OCR Interpretation


The Jersey City news. (Jersey City [N.J.]) 1889-1906, August 24, 1901, LAST EDITION, Image 3

Image and text provided by Rutgers University Libraries

Persistent link: https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn87068097/1901-08-24/ed-1/seq-3/

What is OCR?


Thumbnail for

f ***a-M»*®*9 I— 1 «
I Correct |
1 Thing In i
| Mourning |
When we see a female form heavily
Swathed in erape, we are apt to think
that fashion in mourning garments does
not change. Not so; there is quite as
much style in a mourning outfit as in
other things. Of course, details do not
show at the first glance, as all is black,
end few notice them. There are houses
where nothing but mourning goods are
sold. Time was, aad not so very long
ago, when a dressmaker was rushed to
death to get the family mourning ready
for the funeral. Now everything can be
bought all ready to put oa or carry down
to the handkerchiefs and parasols.
Late designs in handsome mourning
euttiU have capes instead of shawls,
EHDOBA ANI> ENGLISH CRAPB SHIT.
Jackets or coats. Eudora is still the very
best thing sold for, the dress and cape.
Nothing has ever approached it for beau
ty or durability, nor has anything been
found which makes so good a foundation
for crape band and trimming. Eudora is
-silk warped and what is called “dead
fine.” There is a frosty bloom over it
impossible to describe. No other weave
is accepted as the proper one for first and
deepest mourning. A beautiful design
for any mourning save that of a widow
is shown. There are slight shades of
difference in deep mourning, and they
consist mostly in the depth of the crape
nround the bottom of the skirt and on the
cape. Black worn by a woman who has
lost her child is not as deep as that don
ned by a widow. A handsome gown for
a widow has the whole suit made of eu
dora. Over tiiis the crape is put. Some
times almost the whole of the skirt is
hidden under the crape, but the best
method is to have it come but half way
®Pl As time goes by the crape is cut
away and made narrower.
A handsome mourning gown Is made
«f eudora cloth and has a 12 inch band
of crape. Above that are throe milliners’
3-ells of crape. The waist is made in
blouse shape, with rolls of crape down
"the fraiat to a point. There are deep
cuffs of the crape, and the collar is made
In the same way. The cape is in the
mew shape, fitted over the shoulders and
flaring a trifle at the bottom. All around
is a deep fold of crape headed by sev
eral rolls like those on the skirt. At the
neck is a full rufSe of black chiffon. The
close bonnet is coronet shape, and a lit
tle trimming in the form of bows and
loops is put on the top. The veil is not
over a yard long. This style of mourn
ing is suitable,for sisters, daughters and
yofing mothers. It might also do for a
young widow, but in that case the bon
net should have a Httle white racking of
crape. For deep mourning bands no
crape bnt the English is suitable. It is
costly, but durable. The French and
Italian crapes should not bp used for
they are thin and sleazy and intended
only for light purposes. The English
crape is now made waterproof, and the
greatest difficulty in the use of crape is
overcome. This is a great benefit. To
refinish a wet veil used to cast a dollar.
A mourning suit for a yonng lady is of
melrose. At the bottom is a deep crape
accessories fob mourning outfits.
fcand, and under the edge are several nar
row ruffles -of pinked taffeta. The waist
is made of shirred crape front and back.
Over this is a shaped bolero of mel
rose lapped to th* loft side and held by a
large button. Around the bottom of the
waist Is a shirred wide girdle of crape.
The sleeves are slightly bell shaped and
hare nndersleeves of crape. The hat
Is of the same material, shirred, with a
clever crape imitation of feathers at the
side.
Veils for those in first mourning are
long and deeply hemmed. They are so
heavy that a woman may wear a short
one for ordinary occasions. The crape
veil hangs down the back, and there is a
mask veil made of black net. This is
bordered with a band of crape from one
to two inches wide. Some have two or
three narrow bands or milliners’ folds in
addition to the binding band. Toque*
and Marie Stuarts are still about the only
shapes offered, with some slight varia
tions. One toque has several narrow
fo.ds of crape and an imif&tion breast
feather made of dull black paillettes.
This has a. light veil of the thinnest
variety of crape. Few wear nun’s veil
ing veils, as that material has now
entered into Its third season. One Marie
gtuart bonnet has above the point..# bow ,
made of crape and embroidered with .ail k
and chenille. 5
Handkerchiefs are bordered with one
black stripe half an inch wide and are
hemstitched with black-- sittt. Some, ‘how
ever have the blaek band Jnsido the hem.
Others have the edge only black. That
is a matter of taste. Stock collars made
of folded crape, with bows or bow and
jabot combined, are seen. Gloves^ are
glazed kid for best and suede black for
ordinary use. All pins and chains should
be of dull jet. The blight jet is now con
sidered as being trimming to so many
things that it does not belong to mourn
ing. Long beads in dull jet strung along
a border like fringe are called bugle
fringe. This will be used to border somo
mourning garments. Fw cold weather,
wraps bordered with black astrakhan
! with crape above the edge of the fur will
be worn. Astrakhan and seal will be the
fashionable furs for mourning.
There are several other weaves of black
dress goods besides eudora. Broadcloth
can be adapted to this by having
crape upon it. Very large buttona and
olives covered with crape are to be very
fashionable for such purposes. Serge
makes a good everyday gown. There is
a cloth woven so that it looks exactly
like the best Oourtauld crape. This is
strong and handsome, and for ordinary j
mourning nothing gives better satisfac- j
tion. It is made of wool and mohair.
Melrose, silk warp henrietta, armure, j
whipcord, drap d’alma and drap d’ete are
all good for mourning gowns. Mohairs
in several weaves are also seen. Cash- j
meres and camel’s hairs and some of the !
waterproofed cheviots will be found val- j
uable for home wear. Blaek china silk
is another fabric employed for mourning.
This is suitable for children and young
girls for summer and home. Almost any
thing that has a dead black surface can
be worn for mourning provided it has a
touch of crape trimming somewhere about j
it.
Some ladies affect mull collars and deep j
hemstitched cuffs of the same. These j
take away something of the gloominess !
of an all black costume and therefore !
they should be encouraged. Parasols are j
of armure or india silk for the dull sur- |
face. They are tied with grosgratu rib- !
bon in a short bow at the handle. In i
fact, all accessories of whatever sort
should be of dull black.
A number of new worsted and silk j
braids are made expressly for mourning, j
Many of them have pretty arrangements
of small silk buttons, which are so fixed
to the braid as to form trimming. The
braid is made up into rosettes and other
set pieces, and wherever the braid cross
es a button is set. It is a beftutiful trim
ming, but too dressy for deep first mourn
ing.
The tubular braid is much used, while
hercules and titan are often seen. In
deed, braid is to be one of the principal
trimmings, and it is surprising to what
perfection it is brought. All the well
known old standard varieties, like sou
tache and those mentioned above, are
wrought into marvelous designs. With
them are put chenille, silk and chiffon be
SUIT OP. MELROSE A3CD CRAPE.
Bides taffeta Bilk. The chiffon and silk
are UBed to mark the design, and the
braids are sewed around and made into
rich and beautiful things. Scrolls, tur
rets, diamonds and geometrical shapes
are produced. Some hare the braid set
around velvet cut out work and fastened
flown with metal thread. The Persian
designs are many and rich, and the col
ored braida are marked by extreme fine
ness and firmness. Some of t£e open
work varieties have dainty little cretonne
flowers worked in, and the braid is all
aronnd. ifiny roses are the oftenest seen.
Some of the braids are three inches wide,
and others are scarcely a sixteenth of an
inch. Human ingenuity has been taxed
to bring the braids to perfection. Some
of them are like silk gimp, and others are
like lace galloons. Mats Leroy.
Arctic Seals In Asiatic Lakes.
Lake Baikal is a remarkable body of
Water lying in a longitudinal trough on
the edge of the central Asiatic plateau,
whose surface is 1,600 feet above the sea,
with which it is connected by the Yenisei
riyer after flowing across the northern
plains of Siberia for a distance of about
2.000 miles. A most curious fact, long
known to scientific men, is that this lake
is occupied by a species of seal almost
identical with those found in the Arctic
ocean. The same species with slight
variations are also found in the Caspian
sea, but not anywhere else along the
3.000 or 4,000 miles which separate these
bodies of water.
The most probable explanation of this
fact, and the one usually accepted by
scientific men. is that these species of
seals were thus widely distributed during
a continental subsidence in which the
waters of the Arctic ocean covered all
of northwestern Siberia and extended up
to the base of'the great Asiatic plateau
which we followed for such a long dis
tance on elevated shore lines of Turkes
tan. When this depressed area emerged
from the sea, it left the seal isolated in
the two great bodies of water which still
remain on its former margin. So lately
has this taken place that there has not
been time for any great changes to be
effected in the specific characteristics of
these animals.—McClure’s Magazine.
Warm Summon and Cold Winters
There Is a widespread belief, even
among people that make some claim to
scientific observation of the weather, that
an exceptionally hot summer is generally
followed by an exceptionally cold winter.
That this is merely a popular fallacy is
shown by Dr. Fassig in the “Weather
Review,” who gives the result of an in
vestigation of the records from 1817 to
the present time. He says that’neither
exceptionally warm summers nor excep
tionally cold summers have any influence
on the weather of the winters that follow
them; that, in fact, there is no regular
alternation, or period, in atmospheric
temperatures. Each season, therefore, it
may be said, makes its own weather, and,
because the present summer has been ex
tremely h-ot, there is not the slightest
scientific reason for believing that the
coming winter will be unusually cold.
An Old Pastor.
Bey. James Poindexter, Columbus, O.
No man in the capital city of the State
of Ohio is better known than the Rev.
James Poindexter. For many years he
has been tho successful pastor of the
Second Baptist Chnrch of that city.
Every day his venerable figure and
kindly face may be seen on the streets
of the city Where he has labored for so
many years. What a history of benev
olence and self-sacrifice might be writ
ten by simply giving the details of the
every-day life of this faithful pastor and
eloquent preacher.
But old ago comes to the best of men.
The rheumatics peculiar to advanced
age had already'began its insidious rav
ages when it became necessary to find a
remedy, if possible, that his days of use
fulness might not be shortened.
An efficient nerve tonic that would
stimulate the circulation, improve the
digestion, and increase the tone and
vigor of his whole system, was needed.
The only remedy capable of meeting all
these indications was found to be Pe
rnna. In a recent letter to Dr. Hartman,
he states:
“My attention was called some time
ago to your medicine for rheumatic
troubles by Mr. Cook, an old reliable
druggist of this city, and take pleasure
in saying that I have tried them and
found them good. It is my opinion that
the remedy, Pernna, is Justly entitled to
tho fame which it has throughout the
United States.’1
Address The Pernna Medicine Co,
Columbus, O., for free catarrh book.
HOHEMLOHE’S DIPLOMACY
How He Established Peace Among
Warring Faotions in Paris.
The late Prince Hohenlohe will long be
remembered in Paris ae one of the most
skillful diplomatists whom Germany ever ,
sent to the 'French capital. He served !
there from 1874 to 1885, and one who knew |
him well in those days has written of j
him:—
“When he arrived in Paris it was the j
most dangerous post a German ambassa- .
dor could occupy. Count Arnim’s fall had
been terrible, but his successor, with a
cool audacity which almost amounted to
bravado, retained those around him who
had been notoriously the most active in
struments of that fall. The German em
bassy in Paris might then have been de
scribed as the most formidable-diplomatic
machine devised by the Iron Chancellor.
“Each of the ambassador’s assistants
was a potent force. Marshal MacMa
hon’s government which Count Arnim j
had championed against Thiers regarded |
Prince Hohenlohe as an adversary, as j
an instrument of the vengeance of Prince ;
Bismarck interested in destroying what
he considered as partly Count Arnim’s
work. 'Prince Bismarck was known to
protect the republic—which he deemed
harmless for Germany—and to be ready
to protect it against those who ruled it.
•Prince Hohenlohe was, therefore, looked
upon as a vigilant adversary accredited
to a government which he was commis
sioned to thwart.
“Gradually, however, the -Prince’s pa
tience, his sincere desire to maintain
peace, his delicate precautions to avoid
rousing the Due Deeazes, drew them to
gether, and when the incident of 1875 ar
rived, the prince, without failing in his
duties, proved to the duke that he was ,
working with him. Thus before, as af- j
ter Marshal MadMahon’s fall lie (Prince
Hohenlohe) symbolized peace in Paris to
such a degree that there was alarm when
he took an annual holiday, and he oo
tained the most important concessions by
holding out a prospect of departure.”
Expensive London Fogs.
A London fog, says the London
“Chronicle,” is an expensive visitation.
A day of it, counting the day at eight
hours, is estimated to cost anything from
£50,000 to £100,000 in hard cash. No small
proportion of this goes to the gas and
electric light companies, which hfve to
supply about a third more power than
usual. But there are also the railways.
For signaling is expensive. At Clapham
Junction alone £50 has been spent by a
single railway company during a day’s
fog in extra pay to the plate layers. "When
the red light cannot be seen at a distance
of a hundred yards the plate layers be
come fog signalers, and for this they are
paid a shilling a day in addition to their
regular wages, and 4d. per hour overtime,
provided the overtime does not run into
a second shilling. Fog signals, like a
cuckoo, are more frequently heard than
seen, and, like a number of things, such
as babies, oats and crickets, make an
amount of noise altogether out of' pro
portion to their size. The largest of those
in use is scarcely bigger than a crown
piece, and is a quarter of an inch in
depth. The little tin box contains a tea
spoonful of gunpowder and three percus
sion caps, and is fitted on to the rail by
a red ribbon. It comes from Birmingham
mostly, and costs exactly a penny apiece.
A hundred and fifty thousand or so are
purchased by a big railway company in
a year, and there are not many lefrt over
at the end of it.
Max Muller’s Library.
The libraryof the late Professor Max
Muller has been bought by Baron Iwasaki
for presentation to the University of
Tokyo. The only conditions imposed by
the Baron are (1) that the library be kept
separately under special Care in order to
commemorate the name of the original
owner; (2) that the library be open to any
student engaged in studies similar to
those of Professor Max Muller, and (3)
that the university will carefully avoid
all danger o floss or injury. The Univer
sity of Tokyo is building for the books
a hall which will be called the Max Mul
ler Library. The collection consists of
nearly thirteen, thousand volumes, eighty
one Sanskrit MSS. and many fine fllus
: -•-■=-- ■--- . ••.- — ... «
AAAaaaaaaaaaaaaa - a A AAA A AAA A A A^ AAAAAAAAAAAA a’a AAAAAAAaA AAA A*A A A A A^l A A A A A <l A A AJkA
yyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy▼▼▼▼ yyyyyyyvyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy^» ** F'lTffrw^
In Woman’s World.
It Is n’ot likely that the lover formu
lates the thought to himself in as many
words, but under all his endeavors, his
hopes and, tenderness there lies the not
too selfish thought that the new home is
to b# for him a place of rest, says Har
riet Prescott Spofford In the Philadelphia
"Inquirer.” He looks forward to return
ing there from all the worry and rush
and struggle of business, and all the
bustle and confusion of the outside world
In market or court, to ease and repose
of body and mind, and to hours ■rtrhieh
shall be disturbed by no unpleasant sug
gestion, a quiet he will have earned If he
is the husband he intends to be.
It must come over the man like a dis
illusion when he returns tired and both
ered and longing for the tranquil evening,
to find that his wife seems to have been
lying in wait for him with a load of
grievances and complaints which if he is
sympathetic add fresh vexations to the
sum of his annoyances, and finally make
him wonder why she cannot hold up her
end of the yoke without taxing him, and
if there is no such thing in the world as
a spot free from trouble. He does not
fret his wife with the shortcoming of his
bookkeeper, or his customer, or his office
boy; with the details of his lawsuits and
the stupidity of his witnesses, with the
petty matters of his business. Of course
in a large way, in a way to which she
has a right, he tells her of his affairs,
of their success or otherwise, sf the state
of his finances, and of interesting occur
rences. And in a corresponding way he
would expect to know if the allowance
were sufficient for the housekeeping, if
the new cook were satisfied with her
place, if the plumbing was out of order,
and the main and general facts of the
household life.
But he does not expect or wish to hear
that the cook can’t ’be made to keep her
closets clean, that the maid will nick the
china, that the grocer’s boy stays too
long in the kitchen, that the iceman is
always treated to pie, that it isn’t to be
imagined what becomes of the drippings,
that she suspects the provision dealer
cheats in the weight, that Tommy ought
to be punished, that Bessie has stubbed
her toe, and she herself had a stitch in
hef side in the morning.
It is her business to make the cook
keep her closets clean, to have the maid
taught care in handling the china, to see
that the grocer’s boy acquires the habit
of doing his errand and going quickly, to
find out what becomes of the drippings,
to have the joint weighed and cheating
made impossible, to assert her own au
thority with Tommy and to remember
that the aches and ails which are past
and gone do not signify and had best be
left alone.
There are some husbands who 'take an
Interest in all the trifles; bu\ °re are
more to whom they are inexpressibly
wearisome. It is natural that the wife,
shut in the narrow compass of her home,
desiring to occupy her husband’s atten
tion, should talk to him of the things
that comprise-her world. But it would
be far wiser for her to spend an hour
of every day informing herself from the
newspapers or magazines and reviews of
the current affairs of the larger world,
or in reading some one volume that can
be reported on and discussed. For in
such case she makes herself entertaining
as well as helpful; but in the other case
she is exceedingly likely, after a period
more or less delayed, to see the good man
take his coat and hat and depart for the
club, or some other region where his ears
will not suffer from peevish fretfulness
and' trivial nothings.
Even if it were an assured fact that
man is as selfish and brutal as Kipling
says he is. he is still, on the same evi
dence, companionable. And the wife who,
nevertheless and in spite of such circum
stances, wants his companionship, must
make her own agreeable to him. For the
man does not live, even though he be
near sainthood, who does not prefer a
cheerful atmosphere to a dismal dne. And
even if the wife has been annoyed and
vexed all day. half sick and tired to death,
she will do more in the long run for her
own happiness, by suppressing the recital
of her troubles and delinquencies, and let
ting her husband find it a possibility to
look forward, out of the turmoil of the
day abroad, to the peace of his evening
at home.
m *
In the “Woman’s Home Companion” for
September, Ada C. Sweet has an unusual
ly able and attractive article which every
woman Interested in home work will read
with pleasure.
“I saw an unusually attractive room of
a girl last summer. The rug site had
made herself from strips of blue and
white cotton, knitting them, like yarn,
on large wooden needles. The window
curtains had been a pair of rather coarse
but snow-white linen sheets—old home
spun linen. These cut in two she had
hemstitched all around, to make two cur
tains for each window. Then she had
embroidered them In dull blue and white,
just a sprig here and there inside the
hems. The bedcover was all white. It
had been made from a wide piece of some
thick, cotton niaterlal, and was edged
with an embroidered cambric ruffle. The
covers for bureau and wash-stand were
made in the same way, of the same ma
terial. The little bookcase in this room
had a brilliant curtain which fairly shone
and flashed with color. Its owner had
bought a remnant of satin, and loaded it
with embroidery in most fanciful patterns
and colors. I did not wonder at the pride
with which its young mistress showed
this room.
“When our girls begin to appreciate
woman’s handiwork at its true value they
will see the worthlessness of much of the
grlmcrack furniture which lumbers many
houses. The pine boxes with veneered
fronts which pass for wardrobes and
bureaus; the tawdry, unfinished, assert
ive, weak-kneed tables and chairs, the
‘over-stuffed,’ fat-cushioned sofas with
colorings like unto an Indian’s blanket,
and all the endless bric-a-brac and cheap
Impedimenta of the day, will not bear the
examination of intelligent, Instructed
eyes. The girl who works, under artistic
training, with her own hands at house
hold stuffs will demand tables and chairs
of good material, well planned and well
made, comfortable, and standing square
on their four legs, as respectable tables
and chairs should stand,”
• * *
If you want to be in the swim, so the
person who is never 111 says, you must'
I \
take' the r^st cure; but the rest cure idea
la not a mere fad of the rich and leisure
ly. It hay become a famous treatment
for tbe great American malady—nervous
prostratipn^resulting from making rush
otir w^bbWdrd. ‘ >
The jwdpsfcy ideas in the rest cure are
change of- environment and absolute quiet
that falls vpon the spirit of the afflicted
one like ibalnii
. It is not the rich and idle, says our
’great specialist in this line,, who are the
Vic tips: of*: this malady, though the * un
observant ^are wont to pronouyce it an af
fectation of' the do-nothings.
It Is, says this pre-eminent authority,
the inevitable result of overwork or wor
ry and never the result of being bored by
one’s riches or. too much play.
* Treatment may be given at home for
this trouble quite as effectively in many
case3 as at an expensive sanitarium and
without a trained nurse if an intelligent
pother or daughter takes charge of the
patient.
It is of all things the greatest mistake
to take the attitude that there is nothing
the matter with him, or more frequently
her, so as to reassure her.
It drives suffering persons to melan
cholia to have their complaints rebuffed
as imaginary and add to their weakness
the depressing effect of bitterness of
Spirit at being thought a fraud or make
believe.
Genuine nervous prostration is the most
real and the most difficult of physical and
men,tal troubles to combat, for it is the
; two combined; but, while the patient
j should not be treated as if nothing were
the matter, she should not, of course,
know the full extent of her state of
health, and, while admitting, that she is
very much rim down, cheering hope of
renewed strength, soon to come, should
be ever constantly held out to her.
I The reason that women more iregueni
i !y succumb to this malady than men is
because of the harassing effect of their
multitudinoys cares and petty worries, the
never-ceasing demands of the household
and the exhaustion of too great physical
exertion when the decamping servants
throw the work of the whole machine
upon her.
Put the patient ,in the quietest room in
the house after having first changed its
aspect as far as possible, so that her en
vironment will have an element of new
ness to her.
Borrow from . some near friend quiet,
pastoral pictures that she has never seen
and hang them on the wall; place here
and there a graceful plaster cast and re
move the heterogenous collection of eye
wearying bric-a-brac and thus secure a
tranquilizing effect.
Have three easy chairs, all different of
Construction; a large, restful rocker, a
Morris chair and a low, straight-back
chair, a lounge with plenty of cushioiis
and a single white bed.
Let there be placed about some new and
suitable books and magazines to read
snatches from. Nature books are espe
cially good, such as John Burroughs
“Wake Robin.” “Fresh Fields,” “Signs
and Seasons” or Van Dyke's “Little Riv
ers.”
Burn sprigs of lavender in the room for
the delicious fragrance it diffuses; it will
set the patient dreaming of old gardens
and their stimulating »weetness.
In autumn have an open fire and be
side it a basket of pine cones, which
burn beautifully and make glowing em
bers out of which the fancy creates end
less pictures, and thus engage the atten
tion of the patient, a chief object in this
trouble, as the mind is prone to intro
spection and unhealthy brooding.
, Last, but by no means least, serve the
most delipate and tempting fare you can
possibly afford and serve it in the dain
tiest way, for this nervous prostration pa
tient is of all others the most fastidious.
They must be tempted to eat. for with
out proper nourishment they cannot pull
qp physically or mentally. Dainty dishes
from out-side friends are enjoyed when the
equally tempting home food is declined.
WmBBF
Do not plan too much for a guest s
ainusement, says “What to Eat.” A
chance to choose one's diversion is often
more appreciated than a constant round
of gayeties. Especially, if your visitor
be a busy housewife, will she enjoy a day
in which there is no “must do.” She is
weary of engagements that must be punc
tually kept and is longing for an aimless
walk; or for an afternoon among the
shops in pursuit of her hobby; or for the
luxury "just once to finish a magazine
article without interruption"; or, perhaps,
for a long, lazy siesta in your favorite
oosy corner. Something of her own choice
will rest her. while an afternoon at the
club that interests you might only bore
her. Tell her how you are going to
spend the day, assure her you would be,
glad of her company, but let her under
stand she is free to follow her own in
clinations.
Make no attempt to vary your usual
bill of fare. Your guest will infinitely
prefer the newness of yo.ur dishes to an
imitation of her own. If you live in
the Country, the home-made bacon and
ham will be a real treat; and a bass,
fresh from'the river, will be a revelation
to one who has only eaten fish after it
h^s been packed In ice. If you live in
the city do not attempt to serve spring
chicken to your country guest. It is
impossible for a- town chicken ever to
Become the tender, toothsome morsel she
is used to at home. But the juicy steaks
and roasts you are so tired of, are a
treat she can seldom enjoy at her dis
tance from markets.
Endeavor to learn something from your
guest. She-will bring with her a new
ppint of view. Peculiarities in dress and
manners have always a basis in environ
ment and the habits you at first think
“queer” when studied in the light of cli
mate, architecture and occupation, will
be seen*to be for that individual the only
national habit. In the study you will
haye broadened your horizon and will
have prepared yourself better to enjoy
the return visit.
* * *
So many women are interested now in
clubs, patriotic societies, philanthropic
and civic work that the common ground
upon which strangers may meet is im
mensely widened since the not remote
days when domestic and personal affairs
were the sole topics of conversation.
Sdw afiy two Women of intellig-ence who
meet for the first -time may easily hit
. v ■- • *.
:.. ; ~ i.

upon a topic of mutual interest at once,
and pleasant acquaintanceship ensues.
The talk on hotel verandas is not what
it once was—a running fire ef criticism
aad comment on all who passed that way
—but the enthusiastic talk of women who
discuss impersonal matters with wisdom
and judgment.
One meets, however, some women who
make us marvel at their utter lack of
responsiveness to new impressions. They
go away tr* the best places, have hand
some outfits and sta^yi weeks or months
among a houseful of charming people,
and yet come away in nowise enriched
as to friends.
Usually they are women who get very
intimate on short acquaintance, make an
excellent impression at first, only to fall
I out about some trifle arid ignore their
former cronies. In spite of the general
evolution of the sex, as. seen at summer
resorts, the woman 'still exists who is
bounded, on the north by her aliments,
on the east by her children, on the west
by her servants, and on the south by her
clothes. But she, too, makes summer
friends, for there are others like her, 'and
like is attracted to like.
[ In his delightful “Characteristics” Dr.
I Weir Mitchell speaks of a friend of Dr.
North's who had a “talent for friend
ships” as a rare and enviable gift of the
gods, which it surely Is.
These summer acquaintances, If made
-with due circumspection, often become
lasting and valued friends; but it is a cu
rious fact that utter strangers from wide
ly separated cities are mote apt to take
people for what they seem to be than
if they are from the same city and have
previously known nothing of each other,
for there is no social salvation for the one
who does not live within the street bound
aries that the other holds to constitute
the habitation of the elect.
* * .
There had been diphtheria in the fam
ily; one child had the disease, and the
house mistress was congratulating herself
that no one was the worse for it but the
child who had taken the disease in the
first place, when she noticed that one
small member of the household seemed
out of sorts. It was the eanary. The
poor little fellow drooped his head, half
closed his eyes, and woqld not sing a
note. If he made a sound at all it was
a harsh, rasping noise,' ^nd he seemed
in distress. He would grasp the bars- ctf
the cage with his bill and pull and pull
upon them as if he were trying to pull
them out.
“Poor little fellow!” said the canary’s
mistress, after watching him for a time.
“He certainly is ill, and I believe he has
the diphtheria.”
Thereupon, making up her mind that she
had discovered the trouble, she decided to
apply remedies. She had in the house a
preparation of belladonna that had beert
given to the sick child. She dropped a
little of this into the water dish in the
bird’s cage. The effect w«as almost im
mediate. In an hour the little fellow had
brightened up, and in an hour and a half
he was singing as gayly as usual. Now.
the writer of this little story is not a
bird expert, and the miraculous effects of
the medicine may seem a little startling,
but that is the story exactly as it came
from the owner of the bird, a woman
whose veracity is not to be doubted.
* 38 *
“The girls treated principal and teach
ers with an exaggerated respect that
they most certainly showed to no other
mortal in the world,” writes Mary Louise
Graham of “My Boarding School for
Girls,” in “The Ladies’ Home Journal”
for August. “They could not grasp the
idea that they could talk to me as they
would any woman of my age at their
homes. 1 don’t quite know that I ought
to tell what was the opening wedge, the
beginning of the new order of things.
I have never regrettecf it in spite of the
fact that it was rather shocking and that
I was lame for days afterward. We were
all assembled in the schoolroom for pray
ers. I sat down inadvertenly on an
optical delusion of a chair, and as I
reached the floor I exclaimed involun
tarily at the top of my lungs:—“The
Devil!” I wish to remark parenthetically
that I am not in the habit of swearing,
that I think it a. most unladylike custom,
and I would advise my girls against it
if I ever dared approach the subject. In
this instance my swearing was probably
a case of atavism, my grandfather being
a most ungodly old specimen of a Puritan.
But, to return to tliat morning in the
schoolroom, there was a silence which
lasted about two seconds; then one girl
giggled. Well, it ended with two cases
of hysterics, and we didn’t have any
prayers that morning. But the episode
proved that I was human, and so it was
the beginning of better things.”
_ *
At this season of controversy over t.he
gifts for numerous weddings it will be
well to keep in mind a novel idea which
recently came from a most unexpected
source—one of society’s favorites who has
heretofore exhibited very little idea of the
practical side of life.
There are a great many articles that
some brides never succeed in getting in
all their lives, which some one might well
give them Cor wedding presents, and
which would often prove more sensible
than the usual peigction. This mdst
unique gift was displayed at a recent wed
ding. Among- the usual profusion of sil
ver and bric-a-bfac was an immense pack
ing case filled with homely things, over
which the bride expressed more satisfac
tion than she felt or showed over all the
"tldlee” and "fancy things” which rep
resented time and thought, or thfe expen
sive gifts in silver and gold. This pack
ing box contained the latent improvement
in braising pans, breadpans that made a
crusty edge on all sides, moulds for cold
puddings, a potato ricer, a wire basket for
croquettes, a bread grater, another for
onions and another for lemons, a hollow1
glass rolling pin, a set of ,meat skewers
and another set of bird skeWers, a soup
digester, a fish steamer, a cream whip, a
tube of eclairs and ever and ever so many
other up-to-date contrivances for making
kitchen work a joy.
Who presented them? Not an elderly
aunt, but a swell young bachelor, who
knew that the bride was going to live
where these things could not be had
easily; who knew that she was going to
do her own housework and would appre
ciate them, and who got an intelligent
woman to help him pick them out. He
spent the price of several silver articles
before he got through buying,, and the
tin and ’iron and agate and aluminum
wares w^ere much better appreciated than
•a. solid silver tea service would have be.
-.. '—
COVER MR WITH FLOWERS.
tFrom, the Spanish.]
Come wber£ ray lady lies
Sleeping down the golden boura!
Cover her with flowers.
Bluebells from the ^alearings,
Flag flowers from |he rilia,
Wildings*from the lush hedgerow:*,
Delicate, daffodils,
Bweetlings from the formal plots.
Blossoms jjrom the bowers —
Eeup them round her where she sleeps.
Cover her fcith flowers.
Sweet pea and pansy.
Red hawthorn and white,
Gillifiowcrs, like praising souls;
Lilies, lamps of light;
Kuralings of what happy winds,
Sufis and stars and .Showers—
Jojlcts good to see and smell.
Cover her with flowers.
Like to sky born shadows
Blirrored on a stream,
Let, their odors meet and mix
And waver through her dream.
La5t the crowded sweetness
Slumber overpowers,
And she feels the lips she love#
Craving through the flowers.
—W. E. Henley in North American Review.
| The Eleventh |
$ Juryman 1
1 He Was Obstinate, but Had X
O Reasons For Els Obstinacy. V
We had been ont of court 24 hours and
stood 11 to 1. The case was plain—at
least we 11 thought so. A murder of
peculiar atrocity had been committed,
aud though no eye had 'witnessed the
deed circumstances pointed to the prison*
er’s guilt with unfailing certainty..
The recusant juror had stood out from
the first. He acknowledged the cogency
of the proofs, confessed his inability to
reconcile the facts with the defendant’s
innocence, and yet on every vote went
steadily for acquittal. His conduct was
inexplicable. It could not result from a
lack of intelligenee, for, while he spoke
but little, his words were well chosen and
evinced a thorough understanding of the
ease.
I hough sti?4 in the prime or manhood
his locks were prematurely white, and
his face wore a singularly sad and
thoughtful expression'. He might be one
of those who entertained scruples as to
the right of society to inflict the death
penalty. But no, it was not that, for in
reply to such a suggestion he frankly
admitted that brutal men, like the vicious
brutes they resemble, must he controlled
through fear, and that dread of death, the
supreme terror, is in many cases the only
adequate restraint.
At tmi prospect of another night of
fruitless imprisonment we began to grow
impnticnt and expostulated warmly
: against what seemed an unreasonable
; captiousncss. and some not overkind re
j marks were indulged in as to the impro
priety of trifling with an oath like that
under which "we were acting.
“And yet,” the man answered, as
though communing with himself rather
than repelling the imputation, “it is con
science that hinders my concurrence in a
verdict approved by my judgment.”
“How can that be?” queried several at
once.
“Conscience may not always dar* to i
follow judgment.”
“But heft; she can know no other
guide.”
“I once would have said the same.”
“And what changed your opinion?”
The speaker’s manner was visibly agi
tated, and we awaited in silence the ex
planation which he seemed ready to give.
Mastering his emotion, as if in answer
to our looks of inquiry, he continued
“Twenty years ago I was a young man
just beginning life. Few had brighter
prospects and none brighter hopes. An
i attachment dating from childhood had
I ripened with its object. There had been
i no verbal declaration and acceptance of
j love, no formal plighting of troth, but
when I took my departure to seek a home
in the distant west it was a thing under
stood that when I had found it and put
it in order she was to share it. Life in
thp forest, though solitary, fs not neces
sarily lonesome. The kind of society af
forded by nature depends much on one
self. As fttr me, I lived wore in the fu
ture than m the present, and hope is aD
overcheerful companion. At length the
time came for making the final payment
on the home which I had bought. It.
would henceforth be my own. and in a
few more months my simple dwelling,
which I had spared no pains to render in
viting, would be graced by its mistress.
“At the laud office, which was some 60
miles off, I met my old friend, George
C. He, too, had come to seek his for
tune in the west, and we were both de
lighted with the meeting. He had
brought with him, he said, a stun of
moDoy which he desired to invest in land,
on which it was his purpose to settle. I
expressed a strong wish to have Kim for
a neighbor, and gave him a-cordial in
vitation to accompany me home, giving
it as my belief that he could nowhere
make a better selection than in that vicin
ity. He readily consented, and we set
out together. We bad not ridden many
miles when George suddenly recollected
: a commission he hod undertaken for a
I friend which would require his attend
, ance at a public sale on the following
day. Exacting a promise fhat he would
nbt delay his visit longer than necessary,
and having given minute directions as to
! the route. 1 continued my way homeward,
. while he turned back.
i was about retiring to nea on tne
1 night of my return when a summons from
without called me to the door. A stranger
a^ked fo-r shelter for himself aad horse
.for the night. I invited him In. Though
a stranger, his face seemed not unfamil
iar. He was probably one of .the men I
had seen at the land office, a place a!
that time much frequented. Offering him
a seat, I Went to see to his horse. The
poor animal, as well as I could sec by the
starlight, seemed to have been hardly
used. His panting sides bare witness ol
tnereiless riding, and a tremendous
shrinking at the slightest touch betokened
recent fright. On re-entering the house
I found the stranger was not there. Hi>
absence excited no surprise; he would
doubtless soon return. It was a little sin
gular, however, that he should have lef
his watch lying on the table.
“At the end of half an hour, my gue
not returning, I went, again to the stabh
thinking he might have found his w
thither to give personal attention to t'
wants of his horse. Beforo going ou
from mere force of habit—for we were r
pet uninfested by either thieves or polic
men—I took the precaution of putting ti
stranger's watch in a drawer in which
kept my own valuables. I found tl
horse as I had left him, and. gave him tl
food which he jvas now sufficiently coo
ed to be nllowed to eat, but his mast'
was nowhere to be seen. As I approach
ed the house a crowd of men on horse
back dashed up, and I was commanded
in no gentle tones to ‘standi’ In anothe.
moment 1 was in the clutches of those
who claimed me as their ‘prisoner.’
“I jvas too much stupefied at first to
! ask what it all meant. I did so at last |
a explanation came, It was terri
. hie! Hy li'k'nd;. with whom I had so
hite!y set out in company, had been found
murdered and robbed near the spot at
; which I, but I alone, knew- we had sepa
i rated. I was the last person known Xo
be with him, and 1 was now arrested on
suspicion of his murder. A search of tht
premises was immediately instituted.
The watch was found in the drawer in
which 1 had placed it and was identified
as the property of the murdered man.
His horse, too, was fonnd in my stable,
for the animal I had just put there Wai
none other. 1 recognized him myself
when I saw him in the light. What I
said I know not. My confusion was
taken as additional evidence. And when
at length I did command language to give
an intelligible statement it was received
with sneers and incredulity.
The mob spirit is inherent in man—at
least in crowds of men. It may not al
ways manifest itself in physical violence.
It sometimes contents itself with lynch
ing a character. But whatever its form,
it is always relentless, pitiless, cruel.
“As the proofs of my guilt one after
another came to light- low muttering*
gradually grew into a clamor for venge
ance, and but for the firmness of one
man, the officer who had me in charge,
I would doubtless have paid the penalty
of my supposed offense on the spot. It
was not sympathy that actuated my pro
tector. His heart was as hard as hi*
office, but he represerAed the majesty of
the law and took a sort or grim pride in
the position. As much under the glance
of his eye as before the muzzle of his
pistol, the cowardly elamorerg drew back.
Perhaps they were not sufficiently nu
merous to feel the full effect of that
mysterious reflex influence which makes
a crowd of men so much worse, and at
times so much better, than any one of
them singly.
“At then end of some months my trial
came. It could have but one result. Cir
cumstances too plainly declared my
guilt. I knew they lied. The absence of
the jury was very brief. To their ver
dict I paid but little heed. It was a sin
gle hideous word, but I hid long entici?
pa ted it and it made no impression.* Mb
little impression was mad* by the word's
of the judge which followed it, and his
solemn invocation that Ged might have
that mercy upon me which man was too
just to vouchsafe sounded like the hol
lowest of hollow mockeries. It may be
hard for the condemned criminal to meet
death; it is still harder fer him who is
innocent.. Tbe one. when the, first shocj;
is over, acquiesces in his doom and gives
himself to repentance; the heart of th*
other, filled with rebellion against man’s
injustice, can scarcely bring itself to ask
pardon of God. I had gradually over
come this feeling in spite of th* goed
clergyman’s irritating efforts, which were
mainly directed toward extracting a con
fession, without which, he assured me,
he had no hope to offer.
on the morning or the day fixed fo*
my execution I felt measurably resigned.
I had so long stood face to face with
death, had so accustomed myself to look
upon it as merely a momentary pang, that
I no lougeJ- felt solicitous save that my
memory should one day be vindicated.
She for whom I had gone to prepare a
home had already found ene in heaven.
The tidings of my calamity had broken
her heart. She alone of all the world
believed me innocent, and she bad died
with a prayer upon her lips that tbv
truth might yet be brought to light. All
this I had heard, and it had soothed, as
if sweet incense, my troubled spirit.
Death, however unwelcome the shape,
was now a portal, beyond which I could
see one angel waiting to receive me. I
heard the sennd of approaching footsteps,
and nerved myself to meet the expected
summons. The door of my cell opened,
and the sheriff and bis attendants en
tered. He held in his hand a paper. It
was doubtless my death warrant. He
began to read it. My thoughts were
busied elsewhere. The words ‘full and
free pardon’ were the first to strike my
preoccupied senses. They affected the
bystanders more than myself. Yet *o it
was; I was pardoned for an offense I hod
never committed!
“The real culprit, none other, it is need
less to say, than he who had sought and
abused mg hospitality, had been mortally
wounded in a recent affray in a distant
city, but had lived long enough to make
a disclosure, which had been laid before
the governor barely in time to Save me
from a shameful death, and condemn me
to a cheerless and burdensome fife. This
is my experience. My judgment, as years
in the case before ns, leads te but one
conclusion, that ef the prisoner’s guilt,
but not less confident and apparently un
erring was the judgment that falsely (nr
nounced my own.”
We no longer Importuned eur fellow
juror, but patiently awaited our dis
charge on the ground of inability to
agree, whfeh came at last.
The prisoner was tried and convicted at
a subsequent term, and at tho lost mo
ment confessed his crime en tho scaf
fold. _
The Climate of New Yerk.
fBy scientific methods It has beea dis
covered that the sun shines & greater
part of th# time In New York city than
in any European city of the first magni
tude. This may at first seem a little sur
prising to the people who have beea
brought up on the talk of “sunny Italy,"
etc., but in the presence of the actual
figures New York’s good fortune is not te
be doubted. Rome follows Gotham in the
list of sunny cities, but Is eonsidersbly
behind, with an average of 06, against
New York's 64. The hours when the sun
is above the horizon, of course, are only
considered in making lip this average.
London Is far behind, with 23. Cincinnati
i Times-Star.
Popular Pewter.
The popularity o£ pewter, says tho
“Lady's Pictorial," is extraordinary. Ev
ery bride is clamoring for it when, asked,
what she would like for a present, and
second-hand shops are being ransacked
for specimens. At a wedding the other
day no less than 50 pewter offerings were
made, some of which had been unearthed
in Germany and were absolutely beauti
ful.
Germany's Tallest Soldier.
A new recruit in the First Foot Guards
of the Kaiser Vvilliam is 7 feet 414 Inches
high—the tallest man the regiment has
had since 1S50. The man’s name is liheir
lauder. He would have delighted Krug
Frederick William the First.
How's This?
We offer One Hundred Dollars Reward
for any case of Catarrh that cannot bo
cured by Hall’s Catarrh Cure. .
F. J. CHENEY & CO., Prop*., Tol«*do, O.
We( the undersigned, have known F. J.
.Cheney for the last 15 years, and believs
him perfectly honorable In all businuss
transactions, and financially able to carry
out any obligation made by their firm.
WEST & TRUAX,
Wholesale Druggists, Toledo. O.
WALD1NG, KrN'N'AX & MABVIX,
Wholesale Druggists, Toledo, O;
Hall’s Catarrh Cure is taken internally,,
acting directly upqn the blood and mu
cous! surfaces of the/system. Price, 75q.
per bottle. Sold by all druggists. Testi
monials, free.
- Hall’s Family Pills are the best.

xml | txt