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Perils By MARY CECIL HAY This is a captivating serial. It is from the gifted pen of Mary Cecil Hay, and, like all of the roinauces of that popular authoress, deals with love and plot !u a natural yet interesting way that charms the reader and sustains the interest to the very last chapter. ' This story deals with true heart his toric i and modern home life. There are some exquisite scenes depicted, and incidents that in a pathetic yet power ful way show the true depths of the love and devotion of a true womanly spirit. The heroine is a strong char acter, and the progress of the serial most entertaining. CHAPTER I. A solitary house, standing square and rigid in the deepening dusk of the March evening • and, from one of its lower win dows, the firelight struggling behind the glass to brighten a pair of wide young eyes which were peering out, and to take for an instant into its warm and pitiful embrace a little chill form which pressed ciosely to the panes. It was a wonder, too, that the firelight should care to struggle out in the dark ness. When there were such comfortable quarters for it indoors. So Lorraine Gaveston thought, as she gazed in upon the warm, well-furnished room, and felt how little she should care to leave it if once she could effect a safe and secure entrance. On a low chair before the fire, holding her white, idle hands between her face and the flam. sat a girl of sixteen, with a gentle, delicate face, bright, fair hair, and a slight, graceful 6gure, womanly enough already to show that its growing days had passed. Avery pretty picture Una Gaveston, sitting thus in her pleas ant firelit sitting room, would have made to any eyes; but to those envious ones beyond the window panes it was a picture full of exquisite beauty, and warmth and happiness and love. With a passing vexation on her face, the little watcher drew hurriedly back when the room door was opened from without tr admit a maid servant carrying in the tea. The child noted how her elder sister turned her head to speak, and she could guess how gentle and how kind the words would be; then she waited, si lent and motionless, until the maid had left the room again. Would it be safe to venture now? Again the door was opened, and Una’s governess entered, a pleasant looking, gray-haired lady, whose first act was to lay a caressing hand on Una’s cheek. The child started forward, as if the chilliness without had suddenly become unbearable to her, and tapped quickly on the window pane. Una and Miss Shefford started back, alarmed for a moment; then, see ing the face at the low window, they let the child into the warmth, and light, and shelter. “Where’s papa?’’ “Gone to Rohve to dine. He will be away all the evening,” Miss Shefford answered; while Una, laughing, yet al most crying, too. caught her little sister in her arms, and kissed her. All the cau tion, all the unsatisfied longings were gone from the child’s face now. She danced about the room and cried, "Oh, joy ! oh. joy!”—and flung her arms around her sister’s neck and kissed the grave old lady, and won such an excited brilliance in her eyes that Miss Shefford caught herself wondering almost sadly at the diffeyep.ee which happiness could make in the child. “But what does it all mean, Lorraine?” asked her sister, anxiously. “How did you come? What about Aunt Farrissey?” “By train from London, and never mind about Aunt Farrissey,” returned the child, impatiently. "I won’t have her ugly old name mentioned. I’m come, that's quite enough for you to i-now, and to have to keep secret. May I have tea? Oh! Una. if I could always be with ” The words were broken off abruptly, and the child shrank back, a sudden pale ness overspreading her small gypsy face, for a footstep was advancing along the passage. Una followed her with a smile. “Don’t be startled, dear. It is Rourke Trenham, I expect. He generally comes here when papa goes to Hohve to dine with Mrs. Trenham. It’s a relief to him to get away.” “From his mother?” questioned Lor raine. without advancing. “Well, she isn’t his own mother, you know. Do you forget these things?” “I forget nothing,” was the emphatic answer. Rourke Trenham heard it as he entered the room, and, tracing it to its source, gazed astonished at the muffled figure of the child still drawn hack in the recess; and for the few moments that he did so her eyes were fixed upon him with delib erate inquisitiveness. So they stood through those moments of their first meet ing, and never through all the after years could one of them forget the thought which lay behind that gaze, nor could the other bear to recall it. “I believe you two have really never met before,” said Una, taking her little Bister's hand; “but, Rourke, you surely know enough of Lorraine to need no in troduction.” Miss Shefford turned away, smiling at the unaffected, old-fashioned speech of the girl of sixteen. “Lorraine, is it? Oh! I know all about her. How do you do? You certainly look rather dishevelled and seedy,” remarked Rourke, with a laugh in his eyes, as he shook the small, cold hand, “but I hope you are pretty well.” Lorraine, coming forward to enjoy the firs, in a spirit of sudden friendliness in fori.el him that she was as well as she could desire, and moreover that she had run away. “And how long do you intend to stay?” “As long as I can keep hidden from papa.” "Oh, hush. Lorraine, dear,” cried Una, laying her fingers on her little sister’s restless lips, “it sounds almost wicked; we must tell papa." "But I shall be more comfortable if we make an agreement. Suppose you promise me not to tell, and 1 promise to do the next thing as you ask me.” “A most tempting offer.” mused Rourke, taking his own seat opposite Una, “and not terms to be lightly rejected. I'll turn it over in my mind.” A tall, well-made fellow of twenty years: his head set nobly on his shoul ders. his movements easy and possessing a certain natural grace; his eyes laugh ingly. even mischievously, bright. “They look something like wet violets," ghe fancied to herself, seeing nothing— child that she was—of the fierce passion which lay dormant behind their happy, laughing gentleness. And he. amused by her examination, even reading the evident approval of her gaze, began to criticise, in his turn, jhe uplifted gypsy face. He noted a pair of dark, unsatisfied eyes, the whites of which had such a marvelous clearness that at times it made their brightness almost dazzling, while at other times it made their gentleness most touching. This pe culiarity, and the straight, delicate brows above, gave them a wonderful look of purity and innocence. He noted that her lips, though not small, were curved and sensitive, exhibiting the white and even teeth, when they parted, in a rare, quick smile; or twitching pitifully for a mo ment, and closing suddenly in a not less rcre frown. He noted a low forehead from which were pushed bunches of thick, soft Itair, cut short like a boy’s, and his eyes took in just these things and nothing more. “A queer little party,” he thought laz ily. “I am so enjoying myself,” she said; “you are. all of you, so nice.” “The child is wearied out,” said Miss Shefford. “This has been an exciting day for her. I will take her to bed, for I s/ip pose we must not tell the servants of htr arrival.” “Brava !” cried Rourke carelessly. Then he turned to wish Uno good-bye. with a manner and tone as gentle as had been Lorraine's to himself. Very slowly lie went toward home after he had left Rupert’s Rest, walking listlessly along the turnpike' road until he reached—the dis tance was not more than a mile —the tall iron gates of Hohve. Passing through a small one adjoining the outer lodge, he ".vent on, still sauntering in the darkness, up the drive ; a public way this was. and he met one or two people taking it to night as a short cut from the village of Kumley to the town of Atton. Rourke, though he could not recognize their faces, exchanged good-nights as they passed. When he had closed behind him the sec ond gates, and left the second lodge in darkness, he stood a minute hesitating. "When the estate is my owa,” thought Rourke, as he leaned idly on the gate, “I shall have this laid iu lawn, as I in tend to hold WinterfielJ in my own hands and see what can be made of it. It is a capital old farm, rich land and profitable, I should think, if managed properly; rath er a handstme old-fashioned place, too, and I fancy i ltogether would repay great labor if great labor could be bestowed upon it. I believe the tenants haven’t done it justice lately. Well, I shall see what I can do when Hohve is mine. Of course, it ought to be mine already—l managing for my stepmother, instead of my stepmother managing for me, or rath er letting her mean-spirited steward take all authority from both of us—but never mind, he isn’t worth worrying over. Let me see, I’ll have rows of elms planted here, as in the home avenue, twenty feet from the drive on either side, and with the grass smooth and well kept.” Rourke, leisurely making his,plans as he leaned there, whistled to himself idly the while. The sound must have entered the little ivy-covered cottage, for present ly a woman opened the door and peered out into the gloom, the light behind her clear and strong. "Mr. Newley, is it you, sir?” Of the sudden scorn upon Rourke’s face as he turned it to the light she caught a glimpse, and instantly repented her words. “No, it is I, Miriam,” he said, in the cool, proud tone which he seemed to know there would be no mistaking; “what do you want with Newley?” “I don’t want him, sir,” the woman answered hurriedly; “I only thought, if it was him.” Avoiding, in a sudden new resolution, the way he had chosen, he returned to the chief avenue and walked . on, still slowly, between the rows of grand old elms, to the principal entrance of the house. As he ascended the steps a young man met him, and stopped to speak. “I was coming to look round for you,” he said. The lights from the hall were falling full upon him, and they showed a man of five or six and twenty, of mid dle height, with well-formed, aquiline fea tures and fair, pointed whiskers. They revealed the smile of affability upon his lips, showed the easy self-confidence with in his light gray eyes, and the cool, practiced gaze which had power to hide all but his confidence and affability. “It is prayer time,” Horton Newley said, “and Mrs. Trenbam is waiting only for you.” The light fell fully now on both the young men, but neither was looking into the other’s face. “She need pot have troubled herself to wait only for no,” rejoined Rourke, aim ing the fragment of his cigar into the mouth of the old cannon which stood be side the great stone portico. “She had her servants; they are generally all-suffi cient for her.” “On the contrary,” said Newley, with a slow tightening of his lips, "she likes to have both yourself and me.” Rourke paused for a moment, literally aghast at the covert insolence of this speech, then sauntered on without an swering. There were times when the cool impertinence of this man—profess edly his mother’s steward—failed to move hint to anything but a lazy, dispassionate contempt. From the great chill hall, Rourke en tered the dining room where his step mother always conducted the ceremony of evening prayers, and where she sat now at the table, with her heavy Bible open before her, while she waited in fret ful inaction for the two young men. Rourke entered first, and advancing to the hearth, threw himself into an ease chair and let his hands lie idly on its broad low arms. There was something iu his whole bearing, as well ns in his ,nttitude so carelessly, and indeed uncon sciously, suggestive of the master of the house, that Mrs. Trenham’s eyes, after following him, turned a little deprecac iugly to Horton Newley. He answered tbe look with the very slightest smile, the verj slightest, yet withal one of perfect satisfaction. He had taken a seat apart from the servants entirely, but not en tirely apart from Rourke, and he sat ready o listen in motionless re ercnce tc the words of Holy Writ: his right palm sjpporting his left elbow, and his left palm supporting his chin, while his eyes were fixed attentively on Mrs. Tren ham’s. A slight contrast, thought the servants —sitting in a row across the further end of the long room —to the young master, as he lay there almost at full length, his eyes closed; asleep, as likely as not. CTTAPTER 11. At the distance of about a mile and n half from Rupert's Rest, there stood an old .arm, called "The Xarroway,” con sisting of a low black-andJwhite gabled house, standing in a prim, old-fashioned garden, and three hundred acres of land, well looked after and made to yield (o the very utmost what it was capable of yielding under the vigilant eye of its mas ter. A shrewd, practical farmer was Abraham Bartle. never telling of the loss of a fatted beast or the failure of a crop; never confessing to have been taken in iu the ma ter of a bargain, never grumbling at the weather, even in harvest time; yet withal the simplest seeming yeoman in the s’-ire. and to all appearance governed despotically by his acidulated housekeeper. After his father's death. Rourke Tren ham. merrily defying his stepmother's wishes in the matter, appeared frequently at the Xarroway; all the more frequently because Abram Bartle was never asked to enter Hohve. The farm was a pleasant place to Rourke. and his uncle's hearty welcome and honest affection were sweet to tbe lad’s heart, though he could not yet guess half the riches of the man's warm love. Mr. Bartle, though an ea ser, had not left his room on the g after our story open*, when he was aware of nnusual signs of life and motion beneath hi* window. Fie opened it & little way and listened. He knew the two voices that were arguing together, a* well as he knew any voices in the world, but be only heard the end of tbe colloquy. “Don’t I tell you. Miss Lorraine, that yon shall not *et your muddy boots on that clean carpet cover in tbe parlor, -nor on the stairs. I’ve only this morning put ’em down, and I won’t see all my work spoiled. One might just aa well have a plowed field lying between here and the master’s room.” “But look here, Mrs. Whinnipeg; is it i right for your Alderney—Buttercup, you know—to have broken her fence and be wandering away into the turnpike road?” “Right 1 I should thiqjc not. Why couldn’t you speak before? Thomas is out of hearing now—sure to be; and if I go myself, the master’s ham is safe to burn. It’s on the point of done already.” “You just go after Buttercup. Mrs. Whinnipeg. and I’ll mind the ham; don’t you worry about it.” The old man’s head retreated from the window. He was chuckling with amuse ment over the tableau presented to his mind's eye, of his own new cook, and of Mrs. Judith Whinnipeg conscientiously rushing after Buttercup. Two minutes afterward there came an impatient tap upon his door. “Mr. Bartle. be quick, please.” said a young eager voice. “I’ve only got a lit tle time, and I don’t want to waste it without you, yet the ham may burn if I stay here.” (To be continued.) INDIANS HOLD SUN DANCE. Annnal Ponca Festival as Held at the 10l Hunch. The great gatherings of the Ponca tribe of Indians on their tribal lands, adjoining the ”101 Ranch,” Bliss, Okla., is now at its full tide, and the level fields of this big tract of land, known as the Ponca reserve, are the scenes of festivities that will some day not far distant become memories even for those who now participate in their activities, says a Whiteagle (Okla.) dispatch to the Kansas City Star. Commanding an uninterrupted view of the great rolling pasture land, the white tented city encircles the tract in one unbroken sweep over which the smoke of the myriad fires of the tepee dweller rises like once his signal smoke wreaths from the western hills. The barking of Indian dogs, the shouting of little red children and the crooning of old squaws add to the scene. This annual sun dance, is more than a gathering for religious rites, for it brings together once a year remnants of friendly tribes, Including Omahas, Osages, Raws, Otoes and Pawnees, who meet here In a bond of common fellowship. Robbed of the sacredness of its inception as well as the atrocities and barbarous cruelties that marked its observance In the past, the dance to-day, spectacular barbarian extrava ganza, is to its participants what the modern drama is to its artists. In lieu of dry-mouthed fasting, continued for days under other tortures of the flesh and self inflicted abuses, the cere monials are now attended with soda pop, watermelons and orangeade. The priest worship their “Great Spirit Fa ther” in the glare of publicity to add to their shekels, through the Influx of visitors, attracted to the rites per formed by priests and attendants, clad in their brown complexions accentuat ed by a few eagle feather accessories. The week’s programme will consist of round of barbecues and much feast ing, followed by the sun dance proper, when the dance will be signalled by a charge upon the village by armed horsemen, the first dance which fol lows being the war dance. The night will be given over to the priests’ cere monies and the programme will con tinue without break until Sunday morning, when worn with much 1 list ing and jaded with dancing, the Pon cas will rest and contemplate what mercies they have obtained for the coining year. Only one pale face will participate in the sun dance, George L. Miller of “101 Ranch,” who will lead the first assault upon the village as a full fledged warrior in paint, feathers and war bonnet. The first barbecue tendered the chief, Horse Chief Eagle, was given by Mr. Miller. To this the entire gathering was bidden. Makes Cloud, an aged leader of the tribe, prepared the bar becue and 'n return extended hospital ities to ~~e ranchmen and tenderfoot camp. Took No Chance*. He had proposed but she had given him the frigid mitt—seemingly; but five minutes later they were busy swap ping kisses. “But if you really and truly loved me, w r hy did you turn me down at first?” queried the puzzled young man. “Oh, that was just a whim of mine,” she replied. “I wanted to see how you would act.” “But suppose I had rushed off with out giving you a chance to explain?” he said. “Impossible,” she answered. “I had the door locked.” Jut Like a Bachelor. They were strolling along the lake front. “The waves must be feminine,” re marked the tall bachelor. “Ah,” hastened the girl. “because they are so pretty?” “No, because they are always saying something and no one knows what they are saying.” And after that she said baehelors were the meanest men In the world. A Lesson in Economy. While a penurious grocer was telling his new boy how careful he must be. a fly settled on a bag of sugar. The grocer caught It and threw It away. The boy then said: “If yon want me to be careful, you are setting me a bad example." “Why?” asked the grocer. “Because.” said the boy. "you have thrown that fly away without brushing the sugar off its feet.” Cleveland Leader. In Doubt, “That’s a curious looking mule you’re driving." remarked the man who was whittling a pine stick. “Yassir,” answered Mr. Erabtus Pink ley. “He is kind o’ cur’us.” “What will you take for him?” "What'll I take fob him? Say. boss, is yon referrln’ to Mat mule as a piece o’ property or an affliction?”—Wash ington Star. She Hail Been There. “Of course. ’ sighed the young man who had been handed the frigid mitt, “you don't know what it is to have loved and lost." “Oh. yes I do,” answered the icy hearted maid. “My pet dog died last week.” ThU la Awful. “It’s queer that women are so fond of tea." remarked the cheerful idiot. "Why is it queer?" asked the type writer boarder. “Because.” explained the e. L, “It is the beginning of trials, troubles and tribulations.” Montreal (Can.) unionists are pre paring to erect the finest labor tem ple in North America. It will coat ; *700,000. Woman’* Mistaken Ambition. The main trouble with people in gen eral, and the greatest cause of unhap piness and crime, is lack of sense. People do not get life in its proper fo cus; they see things wrongly. They are incapable of the trust imposed upon them —that of doing the best they can with the given means. Men have not seuse enough to see that in making their wives happy they make themselves happy, and women’s minds can not grasp the fact that in improving their own minds and char acters they are insuring themselves a truer satisfaction than in trying to keep up with the style of the neigh bors. I am a strong believer in the doc trine that we get what we go after in the world, if we go after it in the right way. Women have been going after their “rights” in the wrong way. There is not, and can not be, any where, in any sphere of life, a better or happier position for a woman than to be the wife of a good, sensible, kind man. That such men do not grow upon trees it is needless to state, and unfor tunately the few who are possessed of fine character are often joined to light minded women incapable of appreciat ing them. I am, generally speaking, opposed to women in business. I think her pres ence there is a detriment to society. Her natural sphere is in the home. And it is in the home that she is so badly needed. There Is just now a crying need for the old-fashioned home atmosphere that was part of the early civilization of our country. Women need to turn back to the domestic pursuits that made their grandmothers such a power in the land. They need to give up the frivolous turn they have lately taken. The highest ambition of a majority of / our women at present is to be regu lar society women. This is a very poor SOME BECOMING SHADE HATS and low ideal, but it chimes in with our modern doctrine of cutting a figure in the world. This is the most mistaken idea that was ever drilled into the heads of young people by enthusiastic, but misguided parents and teachers. That we should make a big splash in tbe world, do something of renown, get our names In the papers and be persons of consequence. llow much wiser and better if we might be simply contented and happy people, shielded from the critical pub lic eye, and mercifully granted the blessing of a peaceful and quiet home with all of home’s beatitudes about us. Why women are seeking the hard path of public life I can not imagine, but the motive is certainly not a high one. It is woman’s mistaken ambition that is taking her into the crowded avenues of trade, or is it the growing hardness of our social conditions that Is driving her from the home nest to take a hand in the day’s work that was never intended for her?—Juliet V. Strauss. As To Length of Slcirfs. Skirts are longer. For all but the typical- walking suits they are very long and sweeping, while the street suits have taken on another inch and just escape the ground. This rule will apply to the wash materials, and wash ma terials are going to prevail to an ex tent not known for many seasons. Frocks of this order will be made up in the same semi-tailored style as rules other fabrics at present. If anything, the skirts will be more elaborately trim med, but always in such a way as to lose none of that semi-tailored appear ance. For this reason frills are ta booed, or when used are flattened by cross strips and bandings. For linen suits which will ho'd first place among washable materials, colored trimmings will be popular. The Tactful Doctor. A physician in a small town in Northern Michigan got himself into a serious predicament by his inaunity to remember names and people. One day. while making out a patient’s receipt, his visitor’s name escaped him. Not wishing to appear so forgetful, and thinking to get a clew, he asked her whether she spelled her name with an e or i. The lady smilingly replied: ’Why, doctor, my name is Hill.”—Suc cess Magazine. Dame- ?* One French gown of black chiffon is entirely lined with pompadour silk, with a black background and the roses j showing with elusive color through the ! outer folds of the chiffon make the j dress beautiful in the extreme. Venetian bead necklaces are having, a great vogue, the delicate colors and i combinations serving to enhance any •ostume to which they are allied. Small er beads, worked after the old-world style into chains and necklaces, are also in great requtst. Many of the most costly summer wraps are lined with gauze, which is shirred and quilled and made quite sep-1 arate from the outside, caught only at j the edges. The edges of such a wrap ; were all scalloped and have a rim of the gauze lining extending like a little frill beyond the silk of the outside. A black taffeta mantle is lined with rasp berry colored silk. No more useful garment could be in cluded in a trousseau for debutante or bride than a princess slip of pompadour silk. It is charming when worn under lingerie gowns in timmer or under crepe and chiffon in winter. Dainty aprons and matinees are made from alternate strips of wash ribbon and val. lace. For the girl who wear* flannel prettier than a ruffle of wash silk and lace, which, by the way, does not cling to the form as flannel does. There is a long coat effect about many of the tunics cf fashionable tailor mades. The appearance is the result of the running of the short lines of the bodices into the long lines of the skirts. In the majority of cases the princess cut makes this easi’y accomplished, but when bodice and skirt are separate the same effect is very frequently given. Character and Toilet. Your everyday toilet is a part of your character. A girl who looks like a “fury” or a sloven in the morning is not to be trusted, however finely she may look in the evening. No matter how humble your room may be, there are eight things it should contain, viz.: A mirror, washstand, soap, towel, comb, hair, nail and tooth brushes. These are just as essential as your breakfast, before which you should make good and free use of them. Oiling Shoe*. Leather is composed of a mass of tinv fibers, interlaced and interlocked, one with the other, very intimately. If they are in good, live condition they will lie very pliable and elastic and stand a great amount of stretching, but if hard and dry, when strain Is placed upon them they will break instead of yield- ing. Good leather oils are offered for sale at most shoe stores, but if one prefers to make his own mixture he can do so by melting together slowly one part of beef tallow and two parts of pure neatsfoot oil. Apply this mixture warm to the shoee, rub in well, and the life of the shoe will be doubled. New Underclothes. Combination underclothes are be coming more and more the rage. Al most all the corset covers and petti coats that one sees for sale are fast ened together around the waistline. Both bodice and skirt are made on the circular pattern, so that there is as little fullness as possible around the waist and hips, and they are joined to gether by beading through which rib bon is run. It is a very attractive looking garment for negligee, but it is far more trouble to keep them both clean and fresh than it is to care for only one piece at a time. The reason for the innovation was, of course, the return of the Empire go.vn, but the Princess slip of lace and naim >ok is a far more becoming gown to the figure than is the combination. A New Coiffure. The Small, Thin Woman. The first suggestion is to preserve the height and also maintain breadth. As short skirts tend to take away the height, skirts should be as long as possible. Slender women should wear princess and enjpire models, as height is reck oned by the leug! from the waist line. For street wear the plaited skirt un trimmed is very much the best choice. With this the coat must be either short or very long, as a three-quarter length will not be becoming. Black hats should not be worn, for j wh n a black hat is worn the height j seems to stop at the face. This may be avoided by wearing a touch of white on the bat. so that the eye may be carried beyond the face. Trimming on her dresses should be arranged lengthwise when it is of con trasting figure. A stylish arrangement by which the hips of the slight w man are brought j into prominence is to commence the trimming below the hips. The large hat will seriously detract from tile height of the small woman and she should for this reason select a sisall or medium-sized one. A Hurried Supper Dish. For a little supper dish whipped up in a hurry, cook half a pint of toma- j toes or three good-sized ones until they are reduced to a tender pulp. Se-.son j with two teaspoonfuls of butter, salt! and pepper, and stir in three eggs. When the mixture is creamy serve without delay. FASHIONABLE BUFF AND WHIT* Buff linen embroidered with white ia so exceedingly dainty and cool in ef fect that it makes an altogether desir able frock for warm weather wear. This ont is made in simple shirt waist style and js charmingly girlish as well as practical and useful while the hand embroidery gives a touch of elegance that nothing else quite affords. The model is an available one, however, and ■ can be made from gingham or from ■ chambray, or from one of the still sim pler wash fabrics if just a plain morn ing dress is wanted, or it can be made from white linen or blue or from rose ■ color or brown. And, if hand embroid ery is more work than it seems advisa ble to undertake, some little applied trimming can be make to take its place or the band at the front and the cuffs can be cut from allover embroidery. The blouse is just a simple one, made nove? by the wide box plain beneath which the closing is effected, while the sleeves can be finished either with rollover or plain cuffs. The skirt is straight and laid in plaits; in addition to its other advantages it launders successfully and is well adapted to bordered materials. For a girl of sixteen years of age will be required, for the blouse 3V> yards of material 24, 3 yards 32 cr 2 yards 44 inches wide with 2% yards of ribbon; for tbe skirt 6 yards 24. 5% yards 32 or 4% yards 44 inches wide. The Clever Woman. A clever woman, as a wife. Is a wom an who is skilled in the conduct of life, in the control of the household, and, above all, in the management of her husband, says William T. Stead in the Delineator. A woman who could neither read nor write would be a bad wife for any ordinary man in a civ ilized community; but such an illiter ate woman, if she were clever in all the arts of domestic economy, in the rearing of children, and in being at once the inspiration and comfort of her husband, would be clever enough for the cleverest man in existence, and in finitely preferable to the cleverest wom an in book-learning that has ever been turned out by university. Apple Chutney. Chop and mix together twelve i>eeled apples, two green peppers, one cup of seeded raisins and one large onion. Into this mixture stir a pint of vinegar, the juice of three lemons, tv o cups of brown sugar, one tablespoonful of salt and one tablespoonful of ginger. Scald all together, pack into jars and seal. Women ami Exercise. Women, there is no doubt, run easi ly into excess as far as exercise is con cerned. 'luc. will either take no exer cise at all and sit huddled over a book or piece of fancy work, or they will su ’ leniy start to walk, and continue walking until the v almost drop. Exer cise. to do good, should be gentle end regiff"“ Strait and V/inifo, Here is a type of hat sure to appeal to the well groomed woman; it has a certain air of dignity which one cannot fhelp but admire. As will be noticed, the hat of white straw has a high crown and sharply turned brim on one side, and the simple but elegant decoration is a black liberty satin scarf draped around the crown and two beautiful black breasts and wings on left side. To Get Rid of Flea.. To get rid of fleas in the house sprinkle carpets well with salt. Leave the salt undisturbed for an hour, then sweep it up; there will be no more fleas in that carpet. Salt may be sprinkled wherever there are fleas and they will disappear in a short time. DRY LAND CROPS. Alfalfa That Yields Twelve Cuttings a Year. “The demand for better grass comes largely from the arid regions of the West and South," says Prof. C. V. l’iper, chief grass expert of the United States Department of Agriculture, “and our work has been largely ia these sec tions. Secretary Wilson is especially anxious to establish dry land farming on a permanent basis, and for this pur pose crops must be found that have sufficient drouth-resistance to be used profitably in rotation. With this end in view the department is making a thorough exploration of the dry regions of Manchuria and China for new grasses and legumes. Already we have secured many very promising things which we are testing out thoroughly." Prof. Piper says the greatest success attended the efforts of the department with new varieties of alfalfa. Nearly every corner of the was searched during the study of the crop, with the resqlt that several distinct varieties were secured which will thrive where ordinary alfalfa will perish. “We call it hardy alfalfa,” says the professor, “and it is as ctrtain of growth in Minnesota and the Dakotas as ordinary alfalfa in Kansas. The re markable Arabian alfalfa found in the valley of the Euphrates is proving of enormous value iu Arizona and Califor nia, where it has produced 12 cuttjngs in one season, three more than have been produced by the ordinary alfalfa. This result is due to its rapid growth and its ability to grow iu cool weather, beginning earlier in spring and con tinuing later in the fall. “Alfalfa is becoming a very popular crop in the Eastern states. Demon strations of the department have al ready proved that with proper treat ment alfalfa can be grown with great success in nearly every state east of the Mississippi river, and it bids fair to bring about important changes iu the agriculture of these states.” DEATHS FROM RABIES. Three Well-Defined Cases in Nsw York in Two Months. In the “dog days” of July and Au gust this year in New York there were three deaths from rabies. That is looked on as an unusual number. These cases were all well defined rabies. In each instance the brain of the victim was examined by bacteriologists, and the negri body, surest indication of hydrophobia, was found in large num bers. In the last month the number of cases of dog bite treated at the Pas teur Institute fell off a great deal. Be fore the Board of Health instituted its death penalty enforcement of the law demanding a muzzle or leash on all dogs in the streets the institute had hs high as 38 cases under treatment There are now only 15 cases in the in stitute, and these soon will, be dis charged. All the schools in Christiania, Norway, have been closed, owing to a serious out break of smallpox. The Esperautists at their fourth inter national congress at Dresden have decided to publish books in Esperanto for the blind, and to prepare proper exhibits to give information relative to Esperanto. Following the expulsion of the Dutch minister, Jonklaeer de Rous, from Venez uela by President Castro, demonstrations of extreme anger and excitement have been reported in the Dutch South Ameri can colony and throughout the Nether lands. Throughout European Turkey fh( demonstrations of joy over the concession of a constitution and a parliamentary form of government continue at Constan tinople a crowd of more than 200,000 per sons assembled outside the palace of the Sultan to shout their approval of his course. Already preparations are o“ foot for holding the first elections. The new Parliament will assemble in the fall. The surprise in connection with the new Japanese cabinet, headed by Premier Katsura, is the retention of the former minister, Terauchi, whose policy of mili tary expansion appears to suit the elder statesmen. He also takes the foreign portfolio until the return of Baron Ko mura, now ambassador to Britain. Nev ertheless, the announced policy of the new ministry is the recuperation of the coun try rather than aggression in any quar ter. When the House of Lords passed the old-age pension bill on second reading it was thought that would end the matter, but now the unprecedented thing has hap pened of having the bill amended in com mittee. This will bring the Ix>rds into direct opposition to a large majority of the Commons and especially will stir up the ire of the Socialists. The action will be regarded as a breach of the priv ileges of the House, as the bill is con strued as a money bill. During a sympathetic manifestation of building trades employes of Paris in fa vor of the striking sandpit men at Val leneuve and Draveil, two nearby suburbs, i clash with the troops occurred, in which many of the strikers were killed and oth ers wounded. After more than three years of legal procedure the civil court of irst instance of Caracas has delivered judgment in the sensational case of the French Cable Com pany. The company has been found guil ty of complicity in the Matos revolution of 1003, and fined $3,000,000. Other damages also are to be assessed against it. Gov. General Smith has made a per sonal inspection of the cholera infected districts of the Island of Luzon, and he reports that the number of cases is rap idly decreasing. The threatened break in the friendly relations long existing between Holland j and Venezuela will add one more nation ; to the long list of those which either have no intercourse with Venezuela or have serious questions pending. These are France, Columbia, United States, Eng land and perhaps Italy. The path of the diplomat in Caracas is thorny and only too many have met tneir fate at Castro’* hands. Instead of Holland’s sending an ulti matum to Venezuela demanding an apol ogy for tbe expulsion of the Dutch min ister at Caracas, it now appears that President Castro had ample cause for giving the Dutchman his passports. The dismissal of De Re ass was the result of a letter which he made public, telling of the almost dictatorial rule of Castro, and of its ruinous effects upon the country. A high explosive of a power beyond anything hitherto used in the German army, was tested near Munich in the presence of the artillery proving commis sion from Berlin, with what was described as oensatiocal results. Lone Widow—Poor, dear man! Ho lived only three months after our mar riage. Old Jenkins—Ahem! As long as that, mum? —Judge. The Husband (durng the quarrel)- You’re always making bargains. Was there ever a time when you didn’t? Th' Wife—Yes. sir; on my wedding day. She—Why are artists always so care ful to sign their paintings? He—To Indicate which is the top and which is the bottom of the picture.—The Sphinx. “I suppose you know why you are here?” asked the Judge severely. “Yes, sir,” answered the prisoner. “I wuz drug here.”—Birmingham Age-llerald. “Is this section prosperous?” “You bet it is," answered the Kansas farmer. “I kin spread a net auy time and snake a grand piano out of a cyclone.”—Pitts burg Post. "Poor Tom, it cost him a terrible iiot to glee up his sweetheart.” “Then why did he?” “Because It would have cost him a great deal more if he hadu’t.”— The Tatler. Lecturing Philanthropist (home from China) —You know, my dear people, the prisons there are not the sort of places to which you and I are accus tomed.—Puck. ’ • Railway Conductor—ls there room In there for this man? Young Men in Compartment— Impossible. Just about room enough for the two ladies.—File geude Blaetter. “Do you consider your nerve Is suffi ciently steady to tit you for an airship navigator?” “Well, I’ve been out iu a canoe with a nervous fat girl.”—Cleve land Plain Dealer. “Every man is the architect of his own fortune,” quoted the Wise Guy. “Yes, but he wants to keep solid with the building insjiectors,” added tbo Simple Mug.—Philadelphia Record. Sapleigh— A bwick fell from a build ing two yeahs ago and knocked mo senseless. Miss Cnustique—lndeed! And does your physician think you will ever get over it?—Chicago Daily News. Her Husband—lf u man steals, no matter what it is, ho will live to regret it. His Wife—During our courtship you used to steal kisses from me. Her Husband—Well, you heard what I said. Wife—What luck? Husband —None whatever. Wife—Were there no ser vants at the Intelligence ornee? Hus band—Yes, lots of them, but they bad all worked for us before.—Saturday Sunset. “Have you ever been cross-examined before?” inquired u barrister of a wit ness who was occupying his attention. “Have 11” exclaimed the man. "Didn't I Just tell you I am married?”—Stray Stories. Magistrate (sternly)—Didn’t I tell you the last time you were here I nev er wanted you to come before me again? Prisoner—Yes, sir; but I couldn't make the police believe It.— Tit-Bits. Hotel Proprietor—Sir, you cannot leave this hotel until you pay your bill. Mr. O. A. Lott —Ah, at last I have found a man generous enough to grant me the one thing I have always desired—a per manent home. “Should a man go to college after fifty?” "Well, he might pass muster at tennis,” answered the exjiert. "But a man can’t exi>ect to do much In base ball or football at that age.”—Louis ville Courier-Journul. "I fell out of the window of my flat yesterday.” “And you are ou the fourth floor. That was terrible." "Yes; I don’t know how to face the Janitor. I’m sure I’ve violated some clause in my lease.”—Washington Herald. “Your husband says be works like a flog,” sahl one woman. “Yes, It’s very similar,” answered the other. “He comes In with muddy feet, makes him self comfortable by the fire, and waits to be fed.”—Washington Star. “I always hate to pass an ice cream saloon when I’m walking with my girl.” "I’ve never happened to pass one when I was out with my girl.” “That’s strange. llow do you manage It?” “I flon’t manage it; she does. She always insists on going in.” The little daughter of a homeopathic physician received a ring with a pearl In It ou the Christmas tree. Two days later she poked her head tearfully in at the door of her father’s office. “Papa.” she sobbed, “papa, I’ve lost tbe little pill out of my ring.” “I guess pa must have passed v lot of time at the dentist’s when he was In New York,” said Johnny Green. “Why do you think so?” queried bis ma. "’Cause I heard him tell a man to-day that It cost him nearly *3OO to get his eye-tooth cut,” replied Johnny. —Chicago News. Sb Hated Garrick. Mrs. Clive was eminent as an ictfess on the London stage before jarrlok appeared, and as his blaze of •xcellence threw all others into com parative Insignificance she never for fave him and took every opportunity it venting her spleen. She was coarse, rude and violent in her temper and ipared nobody. One night as Garrick was perform ing "King Lear” she stood la-hind the jeenes to observe him and, in spite of tbe roughness of her nature, was so ieeply affected that she sobbed one minute and abused him the next, and it length, overcome by his pathetic :ouches, she hurried from the place with the following extraordinary trib ute to the universality of his powers: ’Hang him! I believe he could act a gridiron.”—T. P.’s Weekly. Vas'.rlr* of tb I’lunib Line. One of the curious things that men of science have discovered in their In numerable efforts to measure and rnap the earth with the least possible error a the fact that there are places where tbe direction of a plumb line is not vertical. Irregularities of density In the crust of the globe may prfxluce this phenomenon. A remarkable Instance has been found In the island of Porto Rico where tbe deviation from the vertical is so great that in mapping tbe Island the north ern and southern coast lines, as shown on the older maps, had each to be mov ed Inward halt a mile. — New York Tribune. Exactly So. "Pa,” said little Willie, who had been reading a cigar store advertisement, “what'a Imported and domestic?” “A hired girl.” replied pa. promptly. —Philadelphia Press. Tbe more worthies* (he man, the more di ’'fruit It is to satisfy biin.