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IN WOMAN’S WORLD It is to the home-coming woman who 1 is sorely troubled over her little sun- ! browned hands that one would make a lew practical suggestions. f Sunburn and freckles will wear off in ^ time, but if time be too slow a healer ; there are other remedies. Nothing is bet- ■ ter to banish sunburn than a lotion of , rose water and glycerin, using of each , two ounces, and- half the quantity of cit- ! ric acid; apply when washing the hands. ; Freckles yield to daily applications of ! -Violet water, one ounce; glycerin, one j dram; tincture of benzoin, one-half dram, , and powdered boras, one-quarter dram. Rub the boras with the glycerin, gradu ally add the violet water, lastly the tinc ture of zenbflin, slowly stirring. Rub some of this* on the hands at night, and then draw on a pair of big but very dean, sweet-scented, white suede gloves, that ar .slit open in the palm aud crop ped off at the tips of every finger. After the hands have been whitened by this process they may be made soft aud satiny and pink-palmed by massaging them night and morning with a cold cream. Gently pinch and rub the emol lient into the palms with thumb and forefinger, and into the back of the hands with the forefinger. Very fine white sand, if used judicious ly, is one of the best things in the world to make the flesh white and firm. Take about a pint of sand and put it in a washbasin nearly filled with hot, soapy water. Wash the hands in this, rubbing thor oughly with the sand. Then rinse in tepid oatmeal water, and afterward thor oughly dry them, pushing back the flesh and pinching the tips of the fingers to keep them tapering, and the nails of good shape. The warhtttg imoatmeal water can be repeated now and* again daring the day. For moist hands use a little powdered borax in the bath water, dusting after ward with boraciceacid powder. Borax dries the ski&fl andsit should not be used too frequently. A/little powdered borax or a few drops of ammonia added to the water will cleanse the hands if they are stained or much soiled. Callous spots on the hands may be re moved by robbing them with pumice stone. Warts may be cured if touched lightly once a day with a solution of lac tic-acid and salicylic acid, of each one half dram, and four drams of collodion. This is applied with a small brush. Quite like old Worcester ivory in effect are the Teplitz hunting figures, quaint little statuettes depicting all manner of horsey figures. Winners, losers, jock eys, and the rest are all ready for the buyer in a Chestnut street store. Not as funny, but altogether exquisite, are some vases that same in the same lot all the way from the fascinating little health resort in Northern Bohemia. These pieces, which are marked Ampho ra underneath, are in a delicate.ivory tone, and for the most part are adorned in fine gilt traceries, a little color being added in some cases. Although delicate, the designs are on art nouveau lines. Ex quisite feminine heads are noted. But the most exquisite of them all perhaps is the shapely vase with the twig of a plum tree on one side. The foliage is perfection, and the little dark blue plums are, like fairy tales, too good to be true. But they look it. In .deed, part of the fuss is left on them and one is ready to wager they’ve just been brought from the depths of some cool, shady old orchard. The tailor gowns, with plain skirts and three-quarter-length coats made like the riding habits, will be the first to be 6een this autumn, says “Harper’s Bazar,” but later on will come again the (long gowns of cloth, in both light and dark colors, with quantities of material and elaborate trimming. These are charming, no doubt, for women .who can ride in their own carriages, but most in appropriate for the majority of the feminine population, who are forced to go about in public conveyances. Such must needs, therefore, provide themselves with both styles. A new shape in the circular skirt has come in this year; it is a very well cut one, which does not droop at the sides, as is the unfortunate habit of many circular shapes. A good skirt also is one that has a seam down the front, circular gores at the sides, and straight breadths at the back. The "habit skirt is back again, but-with moretfullness below l the waist. , 5 , k. . The whites of raw ■ eggs are very nour ishing. A good way to prepare the drink, according to one who' knows, is to break the white into a jar, with what milk is desired, and shake the two thoroughly together. A pinch of salt should be add ed. An English specialist recommends to adult (patients suffering from anaemic condition the daily consumption of eight or ten egg whites. They can be taken clear and with easeuf the eggs are kept very cold,/broken (iuto a cold glass and used at once. Another excellent drink is made'by beating the white of an egg to a froth and adding a tablespoonful of rich cream and a> spoonful of brandy, this is a very nourishing cordial for an in valid. If you biave a beaver hnt'.of acceptable shape, which means one possessing a large crown, left overt-in your wardrobe you can easily, make it presentable by. applying a velvet facing. Get a skilled milliner to do this for you, even if you .decide to trim the hat yourself. On a velvet face much of the style of the hat depends. You will probably want bird s wings or plumage to wear through the autumn months. It is too early to look forward to winter styles, but there is no doubt as to what is desirable for October and November, the months during which one is most out of doors. The large cape collar that has been seen so much all spring and summer will also find a welcome place on the autumn dresses. Such adjuncts finish off a dress, while imparting a broad, stately effect to one’s figure. Thes’e collars will not be plain, but will be characterized by any amount of applique, incrustations and petit pois decoration. The latter, while being greatly 1 employed, has changed somewhat since its introduction. Then it was a tiny round dot worked in em broidery silk. The same silk is used, but the dot has now assumed a starlike figure, larger and more pronounced than its predecessor. Such items as these are small when considered in detail, but the success or failure of the effect of a dress is largely dependent upon such trivialit ies. A cluster bag, says the London “Graphic,” is a useful addition to a drawing room—a hiding place for a silk or cotton duster to be used by the mis tress of the house in case of emergencies. String-colored linen is the best material for the purpose, and it can be embroider ed with poppies or corn flowers, and tied up with ribbons to match. Some people keep a doll’s dustpan and brush in the bag besides, so that if there is any little accident its traces can be removed at once without calling in the aid of a ser vant. Many persons are troubled with greasi ness of the skin. Sometimes the greasi ness may be overcome by wiping over with a soft rag dipped In white wine, or in toilet vinegar and water; a weak solution of alum and water is also bene ficial. If the skin is very oily the follow ing solution is useful:—Sulphate of zinc, 4 grains; compound tincture of lavender, 1G minims; distilled water, 2 ounces; mix well and apply with a piece of soft rag. For fried tomatoes select large, firm tomatoes, and remove the skins by dip ping for a moment in boiling water, says the “Pilgrim.” If pared with a knife the pulp will be broken and the juice es cape. When they are cold cut in slices and dip immediately in white of egg and then in corn meal. If the slices stand for any length of time they be come soft and juicy. Cook in deep fat, or until a delicate brown, and serve very hot. Crumbs can be used instead of the corn meal, but the latter is pre ferred by many, and is also much used in frying small fish, such as perch. The tomatoes can be used as a garnish. A simple ^contrivance for producing soft waves in the hair is made of rubber in colors to match the shade of the hair. It is flat, about a quarter of an inch at the widest part. At one end is a tiny knob and at the other a small ring, while through the centre runs a narrow slit. Through this opening the strand of hair is drawn and the hair wound around the curler. A rubber cord loops into the ring and is pulled over and caught on the opposite knob. The waviness is secured much more quickly than by other methods and the rubber does not in any way injure the hair. The brilliant shade of red which tones in acceptably with an autumn landscape is yclept “Coronation” red. It is right rogal in its vigor and intensity. The young girl shows it in the top-knot of ribbon which holds her tresses away from her forehead, and in the close-knit woolen “Guernsey” with which she watches football practice heedless of gathering mists and damps. Even the woman who “never wears red” shows a glint of the coronation color in a twist of velvet ribbon at her waist or throat or in the platron cravat which swings above her autumn jacket. * * • There is a fashion in dolls, as in every-' thing else, and the ‘latest candidate for favor is the Ping Pong doll, which will delight small maidens this Christmas. The doll utters the name of the popular game when her arms are raised, and may be regarded as a girl of the period com pared with her predecessors, whose speech seldom went beyond the murmur ing of “mama” or “papa.” This new doll is sent out into the world neatly packed up with her bats and balls ready for action. Peeling from Iem<jn» and oranges throw into cold water, place on the stove and when they come to a boilVdrain the water off and cover again with cold water. Let them boil fifteen minutes. Make a syrup of sugar and water, put the peeling into this, and boil untiltrnns parent. Roll in sugar, then place on a plate to dry. This in fine in fruit cake. * * . Damask dinner cloths and napkins should have a hem a trifle less than a quarter of an inch wide. This should bo hand sewed and very neatly done. THE GIRL THE By VIOLA ROSEBORO* T’S a great problem, of course,” said Nancy Randolph Rutledge, folding her hands in front of her portly per son, “yet I can but feel «that in this case Beulah has cboseu wisely. Genius has more rfgjits In some ways, and in some it has less. She shouldn't feel that she is free to fold.her talent In a napkin; she doesn't.” “No, no,” murmured little Mrs. Gar ner, “but it seems mighty hard and— and difficult, doesn’t It? Do you think she minded giving him up very much? They had been engaged so long,” she added apologetically. “She’s absorbed in her art,” replied Miss Nancy impressively. “Her life is consecrated to it.” The pair were sitting in Miss Nan cy’s flat in Ninety-seventh street, and the room in itself was a biography. The walls were hung with what Miss Nancy called (and I capitalize accord ing to her sentiment) Ancestral Por traits—five of them, and wonderful things they were. In one corner was a tiny brown old Erard piano, the first Erard ever made, I should think. It was still capable of sending forth an odd. pleasant eighteenth century-like tinkle. Some battered old pieces of sil er, a cake basket and a teapot taking the . honors, stood in solemn dignity on the elaborate, shiny, new hardwood mantelpiece. Miss Nancy Rutledge was an elderly and unmarried lady, but if you allow yourself to turn toward her any of your usual slighting and condescend ing sentiments for spinsters you are offering her the first patronage she ev er received in this world. Miss Nancy, in the kindest, most unconscious way, patronized creation. Never out of the south was an unmarried woman so generally and simply allowed preced ence over all matrons as was given Miss Nancy in her own world. It was not that .these southerners loped mar riage. lpss—far from it—but that they loved intellect more, and intellect was what Miss Nancy tacitly and firmly claimed to have, was supposed to have and did have, the amount thereof in question declining slightly with each successive step of this statement. Miss Nancy had come north to live off the enemy amid the prayers and plaudits of admiring friends, and their prayers and plaudits had echoed around her throughout the five years in which she. had gallantly triumphed over bankruptcy, in New York. In that 'time she had played many parts; she had written,for the papers, had taught mathematics in a school, had assisted in the editorship of a new and impe cunious paper devoted, as its title page stated, to developing the resources of the. south and had given lectures on the history of Virginia in the parlors of some rich people who could never forget—though sometimes sorely tempt ed—that they were'born south of Ma son and Dixon’s line, and of late, in the midst of work upon a life of Gen eral Lee, for the Southern subscription trade,' she had found a new resource in the care of a small portion of that army of southern girls which is now constantly encamped among us. She had three in the house with her and devoted some attention to several liv ing elsewhere. The office of chaperon suited Miss Nancy. According to her, ail girls were lovely, most of them beautiful—“perfect belles at home”— and the pleasure of devoting her stores of garnered wisdom to their service re newed her joy in life. She was benev olent, sincerely so, and believed, with a good showing of reason, in her pow er to guide and instruct humanity at large and also was humanly suscepti ble to the charms of appreciation. The very groundwork of Miss Nancy’s claims was common sense. You could see that in every line of her matronly figure and hear it in every note of her ! pleasant, hearty voice, and in her large i featured face and bright gray eyes i common sense was enthroned. ! But, contrary to popular prejudice, S human beings are constantly rendered ! unknown quantities by the possession j of quite contradictory qualities, and Miss Nancy, to tell the truth, had been j subject in her life to a few enthusi i «tyns which left her common sense— * * i • AND PROBLEM Copyright, 1902, by , the Century Company sometimes for better, sometimes ,Jor worse—far behind. One among those young ladies whom she now called ! “her girls” was the object of a venera tion that must be considered to have had its rise In the romantic, the high er side of Miss Nancy’s nature. She had khown her sine# she was in long clothes, but not till about a year be fore this conversation with Mrs. Gar ner did she honor her with more notice than lay in that general amiable pat ronage of which I have spoken and which she constantly dispensed about her like a perfume—bergamot, say. This girl was, of course, the heroine of Mrs. Garner’s speculations, so you already know that she had genius, au art and a lover—a decent equipment, I take it, for her position as my heroine. A little more than a year before Miss Nancy bad visited Beulah’s mother, and during that visit she had con ceived an entirely new idea of Beulah. Beulah, like every other southern girl ; at home, was generally—according to j the formula—voted mighty sweet and ; right pretty—that is, pretty a little— t but it was only recently that she had | developed any special claims to i distinction. Now Miss Nancy found ! that she was an artist, not fully fledged | perhaps—oh, no; to be sure not—but \ unmistakably an artist, and to that | title, which Miss Nancy gave only to i painters and sculptors, she bowed with | the most curious and common blind I reverence in the world. It would be j impossible to exaggerate the simplicity | of Miss Nancy's attitude toward these i arts; in word, it was of that familiar j sort which feels an oji painting to be i an oil painting and a very imposing j thing too. Of;course Beulah did not j make oil paintings; with all her genius she had not yet arrived at that stage. But let us go back for a moment to the beginning of her artistic career. When the Baptist Female college of ■ her town added a new drawing master to Its “faculty," several young ladies of society, Beulah among the number, had been moved by the fame of its ac : eomplishments so far to renew their i connection with the school as to take : a course of lessons freja him. Beulah ; always had clever Regers. She had done beautiful '‘tatting’’ when she was only a little girl, and now she distin guished herself in the drawing class. She was soon drawing her own em broidery patterns and beginning her I ascent of that pinnacle of fame on which ere long she was to sit en i throned. She enjoyed this new outlet for her | abundant energies, and in the nature of i things she enjoyed the new considera | tion she won. She began to feel a I Certain tradition born awe of her own : gifts. Her position toward art was ex actly Miss Nancy’s own. She felt for it or, rather, for the name the supersti : tious, unsympathetic veneration which 1 some philosophers explain as a result ! of art’s dependence on religion in the i middle ages. At any rate, when Beu I lah found herself making a recogni zable sketch' of the water pitcher—for ; the new master was very advanced i and.insisted on study from the object— i her heart palpitated with the magni tude of the dreams of glory that floated In upon her mind. Then came Miss Nancy. Miss Nancy gazed upon the water pitcher and ute flower embroid ery patterns with profound emotion. ' She urged Beulah-to come to New York ■ and have the best instruction, and ! finally Beulah came. By chance she j fell upon the plan of going to the Art | Students’ league, and now she had had | one season’s instruction there and was | beginning her second year. Naturally within this year her ideas ' had undergone some changes, but for ; the greatest change of all—the deter \ mination not to marry Tom McGrath— ■ the league could hardly be held direct i ly responsible. Southerners have a 1 pleasant reputatiou for friendliness I with strangers, because they so readily ' suppose others to be “nice people,” various evidences of niceness being more conclusive in the old southern world than they are at present in New York; but if southerners do not feel sure that you are of their own kind, if they are even puzzled as to where you belong (according to their remarkably simple ideas of classification), they are little likely to be friendly, not being apt to cdre for social experiments. All this is but a preface to the statement that Beulah had scant acquaintance with her fellow students. She thought the young women generally given to queer clothes and that the young men lacked what she called “polish;” polish in her language meaning, though perhaps she had never thought of It, deference to women. So tlie dear girl let her social chances for league associations, with all their edu cational influences, slip by her in the gentlest, firmest little way in the world —in exactly a nice nineteen-year-old i way, in fact. She was a,dear girl, and i she showed it in failing to become ut | terly insufferable under the adulation ! that now, away from the league, j surged around her. This it was that | might be said to have brought about ! the momentous change I have men ; tioned—this adulation and Miss i Nancy’s blarty and insistent fostering I of all the dreams it excited. Miss ' Nancy bad just been explaining Beu I lah’s present position to Mrs. Garner. ] Mrs. Garner was a friend who lived is Beulah’s nome county, and was now visiting New York. “She took a g^eat many sketches home with her last summer,” said Miss Nancy, “and everybody was aston ished. I reckon a great many people felt that it was a great pity to see a girl with gifts like that just settle down into the ordinary humdrum.” “The duties of a wife and mother”— began Mrs. Garner, with slightly agi tated solemnity. She was very humble with Miss Nancy, but the “ordinary humdrum” was a phrase that pro voked even her to turn to the arsenal of platitudes for a weapon. She had ' it in her heart to try to remind Miss Nancy that the most important offices of life were the very ones she had never been called upon to fill. put little could she cope with Miss Nancy, who, secretly amused, swam beneficently on with the conversation, wishing to soothe the little woman’s feelings and Without the faintest con ception of the malice of her intentions. “The duties of a wife and mother are sacred, Molly. But without her art Beulah, though a sweet girl, might likely enough be a humdrum person. I don’t think she has the feeling for duty that you havd, for instance, and that you always had, Molly. But her art lifts her above herself. For a long time she seemed to have less feeling about her talent than her friends did, but I talked to her. I did that much. I would notMirge her one way or the other about her marriage, but I want ed her to realize what a great trust a gift like that was and to make her choice solemnly. It isn’t even as if Tom McGrath were going to live in Virginia. In Texas she will be out of the way of instruction and of all those associations that would stimulate her and give her something to work for. And, then, we know under the best of circumstances”— Miss Nancy shook her head and sighed. Despite ex pressed views as to its desirability in her secret heart she really could but look on matrimony as an abyss that swallowed up many high hopes. In her day she had put such a deal of en thusiasm into teaching girls who—got married. So sue made up her mind?” said Mrs. Garner, with a suspended inflec tion. “Yes, at last. Her pa and ma didn’t urge her one way or the other. I think Mrs. Hunt herself would a little rather she had married—she’s very conservative, you know—but Mr. Hunt never wanted her to anyhow, and they both felt the responsibility of the great future there was before her. I reckon she settled it just before she came back.” And then it was that Miss * Nancy had admitted the harmonizing of woman’s development and woman’s sphere to be a great problem. Presently Beulah entered. She was just home from her work at the league rooms and had a sketchbook under her arm. Mrs. Garner got up to greet her in a little flutter of excitement. “Oh, Beulah, you’ve become a great woman since I saw you.” Beulah stooped a little to kiss her and said serenely, “I’m just beginning. Miss Molly.” “I so long to see some of your won derful things. You’ll show me some, won’t you?” “You are very kind; I’ll be delighted to,” said Beulah, and, excusing herself a moment, she went to her room, laid aside her coat and hat, ran a comb through the dark curls on her fore head, powdered her face afresh, and then, without loss of time, got out an armful of sketches and studies from the bottom of her wardrobe, and, smil ing and polite, walked back to Mrs. Qarner. She sat down beside her, drew up a chair to rest the pile upon and showed them all to her, conscien tiously, one by one, telling her in the meantime which were the hour ; sketches and which had had a favor able word from her teachers—telling, : Mrs. Gamer got up to greet her. ' in short, in the most instinctively cal culated manner, all the things that Mrs. Garner would understand as re flecting credit upon herself. “This girl didn’t have a very nice complexion, did she? That’s why you’ve made it so dark and reddish, isn’t it?” said Mrs. Garner hesitating ly after various half articulate mur murs of admiration. She could not repress a little automatic effort to find out why these things, which wetfe so much less pretty than the pictures in an illustrated weekly, were so much more wonderful, a fact she never dreamed of questioning. “Oh, no,” said Beulah. VShe had a very nice complexion, but the light was not strong on it, and then, yon sec, these things are done in such a hurry we only try to got the figure, the ae tioB.” It did not annoy her in the laast .when people did not understand. She liked to explain a little, and she nevac j THE WEELITTLES IN GERMANY. They *rre rrundled dheuh Berlin m. a feller e/urir’ d/uZ ever view- Z~ke ZhdZioreZ UcaeLsrnv. Zre/r th. 5* Wee Ziffle jujffe'Sh Zht^i l/ie/r epjn/iic Jr /Ze/j L l/Jre A &e£*z wsrissP** h dp FIND THE DOG THAT IS FOLLOWING THEM. doubted their admiration—their ad miration of her for making the pic tures. She was quite astute enough to feel that, the admiratknl of the things themselves was not always a sponta neous burst. It did not disturb her that many of her friends suffered a little disappointment with themselves over the dullness of their sensations before real hand paintings. She realized that the tradition of their value remained unshaken. Mrs. Garner looked at the last draw ing and then leaned back and gazed with emotion upon Beulah—Beulah looking so pleasant and simple behfhd the collection of her complete works. “It’s very wonderful—wonderful,” Mrs. Garner murmured, shaking her head slowly and thinking of more things than one. Beulah smiled sweetly. "“And it makes you very happy, does it, dear ?” Beulah detected a thread of curiosity in the question that she resented, but she still smiled as she rose with the works on her arm and said: “Yes, indeed. Miss Molly. I could not be happy without my art.” And Miss Nancy nodded her approval. Life went on serenely in our house hold for several months after this. Southern visitors continually dropped in, and all, like Mrs. Garner, M'ere treated to a sight of Beulah’s produc tions. Miss Nancy called for them If no one else did, and she was apt to give an awe inspiring hint 4vhen Beu lah was out of the poom as to the sacri fices the girl had made for her art's sake. After awhile a change began to show in Beulah. She worked harder than ever, she painted early and late, and she grew more and more silent, and on Sunday, when she could not paint, more and more restless. She was no longer content to hide her sto ry book in. her lap for solace while she dutifully and patiently sat and pre served the look of listening through long chapters of Jeremiah read aloud by shortsighted Miss Nancy. “I’m afraid, Beulah, my child,” said Miss Nancy solemnly one morning, stopping and laying her open book upon her lap—“I’mr much afraid you are letting your delight in an earthly gift and your love of an earthly art draw you away from your Interest in things eternal.” Beulali had been fidgeting from one window to another after having three times found excuses for leaving the room. Now she still stood at a win dow and answered without turning around, “I’m afraid I am, Miss Nan cy.” But afterward she sat down and remained quiet through the next chap ter, though sustained by no other dis traction than her own thoughts. To do Beulah justice, she was always willing to do as much through one chapter. That, she said, slje had been raised to. Miss Nancy had not expressed her fears fully. What she said to Beulah was what she said to herself, but down in the depths of her being lurked a faint uneasiness that she did not ac knowledge. It was very annoying, tha way one person and another began to remark that Beulah was not looking well; that she was losing flesh. How could she look well when even after dinner at home she got out paper and charcoal and fell again upon the work that had occupied her all day? Genius, of course, often did burn itself out in that way, but she had always felt that she had reason to hope Beulah was better balanced. She was so far shak en out of her usual noble poise as to protest crossly several times against so much work, but one night after one of these scoldings she heard the girl walking up and down In the drawing room till 3 o’clock in the morning, and. instead of the sense of Intolerant out rage with which she would usually have greeted such a performance, an odd forbearance fell upon her. After a month, in which Beulah’s appetite and color did not improve, Miss Nancy got a letter In which, among other bits of gossip, she read: “Mary has had a let ter from her nephew from San Anto nio, and he says he has heard that Tom McGrath is courting a girl In Houston; that people think it will be a match.” Miss Nancy’s heart lightened. If you will believe it, she thought to herself that now Beulah’s pride would come to her regime, and make, her forset a / # * man WtlO nua so soon lurgoiren ner. This hope was her first admission to herself of her fears, and you see from it that Miss Nancy had exalted ideas as to the offices and possibilities of womanly pride and also that she had the usual feminine and profound at tachment to the most romantic ideal of constancy—constancy under the most | discouraging circumstances—for men. She meditated on how easily and light ; ly to put before Beulah the base fickle | uess of the discarded one, but the more she thought about it the less she knew how to do it. If ever there was an old maid in every fiber of her being, it was the hearty, wholesome, large minded Miss Nancy, and consequently her theories of love at ’ love affairs ; were of the most assured, definite, I comprehensive character; but there ! was something about Beulah these ■ days that gave her pause and for once in a lifetime penetrated her soul with an unacknowledged but dreadful doubt of her own complete understanding of | all the mysteries of human,life. Before she found a way to speak to Beulah of Tom McGrath’s lightness she got a letter from Beulah’s mother ; mentioning the same subject as a i hearsay report and adding that she had written of it to Beulah—why, she did not say, and who knows? ! The day that this letter came Beulah did not come home to dinner. It was 8 o’clock when Miss Nancy heard the door of the fiat hall open and. hurrying to the parlor entrance with unaccus tomed speed, saw Beulah dragging her self wearily into her own tiny bed room. A feeling of relief was suc ceeded by a righteous and tempered indignation in Miss Nancy’s heart. She had not intimated to the other girls that Beulah’s absence was to her un expected; on the contrary, so far as was consistent with her ideas of Pres byterian doctrine, she had intimated exactly the other thing. She was dis posed to maintain something like boarding school discipline over her girls, apd they, she well knew, with their associations, were all too likely to imbibe the odious doctrines of youthful feminine freedom with which the dreadful Sunday papers reeked. She now thought that to go at once and speak to Beulah alone would be the best way of maintaining discipline. She knocked at the door and, immedi ately opening it, found herself face to face with a very white, wide eyed 1 young woman, who stood in front of her chaperon as if barring the way. ‘ Beulali, my dear child, began Miss Nancy in her most sadly serious way, her hands resting upon her stomach, “I cannot feel that this evening you have treated me or m/ household with the respect that is my due, and I feel that it is for your own”— "Because I did not come home to din ner?” Beulah broke in, in an unfamil iar, hard voice and without the slight est apparent consciousness of the rude ness of her interruption. ”1 beg your pardon; I am very sorry.” "Where have you been, Beulah?” said Miss I?hncy, still trying to live up to her standard of an ideal disci plinarian.' “Been?” Beulah repeated, pushing her hair away from her forehead and looking through space. “I don't know —oh, I have been walking.” She brought her eyes back to Miss Nancy’s and then added quickly: "I had my lunch very late; I don’t want any din ner. I have been taking a little exer cise in the park.” This explanation was a small conces sion to duty and decency, to be sure, but Miss Nancy’s well trained ear was conscious of a singular indifference in the girl's tone. Site was uncomforta ble. She felt like retreating. She did retreat, but not till she had covered that move by saying: “Very well, Beu lah, but I don’t expect this to occur again. It is not proper conduct. I will go and fix you a plate of bread and butter and make you a cup of cof fee and bring them to you. It is my duty,” raising her voice a trifle in an swer to Beulah's impatient wave of protest, “to see that you do not injure your health by your own—your own folly. I shall expect you to eat some tiainep.” (To be continued.) LADIhS! Use Chichester's English Pennyroyal PIBs, Rot! Shft«t! «i»ljr KelLtAe! T.k£ ... other. Buy ofytur Dru*#iat, or send 4c., stamps, for par its. nl«Ts and" “Relief for Ladiei, Inlettei by return .aall. WtlekMtcr Chemical «&, rkiuia, l'a> RAILROADS. Pennsylvania RAILROAD, THE STANDARD RAILROAD OF AMERICA IN EFFECT OCTOBER 6, 1902. ; 1. Trains leave Jersey City as roiiouvsj— X±lL FOR THE WTEST. 8.16 A. M., daily, Fast Mall, limited to twg Buffet Parlor Cars, Jersey City to Pittsburg. Sleeping Car Pittsburg to Chicago. (No coached to Pittsburg.) 9.14 A. M., daily, Fast Line, with Buffet Parlor Car to Pittsburg. Pullman Sleeping Car Pittsburg to Cleveland. 10.14 a. M., daily, the celebrated Pennsylvania Limited, the ploheer of this class of the ser vice, composed exclusively of Pullman Vesti bule Compartment, Sleeping, Dining, Observa tion and Smoking Cars, lighted by stationary and movable electric lights, for Pittsburg, Chicago, Cleveland, Toledo, Cincinnati, Indian apolis, Louisville and St. Louis. 2.13 P. M., the Pennsylvania Special—20-Hour Train to Chicago. Pullman Observation, Drawing-room, Sleeping, Dining and Buffet Smoking Car. 2.14 P. M., daily, Chicago and St. Louis Ex press with Vestibule Sleeping and Dining Cars, to St. Louis and Chicago. Connects for Toledo. Through Sleeping Car to Nashville (via Cin cinnati and Louisville) and Indianapolis. 6.13 P. M., daily, St. Louis Express for Pitts burg, Columbus, Indianapolis, Louisville and St. Louis. Pullman Sleeping Car to St. Louis. 6.15 P. M., daily. Western Express, with Vestibule Sleeping Cars to Pittsburg and Chicago. For Toledo, except Saturday. Dinmg Car. 8.14 P. M., daily. Pacific Express, Pullman Sleeping Car to Pittsburg and Chicago. Con nects for Cleveland except Saturday. Daily for Knoxville, Tenn., via Shenandoah Valley Route. 8.44 P. M., dally, Cleveland and Cincinnati Express* Pullman Vestibule Sleeping Cars to Pittsburg, Cleveland and Cincinnati. Dining Car. BALTIMORE, WASHINGTON AND THE SUL'TH. For Baltimore, Washington aod the South at 8.15, 8.41, 9.43, 19.32 (Dining Ca»), 11.14 (Dining Car) A. M.; 1.14 (Dining Car), 1.15, 2.33 (3.44 Congressional Limited, Parlor Cars and Penn sylvania Railroad Dining Car), 3.45 (Dining Car), 4.45 (Dining Car), 5.14 (Dining Car), and 9.44 P M. and 12.30 night. On Sunday. 8.44, 9.45 (Dining Car). 11.14 (Dining Car) A. M.. 1.14 (Dining Car), 1.15 (3.44 Congressional Limited Parlor Cars and Pennsylvania Railroad D.nmg Car). 3.45 (Dining Car), 4.45 (Dining Car). 5.14 (Dining Car), and 9.44 P. M. and 12.30 nigh:. Southern Railway—Express, 3.45, 4.43 P. II., 12.30 night dally. Norfolk and Western Railway—For Memphl* anil New Orleans. 3.45 P. M. daily. Atlantic Coast Line—Express. 9.45 A. M. and 9.44 P. M. daily. _ Chesapeake & Ohio Railway—8.15 A- M. week days. 1.14 and 5.14 P. M. dally. Seaboard Air Line—Florida and Metropolitan Limited. 1.15 P. M. daily. Express, 12.30 A. M. dal!l' FOR PHILADELPHIA. Express for Philadelphia. 0.33, 7.44, 7.45. 8.13, 8 44. 9.14. 9.43 (10.14) Pennsylvania Limited). 10.3J (Dining Car), and 111( (Dining Car) A. M.: 12.15, 1.14. 1.15, 2.14 (D’into* Car). 2.33. 3.13. 3 43 (Dining Car), 4.13. 4.«. Aft (Dining Car), 5.14, 6.13 (Dining Car), 6.15 (Dining Car). 8.14. S 44. 9 14 9.44 P. M„ and 12.22 nignt. Sunday. 6.34. 8 16 8 44, 9.14. 9.4o (Dining Car), (11.14 Penn sylvania Limited) 10.15 11.14 (Dining Car) A M., 1.14 (Dining Car) 1.1„ 2.14 (Dining Cnr), i 3.45 (Dining Car), 4.13, 4.4a (Dining Car). 5.14 (Dining Car), 6.13 (Dining Car), 6.15 (Dining i Car) S H- * \a? 13 30 "'"M Accommodation. 11.15 A. M., 4.52 and 715 p M. weekdays. Sundays, o,13 and 7.15 p v. For Atlantic City. 12.39 and 11.14 a. m., 114 1 ao P M. (10.13 A. M. and 3.14 P. M.. thron-h Vestibule,! Trains. Buffet _ Parlor Cars. PaS sepger Coach and Combined Coach) we>k- avs i and 12.30. 6.34 and 8.12 (through Veetiba'ei Train with Pullman Parlor Dining and Sm ic ing Cars and wide Veetibuled Coaches) A. M. ! ^For* Atlantic City via Delaware River Bridge ‘ Route. 7-44 A. M. and 5.14 P. M. weik-days; C.34 A. M. and 5.14 P. M. Sundays. For Cape May, 12.30 A. M. and 1.13 p h wcck-da::s; 12.30 A. M. Sundays. For Long Branch. Asbury Park, Ccean Grey ■ Point Pleasant, and Intermediate statl—s. via i Rahway, 9.15 A. M., 12.34. 3.52. 4.32 and j 6.23 P. M. On Sunday. 10.00 a. m 6.28 P. M. (Stop at Interlaken for A-bary Park or Ocean Grove on Sunday.) The New York Transfer Company wll' cV! ■ for and check baggage from and to hotels and residence. J. B. HTTCHTNSON. J. R. WOOT). ! G^n’l Manager.GenM Passenger WEST-SHORE ■=RAILROAD= PICTURESQUE LINE OF TRAVEL TO THE NORTH AND WEST. THE NIAGARA FALLS ROUTE. nJntm*3 vIeav« Franklin street (North River) cation. New York, as follows, and fifteen m.nutes later from, foot \V. A2d ati^f m *;■ 1 station at Weeha.vken, N. 'j., can be reached via trains of N. J. J. Rd.. ;eav n« Penn. R. R. depot at Jersey City:— * 3.10 A. M. daily for Haversiraw, West Poin-* 7 10 a"* vr NdSnif‘*h.>.Kingston and Albany. * stations.11' daly’ Albany ana ‘“termadiata A. M. daily, except Sunday for Cranston s. West Point, Kingston. Me J F- ta. .Mol>onk and Hinnewa.ka, Catsxtil Mountains, Albany and Utica. J i mPP MS5Ur^r,y' "r CatsKlli Mountains. 5:22 p; M-i Chicago Express, daily. -2o P. M., Continental Limited, dally *.->• Nine-2y* H5 ’:?• Syracuse. Rochester. Biiffa.n Niagara Falls, Cleveland, Detroit. Ch c and bt. Louis. Arrives Chicago and S' 1,1 c . Kintasmn?rni>0a' DiniDB ® « D- 3;aallyt except Sunday, for Con s- "t3t Point, Cornwall, New aad Intermediate stations to Albany. £.hioa*<>, and St. Louts Limited, daily, for Montreal, East Utica. Syr;-.cuai Rochester. Buffalo, Niagara Falls, Tor n:o. . Detroit. Cleveland, Qhlcugo and St. Lou'. ‘ A? p. M. daily*, except Sunday, for i'r.t Utica, Syracuse. Rochester. Buffalo, Niagara Louf' Uami‘''uh. Toronto, Detroit and St. SiL. P. M. dally, for Albany, Sy-.ucuss, Rochester. Buffalo, Niagara Falls. Hamilton. Toronto, Detroit. Cleveland anti Ch ca-to. “• D—Leaves Rrooklyn Annex —B, + 0:45 A M. ■ D, +3:06 P. M. Jersey City. r. R. p„ station* B. +11:20 A. M.; D, +3:35 P. M. Haversiraw Locals:—+C.45 A. M.: 43-35 *4-3, (W. 42d st. 4:30 P. M.). +5:00 P. M +5 '« LTd*¥id:sostP.5^ P- M)- +6:00 Newburgh Locals:—»8:2fl, *10:00, +12:15 P M . *4:45, *6:35 P. M. (6:45 W. 4*d st.) Kingston Local:—41:oo p. M •DaHy. IlSundavs only. +Except Sunday. Pullman Sleeping Cars for Albarv, lruea. Syracuse, TP-chester, Buffalo, Niagara T'afls Detroit, Cleveland and Chicago on th-ouri trams. Westecott’s Exprers check baggage through 0 destination. For Cab or Carriage? -phone 33® For tickets, time-tables, parlor and sl-en -» tar accommodations or Information annli offices:—Brooklyn. Nos. SSS. 343. 725 Fulton street; Annex Office, foot of Fulron s--net New York City: Nos. 113, 353. 6“1 and mi Broadway: No. 133 West One Hundred and Twenty-flfth street, and at stations. A. H. SMTTH, General Sllpt. C. E. LAMBERT. Gen’I Pass.-i—- a - -• Honn: 2(12. Transit Building, 7 E. Fo-'v-s cnnJ street. New York. J s cona LEKICH VALLEY Trains arilve and depart from P. 1£. K. Station. T Daily except Sunday. Other trains da.iy. Lssva Jency City » A.-nrs Jtrser Clly . „ .Easton Local. jsS... a i.S3 am.. Bait&lo Local. 9.15 a m 9.43 a m Buffalo, Detroit & Cblcaco Ev;». 4.21 ? a tl2.W P M .BLACK DIAMOND KXPBL.>5 +9 r.S.p m l.(S p mMa.icn t buck & Hazleton 1 ocalft0.55 a m t4 22 p m —Wyoming Valley Express_ t*. 0» p m +5 33 pm.Eh*tor. Local. 4.50 p M 6.W p m Chicago & Toronto Vest bule Hxp. 8.13 pm .... THE BUFFALO TRAIN.... M7 a M Tickets and Pullman accommodations a; Peantyl. vanla Railroad Station. Iimrc Wh» Hava Used Tham LHu O Kaeommaad as lha BEST an. unci Star Crown Brand PENNYROYAL PILLS. launadiata relie A no danfer, no nala. u*ed toryaars t*y leading specialist. Handrail efMi, inoniala. Atrial will convince yon of their iiurineic volaQ tnraaatofiuppreeaion. Send ten eenta for aauaple andj kook. All Dniggiau or by mall #1 AO bos. UK8 ME6KINE 08.. B*> 1930, BOSTON, IMSa IN CHANCER! OF N£VV JfiRS£i. To Michael Baumeister and Annie Baumels ter, his wife. By virtue of an order of the Court of Chan, eery of New Jersey, made on the day of the dale hereof, in a cause wherein Dorothea Ber mes is complainant and you and others are defendants, you are required to appear, plead, answer or demur to the bill of said complain ant, on or before the fourteenth day of July next, or that In default whereof such decree be made against you as the Chancellor shall think eoultable and jus The said bill is filed to foreclose a mortsaaa given by Charles Weiss and wife to complain ant, bearing date December 1, 1S97. on land* in the Town of Uaiog. Hudson County, New And you Michael Baumeister are made de fendant because you are the owngr of the land. And you Annie Baumeister are made de fendant because you have an inchoate right of dower in the same, which rights of said de fendants are alleged to be subsequent to tfee lien of complainants mortgage. WARNS SMYTH, Solicitor of Complainant. Weahawktn, p, o.. N f,