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FOfi WOMEN AND HOME
ITEMS" OF INTEREST FOR AND MATRONS. MAIDS litlqcette and the Truth—The Bridal Attendenee—Motes of the Mode»— Some up-to-date Hints for the House hold. ETIQUETTE AND TRUTH. Imitations are so perfect nowadays that they deceive the very elect, and ""those who esteem themselves con noisseurs should be careful how they fcdmlre the fine lace, jewel nad tap estries belonging to their friends, lest they should less their reputation for discrimination. "What would you do in a case like this?" said an honest but tactful wom an the other day, "I have a bit of arras framed into my library and wall which is a capital imitation of the best Beauvais tapestry, but after all it is not gefiuine and I never have pre tended that it was. Some time ago Mrs. , who prides herself on her knowledge of curios of every descrip tion and is hersslf a great collector of tapestries, came to see me. 'What a beautiful specimen of Bsauvalsr she said as she was going out and noticed tlfe panel. 'Where did you get it?' Now, what was I to say? To tell her it was an imitation was to show her her mistake, which would undoubtedly vex and mortify her, while I did not like I to take the credit dishonestly, as far as I was concerned, of allowing her to believe my imitation tapestry was I genuine. I concluded, however, It j would be more tactful to let the matter pass without enlightening her, so I limply said, 'I got it in Paris,' and changed the subject; but now comes I tn£ dilemma. She is one of the pat ronesses of a loan exhibition which they are getting up for charity, and this morning I had a note from her THREE SMART COSTUMES. <w\P.r #• Tailor-made suit In brown checked ?oods, with trimmings of plain brown cloth, stitched. Medium length coat of blue broad cloth, elaborately embroidered in black jraid. FOR BRIDAI. ATTENDANCE. Ingenuity is racked these days to lovise fanciful costumes for bride îaids and train-bearers. Close lace baps for the little train-bearers are a fancy of the hour. At a recent wed ping in St. George's, Hanover square, London, the bride's train was borne L»y three little girls in empire gowns tf Ivory and white .chine silk veiled In white chiffon, with fichus of the Ihiffon and high mauve sashes. They fcarriocl baskets-j of mauve sweet peas tnd wore the close little lace caps. U another wedding there were two Irain-bearers who wore quaint long jvaisted Stuart frocks of white satin Lnd had white chiffon fichus caught together with white roses. The roses Lere used also to border the close lace }aps which the little maiden3 wore. There were nine Uridemaids at this |as( wedding and they were dressed in lose gowns with attention paid to Jvery detail, says the Daily News. Their dresses were of white mechlin ice over silk. The fril's of the skirt irere strewn with pink rose petals, and Reading the fril's all around were gar inds of pink roses and foliage. The /aists had transparent yokes and lleeves and were finished with fichus If'ruffled net covered with garlands of link roses and foliage. The s'eeves ver& caught at the e'bow with roses, hhe hats were composed entirely of |ose petals, the crowns were wreathed pith roses!, and there were great lunches of them on the turned-up Irims. asking me if I would do them the favor of lending them my "beautiful specimen of Beauvais tapestry.' I am at my wits' end to know what I ought to do about It. Of course, if I refuse it will seem churlish, and under the circumstances I certainly cannot ex plain! "—Daily News. NEW FRENCH HOLDB r «T.* \ brown cloth, wit* brown velvet vest, mink trimming. Afternoon gown of pearl gray cash mere, made up with narrow bands of light blue velvet and ecru lace collar. Riches can buy a man a whole lot of trouble. HOUSEHOLD HINTS. Starch left over after the ironing day should not be thrown away. A little boiled Defiance starch added to the hearthstone used on doorsteps will make them last longer and cold-water starch can be allowed to settle, when the liquid can be poured off and the rest left to dry for use again. The best background for pictures is plain terra cotta or brown paper. A woman who is the proud possessor of many old prints and engravings has them in her dining-room. The walls are covered with w.apping paper, or something that locks veiy like it, and above is a frieze of orange distemper. The picture rails and woodwork are white. The hangings are of orange colored velveteen. All the furniture is mahogany. A simple and easily made dessert of rice and peaches is always delicious and is especially adapted to children and persons with delicate appetite. Boil rice, taking care that every kernel shall be dry and separate from every other one. Heap It In a glass dish. Peel and slice some peaches and cover them with sugar. Turn the fruit over the rice and serve hot, with cream and powdered sugar. Chopped pineapple is delicious prepared in the same way. A small toque Is excessively unbe coming above a large, round face. It is the unconventional woman who has a mania for attending conven tions. A heart is lost In the game of golf! Cupid has taken charge of the green, And hazards are frequent, nigh and off, With a stymie constanvly between. The victim studies his charmer's play, Follows her course with an anxious eye, Hoping she'll land in the self-same way, Making the game a like-as-we-lie. The parson's niblick would help them then. For to the altar the course, would be, And when the game would begin again A wedding-ring would serve as the tee. As single players no more arrayed Against each other, but man and wife, Their future would be a series played Of foursomes upon the links of life. — F. W. W. Between Heart and Bayonet. BY JAMES NOEL JOHNSON. (Co pyright, 1901, by Daily Story Pub. Co.) "Boys," cried the Colonel, dashing up, "do you see that redoubt?" The Colonel paused but a second. He had spoken with the air of one who is granting a favor rather than delivering a command. Capt. Blake and Lieut Summers an swered with an exultant shout that echoed from every lip In their com pany. A single Impulse throbbed in each heart simultaneously, and the leap of one foot was the movement of all. Until now the company had stood, all their arteries conduits of burning flame. Their faces gave evidence of the repressive struggle within them. They had cast sullen, envious eyes on other ranks of men that, loosed from restraint, were hurrying, like glad streams, into the sea of action. Oh, the sickening agony, the soul neuralgia of the brave soldier who is compelled for a time to become the passive objector of roaring conflict! The wild shouts of his brother troop ers in action ring in his ears, firing his enthusiasm, but his feet are chained to the ground. . All around him and through him runs the thrill of battle. His nerves are leaping and vibrating like strings swept by heroic melodies, but he is chained to passivity. Ever and ânon a -shot strikes into the human wall. À man detached drops and lies on the ground. There is re proach in the fading eyes, for the man had been shot as he stood as helpless as if tied to a tree. But now the Colonel's word had cut the thongs from Capt. Blake's impa tient men, and gave them the liberty of action. And each man pressed for ward as if victory sat on the hill to be claimed by him alone. An accommodating wind shouldered aside the masses of smoke and exposed the redoubt. About the mouths of the great guns was blown the foaming clouds of death. The redoubt seemed a great monster idol, belching flame and destruction to the feet of which hundreds of human sacrifices were already being cast. Capt. Blake and Lieut. Summers charged In front of their exultant KS r\ Each saw her In the scene. troopers, their swords lifted in glitter ing menace. They had no need to cheer on their men. To keep free and ahead of the exultant rush was all the officers needed to do. Each of the two officers knew that, in that sublimed moment, his mind was in many things the reflex of the oth er's. Images In their • respective minds were flying as swiftly as the-missiles of death that both worshiped with tho frenzy of idolatry. " Above that instinctive purpose of shattering the monster on the hill, each man saw laurels, blood red, he expected to clasp and carry away to be proudly placed at the baautitul fo^t of Christine Egglestone. She was at home-— each «aw her <a the same anxious attitude, at the door way, a soft hand -ooflng her eyes, gaz ing toward the south. The men rushed, shoulder to shoulder, but at which was she gazing most anxiously? Neither could tell—each had his hope and his fear. But the uncertainty of It all flew through the soul of each like a sword. Each officer had a clear premonition tnat but one of the two would escape that cauldron of death. Blacker grew the clouds, and the peals of thunder fused into a continu ous roar. Vague lightning played through the wall. Mén dropped like ripe fruit from a shaken tree. Shouts of exultation often dropped Into dying groans. Still unharmed, side by side, the rival officers fought, the same Im pulses moving their bodies, the same vision flaming in their minds. But if each officer knew the other's A ■w c r. Drove his shoulder like a glut. mind was engaged with the same thoughts and images, he couldn't re sist the belief that the other held a dark purpose in addition unworthy of himself, but to be expected in the other. They were enemies, of course. In self-defense they couldn't wish each other well. "He'd rather die than lose Christine. He'd see me die with secret joy. I believe he would kill me if he knew he would never be suspected. I am too magnamlnous. I am too chivalrous to nourish such a thought respecting him, but I am sure he would kill ;ne if he could. I'll be between . twin perils throughout this action." This horri ble suspicion flew through the jealous mind of Capt. Blake, and, with refer ence to the Captain, it sped on through the jealous heart of Lieut. Summers. Each, in his present morbid state, furious with two passions, wrongly felt the other would connive at his death! No,w the men are in the very teeth of the awful monster. Great mouths open iand spurt out tearing missiles of death* All sounds, small and tremen dous, run together in a continuous roar that becomes half silence. All passions are reduced to one. primal, elemental desire—the lust of slaughter. This is the pressing, omnivorous instinct. From the rim of that vortex, hope, love, despair, fear, all fly like feeble wisps of vapor. Through plunging arm; through pressing foil; through pointed eyes; through lifted lip; through sing ing nostril, but one feeling surges— the lust of slaughter. m Lieut. Summers is at the side of his rival, and both fight with that cool resolution and tremendous execution of fearless men exalted by a dual purpose. Suddenly, without experiencing any distinct pain, Lieut. Summers felt the strength flow from his great arms. Out stretched, their weight overbalanced him, and he dropped forward. Bells sang in his ears a moment, but by om nipotent will force he struggled to his all-fours, and then gained his feet by the assistance of Capt. Blake. A feeble thread of smoke was then seen crawl ing from his coat a little below the heart. "My laurels for my grave!" he grim ly thought, and smiled. The next instant a dim, straight ob ject came plunging down through the smoke, spearing toward the heart of Capt. Blake. In the snarl of the crowd and jam, he had no power to avoid it, had he known it was coming. Would neither brave man go back with lau rels? Instantly Lieut. Summers, with the last spurting energy of a dying flame, drove his shoulder, like a glut, between the bayonet and Its Intended sheath. Now the death-dealing monster had blown its last breath. The great guns died in sudden silence, and above the ecnoes arose the lusty shout of vic tory. Lieut. Summer-, saw laurels through fading eyes. A great, strong hero, his grimy face streaked with tears, bent over him. "Forgive me!" he began. "Oh, don't mention that," spoke the dying man. "Forgive me for my un worthy suspicion. Now, go home with laurels—yours and mine. Take them all to—to her." Nothing is eeer done beautifully which is done in rivalship, nor no bly which is done in pride.—John Ruskin. The more of a sponge a man is, the less he tries to keep a c^ean record. WOMEN'S BOARD Of TRADE. Organization at Santa Fe In Existence Since 1893. A novelty in the way of women'» clubs Is the Woman's Board of Trade» at Santa Fe, N. M. It was first or ganized in 1893 for the purpose of en abling its members to visit the worid'al fair at Chicago. It took to itself thei name "Board of Trade'' to denote its practical objects. After the exposition' it turned its attention to city improve ment. Santa Fe, like all cities both in old and New Mexico, has a plaza in the center of the town. The plaza at Santa Fe -ts a place of great his toric Interest, many of the salient events of the history of the territory having occurred there. On one side it Is boundèd by the governor's palace, a long abode building which has been the seat o£ authority ever since New Mexico was a crown colony of Spain. With this interesting old building on one side and the best, shops and hotel« of * the city on the other three, the plaza should have been an ornament to the town. Instead ti was sunken and irregular in surface, covered with a rank growth of alfalfa and sur rounded by an old wooden fence. The Woman's Board of Trade took vigor ous possession of the plaza. They transformed the surface into a fine level lawn, replaced the old fence with an elegant stone coping and erected a handsome drinking fountain. This was not only an achievement in itself, but gave an impetus to like improvements throughout the city. The board has also established a free library and reading-room, which now contains several thousand good vol umes. It has a visiting and relief committee, which looks after strang ers and gives them a welcome, a boon in a city to which so many sick and unfortunate victims of tuberculosis bend their steps. It also has a com mittee on prevention of cruelty to ani mals. The board is recognized by tax payers and city government as an ac tive factor in successful municipal government. Notwithstanding its splendid achievements it has no com mand of public funds, but Buch is its standing in the community that it has never had any trouble in raising suf ficient money for its work. POMPEIAN PAINTING. Beautiful Young Woman Seated on a Bronze Chair. At Bosco Reale, near Naples, an in teresting group of Pompeian houses has just been uncovered and the stu dent of painting is astonished to find figure-work there reminding him more fourteenth-century than of first century endeavors. In one of the most striking of these figures a young woman is seated on a bronze chair, a chair of singularly beautiful form. She is playing the lyre. Her features and expression are pleasing and viva clous. Her hair is curled and she wears a white robe. She curiously holds her instrument with the right hand and plays with the left. Behind the chair a young girl is standing, probably a maid. From her expres sion and from her position, we sup pose that she is listening with inter est to the music of her mistress. This composition~Ts one of much simplicity and naturalness, and it seems to have been done, not by many, but by a few strokes—by the frankness and sure ness of the hand of a master, Signor Baldassare Odescalchi, Senator of the Kingdom of Italy, has recently writ ten an interesting article on these dis coveries for the "Nuova Antologia," and voices the surprise of all that such harmonious composition, such correct defign, and such remarkable colouring could have existed and yet not have been better known. Until the other day it was supposed that the frascoes at Pompeii itself represented the high est form of art of the period. A Michigan Town. The arrival stepped up to the hotel counter, swung the register around and signed his name: "John Smith, Michigan." "Ah, Mr. Smith," said the clerk with that hospitable manner of the true hotel clerk, "what's the best word in Kalamazoo?" Mr.' Smith turned pale as if he had been caught in the very act. "How did you know r was from Kalamazoo?" he inquired in surprise, for he had never been in that hotel before. "Oh," laughed the clerk, "I've been in the hotel busi ness a long time, and I never saw one of them put down the name of his town yet. The only others I know of like that are from Oshkosh." Mr. Smith didn't know just what to say in reply, so he said it, and went on up stairs to his room, thinking.—New York Sun. Native Seed Best. Like Indian corn, the tomato is best when the seed is produced in the same latitude and elimate where the crop is to be grown, and it seldom doos its best the first season when taken far north or south of its native locality. Let us be of good cheer 4 remember ing that the misfortune hardest to bear are those which, never come.— Lowell.