Critic !*.»».
to hrvr the doors ami close the shut
* tors to,
taut think that wo are cr.Te frou
prying eyes;
fTfcm through a crack we peep tc
criticise
U are displeased by what our
•cighbors do;
tart k*. men smile and whisper as
Aloy pass,
Ts tfcin-k we do not know our house
is glass!
—Btoto* Talbot Porter In Ll.pplncott's.
*^5*tJ?5E52SESESE5?SESHS ^SE5Z5rH52SE‘’
FOLLOWING !
i “OLD SIDE'i
S *T ROB h. nCNDRICE jvl
SpHaHsasESESEsasESESESEsasEsasii
With a heavy shawl drawn about.
Am shooklers, Farmer Younglove sat
tataled beside the dining-room stove,
puspu/s from an at tuck of his oid
mmmy, quinsy. Mrs. Younglove bur- .
AW ta from the kitchen with a poul* j
*en tor his throat. Then Lucy and 1
IStarr* entered.
“fes children will have to take
tae hogs to Blak .dee’s,” he said.
tataHy. “1 got cold Butchering, as
1 ntasoRt always do. The carcasses
■nr ta the pung. You put on the
tkfHs and harness up old Side; the
<Mtts are too skittteh for the station.
Htakrslce knows the price. All you
tar** got to do is to see to the
■Ashing. Lucy, take the money, and
tarry right, back home, for I can't
ta any chores today."
to gfteen minutes the girl and boy
raw* ready to start.
The horse, ‘'Old Side,”—whoso full
■atac was Side*tep-to-thc-Righl,—was
Marked to the heavy sleigh, in which
**rv the carcasses of six hogs, killed
■d drcRscd the day before.
tar was fifteen, George only ton
pears old, and this was their first i
taportruit business trip from t.h“
tana. so. despite their father's ill
M, they felt pleased at the respon
*Jh« snow path was In fair condl
Hmi tor their ten-mile journey, al
though the road was little travelled
tor the first half of that distance.
OW Side was a perfectly safe horse,
tort hy do means speedy.
He had earned his singular name
■wrayr, to a peculiarity he had ac
■*«ire-3 when a colt. The moment
he stopped. when In harness, he Ir
wsriably threw' his hind quarters far
to the right and stamped heavily, a
Wanting mam>euver to strangers, al
though it no longer -more than faint
3r «B*ts<d the family. A wide band
wrei hair was worn ofT by his
right leg and flank where he had i
wtotoyl against ttug, pole or thill In
this manner.
A wile from home. In a place where
a hollow made' the snow deep and !
■hSS7. Side pulled off his near hind
tone, which George got out and re
gwered. Thoreaftcr he limpid where
the path was hardest, and went even
were slowly than before.
When the Corners was reached,
iSeorgr complained of -being so cold
ttort Ipcy turned Into the church
yard. fastened the horse beneath the
toad, and after carefully blanketing
tom. followed her brother into Rog
*i*» otore. The glowing stove proved
iwd a source of comfort that twen
ty minutes passid before the boy
«»*M be Induced to leave.
ripon walking back to the shed, the
**• found It empty'! They stared a!
«wh other in amazement. Side never
iwfled at his hitehing-strap; more
over, it was not broken, but had been
an tied from the ring.
The mow showed where the horse
been becked out. and there were
toapv boot-tracks just under the
omveo. Then the sleigh had gone
KWKtward, on the road to the sta
Ttan
• latr.y ran across to the blacksmith j
Ac-p. “O Mr. Walden,'’ she cried.
I home, after lie had seen his sb-t
t- 1 leave. It was near noon of tl
I short winter day, and the roads wei
n j becoming softened by the sun. Lut
J had no difficulty In tracking tl
J j horse for a couple of miles, the t>a;
' hoof showing plainly every fe
r j yards. Then came a stretch of hill
; country, with a frozen path. One
s | she saw where the sleigh had turne
I out, and the two drivers had pause
’ > a moment to exchange greetings, fc
I there the horse had "sidestepped.
■ She had uiet no one; doubtless th
approaching rig had entered a wa;
side farmyard.
At the forks beyond the hill th
pung had turned to the right. Thu
; was toward Morton—or to the sout!
and out of the county. She wn
; now on the turnpike, and t
| was very difficult to note an
one track. She stopped ai
! old woman in a Portland cutter. I
| was not easy to make herself under
| stood, for the woman was very deaf
but Lucy learned that she had me
| a pting with a limping horse twe
i miles ahead.
Then the wayfarer “caught a ride."
with a farmer, who, being informed
of her errand, drove briskly til! they
struck the turn Ju-t outside of Mor
J ton village, hoping to overtake the
man. No one was seen, and a care
ful search at the corner failed to
reveal any telltale tracks.
The farmer lingered with her till
two teams arrived, one from the
county scat, the other from the south.
Neither driver had met a red pung
attached to a lame sorrel horse.
“He's turned off between here and
where the old lady met him.’’ said
Lucy. "Thank you, sir; I'm going
back.” Her newly-made friend hesi
tated. but finally drove on toward
the village, and Lucy declined a ride
with one of the other men who was
going her way.
The tirst cross-road showed noth
ing, as did the next. It whs nearing
sundown, and the girl was both tired
and hungry, but she went doggedly
ahead.
Then she came to a mere farm lane
that led to an isolated barn across a
meadow. The path was worn chief
ly by cattle-tracks, but runners had
passed that way. a double sleigh hav
ing been driven out very recently.
A gate stood at some distance from
the road, but It was closed. 1-ucy
glanced at It, turned away, then turn
ed back and, with a sudden Im
pulse. walked up to the gate. On
the right were deep tracks beside
the path. A horse with one bare
hoof had “sidestepped" and stamped
the snow there!
The girl gliiuoed at the lonely barn
and hesitated. No one was in sight
In the road or in the fields; but she
paused only a moment, and then,
forgetting her weariness, fairly ran j
toward the building. It was a com
bination barn, painted rod, and made
to hold both stock and grain. The
double doors were unlocked.
Thrusting them open, she saw tin
puns on the gangway oflor. Old Side,
still harnessed, was munching hay j
from a mow. But the sleigh was
empty!
She hurried through to the stables, j
Three stalls were unoccupied; in a
fourth was a handsome young horse. ;
Apparently there was no one in the
building, although the yard was full
of cattle, clustered about a straw
stack.
A foot-path led down to a house
below the hill on the main road. With
her Younglove blood thoroughly !
aroused, I,uoy rushed along this path
to rout out the robber. She knocked ,
at the side door, which was opened
by a smiling young man.
"Is that your barn up there?” she
demanded.
"It is," he replied, looking curious
ly at her flushed face.
“Well, our horse and pung are in
side, but the pork is gone. Where is
It?”
"What!” he exclaimed. staring
blankly at her.
Lacy repeated her statement.
“Please come in,” he said, polite j
ly. "I don't understand you. but
you don't act quite crazy. Come here, |
Jennie!” he called to his wife. “Three j
heads are better than two in a mis- ,
understanding.”
tPh/w l.-mnntr fnrmot* A/ifl t \ T! II Oil CTIlil
Ing for a minute, but before Lucy
bad finished her story he had become ;
very grave.
“Oet her a lunch, Jennie.” he 8ml- !
denly exclaimed. "She's half-starved, ;
1 know.” Then he ran to the barn, i
and It was with difficulty that Lucy i
was kept from following him.
In a very few minutes he was bad;
and at the telephone, calling up the
produce-dealers and butchers of Mor
ton. He learned nothing there. "Tim
old team’s gone, and so are the bobs,"
he said to his wife. Turning to Lucy
he asked:
"Did your father ever employ a
fellow named Lem Decker?”
“Yes, last summer; but father said
he was good for nothing.”
“Your father Is an excellent judge.”
the young man remarked, grimly.
“Did you ever hear of a Frank Min
er?”
"Why, yes. Lem said he had work
ed for him, off and on."
“Exactly. Well, I'm Miner, and our
friend Lem has got your pork and
my team. He took the team when
j your horse gave out. And he's gone
' to Bolton, to sell the pork, I'm pretty
sure. Now eat your lunch, and get
ready to go with me."
Lucy was so nearly famished that
she had barely finished her meal
when a cutter drove up to the door.
Darkness w»« coming on, us they
dashed off u,p the road, and went
hurrying westward over a country
wholly new to her. The young horse
1 needed no urging, and its driver made
no effort to check its headlong flight
“What makes you so sure it was
Decker?” Lucy asked.
oecause he left his old mittens
t in the barn, and took my new driv
ing gloves. 1 knew he was a worth
. less vagabond, but this is a greatoi
i crime than I supposed him to lx
capable of. 5 turned him off a weel
t ago; and I suppose he saw you
• sleigh, recognised it, and thought h<
. could get the money for the porl
B and escape before being followed."
An hour passed, and the swif
r young horse never slackened Its pace
sr With seeming tirelessness, the an
0 mal mounted a long hill, and th
■e lights of a village gleamed far a heat
A sleigh could be seen against th
e whiteruss of a field at the foot o
e the slope.
y “TTmu’e Holton," said Mr. Mine;
y "and I think thore'B oar man."
e Down the hill and across the fla
[1 they shot like an arrow, rapidly ap
'1 proaeiiing the sleigh. When withii
r hailing distance, Mr. Miner shouted
"Wait a minute, Lem!"
8 The man addressed dropped th
• lines, sprang out and ran through ar
orchard at one side of the road. Hif
pursuer made no attempt to follow
1 him, but Instead called soothingly tc
1 tho team, till the horses recognised
' bis voice and slowed to a walk, when
he hurried to their heads and stop
; pod them.
Th y were within a half-mile o!
Bolton and over thirty miles from
Lucy's home. They slowly went on
lo tiio village, the girl well plea oil
at driving such a spirited, although
gentle horse; Miner was in charge
! of ttie team ahead.
At Bolton they .stopped long enough
to cell up Mr. Rogers at. the Corner ,
j Lucy learned that her mother had
; been fh re, but had gone home, leav
j lap. a neighbor's son to wait for news,
should anything be heard before the
store was closed. The girl explained
that she would go back to Mr. Min
er's lion e, and would return home,
after dl; posing of the i>ork, on the
following aay.
It was past midnight when she
reached a warm bed. feeling so cold
and exhausted that It seemed to her
she would never be comfortable
again. But by morning she 'had al
most feu gotten her fatigue.
Old Side was r!eo refreshed, and
she so humored his pace that he
reached Mr. Walden’s blacksmith
shop at the Corners in fair condition,
after leaving the pork at Mr. Blake
slee’s.
Once shod, he went blithely home
ward. pausing only to “sidestep" at
the two intervening bilk-'. Lucy found
her father much better; his worry
had apparently conquered the quinsy,
by causing him to forget it. Of course
the daughter came in for warm
praise, although she was gently chid
ed for her recklessness in setting
off alone to hunt down a thief.
As rnr DecKcr, ne nan neu
that swtion of the country, and was
never heard from again.
ON WHICH SIDE?
Wants to Know Where to Place Him- 1
self When He Walks With a Lady. ;
“•Can anybody tell me for sure.’ j
said this young man. “on which side |
of the lady I should place myself t
when we walk In the public streets?' j
"I have a very clear notion about j
this myself. I say that the gentle
man should walk at the lady’s left j
hand, she at his right, for this rea- ;
son:
“It is the •custom in this conn
try for people meeting to turn to j
the right. Now. in doing this, a man i
with a woman on his right arm would
present himself as a shield against
crowding or Intrusion from anybody
passing from the opposite direction;
If (here was a collision or crowding
cm the passing side the man would
he there to take the shock, and the
woman would be held always safely
away from it, or even from the
ruffling of her apparel.
“But people tell me I'm foolish, j
They say the man ought always to ,
walk on the side of the woman to
ward the curt), no matter on which j
side of her that brings him. whether
an the right or the left. The dan
ce-. thev sav. Is on the curb side,
where the traffic is. the horses and
trucks -nd wagons and carriages and 1
automobiles, and the mud spatters. 1
“I think the Idea Is wrong, and !
then the man’s keeping always on j
the curb side Involves more or less j
changing See what happens when
they c-oss the street nnd walk on
the other side. Then the man has
to run around hor, doesn't he? |
Change position then to get on the:
out-ide; and what Is more ridiculous ;
than to see n .man prancing around 1
a lady to ohRnge from one side to
the other to get next the curb?
“No, sir; 1 don't see the curl) theory
ft all. Mv idea Is that the man ;
should walk with the lady at his j
r!«rht side always, that in this way
he 'an be her best protection and
defender. Put T would really like to |
have somebody tell me which Is :
right for sure."—New York Sun.
RUSSIA'S ANTI-KISSING LAW.
Cost an Actress Who Kissed He
Mother in a Street Car $7.
Russia Is ruled by rigorous laws.
The tronv and humor of some of
eccno home to the foreign on
looker. while of crur-e the Rus
sians feel only the whip hand. The
latent victim of an anti-kissing in
nubile law Is a famous and all too
im net nous Russian .-ictr-ss. Mile. Tre
noff. who actually had the temerity
to k'ss her mother in a tramcar.
One would have thought even a
magistrate or Judge or whoever ad
ministers cases of iswbreaking of
that kind in Russia, would be melt
ed by the beautiful picture of the
reunion of a mother and daughter
celebrated by a chaste salute, but
c’nsslans understard no Jokes, says
"he Lady’s Pictorial; the fine of
ten rubles (2S«. 6d.l for a kiss in
nubile conveyances, such as railways
' and tramears was vigorously enforc
ed.
i \ kiss in the street Is penalized to
the extent of seven rubles (12s. IOd.1
and a declaration of love sent bv
postcard, if anybody is brazen faced
enough to do such a thing, is punlah
, ed to the extent of live rubles (14e.
21.1. One would like to know If in«ult
is heaped on injury and the fair re
cipient mulcted in damages if the
declaration is sent without any ad
dress to Identify the sender.
Women are barred from the Island
j of Ferdinand do Norcuha. belonging
, to Rrazil. It Is reserved for. convicts
[ On pasture lands in Alaska gram
i . grows six feet. high.
« . , --- ■■■--■—■ ■ i .ii —
t j The French Kongo has a pifaoi
; rtosn' servioo
^mmmmmm■■■
I ABraveAmerioanl
l Woman. - I
■ £ - $
t | How Mrs. Stevenson Up- 4
| held Her Opinions %
% Against Those of the !:
$ Queen's Uncle.
* *
There begins in the January “Cen
I tur.v" publication of some delightful
ly 'written letters by Mrs. Sufis
Coles Stevenson, wife of the Ameri
can minister in London, 1S36-41. The
letters have been urrangt i bj Wil
liam L. Royall, who says in his in
troduction :
In the year 1830 President Andrew
Jackson appointed Andrew Stevenson,
n distinguished Virginian, as American
minister to England, and this pojt
ha occupied until 1844. Mr. Steven
son had been speaker of the House
of Delegates of Virginia, member of
Congress from that State, and for
several terms speaker or the Unite 1
States House of Representatives. Ho
married for his second wife Miss
SalLie Coles, of Green Mountain, Al
bemarle County, Virginia, who was
a member of one of the’ oldest ami
most prominent Virginia families
* * *
The position and personal attrac
tions of (he minister and his wifp
soon gained them admission to the
most exclusive English society in
town and country, and Mrs. Steven
son's letters present an interesting
and attractive picture of English
homes and the inner life of the aria
tocraey. She was deeply religious,
and a tone of devout piety runs
through her letters. The following,
taken from one of them written in
October, 1,839, from the country
house of Lord Durham, describes a
Sunday evening:
“A large party to dinner. After
the gentlemen joined us, when the
Duke of Sussex. Lady Durham and
myself were sitting together and
forming a social t.rio, Lord Durham
came in with his imperial air and
said. 'T do not know whether i'our i
royal highness objects to cards on
Sunday evening; for myself I think
there is no greater harm in playing
on that night than any other.’ ‘Nor
I.' said the duke. 'If it is wrong to
play on Sunday, it is equally wrong
to play on Monday or any other
night.' I felt distressed. Thinks 1
to myself. 'What shall I do?' At
that moment the duke, appealed io
Lady Durham, who gave a faint as
sent to what he had said. I, of
course, was silent when his royal
highness, suddenly h-aning forward
from the immense arm-chair in which
he was half buried, addressed me;
I think, my dear madam, it is con
sidered a sin to play any game on
Sunday in your country.’ I replied
instantly In a calm, earnest and em
phatic manner, so that, although a
little deaf, he did not lose a word:
‘Your royal highness is right. We
think it a violation of that command
ment which bids us to keep holy the
Sabbath day, and we also think It is,
setting a bad example to our de
pendents, who cannot so well discern
between right and wrong.’ The old
gentleman drew himself back in his
chair and remained silent for sev
eral minutes. A solemn pause en
sued, and I felt almost frightened
at what I had done. Still, I did not
regret it. In the meantime the ser
vants had set out the tables, but no
one approached them, nor was the
slightest allusion made to the sub
ject again. The duke did not retire
until his usual hour, and continued
in pleasant conversation all the even
ing, every now and then speaking
with his usual kindness to me; and
when he rose to retire he called out
for me, saying, ‘Where is Mrs. Stev
enson?' and when I advanced from a
table where I had been looking at
some drawings of I^ady Mary’s, he
shook my hand with even more than
usual cordiality as he uttered his
‘Good-night.’ 1 was glad not to have
offended him. for he has been very
kind to us; still, I felt very grateful
at the- moment to do and say what
I ought, despite the fear of man.”
It requirt'd moral courage as well
as piety to play Mrs. Stevenson's
part In this scene. The Duke of S >3
sex was the queen’s uncle, and wc
all know what deference Is paid tc
such rank In England, and Lord Dur
ham was a commanding figure ai
that time In England.
AN ALCOHOL SCHOOL.
To Teach Farmer® How to Make the
Denatured Article.
The Government has now opened
Its alcohol school In the city o
Washington for the Instruction of the
people of the United States In propel
methods of making and using the
denatured product.
For this purpose a model still hai
been erected close by the Departmen
of Agriculture which Is big enougl
to work up twenty-five bushels o
:-orn a day, converting that quantit;
i of grain Into seventy-five gallons o
' 95 per cent, alcohol—that Is to say
; 95 per cent. pure. The plant repre
| sents the smallest outfit that can bi
conducted profitably on a commercla
! scale.
The farmers cannot very well se
' It for themselves, so arrangement
S have been made by which they ma
! learn about it. Agricultural expert
from the experiment station® in ever
j one of the States are to go to Waal
ington, says Suburban Life, examtn
the alcohol making outfit, see how 1
works and listen to a course of le<
tures explaining its management. 1
will be their business when they g
home to teach the farmers how t
put up and how to operate plants c
this character.
Inasmuch as such a plant could nr
be erected for less than $2,500 It I
obvious that the ordinary farinc
would riot be able to afford to coi
t struct one of the kind. But—an
■ here Is the point—* group of farn
«rs. representing a arnall netghbo
i hood might easily do so.
, Then they would bring their oon
stalks and other such refuse to the
j "min” and rereive in return the al
i ochol. It. Is a simple method which
i farmers have long been accustomed
to adopt where flour and other nec
essaries were concerned.
The farmers are eager to find a
cheap source of energy. Nowadays
multitudes of them use gasolene for
such purposes as grinning feed, cut
ting fodder mid running the corn
shelier, circular saw, horse clipper
and grindstone.
A farm in these times is more or
, less of a factory. By gasolene is
| expensive. Alcohol is comparative
! ly cheap and when manufactured
from the farmer's own vegetable re
fusp it woul<l cost next to nothing.
| In France there are 27.AOO farmer
I distillers who make alcohol for in
| dustrial purposes from molasses and
j sugar beets. It is high time that
I this idea was turned to profitable ac
j ''mint, in the United States. Rotten
apples, frost bitten potatoes, stale
i watermelons, cornstalks and cobs
i and every other kind of vegetable
refuse are- available for this purpose.
secretaries to the brain.
Centres Which, Once Taught, Attend
Always to Same Details.
Habit is the acquirement of a ma
chine-like or automatic power of per
; forming certain duties. Actions which
we have at first to exercise our in
tellectual centres to be able to per
form are ultimately discharged with
out any reference to our mind or
consciousness.
Indeed when the intellect comes to
interfere with the automatic per
formance of such acts, says the Ixm
don Illustrated News, they are apt
to be less perfectly executed than
when the machinelike activity of brain
is permitted to nave its sway. Taike
tne case of reading, writing and spell
ing; at first we have to acquire these
gifts through the exercise of close
intellectual attention; later on they
are automatically performed.
We do not after the childish stage
of education require to bethink our
selves over the shape of letters, the
sound of syllables or the fomiatlsn
of words by act of the pen. Clearly
what wa* at first an intellectual act
has become purely mechanical.
| Also in exercising the other “R”
I and in doing a sum we arrive at a
• correct solution without having to
I think out the rationale of the opera
I tlon, as we did when taught arith
■ metic at school. The saving to the
Intellectual centres which deal with
questions and affairs of every moment
must be enormous in consequence of
this division of labor. The centres In
; question are left free to exercise judg
ment and to engage in the highest
| operations of our conscious life.
In the brain structure we actually
find centres which discharge these
automatic duties and play t.he part
! of private secretaries to the head
of the mental firm. Even when we
come to higher brain operations a
like principle prevails.
Centres are set ajart for govern
ing muscles, others receive messages
| from organs of sense, and others
again, sitting In the judgment seat
report upon Information received.
1 .. .
ODD HAIR DRESSING STYLES.
Coiffure That at a Distance Looked
Like the Rising Sun.
"One of the most interesting things
that came under my observation was
the odd manner in which the people
■ wore their hair," said I)r. Harry Dor
sey, describing a recent vslt to New
; Guinea and the leading traits and
characteristics of the inhabitants,
known as Papuans. "One type wore
the hair standing up from the head
at a length of seven inches or more.
| It was trimmed with wonderful regu
larity and with mathematical accur
acy. The hair was greased with
| cocoanut oil and painted red. At a
| distance it looked like a rising sun.
Another type of the inhabitants
who wear their hair in an unusual
fashion was described by Dr. IJorsey.
! "Starting from the forehead," he
i said, “the hair is brushed back over
the scalp and hangs down to the
! waist. It is a perfect mass—an in
i trioate jungle. I am sure it was never
combed and it was impossible to run
the fingers through ft.. At a distance
it looks like a cap with the visor
turned downward.
"One other odd type of hair dress
ing—coiffure, If you will—was ob
served on this visit. The hair was
gathered at. the front and baok, then
brought together above the head,
where It was enclosed in a basket-like
cylinder. The end spread out about
two inches. Apparently these cai»s
; are never removed from the head."—
! Baltimore Sun.
PARIS MYTHS EXPLODED.
An American Elbowed Into Gutter B>
' j “Politest People on Earth."
Tradition declares the French to he
the most polite people In the world,
i They're not, writes Samuel Hopkins
Adams In Collier's. Individually the
Frenchman may be courteous. Collec
tively he lacks the essential element
, : of courtesy, regard for the feelings
• I of others.
Charming In private, in publlo he
r ' is an individualist to the verge of
t savagery. In the theatre he Is a
. nuisance, on the street he is a boer,
» travelling he is—there is no other
; word adequate to the occasion—a
hog. You discover this on the occa
» slon of your first promenade In
, Paris.
r My first day on the boulevards of
3 j ParlH was spent mainly in the gut
/ ter, my second In apologizing to peo
. pie who were urging me thither. My
» third I devoted to dVng some but
t ting myself.. My fourth, fifth and
!- sixth I nursed lame shoulders,
t Now I have a hardened spot In
a my soul and two more on the front
0 of my ooliarbone, and I can look
f straight into the eyes of an elderly
French lady with long gray whiskers
t and convince her tha» she doesn’t
s want more than two-thirds of the
r slderwalk, and if she does want It she
i- doesn't get it. This sounds ungentle
J manly, but it's necessary. For if you
i- let yourself get shunted into the
street often enough It's only a ques
tion of time when a watchful uxJ
i- auto will get you.
COLORS THAT HARMONIZE.
The combination of colors in dress
displays more forcibly than any oth
er one point the excellent or bad
taste of the wearer. Of course it
cannot be expected that every woman
shall possess a true eye for harmony
of tone, because this faculty is in
born and cannot bo acquired, but
lhere is a certain color sense—as it
were—that all women can cultivate.
Far instance, the new wistaria
shade and a pale pastel blue are
lovely In combination given the right
quantities, such as a hat of pale wis
taria felt, trimmed with pale violets
and a touch of pastel blue. But a
blue hat decorated with violets will
look flat and cold, so that a touch
of black would be necessary to give
It life.
Pure violet and pale blue simply
clash. A deep shade of prune harmon
izes with pale blue, and so does a
pastel blue and a bluish violet.
Blue and yellow are effective to
gether. By this I do not mean that
any shades In any kind of proportion
may be combined. But a dark blue
cloth may be ornamented with a
touch of sulphur or mustary color, or
braided with gold, and will be effec
tive, but a yellow frock decorated
with navy ribbons will not be a suc
cess.
A pale blue sash worn with a pale
lemon frock will be pretty, and so
will a Leghorn hat wreathed In
cornflowers.
Deep blue and dark red are a safe
combination; the former, however,
must predominate. A blue dress may
hit* trlmmod with roil rmt »» 1 mlfh
blue. Pale pink and pale blue come
under the same rule—the pink must
be In lesser proportion.
Tan. which Is really orange mixed
with black, looks pretty with almost
any shade of blue, and the gray
blues are effective with a touch of
tan.
There is an attractive, undecided
?reen that has a touch of yellow <n
It that harmonizes with the new wis
taria and heliotrope tones, also with
~erfain tints of old rose.
The genuine shades of heliotrope
combine prettily with dull pale yel
low. Olive green Is particularly suc
cessful when put with copper color.
Very faint touches of shell pink will
brighten olive green and the same
delicate tone will be effective used
as a lining to a coppery brown. Em
erald green with pale blue Is often
pleasing In effect.
Oray Is attractive when combined
with pale pink rose color, pale yel
low, lemon or burnt orange. All
shades of brown on the golden, chest
nut chocolate or leather shades may
be safely combines! with either blue
or green.
Due regard, however, must be giv
en In selecting the shades to go to
gether. A good plan Is to take n
bit of the brown material when buy
ing and keep testing with the vari
ous shades of green that will be
found In the store before making a
selection. If the buyer lacks confi
dence in her own taste the sales
person will always be ready to give
an opinion.
A few rules to follow are these: —
When two colors do not look well
together separate them with white
whenever possible.
Many persons possess an Idea that
every combination can be “toned"
with black. This Is a mistake.
Hmek lowers the tints when plac
ed In contact with them, but It be
comes dull In Itself, besides Impart
ing a certain amount of dulness to
the colors. White, on the contrary,
takes a tinge* of the colors it seeks
to modify, thus lessening the dead
whiteness and at the same time less
ening the intensity of the tones with
wnir,u it is combined.
Black and white is always a safe
combination, and a small proportion
(°'f chosen color will not de
stroy the artistic effect of these two
—New York Telegram.
LABOR TO AID SUFFRAGE.
Mrs. Carrie Chapman Catt, presi
dent of the Interurban Woman Suf
frage Council, of New York, appeal
<•<1 to the delegates of the Central
federated Union to assist the coun
cil in the collect’on of one million
signatures to a woman suffrage peti
tion to Congress. A committee from,
the council was empowered to ask
all affiliated unions to have their
Members sign the petition. The C.
F U. delegates were Instructed to
aid the work. Mrs. Catt, in a speech
to the delegates, said:
' President Gompers and Vice Presi
dent Mitchell of the American Fed
eration of Labor are on our advisory
board for the petition. We will have
them go before Congress and speak
in our behalf.
"President-elect Taft says he be
lieves in woman suffrage, hut that
he does not believe the people aro
ready for it. .Many members of Con
gress say the same thing. We wll'
*et “^natures from all parts of the
country for our petition, which we
hope will be the largest ever pre
sented to Congress.
"In the legislatures of Europe
woman suffrage is one of the groat
questions of the day. The movement
o extend the suffrage engages the
attention of the entire European pop
ulation. Women in the great Eu
ropean cities have special privileges
In England, Scotland and Ireland
women vote on all questions except
for members of Parliament. i„
Norway women having small proper
y rights have the right to vote for
members of Parliament and are also
permitted to 8it in Parliament. In
Hnland women have universal suf
frage. in Australia and New Zealand
they al«n have the suffrage. Only In
America are they disfranchised.”
■•lu Colorado,” added a delenta ii
fred J. Boulton, discussing the ’suh!
ject, "the women defeated the
litical machines and elected a now
ful friend of the people to th".
bench.” (
BOSTON GIRL CHARMS PARIS
Of all the Americans who a-e
seeking fame through art in Part®
the one who has achieved the great
est success this season is a Ut?.
Boston girl, Aline van Barentzen*
eleven years old, whose piano re’
cltals have been reported briefly jn
cable despatches to The New Yn,i
World. rs
In spite of the fact that she has
received praise from royalty and oth
er distinguished men and women
she Is still an unaffected, simple u,‘.
tle American girl.
She takes as much pleasure tn
playing difficult works of Liszt Bee
thoven, Chopin and the other’ mas
tors as other girls take in their dolls
Adlne has taken two medals at the
famous Conservatoire here, and is
now trying for the Grand Prize. She
was younger than any other pUpn pV.
er" admitted to the Conservatoire, and
is younger by two years than any
other person ever permitted to try
for the Grand Prize. Those who
have heard Josef Hoffmann and re
member when he was a youthful
prodigy in knickerbockers say that
little Aline has a future assured even
more brilliant.
She has given two concerts In
Paris, both attended by persons well
know'n in the American and English
colonies and in the social life of the
capital. Infanta Eulalia has been as
siduous in her attentions to the
American prodigy, and since this
mark of royal favor it has become
"the thing" to have Aline at altef>
noon receptions.
JUST IMAGINE.
One of the newest vogues In so
cial circles in Ixmdon for engaged
men is the wearing of gold bangles
above the elbow. It is not likely to
be adopted by the engaged men on
this side of the Atlantic. New York
„ .1.. 1_ - .. .
taken kindly to such fads. Some of
them have been known to wear
1 bands of gold, presented by tbeir
fiancee, on the upper part of the arm,
'• out of sight, so that few of their in
; timate friends were aware of it. In
England the bangle, given by the
i young woman, la locked on the arm,
and the summer sports—golf, ten
nis and rowing—have revealed just
| how many athletic youths are about
; to become benedicts. The fad all
| turns on a fashion—rather late la
the day to discover it—set by the
I king, who it appears since bis mar
’ riago has always worn a heavy gold
bangle on his wrist. A dozen or fif
teen years ago there were some men
in this prosaic country who were in
trepid enough to attempt the wear
ing of the gold bangle, but the
qulbs and Jests of their friends soon
weaned them of the fad.—Washing
ton Star.
WAR ON CHINESE MOTHERS IN
LAW.
Chinese women have been success
: ful in their revolt against the bar
baric custom of compressing the feet,
and now they are engaged in a cam
! paign for the suppression of mothers
j in-law. This means modern advance
■ ment for the Celestial Kingdom with
a vengeance, and though the agita
; tion may appear humorous to us it
is of grave import to the mothers
in-law. The Chinese wives have or
ganized anti-mother-in-law clubs,
which doubtless will And the ap
proval of many American husbands.
The complaint Is that the Chinese
mother-in-law Is too much of a busy
body; that she is an autocrat, a posi
tive nuisance and a bar to complete
happiness between married couples.
The Chinese wife does not object to
being ordered about by her husband,
but she has put her foot down against
i being ordered about by her husband's
i mother. There can be no doubt of
I the outcome. The Chinese mother
; in-law is bound hi lose her power.—
i New York Press.
TO COMBAT INJUSTICE.
! An academic association for wom
an suffrage has been founded at Zu
! rich, Switzerland. It aims to com
bat Injustice toward equal laws and
' equal pay as well as equal suffrage
| for both sexes. It is Intended to ap
j peal in the first Instance to men and
; women of university education as be
I Ing best able to understand the
needs and help the movement. In
' America there has been a similar in
j Etltutlon for several years, the Col
i lege Equal Suffrage League, which
, the advocates of the movement for
equal suffrage say has accomplished
’ a great deal of good.—New York
Sun.
FASHION NOTES.
Yellow diamonds are the reigning
jewels.
The hood le a great favorite for
theatre wear in Paris.
Real gems figure on buttons of
many of the coats.
Long transparent sleeves are worn
with low-necked gowns.
Tunics are more seen in daytime
robes than in evening ones.
Tiny black-spangled fans are fash
ionable for theatre-going.
There Is a growing tendency
j among brides to eliminate the face
veil.
The upstanding jaunty quill °r
feather is the only trimming really
permissible upon the smaller fur
toques. ..
There Is a rage for bugles as we
as for sequins, and they may be
had in every color suited to evening
gowns.
Feathery effects wrought in sou
tache are accorded a foremost pla<«
In the work of some of the grca
French costumers.
Ahnost without exception the l°n
coats are considered the smaites.
though some of the late models ar
quite short. t
Bodices are more often than
draped, and are apt to make up
elaborate effect what the 6
lack In this respect.