T BANNER--EMoCRAT .
VOL. XIV. LAKE PROVIDENCE. EAST CARROLL PARISH, LA., SATURDAY. DECEMBER 28, 1901. NO.
I Outward broad airs, tha sea's unshadowed Outward, where every word and deed
sweep is fit;
And larger voice on shores of lovelier Outward, beyond the lies of name and
Starred heavens of vastcr lisht and night COr sin and ignorance the cause of it,
with seep Liie's prison of fancied flame.
Tender as women's :hands.
Outward! 0 heart, the secret solved at
Outward the grave processional of hours. last!
Each a discovered joy, a so:ved surmise; Love that enfolds, unites and under
Days dark in bud, that, ripening, fall like stands;
flowers Love like the sea, with equal waters cast
Gardened in Paradise. Oa this and alien lands!
Outward! 0 throes resolved in mightier Outward! 0 free at last! 0 steadfast
Splendor of nameless deeds, essential Calm in the poise of natural things! 0
Mlerged in the large acceptance, in the How wise is love!--only, beyond control,
long To pass with open eyes!
Pulse of the cosmic chordas. -'-orme Cabot Lodge, in Scribner's.
THE WOMAN OF SAN NICOLAS ISLAND.E
A Strange Story of the Pacific Coast.
-tIE story of the AIndian woman
left alone on the island of
San Nicolas for nearly twen
ty years has been written by
a number of romanqers who gave but
little heed to fact and free rein to im
agination. From occurrences that
have passed into history and are
known to be authentic, this tale is
The aborigines of San Nicolas Island
were supposed to be of Aztec or Tol
tec origin, a peaceable people like all
tribes indigenous to the tropics.
War with the savage Alaskan In
dians had nearly exterminated the In
dians of San Nicolas when the Cath
olic fathers who founded the missions
on the mainland desired to bring the
few remaining natives across the
channel that they might teach them
the Christian religion. Accordingly,
after repeated efaorts to accomplish
this, a schooner was sent to the island
in 1S36 for this purpose. Some time
was consumed in gathering together
these people and their effects.
As the last boat was leaving the
strand, a woman with a young babe
in her arms sprang on shore. Her lit
tie girl, a child of eight years, had
slipped from her side in the confusion
-gone probably in search of some re
membered trinket dear to her childish
heart-or, perhaps, run away, over
come with terror at the unusual migra
tion of her people.
The woman besought them to await
her return, and hastened over the hill,
calling as she went. The moments
passed-the white man is ever impa
tient, and he grumbled at the delay.
An hour went by, but the woman had
not returned. The wind was rising
rapidly, and a storm was imminent.
The schooner had signalled them twice
In the last half hour. The waters
about the island were shoal, and there
was no safe anchorage along its
shores. The waves were running high
upon the ledges surrounding the little
bay, and their crests were white with
the foam of action. The ship signalled
again, and with a muttered impreca
tion and a gruff command, the beat
pushed off to Join the tossing vessel.
As soon as all were on board, Cap
tain Hubbard weighed anchor and
stood away for deep water. When the
relatives and friends learned that the
woman had been left behind, they be
sought the captain with many tears,
and with pleadings In their own
tongue, to return and bring her away.
The gale increased in fury and con
tinued unabated for the space of a
S week. The heavy-laden schooner la
bored hard and disaster threatened.
When San Pedro Harbor was finally
reached, the San Nicolas Indians were
distributed between Los Angelcs and 1
San Gabriel missions, and Captain
Hubbard departed for Monterey,
where he had orders to take on a car
go of lumber for San Francisco.
On reaching the Golden Gate, in
rough weather, the improperly laden
craft .capsized and was eventually
blown out to sea, and is supposed to
have been taken by a Russian vessel. I
The crew reached shore in safety, and I
It was always Captain Hubbard's in
tention to return to San Nicolas for I
the lost woman. There was now no j
craft of any description except open
boats and Indian canoes from San
Francisco to San Diego, and no one i
could be found willing to risk a voy- i
age to San Nicolas in one of these. I
It was generally known along the e
coast of California that an Indian i
woman and her children had been left I
upon the Island of San Nicolas, but as i
time passed and they were not res- 1
cued, it came to be generally believed t
that all had perished. Fifteen years I
slipped by, and in the spring of 1851 J
Captain Nidever, of Santa Barbara,
with one other white man and a small s
crew of Mission Indians, visited San t
Nicolas in a schooner in search of a
otter. They made a landing at the
eastern end of the island, and walked t
along the southern shore a distance of
five miles or more. Captain Nildever s
discovered footprints of a human being t
soon after landing. These were no i
doubt made when the ground had been a
ooaked by the previous winter rains, f
tor the impressions were deep and o
quite dry and hard. The footprints t
S were small, and the captain felt con- "
:inced that they were made by a li
woman. A short distance from the t
shore were found several circular,"
roofess huts made of brush, about a
six teet in height and the same in di- b
ameter. These enclosures were ful- b
ly a mile apart, and near them were d
stakes of driftwood driven in the o
nd, from which were asuspended h
piecest of seal's blubber out of the
reach of wild animals. The blubber
'was comparatively fresh, and had no
oubt been placed there but a few a
ks previous. t
Captain Nldever had landed apon t
San Nicolas early in the mortning, in
Rending to remain during the day to I
tiearch for seal and otter, but eatr
oo a northwester began blowring,
ad he hastened back to tihe schooner. t
iere they remanlaed at anchor for i
ight days in the leog the Mislad, the b
e being at times so rough and the li
Iiad so fierce that he expected e- a
enterily to be driven from his an- l
borase. When the storm abated ant. I
lelently, Captain Nideter returned to a
to Barbara witheout agai lPaln a
the' l aad I
.as wst are smami 1
n a Nicolas for game, landing near
I the same place as on his previous voy
- 'ge. He and his ship's mate explored
Y the island nearly to its western ex
it tremiity. The blubber found on the
1- previous visit had been replaced by
it a fresh stock. In the crotch of a tree
e near the west end of the island they
ý found a basket containing a garment
made of the skins of the cormorant,
d cut in squares and neatly pieced to
g- ther; with the ends of the feathers
11 all pointing downward. There were
shell hooks, bone needles, a rope of
i- sinew, and various trinkets in the bas
- ket with the robe. These things Cap
tain Nidever scattered upon the
s ground, thinking if they were replaced
e on his next visit to the tree it would
be conclusive evidence that the wom
an was still alive. After several days
spent in securing seal and otter upon
h the ground already explored, another
i wind storm came on, and the spot
e containing the basket was not revisit
rd; as on all previous voyages, the
woman was left to her fate and the
e schooner crossed to San Migual Island
a without her.
In July, 1833, Captain Nidever again
: went to S.n Nicolas, determined to
a rescue the woman if she could be
found. Before, he had gone to find ot
ter and seal; now he had a nobler
Ilie anchored midway of the north
western shore of the island, near Cor
ral Harbor, where the natives had
embarked in 1830. At this point and
at the western extremity of the island
is found an abundance of good water,
seal and fish. Here Captain Nidever
1 made camp, and with his men began
a systematic search. On the second
day a hut was discovered upon the
ridge, and on approaching it, piles of
ashes and bones were seen at its
Within the enclosure sat the object
of their search, talking aloud to her
self, and with a rude knife, manufac
tured from a piece of rusty Iron hoop,
washed up by the waves, she was dili
gently scraping blubber from a piece
She watched the approach of the
men with interest, but made no at
tempt at flight. She was clothed in a
garment of cormorant skins wh!ch
reached nearly to her ankles, and het
throat and arms were bare. Her hair
was yellowed by the sun and tangled,
and her skin, where exposed, was
brown, but where protected by her
robe it was quite fair, showing her
to be of Aztec or Toltec origin. She
received her visitors with the quiet
and dignity of a queen, greeting each
with a bow and a smile. She talked
incessantly, but no word of hers could
be understood, although the Indians of
the rescuing party spoke several dial
ects. In her hut was a fire, and when
the captain and his men were seated,
the woman roasted roots, termed "car
comite" by Californians, which she
served to tlhe company an abalone
One day she took her new comrades
to a deep hidden grotto, where bub
bled a cool spring from whence she
drew her supply of water for cooking.
Here they found several unique water
jars woven by her of the island
grasses, and lined with asphaltum,
which is plentiful on the western
shore. The water jars resembled
wide-mouthed bottles, and would hold
from two to six quarts. It was inter
esting to watch her make baskets
water tight. She would drop into them
bits of asphaltum and hot pebbles,
whirling them deftly as the asphaltum
liquefied. It required skill and pa
tience,, but when they were thorough
ly galvanized with a thin coating the
jars were both light and durable.
A second spring near the above
mentioned grotto she used as a lava
tory, and would frequently visit it, for
she was very cleanly in her habits.
At the expiration of a peonth, when
the schooner was ready to depart, she
was made to understand by signs that
she was to go on board. She evidenced
the pathetic struggle she had waged
with want in the years of solitude by
gathering together every fragment of
food in her possession. In the crevices
of rocks and in other spots secure from
the depredations of the wile dogs
which infested San Nicolas she had
laid up stores of bones and other re
ause in antlelpation of some future
"starvation time.' These she insisted
should be carried with her. Once on
board and the Arebrand she had
brought burned to ashes she clung
closely to the stove, showing that she
often suffered from cold, as well as
Captain Nldever conveyed the In
dian woman to his home in Santat
Barbara, where she lived in his family
until her death. She was sunpposed •
to be about fifty years of age when
She had a doelle, loving nature and I
was of a pecuairly happy disposItion ,
HBow she had retained these qalities
in her years of lonely life is a mys
tery. She became much attached to
her new friends, and they in tran gave
her a most cordial affectionl. She was I
aturally Intelltgent and fall of re
soures, and soon slearned to communal.
ate with thoee about her. She told of a
her sorrow at the death of her oldest a
ehild, who was devoured by wild dogs z
as the day her people were taken a
-roem the Islant b Captain Hubbard.
later, when the mother, driven by hum
ger, was forced to leave is unprotected
t and go forth in search of food,
id Strange to say, this woman had for
mulated an apparently fluent language
of her own, which no one was able to
understand. Three of the mission
at fathers, versed in every Indian dialect
on the California coast, were quite un
able to make themselves understood.
Some of the former inhabitants of 'an
Nicolas were brought from San Gab.
riel and Los Angeles, but they were
st also unable to converse with her or
O interpret her language. But few of
her words have been remembered.
Man she called "noche," the sky, "toyg
wah," a hide, "tocah."
Possibly the Alaskian Indians, who
overran San Nicolas in the early part
of the last century, left upon her mem
ory an indelible impression of their
nomenclature, which superseded her
native tongue in the years when hu
man association was denied. This Is
a question that might be settled from
the meagre vocabulary she has left by
some enthusiastic, painstaking student
r Travelers abroad who visit the Vati
can in Rome, and are permitted to
d view the priceless relics from many
of the lands that have been gathered
e there, will find among the collection a
y basket woven of island grasses, and
e within it a wonderful feather robe
y made of soft breasts of the cormor
.t ant. This garment was fashioned by
the deft fingers of Morenlta, the In
dian woman, when she dwelt alone
s upon the island of San Nicolas.-Los
e Angeles Times.
Whoever has a short memory for
e names and faces will be able to ap
I preciate the experience of a resident
I of Detroit, whose story is told by the
Free Press of that city. The lady's a
friends, who recognize her inability
to fit names and faces together, say
r that she usually makes up in tact
what she lacks in memory. 8
One afternoon recently, says the
lady, who tells her own experience, I
was sitting on the veranda when a
rather nice looking young man, carry
ing a small satchel, came up the walk.
He bowed pleasantly, and I returned
his greeting as cordially as I could.
while racking my brain for his name.
He looked familiar, but I could not
recall his name. Here was an old
friend from out of town, probably-
perhaps a relative of my husband
and I must not fall in cordiality. So
I greeted him warmly, shook hands t
and invited him to be seated. I said I.
was delighted to see him, and knew .
my family would be equally glad. I
regretted that so long a time had a
elapsed since we had last met. I C
hoped his family was quite well, and p
o2 course he had come to dinner.
Thus I rattled on, fearing to let him t
discover what a hypocrite I was, and
hoping all the while that his name b
would come to me. Fiflally he man- b
aged to say: '
"I'm afraid you don't know who I o
"Ob, yes, I do," I responded. "Of P
course, I know perfectly." n
"No, I am sure you don't even know
"Well," I admitted, "your name has P
escaped me for the moment, "but I am tl
so wretched on names! Don't tell me;i
I shall recall it in time."
"Do not try," responded the young
man, pleasantly. "I am only the sew- P
lng machine man. I came to repair
your machine." ec
Against Fooling With a Revolver. a;
There are a few lines in "The Art si
of Revolver-Shooting," a recent book al
by Mr. Walter Winans, theenoted re- si
volver shot of Great Britain, which yi
were specially penned for a small but g'
dangerous class of people. ca
Mr. Winans once left a revolver ly
Ing on a table in his tent at Bisley dur- he
ing a competition. Some visitors ti
dropped in, one by one, to lunch. First oi
came an elderly lady. She sat down
near the table, and her eye immediate- sm
ly fell on the revolver. She snatched ly
It up with a laugh, and pointing It at fi
Mr. Winans, said: th
"I'll shoot you:" a
"Put it down!" said Mr. Winans, to
speaking is peremptorily as a host io
may. The lady obeyed, and Mr. WI
nans explained to her how injudicious
it was to point a revolver at any one,
how it might have been loaded, and
While he was speatinu in came a
clergyman. He sat down and began
talking pleasantly. All at once his eye
caught the revolver. Seizing it and
roaring with laughter, he pointed it at
Mr. Winans, saying: a
"Now I'll shot you!" '
"I locked up that revolver!" Is MS.I
Winan's grim comment And he would
have been glad, we may be sure, to
have made the same disposal, temo
porarily at least, of his silly guests.
Had the jocularity of the lady or the
clergyman resulted fatally, as similar
conduct has often done, the plea at
the coroner's inquest would have been
the old, weak one: "Didn't-know-it h
At the Moment.
It Is not an unusual thing to be able o
to waken oneself at a certain time,
yet the habit may be carried so far as
to be almost mysterious in its delicate e
accuracy. Says the author of "Three
Men on Wheels:" w
There are men who can waken them.
selves at any time, to the minute. They
say to thembelves, as they lay their
heads upon the pillow: "Four-thirty,"
l"tour-forty-five" or "five-fifteen," as
the case may be; and when the time a
comes, they open their eyes. It is very
wonderful, this. The more one dwells
upon it, the greater the mystery
grows. Some ego within us, acting in.
dependently of our conscious self,C
must be capable of counting the hours
while we sleep. Unaided by clock or th
sran, or any other medium known to m
our fivre senses, it keeps watch throughr
the darkness. At the exact moment it
whispers "Time!" and we awake.
The work of an old riverside relow hi
ealled him to be out of bed each morn
Ing balf ah hour before high tide. ev.
or once did he oversleep by half a
miaute. At last he gavpe up wokla3 ,
out the time for himselL. He would ,
sleep a dreamless sleep, and every
morning, at a different hour, this i
ghostly watchman, true as the tide A,
t weold silentmi ti ,im e
etit' a a~te o ip,.
THE BABY CHOIR.
"Now all you tots sit in a row,
'Cause you are big church choir,
And I'll stand here to lead, you know;
And when I wave my stick-just so
Then you must all sing higher."
But Roy sang of a "choo-choo" car,
And Gracie of "nice weather,"
While Rob's and Bessie's "twinkle star"
Went wandering high and low afar
They couldn't keep together.
The little leader's eyes grew wet,
And then a smile o'erran them;
"You see, mamma, they can't do it;
They can't sing songs the leastest bit,
And so they singed an anthem!"
-Detroit Free Press.
HOW THE SWALLOW WAS
It was a warm evening near the close
of summer when papa and Fred went
out for a stroll in the meadow, to watch
Rover, grandpapa's shepherd dog, drive
the cows up the long lane from the pas
ture to be milked. The weather had
been dry and fine for several days, and
all the tiny insects are found in such
numbers in the country were flying near
the ground, where the air was warm
est. The air seemed to be thick with
Circling in and out after the flies, bugs
and midges were hundreds of swallows
whose nests were fastened in long rows
beneath the eaves of grandpapa's barns.
Because the insects were down near the
ground the swallows flew there, too, for
they were out getting their supper. Each
pretty bird had its mouth wide open as
it swept swiftly about. Every second or
two their bills would close with a snap
as they seized and swallowed a mos
quito or a little unsuspecting gnat-still!
keeping on the wing.
Papa and Fred forgot Rover and the
cows as they watched them. The swal
lows flew so close that one's wing!
brushed Fred's ear, and another saved
himself from flying squarely into papa's
I face only by making a quick, upward
"Once when I was a little boy and
lived here in the country," said papa.
"I came out into this same meadow just
at sundown, and what do you think? I
caught a swallow! How do you sup
pose I did it?"
"I don't know," said Fred, greatly in
"Well," said papa, "the swallows were
flying just as they are now, almost
bumping against me. So I took off my
hat and waited,-like this,-and when
one came near-seel -I made a swoop
with my hat,-so,-and-why," said
papa, much astonished. "I've got one
now !" His face showed more aston
ishment than Fred's.
Fred danced about in a circle while
papa gently thrust his other hand into
the hat and took out the poor, trem
ling little bird.
"Have you hurt him, papa?" asked
Fred, his tender heart stirred to sym
pathy at the prisoner's fright.
"No," said papa, looking half-alarm
ed, "I don't think so; and really, my
boy, I didn't mean to catch him. I was
as much surprised as he was, I am
sure. It only happened once before in
al my life. How strange that this one
should fly into my hat as I wa telling
you about the other! Maybe he's the
great-great-grandson of the first one I
He showed Fred the beautiful purple
head and shoulders of the little cap
tive, and each stroked him gently with
Then papa opened his hand. For a
second or two the swallow sat perfect
ly still on the palm, not knowing he was
free. Suddenly he seemed to discover
that no one was holding him, and with
a twitter he darted away and was lost
to sight among his countless compan
ions in the air.--Youth's Companion.
WHEN YORKTOWN WAS BE
On the south side of the River York,
about ten miles from its mouth and
sixty miles southeast of Richmond, lies
the little Virginia village Yorktown.
Situated on a high bluff, it commands
a fine view of the surrounding country
and overlooks Gloucester, a mile across
the York. Any one visiting the quiet
little town to-day, with its few inhabi
tants, finds it hard to realize how very
important a position it has twice held
in the history of the United States. It
has been the scene of two memnorable
sieges-once in the revolution and later
in the evil war.
Here on the 28th of September, 1785,
began a siege which lasted twenty days.
When it ended the American patriots
had won one of the most important vic
tories of the revolutionary war, and
had practically secured independence
On August I Cornwallis and his
army of about 8,ooo men had taken pos
session of Yorktown. They had forti
fied it as best they could. The line of
works completely encircled Yorktown.
Outworks some distance from the towr
were constructed to hinder the approach
of the enemy. A line of batteries ex- 1
tended along the river bank, and an
chored in the York were several fri
gates and smaller vessels. Gloucester, I
too, was fortified.
In the meantime the Americans were
waiting until all their troops should
reach Williamsburg. When all had I
come together they set out with their
allies, the French, for Yorktown. 1
They so far outnumbered the enemy I
that they must have looked very for
midable to the English. It is not sur- I
prising that those in possession of the ]
outworks retreated to the town, where
Cornwallis was stationed with most of
his troops These outworks the Ameri
cans and French took possession of and
began to dig trenches and to throw up a
breastworks. The British resorted to
cannonading, bat nothing of importance
ame of it.
By the 1st of Oetober Cornwallis was I
in a-desperate position. On land the
Amercaln s ha line extenadingl i a
m-.es.ircle about the British ortl~es -
asI muiin al aieb-_-.deduum. *
ing the York River. Now Cornwallis
had hoped much from his position, ex
pecting that Clinton could reach him
from New York by sea. Clinton wait
ed too long, however, and the French
fleet stationed themselves where they
could cut off any aid that might come
by sea to Cornwallis
On October 19, at 2 o'clock, the
British gave up the garrisons at York
and Gloucester, the shipping in the har
bor and all the stores of ammunition.
The surrender must have been an im
pressive sight. Washington sat on a
white horse at the head of the Ameri
can line; Rochambeau. on a bay, head
ed the French. , Hundreds of spectators
from the surrounding country watched
in silence while the British marched be
tween the two lines.
Cornwallis himself was too humiliat
ed to appear. He sent his sword by
General O'Hara. It was received by
General Lincoln of the American troops
and then given back to be returned to
The British captains then surrendered
the colors of the twefty-eight regi
ments; the army laid down its arms.
Then they were led back to their lines
and kept under guard until they be-
gan the mgrch to permanent quart-r., It
Maryland and Virginia.--Chicago Rec
"Oh, dear! I wish I'd no lesson to
e do," sighed Willie. "If I'd lived be
fore William the Conqueror came to the
I throne, I shouldn't have had to go to
d school at all, but would hay: ust played
h and done whatever 1 wanted;" and the
boy threw himself into an easy-chair.
the very picture of disgust.
"I wish you wouldn't talk such rub
bish, but get on with your lessons and
let' me get on with mine; for I shall
never know my geography if you make
such a noise,' said Ethel.
"Geography! I hate it. I wish
Christopher Columbus had never found
America, and then we should have that
h much less to learn about. Th: stupid
man ought to have"
"You're just wasting time with your
p wishing," interrupted his sister. "And
you'll have to learn your history,
whether you like it or not. So, the
sooaer you begin, the better."
"Yes, there you are again! If we'd
only lived before Norman Conquest,
there'd have been no history, warth
talking about, to learn I wish I'd been
born ten thousand years ago or in a '
wild country where boys don't go to
"Very well, then," laughed Ethel,
"you ought to be thankful that you are
living now instead of ten thousand years
hence: for you'd have a hard time of it
then, I'm afraid."
Willie tried to look dignified in spite
of his sister's ridicule, and still went on
airing his grievances; but the practical
Ethel took up her books and went out of
the room. The boy. was still sitting,
disconsolately kicking his heels togeth
er, when he was surprised to hear his
father call him from the inner room.
"Willie," he called, "come here; I
Very reluctantly the boy obeyed, for
he felt ashamed that his father should
have overheard his foolish grumbling.
"Yes, father," answered Willie, en
tering the study.
"Reach me that pictorial history of
the nations of the world. I want to
show you something."
Willie was delighted; he liked noth
ing better than to look at pictures with
his father. t
"What shall I look for first, father?"
"The people of East Anglia, my boy."
Willie turned over several pages un
til he came to the chapter on East Ang
lia; but it did not look at all interest
ing, so he quietly waited until his fa
ther had finished writing and turned
"Give me the book," said Mr. Stew
art. "What I want to show you is a
little further on. Ah! here it is."
It was a picture of a strong, fierce
man holding a struggling boy by one
leg and arm. They were just in front a
of a cottage with a sloping, thatched
roof; and the child's eyes were gazing
up at the roof with a look of great fear, '
while a number of men standing around
were laughing at the lad's struggles. d
"What does it all mean?" asked Wil
lie. "What are they going to do with
the little boy?"
"His father is about to throw him on
the roof of the cottage: if the child
manages to catch hold of the thatch and
prevent himself from falling, then he
will be considered a son worth keeping;
but, if he be so unfortunate as to miss
his hold, fall off, and get hurt, then he
will be considered utterly worthless.
The poor boy will be driven from home
and from the neighborhood, to wander
about in search of food and shelter."
"But why was his father so cruel to
"Oh, boys did not go to school in
those old days; but they had to learn
to bear all kinds of hardships instead." P
Willie colored deeply, but said noth- tl
"Now we will turn to the Kaffirs of C
Africa. You see those poor boys un- tl
dergoing severe beatings?" l
"Yes, it looks dreadfully cruel. Oh, 4
why are those horrid men beating the ti
poor boys like that? Turn the 'maIge
over, father; I can't bear to look at
"Yes, it looks frightfully cruel; and '
yet it is only part of their education. h
They do not go to school in that coun
try: but they undergo a training, never- t
theless. Those beatings are not as a
punishment, but simply to make them
used to bearing pain. Every Kaffir boy "
has to undergo the 'benquera,' as it is
called, which consists of beatings and a
series of very arduous exercises; but
I see you have heard enough for the c
present, so put the book away now. "
"Father," said Willie, gravely, "I
know why you have shown me these
having to learn lessons any more. I'd
rather go to school than to be treated
like the boys in East Anglia or Kair
AN EXPRESSION THAT HUIrt.
"Have I got the 'pleasirng axpres~ia'i
you want?" asked Mr. Grubbins.
"Yes, sir," replied the photographer; r
"I think that will do very wdl."
'Thes hurry up, please. It barts r n
A ift of $z1aoo from Joh, D.), Real
feld ihtm letstbe buildlatg fmA r
Modish little ornaments for bonnet or
carriage hat are found in the news half
dollar buckles. They do not imitate this
well known coin, save in the matters
of general shape or size. The buckles
are quite round, just the size of a half
dollar, ani almost as flat. Cut steel.
sparkling like frost in wintry sunlight
is used for many of these buckles, al
though no doubt those who prefer gill
or jetted buckles can find the desire-l
new shape in other minerals.
ROUGH CLOTH ADORNED WITH
A novel and inexpensive trimming is
the use of plain cloth' harmonizing with
the colored rough cloth composing a
dress. The cloth must be somewhat thin
and light in texture, and then cut in
narrow strips and pleated up, forming
a ruching. Some of the material used
can be fringed, which is even more
effective, and considerably used as an
adornment to both costumes and hats.
WOMAN'S WORK AT MANILA.
Manila can to-day boast of a fine li
brary, largely through the efforts of Mrs.
Charles R. Greenleaf, an American wo
The library has now become a govern
ment one, having recently been taken
under the wing of the Insular Govern
ment, with bright prospects for the early
erection of a building for its use. Books
are still pouring into Manila en every
transport, and it is believed that, in a
short time, the work so humbly begun
by Mrs. Greenleaf and, other army wo
men stationed at Manila will branch
out into the other larger towns of the
Philippine Islands, for the edification of
the soldiers stationed in the archipelago
The work of establishing this library re..
quired nearly all of Mrs. Greenleaff;
time, and she nobly sacrificed her social
pleasures and duties in her zealous de
sire to see it accomplished.
EDUCATION OF GIRLS.
The education of girls is a subject'
which has engaged the attention of think
ing men and women for some years. In
The American Mother, Elizabeth Robin
son Scovil pleads strongly for the edu
cation of girls in all matters which per
tain to the welfare of home. Not only
should they know how to perform vari
ous duties, but they should understand
why the different methods are pursued.
She mentions that the science of nutri
tion is as fascinating a study as can be
found, and more necessary and practical
than many of those pursued in our col
FASHIONS FOR GROWING GIRLS
With the figure of the girl still in
embryo it is wise to avoid any very
decided outline. That is a very general
ly accepted fact. But, unfortunately, in
conscientiously endeavoring to live up to
this law the other extreme is touched.
and the creation presented is apt to be
a muddle, with no beginning, end or
middle-a thing usually running to a
superfluity of bows, tucks and ends,
unnecessary puflings, rufflings and floun
cings and a generally pervading sense of
indecision everywhere. Once the an
chorage of simplicity is lost, shipwreck is
inevitable. A mind modistically disposed
cannot for a moment allow itself to
wander rudderless. It must, to begin
with, thoroughly understand the value
of the material, a material that in itself
is somewhat of a decorative kind ,to
gether with the merits of a lace that is
at once ornamental, light and unextrava
gant in effect, while the completing note
of a sash with long, floating ends sel
dom fails to impart an air of youthful
ness. And sashes, be it said without de
lay, are much in evidence again.
For some years now has that soft
white China silk proved itself of ines
timable service to the young girl. But
to-day, being within the grasp of the
large majority, she who is minded to be
exclusive has perforce to turn else
where. She will adopt the loveliest
silk mousselines, soft satins and con
vincing crepes, together with solf silks
other than the ubiquitous China quality.
RUSSIA MAY BE RULED BY A
Russia's next ruler may be a woman.
The Salic law, that jronbound enact
ment put in force in Russia by the Em
peror Nicholas, may be overturned, and
the law of primogeniture be readopted.
,This will please the Grand Duchess
Ol(ga on the throne as autocrat of all
the Russias, at the death of her father,
the present Czar. It is the Czar's wish
that this shoall be, and that his daugh
ter, rather than his brother, the Grand
Duke Michael, shall succeed him.
Since the birth of the latest Russian
princess, journals spoken of as "oflicial"
in various large cities of the empire
have urged the Czar to return to the
ancient practice of awarding the throne
throne to the eldest born, irrespective of
Mdichael, according to his intimates, is
not overanxious to inherit the prodig
i,us empire Russia has now become, and
will be, when the Trans-Siberian Rail.
way makes more than half of Asia part
of the Czar's domains. He would not at
all object if his brother, the Czar, should
change the present family compact, and
make his eldest daughter, the Grand
Duchess Olga, eligible to succeed her
THE POPULARITY OF PEARLS.
The wearing of jewelry, particularly
bracelets, has been marked this season.
An improvement in taste in this matter
is to be observed, for the designs of even
the cheaper qualities are artistic. The
revival in popularity of pearls is largely
due to English court mourning, these
stones being among those which are con
sidered correct foe wear by the 'aristo
crats who are governed by royal eti
qett. The fact hat Queen Alean
d is tmul of she gems hs also partly
pi.rdm il ch. Inddamshl la h
them. It is a striking fact that pearls
are or have, been the favored stones of
:he most beautiful sad perhaps the most
unhappy royal women of Europe. The,
Dowager Empress of Russia, sister of
the English queen; the present Empress
of Russia, Queen Margherita of Itay
and the unhappy Elizabeth of Austria
have been pearl lovers.-Washington
WAGES FOR WIVES.
It is urged by Mrs. Fenwick Miller, in
the Temple Magazine, that wives ought
to be paid regular wages for the services
which they render in superintending
their husbands' houses. We doubt, com
ments the London Graphic, whether the
suggestion, plausible as it appears upon
the surface, will commend itself to la
dies who think it over at their leisure.
In strict logic the arrangement which
Mrs. Fenwick Miller proposes would be
incomplete unless it gave the husband,
in his new character of employer of la
bor, the right to dismiss his wife for
incompetenc or disobedience, to limit her
evenings out, and to fine her (subject
to the provisions of a new Factories
Act) when she kept him waiting for his
dinner. Moreover, even if this difficulty
could be gotten over, one fails to see
on what principle the amount of stipend
could be fixes. The "higgling of the
market" would certainly produce curi
ous results, as we easily tealize if we
picture a mature spinster trying to bar
gain with her suitor for better terms on
the strength of her age and experience.
The conclusion of the whole matter is
that wives are better off as their hus
bands' partners than they could ever
hope to be as their salaried servants.
THE SLAVE AND THE MISTRESS
An authority on dress has the follow
ing profound things to say which are
certainly seasonable and more or less
"A meagre allowance never yet whol
ly hid the longings of a pretty taste, nor
the most liberal conferred all its bless
ings. We express ourselves by our
clothes, each in her own way. They are
the 'outward and visible sign' of our in
ner selves. The girl with a meagre al
lowance may say: 'I love beautiful I
laces and fine furs, but I can't have them I
-they are too costly,' but her tastes
will out, nevertheless. If she happen
to possess some dainty thing-a collar
of rare old lace, for example-how she
will treasure it, how she will respect and
love it, and how often the same dainty
thing will redeem her blouse or coat a
from the commonplace.
"Some of us respect our clothes, some
of us love them; others worship them
let their passion lead them into modish
intemperance, even crime. Some of us,
on the other hand, control our clothes,
make them do. our bidding and minister
to our success. I have known women
coquet with their clothes-play with
them all the morning in and out the y
dressmakers and shops, and parade them
all the afternoon. I have known others
who sacrifice themselves to their clothes
feel so keenly a subslety of line or shade i
that all sense of fitness is submerged,
and sometimes even those qualities that
should never be absent from a woman's
clothes--the sense of daintiness and
freshness. One has known others, again,
whose love of the fresh and cleanly as
pect killed all sense of subtlety and grace
and who, though fully mastering the
severities of a sporting costume or a
tailor-made, utterly failed to exploit a
muslin or a crepe de chine. The few!
it is that master both, and I am inclined 4
to think, artists though the Parisians
may be, that it is in our own land these
few are to be found. It remains to be
seen whether the Parisienne will not
yet wrest the palm from us in this quar
ter. I hope not.
"I am persuaded that the better way
is to respect one's clothes, to fully con
cede them their importance in the
!cheme of things. To be an impassioned
slave to them shows little heart and no
mind. The woman who holds the vaiue
of dress lightly declares herself wanting
in common sense. To underrate the
value of appearance is to take a warped
view of life. 'The outside of the cup
and platter' is of importance as well as
"On the other hand, she who regards
clothes as the aim and end of life is
warped in her views, and rarely as big
a success as her-devotions would deserve
because by overmuch fussing she loses.
focus and breadth. The too-incessant
student, the too-devoted worrying wife,
and the too-inveterate shopper rarely,
f ever, get the proportion of reward
hey merit. Dress should be respected
and valued as an important element in
ife, but not be regarded as an end and
aim of existence.
"I do not admire the assertively
modish woman-the one who is ever
athirst for the latest idea. She makes
herse!f more or less a clothespeg for the
exploit)ng of the dressmakers' noveltiesa
and loses her own individuality. One
may even be too assertively simple-be
obviously training after a desired effect
oward it."-New York Commercial Ad
Russian blouses of fur are promised
xtended vogue this winter.
For tall, slender girls the largle ro
ette, with long ends, is an especially
ecoming dress accessory.
An effort made last winter to intro
luce the Raglan shoulder in shirt waists
s being repeated by some makers, but
he mode is not becoming andi there is
ittle chance of its winning favor.
Flannel waists have undergone more
hange in, or addition to, the designs
and colors shown than in style. Many
,f the heavier sort in plain colors are
made with yokes, but for the most part
they are quite plain, or show thked
Glace silk skirts ,are now made with
hree shaped and corded kounces ex
ending up the entire skirt.
One cannot go far astray in using any.
hing in the way of lace this year, and
silk laces come in all colors to matck
With a white gown one can have two
or three colpreda slips, and with difere"
olored stocksd and belt it gives eme sev
eral changesr making the uee dress ap
pear like two or three dieret emes.
Jackets showlug saMe as w as el
chills anrs with ba.s.. cou abelyu *
below the waist are mien Jo sher
the lmg ea sts .4 ussr snlmMe B
S Statet Gi-it' nil e i.: ialla. N
Governor-W. W. . I ard,
Lieutenant. overnur-Albert Eat.
r eeretary of State---Jobh Michel.
u duperintendent o Etducation---Joh1
I V. Ca.hoan.
Auditor-W. S. F'razee.
Treasurer- -I.e(dIx ER'. SHmth.
U. S. SENATORI.
Don Caffrney anw S D. McEuery.
1 Di' ri,,t-Jt (. D)vey.
2 Distr o.-Anhe ph .\ever.
8 Disrri. "-R !.. .rn.uarc.
4 Distriet--' Hra:;. alt.
5 Diserse - F. aw.el,.
6 Distrc'--S 1J I llb.can.
New Otrleans, k.
r. ,Nhle promlsee made,
OWr G1d sad et oe Md
SDiplomas o*., awardA
, 7 Americ b a and Uaropeas
Coarse taelsdeas zpert Ao
emasug and Auditng, and
a Ouaranteed Hiher sad
speror te any uoer in thb
beIth. We own our college
baildtl d Lve soequalled
f wlUle and am unexoelled
uaes hol poltiona all over the
!hta7. Iurats ail persoral.
H s rameroe busnoes conneetlons and
-ein sZilarsu l sad reputably known, we
seser tatl eM. s aiding adts to
aA sete S emeesied with Sould College
-- whbbe stateMsl do actual busineas with
9eal goodeand actal mosey, and they keep
the oou In thre latest labor savigK onnrme.
Stdesa eater at any atme. k.ngllsh, Ace
demle. Shorthan4 and Businese setools. All
epagrte faculties. Se~n for catalogue.
&Aduu60 O=0. BOULU * 8:'WS.
Unsurpassed : Oally : Serles
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