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l -[_■ ■ IN . ._ WOMAN’S! world! | | m" 'm m I'll' ^ j. j. a. J. j. a. J. «*iir«****A**********<* It is ah id that those who eat fruit need fewer stimulants than those who do not. There are many persons who simply caunot combine the two together. A 'ease is cited of a dipsomaniac who woulsd drink anything rather than water. She required something which would bite and sting and she would drink red ink, or, in fact, almost anything that was acrid. And so some fruits—at the out set, perhaps, unripe fruits—might help to remove any unnatural desire for drink. “With rare exceptions apples are good for those who follow a sedentary life. The juice of apples without sugar will often reduce acidity of the stomach, be coming changed into the alkaline cor rectives and thus curing sour fermenta tion. “Where unsweetened cider is used as a common beverage, stone or calculus is unknown; but how much better the fresh ripe fruit must be.” Oranges, again, are used as a cure for influenza, especially in Florida. Near ly every fruit will purify the blood, partly because of the soft water (which takes up more injurious material iu the system than hard water) and partly be cause of its salts. Lemon is famous for this reason. But such fruits are by no means rich in proteid. Somewhat richer, though overestimated in this respect, are figs and prunes and raisius. The banana abounds in fatty and oily material. Nuts are the proteid kings among fruits. It is on them that the apes main tain much of their vigor. Thus the almond can be thoroughly masticated, or else pounded or milled. It is rich in oil, as well as in proteid. Almonds and raisins, which are so often taken after a full meal, are, like cheese, absolutely a complete meal in them selves; so great is our ignorance about food values. It is said of the almond:—“Nut cream is recommended for brain workers. It is made as follows, pound in a mortar or mince finely three blanched almonds, two walnuts,-two ounces of pine kernels; steep over night in orange or lemon juice. This cream should be made fresh daily, and may be used in the place of butter. “Milk of almonds is made of the ker nels finely minced, with boiling water added. Almonds roasted to the color of amber are delicious to eat with biscuits or bread and butter. “Grated in a nut mill they are good to serve with any kind of stewed frait. They are useful ■medicinally, because of their soothing and emollient properties. They should always be blanched in hot water, the skins being indigestible.” . Good fruits should be chosen, and not pulpy and fibrous rubbish. These fruits should be carefully washed and eaten . while still fresh, if possible. As to the peel, some cannot digest it: but the juice witihin and near the peel is valuable, and hence the peel should be 'boiled and the strained water taken as a drink, or at least added to some dish. The fruit cure is probably the pleas antest of all cures. It has many vari eties, oranges, apples and grapes being three of the best-known kinds. • * * At least one firm is ready to meet the great demand for old Dutch silver, every crock and cranny of pretty VVilhielmina’s kingdom having been scoured for quaint antiques. In addition to these tine old pieces there are innumerable teproduc tions, the copies being the pieces to Which the majority aspire. Scroll work is prominent, and engraving and filagree are even more so. As for the pieces, there’s not space to begin to enumerate them. They range from didlo’s furniture in minature and various cabinet trinkets up. There are ever so many pretty pieces designed for feminine wear. Belts are among them. A real antique is a f>utch silver girdle marked $20. It is precisely .. the thing with which we are familiar in pictures and romance. There are also copies of these girdles. Those who prefer simply the buckles or' slides, or both, find a splendid assort ' ment. Some of them are in the most delicate and fascinating filagree. These pieces range from $4.5>0 to $8, and fair ones, with a talent for taking time by the forelock, are already selecting the Christ mas presents which they expect from good old Kris. Cape clasps at.$3.50 are very attrac tive and are used on any sort of wrap requiring but one fastening. Very smart burettes come in this old Dutch silver at $1.75 and $2. When in the hair only the two filagree knobs show, the bar being thrust under. Hat pins in Dutch silver are among the charming things. A sabot tops owe 1 pin, a stork another, while ships under full sail and windmills likewise moved are amoag these taking trifles. Quite 250 years old is the watch wonder which will grace some cabinet. Among its many virtues it possesses that of be ing bullet-proof. It has three cases, an outer one of dark tortoise-shell inlaid with silver, and the next one of silver. These two come off in turn by pressing i the different springs. The third one is the case proper, as we look at things, and is of silver. It is tight to the watch. The face is quaintly pretty in a number of delicate colorings. Ip r ’ • ••• -i •»-> - id ‘here is a chat mine allowing. The big forks ami spoons topped off with ships in full sail are favorites, and may be had for $10 or more, r Ever so quaint and charming are the | variously formed tea caddies; so are the sugar bowls, and so many pieces, in fact, I that one develops enough needs at the very sight of them to give one’s purse “that gone feeling.” Although these old pieces are all clean ed up there's a subdued beauty about them that makes new silver look ns un compromisingly bright as a freshly paint ed house. . • . Modish dressing is not necessarily a matter of expense. It is how a thing is done, not so much of what it is made, says the “Woman’s Home Companion.” If the color is becoming, and the cut, fit and design are fashionably correct, the material and trimming may often be in expensive and only fair in quality and yet the result be a distinct success. Though the autumn and winter fash ions are elaborate, and though velvets, costly silks and rich embroideries and trimmings play an important part in the new gowns, yet each model may be cop ied in less expensive materials with as tonishingly good effect, or one or two of the newest features may be duplicated in remodeling a last season’s frock. In materials the rough-Snisked goods are to 'be the vogue straight through the season. Zibeline closely woven and close ly sheared will be much worn, and what is known as the snowflake homespuns with their flecks of\white. Much/long haired camel's-hair will be used, and the cheviots and covets will be the standbys, as of old. Walking-suits-of corduroy made on the style of the summer shirt-waist suit will be especially in favor. Materials with crepe weaves are also considered good style. . * . A delicious chocolate cake is thus baked in layers and •filled with chocolate cream: * Beat to a cream one half cup of sugar and a quarter cup of butter, add one egg beaten, a half cup of milk, a cup and a half of flour, and two teaspoonfuls bak ing powder. Spread thin on tins and bake in rather thin oven. The filling requires one and a quarter squares of chocolate, one cupful of sugar, three-quarters of a cupful of flour, a tiny pinch of salt, two cupfuls of milk, two eggs and one tea spoonful of vanila. Melt the chocolate in a basin set within another basin of hot water. Mix the sugar and flour, salt and milk and add the two eggs slightly bea ten. Cook fifteen minutes, add the choco late and vanilla, cool and spread be tween the layers. For a delicious clam soup chop up half a dozen small clams. Heat one pint of milk and when it boils add the clams and half a pint of clam juice, a bit of celery, one slice of onion, a saltspoonful of cracker crumbs reduced to a powdery fineness. Cook very gently for five min utes. then remove the celery and the onion and any skum that may have form ed on the top. Increase the heat slight ly so as to bring the soup just to the point where it begins to boil, when it is ready to be served. . * . Flowers of all kinds are used on the toes of slippers. One slipper of a deli cate shade of pink with lace over it has blush roses with green leaves, another has deep pink roses, and still another white roses with foliage. A bride slipper lias orange blossoms and white tulle. Beautiful passementerie are to be found this fall. Pearls are combined with laces. In some instances heavy linen lace, and in some the fillet or string laces are used, combined with solid pat terns or medallions, and on these me dallions pearls are set, they being of all sizes and shapes, the round or pear shaped pearls being the most effective. * In royal purple velvet is a bonnet which suggests a Russian headdress. The back is of the plain velvet, and there is a standing piece similar to that on the brown bonnet, but it is of the purple and set with big ornaments or medallions of I metal embroidery blending beautifully with the purple. There is a tali aigi'ette also, but set oddly at the very centre of the back just over the hair, where the purple tulle springs are tacked in. The aigrette is of the purple also. During the season of autumn house parties it is incumbent on a hostess to perform her duties of hospitality with the utmost urbanity. It is no longer a question of being amiable for a few hours to people invited to dinner, or to an evening party. Every moment must be devoted to promoting the comfort, pleasure and satisfaction of her visitors. * * * y Tortoise shell combs are going to be worn as much as ever this fall, and the usual set includes three or four, the extra ' one being a pompadour comb which is placed in the hair entirely for service, as it does not show when the coiffure is completed. • * • Delightfully quaint are the copper chafing dishes which are fitted with the brown earthen, stumpy handled casser-; oles. The gleam of the copper frame mi) cover with the red gla*e of the dish is I StUiiwlii'A i OUR FASHION LEM Tailor Made Dresses Show Much Fancy Strapping. NEW IDEAS IN STREET GOWNS. Chat About Dainty Accessories ol Dress — Pretty Bolero Costnmes i Trimmed With Dace—A Novelty In Far. Pompadour and flowered silks of all kinds are very much the fashion. These beautiful silks and brocades are made up into evening gowns and cut very simply. They are often finished around the neck with a bertha of rare lace which almost hides the small sleeve puffs. The flowered brocades are also hand some for lining evening wraps, the lin ing nowadays being more than two thirds of the garment Three-quarter raincoats made of di agonal are very smart for rainy day and cool weather wear. They are j girl’s tailor made dress. made with half fitted backs or else with the fullness belted in with a short strap. The new tailor m&des are very fancy In the way of tucks and strappings. Many of the skirts are made habit back and finished simply with three long strappings or one long and two short, j The long skirts have fairly long trains, and the sides and front are very long. Rough goods, zibelines and camel's J hairs are worn on even dressy occa sions when a tailor made is required. The girl's tailor made illustrated is of dark blue cloth. The blouse jacket Is laid in perpendicular folds stitched flat, the wide revers are of embroidery and the little vest is of the same. The skirt has a plain front breadth, and the sides and back have three gored flounces. Blouse Suita. Fashionable modistes are using a great deal of ecru and string colored lace on gowns for the autumn season, and if of the heavy guipure type this is most effective on brown, tan and the deeper blue tints of soft woolen ma terial. The Russian blouse or coatee is no longer of the plain belted order, but is varied in many ways. Many of these blouses do not meet in front, but fasten over a plastron of cloth more or less decorated or em broidered, or there is a plain plastron of the material over which is arranged j PLAIN STREET DRESS. a full cascade of lace or ehiffop or a pouched front of silk or velvet These i plastrons are usually removable and , thus admit of variation. • • j ! A blouse coat of the deepest &feen j emerald velvet made in this manner ' was trimmed with jet and had a i tuekyl tpf tnrkjrt nwg rig Incrusted with motifs of string colored lace. These motifs were so outlined with jet that the liglit color was al most hidden. , The plain street dress in the picture is of rough gray clot)* trimmed with strappings of gray satin. The chem isette is of white taileta and yellow lace. Belt*, Collars and Stocks. The fluffy neck ruffle or boa has come to stay, and these are now being made to match each gown. Perhaps the most popular are made of tawny Russian lace to match and harmonize with the ecru and brown gowns now so much in vogue. The ends are made quite long and slender in contract to the capelike fullness over the shoulders. Many of the new stocks follow the example of this summer’s neckwear BOLERO COSTUME. and are made in deep points in the front. In others this same effect is gained by the addition of deep points and tabs. One of the newest collars is made of plain black silk and fastens in a double pointed effect with a medallion buckle a little to the left of the front. An other odd stock has an effect of two narrow silk ties, one fastened above the other. A belt and dollar of folded silk both have tt^e same long pointed effect in front and are finished off by a medallion of heavy lace In the back. The bolero costume illustrated is of pale gray broadcloth. The little collar is enlarged by means of a frill of lace. The wide sleeves and the bottom of the bolero are trimmed with tiny black ■ilk tassels. The skirt is perfectly plain with the exception of a fitted yoke. Novelties Is Unserle. A pretty idea for the trimming of a silk nightgown is a collar finished with a deep hem of a contrasting shade of silk. Pinks, blues, maijves and yel lows are all good colors to wash, but you must choose a good shade if you SMART FOB COAT. wish a fast dye. Imitation Valen ciennes lace is, after alh the best and cheapest trimming for silk or linen underwear, and it is almost impossible nowadays to tell tbe imitation from the real. » * Nothing is better than twilled silk for nightgowns when something hand somer aud warmer than linen is re quired. It is wise to invest in really good twilled silk, which will outwear three ordinary makes. " In the winter an extra slip of fine flannel, nuns’ veiling or cashmere is made to wear under the thin night gown. This gives a better effect than the unwieldy flannel nightgown,which, by tbe way. never launders well. The three-quarter fur coat in tbe Illustration is particularly srao/t It can be made of either mink or'sable, lured with white satin. The fullness 'of the back is belted in with a fur strap fastened down with steel but . ■: /■ -/ ■- ■ THE FARM 'IN- oJ THE HILLS MYSTERY BY FLORENCE WARDEN. " " ♦ mmmm ♦ - Copyright, 1899, by Florence Warden. CHAPTER XXVII. COCII TAL’S WABJTtXG. The oppression of the silence and of the gathering darkness was awful, ana Reginald Masson felt that he wanted to cry aloud, to do anything to break the mournful spell of dead, solemn stillness which hung over mountains and valley alike. He knew that it was useless to go back to the farmhouse, from the door of which he had just been ejected so ^unceremoniously. And, honoring and , trusting Gwyn Tregaron as he did, he could not but feel that this action on her part, strange though it was, had been calculated, that she felt it to be the best course to pursue to insure his safety. On the other hand, it was true that her attitude, when he refused to prom ise not to investigate further into his brother's fate, had been one of deft “Can you give me shelter for the nlghtt" asked Masson. ance, that sheffiad turned him out into the dangers of night upon the moun tains without a word of kindness or of farewell. j But even this action on her part fail ed to convince him that she was as hard as her words. As he made his way with difficulty down the hillside in the darkness he decided that he would fol low the advice she had given him at the beginning of their conversation and find the other farmhouse of which she had spoken. If he could get shelter for the night he would start on his way back to Tre coed early on the following morning. He turned to the left, therefore, when he reached the bottom of the hill and saw a light on the high ground above him on the left. After, a long and toilsome struggle, In the course of which he was plunged knee deep into drifts at every other Btep, he got to the foot of the hill, and from this spot found the asceut easy enough, as a path down the slope had been cut by the inhabitants of the farmhouse. He knocked, and a little active wom an, with sharp black eyes, opened it and looked at him in surprise. "Can you give me shelter for the nighty asked Masson, conscious of difficulties in his story. “I lost my way on the first day of the sfiow and have been staying at Monachlog farm ever since. Starting tonight on my way back to Trecoed, I have lost my way again, and so have no choice but to beg a lodging for the night.” Before he had finished his speech the good woman had opened th,e door wide to him and was nodding a cheerful as sent. I "Dear, dear!” cried she in the sharp Welsh accent with which he was now growing so familiar. “It’s a bad busi ness to lose one’s way among the hills at this time of year! And you may be thankful, sir, as you ever found your way to a shelter alive at all! And to be sure you’re welcome to such poor fare as we’ve got, and to such a bed as we Masson tried again to get some opinion on the matter of hds brother’s fate. ! can give you! I don’t say it’ll be what ' you’re used to, but it’ll be better than a snowdrift anyway!' And we can give ' you a hearty welcome!” The family was assembling ioi suo i. ...... A per, ana each member, on entering, greeted the newcomer, the men with a touch of the forelock, the women with a courtesy. There was the farmer i himself, the husband of the woman | who had made Masson welcome, and i there were three short, broad, sturdy sons and two shorter und equally I sturdy daughters. To Masson’s delight the conversa tion turned as soon as they were all seated at the table on the family at Monachlog. “And how’s the lass?” asked Mr. Thomas as he helped his family from a huge dish of ham and eggs. “I did hear as Tregaron was troubled about her. She’d caught cold out in the rain one day looking after the sheep for her father.” “She’s been very HI.” answered Mas son. “I was lucky in being able to be of some little service to them, foV I’m i a doctor, and Mr. Tregaron had been unable to get one to come and see his I daughter.” i Everybody looked Interested. “And I hope they treated you well, sir, up there?” said Thomas in an in quiring tone. “I had nothing to complain of,” an swered Masson. “But why do you ask? I thought you had all a great name for hospitality up here among the hills?” “Well, sir, I hope we have. But, you know, sir, different folks has different ways.” “He means, sir,” broke in his more talkative and less cautious wife, “that the Tregarons are not like other folks; leastways they haven’t been since Mrs. Tregaron died five years back and more. And my good man thought you’d maybe noticed it yourself, sir.” “And how do you account for that?” asked Masson. “Well, sir, David Tregaron was al ways an odd sort of a man, but his ! wife was a good one and helped things along. And since she went he's took life in a loose sort of a way, so we've wondered time and again how they’ve managed to get along at all. You want to put your best foot foremost to scrnpe a living up here, you know, sir, and we’ve often wondered how they make shift to get butter for their bread, letting things go as Tregaron does.” “It’s his man Merrick that they call Coch Tal that keeps him from going to pieces altogether,” said Thomas. “He's a capable sort, he- Is, and he wouldn’t be wasting his time there if It wasn’t for the lass.” “The old woman is a strange crea ture,” said Masson. “I never heard her open her Ups the whole time I was there.” There was a look of surprise on the face of every one at the table at these words. “She used to be talkative enough.” said Mrs. Thomas. “The difficulty was to get her to stop.” Thomas shook his head. “It’s just one more, sign of some thing wrong up there if old Mrs. Tre garon’s lost the gift of the gab.” said he. Nobody spoke for a few seconds. Then the farmer turned the conversa tion. “And might one ask, sir, what brought you to these wild parts just ns the bad weather was coming on*:'* said he. I “I came to try to find some trace of ; my brother,” replied Masson, “who was lost among these hills in the be ginning of October.” “Dear, dear! And have you been suc cessful, sir?” “Yes. And no. I have found that this Merrick, or Coch Tal, accompanied him into this valley, and that he went up to Monachlog to see the ruins. They tell ,me he went on by himself, but I can find no further trace.” The farmer and his wife exchanged A stealthy look. And with one accord they started fresh subjects of conver sation and refused to make any sug gestion or any hint which could either throw Masson off or on the scent he was pursuing. When the younger members of the family had gone to bed, Masson tried again, to get from the farmer or his wife some opinion, some suggestion on the matter of his brother’s fate. But nothing he could say, no persuasion or entreaty, or even affected doubt, could draw them from their determined reti cence. He slept soundly in a bed in the room with the farmer’s sons, and in the ear ly morning, when the lads got up, he started on his way to Trecoed, accom panied down the slope by the eldest lad. Just at the foot they found Coch Tal. wearing a gloomy expression of face and speaking in a short hard manner. “Sir,” said he to Masson, “I’ve come to tell you there’s more snow coming uvnru. auu )-oua oetter stay up uere j and not try to get back to Trecoed for j a day or two.” "Snow coming!" cried Masson in sur prise. “I shouldn’t have thought it by the look of the sky!” Coch Tal remained stolid. “Miss Tregaron told me to come and tell you so,” said he, with a gathering frown, And Without another word ho turn ed and began to plow his way back to , Monachlog through the snow, 'What would you have thought?” ' asked Masson, turning to t&& young , THE WEELITTLES VISIT ST. SOPHIA. ur*<e/*tt/e resents <*, tnxa/f- lvA//e /Aey <//*e * y/evetn*' /Ac AToxpue' pt ^ Ce/tstepf/'/HUf/e ’Svsrrr- c/te- *v&r kAAch rUs/fu enevg* Ac fafa T^txTa^A FIND HIS ANTAGONIST. man Desiae mm. "'mat mere was more snow coming down or not?” Young Thomas, without looking at his questioner, stared at the retreating figure of Coeb Tal. “If I’d been advised to stay, sir, by yon,” and he nodded in the direction of the redheaded peasant, “I’d stay.” 1 But Masson was obstinate. He was weary of the mysteries and dangers. So he shook his head In answer to the lad’s warning remark. “I must go,” said he. “It’s early. I have the dr y before me. The snow has melted a good deal. I can reach Tre coed before night, I’m pretty sure.” The lad looked at him askance. “This is a nasty place, sir, for trav elers,” said he in a courteous tone of protest. “It don’t seem so very far from here to Trecoed. but there’s four The next moment the farmer slipped and fell (In !',*Tl tiut'siiel* nf-thdt I..H travelers, strangers to the place, have been lost—altogether lost—hereabouts within the last few years!” Masson looked at him steadily. “Were none of them ever found?” he asked abruptly. “One was, sir, two years and more ago. His body was found between two rocks. And the water had washed away most of his clothes, and it was as much as they could do to swear it was him.” “Was foul play suspected?” “N-n-o. sir, not as I know of. This Is a nasty place to get lost In.” The lad seemed to be infected with the reticence his parents had shown. He was evidently anxious to get away and to avoid further cross examina- I tion. Masson smiled grimly to himself. ' “Well,” said he. "I shall risk it. Many thanks for the advice, though. I know it is good advice, though I’m too impa tient to take it. Goodby.” He held out his hand, and the lad took it. Masson had an odd fancy, which pursued him as he plowed his way down the valley through tbe snow, that the lad as he bade him goodby gave up all hope of ever seeing him again and even of his ever reach ing Treeoed alive. CHAPTER XXIV. A NARROW ESCAPE FROM DEATH. The morning light was growing stronger every minute as Masson, after bidding young Thomas goodby. started on his walk back to Trecoed. Presently he became conscious of-a feeling that he was being followed. He turned abruptly, but he had just rounded a bare bowlder, and be could see no more. The fancy was so strong upon him, however, that lie retraced bis steps and looked round the pro truding rock at the path he had traversed. There were footmarks which he had uot previously noticed ascending the path to the top of the rock, but still he saw no one. There descended upon his splrit3 with irresistible force a belief that he had not escaped from the mysterious dangers of jjonaehlog after alL Go which way he would, he could not get beyond the malign influence which he Colt to emanate from that uncanny household. He was shadowed, even now that he had left the house, by at) evil influence, impalable, but unmis" takable, which seemed to hang like a veil over him, shutting him in, closing him in. He began to feel a dreadful doubt whether he ever should get out of this valley; whether he should not share the mysterious, unknown fate which had overtaken his unhappy brother. v\ 1th eyes and ears on the alert, with his teeth fast set, with a savage des peration at his heart, he pressed for ward, bent on reaching once more the open ground in the valley below, where at least no ambush could be laid for him. The path which he was following, on the other hand, now turned to the right, and if he pursued it he would have to take a winding course, with more fatigue and loss of time, for be could see that it reappeared on the hill opposite to him, the very hill on which the old monastery stood. He felt that he did not want to go so near the place again. In spite of his tenderness for Gwyn the sight of the ruined gray walls filled him with a very definite horror and sense of danger. He resolved, therefore, to attempt the difficult task of leaving the path at this point and scrambling down the rugged hillside, which was at this point both rough and precipitous, into the valley below. He had scarcely taken the first step downward, however, when he heard a low, suppressed cry of warning from above, and looking up saw the head of Coch Tal looking at him from behind a jutting point of rock. "Take care,” said the peasant, “take care.” He had hardly uttered these words when Masson, who had already discov ered the need of great caution, as he found himself slipping down the snowy surface with a rapidity he had not cal culated upon, saw that Coch Tal was not looking down at him, but that he had got his eyes fixed intently upon a figure on the side of the opposite hill. In his desperate situation, for he wig slipping every moment faster down the hill, Masson had no chance of taking a very accurate survey. But he had an unpleasant sense of being surrounded, hemmed in by enemies, which was con siderably increased when his descent was suddenly stopped by a jutting piece of rock, by his perceiving that the figure which had attracted Coch Tal’s attention was that of old Mrs. Tregaron, who in her cap and shawl was crouching on the side of the oppo site hill on the outskirts of a small patch of firs and leafless bushes. She was watching him furtively, with her lean neck outstretched, and one skinny, dark hand pointing to som* spot a little way behind her. Masson bad scarcely had time to rec ognize her and to wonder what con nection her appearance had with that of Coch Tal, when he heard the report of a gun, saw a flash from out of the trees behind the old woman and heard a bullet whistle past him. The next. instant the old woman sprang up with a cry, and another fig ure rushed out from among the trees. It was David Tregaron, gun In hand. What followed happened so rapidly that it was like a confused dream. It was not until he thought it all over afterward that Masson understood the exact sequence of events. (To he continued.) -*■ Trip of 30.000 Males. Rev. Dr. Francis E. Clark, president of the United Societies of Christian En deavor, has just returned to Boston after a European trip in which he covered 30,000 miles. — - ♦ --- The Quickest Growing Pinnt. Cress is the quickest growing of plants. Under perfect conditions, it will flower and seed within eight days of piainting.