OCR Interpretation


The Lamar register. [volume] (Lamar, Colo.) 1889-1952, February 12, 1908, Image 3

Image and text provided by History Colorado

Persistent link: https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn86063147/1908-02-12/ed-1/seq-3/

What is OCR?


Thumbnail for

LANGFORD
OF THE
THREE BARS
BY KATE AND VIRGIL D. BOYLES
COPY/)/CMr BY A CM'CLUPG UCO. /907
SYNOPSIS.
Georße Wllllston. a poor ranchman,
high minded and cultured, searches for
cuttlo missing from his ranch- the “Lazy
B." On a wooded spot In the river s bed
that would have been an island had the
Missouri been at high water, he discovers
a band of horse thieves engaged In work
ing over brands on cattle. He creeps
near enough to note the changing of the
"Three Burs” brand on one steer to the
"J. R.“ brand. Paul Langford, the rich
owner of the “Three Bars" ranch, is sent
for by Wllllston and Is Informed of the
operations of the gung of cattle thieves.—
a hand of outlaws headed by Jesse Black,
who long have defied the law and author
ities of Kemah county. South Dakota,
with fmpunlty. but who. heretofore, had
not dared to molest any of the property
of the great “Three Bars" ranch. Wlllls
ton shows his reluctaney In opposing a
band so powerful In politics and so dread
ed by all tin* community. Langford
pledges Wllllston his friendship If he
will assist in bringing "Jesse Black and
his gang to Justice. Langford is struck
with the beauty of Mary, commonly
known as "Wllllston** little girl.” 1-oulse
Dale, an expert court stenographer, who
had followed her uncle. Judge Hammond
Dale, from the east to the "Dakotans,
and who Is living with him at W Ind City,
Is requested by the county attorney.
Richard Gordon, to come to Kemah and
take testimony In the preliminary hear
ing of Jesse Black. She accepts the Invi
tation and makes her first trip into the
wild Indian country. Arriving at yelpen
across the river from Kemah. she Is met
by Jim Munson, a hot headed cowboy or
the ‘•Three Bars” ranch.
CHAPTER IV.
"Maggot.”
An hour prior to this little episode
Jim Munson had sauntered up to
the ticket window only to And that the
train 'from the east was 40 minutes
late. He turned away with a little
shrug of relief. It was a foreign role
he was playing —this assumption of
the duties of a knight in dancing at
tendance on strange ladies. Secretly,
he chafed under it; outwardly, he was
magnificently indifferent. He had a
reputation to sustain, a reputation of
having yet to meet that which would
lower his proud boast that he was
afraid of nothing under the sun. neith
er man nor devil. But he doubted his
ability so to direct the point of view
of the Boss or the Scribe or the rest
bf the boys of the Three Bars ranch,
who were on a still hunt for his spot
of vulnerability.
The waiting room was hot—unbear
ably so to a man who practically lived
in the open. He strolled outside and
down the tracks. He found hlnißelf
wishing the train had been on time.
Had It been so. It —the Impending
meeting—would now have been a
thing of the forgotten past. He must
needs fortify himself all over again.
But sauntering down the track toward
the stockyards he filled his cob pipe,
lighted it, and was comforted. He
had a 45-mlnute reprieve.
The boys had tried most valiantly
to persuade him to "fix up” for this
event. He had scorned them indig
nantly. If he was good enough as
he was —black woolen shirt, red neck
erchief and all—for men. just so was
ho good enough for any female that
ever lived. So he assumed a little
swagger as he stepped over the ties,
and tried to make himself believe that
he was glad he had not allowed him
self to be corrupted by proffers of
blue shirts and white neckerchiefs.
He was approaching the stockyards.
There was movement there. Sounds
of commands, blows, profane epithets,
and worried bawlings changed the
placid evening calm into noisy strife.
It is always a place interesting to
cowmen. Jim relegated thoughts of
the coming meeting to the back
ground while he leaned on the fence,
and. with idle absorption, watched the
loading of cattle into a stock car. A
switch engine, steaming and splutter
ing. stood ready to make way for an
other car as soon as the present one
should be laden. He was not the only
spectator. Others were before him.
Two men strolled up to the side op
posite as he settled down to musing
interest.
“Gee!” he swore gently under his
breath, ”ef that ain’t BUI Brown! Yep.
It is. for a fac’. Wonder what he’s
a shlppln’ now for!” He scrambled
lightly over the high fence of the pen.
’’Hullo, there. Bill Brown!” he yell
ed, genially, making his way as one
accustomed through the bunch of re
luctant, excited cattle.
; “Hullo yourself, Jim! What you
doin’ in town?” responded the man ad
dressed, pausing in his labor to wipe
the streaming moisture from his face.
He fanned himself vigorously with his
drooping hat while he talked.
“Gel huntin',” answered Jim, sober
ly and despondently.
’’Hell!” Brown surveyed him with
astonished but sympathetic approba
tion. "Hell!” he repeated. “You
don’t mean it. do you. Jim. honest?
Come, now, honest? So you’ve come
to it, at last, have you? Well, well!
What’s cornin’ over the Three Bars?
What’ll the boys say?”
He came nearer and lowered his
voice ti a confidential tone. ‘‘Say,
Jim, how did it come about? And
who’s the lady? Lord. Jim, you of all
people!” He laughed uproariously.
“Aw, come off!” growled Jim. in
petulant scorn. “You make me tired!
You’re plumb luney, that’s what you
are. I’m after the new gal reporter.
She's due on that low-down, ornery
train. Wish—it—was in kingdom
come. Yep, I do, for a fac’.”
"Oh, well, - never mind! I didn’t
mean anything.” laughed Brown, good
naturedly. “But it does beat the
band. Jim. now doesn't it. how you
people scare at petticoats. They
ain't pizen—honest.”
Jim looked on Idly. Occasionally
he condescended to head a rebellious
steer shutewards. Out beyond it was
still and sweet and peaceful, and the
late afternoon had put on that thin
veil of coolness which is a God-given
refreshment after the heat of the
day. But here in the pen all was con
tusion. The raucous cattle-calls of
the cowboys smote the evening air
startlingly
“Here, Bill Brown!” he exclaimed
suddenly, “where did you run across
that critter?” He slapped the shoul
der of a big, raw-boned, long-eared
steer as he spoke. The animal was
on the point of being driven up the
shute.
“What you want to know for? asked
Brown In surprise.
"Reason ’nough. That critter be
longs to us. that's why: and I want to
know where you got him, that's what
I want to know.”
“You’re crazy. Jim! Why. I bought
that fellow from Jesse Black t' other
day. I’ve got a bill of sale for him.
*’m shlppln’ a couple of cars to Sioux
City and bought him to send along.
That’s on the square."
“I don't doubt it—s’ far as you’re
concerned. Bill Brown," said Jim. “but
that’s our critter Jest the same, and
I’ll jest tote ’lm along ’f you’ve no ob
jections.”
"Well, I guess not!” said Brown, la
conically.
"Look here. Bill Brown.” Jim was
getting hot headedly angry, "didn’t
you know Jesse Black stands trial to
morrow for rustlin’ that there very
critter from the Three Bars ranch?”
“No, I didn't” Brown answered
shortly. “Any case?”
“I guess yes! Wllllston o’ the Lazy
S saw this very critter on that island
where Jesse Black holds out.” He
proceeded to relate minutely the story
to which Wllllston was going to swear
I’ve G<-t a Bill-of-Sale for Him.
on the morrow. “But,” he concluded,
“Jesse's goin’ to fight like hell against
bein’ bound over.”
“Well, well,” said Brown, perplexed
ly. "But the brand. Jim, It’s not
yours or Jesse's either.”
"'Qualnted with any J R ranch in
these parts?” queried Jim, shrewdly.
‘‘l ain’t.”
"Well, neither am I,” confessed
Brown, “but that's not sayin’ there
ain’t one somewhere. Maybe we can
trace it back.”
"Shucks!” exploded Jim.
“Maybe you’re right, Jim, but I
don’t propose to lose the price o’ that
animal less’n I have to. You can't
blame me for that. I paid good money
for it. If it's your’n, why, of course,
it's your’n. But I want to be sure first.
Sure you'd know him, Jim? How
could you be so blamed sure? Your
bosj must range 5,000 head.”
.‘4-HOW Mlm? Know Mag? I’d know
Mag ef my .eyes were full o' soundin'
cataracts.. He's an old and tried friend
o’ mine. The meanest critter the
Lord ever let live and that’s a fac’.
But the boss calls ’im his maggot.
Seems to actually churish a kind o’
’fection for the ornery critter, and
says the luck o’ the Three Bars would
sort o' peak and pine ef he should
ever git rid o’ the pesky brute. Maybe
he's right. Leastwise, the critter’s his,
and when a thing’s yours, why. It’s
yours and that's all there is about it.
By crack, the boss is some mad!
You’d think him and that wall-eyed,
cross-grained son-of-a-gun had been
kind and lovin’ mates these many
years. Well, I ain’t met up with this
orneiy critter for some time. Hullo,
there, Mag! Look kind o’ sneakin’,
now, don't you, wearin’ that outland
ish and unbeknownst J R ?”
Bill Brown thoughtfully surveyed
the steer whose ownership was thus
so unexpectedly disputed.
“You hold him,” insisted Jim. “Ef
he ain't ours, you can send him along
with your next shipment, can’t you?
What you wobblin’ about? Ain't afraid
the boss 'll claim what ain’t his, are
you. BUI Brown?”
“Well, T can’t he’p myself, T guess,”
said Brown, in a tone of voice which (
told plainly of his laudable effort to
keep his annoyance in subjection to
his good fellowship. “You send Lang
ford down here first thing in the morn
ing. If he Bays the crltter’B hls’n that
ends it.”
Now that he had convinced his
quondam acquaintance, the present
shipper, to his entire satisfaction,
Jim glanced at his watch with os
tentatious ease. His time had come.
If all the minutes of all the time to
come should be as short as those 40
had been, how soon he, Jim Munson,
cow puncher, would have ridden them
all Into the past. But his "get away”
must be clean and dignified.
“Likely bunch you have there," he
said, casually, turning away with un
assumed reluctance.
"Fair to middlin’," said Brown with
pride.
“Shlppln’ to Sioux City, you said?”
“Yep.”
“Well, so long.”
“So long. Shlppln’ any these
days, Jim?”
"Nope. Boss never dribbles ’em
out. When he ships he ships. Ain't
none gone over the rails since last
fall.”
He stepped ofT briskly and vaulted
the fence with as lightsome an air as
though he were bent on the one er
rand his heart would choose, and
swung up the track carelessly hum
ming a tune. But he had a vise-like
grip on his cob pipe. His teeth bit
through the frail stem. It split. He
tossed the remains away with a ges
ture of nervous contempt. A whistle
sounded. He quickened his pace. If
he missed her—well, the boss was a
good fellow, took a lot of nonsense
from the boys, but there were things
he would not stand for. Jim did not
need to be told that this would be one
of them.
The platform was crowded. The
yellow sunlight fell slantingly on the
gay groups.
"Aw, Munson, you’re bluffin'. Jested
the mail carrier. “You ain't lookin’
for nobody; you know you ain’t. You
ain't got no folks. Don't believe you
never had none. Never heard of ’em.”
"Lookin’ for my uncle,” explained
Jim, serenely. "Rich old codger from
the state o’ Pennsylvaney some'ers.
Ain't got nobody but me left.”
"Aw, come off! What you givin’ us?”
But Jim only winked and slouched
off, prime for more adventures. H«
was enjoying himself hugely—when
he was not thinking of petticoats.
CHAPTER V.
At the Bon Ami.
Unlike most of those who ride much
her escort was a fast walker. Louise
had trouble In keeping up with him,
though she had always considered her
self a good pedestrian. But Jim Mun
son was laboring under strange em
barrassment. He was red-facedly
conscious of the attention ho was at
tracting striding . up the inclined
street from-The station in the van of
the prettiest and most thoroughbred
girl who had-etruck Velpen this long
time.
Not that he objected to attention
under normal conditions. Not he! He
courted it. His chief aim in life
seemed to be to throw the limelight
of publicity, first, on the Three Bars
ranch as the one and only in the cate
gory of ranches, and to be connected
with It in some way. however slight, j
the unquestioned aim and object of >
existence' of every man, woman and 1
child In the cattle country; secondly, 1
on Paul Langford, the very boss of
bosses, whose master mind was the
prop and stay of the northwest, if not ;
of all Chirstendom; and lastly, upon
himself, the modest, but loyal servi
tor in this Paradise on earth. But girls
were far from normal conditions. I
There were no women at the Three
Bars. There never had been any
woman at the Three Bars within the
memory of man.
Presently he bolted into a building,
which proved to be the Bon Ami, a
restaurant under the direct supervis
ion of the fat, voluble and tragic Mrs.
Higgins, where the men from the
other side of the river had rifbfc of
may and unlimited credit.
I'm UV. POVTIKTIKUi
THE OLDEST CHURCH
HONOR CLAIMED FOR BUILDING
AT SANTA FE, N. M.
Foundation Laid in 1541, But Struc
ture Has Undergone Many Changes
Since Then —Has Historic Old
Bell in Belfry.
Kansas City.—The ancient Santa Fe
church at Santa Fe. N. M., is the old
est house of worship in the United
States, according to the claim of the
Christian Brothers, the Catholic order
which has charge of the edifice.
"Brother David," who looks after the
spiritual welfare of the parish, says
the records of the Christian Brothers
show that the foundation of tiie Santa
Fe church was laid in 1541. Tim next
oldest church building in this country
is the mission of San Xavier, situated
near Tucson. Ariz.. in n Papago In
dian settlement. There is a dispute
as to whether the San Xavier mission
was started in 1547. as is claimed by
some, or at a later time. Coronado,
who is said to have laid the corner
stone of the mission building, was in
Spain in 1547, and it is believed by
those who have investigated the fncts
bearing on the subject that the Santa
Fe church is 10 or 15 years older than
the San Xavier mission building.
The construction of the Santa Fe ed
ifice was slow work. The more expert
artisans had to be brought all the
way from Spain. Indians were forced
to perform much of the hard manual
labor, such as making the adobe bricks
or blocks which were used In the walls
and carrying them to the places where
they were laid. The walls of the
building are from three to five feet
thick. That the sun-dried clay blocks
Ancient Church at Santa Fe, N. M.
were strong and serviceable is at
tested by the fact that they have with
stood the ravages of the elements for
nearly 400 years and still are in ap
! parently as good condition as when
they were first placed in position,
j The church has undergone many im
provements since first it was built. It
now has little resemblance to the
original structure. The adobe outside
walls have been smoothed over with
plaster and wherever evidence of de
cay was shown repairs were made.
The ancient belfry has been remodeled
; to such an extent that its appearance
is entirely changed from that of the
original structure. The old bell, which
is said to have been placed In the
church at the time of its completion,
now occupies a position Just inside the
entrance door of the church. The bell
of itself is a relic that attracts the at
tention of all who visit the historic
place. It was cast August 9. 1356, as
Is shown by the date which is molded
upon it. The tone of the bell is mel
low and musical and can be heard a
great distance.
The distinguished honor of ringing
this ancient bell is accorded to but
few persons by "Brother David.” Presi
dent Roosevelt is one of those who
was invited to sound for the tones of
the bell. This was In 1903, when the
president visited Santa Fe. The chief
executive of the nation pulled the rope
with a vigor that caused the bell to
give forth a tone that was heard far
beyond the limits of the parish. This
bell is said to have done service in
Spain for nearly 200 years before it
was brought to the ancient pueblo of
Santa Fe and Installed In this church.
In the times when the church edifice
was used as a fort to ward off attacks
of the Indians the bell was used to
sound the alarm to the settlers of the
Santa Fe district when the Indians
swooped down upon t lie pueblo.
When the church was built and for a
century or two afterwards the open
ings in its walls, now fitted with win
dows of glass, were covered with
woven Indian blankets when storms
came. Ordlnarly the openings were
left free of obstructions and the pure
air of the mesa swept through the
building. The bare ground served for
a floor until 1710, when a puncheon
floor -was put down. Since that date
the Interior of the church has been
ornamented with a gallery. The walls
of the ediflpe are adorned with a num
ber of paintings, some of which are
the work of old masters and are very
valuable.
Right and Wrong Ways.
| It Is not too much food or too little,
| nor an excess or lack of exercise that
i builds the strong and healthy body, but
! the just amount requisite for a given
j organism. And so, too, for the best
interests of the normal nature is
I neither excess nor deficiency, but the
safe, preserving, middle course. Here
Aristotle thus reasons in his Nich
omachean Ethics: "If you run away
from everything, and are afraid of
everything, and stand your ground
against nothing, you become a cow
ard, whereas, if you fear nothing at
all, but make for every adversary, you
become foolhardy. Similarly he who
takes his fill of every pleasure and
abstains from none becomes intem
perate, whereas he who shuns all be
comes stolid, like the stupid rustic of
the stage. For temperance and cour
age are destroyed by excess or defect,
but preserved by moderation.”
Mild.
“Don’t you think my new suit is a
perfect fit?”
“A fit? Why It's a perfect convul
sion!”—Cleveland Leader.
WETMORE AGAIN A SENATOR.
Rhode Island Deadlock Broken on
Eighty-Fifth Ballot.
Providence, R. I.—George Peabody
Wet more was re-elected to the United
States senate on the first ballot cast
in both branches of the Rhode Island
general assembly the other day, re
ceiving a total of 68 votes. Col. Rob
ert H. I. Goddard of this city, the Dem
ocratic and Lincoln Republican nomi
nee. was given n total of 36 votes,
while Col. Camuel P. Colt of Bristol
received five votes.
The voting was a continuation of the
bulloting which occupied much of the
time of the gcucial assembly at the
last session, wlmii at the time of ad
journment was still lu deadlock. The
first ballot of the session was the
eighty-fifth in the contest.
Senator Wetwore was the Repub- |
llcan candidate for ro election, and as
the Republicans have 72 votes to 3'J !
of the Dcraocratis and Lincoln party,
a united vote, it was believed before
the balloting began that be would be
returned to Washington over Goddnrd.
Both candidates were in the contest at j
the last session, but Col. Samuel Pom- j
eroy Colt polled a majority of the Re
publican votes.
Senator Wetmore lives in Newport. .
He was born In Loudon In IS 16 during ;
the visit of his pslrenlfl abroad. Ho 1
was graduated from Yale in 1867, was i
governor of Rhode Island from 188 f»
to 1887 and was elected to the United
States senate by unanimous vote In
1894. He was re-elected in 1901. Ho
Is a millionaire and a social leader.
A REMARKABLE CHIMPANZEE.
Takes Daily Bath and Eats Breakfast
with Mistress.
London. —England is much Interest
ed In a young chimpanzee belonging
to Miss A. P. Hall, which Is being
brought up with about as much care
as would be bestowed on her if she
was a human being.
Every morning, Miss Daisy, for that
is the ehiinpanzee’s name, has her
bath. She is then dressed and con
ducted to the breakfast room of her
yX5S A4J3T-
mistress' house, where she sits at the
table with the family and feeds herself
with a spoon.
For the balance of the day, she Is
subjected to humanizing and educa
tional Influences to which her mistress
says she responds In a most satisfact
ory manner, so that she grows In
knowledge and good breeding very rap
idly.
Miss Hall has high aspirations for
her little chimpanzee. She confident
ly expects to teach her to do a great
many things no other chimpanzee ever
has done. She declines to state the
limit of the possibilities she conceives
of when she thinks of Miss Daisy's fu
ture. It may be she hopes to send her
to Girton college, where England's
most aristocratic young women get
their higher education.
Benny on the Turtle.
The turtle is one of the ugliest of
the wonderful works of creation. It
has a thick, hard shell on Its out
sides, but is good for soup, which costs
you 30 cents and has pieces of hard
boiled egg In It. A turtle looks like a
wooden bowl of various sizes, turned
upside down, and has legs. The only
noise It makes Is when It falls off a
log Into the Calumet river near Blue
Island or elsewhere. It is wrong to
shoot turtles. The reason why it is
wrong to shoot turtles Is because they
don't know any better. If you catch
a small turtle and get tired of It you
can put it In a pasteboard box and
send it In the mail to some friend for
four cents. An adult turtle sometimes
lives to an advanred age. Its shell
when polished and made into combs
looks so like celluloid that you can't
tell the difference. Thus we see that
everything is useful, and that we
ought to be good and kind to all crea
tures, whether we love them or not.
In Its wild state tho turtle is usually
covered with mud and looks nasty.—
Benny, In Chicago Tribune. *
A Theatrical Mix-Up.
“So you support yourself by playing
games of chance?”
“No, sir; I gambol for a living.”
“What's the difference in your
avowal?”
"Wbat's the difference—a rowel, I
play a lamb in the new pastoral bur
lesque.”—Baltimore American.
FASHIONS FOR
THE FAIR
IN SLUMBER ROBES
ONE OF THE FINEST OF THE
NIGHTGOWN MODEL8.
Exquisite French Lingerie Employed
In Empire Piece with Novel
Sleeve* — Touche* That Give
Quaint and Picturesque Air.
At this season of the year women's
minds dwell on dainty lingerie and
the splendid offerings that are to be
found in the shops. It Is the time
when slightly worn or passe ward
robes are replenished for the spring.
Among the many nightgov a models
A New Nightgown.
found In the exquisite French lingerie
sent over here is an empire piece pro
vided with novel sleeves. The gar
ment Is a mass of Valenciennes entre
HOW TO BONE A COLLAR.
Framework of Whalebone Will Give
Best Results.
Bones play an Important part In
dress-making nowadays, and especial
ly in waists, girdles and collars. As
the collars must be high now. It Is
necessary to bone them to make them
stand up. Tho collars of tho lingerie
waists and of all dressy wulsts are
higher Just behind the ear, where they
slope upward Blightly. Featherbone
is largely used, and It Is easy to han
dle, as it requires no covering except
at the ends. Stitches may bo taken
through It at any point, and last but
not least, it Is Inexpensive.
The best and cleverest way to bone
a collar is to cut the whalebone Into
the proper lengths for collar supports.
Five pieces of bone are necessary for
the average collar, two for under the
chin, which should be about two or
2V4 Inches npart at the base of the
collar and slant until they are an Inch
farther apart at the top of the collar.
These two bones are about half an
Inch shorter than the two which
should be put underneath and a little
behind the ear.
The collar must be tied on to deter
mine the proper position for these.
; The fifth bone Is the same height as
. the two front bones, and Is to be put
I in the middle of the back of the collar.
I These bones are not to bo sewed <ll
- rectly to the collar, but are to be
| sewed to a little framework collar
made of tapes. A piece of tape which
! just fits comfortably but snugly around
| the base of tho neck forms the bot
tom of the framework, and for the top
i a piece of tape which is a trifle lar
| ger than is necessary for comfort
lls chosen. These pieces of tape are
joined together by six pieces of tape.
• Two in the front In exactly the same
position which the featherbone Is to
occupy, and two under tho ears and
two at each end. These six pieces
1 should be made of two pieces of tape
to form pockets, and Into these pock
ets the featherbone is slipped.
One side of the back requires no
featherbone, though this may be used
If desired, for It will remain upright
when fastened to the other side of the
back, which contains featherbone.
Hooks are sewed to one side of the
back and eyes to the other, and the
1 little framework Is ready to put In the
! collar of a dress at a moment's notice.
' Bones treated In this way will never
stick Into the neck or scratch it, and
will never bend and twist out of shape.
Lemon Is also an excellent shampoo
for white hair, giving It a lovely
silvery luster and keeping It soft and
1 pliable.
FOR THE STOUT WOMAN.
Nine or Twelve-Gored Model the Best
for the Skirt.
It seems that persons who design
fashions consider none except those
who are slender and young, with sug
gestions few and far between for the
elderly woman and scarcely any for
the stout woman. A skirt which Is
being made for a stout woman should
be a nine or twelve gored model. A
person of extreme stoutness should
choose a pattern with even more
gores, In order to make the skirt fit
with perfect flatness about the hips.
As it is Impossible for a stout
woman to look well In tho hipless
fashions, she may as well accept her
fate and dress as becomingly as she
can. A skirt which springs out Into
fullness below the hip line Is certain
ly more becoming than one which fits
snugly below the hips. The skirt Is
the only garment where lines of suf
ficient length can be given to obtain
graceful proportions.
Many women make the great mis
take of sacrificing the "length of line”
deux and embroidery applique from
the high waist belt to tho neck. There
Is no trimming below the ribbon run
beading which forms tho belt, only
full widths of the sheerest nainsook.
The valenclonnes strips are applied
In an attractive lattice pattern, with
tiny diamond shaped pieces of the
nainsook separating the lace bands.
The neck of the gown is cut In a
Dutch square, with a band of lace out
lining It; a tiny beading heads this,
while Insldo is a narrow frill of lace
to finish tho neck. The beading Is
run with ribbon, which ties In front.
Empire nlghtgow'ns Invariably fasten
In front unless the neck Is cut out
enough to allow It to slip over tho
head.
At each side of the front Is ap
pllqued u flower medallion done In
fine needlework, and on each shoulder
is another medallion a trifle smaller.
This forms a top for the new night
gown sleeve, which Is shorter than
those that havo been worn and Is
shaped more like a circular cap than a
seml-fitted sleeve. A frill of laco fin
ishes the edge of tho sleeves, and
above this, spaced an Inch or more
apart, are two rows of the lace Inser
tion. Extending from the uppor hori
zontal row are three vertical strips,
which connect the shoulder medallion
with tho cross bands of trimming. A
quaint and picturesque air Is Imparted
to this dainty bit of lingerie by tho
beading bolt, which comes, In true em
pire fashion. Just under the bust. It
fastens in front with a fancy ribbon
bow.
Whether nlghtgow’ns are gathered
Into a belt after this fashion or not
they are provided with full short
sleeves and they have tho trimming
extending quito low. The entire top
of the gown, both front and back, may
be decorated with medallions and lace,
and iusteud of having the necessary
fullness gathered on below tho belt It
will be arranged by monns of clusters
of fine vertical tucks, which nro laid
between tho medallions and do not In
terfere with tho design carried out
in the laco and embroidery.
FOR RINGS AND PINS.
Pretty Ornament Easily Fashioned,
and at Small Cost.
A very pretty little ornament for the
dressing table and one, moreover,
which need cost next to nothing, may
bo seen In our sketch. It Is a com
bined ring-stand and pincushion,
made out of one of thoßO little brown
cream Jugs which are always so deco
rative and which are practically of no
use when once they are empty. A
velvet or silk pln-cushlon can easily
be fitted Into tho top of tho Jug. and
ribbon bow’s In some bright color
should be tied round Its neck. A
little tree twig should be fastened Into
tho center of the cushion and will
serve as a ring stand. This twig might
bo covered with gold paint, or be
painted some color to harmonize with
the shade chosen for the cushion and
the ribbon bows. It should be fixed
by a few drops of mucilage on the end
that penetrates the cushion.
To Make Arms Plump.
There are many good roads which
lead to making thin arms plump, and
probably one of the most commonly
trod of these Is the dally massaging
of the arms with olive oil. Massage
the arms gently and work tho sweet
olive oil thoroughly Into them. The
arms must he exercised also. Seat
yourself at a table and lay the fore
arms on It with the palms of the
hands touching tho table. Without lift
ing the palms from tho table, briskly
raise and spread all the fingers.
Book Lover’s Reward.
He who loves to read and knows
how to reflect has laid by a perpetual
feast for old age.—Carlyle.
for the whim of trimming the skirt in
the passing fancy. Trimming on a
skirt always cuts a woman into halves
or thirds and emphasizes her stout
ness and chunkiness. The only trim
ming which a stout woman should
have on her skirt, if she must have it.
Is a fold or band of the material. This
is the most popular method of trim
ming the skirt at the present day.
The fold must come directly at tho
bottom of the skirt and by no means
six Inches above the bottom of tho
skirt.
Milk and Salt for Skin.
A treatment which Is simple and
beneficial to the good appearance of
the skin is the milk and salt treat
ment. Wash the face at night Just
before going to bed with hot water
and salt, using the salt as you would
soap. Do not use tho water so hot
as to make the face tender or dry.
Then rinse In cold waetr. Apply a so
lution made of one teaspoonful of salt
to two tablcspoonfuls of milk as a
cold cream or skin food. After a few
applications the face will be smooth a*
ivory and will be a delicate pink.

xml | txt