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THE B HIVE '+ +++..
,. , , ,. d;·t :+/ ? SPECIAL BAR.GINS THIS WEEK FOR x Decorated Tea Set, containing 56 pieces. FOR , Nickel Alarm Clock $4.00 Worth $6.5o. This week $4. Worth $.r;O. Thi week $r,lo. I French China Tea Set, 56 pieces, new styles. FOR r Patent Nickel Plate Cuspidor, with enameled receptacle, the greatest FOR invention of the age. $10 Worth $18. This week $xo. $1.50 Worth $2,0o. This week $$,5o. FOR x Decorated Dinner Set, xxx pieces, special design. FOR x Glass Stand Lamp, complete with chimney, burner and wick, $15 Worth $22.50. This week $z5. 250 Worth soc. This week :25a FOR I Decorated Chamber Set, 9 pieces. FOR Choice of 2,500 pieces of Sheet Music, best selections for Piano, Organ, 10 Worth $5. This week $3.10 100 Violin, Cornet, Vocal, etc. Regular price from 25c to $x.5o. Only roc FOR I Pair Ladies'.Fast Black Seamless Balbriggan Hose. FOR Infants' Long Cashmey Cloak, Silk Embroidered. Worth 35c. This week soc $2 WoFth $3.50. This week $2. FOR I Pair Children's Heavy Ribbed Fast Black Cotton Hose. FOR Ladies' Muslin Night Gown, Chemise or Skirt, nicely embroidered. 200 Worth 35c. This week 2oc 800 . Worth $I.25. This week 8oc. FOR x Pair Infants' all--wool Hose. FOR Hundreds of useful household articles, worth three times the price, on 15C Worth 25c. This week 15c. 50 our 5c bargain counter. FOR I all Linen Table Cloth, with red border, size 52x75. FOR We can give you double value in Tinware and $1 Worth 1I.50. This week $z. 100 Household Sundries. FOR I Linen Huck Towel, size 21x42. FOR A 5oc bottle of Ammonia, a wooden Chopping Bowl worth 4oc, an Egg 200 Worth 35c. This week 2oc 20c. Beater worth 5oc, and other useful goods on our 2oc counters. FOR I Large Size Oleograph, size 15x2o, in heavy frame of gilt, oak, white pe l Bargains in AllDepartments or bronze, picture of scenery, fruits, flowers, game or landscapes. $2 Worth $3.50. This week $2. * THE Bee HIMVE. Sol. Genzberger & Co., 5 North Main Street, Helena. tiII j lll the fashion of some glib-penned econo- i mists; who would have you believe that by i devoting all your time and 150 per cent. of your brains you can be arrayed more gor geously than the queen of Sheba on an in- 1 come of nothing and have plenty to spare: a I simply remark that a monotony of har- r monp is better than a monotony of dis sordsl that between always looking well in one color and always looking ill in a hodge- 1 podge of unrelated colors, there is an ob vious choice to a well-regulated mind, and that, moreover, there needn't be any mo notony at all. I know a woman who has tried it. She is a small woman, rather plump and with a fresh skin and the usual "American brown" hair. bhe is not especially pretty-when you are downright honest very few people are-but she sl nearest to prettiness when she wears blue. I suppose she has never spent much above $100 a year for clothes in her life and on an average she has spent considerably less; one year, I remember, she showed me her account books, from which she had just flgured out a disburse m.ent for the twelvemonth of precisely $45. lhe says the greatest difficulty she finds in dressing herself on a small sum and not having the smallness of the sum stand out too obviously from every seam lies in the uncertainty of the intervals at which money can be commanded and the impossibility of p:edicting at any time when or under what cirtoumstances any desirable garment can be' procured. To get around this trouble, so far as os slble, she so orders her wardrobe that old things and middle-aged things and new things shall belong together, and a brown hat with scarlet trimmings shall not find itself obliged to outlast the latter half of the life of a mlddle-aged blue and green plaid gown before a brown dress can be af forded to go with it. When she shops she shops as a matter of course for bargains, but she is not tempted by any except bar gains in blue. If oue year she buys a plain dark blue cloth, to be trimmed with a little black Dvs semouiterie or b :ri, the next year she may get a robe pattern with panels in a lighter blue end gray, and the next a fine check, but always something blue, or readily put, without quarreling, by the side of blue, so that her litt:o stok of ribbons and neck fixings rinds its use handily, and a fancy A HERPENT oilEEN GOWN. waist contrived to lengthen the life of one decrepit frock will perform the same ser vice for the next one, and there is never any difioulty about feathers or flowers. Out of doors she ranges from a black hat to a blue one, and when it comes to coats or jackets she chooses black almost invariably. He is she enabled to make both endis meet with entire neatness and good taste if not with brilliancy. "One winter." she says, "I let myself be drawn into buying a beautiful piece ol brown camel's hair because it was hand. some and cheap, but it threw all my cloth ing schemes off their balance for twelve months at least. It was almost the only hing I've ever bonught that I was anxious ,o see come to the rag bag." This scheme is so simple, so easy, and vithal so obvious that "X. E." very proba ely will have none of it; but if she wishes for my more of my economies I would recom nend carefully fitted shoes of moderate cost with some urgenocy. By "carefully itted" I mean that care should be taken to e sure they are large enough, for the wo nanwho subjects shoes to the"breaking in" process is extravagant financially as well as aruel to her tender understanding. It isn't possible to make feet look materially smaller by squeezing them, and it is easily possible to waste at least half the cost of one's shoe leather. Moderately high priced shoes pay for themselves in their greater durability, but above a moderate figure the extra price is for prettiness and not for wear. Economy is a good deal harder in some ways than it used to be because year by year tli run of a fashion is shorter and things more and more quickly become antiquated; but if I were "X. E." 1 would out off the tail of my dragging street dress to save ma terial, and put waterproof ribbons on my hat to save melting away in the first shower, and I would think three times before once I went shopping, and if my money wouldn't reach as far as I wanted it to I would look for a hard-bottomed chair and. read Thoreau. Scattered here and there in the cracks of this wasderinug talk are sketches of what "X. E." might look like if she dressed economically. The street dress which is to be imagined as serpent green wool is as simple and inexpensive as any costume need be. It has a bell skirt with a narrow edge of astrakhan at the bottom. It has a gathered hip basque and the neck in front is cut round, edged with braid and filled in with black velvet. The velves cuffs have astrakhan bands. The dress on which he Greek frets are conspicuous is a heather wool mixture with at pattern in beige silk braid, without which it would he very nearly as successful. The bodice is draped over the bust and held by a clasp. There are hip basques with pocket flaps and a cloth toque matches, withvelvet trimmings. The two plaid frocks tell their own story. Both have princess fronts and both are simple enough for a great variety of ma terials. Thbe bias plaid with revers of plain cloth is rather the prettier, with its flaring culls and velvet strap at waist held with metal buttons. ELLEN Osconu. Copyright. A Leader. Since its first introduction. Electric Bit ters has gained rapidly in popular favor, until now it is clearly in the lead among pure medicinal tonics and alteratives-con taining nothing which per'mits its use as a beverage or intoxicant, it is recognized as the best and purest medicine for all ail ments of etouiach. liver or kidners. It will cure sick hroadache, indigestion, con stipation, and dcive malaria from the systern. batie:acteon guaranteed with each bottle or the money will be refunded. Pries only 50 cents per bottle. Sold by It. ti. IHale & Co. California IExcursele. '1 he next excursion for California, which have become so popular via the Union Pa citic urltem, will leave Helena Friday, Jan uary 15th. Hound trip tickets, good going sixty days with final limit six months. will be sold as follows: San Francisco, $75; Los Angeles, $89. The above rates apply for tickets going and returning saime route. Choice of routes re turning will be given at low rates. 'Ihe Union Pacific is the shortest and much quicker route, and by far the moat preferable in winter. Sleeping car reservations may be secured through, and full information obtained by calling on or addressing H. O. WiLSOx, Freight and Passenger Agent, No. 28 North Main St., lelena, Mont. WVisdom's Violet ('ream is the most excuisite preparation in the world for softening and whitening the hands and face. It is not only a substitute for, but in every respect superior to glycer ine, cold cream, vaseline, and like prepara tions. 'T'ry it. Legal bl ka at this oitie. CHILDREN WHO HAVE MADE STORIES. BY FRANCES HODGSON BURNETT, AUTHOR OF LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEIIOY, WRITTEN ESPECIALLY FOR THE HELENA INDEPENDENT. O BEGIN WITH I NEVER BSAW him. At least I never saw anything of him but some photographs. And yet in all my gallery of children who have made stories there is no little figure more distinct to me or more full of intense jure nile character than that of illustissimo Signor Bebe. I called him this beeause he was such an all powerful and distinguished little person and because being an Italian, if he had been grown up, instead of five years old, his letters would have been ad dressed according to polite custom, Illus trissimo Signor, etc. His real name was Luigi Roberto, but no one ever called him so. He was always addressed and spoken of as Bebe, and so after hearing innumera ble and delightful stories of him in which he always figured as the most magniflocent autocrat and invariably managed to have his own way I fell in the habit of speaking of him as 'Illustrissimo Signor Bebe.' There is a little room in my house in London which has flowery walls and hang ings, rocker lounging chairs, and fanciful light bits of furniture. One of these bits of furniture is a fantastic little double shelved table with a chair equally light and fantastic, attached. I do not know why the chair is part of the table, as it is placed sidewise and nobody could sit in it and write on the table and in fact the table is not made to write on at all. It is too light and small. It is made only to hold books of trifling ornaments, and this table is dedicated to Illustrissimo Signor Bebe. In the first place there is a photograph upon a small easel. It is the picture of a most beautiful little boy of about four yeale old, and he seems to be far from pleased with the circumstances with which he finds himself surrounded. In fact, he looks distinctly pouting, but as charming as a disgusted and too-much photographed baby can be. The truth was, I believe, that being an infant professional beauty, he had been photographed to the verge of distraction and the limit of endurance, and finally had clutched his big sailor hat, clasped his arms over the back of his chair and rested his curl-laden head upon them, looking out under his eyelashes, and pouting at all the world-his mamma, the photographer (whom he regardedas a troublesome idiot), the little bird who would not fly out of the camera when he waited for him, and his mamma's friend and his own adorer and slave, the young lady who had used all sorts of devices to make him sit up and look good-tempered. iHe did not feel good tempered: he was an injured and bored person, and he did not intend to look as if he was pleased when he has really bored to death with the im bacilities of these people. So be put his head on his arm and dangled his loge. And the photographer hurriedly took the pret tiest picture Illustrissimo Signor Bebe had ever had. Nothing could have been pret tier-the tumbling mass of long curls fall ing over his shoulder and shading his round cheek, his rebellious little fece, his plump, mutinous lems, which looked as if they were ready to kick, his protesting dark eyes, and the indignaent pose of the arms, and the sailor hat, scornfully held, made not only a photograph but a picture which told its owl, Story. I should have quite adored it even if I had not beard all these stories about Illas trissimo Bignor Babe, and kept pace with his record, as it were, during a whole Flor entine winter. But knowing his little peculiarities, I delighted in it and laughed almost every time I saw it. The decoration which stands near it is in its own way equally interesting and char aeteristic. It is a letter boldly framed, and which has an easel also. It is not a very long letter, nor a very big one, but the handwriting is not in the least cramped. It has been allowed plenty of space and fills superbly a page and a half. If one were inclined to criticise, one might say that it was large and sprawling, and that the lines had a tendency to emulate the example of the illustrious writer and go where they pleased. But who would have the audacity and bad taste to criticise the very first literary effort of Illustriesimo Signor Bebe. At the same time it seems a pity that is should be copied in mere com mon everyday printing, instead of in the fearless and and volominous caligraphy of the author. "Cars Luisa," it reads, "Ti vogllo bsne e scrivo meglio ehe posso. Torna presto e ti mando an bacio affezionatissimo.-Luigi Roberto." In English it would be: "Dear Louise: I wiih thee very well" (an Italian phrase which really signifies 'I love II I -i I 'WHILE THE SOUP GOT COLD). you' in the same sense that friends and par. ents and children say it to eachother) "and I write as well as I possibly can. Come back soon and I send thee a very affectionate kiss. Lovur ItonalT." It was the very first letter of his life, written after the wonderful events of his first months at sOhool, where, after infinite diplomacy, he had finally been induced to permit himself to be escorted, with the full understanding that it was the beginning of his preparation for entering the Italian army, of which he had early announced his intention of becoming a general. It bad been composed by himself with many intellectual throes and had been for warded promptly to the young lady who had been the friend of his uneducated in fancy, and who had delightedly told me the stories which had made him so distinct and amusing a little personage to me. As he was only four years old when I first knew of him, and he was already quite a veteran, it may be argued that he had chosen his career of arms comparatively early in life. I never knew exactly when he became a warrior or when he began to demand uni forms and carry swords and guns, and ob ject eloquently with fire to the wearing of long curls and petticoats, as unbecoming an officer and a gentleman, but nearly all the anecdotes I heard of him had for their point some such pretext or demand as these. His surroundings were not ordinary ones. He was born to the infant purple, as it were. Emperors are supposed to issue mandates, czars are considered autocratic, kings and princes are regarded as having power, but for an omnipotent, unoombata ble potentate commend me to a beautiful, relative-worshiped baby who understands his privilege and is not averse to using them. Illustrissimo Signor Debe was not in the least averse and had fully appreciated his position from the first. In the first place he was a marvelous beauty, in the second he had a will of iron braced with steel, in the third he had a beautiful and brilliant mother who adored him. and a father *ho adored her, and in the fourth he had taken prompt and de cided possession of his entire family and their resources from his first hour. He had two brothers who were unusually fine and clever, but Signor Bebe considered them merely as adjunets which at times might be made useful. They were com paratively grown up and they had merely the accomplishments which could gain them admiration and prizes at school. They had short hair and wore ordinary clothee, and when they spoke only commanded ordinary attention. l'hey were not attired in billows of lace under mantles of crimson pluph, passers-by did not exclaim at the mere eight of their beauty; the moment they deigned to express an opinion or to make a little dramatic gesture, they did not find themselves attended by an enraptured and ecstatic audience. "I eat a croquer cet enfant," people ex olaimed. "Jolt comme on petit Amour aveo ses longues bouches blondes at sea grande yeux noire." (ie is pretty enough to eat, or to crunch between one's teeth like a 'bonbon,' to translate more exactly. "That child. HIe is as pretty as a little love, with his long blonde curls and his big block eyes.) Signor Babe heard a great deal of French spoken and spoke a little himself, but it must be confessed a very little. But tbles fact did not prejudice him when he desired to be sufficiently sweeping in his remarks to hja poor, long suffering, much trampled on German nurse. "I speak only Italian, Fronch, and Eng lish." he said. "No German. I hate Gor man. It is ugly and stupid. The Ger manse," with a seething glance at poor Mar oerethi, "are all stupid and uRly, too." Itargarethe knew nothing but German, and did not in the least understand Italian. It was sid to be rather a touohing speota cle to see her calmly beaming and de lighted countenance when the illustrissimo 'chivied' her in his mellifluous Tuscan, calling her "brutta, imbecille, stupida, Tedesoeaia," while she broadly smiled, imagining confidingly, it was said, that he was lavishing endearments upon her. She was a good, stupid soul, and was always ready to be his slave. It was she who dressed him laboriously, insert ing one kicking, dancing foot into his sock, and then heavily and seriously giving chase all over the house, while he ran from one room to another until she caught him and bore him back to his bed-room to put on the other. She ran miles during the performance of his toilet, and in warm weather ended it mopping her brows and exhausted, but still mildly beaming. It was she who was called upon to be the horse and be enthusiastically and realistically beaten by the illnstrissimo when he placed the chairs in a row to make a coach and play coachman himself. It was she who must be drilled and march with an um brellas or a poker over her shoulder, while the illustrious General Babe rated her vig orously for the lack of promptness and sol dierly grace in her maneuvers. It had never occurred to the illustrissimo that the whole world, and the fullness there. of, were not created solely that he might dispose of them for his own amusement. I do not think he ever asked for anything. Everything was given to him before he had time to ask. Apparently people sat up at night to invent things to give him. Su perb playthings were lavished- on him on every side. Wonderful uniforms, swords and guns and lances were made for him and sent by doting god-parents and in satiate adorers in various cities. He was an offioer oo infantry. of cavalry, of en- * gineers; he was a bereaglerie with broad, low hat and floating plumes; he was a cuirassier, a Uhlan, and, I believe, even a papal guard; everything military and bloodthirsty and brilliant in accoutre ments was Illustriesimo Signor Babe. When a military idea ocourred to him he simply ordered his nearest relatives to assist him to carry it out. "To-day I saw an officer's funeral," he would perhaps announce in the middle of dinner. "There were soldiers marching and there were drums. They went like this, "Boom, buom, buoml" thumping sol emnly on the table with the largest spoon he could appropriate. "There were fags and guns. The soldiers marched like this," scrambling down from his chair to illus trate with funeral dramatic action. "Papa, Godfredo, Osoarino-come and march. Andi we will have an officer's funeral. Papa, carry the fire-screen for a funeral banner. Godfredo carry the poker, and Oscarino the tongs. I will be the musio-Buom, buom, boom. That's the drum. Tra lira Is. That's the other musics." And it was absolutely necessary that he should be followed solemnly round the table in funeral pomp while the soup got cold. "At least show respect," he would esay fuaously to the brother who dared to gig gle, "It is a generale.' I do not know what would have happened if this family had refused to form the procession and had firmly continued eating their soup. I used to feel curious to know. But I never heard of such 'iconoclastic steps being taken. But notwithstanding the processions, the uniforms and weapons, he felt there were serious obstacles in the way of his military career. "Soldiers," lihe said, "do not wear long curls and petticoats. I have never seen one. What do they do on the field of bat tie! You," sternly to his mamma, "have never seen a general in a frock and sash and with curls." "Well, no," his mamma was obliged to admit, reluctantly. "The generals who rides by with the soldiers in the morning has no curle," he elaborated. "And he does not wear petti coats. I have noticed. "But perhaps he did when he was your age," said his mothbr. "I do not believe it. I shall salute him and ask him the next time I see him on the Lung Arno." And he walked up and down the salon gesticulating dramationlly. "Bel soldatol che porta sle eottaue Jiric oioli" (pretty soldiers who wear petticoats and curls). "Ma si signorel quando vedo it generale-glielo vollo proprio doman dare (Yes, sire, when I see the general I will indeed isk him)." I should have been very much charmed to have had the privilege of beine pr,.,t