Gilpin observer., November 28, 1912, Image 3

About Gilpin observer. (Central City, Colo.) 1897-1921

Image provided by: History Colorado

                
BRIDE’S TABLE LINEN
BEST PLAN FOR ESTABLISHING
AND REGULATING SUPPLY.
Expen,* May Ba Vary Meaaurably Da
eraaaed by Cara and Attention, as
Naeda of Growing Family
Must Be Satisfied.
A bride In modest circumstances
Will find four tablecloths an ample
supply at the start. A good plan is to
add one tablocloth and one-half or one
whole dozen of napkins (according to
the number In the family) each year.
In this way the supply of table linen
Is kept up. When the family Is small
the tablecloth measuring two yards
square Is correct. The two and one
half yards by two yards cloth Is suf
ficiently large for a table seating six
to eight persons.
The damask that comes by the
yard, two yards wide, at one dollar a
yard. Is very fair quality for every
day use. The bordered cloth, two
yards square, will probably cost $2.50,
the linen about the same grade as the
yard goods.
Napkins costing from two to three
dollars a dozen will match these
cloths. At the first price the napkins
will measure 20 Inches square. These
are Intended for breakfast and sup
per. Dinner napkins will measure 27
Inches, and a very fair quality may be
bought for a quarter apiece. Of
course, a set of cloth and napkins
may be added and held In reserve for
ÜBe when company Is being enter
tained. Very often this set comes In
the form of a wedding present, but
four tablecloths and three dozen nap
kins will be enough for a small fam
ily.
In choosing table linen large de
signs should be avoided. There la
nothing more satisfactory In the long
run than the dot design showing a
handsome border. If carefully darned
as soon as Blgns of wear appear the
pattern can be followed so the mend
ing will be Invisible.
The linen must bear the Initials of
your maiden name.
These are embroidered in white, the
letters about two Inches high, across
one corner three Inches or so above
the hem.
The napkins are marked In the
same'way, the size of the letters being
reduced proportionately.
LATEST FROM PARIS.
A Bulloz model of white charmeueo
trimmed with lace and embroidery of
•liver and pearl*.
ORNAMENTS FOR THE CLOAK
Imitation Roaea of Daintily Woven
Silk Thraada Are the Moat Popu
lar Juat Now.
Have you mastered the art of dainti
ly twisting and gathering aoft allk un
til one looka with wonder on what
•eema a perfect roae? Then you can
make a thoroughly dealrable garniture
tor your neweat evening wrap.
Let It be of whatever hue you con
alder moat becoming, but make for
Ita bedecking either one very large or
two more moderately alzed ailken
roaea, pompon faahlon.
They can either be double or of that
•oml-double type which reveala a heart
of gold, aaya the New York Herald,
and they are uaed to define the grace
fully draped fold which conceala the
faatenlng together of the two aide* di
rectly In front. Aa If allghtly gath
ered up with the linger tlpa, each of
the looae coat fronta ahould be caught
with one of the roaea, and the outer
petala, half cruahlng together, cover
the real faatenlng which catchea the
coat fronta aecurely In place.
Slashed Hems.
The new alaahed hem haa removed
one of the greateat dlfllcultlea of the
extremely narrow aklrt, giving a
much dealred freedom In walking that
aenalble American women lnalat up
on having, In aplte of faahlon'a edlcta
In lta modified form the alaabed aklrt
la entirely practical, aa the alaah la
pot apparent except when the wearer
da In motion, when a plaited under
•action of the material la revealed.
AT THE HAIRDRESSER’S
By J. S. PEEBLES.
"No, my hair Isn’t really thin, as hair
goes,” agreed the girl as she settled
herself In the hairdresser’s chair and
helped tuck the white bib around her
neck. “But It’s so fine! It grows won
derfully for curly hair —you know,
they say curly hair Is never long—but
mine really Is surprisingly long, If only
it would stay In! You see, It comes
out dreadfully—l mußt have a wonder
fully healthy scalp, or I’m sure I’d be
bald at the rate it comes out, except
for the rapidity of its growth!
"All I want these treatments for is
to make it stop falling out! Do you
think they’ll do the work? I want to
try one or two first, and If they seem
to do me good, then I’ll take the whole
course. So you see, you’d better give
me a particularly good treatment this
time.
"My hair oily? No, never! Yes, it
may seem slightly so Just now, for
I’ve been using a tonic that makes it
that way, but you ought to see It when
it’s just washed! It’s so fluffy—it
looks as if 1 had oceans of it —that’s
one consolation. I think it’s better to
have fine hair and not have so much,
but have it fluffy, than have coarse,
straight hair that never looks decent,
don’t you? Oh, yours is straight, isn’t
it? But then yours isn’t very coarse,
is it? Most people haven’t very fine
hair, have they? But then, I suppose
they have other redeeming features.
"I hope this tonic won’t make my
hair greasy—l can’t bear that! If it
does I’ll never come again! Don’t you
think you ought to rub it until it’s dry?
I’vo heard that artificial dryers aren’t
good for the hair. Well, we’ll see by
the results. Of course, I don’t expect
impossibilities from this first treat
ment but it ought to tell a little about
the final result.
"Oh, 4s that little thing the same
you use for facial massage? I never
had a facial massage—just run it over
my face, will you, so I can know how
it feels? Oh, isn’t that delicious!
Just run it across my forehead a few
times, will you? You know, I’m get
ting wrinkles In my forehead! Did
I you ever hear of such a thing in a per
! son of my age? I know I worry a
! great deal, but that comes of having
1 such a conscientious disposition! I’m
I always assuming responsibilities that
are really too heavy for my years! Of
j course, you know I’m not bragging—l
truly don’t think it's anything to brag
of ,do you—giving one’s life to others
and using up one’s vitality on little
things, when one should, I suppose,
keep all one’s energies for one’s own
affairs!
"But, then, there are always some
i who have to assume the burdens of
■ those who are selfish and who think
that they are to be kept for some big
1 work, without worry! My sister is
that way—she imagines that just be
' cause she teaches kindergarten she is
doing something important—‘training
the future men and women/ she calls
It —and she’s alwayß studying for it,
and she absolutely hardly ever goes
out with me. She’B awfully selfish
that way. But I have to forgive her,
for, of course, when she doesn’t go I
have the use of her things—and, work
! lng as she does, she can have so many
lovely things that I personally could
hardly afford.
"Oh, aren't you going to run that
i thing over my bead any more? Why,
I thought that was the principal part
of the treatment —electricity—and I do
; just love It, It's so nice and soothing
1 could go to sleep! Just do It a while
longer. I’m sure my hair needs It!
Oh, what If there are other appoint
ments? Can't they wait a while? I
had to! Remember, my whole course
depends upon this first treatment, so
you'd best make It thorough.
“Now, don't comb It fussy —l detest
fUßslly dressed hair. Just neat and
i simple and pretty. Oh, mercy, not ,
like that! Why, that makes me look
Just like an old maid! I want It coil
ed and brought low In the back, in
three of those rolls, but not just like
shop girls wear them —I want some
thing original. No, I hate puffs,
they're all out of style!
“I think I won’t take the whole
course here, the assistants arc too
Impertinent! What's that? No, I do
! not expect to have a scalp treatment
' and a facial massage and my hair
dressed In the newest fashion, all for
fifty cents! I think I shall find some
one who Is not bo mercenary. Good
morning!" ,
House of the Dalai Lama.
The Dalai Lama's late temporary
residence at Kallmpong, the Bhutan
Durbar house, Is now occupied by !
Raja Ujen Dorjee's sister, the Kaxtnl
Wangmola. The Lama's three rooms,
the audience chamber, Bitting room
and bedroom, are Just as he left them.
Hundreds of butter lamps He about
on tables and mantel shelves and, the
windows being closed, the smell of
rancid butter Is sickening. A large
shrine la being erected In the Lama's
1 bedroom. This room will thus be-
I come a kind of hbly of holies In the |
I estimation of the northern Buddhists.
The dais in the audience chamber Is
beautifully painted In Tibetan fash
ion, with a gorgeous colored silk can
opy overhead.
Colored Chinese silk canopies were
also hung above his bed and couch. |
There was also sfime fine European
furniture In all the rooms. The name ;
of each room was written on the lintel
outside In bold cursive Tibetan char
acters. —Japan Advertiser.
Easily Affected.
“I understand Jlgaon is very sue
eeptlble to Intoxicating drinks.”
"Yes, Indeed. Sometimes a mere
whiff out of a bottle will make his
entire system rejoice."
ONCE KEPT A DAIRY
By KENNETH JONES.
"Why are you so worn and weary
looking?” inquired the little stenogra- ;
pher as she turned toward the book
keeper and scrutinized him carefully
before opening her desk for the day.
"Did you ever keep a diary?” asked
the bookkeeper byway of reply.
"Oh, you poor man!” exclaimed the
little stenographer, understandingly.
"Some one found it, of course."
He nodded and sighed.
"Of course, I might try to comfort
you by saying we all learn by experi
ence and there’s nothing that time
doesn’t heal and such things, but I
won’t. It’s all Just so much rubbish
to the person you try to comfort. So
I’ll Just admit that it’s a perfectly aw
ful scrape. I c«n see that some one
has found it who oughtn’t to know.”
"My kid brother,” explained the
bookkeeper, laconically.
"What! As bad as that?” exclaim
ed the little stenographer, horrified.
"It’s one I kept quite a while ago—
and I’d forgotten it,” began the book
keeper, brightening up at the prospect
of unburdening his mind and gaining
sympathy. "I noticed for two or three
days that Bill was grinning at me in
a mysterious way and this morning he
made known the secret. He found
it in an old coat pocket up in my
closet. I used the pocket as a hiding
place, and haven’t had that coat out
in ages to go through the pockets.
"You see,” he went on, "I kept that
diary when I had an awful case of un- j
dying love for a girl, and, of course, I
It’s all about her. When I see her
coming now I make a bee line for the
next corner and turn the other way..
Why, I never even want to meet any ;
one with her first name. But my
present feelings didn’t influence what
I wrote in that diary—not a bit!
"When it happened I was ashamed
of going with any girl and I kept it
all a secret, telling the folks at home
that I was going to be out with some
of the fellows when I went to see her. i
And as the diary wasn’t dated —for I
considered that unnecessary—there’s
no proof that the whole thing isn’t of
present standing!
"Bill called me aside today and
whispered audibly, so the whole fam
ily heard: ‘Have you written in
your diary this morning?’ When I
looked my surprise—for, of course, the
truth didn’t dawn on me for a sec-
ond —he laughed and pulled out the lit
tle red leather book! That brought
it all back with lightning speed. Then
he darted out of the door before I
could get hold of him.
"The family began to make inquir
ies. Soon Bill pat his head in at the
window and said he wanted to speak
to me a minute. When I refused he
called out: *Oh, well, I’ll just read
a page from this little red book to
amuse the family.’ So he bega# to
shout some silly trash about Mildred.
I rushed out hurriedly to buy him off*
"But he won’t be bought off. That
is, not once for all. He demanded $1
this morning, because his roller skates
need to be put into condition. I’ve
always thought 10 cents too much for
: him, so you can Imagine that the dol
lar came hard! But he wouldn’t part
with the book, and although I begged
him all morning until I left to give It
to me he simply thought up schemes
for levying blackmail.
“I don’t dare thrash him and take
away the book, because he’s quoted
| so much of It from memory that I
know he's got It all by heart, and he’d
i repeat It with Interest If given half a
i chance. If he did, of course, I couldn't
disprove It, without showing the orig
inal!
“And to think it was about Mildred!
Why, Bhe's putty-faced and has the
disposition of a poodle, and she hasn't
„ any more Btyle than a bag of pota
toes, and—oh, she’s absolutely the
’ limit! BUI would go and read the
' whole thing to her In a minute If he ■
, took the notion. I don’t know how
I'm going to exist! I’m totally In his
power, and It means ball games even
when I have previous engagements!
It means taking him along In the eve
nings If he wantß to go! It means a
thousand trials that will make death
t a blessed thing to contemplate!
“Why on earth do people make
such foolß of themselves? What good
did It do me to keep that horrible i
diary, anyway? I never read It over, i
and It makes me hot to think of the
good summer hours I wasted writing I
the stuff Just to amuse Bill!"
“But why don’t you let him do his i
worst?" asked the little stenographer.
“It'll only make Mildred know you did
care once—and she knows you don't
now. And you don't care If your fam
ily knows that you've got over your
foolishness!"
“Yes,” bitterly responded the book
keeper, “and Bill would hesitate only
about five minutes before he’d take It
over to Grace, and, then ’’
“Oh!" The little stenographer shook
her head. "Perhaps you’d better hur
ry and elope with Grace,” she sug
gested as she began cleaning the keys
of her typewriter.—Chicago Dally
| News.
StonE Microbes.
The decay of building stones, ac
cording to more than one authority. Is
not due to wind action or other sur
face Influence, but to Internal disin
tegration resembling wood rot, and
tbts is ascribed by some to a low
organism like the fungi and the molds
that cause the decay of vegetable sub
stances.
A cure has been found for the stone
disease, or at least a form of treat
ment that diminishes its ravages The
'•tones are treated with germloi’rs,
the best of which appears to be u r
lure of sulphate of copper re
with bichloride of mercury a'
•ota.—Harper's Weekly
MAKE DOUBLE PHOTO FRAME
Article Always In Demand Either for
the Home or for Sale When
Bazar Is In Order.
Photograph frames may be reck
oned among those things of which it
is almost impossible to possess too
many, and they are also very salable
articl s to make for bazars. We give,
therefore, a sketch of a dainty little
frame of a very pretty, simple and
effective shape. It can be made In
any size to suit requirements, and for
the foundation a piece of stout card
board is used, cut out in the shape in
dicated in the sketch, and two cir
cular spaces cut away for the por
traits. Swansdown, flannelette (or
any kind of thick fleecy material)
should be pasted on that side of the
board which is to form the front of
the frame, and over this pale pink
silk is placed, on which the floral de
signs shown has been worked. The
silk should be fastened on by stretch-
ing it tightly across and bending it
over the edges, and sectfring it at
the back with some strong adhesive.
The floral design is clearly shown,
and can be easily worked from out
sketch, and merely consists of leaves
embroidered in silks in various shades
of green. At the upper edge of the
frame two small brass rings are sewn
on, by which it may be suspended
from nails in the wall.
The photographs can be fastened
in their places with pieces of glass
arranged in front of them, with pa
per pasted across the back.
CONCERNING THE NEW SHOES
! Ideas From an Authority May Help to
Guide Our Readers in Their
Selections.
In Oxfords the general demand will
be in the order named, says the Boot
and Shoe Recorder*. Straight lace,
button, Blucher and some six and sev
en button Oxfords being noted in the
west.
Lace boots will be shown in greater
I number; trimmed tops, blind and raw
■ eyelets, and bail effects. In patterns,
plain designs are prominent, with neat
needle perforations in place of large
and conspicuous perforations.
Heels are largely Cuban. A new
idea is shown in the combination Cu
ban and Louis heel.
In pumps a great variety is shown.
New ideas —flat bow pumps are com
‘ nion. Pump tops are being perforated,
beaded, piped and collared, giving a
J touch of newness to the shoe ©f sev
( eral seasons’ popularity.
Fabrics used mostly in topping are
in the glossy, corded effects. The di
agonal cloth is noted in harmonizing
color combinations with the vamp.
The following leathers are used in the
order named: Black calf, shiny and
dull; tan calf a close second; quite a
few shoes with kid uppers; patent
leather and samplings in white, the
last named leather being in the test
period. A few red boots and Oxfords,
a few gray Oxfords, and a few com
binations give a spice to novelty buy
ers.
WICKER NOVELTIES FOR BABY
Most Attractive and Convenient Are
the Articles Just Now Offered
In Profusion.
The white wicker double wardrobes
for baby's first thlngß are very con
venient. as well as most attractive.
These wardrobes differ from the sin
gle wicker wardrobes which came out
last year, Inasmuch as they contain
six drawers or trays Instead of three
for baby’s clothes. Four of these
trays pull out, while the other two are
stationary. The top of the wardrobe
forms a dressing table for baby with
a tiny shelf above. All the little toilet
articles may be placed on this table,
while the trays may be kept for
the tiny clothes only.
Little white nursery hampers, made
of genuine palm, are among other
wicker novelties shown for baby.
These hampers are made very much
In the shape of a tiny trunk, with a
cover which can be kept open the
same as a real trunk lid.
Another trunk feature Is the tiny
Inside tray, In which all the dainty lit
tle accessories may be kept, while
the dresses and u or wear may be
plaoed In the lower yurt
If a canvass cover were made to
fit the hamper It could easily be used
as “baby's trunk” when away for the
summer. Two little brass handles are
fitted at each side, and a lock and key
could be attached at the front of the
hamper.
Pretty Window Curtains.
For the home where guests are al
ways arriving and departing there
Is nothing quite so nice for the win
dows as white cotton crepe. This can
be simply hemmed or trimmed with
ball fringe.
For the dressers and bureaus cov
ers of fleece lined pique will be found
very satisfactory. This can be cut
Into the required sizes and the edges
buttonholed In scallops.
Two sets of curtains and covers
should be kept on hand, one In use
nnd a clean one besides. In this way
there Is always a fresh set awaiting
rhe tnrnmlnz truest.
MAKING UP A QUARREL
By C. OSCAR CARSON.
"There’s n a pleasing a man!” Mrs.
Simpson’s Cone was pained rather
than angry. Then she turned to leave
the room.
Simpson went on reading his paper
instead of making any withering re
marks. She hesitated, her hand on
the doorknob, and- then- turned toward
him.
"I —I’ve tried so hard, ever since
we’ve been married to please you!”
she said. "I’ve tried to make the
home as pleasant as possible and —
and I just can’t satisfy you?" She
waited, her mouth set in a line of
pain, her eyes fixed reproachfully on
her husband.
"Now,” remonstrated- Simpson, pa
tiently, "what’s the use? I just hap
pened to suggest that the steak might
have been slightly more tender- —
"Tender!” Mrs. Simpson clasped
her hands. "Once a man’s married,
taken a girl from her happy home,
promised her everything in the world
he proceeds to connect the word ten
der only with beefsteak! Some peo
ple’s hearts are tender enough.”
Simpson finished the column he
was reading. "What did you say?”' he
inquired, politely.
"I gave up going away this sumr
mer,” his wife mournfully went ora,
“so that you might be
I’ve stood over the hot stove baking
in the hottest weather so that you
might have good food!”
"Now, my dear,” said Simpson, "did
I ever ask you to bake in the hot
weather? Haven’t I always said em
phatically that I detested hot food
in hot weather? Haven’t I asked
time and again that we might dine
on a cold fare once in a while, and —”
"That’s it! I simply can’t satisfy
your Whatever Ido is wrong! You
always want just what I haven’t
done! **
"But, great Scott! If it’s unbearable
for you to stand over the stove and
cook hot things, since it’s unbearable
for me to eat them after they’re
cooked, in the name of all that’s sen
sible, why not choose the bearabls al
ternative?”
“That’s right! Scold me, it you (
want to!” She wiped her eyes care- (
fully. "That’s what wives are for. ]
Things for men to vent their wrath j ,
on! And after I’ve passed the- whole | ,
morning working for you—sorting all
yonr things and cleaning up the
den —”
“I’ve asked you a thousand times
to let those things alone/' broke in
Simpson, impatiently.
“Oh, I know you’d not be pleased.
But it’s something to know that I’ve \
been doing right, even if no one ap
preciates it. If I should die —and I
get tired very easily, as I discovered
when I ran up to the den so often and
back to the basement with things—”
"Have you been c&rting my things
to the basement? Well, of all” —
Simpson swallowed some extra words.
"I’ve only taken out the things that
you never use—saved you a lot of
work. But, never mind.” She sat
down and pressed her forehead sug
gestively. "My head is simply ham
mering. I never could stand to be
found constant fault with, and it’s
telling on me. My nerves are almost
shattered!”
"I’m surprised that you haven’t
lamed yourself with a sprained ankle
going up and down stairs! Are you
sure your heart isn’t acting up, after
all your exertions?”
Mrs. Simpson put her head down on
her arms and sobbed once or twice,
quietly. Then she wiped her eyes and
arose slowly. "I see you can’t bear to
have your wife around, so I’ll go up
to my room,” she said. “And,” she
added, turning toward him a look of
meek submission, “I mended all your
old socks today, too.”
“Well, send them to the salvation
army,” replied her husband, gruffly.
“I’ve been trying to get them darned
for a month and finally gave It up,
and you know I bought a lot of socks
last week. Why on earth did you de-
cide to do the mending after I quit
needing It done?”
* “Well, I found time to”—she watch
ed him longingly and sighed. “Harry,”
she exclaimed, “why are you so cross
to me?” She rushed over to him. “Tell
me you’re sorry,” she pleaded, “and
I’ll forgive you everything. I can’t
bear to quarrel with you. You are
sorry, aren't you, dear?”
“Yes, yes—you’re in my light!” he
replied, aB he p\it away her encircling
arms and picked up his paper. “Oh,
It’s so good to be friends again!?
sighed Mrs. Simpson, happily.—Chi
cago Dally News.
Irish National Color.
The color officially recognized for
Ireland is blue, St. Patrick's blue, and
that was unclently and honorably rec
ognized as the Irish color. In the
royal standard of the United King
dom the quarter blazoning Ireland
shows this field of blue as the back
ground f<¥ the golden harp with Its
silver strings. The ribbon of the
Order of St Patrick Is of the same
blue. The green Is the revolutionarv
color and Is quits modern. Some an
tiquarians maintain that the earliest
flag of Ireland was of orange, long
antedating the more recent factional
use of that color. \
His Impression.
Farmer Carrot —So you’ve been ».’
th’ city, Sl—your fust time tharT
Farmer Beetroot—Yep.
Farmer Carrot —Wa’all, how was It'
What Impressed ye most?
Farmer Beetroot—You know how 1
ounds In th’ barn when a thrashn
-»chlne's goln’ llckety split?
Farmer Carrot—Yep.
’•inner TVetroot—Wa’all, th’ km
v’s Jes* 111 •* that—Judge.
PUT TO MONEY TEST
By CAROLINE KRAUSE.
Yonng Stacey walked into the par
lor after the manner of one who had
frequently been there before, deposit
ed his box of candy on the table, snap
ped his fingers at the pet dog, smiled
beamingly on Miss Becker and sat
flown.
"Eugenia,” he said, "if I had one
million dollars would you marry me?”
The young woman looked startled,
but recovered herself. "You haven’t
It,” she Bald, as though that settled
the case.
"Stranger things have happened,”
declared young Stacey. "Other men
have had unknown uncles die in Aus
tralia or Alaska and leave them vast
wealth. Why aim I different from oth
er men? Why should you deny me
an unknown unde?”
"Jimmy Staceyf” exclaimed the
yoiaig woman, doubtfully. "Have you
really—did you—have you honestly
got an unknown uncle —”
"I don’t see why I shouldn't have,”
said young Stacey in an Injured tone.
"I don’t see why you shouldn’t think
it would be so remarkable. It doesn’t
take any particular amount of brains*
to have relatives. That isn’t what I’m
Interested in, though. What I want to
know is whether you’d marry me if 1
had a fortune left me.”
"The idea!”
"Well, would you?* The last time
you declined my heart and hand it
was on the score that we couldn’t live
on my salary. If I had a million,
now—”
"Of course,” said Miss Becker, "It
would make a. cTfference.”
, "Eugenia!” young Stacey cried:
“That you should be mercenary and
—what is worse—openly glory in It!
What are girls coming to nowadays?
Men used to be loved for themselves
alone, but now a fellfew has to sign
and swear to an agreement to provide
30 many tailor suits and party dresses
and so much pocket money before
they will even consent to place him
on the waiting list? I thought you
were different!”
"I’m not mercenary,” insisted the
young woman "I just have common
sense. I’m not going to starve to
death with any man, and have him
hate me because I can’t greet him at
| dinner time w*ith a smile and mani-
I cured bands and a dress-up dress!
Men are so Inconsistent, you know!
They have a lurking idea that any
woman who is truly feminine should
be able to scrub the kitchen floor,
cook dinner over a hot stove, answer
the bell and the phone and polish the
silver all at once, and yet greet her
husband at the front door looking as
though she was on her way to an ex
tremely fashionable afternoon tea!”
"If you cared about me,” said
young Stacey, grimly, "you wouldn’t
feel that way!”
"That’s all you know about it!” re
clared Miss Becker. "No, you sit right
over there where you are! Now, tell
me, honestly—have you Inherited a
million ?”
"Would you marry me if I had?” #
"I might as well he honest,” sighed
Miss Becker. “I would. Only I
wouldn’t, because you’d say that I was
mercenary.”
“You would be, too,” Insisted young
Stacey, in an injured tone. "But I’d
take you!”
"Men certainly are foolish,” mused
the young woman. "I do 1-1-like you,
Jimmy. I’m sorry that you unknown
uncle hasn’t died.”
“How unfeeling!” commented young
Stacey. “I’ve no doubt he enjoyed
life Just as much as we do. Eugenia,
I'm awfully unhappy because you
won’t say yes. I don’t blame you for
turning me down on that salary. I
knew I'd no business to ask you, but
I couldn’t help It. I don’t want you
to marry me because I have a million,
but because you love me.”
“But you haven’t got a million!”
cried Miss Becker in an exasperated
tone, the more Intense because she
was on the verge of tears. “It isn’t
fair to—”
“Eugenia,” said young Stacey, com
ing close to her, “I admit that I have
n’t a million. My unknown uncles are
wretchedly healthy—they never die.
When they do the town authorities us
ually trace me and send me the bill
for funeral expenses. But I’ve had a
Jump In salary at the office. I'm head
of the department now. Do you think
we’d starve on twenty a week?”
“Jimmy,” said Miss Becker fromhls
coat collar, “somehow I don’t care a
bit that It Isn't a million! I’m bo fool
ishly happy!”
Herculaneum and Pompeii.
The twin cities of mournful destiny
were both engulfed at the same time
—August, 79 A. D. The reason why
Herculaneum has not been excavated
to the same extent as Pompeii Is ow
ing to the fact that it was covered
with a much harder material than was
Pompeii; the dußt predominating In
Pompeii, while the lava prevailed over
Herculaneum. There Is not much
doubt about the eventual opening up
of both cities. Human curiosity, to
gether with the demands of history
and science, will not rest until Her
culaneum has been made to tell lta
secrets. It is unlikely, however, that
there will be much new knowledge
gained from Its excavation, but little
more than has already come to ua
from Pompeii. i
Not Wholly Satisfactory.
“Hasn't anybody been able to Invest
a smoke consumer that will work?"
asked Slathers, as the train passed
through Pittsburg.
“Not that I know of.” said Bllklns,
Tve got a boy who cats \
but I haven't 1 I
work vet.”—’