping its cogs
as helplessly as with the ordinary mortal
diaphragm. And so go the first days until
"the banks" are crossed. If you have
luckily bad your little battle at first, you
now sillier loneliness, and hunger lor soci
ety. There is not a siugle responsive gleam
of companionship in any face aboard-ship.
You become desperate.. You see a being In
blue and gold away out forward there. You
slide, slip and slide along up to it. The be
ing proves to be a ship's officer— first, sec
ond, third or somewhere along the line.
But it is alive, lias hearty jowls, a big
paunch, and hoping these bespeak genial
ity, you timidly address it
"Beg pardon, officer, but are these fogs
always to he found here on these banks?"
The being is a blue, gold and bronze statue
for a long, long lime. Finally, as you de
spair, and are about to turn away, its red
head suddenly turns quarter round, and you
involuntarily listen (or its click. Theu its
cavernous, coral mouth expands frightfully
while the being roars: _
" '0 w doIIT know '.' 111 doant bide cere."
You somehow feel like adjourning your
aboard-ship studies until the return of sunny
weather. kiiuak l. WAKI_XIA.\.
*COj_riullted.
TRIP.
ENGLISH COURT ETIQUETTE.
Hew Unwritten Customs Are Stronger
Tlnn Pablisfcrd Laws.
T^JTIQUETTE is the very life and
B-=".J-» health of a court. It is observed
Ijp*^ even in the arrangements of seats,
tin -each side of the small low dais,
intended exclusively for royally are
rows of chairs which, 1 was told, were
definitely and clearly assigned, not by law,
but by absolute although unwritten cus
tom, to the different orders in the social
3cale who accept the Queen's invitation.
No one but those prescribed might
occupy them. Thus on one side are
Duchesses and Marchionesses; on
the oilier Einbassadresses and the
ladies of the Corps Diplomatique. It was
my good fortune to witness a very pretty
and graceful little ceremony in connection
with these distinctions, when a young and
beautiful bride arrived, who, within the last
few months, had become a Dachau, This
was her first appearance at such at a court
ball, and she was making her way diffi
dently toward the position to which her
newly acquired rank entitled her when the
whole of the Duchesses present rose simul
taneously to greet tlieir sister-peeress, and
to receive her into their circle.
What makes the Court ball so well worth
seeing is the fact that almost everybody in
the room has some well-grounded claim to
distinction. My own, 1 will admit, was
but reflected luster, and I entered paradise
under the wing of others, like the rest of
the debutantes. But these others repre
sented all that is most notable and promi
nent in London. Social rank of all the
higher grades was fully represented, wealth
where it was associated with meritorious
money-getting, distinguished service to the
State, and high professional repute. Noth
ing proved this better than the bril
liant display of decorations, the
constellations of stars, crosses and medals,
all attesting the presence of every degree
of merit and every form of celebrity. Lit
tle less distinguished but from extreme
contrast was the plain, almost homely,
black dress suit of the American Minister,
who, of course, wore no decorations what
ever. He was the only man there thus
simply attired, the type of a great republic
which acknowledges no kind of distinction
but that of personal merit and perhaps, so
my father says, thinks more of such baubles
than the most aristocratic nations in the
world.— Murray's Magazine.
ri IB- MORNING* CALL, SAN FRANCISCO. SUNDAY. JULY 20. 1890-FOTJRTEEN PAGES.
I ■■ I ■■!■ ■ ~~~^ —^— ~— — —^~ — " ~ ——__————.—_—______________——_— . __ . ————.
THE FASHIONS
IN LONDON.
The Summer Frock as It Is Worn
in Old Merrie England.
Dress at a Tennis Tournament— Milliners Who
Are Hade to Contribute to Charity.
Low Bodices in Theaters.
Special to Tun Sunday Call.
T.X^OXDOX, July 8, 1890.— long sum
fiv* " ,er twilight is very sweet on the
______>* Thames. Before 3 in the morning it
is light and at 9 in the evening I am still
writing by an open window. The hawthorn
flowers have dropped from the hedges, but
everywhere the honeysuckle blossoms, not
least luxuriantly in the breast knots of the
bonny English lasses, for whom the season
of ruralizing is just about to begin. Some
of the bonniest of these lasses handled rac
quets at the tennis tournament at Richmond
a few days ago. A greater number of girl
players, I notice, are able to volley than
with us, and, whether equal to the over
hand service or not, English girls look won
derfully well while playing, tlieir larger,
more vigorous frames, deeper color and
heavy braids of Saxon hair, which some
times give them au awkward appearance as
contrasted with American delicacy and
grace in a drawing-room, coming out to best
advantage under the open sky and en the
green turf strewn with daisies.
Mi
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V /•- ; *^^S s *«i____JLI^Li^ ! 7v.
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At a Tennis Tournament.
The English dress for tennis is at once
pretty and suitable, with full skirt without
foundation and blouse, without turndown
collar fastened with ribbons. Miss Jack,
who is winning the championship matches
everywhere, wears a creamy brown serge
skirt with seven tucks in front and the
back in full gathers, a bunch of cream and
scarlet ribbons at the side and a second
bunch adorning tho little round sailor hat
which infests England in even greater num
bers than America, Royalties are often
distinguished from other people by the tact
that they do not dress as well, and so it
happened that the pretty Princess May,
daughter of the Duchess of Teck, who dis
tributed the prizes, wore a heavy brown
velvet frock and mantle, with a brown bon
net trimmed with old rose and gold— more
suitable, according lo any taste but a noble
British one, to midwinter than to days
when the hedge roses are flowering. •
Miss Genevieve Ward was among the
spectators in a frock of pale greeu wool,
with Medici collar aud a bodice that fas
tened under the arm, the small buttons con
tinuiug round the arnihole up the shoulder
seam to the neck. The sage green velvet
sleeeves were even higher on the shoulders
than Is the elevated New York custom, and
the black lace hat was trimmed with maid
enhair ferns. A blonde girl with the thick
est braid of yellow hair it lias ever been my
fortune to look on wore a gray serge frock
with gray velvet zouave jacket and white
waistcoat. Pink roses were pinned iv a
greal fragrant knot on her left shoulder.
The young English matrons look so cor
rect anil reserved that a Yankee glil would
surely call them prim. Their backs are
very straight, their waists too small for
their shoulders and hips, and their faces
rather long. When Miss Violet Piuckuuy
made one of her very har<i and low fore
hand drivers they would nod gravely in ap
probation of her neat style and say " Just
fawucy!" without excitement and without
a smile. A very good specimen of this
type who sat next me and lectured a rebell
ious young American on the other side of
her whom she was chaperoning wore a
good gown of cream nun's veiling, with
bauds of dark green velvet on the skirt.and
a full bodice with side pieces of the velvet
which came in a point to the front.
1 notice tnat a good many handsomo
black dresses are worn in London this
summer, and the zouave jacket is en evi
dence, heavily trimmed with passementerie.
One of the oddest things 1 have stumbled
on lately was a bazaar in a fashionable resi
dence iii aid of a boarding-out fund, a
transatlantic fresh-air fund for the East
End children. A group of royalties sold
flowers— the royalties are hard-worked over
here— but the thing I meant to characterize
as funny was a stall devoted to the salo of
millinery, half a doz»n of the besl Regent
street houses having been mulcted
politely iv the name of charity by their
best customers of their best hats and bon
nets. It suggests a new terror, doesn't it.
to the church fair?
!^^M^Am
*§£& ffiS-I H?SIS
'
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C"etv,™'»^- 5 * -:y^lm*
.*- — -
Summer Costume.
These fresh air hats and bonnets were
novel, and, as bazaar prices go, not dear.
One which a pretty American was easily
persuaded into buying was an excessively
smart little bonnet composed wholly of os
trich, tips mounted on an open shaped
edged with jet and provided with narrow
blue velvet strings. A black Leghorn hat
of a, poke shape, larger and more pro
nounced than is seen at home, was trimmed
with the deep red poppies which lend such
a warmth of color to the English fields.
Quite original and very fit for the piquant
girls of Dublin was a Connaught hat of
cream lace straw, rolled back from the
face in a half moon and trimmed with
a heather wreath and standing loops of
cream-colored ribbon. The laucy straw
hats one sees at garden parties are
most daring and bizarre, It was but yes
terday that I vexed my eyes for ten minutes
following the quips and turns of a small
thing in gray that stood up behind and lay
down on the sides, and hung further down
in front, and was withal only a handful of
lace straw platted to bold a mass of blue
morning-glories. Roses and * ribbons are
the favored bat garnitures, but few things
are especially noteworthy unless it be the
bridesmaids' hats at one or two of the fash
ionable weddings. These are about over
for the present, but I strayed into a church
yesterday morning, where hats of drawn
chiffon witb bunches ' of ' forget-me-nots
crowned three bright heads, while posies
of yellow roses aud lilies tied with blue and
gold ribbons were carried in the bands.
Ada Kehan must find it rather odd to
play to an audience of such extremely low
bodices. Granted that a pretty woman
looks her best when in evening costume,
sho bares her neck and arms, it remains
that the display must be . modest to be in
the least degree attractive, while the decol
lete corsage, as one sees it this season - in
London, is . not - infrequently '. vulgar,' and
occasionally, not to put too fine a point on
it, disgusting. I have not been in the habit
of thinking myself squeamish, * but in tho
boxes and stalls of London theaters it has
occurred to me to wonder why the police
were not called in to . put a stop to such
violations of common decency. The worst
offenders are the same young matrons who
at the races and the tennis matches are so
severe in the tailor gowns, so frozen, such
proper paragons.
Hyde Park is a wonderful place for the
display of parasols. The English girls have
a way that is rather pretty of knotting a
ribbon on tbe handle and then carrying one
long end un to the top of the stick aud
tying it there with another bow. Other
ribbons are twisted round the wires of the
frame, making a pavilion fluttering with
bright ends. ,The logic of all this adorn
ment, I fancy, Is the awkward length of the
parasol stick, which calls with a loud voice
for something to break its ugly line. Since
the woman who doesn't wear a black frock
is very apt to wear a white one, tho para
sol is red to go with either gown. It has
pinked flounces to edge its smart and fussy
petticoats and white or black hows, ac
cording to the toilet, near the handle. The
combinations of red and white aud red and
I l^f' '^V^fe^«__i] \/''W
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i^__.__§k*>'_ -
The Fashionable Long IValsU
black give much animation to the prome
nades. There is a close connection in this
rainy country between the weather and the
women's tempers. The summer thus far
lias been gloomy— l cut from a descrip
tion of a coaching meet this very English
sentence, "It was a fine meet, there were
but live showers," and it is hard to under
stand how courage is obtained for putting
on such light frocks that in a single after
noon arc more than likely to be spoiled.
I wonder if I have said thai I have seen
Miss Phllllppa Fawcett. who wears her
Cambridge honors still fresh upon her. She
looks a fair-complexioucd, rather timid girl,
with a bright face, not altogether at her
ease in society. Mrs. Oscar Wilde, whose
pink liberty silk a couple of years ago was
famous, is wearing this summer a frock of
art green mixed with black lace and green
feathers. Her favorite posy is stephanotis
mixed with ferns.
With the black and white frocks I ought
to have included yellow. It is everywhere,
and looks well as a landscape feature when
one does not connect it to close with any
particular woman. There is passing this
moment— it is not yet too dark for observa
tion woman in yellow beugaline toned
down with black velvet. Her bonnet is black
with rosettes of yellow.
The fashionable bodice reaches nearly to
the knees. The extremely long waists are
quaint on slender women, hut painfully ab
surd on those of generous proportions. E.
NEW AND NEAT.
Latest Designs in Fancy Articles
and Jewelry.
iyr/jMOXG the many povelties which
>fli_i "_ have been designed and presented
I\V* to the public are the following,
which are described by the Jewelers' Ke
view.
* » »
Sliver fillets are exceedingly becoming,
ono of late issue showing a succession ef
flenr-de-lys with moonstone centers.
* * »
Some new thermometer-holders of stained
ivory assume vegetable forms, of which a
recent specimen is a sweet potato.
* _: *
In the ivory stick of a new and attractive
fan nestles an enameled orchid, with a dia
mond sunk into its outer surface. . .
» * »
Bracelets have been devised in silver in
the I >mi of long French nails curved round
and held togetuer in the ceuter by small
padlocks.'
» » »
One of the latest fancies in brooches is
an oblong opal set across a gold bar, with a
double circle of diamonds surrounding the
opal. ,"~.
".•*-» *
A novel watch charm that is cropping up
anew is a copy of a quarter dollar, which,
when blown into from the edge, emits a
shrill whistle. •
* » *
A charming collection of new hair-pins of
sterling silver includes one topped by a
harp-like arrangement of slender wires in a
richly chased frame.
* * *
Another new fashion for which London
is reponsible is a broad velvet ribbon for
the hair upon wliich sparkle a trio of but
terflies encrusted with diamonds
* * *
The racing season has developed an ex
cellent selection of new chronographs, with
diamond ornamental backs, equipped with
split second and fly-back appliances.
»» » .
Colored pearls are the choice of many
and afford an interesting contrast when
worked in with harmonizing effecfwltb tho
glittering diamond, the lustrous sapphire or
the liery ruby.
**• - •
Original and artistic is a brooch made in
the form of a full-blown rose, which effect
is produced by skillful enemeling on gold.
In the heart of the llower may be seen dia
monds in raised settings, arranged in a
small circle and giving additional beauty to
the brooch.
** * .
A manufacturer lias just produced for a
fashion prince a snake ring of an original
character. The ring is of gold, mottled
with oval spots, and the belly of the reptile
is in yellow enamel, to represent to life the
ugly monster it is proposed to copy. A
blond-red ruby, set in the bead, brings the
price of the ring to au almost fabulous
lire. _
EPISODE OF IIIK HAT.
How a Pretty Woman Won n Voto of
1 11.-*,lkft ill -* Theiter.
ijr\/j STATELY and handsome exam
•-J*l'-^ pie of 'he well-bred young lady
JL'S*/ attended a theatrical first night
last week and occupied, with her es
cort, seats in the third row of the orches
tra, says the Philadelphia Tress. She was
so fair to look upon that a large share of
the audience watched her as she went down
the aisle and settled gracefully in a chair.
It was then observed, with much inter
est, that she raised her arms and detached
from her head the fashionable hat that be
came her so well. Her hair was bright
golden, and under the lights it fairly flashed
in its beauty. The old gentleman silting
behind her settled back comfortably in his
chair and congratulated himself that he had
been placed behind such a thoughtful
creature, for now he could not only see the
singe, but it splendid head of hair as well.
Presently two or three young women in
the immediate vicinity quietly removed
their bats, having noted the admiration
that the originator of the scheme had ex
cited.'
From this the movement spread until hat
less feminine heads were discoverable all
over tlie theater, even to the rear rows of
the circle. Between the acts a paper began
to circulate among the people in the or
chestra. '
Each gentleman as he received it read
something that had been written on it and
then smilingly signed his name, after which
he passed it to his immediate neighbor.
lv a few moments the paper came back to
the old gentleman that had started it on its
travels. Bending I forward, he politely ad
dressed the golden-haired girl, handing to
her at the same time the paper. She read
it, and as she did so a deep blush and a
smile crept over her face. The paper was a
vote of thanks, signed by thirty or more of
the male spectators. Its text was as fol
lows: .*■-.
•■■.." We, the undersigned, desire to express
our admiration for a most beautiful and
considerate young lady, name not known,
who, by removing her bat from ' her bright
golden bead, has set the fashion for others,
thereby rendering it possible for a di lighted
audience to witness the details of a stage
petal in "aw>Ki4*iK!_flu>' | iyit'iMllifl* l|^ln.'li |
• The pretty girl cast a radiant smile over
her shoulder at the old gentleman behind,
and, folding the paper, lucked it into the
frout of her dress by the side, of a bunch of *
pansics.' And everybody was very ■ happy. '
There was a pathetic scene In a Sixth-avenue
elevated train. - A di onsen man, lending a liltle
six-year-old boy, stumbled Into lh-- . rear car.
After Ihnliag seats he gradually leaned liuihei
and lurther over, uiilii lie lell asleep with bis
head ou the child's - lap, and eveiy few moments
the little fellow, wide awake al midnight, would
tint at bis father's coal < and say: "Please sit up,
papa." v .-- vj -
GOWNS FOR
SUMMER GIRLS.
They Can Wear Something That
Is Altogether Out of Common.
__•—-, ...... ,
A Choir Bobs and a Pretty Church Costume
Of Black Silk, Set With Plain Urfignrcd
Meshes— A Jaunty Bonnet.
Special to The Sunday Call,
I^TijEW YORK, July 7, IS9o.— When the
l-SUlk farming summer girl tires for an
g charming summer girl tires for an
ILtsl' hour or two of the regular round of
amusements and .'tings to do and be some
thing a little out of common she may betake
herself to church or chapel— to that little
St. Somebody's-by-the-Sea— and there, don
ning surplice and cassock, and the mortar
board of the collegiate don, she may be
come one of the vested choir, and with
sweet and stately gravity march in proces
sion, hymn-book in hand, and with such a
far-away, exalted expression in eyes and
lips that you could swear she, at least,
among fair maidens, could never stoop to
"frivol," and that "the world, the flesh"
and that formidable third party who goes
to make up the eminent trio could have no
place in her plan of life. Our illustration
shows her attired In her
iirJ-Pr ' mfmlft\
tr^riJffl f * I
W r%a*# HI
- . fW Wit I mM. In v
-*ilr IM III
i'i i Bai 1 ?«*> vv\ H"i 7 K
Ci.olr Hole.
A complete contrast to the picture pre
sented by her elder sister, of whom we
sp>>ak hereafter.
The other sketch shows the fair choris
ter's older sister in summer church-going
attire, as prescribed by Redfern.
-*racranri-— =. :
A Church Costume.
A Redfern church-costume is a gown of
black silk net with plain figured meshes,
and is made in polonaise style, with a very
slight draping on the left hip. The other
side of the skirt has a full trimming of
ribbon in long loops and ends. The bodice
has revers starting from the top of the
shoulder and spreading at the bust over a
shirred plastron of pale rose-colored mous
seiine de soie, nnd the sleeves from shoul
der to elbow are made of the same filmy
stuff and are gathered into deep cults of the
net. The jaunty little bonnet is of the net.
and is decorated with loops of ribbon and
a spray of wild roses, while the net parasol
is lined with the pink mousseiine and has
a Dresden knob on the end of the stick. A
wild rose pin iv pink enamel fastens the
collar. 11.
A NEW GERANIUM.
Some Advice to Those Who Cult i-
vate This Popular Flower.
TiN San Francisco there is scarcely any
\?t one who makes any pretentions to rais
in ing flowers, he it in elegant grounds or in
afew pots on a window ledge, but has some
variety of that pretty and popular flower,
the geranium. To produce new varieties
has been the aim of many floriculturists
and each new variety has been hailed with
delight by those who are anxious to secure
the new shades. In Vick's Magazine for
July is given the following description of a
new variety of the salmon shade called the
"Countess of Derby" aud some hints on the
training of geraniums:
The huge, round flowers, of good sub
stance, with their handsome salmon color
on a white ground, make this an attractive
sort. It is a dwarfish, compact grower, and
produces its flowers in a great abundance,
It is a good bedding variety, and especially
valuable as a specimen pot-plant It is iv
this form that the geranium, in its numer
ous varieties, holds the popular heart. It
is the window-plant par excellence. . And
what beautiful shows of geraniums are
often made in windows. Probably the best
effect in this way is produced by allowing
the plants always to face the light, and never
turning them. This gives the passer on
the street all the beauty of tho plants anil
flowers, while the grower has the- labor
of attention and thu satisfaction of con
tributing to others' pleasure. We like it
and it adds greatly to the appearance of a
house or apartment from the outside. But
while this mode of training the plants is de
sirable, we would have others trained as
specimen plants, that is developed equally
on every side, an object whicli can
be attained - only by exposing : the
plant to light on all sides. - A sym
metrically developed plant is the highest
form of cultivation and the highest test
of the . grower's art. . What deformities
one often sees in long-legged plants with a
tuft of leaves at the top of naked stems!
Can it be possible that those who care
enough for plants to tend and water them
can see any beauty in such specimens? Or
have they an eye only for the few poor
flowers tli.it such plants produce? As has
been already noticed, plants grown to pro
duce a certain effect, such as tlieir appear
ance from the outside of a window, or as a
mass in a bed, need have but little attention
given to their development as Individuals,
but when we want a handsome plant, forthe
plant's own beauty,' lileU 'we must attend
to its growth from its earliest to it? latest
stages. . As soon as tlie young plant enters
upiiii a vigorous growth the formation of
branches should be . undertaken and kepi
under control, and not be left to accident.
A little experience in pinching the ends of
growing shoots,- and thus checking them
and causine them to push out new branches
will show any oue how completely this mat
ter may be kept under control, and how wo
have; the < making . of * the plant in our own
bands. The beauty of the plant depends
upon a well-formed skeleton of branches,
and this we can regulate and shape. It re
quires about three years to produce a really
large, fine plant of geranium, and during all
this time and afterward its shaping must be
a work of care.
Some may object to such strict regulation
of the plant, and say that il is artificial and
we cannot in this way get a plant of nat
ural form. But it must be remembered
that the plant in a cultivated - state meets
with nothing but artificial conditions, and
it is a part of art to supply in some way the
requirements of the plant. In their native
habitats plants are subjected to winds, to
droughts, to low temperature aud to other
influences which hare a tendency to check
their growth. In our plant-houses and
windows we maintain, as much as possi
ble, an equable temperature and a moist
atmosphere, conditions which cause the
plant to grow continuously and tend to
make soft, sappy wood. Now, pinching
the ends of the shoots remedies this defect
to some extent, for it checks the growth,
causing the wood to become firm and tough,
while at the same time It makes new
branches start out. the same as they would
in a natural state if checked by elemental
means. A plant left to itself to develop,
standing among other plants, can only
grow upward. It is like a tree
in a forest, stretching up continually
toward the light. A tree develops- far
differently when standing out alone
than when surrounded by others in a forest,
and its true, natural form cau be seen only
when it has grown out in the open. So,
then, in taking our plaut and causing it to
develop its branches on all sides, although
the means are artificial, the result is nearer
that which nature would produce under the
best conditions. The best development of
the individual plant is the highest achieve
ment of cultivation. As to bloom, that will
be sure to come when the plant is healthy
and thriving, and there should be no anxi
ety to hasten this stage.
GATHERED GEMS.
Complied (or The Sunday Call.
TX^l'-T us Gather up the Jewels— gems ul wisdom
Mr-^A here ;;nU there,
IrVyrtiat have railed from pens of sagos— prophets,
*tmvtf heroes everywhere:
Wove them Into chains of beauty, that their luster
may he seen, .
While the memory of the writers In our hearts keep
Iresh ami green.
The best education in the world is that
got by struggling to get a living.— Wendell
Phillips.
Sometimes a noble failure serves the
world as faithfully as a distinguished suc
cess. — Dow den.
Knowledge is the only fountain both of
love and the principles of human liberty. —
Daniel Webster.
All passions are good when one masters
them; all are bad when one is a slave to
them. Rousseau.
For one man who can stand prosperity,
there are a hundred who will stand ad
versity.—Carlisle.
1 canunnt regard wealth as a blessing to
those who uso it simply as a harvest for
this world.— George Eliot.
Every good ait is charity. A man's true
wealth hereafter is the good that be does in
this world to bis fellow man. — Mohammed.
The true test of civilization is not the
census nor the size of the cities nor the
crops— uo, but the kind of men the couutry
turns Emerson.
The supreme happiness of life is the con
viction that we are loved— loved for our
selves ; say rather, loved in spite of our
selves.—Victor Hugo.
Defer not charities till death, for cer
tainly if a man weigh it rightly, he that
doth so is rather liberal of another man's
than his own.— Bacon.
Every man is dishonest who lives upon
the unpaid labor of others, no matter
whether he occupies a tin one or lives in a
poor-house.— Colonel Ingersoll.
Teach self-denial and make its practice
pleasurable, and you create for the world a
destiny more sublime than ever issued from
the brain of the wildest dreamer.— Walter
Scott.
Put your foot down where you mean to
stand, and let no man move you from the
right. Learn to say "No," and it will be of
more use to you than to be able to read
Latin.— Spurgeon.
We cannot overestimate the fervent love
of liberty, the intelligent courage and the
saving common sense, with which our fath
ers made the great experiment of self-gov
ernment.— field. '_:."..
Temperance puts wood on the fire, meal
in the barrel, flour in the tub, money in the
purse, credit in the country, contentment in
the house, clothes on the back and vigor in
the body.— Franklin.
If you would realize a higher form of reli
gion you must first broaden the horizon of
woman's thought, and give us an active in
terest in all the principal affairs of life.—
Elizabeth Only Stanton.
Far away there in the sunshine are my
highest aspirations. I cannot reach them,
but I can look up and see their beauty,
believe in them, and try to follow where
they lead.— Louise M. Alcott
We want to grow toward greater perfec
tion in all the departments of life. We
want higher types of government, jtister
systems of industry and nobler patterns of
the household and the home.— W. U. Salter.
'I here is only one cure for the evils which
newly acquired freedom produces, and that
cure is freedom. If men are to vt ait for
liberty till they become wise and good in
slavery.they may indeed wait forever.— Lord
Macaulay.
It was the policy of the good old gentle
man to make his children feel that home
was the happiest place in the world; nud
1 value this delicious home feeling one of
the choicest gifts a parent can bestow. —
Washington Irving.
There is nothing so delightful as the
hearing and speaking of truth. For this
reason there is no conversation so agree
able as that of the man of integrity, who
hears without any Intention to betray, aud
speaks without any intention to deceive.—
i'lato.
The human race Is but a monotonous
affair. Host of them labor the gieater part
of their time for mere subsistence; and the
scanty portiou of freedom which remains to
them so troubles them that they use every
exertion to get rid of it. Oh, the destiny of
man!— Goethe.
Who are the men whom the world de
lighteth to honor? Certainly nut the mill
ionaires. The world is not at the trouble
of preserving a catalogue of their names —
"the rich man died and was buried"; what
more has society to say about bim?— ll.
Stowell Drown.
The entire object of true education is to
make people not merely do the right things,
but enjoy the right things; not merely in
dustrious, but to love industry; not merely
learned, but to love knowledge; uot merely
pure, but to love purity; not merely just,
but to hunger and thirst alter justice.—
Luskin.
Good men, you know, pay all the taxes of
bad men. Virtuous men pay the Statelbills
of dissipated men. Patriotic men pay all
the war bills of unpatriotic men. citizens
that stay at home pay the expenses of poli
ticians that go racketing about the country
and do nothing but mischief. Ward
Beecher.
Life is made up of little things, in which
smiles and kindness given Habitually are
what win and preserve the heart aud secure
comlort.
Obi what a glory doth this world put on
. For him who wiih ;. fervid in-art forth
tinier the bright and glorious sky, and looks
On dunes well pot-farm and days well spent.
— Longfellow.
It is an old saying that charity begins at
home, but this no reason it should not go
abroad; a man should live with llie world
as a citizen of the world; he may have a
preference for the particular quarter or
square, or even alley, in which he lives, but
fie should have a generous feeling for the
welfare of the whole.— Cumberland.
A man may bo heroic in tbe truth ; and if
he believes things only because bis pastor
says so, or the assembly so determines,
without knowing other reason, though his
belief be true, yet the very truth lie holds
becomes his heresy. There is not any bur
den that some would gladlier put off to an
other than the care and charge of their
religion.— John Milton.
You may live simple, manly lives, speak
ing your own thought, paying your own
way, and doing your own work, whatever
that may be. You will remain aentlemen
as long as you : follow these rules, if you
have to sweep a crossing for your liveli
hood. You will uot remain gentlemen in
anything but the name if you deport from
them, though you may be set to govern a
kingdom. — Thomas Hughes.
Sttt. Francisco, July, 1.90. DWLMA Dusakne.
. m ■
A Short Will nnil Itic Estate.
The will of Alexander Thompson was ad
mitted to probate recently by. Surrogate
: Adlington of Rochester, X. Y. Consider
ing the fact that the deceased had an estate
of $800,000 to dispose of, bis last will and
testament is one of extraordinary brevity.
It reads as follows:
: I, Alexander Thompson, of Rochester, Monroe
Comity, N. V., do make and decline this to be
my last will and testament, heieby revoking all
former wills made by nie. 1 give, devise and
bequeath all my estate, bo, teal and personal,
to my wile, Helen It. Thompson, anil 1 hereby
appoint my ancle. John 11. Adams ot Kochest-r,
aforesaid, executor hereof, lv witness whereof
I have heieuiuo subscribed my name ami affixed
my seal this HOUi day of November. 1887. s. •
>. •;.;■*'■ Alexander Thompson.
—Rochester Post-Express.
■ Where Louis ,|,,.|,..,ii Died.
Ichabod— The 1 "famous historic mansion
called Camden Place," which sheltered the
Third Napoleon '-'- in : his broken - fortunes,
where be received those who ! from i time to
time ': came J over to * pay. their fealty, and
where he finally died, has been sold iv j ove
lot, as an I estate for building purposes. —
Loudon World. Xv : Wim
LITERATURE
OF ROSES.
Almost Every Age Pays Us Trib
ute to Their Beauty.
The Bese Had Its Dark Days in History.
Drenched W.th B ood— Poets Have Sang
Its Praises— A Symbol of Fusion.
-TP- HE literature of almost every nation
VI ■ft? aud every ago pays tribute to the
jljs rose. No sovereign has held a wider
or more undisputed sway than has that
queen of flowers, writes L. H. Todd in the
Detroit Free Press. From north to south
and Irom east to west, wherever warmth,
sunshine and cool breezes mingle, she
chooses her own domain.
Milton tells us of the rose In Eden.
Through the centuries China and Japan
have cultivated it with a care born of love,
and to-day we reap the benefit in the choice
varieties of monthly, tea aud hybrid per
petual roses.
The Caucasian mountains contribute the
cabbage rose so intimately associated with
memories of many a pleasant New England
homestead. From the south of France the
liquid fragrance of the same rose comes to
us in the form of rose water.
Iv some parts of India large fields are In
one rose garden. The flowers are gathered
in the early morning, ail sparkling and
shimmering with dew. We receive the
distilled essence of their beauty in the
precious attar of rose*, one article of mer
chandise surely well fitted to conic from
that laud of dreamy languor.
In Syria, Egypt and Palestine the wild
rose of Jericho does all in its power to
make the desert bloom. Hut Persia is
especially the land of the rose. A day is
set apart and a festival held in its honor.
Ihe love given to it elsewhere is lukewarm
compared to tbu adoration there.
The wild rose of our own land makes a
piuk beauty by the gray roadsides, gener
ously giving out its fragrance, but with
sharp thorns repelling alike friend and en
emy. Its pampered sisters of the conserva
tory show their
LUXURIANT GRACES
With a more placid mem. heirs is not
the resistance taught by poverty. Their
destiny is lo minister to the rich. They
are love's offering. They decorate the bath
room, preside over the marriage ceremony,
and brighten the shadows in the som ber en
vironments of death. Thorns— they have
no need of them.
The rose is as old as literature. In tho
mythology of Greece and Home its legends
find a place. Chaplets of roses adorned its
deities, ln the wonderful marriage song of
the Hebrew King the bride was likened to
the rose of __haron. Among the ancient
Unmans the rose was the emblem of silence.
Wreaths were hung in the apartments at
private meetings or entertainments, thus
intimating that whatever transpired was
not to be told in public. The phrase "sub
rosa," told under the rose, perpetuates the
idea to-day. ;
c
He laid the rose of silence on her lips
And pi) ly went bis way,
Where lour the orient sua lv splendor dips
lis fervid, uuruliiK ray.
She waiteu in the cottage by tbe wood,
'the rose died perhaps it understood.
Years passed, a weary man with furrowed cheeks
Kneels by a narrow luuund;
.No trictid is there to ask fur whom he seeks,
Or why tbat grief profound.
Her lovely eyes are closed in death's eclipse,
Ills rose of silence laid upon her lips.
In following out the literature there is
one thing especially noticeable. It is the
fact that, although the masters of song,
from the earliest times, have tried their skill
in weaving graceful words in honor of the
flower, there is, after all, comparatively lit
tle variety in what has been written. All
have touched so nearly the same strings
roses and fair woman's cheeks; roses
washed in dew; the blush of roses; the
rose as a queen. A single quotation, beau
tiful in itself, will show the usual current
of thought:
Crimson Is its hue.
And un Its breast the morning's crystal dew
Is changed to rubies.
--IT IS __t_-_-X THE SAME IDEA,
Whether expressed with the quaintnessof a
Chaucer or Waller, the flowing muse of
Moore, the exquisite beauty of Keats or
even the versatility of Shakespeare. The
poets who live through the ages .strike the
chord which vibrates in the beart of the
youth who spends his quick breath, as be
grasps his pen determined to bring out
something worthy of his Mary Jane, and
finally evolves :
The rose is red and so are yon.
Poor roses, were they possessed of the
power of protest, how often would they
use 111 '.
One of those who have best entered into
the heart of the rose and reads its most se
cret thoughts is Philip Bourke Slarston, the
blind poet. In his "Garden Secrets" he de
vote.-. himself to tho interpretation of roses
and lilies, and very beautiful are bis inter
revelatious. In his blindness, sounds and
colors seemed to impart new meaning. The
following stanza is from "The Huse and the
Nightingale": .'-.:.■
Said the singer to the roses.
Love for you in:. song discloses.
Hence the note ot grief It borrows."
Quoth the Hosts: M Love means pleasure."
Quoth the Singer: " Love's best measure
Is its pure attendant sorrows."
Moore's "Last Huse ol Summer" - makes
sad melody in many hearts, and lias done
more to keep his memory green than have
his elaborate poems.
The rose is to-day the emblem of love and
beauty, rather than of scenery. In a few
line lines Scott gives yet auother significa
tion to the dog rose:
Oh, wilding rose, whom fancy thus endears,
I bid your blossoms in my bonnet wave.
Emblem or hope and love through future years.
A little blind girl found a thought for the
roses which others had missed. Her words
are perhaps ci ude, but for tbe thought's
sake they are worth repeating:
If this delicious, grateful flower,
Which blooms but for one single hour,
Miould to the sight as lovely be.
As from its fragrance seems to me,
A sign must then its co.or show, .
lor that's the softest Joy 1 know,
And sure tbe rose Is like the _>1,-u,
Born just to soothe, and then to die,
SAIVT S-EATrrrrTT. LEGENDS
Are told of tho rose. One of the origin of
the moss rose is given in the German. An
angel, whose duty it was to bathe the young
buds in dew, slept beneath the shade 'of a
ruse tree. Grateful for the shelter, she
offered to confer upon it any. favor which
the rose would choose. It asked another
grace. The puzzled angel wondered what
grace that flower had not. At last in a
moment of inspiration, it threw over it a
covering of moss.
And robed in nature's simplest weed. •*
Could there a llower that rose exceed ?
Withered roses have a literature of tlieir
own. in the fictions of the day they have
been found in secret drawers, in cabinets
and over broken hearts. They have soft
ened natures and brought up bitter memo
ries. A withered rose has beeu the talis
man by which some knightly lover has
beeu incited to deeds of valor.
A touching story is told of Puritan times
which has all the sadness of truth. A noble
Duke loved the daughter of oneof his peers
and sued for her hand. Put the young girl
had given her love to Isaac Johnstone and
came with lier outlawed lover to the drear
New England shore, where unaccustomed
hardships brought speedy death.
The Duke never married, but at his
death, years after, there was found next
his heart a ease containing a withered rose,
given him by the one woman he had loved.
The rose has had dark days in its history.
It has been drenched in blood. For thirty
long years its name was the signal for deeds
of violence nud devastation. Perhaps there
never was a more bitter contest than En
gland's "war of the roses," uever greater
joy than when in the marriage of Henry of
Lancaster and Elizabeth of York there was
celebrated the union of the white rose with
the red, and with that union peace.
"A SEiIIIOSETTE."
This la * Brief llarnocun to Those Who
Are Glveu to Slang.
PpiIIIS "sermonette" is especially for
•IK you ' dear girls. The advice could be
uVv put in three words— Don't do It. Pos
sibly there might come ;an occasion— say
once in a lifetime— when a good round bit
of the genuine article ".slang" would prove
funny. . But to hear vulgar words used by
a gentle girl is almost invariably shocking.
I remember passing two girls in the street
and hearing one of them say, "I'll bet you
a quarter.". It gave me a shiver. And
when a group of school-girls fill their con
versation— as,* alas! they often ■ do — with ;
one slang phrase after another, the effect
on an outsider is painfully disagreeable. -
The habit of talking slang grows rapidly.
It is like reporting a bit of scandal. *■• Have
yon never noticed if you say an unkind
word : against a : neighbor, how quickly a
chance comes •to say -another ? i And with
just : that r same appalling ease a habit of
using >; careless • coarse . words increases.
Weeds grow rapidly.
There is plenty of good strong English to
give expression to wit, drollery, indigna
tion or sympathy, without recourse to the
phrases ■. .which • belong to horse-jockeys,
gamblers, tipplers and vagabonds, The
street Arab picks up slang as he does the
ends of old cigars from the gutter. • Surely a
well-bred girl is not on the same level In her
speech and manner. Why should she use
vulgar words any more than she would stain
her hands?
There ought to be something akin to
flowers in a fresh young girl. She need
nut be prudish nor priggish. No nno wishes
her to say "prunes and prisms" to coax
her lips into the proper curves. But re
fined and dainty in speech as well as in
dress, she surely ought lobe. Wont you
please think about it for five minutes, and
see if you do not agree with me?— Mart
S. MoCoBB, in Harper's Young People.
A CHILD'S QUEER SLEEP.
How a Cyclone Affected a Pennsylvania
Girl.
jfil/j STRANGE case is puzzling every-
Jtl jj body at Franklin. I'a., physicians
MfcMjj included. It is seemingly the result
of the cyclone that passed over Victory
township May 10th. Since the day of the
disaster, says the Washington Star, one of
the Weltcn children has slept every other
three days. For three days and nights im
mediately after the disaster the child did
not sleep a wink, then she went to sleep and
remained so for three days, all efforts to
arouse her proving vain. No amount of
noise or even pinching while In these
sleeps disturbed her in the least. When
her arms are placed in any position they
will remain so until changed by some cause
or other than that which comes from her.
The muscles will hold the body in any posi
tion placed, even tc delicate feats of bal
ancing. When the child awakes from these
spells she declares she heard the rushing
of the winds and the smash and crash of
the trees and bouse just as they sounded
on the day of the disaster, and that she
plainly sees them as they were huddled to
gether when the storm struck their home.
A number of physicians have examined
her, but cannot account for these strange
spells. When awake the child seems to en
joy good health, eating, playing and doing
chores about the place the same as before
thus attacked.
PAVING THE PIPER.
■■(',—^-i.' -,)v*o ee.
1 1 1 ft^f i s i j
111! taltll
■l_M^__^^_fei?
I XCsSj-xX '
>tW:«^irt--je, igs "SW-jieTC •* l
•~iiia^ ,, ,i,Jf k *-^_-
"Now, Jack, I'm going to enjoy one of
those Perfeetos."
.-a tu %i b-^-.t e b fj
\ S H S -?-■' fi S H
I «: w-5-tr ?X § § f
juyL§x*w--ij_
— i — ffiP-fc^S^/yvh —
w, "***'*i^
•*^'" ! 3^*xjr i? _i$^* 1 ■ J *~"
JW ''if^5«'*.*''''VA
"Say, me boy, that Perfecto smells like a
shipyard afire."
e I i fix?i j i i
* J n h {"• *^~tj m if i l
- — xx /-=^-=--*-.
M]p"^^lM?
.****« i**g "(kkt-i^i I _818S_"
"'Tis rank, isn't HI"
'-■■';
* mm ' j*****-.
TpX|Tf|
L_=r >G-^S-S__ _L
'^EOiS? 3 * - ?**K55Jffi5*-*i
'There's another quarter thrown away!"
* if Xk_< V »?
.k.tvif.-*-. '
..* vWa..,.
"Say, Jack, we wronged that cigar."
The Growing Crop* of Tens.
. The crop reports compiled by the News
are by far the most favorable and encour
aging that have ever I been Issued by it at
this season of the year. The reports are
thorough and complete, covering the entire
cotton-producing areaof the State. Almost
without exception the correspondents note
an increase in acreage varying from 5 to 25
per cent - and averaging about 10 . per
cent. The -. plant Is about ten days later,
though Its condition is uniformly good and
the farmers are well up with the work of
cultivation. The delay in development was
caused by the heavy rains early this montb,
but no other damage was done than to im
pede farm work. At present the growing
crop promises to be one of the largest ever
raised In the . State. - and :. if no serious
changes take place in the situation these
promises will; be fulfilled. The condition
of coru, oats and wheat, while not so favor
able as that of cotton, is very good, and
there is no indication at preseut that the
yield of each will not bo fully up to the
i usual standard,— Galveston News.
13
