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* -~ reta s
The strains of a violin floated from
the porch of a California ranch house
standing isolated near the base of a
mountain. The ranch was il culti
vated and there was little stock"
upon the scaut alfalfa pasture.
The house, on the contrary, was
large, well built, and was altogether
a pretentious looking residence. John
Engledew had bought the land and
built the house when he first came
out from England ten years previous
with a pretty, delicate wife and a lit
tIe girl five years old. Being of a
sanguine and unbusiness like dispo
sition., he was cheated in the land.
and spent so much upon the house
that he had not the wherewithal to
support the place during the first
non-paying years; hence he became
poor instead of rich; he was in debt
and the land was mortgaged "up to
the hilt." Of late Engledew had fal
len into bad health, he had almost
entirely ceased to work, and what
little the ranch returned them when
the interest on the mortgages was
paid was due to the young violinist
who was making music upon the
A believer in heredity would have
bad his theories thrown into confu
sion by the little musician; it was
neither from the delicate, querulous
mother, nor from the lazy, good hu
mored, lax principled father that
Greta Engledew inheritil the vigor
orous will, courage and gool sense
that showed in the clear, bluze gray
eyes and in-every pose of the lithe,
strong figure. At fifteen she was
more of a woman than most girls of
twenty; it was she who milked the
cows, made the butter, cooked and
cleaned, rode to the town to sell
poultry and eggs, insisted on lazy
Mike, her ten-year-old brother, at
tending the "district school," and
generally "kept things together" on
the "View Halloa" Ranch.
The fath~r was as wax in the hands
of Greta, but the mother had a spice
of that strange obstinacy common to
the weak. She would occasionally
take. determined and usually disas
ti ous action in thefamily affairs; thus
she steadily combated her daughter's
persistent cultivation of her musical
talents, while she deplored the fact
that her shapely hands were sun
burnt because she did not wear
Greta had a pronounced and re
narkable talent for music. Cld Man
uel Xeres, who lived at the Mission
Dolores, had discovered he:: gifts;
he had taught the little b::ue-eyed
girl all he knew, and when 'he died,
which he did when his pupil was
fourteen, he left her his voilin-a
''Strad"-of which neither she nor
.any one in her environment knew the
'value. Greta arose at dawn to work
in order that she might have time to
practice. She loved music, but she
had also other aims in view.
r She was playing "Che fare, "giv
ing the long-drawh, wailing notes
softly, but not so absorbe= in the
music as to prev'ent her hearing the!
dooi- at the back of the house open
and close. She stopped playing and
listened; there were steps in the
. itchen-light, hesitating steps.
"Is that you, father?" she cried.
There was no answer.
"Mike, is it you?"
Still no answer came. As Greta
went into the house, violin in hand,
she heard a distant beat of hoofs.
She walked through the front parlor,
through the kitchen beyond and into
the small wire-inclosed "summer"
kitchen that lay behind it. In this
apartment she saw the visitor whose
step~s she had heard-a tall man,
clad in the ordinary working dress
of a rancher, a sunburnt, black beard
ed man, who might have been any~
age from twenty-five to thirty-'wo.I
He leaned on the table for support,
his breath came in gasps, and on the
left sleeve of his cotton "jumper"
was an ominous dark-red stain.
"Who are you?" asked Greta, bold
-ly. "What do you want?"
The stranger' raised his head,
looked at her straight from~ a pair of
-handsome hazel eyes, and caught the
sound of horse's hoofs; he sprang to
ward her and clutched her arm.
"Listen to me," he said rapidly.
"I am innocent-I never touched the
horse, but it's my oath against Jim
Sweeney's. They're all on my track
like fiends; if they catch me they'll
bang me to yonder tree! Will you
hide me? If you don't I'm a dead
man, and I swcar to you that I'm in
"Innocent or guilty," said Greta,
coolly. "they'e no right to kill you
The man looked at her and gave
an odd, reckless laugh.
"No tight to hang a horse thief?"
be said. "You're not Californian."
"No. I'm English-as you are. I
knew you were English the moment
The sound of hoofs ec'ho?d on the
bridg2 over the ditch; the girl
dragged her' unbidden guest through
the kitchen into the parlor, pushed
him into a deep rocker wiiich. stood
with its back to the roonl, flung a
handkerchief over his head to make
it appear that he was indulging in a
siesta, and drew her bow steadily
across the violin strings. She had
played three bars of the "Che fare,"
when there came a knock at the door.
The door was pushed open, to dis
close a group of angry nr en. The
girl stepped forward.
"Good-day. gentlemen!" she said,
in c cear voice. "Is thr'e anyt hing
1 'au do for you?"
The spoktesman doffed his hat. He
was an American. and Americans are
habitually polite to women.
"Sorry to disturb ye-Miss Engle
dew, ain't it?"
"Yes, I'm Greta Engledew. Say,
shall I call papa?"
"Thar ain't no need, Miss Engle
dew, Ye ain't seen no one pass by
y ere. I- s'pose? We're out after a
skunk of a horse thief; that's what's
the matter with us:
-;Papa's working down near the
People's ditch. You might ask him."
--You ain't seen no one pass?"
-'. "o I've been playina here"=-di
recting attention to her violin-"and
I've not been out since noon. Say,
Jack"-boldly turning her head to
ward the rocker, at which one of the
men was looking-"you've not seen
a horse thief, have you?"
The ocupant of the chair remained
The girl laughed, went up to him,
and peeped under the handkerchief.
The sleeve of the jumper and the
cushion of the chair were alike
soaked with the red stream that is
sued from the wound in the man's
arm; the man himself was in a
I swoon. Greta dropped the handker
chief and turned to the pursuers.
"Sound as a church!" she said,
merrily. "I guess you needn't trou
ble him with questions."
"Sorry to hev troubled you, Miss
Engledew! Say, boys, he must hev
made tracks for Blue Point Falls."
"Just go way down by the People'.s
Ditch and ask papa," said the girl,
sauntering easily after them.
"No, I guess not, Miss Engledew;
we'll go by Blue Point."
The calvacad'e clattered over the
bridge, and the girl sprang back into
the house. She ran to the kitchen to
fetch water and some stimulant.
then rapidly returned to the side of
the wounded and hunted man, who
was still insensible; she ripped up the
sleeve and revealed a sunburnt, mus
cular arm, with a bullet wound a
little below the shoulder. Greta was
capable of a little rough-and-ready
surgery; she stopped the flow,
bathed and bandaged the wound, put
the arm in a sling, and then man
aged to force some stimulant between
the white lips; in ten minutes the
man groaned, stirred, sat up, and
gazed at her blankly.
"They've gone past here to Blue
Point Falls. If you're fit to go, you'd
best be off to the Mission."
The man stood up.
"I am very miuch obliged to you,"
he said, faintly.
"You've no need to be. )Vould
you like something to eat before you
"No, thanks. I should like some
She brought him some, and he
drank; then he suddenly turned and
"You declared that I ought not to
be hanged, even if I were a horse
"That is the view I take of it. I
don't think you ought to be."
The man stooped and looked stead
ily into her eyes.
"But I do not wis'i you to think
of me as a thief-I want you to feel
convinced that I am honest, and that
I am simply the unluckiest man on
Greta gave no answer.
"Do you believe that?"
Greta looked at him-the hazel
ey as were very honest.
"Thank you," said the man. draw
ilg a long breath. "I'll go now
"I haven't heard a violin for ten
years. Would you mind finishing
"Why, you must be mad!"
"I assure you I am not-but, if I
aa, will you humor me?"
She played the air, and at ths end
te man arose.
"Thank you-I shan't forget that
music nor the musician. Good-by!"
"Stop!" said Greta. "Come with
me-it's twelve miles to the Mission,
and you're too weak to walk them."
She fiitted before him to the barn
a:d through the barn to the pasture;
pesently she returned with a horse,
bridled and saddled.
"Here-you can get away on this."
"No-no," said the man, gently.
"You'll get a scolding if you give
aay your father's horses. You
sban't be scolded for me."
He clasped the hand that held the
bidle as he spoke.
"This is my horse." said Greta,
flushing, "and you're welcome. I
want you to take him."
Their eyes met; the man mounted
silently and stooped.
"Will you tell me your name?"
The man stooped lower yet, sud
denly flushed, and pulled himself up
right in the saddle with a jerk.
"Thanks avail little," he said, in a
low voice, "but I shall not forget."
He hesitated, then stretched forth the
unwounded arm, and with his hand
gently drew out the bunch of orange
yellow wild flowers that glowed on
the girl's bosom; he thrust them into
the breast of the stained cotton
jumper, and turned the horse's head.
Five min'utes later he had vanished
in a cloud of dust.
* * * *
Four years had pascsed. Greta
Engledew sat in a small, dingy apart
ment in Plymouth. Time had trans
formed her into a remarkably hand
some girl. Her violin rested upon
her knee, and she tapped her little
foot rather impatiently upon the
"But, mother, dearest," she said,
gently, "what else can I do? I do
not think you understand, dear, that
we are positively penniless!"
The only answer was a wgil from
the pallid woman, in her shabby
widow's weeds, who was Greta's com
"We had much better have re
mained in California after dear' fath
er died and the ranch was taken,. but
Syielded to you in that. See now,
dear mother-we have no relations,
no friends, no interest. I cannot get
employment without references. Mike
is too young to be of any help in that
direction, but he can be of assistance
in the path I have chosen; he can
protect he, and he sings very nicely."
"I still tlhink it disgraceful and al
The tears welled up in Greta's
"Oh, mother, do you imagine that
I take any pleasure in walking miles
along dusty roads in order to play
my violin on the narades of sunimer
watering places? But uintil T di
this we were in wan-you knwv
"The wbole thing has :n'... a. niun
die rom beginning to end," rcsilont
ed Mrs. Engledew.
Greta was silent.
"Of course, you w",! not listen i
me." the lady ccntinued: "you wi
start to-morrow as you propose?"
"W3 cannot pay the rent and btu
food if I do not." replied Gret;
*'However, I will not oppose yoi
Refer it to Mike, mothr-let him d<
But Mike, mindful of days of sem
starvation, supported Greta, and o
the following day brother and sist(
started on their tour.
It was a hard life, unfit for a rt
fined and gently-bred girl, but it wo
a free and healthy outdoor ecistenc<
and the weather was beautiful.
For three weeks they trampcd hal
pily from place to place, but on th
fourth week disaster befell the youn
There Is an unwritten law whic
prevails in California to the effet
that wayfarers may halt and refres
themselves with the produce of orcl
ards. Mike, reared in California, i
perfect innocence plucked and ati
only to find himself given into cu
tody by an irate farmer, who m
Greta's pleadings by roughly tellin
"Her was ivery bit as bad as the
young limb was. He'd be boun
her'd taught the boy to steal; he'
go before his worship, Squire Arden
Ah, he'd be lucky if he got let o
with the birch and a fine"'
Poor Greta found sonic difficult
in getting decent lodging for th
night, and would have fared badl
had not a rosy-faced young woina
consented to receive her.
"Don't you fret about the boy,
said this good Samaritan. "What
a few apples! Lor' bless ye, Squir
Arden's a very pleasant gentleman
He's only had Combeley Dell a year
since the 'old squire's death. Th
old squire was dreadfully bitte
against Mr. Miles, till the death c
Mr. Francis two years ago made M,
Miles the heir. Then the old squir
made friends with him."
Greta listened with little interes
-she was thinking of Mike. Th
next day she went with a beatin
heart to-see her brother arraignea i
court. The justice was a handsom
man on the right side of forty
grave-looking man, closely shave
and with very fine eyes.
Greta explained tremulously tha
her brother had meant no harm-h
had not understood English custom.
"You are from California?" saii
the justice, fixing his gaze on he
"I think." said the magistrate
slowly, "I shall be justified in di;
missing the case. You will be pre
pared to pay for the apples?"
"Oh - yes-- yes - three time
"That," said Mr'. Arden, slowly
"will be unnecessary, Miss Engleden
The prisoner is discharged."
Greta thanked him fervently, an
was turning away, eager to join Mike
"Miss Engledew, one moment,
said the squire. "1 .am anxious i.
speak to you. Do you know m;
"My carriage is outside. I wil
direct you and your brother to b
Greta. bewildered and exceedingl:
thankful to be restored to Mike, en
tered the smart dogcart, and wa
driven to a beautiful old house 0.
the outskirts of the moor.
They were shown into a room
where a servant brought them lunch
eon. An hour later the door opened
and their host entered. He advance<
and held out his hand.
"You do not remember me, Mis
"I have never met you before,
think, Mr. Arden."
"I thought you did not remember
but a man does not readily forget th'
woman who has saved his life. D<
you remember these?" And wit1
loving care he drew from a big, bulk;
pocketbook a bunch of faded ani
"Will you play me 'Che faro' to
day?" said Arden. softly. "You see
I have, the same flowers still, Mis
Engledew, and the horse is very hap
py in our Devon pastures."
Greta turned white, and wouli
have fallen had not Arden caugh
"Your sister and I are old friends
my boy," he said, as he turned
smiling face to Mike. "I owe he
more than she guesses-more thai
I knew until this moment."
* * * *
Greta Engledew was playing "Oh
Ifaro" under a cedar tree on the law)
of a pretty cottage where.her mothe
was installed in great comfort.
Miles Arden sat beside her'.
ing notes died away, "three month
ago I said that a man does not for
get the woman who has saved hi
'life. That was a half truthn-wil
Iyou hear the whole to-day? A mal
may forget the woman who has save<
his life, but not the woman who fill
it with a love that will last as loni
as his life lasts. Greta, I think
loved you even that day, for it wa
very hard to ride away without tak
ing-what I take now.'"-New Yor]
As London Sees Us.
It is too bad that the fascination
of bridge whist should be the allege
cau: of the abandonment of thei
business by the New York securit
insurance companies. Gamblin
among the women of New York is o:
the increase, and a not uryusual thin;
is for a woman who has incurrea
debts in play or in horse racing t
take out a burglar policy for severa
thousand dollars, representing to he
husband that she was in fear of be
ing robbed. After a short time th
woman goes to a pawnshop, gets
loan and raises the cr:: that she ha
been robbed. The husband in tur:
makes a claim upon the insuranc
company, and usually some sort c
Ievidence is produced to support th
burglar theory. But such wome:
are happily black swans in New. Yorli
__Tnann Evening Standard. .._
n2 A spider was swinging her'2 f in glee
r From a moss-covered sw .mg bough:
A breeze came rollicking u:> from the sea.
And fannned her beautiful brow.
She hung, it is true, with her pretty head
Uut her brain was c->ol as you please
The fashion quite suited the cut of her
And she could look up in the trees.
She saw where a humming-bird lighted
At his throat a bri '.t ruby gleamed:
h On his head was a golk'and emerald crown,
:t And lie sat on a bough and dreamed.
h1 The spider ran un on her silver thread,
And looked in the little king's facee:
jf J maY but sit at your feet." she iuid,
n -I'll spin you some beautiful lace."
The humming-bird looked in her shining
And'then at her nimble feet.
G And said to himself. I have found a prize,
i She is useful as wvell as neat.
I "You may sit by my side, i it please you
d Sawi le the summer time through:
d And since you spn on a noiseless wheel
I'll do the huming for you."
.-elle W. Cooke.
y THE ROBIN I'HAT REMEMBERED.
e There was trouble in Robintown,
Y in the Apple Orchard country. Father
n and Mother Robin were flying from
tree to tree in great distress, ".nd
all their friends were hurrying to
s see what had happened. I knew the
e secret the two had guarded s-> care
fully-of the nest in the old Sweet
William apple tree with its three
e tiny, wide-mouthed babies. I thought
r of Neighbor Browne's black cat, and
left my work to hasten out and see
' what was the matter.
e As I stood in the old orchard, lis
t tening, I heard a faint cry from the
e grass under the tree, and, after care
ful search, found one of the ijaby
rotins lying helpless on the ground.
e I suppose it must have fallen over
a the edge of the nest. Somehow, too,
it had broken a leg, either in its
fall or in its struggles after it
t reached the ground.
e Tenderly taking it in my hand
and speaking a soothing word to
Father and Mother Robin, who
r cease-: their plaintive cries w:hen
they saw their little one in my
hands, I took the little sufferer to
the house, lined a box with cotton
for a resting place. and set the
broken leg as well as its restlessness
would allow. Such a hungry baby!
It was always ready to be fed and
n-ever ceased to nave too much.
Would it be possible for a growing
robin to overeat, I wonder?
The days passed by, and Tony
as I named my little charge, grew
large, and he and I became the best
of friends. The broken leg was
Sstrong again, and beore long Tony
was hopping around the room and
following me from place to place
about my work. But I knew I must
I not keep my little pet a prisoner. So
one sunshiny morning I opened the
window and let him Icok out upon
the beautiful free world.
-He turned his head from side to
Sside, studying the strange, new'.
Scountry; but soon he heard the hap
p~y notes of other birds not far away,
and, giving me a brigh'. look from
-the corner of his eyc, away he flew
-to freedom. But every morning
1 Tony appeared at my window for~
his breakfast, and often he w'ould
a come into the tree in front of the
house and sing me one of his most
[ joyous songs. If I went to the door
and called "Tony!" he would give
;a quick, short cry and stretch out
a his woundeli leg, now entirely w7ell,
in a peculiar way, seeming to re
2 mind me of the accident which had
y brought us together.
i When autumn came and the rob
ins flocked together, ready to escape
the cold by flying south, I expected
- to say good-bye to my little friend
,forever. I often wondered where
s he spent the snowy days and if he
- ever thought of me. Imagine my
surprise, then, one bright spring
I morning, to hear outside my window
t that peculiar call which I knew only
Tony would make.
,I hastened to the door, and, sure
i enough, there 'as my liatle friend.
r The spots on his breast had given
3 place to an even red, and the mate
that he had brought with him told
me that he was now a full-grown
,robin, ready to face the responsibili
ties of life. What his mate thought
of such unusual proceedings I would
like to know, but Tony had not for
gotten, and had come to tell me
their happy secret, "Mrs. Tony and
-I are looking for a nice, shady plaee
in Robin Town to make our home
SI am .sur'e they found it, but 1
wonder whether Tony ever told his
childrn of strange adventures,
"when I was a boy," in the giant's
eastle. and how the giantess proved
a kind friend and helper in his need.
~ -Alice B. Fletcher, in the Congre
Tr ier was three years old. He had
a giant, Bad Habit. And the giant
made him obey and do what was
wrong. Mother anC Tyler went
down to the old farm to spend the
summer with Grandmother Tyler.
One afternoon they all thought Tyler
was taking his nap. Pretty soon
grandma tiptoed to the porch and
beckoned to the family who were sit
-There on the end of the couch in
the sitting-room sat Tyler, with the
pudding dish between h.-s krnees, eat
i::g the custard which had been made
for supper. Mother was ashamed.
But gr'andm~other said, "Hush:
Wit!" When supper was finished,
a ndmiother said. "Louise. would
you like some custard for dessert?"
And Louise said, "Yes, please, grand
moher." But grandmother said,
vey sadly, 'You can't have any,
Lonnie Tvier's big giant went into
the pantry and ate our custard all
All the other grown people around
the table also asked for their share
of the custard, one after another;
but they couldn't have any, because
Tylr' s big giant had eaten it.
Oh. but Tyler was ashamed!
Truly. he was. It was dreadful to
have a giant that ate up everybody
else's dessert! And Tyler found out
what mean things .iauts will do-if
little boys let them.-Christian Ob
Grandfather Chase was walking
in the garden -one fine day when
Fred came home from school, after
lie hrd bern going.there for a few
"Well, dear," said grandfather,
"I suppose you are getting to be a
amlous scholar. You can spell al
MoSt anythiuig no, cafi't you?"
"Yes. sir, 'most anything!" an
swered the little boy, who seemed
to think that his words of two and
three letters were about all there
were in the world.
"Well, can you spell 'rat?'
"Oh, yes, sir: R-a-t, rat."
"Very well, indeed, my dear. Now
can you spell 'mouse?' "
Fred looked a little puzzled,
thought it over in his mind, and then
said, "No, sir, I don't believe I can
spell 'mouse.' "
"What, can't you spell a little bit
of a mouse? You can spell a great
big rat and can't spell a little
The child wrinkled his forehead
and tried to guess; but, finding he
couldn't, he looked up into his
grandfather's face and said, "I know
I can spell 'rat,' but I can't spell
'mouse:' for I guess a spelt mouse
is a great deal bigger than a spelt
rat."-Every Other Sunday.
Ethel's auntie was canning straw
berries. Ethel liked to watch her,
and to think how nice the berries
would taste next winter, when the
snow was on, the ground. She
looked out of the window at the
lowers, and said, "I wish we .ould
can some of the flowers, auntie, and
have them next winter."
Auntie laughed, and said, "Go out
doors, and watch the bees awhile,
and then come back, and tell what
you think about it."
When Ethel came back, she said,
"I watched the bees a long tirme.
They went to the flowers to get their
honey. I think that honey is canned
lowers. I will remember that next
winter, when I eat the honey."
When Rachel stepped upon the
scene, not with the customary stage
ride, but with a dignity and majestic
grace all her own, there was first a
spell of intense astonishment and
then a burst of applause. She stood
still for a moment in the folds of her
classic robe like an antique statue
fresh from the hand of Phidias. The
mere sight sent a thrill through the
audience; her face a long oval, her
forehead, shado.wed by black, wavy
hair, not high but broad and strong;
under her dark arched eyebrows a
pair of wondrous eyes that glowed
and blazed in their deep sockots like
two black suns; a finely chiselled
nose with open, quivering nostrils;
above an energetic chin a mouth se
vere in its lines, with slightly low
ered corners, such as we may imagIne
the mouth of the tragic Muse; her
stature, sometimes seeming tall,
sometimes little, very slender, but
the attitude betraying elastic
strength; a hand with fine, tapering
fingers of rare beauty; the whole ap
parition e.cciting in the beholder a
sensation of astonishment and in
Itense expectancy. - Carl Schurz, in
- Windlows of the Stage.
"Monsieur Beaucaire,"' which was
revived at the Lyric Theatre, is the
sort ~of play which will continue re
peatedly to come to life. It is known
as a "romantic English comedy,"
with the Bath of the days of Beau
Nash as the scene. The splendor of
the costumes, the magnificanlce of
Ithe hero and of his good lady, are
such that it is not becoming to quib
ble at deta ils, but there is a most per
plexing detail of the scenery beyond
our understanding. Act IV., accord
ing to the context and the pro
gramme. is laid in the pump room;
but what window of that. buildirng
looked immediately upon a park even
in the year 1735? A royal Duke of
the House of Franice is the hero. It
is really too exciting a spectacle to
watch in the warm weather;. the
fight in Act III.. where we see Mr.
Lewis Waller with cloak and sword
contra munim, is :n particular more
of a winter spectacle. Whether his
sword play is orthodox or not does
not matter; it is a line sight and the
costume play of thle future, moreover,
will have no such thing unless the
hero scatter' his foes wit. the tricks
of jiu-jitsu.--London Times.
Would PunishUntruthful Advertisers
William Gray, of New York, secre
tary of the National Association of
Retail Grocers, says he will try to ob
tain the enforcement of a law against
false advertising which was passed
by the New York Legislature in 1898.
The law forbids the disscfminatonl in
advrtsemenlts of untruthful state
monts r'egarding ti :value, price and
methods of production of merchan
~ise offered for sale. No prosecution
under the lawv was ever instituted.
rh gr'ot rs' association is sadid to
have obtained evidence agtainst s -
erai navertisers.-Fourth Estate.
DINNER TABLE TALK.
We have shown a !amentable ds
position of late to discuss across our
dinner tables such topics as do not
make for mirth and cheerfulness,
and in consequence the digestive
laugh is but seldom heard.-Ladies'
MEMORY BELLS FOR LOVERS.
Memory bells are toys peculiar to
Japan, and are given by Japanese
youths to tleir sweethearts. They
are constructed of slips of glass so
delicately poised that the least vibra
tion sets them jingling. The mem
ory bells are hung in a window,
where the draft will set them in mo
tion. The delicate tingling serves to
remind their owner of the giver,
hence the pretty fanciful name.
TO MAKE A HAPPY HOME.
An American writer says: "You
want to help the man you marry to
be fine and strong and true. Show
him that you believe he has all those
qualities. You will raise his own
self-respect and bring him to the
level you tell him he occupies. Be
lieve in bim; be gentle with him;
don't contradict him when, he is
tired; let him think he is having his
own way in his own house; feed him
with w:aat he likes and laugh at his
jokes. Herein lies the secret of a
SOUVENIR OF DEADBEATS.
A framed piece of needlework,
consisting of buttons sewn on a silk
foundation, was recently sold by auc
tion in North London. It was madei
by the wife of a country parson who
used to utilize in this way the but
tons found In offertory bags in her
Tho peculiar collection covered a i
number of years, and it was seldom, 1
indeed, that a special collection of 1
any kind was taken up without a .
number of buttons being deposited, ,
some by mistake, but most of them
The bridegroom who carries a min- I
lature horseshoe in his pocket will l
always be lucky.
The bride who dreams of fairies on i
the night before her wedding will be I
Never give a telegram to a bride E
or bridegroom on the way to church. <
It is a sure omen of evil.
Marriages on board ship are con- I
sidered unlucky. If you can't be
married on dry land remain unwed.
The finding of a spider on the wed
ding gown by the bride Is considered
a sure token of happiness to come
ORIGINAL, NOT OUTRE.
Very original, without being in
the least outre, is a confection of
white lawn. It is slightly open at
the neck, trimmed wita wide, em-t
broidery insertion and embroidery
edged frills. The skirt has the effect
of a three-tier tunic, opening over a
panel of pleated lawn, each tier beingt
edged with frills, the, top one being
further ornamented with bands of
insertion in continuation of those
n the blouse bodice. V-shaped
bands of insertion outline the neck,
edged on the one side with a frill,
which lightly drapes the shoulder.
Ihe frilled sleeves are of elbow 1
ength. The neck of this dress could
easily be trarasformed into a high one I
by the addition of a tiny yoke of em- e
To many, however, it is charming
ly becoming to have the neck cuti
just to the base of the neck, or a 1
rifle below. t
"I wouldn't mind traveling," said 13
n art student who sailed for Europe 11
ast Saturday, "if I didn't have to b
ead such an unflattering description I
f myself in my passport. Somehow
hose little slips of paper have the a
abit of telling some very discom- e
forting truths. Physical peculiari- c
ties that the owner had deluded her- t
self into believing were only minor a
efects after all, are noted in the
assports as means of positive identi
ficaton. Take my mouth, for ex
mple. I have always known that it a
ad attained to considerable width; ~
ut it had never occurred to me that
t was of extraordinary size till I
aw it down in the passport, 'big
outh.' I know another girl who C
ad always been decidedly proud of
her large, dreamy eyes-that was
hat she called them-till she sa~w
hem described in the passport as
pop eyes.' That took some of the
onceit out of her."-New York Sun. c
PRETTY EYES. s
The woman who wants pretty
es will not have them circled with b
ark lines. Nor will she have great
e sacs under her eyes. The pretty C
girl's eyes are never heavy in the
ids. They are never laden under
eath with great bags. They are
ever red as to the lashes, and the c
brows are never unruly. On the tl
ontrary, the eyes 'f the pretty girl t
are of tue shining variety, beautifully a
lear, and of the kind which can open s
widely and look one right in the face. h
To get eyes like this e , must not si
use -.ie eyes. The gi. who sews S
late at -ight, the girl who rubs her r
eyes, the girl who lets her lids and b
lashes become neglected, this giri z
cannot hope to have pretty eyes. a
't he eyebrows should not be ne- si
ected. The woman who wants d
nice eyc'hrows can heaL a little al- V
nond oil and apply it nightly to the! ci
eyes with a small brush. In this tl
nanner the eyebrows can be' influ- is
ned. Often they are inclined to G
grow straggly. But by painting
then with a brush regularly they
can be trained into shai:e. h
H-ETTY GREEN'S CAREER. v
'idn name-Metty Howland1
i:tg.ace-New Eedford, Mass. ji
orn--NoV. 21. 1835. jf
Age last birthday-Seventy. -~t
Education-At Mrs. Lowell's pri
vate school, Iloston.
Start of fortune-Large inheri
tance from her father, Edward Mott
Robinson, who died 1865.
Husband-Edward H. Green (died
March 19, 1902).
Legal residence-Bellows Falls,
Office-No. 170 Broadway, New
Financial positun-Richest wo
man In America, with the possible
exception of Mrs. Aussell Sage, and
foremost woman financier of the
Chief property-The Chemical Na
tional Bank, stock quoted at $4300
Household expenses-$70 a month.
Children-Edward Howland Rob
nson Green, President of the Texas
dlidland Railroad, and Sylvia Green,
a1RL OWES LIFE TO ATHLETICS.
The value of physical training and
tthletic ability in women was decis
ively demonstrated in the recent San
rancisco horror, when Miss Edith
qllis, known among the younger so
iety element of Lynn,Mass., as their
best basketball player and foremost
girl athlete, after suffering a wealth
f hardship, survived, and attributed
er 1ie to the rugged training of her
arly years. . 4
Miss Ellis left Lynn to follow her
>rofession as a teacher of physical
ulture in the faraway Western city,
and she had scarcely arrived there
;when the terrible earthquake razed
.he city to the ground.
The house in which she lived col
apsed one minute after she had
ushed from its tottering portal into
:he street. She was soon caught in
he mad whirl of fleeing inhabitants
.nd carried whither she knew not
where, fourteen miles out into the
Then came a long search for food
.nd water, but little was forthcom
ng. The suffering she endured for
he next two days and nights almost
elies description. She was parched
with thirst and famished with hun
;er, while the only thing that pro
ected her head from the elements
Lt aight was a fimsy bed sheet, that
he found somewhere along a trail
f abandoned chattels.
In a letter to her father, S. A. El
is, of Cambridge, she says that her
xcellent physical condition alone
:ept her from death.-Boston Post.
A touch of orange is considered ex
Long tulle scarfs are rivalling the
popular lace veils.
The lingerie vest and collar are
he features of some taffeta coats.
The ombre plaids of which we saw
,nly a few last season will be one of.
he vogues the coming season.
Two or more kinds of material,
ace, even embroidery most artisti
ally combined appear in the latest
Be sure to select a round thread
en for the waists you are going to
mbroder. They will wear better
,nd the work will look better..
A great vogue for velvet whether
i the shape of accessories like col
ar, cuffs and belt or in entire cos-4
nines is predicted for fall and win
Pleated tulle ruffles are even more
opular than feather stoles or boas.
~lephant and smoke gray, cinnamon
rown, and chestnut are the tints
The soft old blues, reds and greens
re particularly attractive worked in
d, old-fashioned designs upon the
ream ground of scrim for table and
uffet covers and articles of a like
Embroidered handkerchief linen
ppears as yoke and collar upon a
louse whose body and sleeves are of
heavier quality. The embroidery
preads across the lace insertion
pon the front.
The Dutch neck is a style that
ymmends Itself especially for the
ocks of young girls. The children,
o, are bewitching in the low-necked
ocks, and the plump little arms and
ecks suffe~r nothing from exposure.
Tartan plaids, by the way, are
ming on fast. You see them in
me of the new ties for Peter Pan
aiits, in girdles and in smart little
elts of silk braid, fastened with
arbaric copper buckles set richly
ith green, yellow and orange col'
A Sorrow-Stricken Couple.
Rarely, perhaps, has history re
rded a meeting more affecting than
at which is about to take place be
een the ex-empress of the French
nd the Emperor-King Francis Jo
ph. The one has lost her throne,
er husband, and, above all, her only
>. The other has been tried even
ore severely in the furnace of do
estic affliction. The fate of his
rother, MIaximilian of Mexico, the
urder of the Empress Elizabeth,
i the mysterious end of his only
> and neir, the Crown Prince Ru
oh-these are tiie blows by
'hich Francis Joseph has been suc
ssively smitten. And yet "Beneathl
t bludgeoning of chance, his head
bloody, but unbowed."-Pall 3Ialt
The women of Scotland carry
evy loads on their backs in baskets,
hich are strapped around their
aists and over their shoulders.
The money value of the coal mined4
t the world every year is more thaw
ur times that of the gold mined in
a e s time.