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The news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1901-1982, April 12, 1905, Image 6

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Persistent link: https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/2012218612/1905-04-12/ed-1/seq-6/

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UN MY
In my dreams I often hear them, h
From the hillside, from the red
Have you left us altogether? (some
Is it really .true, old fellow. you
In my dreams I often see them. se
On the hillside, on the red road.
A.nd my lips would fain give answ
But a mocking spirit whispers,
In my dreams I often see it. see
With the briar scented breezes
Nothing great, nor grand, nor gal
Just a kind of way back tavern i
And I often hear the voices of the
Kind of little shadow children in
And I ;tuess that they are waiting
And the dear old loony bullocks
Shadow plains roll out before me
And I hear the yelping brindle- a
And, anon, a shadow figure by the
And I note the look of longing
Must the dreamer go on dreaming
Must he wake to tind the vision
God! who fashioned all things per:
Seeping somewhere in the range
LIBBY, I
BRBY ANDERSON hung
the disheloth on its accus
L f tomed nail, and stood there
surveying it. it was plain,
from the way she looked,
wat she was determined to speak.
"Ma," she asked of the woman who
was sitting before the little round
stove, "what were those papers Dave
put in his pocket as I came in?"
"Some thiags he was showin' me."
"Ma," she asked. quiveringly, "you
din't sign anything, did you?"
"I didn't sign your name to any
thing." And the needles clashed again.
She knew her mother too well to
press further.
"I just couldn't understand Dave
-coming here this time of year," she
ventured; "and I thought be acted
-queer."
The old woman was folding her knit
ting.
"rm going to bed. and you'd better
-come along, too," was her reply.
A week went by, and although Libby
bad twice forgotten to feed the chick
ens, and had several times let the ket
tle burn dry, she was beginning to feel
more settled in her mind.
She did up her -work one morning and
went to town.
Her first call was at the solicitor's.
and there she heard the worst. Mia
bad assigned their home to Dave. She
-did not make any fuss: she was too
old-fashioned for hysterics.
It was not until the old place came
in sight that she broke down.
"It's not fair," she cried out, "when
rye stayed here and worked-it's not
fairl" And, for the first time in many
.years, she was crying-passionately
-crying.
It 'was a feeling of outraged justice
that made her speak. for she was just
a woman-the daughter of pa.
"Mia," she said, "do you think pa
would like to think of your assigning
the place to Dave, 'when I've stayed
here and kept it up the best I could
. for twenty years?"
The old woman put down her knit
'ting.
"La, now, Libby.", she said. not un
kindly, "don't take on. You'll never
want for nothin'"
L~ibby stood there looking at her.
"'I think you don't realize what
-you've done," she said; and turned to
.the bedroom to take off her things.
It was not until the next month, the
blustering month of MIarch, that all
was made clear. It 'was early in the
afternoon when Libby looked from the
window and saw a man coming in at
the big gate.
"That friend of Dave's from the city
is coming, ma," she said.
"Gracious!" exclaimed MIrs. Ander
son, "and such a day as 'tis'"
The stranger warmed his hands. and
disbursed a number of pleasantries.
"Well, MIrs. Anderson." he said fin
ally, "your son wants me to make a
little proposition to you."
Mrrs. Anderson looked pleasantly ex
peetanut.
"D~ave's always makin' propositions,"
she chuv'kled.
"-He's been a good deal worried about
y-ou this winter-afra id you were not
just comfortable out here'-you two, all
alone."
"Dave's always thinkin' of his moth
er's c'omfort.' she asserted: and looked
triumiphantly over to Libby.
"Well." he resumed. turning back to
the older wonanl. "it worries Di , e to
think of your being out here alone now
that you're getting alo':g in years. so
be's rented a nice lite place in town.
and he feels s'ie it wotuld be better
all around I~ you'd just go in and take
"ir that ain't for all the world like
175Dtve:-a lways some n~ew idea in his
head. Bunt you just tell him, Mir. 3Mur
rny, not to be bothering. We don't
want to mo're to town-do we. Libby?"
"oifwe c'an hellp it." she replied.
"Dave's hcen away~ f'rm the place so
long il:at he don't see jshw'tis,"
mna explained. "Libby and me
~wouldnt feel at home no place else."
' "It's too had you feel that way," he
'w'nt on persuasively. "for Dav-e wtas
so surea you'd like the idea that he's
gone ahtead and made' all arrangements.
:and I'm afraid there miight be a little
troubie about unmaiking them."
Hie turned to Libby.
"Hlow soon do you think you could
Dnove? ByV the 1st of Many'"
"I suppose so," she answered, in a
duil voice.
the oid un'mani wat'eed the white ;:ive
way' to lh' -:reen on th~e hills that
curved inl anid out around her Old home.
-\s Im:t as she (''uld. Liib lv et her
hazve lher' i:-em. Her- he~art was not
hardO towvard ama nowv. \Ia had niot un
dierstood. And Libby was glad she
:: yae those fe-w spin day11 s be
feshE- was torn fr'om the old home.
.lia." l began ae morning. "I
thinkt I will have to he~ patrlinig up this
''Pa -king up what?'
-"Wiy. don't you remember, ma, we're
going to town the 1st of Mlay?"
"Oh, Ia. Libby. I've give that up lone
ago I'm goin~ to die on the old
DREAMS.
yar the far off voices calli- l
road, from the rollin wa-ste 0: plam;
onie t u.du in the townsm)
wil :iot come back again.'
e the shdow people waiting
on the rolling waste of plai:
er somethiinhopenil. if not certain,
You shall not return again.
:he dear old shanty standing.
laying round the open door;
idv. but a quaint o'dwooden buumng, *
Lid a sort of way back store.
sturdy station children,
the Middle of the road;
for the teamster and his wagon
with their precious border load.
with a mob of cattle charging,
i she turns them on the rise;
old slip nanel waiting,
nd the'sorrow in her eyes.
what ;he fickle goddess pictures?
a ll too seldom what it seems?
e ct, g rant that one day you will find me
with the shadows of my dreams.
-Pall Mall Gazel te.
~ 0
rHE.'
-k0 0O O 0 a on
0@
"But you know, ma, the arrange
nients have all been made. I'm afraid
w'll have to go."
She turned to her crossly.
"There's no use to argue wi' me,
Libby Anderson. I ain't goin'!"
"But what about Dave,"
"You -an jest write Dnve, and say
his mother don't want to leave the.
place. Dave won't havenothin' further
to say."
She looked off at the meadowland as
if it were all settled. Libby would
have to tell her.
"Ma." she said, "it's no use to write
to Dave."
"Why not?" she demanded, in a half
frightened, half-aggressive voice.
"He's sold the place. ma!"
"What's that you say? Something
about Dave selling my place? Are you
gone crazy, Libby?"
"You know you -deeded it to him,
ma. It was his i,.ter you did that.
And he's sold it, and we'l have to
move out."
Hearing no answer, she turned
around, and it was then she coyeted
Dave's gift of saying things smoothly.
The old woman was crouched low in
her chair, and her face was quivering,
and looked sunken and gray.
"I didn't think he'd do that," :.e fal
tered.
"Never mind, ma." Libby said awk
wardly. "Poor ma!"
It was the nearest to a caress that
had passed between them since Libby
was a little girl.
Nothing more was said until after ma
had gone to bed. Libby supposed she
was asleep, when she called quaver
ingly to her.
"Libby." she said, "you mustn't be
thinkin' hard of Dave. He must have
thought it for the best."
Libby was used to caring for ma,
and she needed care now.
"Yes, ma," she answered; "I'm sure
he must"
It was not until the morning of the
fourth day that the silence between
them was broken. Libby got up to
take down the clock, when she heard
a strange noise behind her, and, turn
ing, she saw that ma's head was down
low in her hands, and- she w as rock
ing passionately back and forward, andt
crying as though her old heart had
broken.
She put down the clock, and again
she wished for a little of Dave's silki
ness of speech. But she did not have
it, and the best she could do was to
pull ma's chair out from the barren
room out into the sunshine of the
porch. The hills, she thoug'- t, would
still look like home.
Ma did not get up at all next day.
Perhaps she was ill, or perhaps it was
only that she did not want 10 go out
in the sitting room and see how un
like home it looked. But the next day
she did not get up either, and then
Libby went to town for the dcetor. lHe
said the excitement had weak cned her.
and did not seem v'ery cer'tain she
would ever get up again. That niaht
Libby wrote a letter to Daxe. askingI
him again to let 'ais mother die oni the
old place. A w.eek passed, and an mn
swer had not come, and still ma had
not left her bed. The packir g was al'
dlone, it was the 1st of May, and she
was just waiting-she did aot know
for what.
Her whole saul rose up agt.ins: may
'ng ma from the old place now. when
h etr days were so surely niunthered;
and so she sent a telegram to Daive,
telling him his mother wa ill, and
asking leave to stay a little longrer.
There camne a reply from his part ner.
saying thet Dave wasa away, and w.ould
not be home for two week's.
That night the old1 wvoman :aiscd her
self and sobbed out the truth.
"It's Dave that's killn' me: It's to.
think Dave sold the place, a nd turned
me out to die:'
And then the way opened before
Libby. and she saw her path.
The disinhecrited child wrote a letter
that night, and to it she signed her
brother's name. Out in the world they
might h-ive applied to it an ugly word.
but Libby was only caring for ma. She
was a long time about it, for it was
hard -to put things in Dave's round.
bold hand, and it was hard to say them
in his silky way.
The doctor said next morning that it
was a matter of hut a few days at
most, for ma was much worse.
"It ain't that I'm goin' to die," she
said, when Libby came in a'nd foundl
her' cry'nz: "but I was thinkin' of
Dave. I keep thinkin' and thinkin' of
him when he was a little boy, and how
lie used to run about the place, and how
pretty hi' used to look; and then, just
as I b2gin to take a little comfort in
re'meme-rin' some of the smart things
he said, I have to think of what he
has dione, and it does seem like he
ni::ht have waited till--" B~ut the
wvordcs were too bitter to be spoken.
and. with a hard. scraping sound in her
throat, she turned her face to the wall.
Libby put her hand to something in
her pocket, and thought of last night's
work with thankfulness.
About 11 o'clock she entered the
room with the sheets of a letter in her
"Ma," she said. tremulously, 'Tnere's a
etter just come from Dave."
"I knew it'd come-I knew it!" And
he old. voice filled the room with its
riumphant ring. Then therp crept
nto her face an anxious look. "What
loes he say?"
"He's sorry about selling the place,
na. He really thought you'd like it
letter in town. But he's fixed it up
or us to stay. He says you'll never
2ave to leave the place."
"I knowed it-I knowed it well
nough! You don't know Dave like I
lo. But read me the letter."
She did read it, and the old woman
istened with tears-glad tears now
alling over her withered cheeks.
"You can just unpack our things,"
;he cried, when it was finished, "and
et this place straightened out. The
dea of your packin' up, and think we
vas goin' to more to town! Nice mess
ou've made of it! Jest as if Dave
vould hear of us leavin' the place. I
dways knowed you'd never 'preciated
)ave."
Before morning broke ma was dead.
lappy, because she had back her old
'aith in Dave-the blind, beautiful
aith of the mother in the son. And:
ibby-the homeless and unloved
Uibby-was happy, too3, for she had
inished well her work of caring for
na.-London Answers.
EN TI FIC'.
Here's a wrinkle for melon raisers.
. French farmer near 'Marseilles has
isovered that by "watering" his mel-:
ns with milk they will grow to twice
heir ordinary size. He carries off all
he melon prizes at local agricultural
els.
When the electrification of the rail
vays which run underground in Lon
on is completed the traveler will be
tble to traverse sixty miles under
round by electric traction without
unning twice over the same piece of
rack.
A gutta-percha and rubber manu
acturing company of Toronto has
nade a belt for a grain elevator at
t. Johns which is one of the largest
-ver produced. It is of rubber, and
easures 3259 feet. Its weight is
ie tons.
achinists and iron workers are
reatly intercsted in the discovery of
he art of welding cast iron, which W.
. and L. B. Schaap, of Loveland, Col.,
laim to have made. J'hey declare that
he compound which they have invent
d also will braze aluminum as sue
essfully as borax will braze steel.
An institute for cancer investigation,
o be in the :mmediat~e vicinity of the
eademy Hospital at Heidelberg. will
e begun soon, and its completion is
pected in the spring of 1906. It will
'e the first large institution of its kind
a Germany, and pro bably in Europe.
rhere scientific investigation will be
ombined with treatment of patients.
Any one who can operate a typewrit
r can transmit messages by the $1ur
ay system of high-speed telegraphy,
rhich the British postal officials have
seen testing. It resembles, in some re
pects, the Wheatstone system. The
aessage is first perforated on a tape,
a a machine resembling a typewriter. ,
Vhen the perforated tape is run.
hrough a transmitter, a facsimile of
he tape is produced at the receiving
tation. and this, upon passing through
n autoniatic typewriter, becomes a
rinted message in ordinary letters.
Carlo Baese, of Florence. has invent
d a process of producing bas-rcliefs
my photography. The basis of ue in
ention is the property possessed by a
im of chromium gelatin of swelling
a proportion to the intensity, so that
he light passing through a photo
iaphic negative produces upon a
hromium-gelatin plate a positive in
istinct relief. The transparency of a
dinary negative. howvever, is nlot only
roportional to the relief of the orig
nal model, but by an ingenious auto
natie device, involving a double ex
>osure, this diflicuity is navoided. and
ne('ative is obtained having its lights
md shades corrtectiy graded to produce
he ect cf relief.
'Tersely Put.
Bobby has just reached English com
m.itionl in his school. and. his fathe
s a newspaper man, who prides hi:
self on his 'oncise style. Bobby came
:ome from school the other day:. in highi
lee because his teacir had priaisedi
ls composition on G;eorg~e Washing
on. Hie showed the production to is
ather with pride, but was somewha
restfallen at his palrent's criticism
'Too many words, my son. T1oo mar y
ords altogether. Why can't your
eacrs instruct you how to exp:'ess
-our' ideas tersely? Now, just sit down
it that table, take this p'neil, cut out
ivery vord you can spare without
aving out a single idea, and if your
nother dloes not agree with me that the
:mt is better than this composition
hich your teacher praises, I'll give
zou half a dollar." The ind took the
>ncil and fell to work. while his
ather read the paper. After a long
:ime Bobby b)rought the heavily scored
manuscipt to binm, sauying: "It was
iard work to keel) in somethinig onl
avery one of the things Washington is
ramous fo-, dad, hut I guess 1 did it."
l'his is how the result recad:
"George Waishinlgtonl became the
ather of His Country because lie had
no little boy of his own to whiip for
:utting down cherry trees, and lie is
emarkabe among American states
men because he would not tell a lie."
amma awarded the half-dollar to
Bobby.-New York Tribune.
Defects in Fog signaing.
The present arrangements for fog
ig::alling are antiquated and out of
tochi with the requirements of the
times. While perfectly satisfactory
for the more leisurely working of rail
aays prevalent during the seventies
of last century, they are not adopted
o the ideas of working and time
keeping held by the business depart-.
ments of railways, or by passengers,
at the present time. Their defects are
-merou-letriea1 Review
'FOR DOGS AND CATS." ti
Around the new, low fountains al
The P. C. autoc::-ats il
Have placed a sigi of wisdom fi
That reads: '"Er Dogs and Cats.'- ti
Will it catch the eye of puppies tc
Or kittens, do you think, a1
And lure them from destruction
To a strictly ha::mless drink? .
Or will the knowing sparrow, E
In thankful attitude.
Spy this and flit. rcniarking,
"beg pardon, I initrude?" N
Do they expect the bison,
The sprightly kangaroo.
The araceful boa-constri:-tor.
Will want to drink there, too.
Or must the val: and ernu.
On litte- eity bats.
Be barrcd from this reireshment
Designed -For Dogs and Cats" I
-Katherine L. Mcad., in Life.
GIVING AN ORANGE PARPTY.
Have you ever given an orange .v
party?
It is curious and amusing from the w
very start, as each giest is rcquested M
to bring an orange-which request be
ig accompanied by no explaiation is :7
quite puzzling. -and therefore gives an 0'
added interest right at the beginning. to
Usher each arrival into the dining :l
room, where they are received by the ti,
range Aid Committee. whose first a
duty is to aid you in yegistering your ki
range and tyiu a ribbon marked by to
a letter around it sc you may identify di
It later. w
Then all the guests assemble in the g
dining room, while the committee con- pl
tinues with its work, which is to count s;
the seeds. Each orange is cut in half. al
the seeds are ex:racted. and, after be
ing counted and duly credited to the tiL
"THE ORANGE-AID C03.
wner as entered on the register, they o~
are put into a transparent glass bowl. pt
Now the guests partake of a repast
omposed of every conceivable form of
range you can think of-sliced or
nges. orange ice, erangende, orange- cc
favored candy, ete.-after which you ox
nnounce that a prize will be offered ti
o the one who guesses nearest to the ai
umber of seeds in the bowl, and a T
ooby prize given to the poorest c:
uesser. Also, two prizes will be p
warded to th'e two guests having the --j
ost numiler of seeds and the least as
umbet in their respective oranges. g
Appopriate' prizes are in order for a li;
dzen orange sodas at a good soda E
ountain for the grand prize, and a E
mall jar of orange marmalade will fc
provoke a good deal of mirth when it Tr
s given to the winner of the booby E
prize. r
And by the'time the party winds up E
you will find the bowlful of orange a.
es havc sprung up into a splendidl h
crop of fun. Yet. If you prefer other u:
fruit, you may call the party after al
most any variety containing a moderatre
mount of seeds. a ithmough we would
ot advise a watermelon party, as then
the committee would have to spend a
week or so counting the seeds.-New
York Evening M1ail.
A SIMPLE EXPERIENT.
Cut two slips of paper long enough
for each to encircle the ottside of a e:
bottle, leaving an uncovered space be
tween ,the slips. Fasten them in place
y a thread and then wrap a piece of
wine around the uncovered glass be- 0
tween the strips.
To one end of the' twine tie a nail or
some conv-enient lhock. Hlol the other a
end with one hand and withr the other
move the bottle quickly backwvard and
I ti
w PAlEr. AND STuING ARE PLACED a
forward. This is done in order that the i
twine my rub upon the exposed glass h
between the paper bands. This action tl
will shortly cause the surface of the tl
las to heat. After it is well heated tl
ro :ome cold water on it. Now, by q;
shl; stop. you may break the bottle
a h: so evenly that there will not be a
one;> :ged place In the entire circle of hi
the I; 'ak. t
But of what use is this bit of appar- 04
tiy superiuons knowledge? Well
suppose, for instance, the glass stopp~er e
n your cologne bottle (if you are a e
girl) got stuck and refused to budge.
All you have to do to dislodge the stop
per is to wind a heavy cord around the .C
neck -e -om one to pull one end taut, ti
D BO}3
ke hold of the other end yourself
.d work the neck mildly to and fro
the string, just as you did in the
st experiment. This continued fric'
)n will cause the neck of the bottle
become so hot that it will expand,
. the glass stopper will be loosened
ough to allow it to be pulled out
ithout further trouble.-New York
,niing 3Iay.
RTURING A CHEERFUL SPIRIT
Lucky was the patient in Cedarville
ho could secure the services of
mty" lond as his nurse. but he
nt make up his mind that while all
- wants would receive due attention
. lie woild have a fair amount of
dling. there were some things in
ih he could not count on having
own way.
Now you just take that look off
r face, won't you?" she half
axed. half-comnmanded a man who
is fecovering from pneumonia. "You
't half as sick as you were a month
: I-t your thoughts dwell on that,
(I let 'ei dwell on this: There's lots
folks outdoors a-falling from the
o' buildings and a-getting run into
over by automobiles and contrap
1s of all sorts, besides those that
e yielding to temptation o' various
ids and being sent to Jail, and then
State prison. And while all these
adful things are going on outside,
iat is happening to you? You are
:tting well at home, in peace and
Lty, and what's more, in as hand
me a walnut bedstead as there is in
I Cedarville!
"You let your mind dwell on these
iigs a minute, and then you turn
?iTEE AT WORK{.
*r and go to sleep."-Youthi's Comn
COING DOWN THE NILE.
Some years ago an Englishman was~
ming down the River Nile, in Egypt,
a large boat loaded with grain, and
ebirds came off from every village
ate the gr3in piled on the deck.
Englishman asked the Egyptial
ptain of the boat, "Who owns this
i?" The Egyptian captain said,
own it." Then the Englishmal
ked. "Why let the birds eat up the
~?" The Egyptian asked tihe Eng
a:n, "Who made the birds?" The
iviishmanl answered, "God." Th(
yptianl asked, "Whether grain was a
d which God intended birds to eat?'
i Englishman said it was. The
yptian said. "Can the birds sow and
ie the grainl for themselves?" The
rglishman' said, "They cannot." Then
d tie Egyptian, "Let thlem eat; God
tsprovided enough for bo0th them and
'Our Dumb Animals.
"ROTHER. WHO KNOCKS."
w players are blindfolded and sil
n back to backt. Anothler playei
eps to them and taps one of their
ntly on the head. Thle child thatt h
touched asks the other blindfolded
"rother, who knocks?"
Ef it guesses who it was, the "kuock
~"must take its place.
rs. Gertrude Atherton, the author
.says Harper's Weekly, tells of the
ulations of a friend ill Newv York,
oo is the mother of' a particular'l3
w ievi~ious5 boy of sonie seven years.
"ne evening recently." says Mrs.
therton. "wihen tihe mother was5 get
ng the boy ready for hed~ after whal
'tered 'a day of unmitigated out
lousess'W5 on the part of her hope
,ishe said to him:
'Now when you say your praye'rs
>.ight. Richard, rememiber to asi
ad to make you a better boy. Yot
:v certainly been bad to-day."
&oin~gly the youngster began hi:
itito to tile Almighty in tile usual
m. Before closing with the custom~
Ani." I e added:
"And please, God, make me a better
hen he paused a moment, and. te
uc tter consternation of tile long suf
iig moter, he concluded his pray
with unabated gravity':
"Nevertheless, not my will, oh, Lord,
at Thine be~ done."
About Colds.
If nnoyed by an attack of catarrh,
c umes of a tablespooniful of tinc
iref benzoin compound in the root'
night will help to relieve ii.
If the throat is affected by a smuart
aad rasping, wet the end of a towel
cold water, bind it against th-e
rt and wind around the wvet en.
i ry, warm end of the towel. It
me orning the soreness will be re
To alleviate a cold. go to bed with
little eucalyptus oil upmi :1n old
dkkrchief, or withi a saucerfl of
s sme on a table by the bed. Un
si eously inhale this dur'ing the
giltand it will ward off a cold ou
e'ta rec when the cold is devel
)d.-Philadelphia Inquirer.
In the days of the comlmonwealtl]
..i....-. .... threatened with er,
- 111
CHIFFON VEILS IN VOGUE.
The popularity of chiffon veils still
keeps up surprisingly despite the fact
that winter is here. The coming of the
automobile into such general use is to
some extent undoubtedly responsible
for this, but the main reason is that
women have come to realize its effec
tiveness from a decorative point of
view. They have learned that it has
more value in that way than merely
as a covering for soiled hats.
Both the yard and a half and the
three-yard lengths are called for in
the more subdued colorings - brown,
navies and blacks, with browns well in
the lead. There is some demand for
the fancy form of this veil, but it is
not so strong as the plainer styles.
The demand i'or mesh veils is still
very good, black Tuxedos with small
dots. both chenilled and woven, being
the leaders. The large dots and fancy
colors have met with a fair degree of
success. Iut only in the larger cities.
The American woman is. as a rule,
not given to making herself conspicu
ous.
WOMEN'S VOICES.
A Phfiladelphian who has been back
a week or so from an extensive tour
of Europe concludes that American
women, as seen in the general view in
street and shop, are all right to look
at, *but," he says. "I never knew how
bad they were to listen to until I came
back and heard their voices, high
pitched and with a nasal twang that
seems excessive after a summer's re
spite. I reaily think it must be worse
than when I left, and if there are any
statistics on the subject, I would be
willing to bet on it. To me it is now
so noticeable that I wonder every time
when I see that other people. do not
seem to hear it. Of course, you can
get used to anything. but when I do
find a woman now whose speech is of
the low, full-voiced kind you hear in
Europe, it acts like a positive rest for
the ear. They say. I believe, that the
feminine nasal squeak is worse in the
country than in the city, but I don't
see how that could be possible. Physi
cal culture will never fulfill its fune
tions completely till it does away with
the high-pitched voice."-Philadelphia
Record.
THE FASHIONABLE FLOWER.
The fashion in flowers has turned
toward poinsettias, Tiis large, red,
barbaric blossom makes a brilliant
note of color for the winter decora
tion. It is seen on half the well ap
pointed tables of this season. The
flowers are often arranged with ferns
in a huge white and gold basket for
the centre of the table. These baskets
are immensely popular. They come in
every shade of straw. They are square,
round, empire and boat shape. When
there is a handle it is. twisted with
tulle or simply tied with a huge
bow of satin ribbon in the centre. Ex
cept at very ceremonious dinners, this
basket of flowers is preferred to any
centrepiece. The wide, openmouthed
French ones, gilded, are especially at
tractive. They must be heaped with
fowers carelessly put into moss.
Another fashionable centrepiece for
the table is a huge transparent French
bowl, filed with the most 'vividly col
ored fruit. Through the fruit are
masses of red or yellow flowers. Holly
is especialiy used because of its col
oring. This bowl is mounted on a
wreath of asparagus vines.
RESTING A GOWN.
"Did you ever try giving your gowns
short siestas or vacations':" said the
talkative girl. "3My gowns need pos
itive rest cures, I don't know whether
they get sp)ells of being tired of life.
like I do. but, anyway, they become
utterly bored and fagged looking, worn
with the stress of life. A periodical
disappearance and freshening do won
ders for them. I have a certain chif
foni of which I am esp~ceially fond. I
ind myself inclined to wear it everyv
evening, until it looks rather shabby
to me; yet if I carefully lay it out in
tissue paper and put it to rest in my
boy (ouch for several weeks, it comes
out all new to mec again, and positively
sintillates wvith stored crispness.''
IWomen take a lot better care of their
evening gowns than those in which
they are seen daily. Isn't it strange
how many wvomen will wear a tailor
made day after day. ev'ery time they
go out, yet never think of having it
pressed? Yet a man always has the
suit he isnt wearing in the hands of
te tailor. being eleaned and pressed.
Womens taiior mades are a good dcal
like men's clothies nowadays: that is,
in the cloths of which they are made.
They are almost as lible to being
kneed or wrinkled: and there's nothing
freshens a gown like a good brushing
and pressing.
SUFFERING FOR BEAUTY.
You must suffer to be beautiful,
according to a French saying. There
sens to be some truth in the state
ment, if a lady's maid in Paris is
to be believed. She has revealed the
secrets of her mistress's boudoir, or.
rather, torture chamber. The lady
hrself is now beautiful, but one won
diers that she is still alive. For months
she lay flat on her back on the hioot-.
motioless. with her arms close to her
side, during several hours every day.
This~ wa. it appears. to .improve her
iure. During the rest of the day,
for the same period of time, she sat
on a highi stool giv-ing and rocking'
the uppner part of her body backward
aud forw ard and from side to side
unening*ly. By this process she is
sid to have acquired a stat -esque
throat and a sylp~h's waist. 'The lady's
nose, having a soaring nature, was
corrected and made Grecian by the
constant applicationl day and night for
months of a spring bandage. One nos
tril was originally larger than the
other, so she wore a small sponge in
it for a year. Her cheeks have been
anlea out and runded by ininctions of
paraffin. Her ears for nmonths were
compressed against the sides of her
bead by springs, while heavy weights
were attached to the lobes to produce
the required elongated shape, which
has been successfully achieved. Hav
ing suffered this complicated martyr
diom for a year, the lady, as already
stated, is now beautiful.
-ovdor
Never read facing the light.
Do not read while you rock.
Don't read on a moving train.
Don't tax your eyes when you are
tired or hungry.
Don't try to read just one minute
more in the dusk.
No man ever loved a woman just be
cause she was good.
N. man is ever really in love who
c-an say so with all the ease, ardor and
elat of a stage lover.
The man who says pretty things to
his wife all the time must have had
lots of practice either before or since
his marriage.
The husband who never gives his
wife a decent word or compliment
would knock down any otaer -an who
would treat her ij the same way.
Women compositors have so increased
in Edinburgh that 'n some of the
large establishments they form nine
ty per cent. of the force employed.
They do not belong .tc the union, but
the union allows its members to work
with them.
There is a growing fancy for hair
pillows in place of feathers. These
re much cooler than the old style
ead rest, have no odor and retain
their firmness.
The married woman who earns
wages may, in some cases, not have to
work as hard as the woman who is
trying to make her husband's salary
cmeet the family expenses.-Washing
ton Star.
After all, one should not be a fair
weather girl. All days can't be sunny,
and, besides. one always knows that
the sun is still doing business up there
in the blue, and there's not the slight
est chance of it getting lost. Sooner
r later the old warm rays will shine
out again.
TJalk hopefully to your children of
life and its possibilities; you have no
right to depress them because, yon
aave suffered.--Woman's Life.
Tabs finish many a bodice bask.
Plush is much used in smart iiead
Soft fabrics prevail for afternoon
wear.
That Frenchy little velvet bow is be
ing overworked.
A curious red on the crushed straw
berry is favored.
Warm colors reign supreme in the
complete wardrobe.
Hand embroidery on tucks is dainty
for the debutante's frock.
The tiniest fans are of peacock
feathers with tortoise shell sticks.
Skirt flounces caught dowvn at the
bottom in puff effect are new-old.
Every gown has its shoe or slipper to
match and the stocking follows suit.
Exquisitely lovely are the pale green
art nouveau combs with jeweled floral
The blouse with strapped front and a
long silk scarf pulled through is popu
Hats of moss, with clusters of' red
berries tucked in the green, are a love
ly novelty.
Velvet blouses, both simipl~e and elab
orate. are to be taken into considera
tion this year.
A blouse~ that is "different" is of
black taffeta with a tucked chemisette
of white muslin.
There are brown blouses so alluring
that ong wants to buy a brown suit
just to match them.
Mass creamy white roses on the back
of your evening toque, where they will
rest against the hair.
Fasinating things are shown in
warm room gowns of eiderdown, quilts
d satin and cashmeres.
Washingtonl's Birthday.
For nearly a century and a quarter
good Americans have celebrated the
birthday of George Washington as a
time of patriotic rejoicing. The first
rcorded celebration occurredl in Rich
mond. V'a., in 1782, and in 1793 Feb
ruary 22 was set aside as an annual
holiday of public observance.
George Washington was born on the
Wakeield estate in Virginia, February
L (old style), 173o2. He died Decem
ber 14, 1799, at his Mount Vernon
hme. This beautit'ul and historie
homestead has since become one of the
rost sacred places in America, and
in the old house are gathered many
interesting relics of the (days when "the
1"ther of His Country" still lived in
th copanioiship as w: s Demem
or of his countrymen.
One story of the life of this loved
and grtly honored patriot furnishes
one of the most fascinating nu. ratives
in literature. It is called "Irving's
Life of Washington," and was written
by Washington Irving, himself a great
American and a namesake of our first
President. Read this biography and
when you cele. rate the memory of
Washington remember that his great
ness was founded largely on his strict
honesty, his unselfishness and his love
for his cuntry

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