The Possibilities of Her Char
acter Hold the Press
Writers Who Look Upon Girl
Life as a Short Walk To
Sloans Over the Spinsterhood
of So Many Modern
Bedfern Grows Charmingly
Special Letter to the Globe.
New Yokk. Dec. 23.— "Woman" still
lioltls the press enthralled with the ca
prices and possibilities of her character,
and we hear, from the other side, that
••Marriageable* Women?' is the heading
under which male writers have satir
ized, joked and philosophized, and fe
male writers wailed and reasoned over
in the trans-Atlantic papers. Many of
the male writers on this subject are
still so far behind us as to look upon a
girl's life as a short walk with an ob
ject at the end of it, viz: a man, a hus
band, after the gainiuir of which object
the maidens sit down in everlasting
meek contentment. Good heavens!
liow long will it take to eradi
cate this idea. It is a false
one, however it may jar on the old
lashioned "Keep women in their proper
place" type of men to say so. The end
of the century girl requires much more
in a husband than her mother required
betore her. Remember, you who
mourn over the probable spinsterhood
of many of our modern maidens, that
the resources of Intellectual and artistic
occupations, the freedom from trail
ing conventionalities, the enlarged
capacity for absorbing knowledge of all
descriptions subtracts largely from the
grayness of a woman's unmarried life.
That there must lie a slight grayness
seems to a man intyitable,though many
women deny tins witli a pathetic quiver
in their voices.and wh yin the name of ajl
that is human, should a man be cruel
and conceited enouzb to look as though
lie doesn't believe it,* and yet many of
them do, and say so. Of course men
cannot help preferring the "woman who
clings." They dn. ana it is a matter
.■which no argument will alter or no
jqurnalistexplain. Which is the prettier
[picture, the clever, large-brained ivoffl
nn with her books, clubs, and debating
and literary societies, living her method
ical, philosophical, rational, solitary
life, or the young wife with the little
head nestling on her bosom? The uni
versal reply in favor of the latter shows
that there is a little sentiment left in
this battered world after all.
Meanwkiie which ever type pleases
us, both continue to flourish— cartons
tne way the world wags on— in spite of
the convulsive objections to its own
methods of wasrging. Redfern recalls
me from moralizing and philosophizing
to the discussion of fashion, which will
certainly be required even when there
are only wings and crowns to desiirn.
Furs, lie says, are the fashionable fads
of the hour, or rather of the winter, for
they seem to have "come to stay." It
is still the thing to be Russian, to
wear loose blouse Jike coats with girdles
and a preponderance of fur
on them. ■ The disposal of fur
on; capes muffs ami gowns
may be tasteful or quite the reverse, as
in many costumes we have noticed
lately, where the arrangement of a fur
tail and little beasts' li^ids are so gro
tesque that the bendy c\es seem to bejr
pathetically fur the society of the lost
liody— so conspicuous by its absence.
JStill the modiste says that furry ani
mals are not to hover over gowns in a
cherubim form, so if their little forms
are disturbed never mind— it is correct
Redfern is also garrulous enough this
week to say. that; bodices are iikelv to
be made with all round basques, viz.,
those with no opening down the front.
This is Russian decidedly. These
basques are generally edged with fur;
our authority on Filth avenue goes on
to say that sleeves v. ill seldom be seen
in a plain form, but will be puffed,
fchaped and garnished in many ways.
Yes. sleeves will be fantastic, and the
tthort top sleeve of velvet, fur-edged,
will give character to the latest coats.
Fur coats, by reason of their warmth —
not their beauty, for that is questiona
ble—still keep their place in popular
favor; but no woman who wants to look
smart on any brhrbt and particular oc
casion wears one them.
The first sketch of liedfern's, which
Te print this week, shows us that
cloaks of an extrrmelj picturesque
order are worn by fashionable people,
t ur Oeiiijr used as a trimming on these
as on every other garment which is
wade this vvluter, and on this, as on
everything else, narrow bands are pre
ferred to wide ones. The Medici collar
on this cloak is not Ihe ordinary one
that flares out stiffly, but an improved ]
one. which is far more becoming' curv
ing in and out at the back and turning
over broadly. The shoulders nre orna- j
mciited with a short, eaihered capelet. j
which is limited to the shoulder only.
The collar and shoulder is decorated ;
With braided wheels, which forms the
whole and an effective decoration.
The next is a house gown of rather
severe simplicity, perfection of fit and
delicacy of material, beine both impor
tant features. I fern has no difficulty
lo supply both the^e requisites— indeed,
lie excels all other modistei— in the
simple, severe slyJe. Felix may weave
delights of bioeade. passementerie,
gauze and velvet for the forms of iuxuri- :
ous actresses: Worth may produce mar- !
vels in eccentric artistic materials, but •
1 will maintain that It tokes Iledfern to !
make a fTOwn like this and yet manage
t'. let it escape tiam the dreadful verdict,
ordinary. This is marie "f simple mouse
colored faced I loth, the bell skirt beinjj •
finUhid off with three rows of dark
jfroen velvet >!■<.:.. The bodice ends
p'.T Just a tril In-low the waist, and is
•fdKed around with the velvet.' Tho
ireat of while I'oitgcc Ilk ia into Uie
entire front of the bodice, or rather al
most the entire front— the very small
remainder of which is covered with
line braiding of a color to match the
,(fi&Nv *ft i Pi
sown. The sleeves are plain old-fash
ioned loir of mutton sleeves, braided at
the wrists. The collar consists of a low.
plain, braided band.
Li; Bakox DB Bkkmoxt.
WHAT ONE WOMAN' THINKS
About the Sentiment, the Realty
and the Redemption of Cooking.
k n o wledee
and of Circe
and of Cal
yoso and of
o f Kebec
kah and of
It means the knowledge of all herbs
and fruits and balms and spices and of
all that is . healing and sweet in (ields
and groves and savory in meats. It
means carefulness and inventive
ness and watchfulness and wil
liiii:nes> an.t readiness of appli
ance. It means • the economy of
your great- mother and " the
science of modern chemists. It means
much tasting and no wasting. It means
English thoroughness, and French art,
and Arabian hospitality. It means, in
line, that you are to be perfectly and
always 'ladies' — loaf-givers' and as you
are to see imperatively that everybody
has something pretty to pat on, so you
are to see, yet more imperatively, that
everybody lias something nice to "eat."
No one treats a subject as delightfully
as Mr. Raskin, particularly the subjects
that pertain to women. One almost
loses sight of the stern realities that
start up from every corner in the cul
in your imagination and exhuberance
you tie a yellow satin ribbon on the
toasting-fork and suspend it from a
dansrle-board with gilded hooks. In
your heart you know Mr. Huskin would
appreciate it. In contemplation of the
Arabian hospitality and the spices and
the balms one desires to do eookinirat
once and all. but forgets the various
Ask a woman, "What does cooking
moan?" It means the patience of Job
and the persistence of the Pilgrim
fathers. It means th.2 endurance, the
long suffering and the martyr
dom of Joan of Arc. It means
the steaming ami the stewing
and the baking and the broiling,
thrice daily. Springs and summers and
autumns and winters, year after year,
decade following decade. It means
perspiration and desperation and resig
nation. It means a crown and a harp
and a clear title to an estate in heaven.
From her judgment and reason she must
evolve triumphs that depend on salt
and pepper and spices and herbs. .She
mu3t know how soon and how Ion:: and
how much and how often. She must
know quality and quantity and cost.
She must serve the butcher and the
baker ami the candlestickmaker. Then
she must rise above it all ami '-be a lady
Right in here conies the servant ques
tion. It is an unsolvable problem, and
domestic happiness totters on account
of it. With two-thirds of the women in
the large cities Buffeting for the neces
saries of life and smarting under factory
wages, we have, on the oilier hand,
homes made desolate by the want uf
competent servants. We are not a gen*
••ration of cooka. A woman wiio is an
inefficient worker is usually an indiffer
ent overseer. With all the qualities re
quired in a cook, the supernatural pow
er must be inherent in order to fill the
Mil. When a brainless, untidy, fragrant
Bloustbella raps at the kitchen door,
we bid her enter. Then we place in her
hands the happiness, the temporal wel
fare, even the sou!"s salvation, of the.
entire family. The system is wretched.
The tact thatintelligent young women
aspire to a loftier plane than that of the
house servant is only an illustration of
the proirressivei.ess of our eouucry.
Tiiis beiusr the case, it behooves -the
housekeeper to place the helper on a
higher plane socially, and to remove the
degradation that is in the atmosphere
of the culinary department. This she
can do l#y lending her presence and the
encouragement of a personal interest.
A generation hence, perhaps, the de
plorable state of affairs graven on the
corner stone of domestic happiness will
cause a reaction, and mayhap the thrift
and efficacy of our tcianddaughters will
eclipse what Mr. Kuskin so gracefully
refers to as the "economy of our great
How the Style «>i" Dressing It Has
Varied BMtrtaji the Century.
HANGE! It is the im
mutable law of life.the
first iaw of fashion. In
woman lliis law is
more en evidence, fcr
the reason that her life
is more sympathetic
tad responsive. and the
reproach of fickle fash
ion has ever clung to
u«. mankind in conse
quence. Now, to one
pi cne tickle sex it is truly refreshing to
see. as in the Sunday Recorder of Aor.
l«. that in the matter of hairdressing
the noble mind of man lias changed al
most as often as our own.
But is it not curious to trace In these
various modes of wearing the hair the
duuisine life of the period.. the joys
and woes, t'no character and fortune or
their day? Se« the placid dignity of
Mistress Martha Custi- otl7.V3.tbe
powdered hair raised from the brow on
a cushion and combed from the neck to
the crown, one or two coquettish rinir
lets falling on the neck. This was the
era of powder, patches, stiff hoops and
Our next typ- of fashion, in ISfU, tells
—for our fashions are all imported—
the wild riot of. the:' French revolution;
TLTE SAINT PAUL DAILY GLOBE: SUNDAY MORNING, DECEMBER 27, JB9l. —SIXTEEN PAGES.
the charm of modesty was not in the
ascendant here. There was an apDear
ance. of loose simplicity of dress, but
fashion never ruled with such a cruel
sway. Here is what was toM in confi
dence by a good, decorous woman, a
belk of the day: "We. wore almost
nothing; arms bare to the shoulder, back
bare, almost to the waist, a full bust al
most cut in two by a rigid compress,
the thinnest of slippers and gossamer
stockings. I never wore more than one
dimity petticoat to a party, and used
often to dampen that one before 1 left
home that it iniuht din* closely to my
form: one must show t!ie whole outline
of the thigh to be elegant.
Is there any wonder that delicacy of
health and shattered nerve* were fash
ionable for long years after these fol
lies? Sec the typical mode of 1330—
the hair loosely droopinsr, as if from
weary headaches, the back division only
drawn up from the neck— "put out of
the way," as it were— the whole style ex
pressive of feeble health.
Then came the young Queen Victoria
in 1 *•;.■>— chaste wife, model mother,
good quern. The hair of her head
breathes of a pure, loving woman -
smooth, modest braids, uraeefully part
ed and knotted at the back head.
In 1»53 the French emperor married a
beautiful Spaniard, She introduces a
new fashion, not so artistic, more pre
tentious. The front hair is parted and
brushed boldly from the face over two
long, sausage-shaped cushions called
"rats." The ear obtains its freedom
for good or for ill; the back hair drops
fringe-like in curls over a low comb.
Tears pass: the Second Empire: Na
poleon 111. has grown luxurious and
corrupt. Behold the ruling passion of
the period, IS(>4, set by the notorious
Cora Pearl. No grace is here, no ex
pression, but gross, untidy display. The
front locks are frizzed and twisted into
horns; the ear as bare as can be made,
to show the ear jewelry. The mass of
hair at the back simply stuffed out into
the biggest shape possible, and a false
braid covers the only part of the head
not otherwise deformed.
The luxury and corruption of the sec
ond empire came to a sudden end in the
Franco-German war or ISTO. Then the
old, tawdry fashions drooped away.
False hau and stufline were thrown off,
the crimped and burned front locks
were cropued into careless "bangs:"'
the mass of hair, loosely braided, half
hanging down the back — all expressed
the indifference to externals in a woman
whose heart was broken and in despair.
But hope smiled again. The youne
French republic succeeds, business
brightens.wealth returns, and the "glory
of a woman"' is displayed in happier
days. The hair again crowns the head;
the "bangs" are refined and curled.
Here is one of the prettiest fashions,
Lssii. But what can hntf
The enervating march of luxury is
barred in these days, not by wars, but
by many business disasters. Adversity,
the stern but heaven-sent ruler, has not
yet lettthe world to peace. Woman has
come to the front in the battle of
life. Her duties are more coiwplicatrd,
her education more liberal, her mind
and heart more refined. Fashion fol
lows suit. The present coiffure is dis
tinguished for its elegant simplicity.
The hair is gathered back into a simple
knot, like a small coronet set on the
crown of the head, the front locks
parted and lightly drawn back, leavinu
a few curling rings to relieve the face.
'Hit' mode expresses health, hope and
How She Served the Summons.
She was bright and uretty, and siio
dropped into a lawyer's office the other
day and asked for work.
"\\ hat can you do?"
"Anything a woman of ability can do.
and more than most men."
••(Jreat opinion of yourself, young
woman." said an elderly lawyer pres
ent. •'Perhaps you think you could
serve this summons."*
"I might," said she. "May I look at
it? Yes. I will.
"It you do that you'll do something
we've all been tryinsr ts do for a week.
He's a slippery fellow, and his people
are all posted. However, you may try
it. You can afford to lose a little con
ceit." and the lawyer smiled grimly.
At 10 the next morning the office door
was opened, and the bright young
woman walked in again.
"Thought you'd give it up, eh?
Found him too slippery for you?
•'The paper is served." said she. It
was her turn to smile now. and she did
it. The lawyer swung round in his
'Served the—- Ilow'd you do it ?"
"Oh, it was simple enough. I called
at Ins place of business, looked around,
priced some materials and then asked if
be was in.
" 'No, 1 said the salesman, 'but 1 can
do as well."
" 'I thinK not." I said quietly. 'He has
always served me before, and he under
stands just what I want."
•"Oh. in that case you might call at
his house. He will be in to dinner.'
"1 did call at his house, dressed in
my best, card case in hand. I sent in
my card, and he appeared promptly.
"•Mr. ?' said 1, rising.
" 'Yes. You wished to see me on
" '1 hear you are interested in prop
erty in street?'
"'Well, I have a paper which will in
terest you concerning it.' offering him
the summons, which he took with a
smile. He looked at it and flushed
crimson. So did I. Nothing was said.
He controlled his temper and accom
panied me to the door."
"ADother field open to women," was
the lawyer's only comment.
latest Floral Design.
The latest bouquet for court presenta
tion combines the odd medley of lilies,
orchids and orange blossoms, with fine
white ribbon streamers suspended from
the handle, each of which has sprays of
the same flowers fastened its entire
length. To devise some novel arranse
ment in flower decoration taxes the in
genuity of the entertainer. A brilliant
New York authoress buys the most ex
pensive roses and throws them around
in loose bunches on an ottoman, side
table and foot rest, to be gathered up by
the half-dozen or so and handed to her
women friends as they depart from one
of her teas. Such a favor often serves
as the corsage boquet that evening at
theater or reception, and is sure to be
appreciated. Another pretty fancy Is
to have in the reception hall a wh»ei
barrow of cilded basket work to be filled
with roses for the guests to take away.
Strange as it may sound, the first time a
certain host attempted this with
out arranging them in bunches, she
was deeply chagrined to find that
so ereedy had been the first comers that
none were left for the last. After that
she saw to it that bunches of three or
four were tied tosether with a narrow
riblKMi bow. Since Mrs. Astor has been
giving receptions in her London resi
dence she is said to be extravagantly
lavish of flowers, using the most ex
pensive varieties in ereat profusion. It
nearly took the breath away from some
ot the guests on a recent* occasion to
find the hall completely lined with
chains of red carnations and yellow
azaleas, while the drawing rooms were
filled with the most delicate orchids.
DOROTHEA, DOKOTHY, AXD
>wett. my darling; Dora'
She's a veritable queen,
Fairest of the flora.
■\Vhcn she's lia tisrhty. when " provoked.
When inclined to be n
Triflsof the il.-xt with me, - - *-
Then the'a Dorothea.
llai<'.ei> in her tennis gown,
liniliiin! .t-* An: ors.
LHnghiu? with all keen d?li£h;
In the sport— thafs Dora.
But when tete-a tete we're sealed.
Ffllißg in with dznrer thoughts
When I'm «u e. of women all.
One is nil to mj—
Would yon kno* tlijit wondrous one?—
>he ia Dorothy.
—Irving s. Underbid in riIHHMw Pncsu ■'
ROSY LITTLE RUTH.
The Cleveland Baby Rusticat
ing- Amid the Soughing
Pines at Lakewood.
Father, Mother and Daughter
Seeking Rest and Renewal
Villagers and Guests Pay Due
Homage to the Little Win
The Only Thing" Grover Dreads
Is the Fiend With the Dead
New Y-ork Recorder.
OWN at Lakewood,
where the mournful
pine trees murmur
to the waters of
Lake Carasaljo, lit
tle Kuth Cleveland
is dreaminc away
her babyhood. In a
little hollow just
south of the Lake
wood hotel stands
the frame cottatre
which bflongs to
Mr. Strauss, the
manager of the bie
hostel ry. Mr.
Strauss and ('■ rover
Cleveland are givat
mends, and when the former heard
that Mrs. Cleveland and the baby girl
did not seem to thrive in the sharp
ocean breezes which sweep over New
York, he placed this cottage at their dis
posal. So they came down the other
day with a staff of four servants and
the baby and took possession.
All Lakewood turned out to meet
then id the pretty little depot, and a
hearty little cheer rippled up as Mrs.
Cleveland skipped out oi the parlor
car and walked swiftly to the carriage
in waiting. Those who saw her say
that she carried herself with all cf her
old-time grace, and walked with her
usual firm, eiastic step. They say, too,
that she looked happy and bright, and
not at al! like the invalid they expected
to see, and that she smiled graciously at
the crowd which had come to pay its
homage to the most popular woman in
(irover Cleveland came next and he,
too, bowed to the crowd as a little mur
mur of applause reached his ear.
And Then— the Baby.
But when the nurse, in snowy apron
and cap, came across the platform bear
ing in her arms a great white, fleecy
bundle, the murmur crew louder and
louder until it swelled iuloatremenious
The nurse, in obedience to a gesture
from Mrs. Cleveland, threw back the
coverings and revealed to the people
who pressed near a rosy little child fast
asleep in her arms.
Then they all entered the carriage and
were whirled away to the cottage which
will become their home for many months
Kobinson Crusoe on his desert island
was not more removed from view and
inaccessible to human beings than are
the Cleyelands. The Strauss cottage is
five minutes' walk from the hotel and
completely isolated. It stands in a
small clearing— a dark green structure
of the dry-goods box order of architect
ure with a narrow veranda across the
front. Dormer windows look out from
the roof and on the top is a small cu
pola surrounded by a picket fence. One
involuntarily recalls "the charge of the
light brigade" v he glances around at
the landscape— for there are woods 4t to
the right of them," woods "to the left of
them." and jn fact whichever way their
gaze may wander they will see nothing
but slender pine tree^ nodding and
bending with every breexe that blows
■ Dire Warning to Trespassers. ;
A board walk leads up to the little
cottage, but no one save the messengers
from the hotel dare venture to walk
upou it. There are signs on all the elec
tric light poles warning them off. The
tress are defaced by boards bearing the
inscription: ARE PRIVATE :
: TIIESE GROUNDS ARE PRIVATE :
! NO TRESPASSERS ALLOWED :
i IN THEM.
There is nothing said about boiling
oil or electrocution in caso of disobedi
ence, but every one is agreed that Mr.
Strauss is a determined man and that it
is best not to run risks.
When Mr. Cleveland left New York
with his family lie stated that they were
going away for rest and recuperation,
and that he hoped no one would break
iv upon their retirement. Indeed, he
hinted that they would not succeed if
they try to do so.
But to do them justice the -people of
Lakewood have respected the privacy
of the Cleveland cottage. Very few
people have attempted to trespass on
Mr. Strauss' private grounds. It is true
that more people are found promenad
ing in the eastern sun-parlor ot the
Lakewood than formerly, and that rock
ing-chairs are at a premium out there.
IJut they go no nearer.
Friday morning these watchers were
thrown into quite a flutter by seeing
Mr. Strauss' double phaeton, drawn by
two bay horses, turn the corner toward
the cottage. Bets were laid freely as to
whether Mrs. Cleveland or Baby Kuth
was going to take the air. Expectation
In a few minutes the carriage came
back, with Meseroe, the skillful coach
man, handling the reins with a sol
emnity and dignity due to the impor
tance of the occasion.
On the back seat of the phaeton was
Mrs. Cleveland in a smart tailor frock,
with her husband beside her. She was
chatting gayly and seemed in the best
of health and spirits. Their drive
lasted over an hour.
When Meseroe came back to the hotel,
after leaving his distinguished passen
gers at their home, he said Mrs. Cleve
land enjoyed the drive in the sandy, red
soil immensely, and appreciatively i
sniffed the balsamic odors from the
forest, drawing in health and strength '
with every breath. She talked and
laughed constantly with her husband; i
and both were in a gay mood. Meseroe
has orders to call for Mrs. Cleveland
every morning at II o'clock and take
her for a drive along the pretty country
roads which surround the little lake re
Bib} and Baby C'arriazp.
When the excitement of Mr. and Mrs.
Cleveland's appearance had somewhat
subsided the people ou the east veranda
returned to their papers, embroidery
and scandal. Suddenly some one leaned
forward and drew a long breath. Every
one look»d up.
Down the walk from the isolated cot
tage camu a l>aby carnage wheeled leis
urely by a nurse. Work was suspended
for the day, for Baby Uuth claimed
every one's attention, bhe had a lonu
outinir, beins wheeled through the vil
lage up to the lake.
. Many, women who met the nurse
"stopped and wked to aec the baby.
Every o:i<' was allowed to see !n*r.
"Why don't jron refuse tii^m'.'" asked
some on: 1 . "Don't you think them im
. : "Oil. no." sin* replied. "Mrs. Cleve
land woabl not like nu> to be rude to
anyone. Shedo^snot care if people
t see tli<" baby if they are nut auiioyini;. "
"Is it a S'»od iuby".'" so:na ona in
"Tlu- b -f in the world. She l:as her
nioih.-r's own sweet tenuK'i," \v.i-> -lite
But just t!i::i tin: nnid i':in*jht"/siik:
of a iiian o;i i!i*f curtirr with a iiiv>lit
iotis lujkir.^ bUioH box unJ^r his aim.
She took one look, pulled the umbrella
down quickly, turned the carriage
around and fled in an opposite direction.
Mrs. Cleveland may be willing that
people should see her baby girl, but
she is not willing that her little high
ness should be photographed until she
is quite ready.
Of Coarse She Is a Pretty Bii>>.
Little Knth Cleveland is a pretty
baby. She is plump, with a fair skin
and pink cheek 9. Her eyes are dark
blue, lifce Mrs. Cleveland's, and she lias
quite a quantity of light brown hair.
She is of a haooy temperament and
evidently likes attention, for she smiled
and shook her dimpled hands at the la
dies who bent down to worship at her
She is dressed very simply in little
winte cloak and cap and does not wear
a veil on her trips abroad.
Propped up in the cushions of her
carriage she looks about her philosoph
ically and views the scenery with a ju
Mrs. Cleveland does not like, colors
for babies and so little Ruth's wicker
carriage has umbreil.i and blankets of
cream white. A little white wooly robe
is tucked carefully over all.
The nurse is a staid, serious woman
of thirty-five or forty and is clad in
black with white collar, cuffs and mus
lin apron. On her head in the street
she wears a tiny black toque, as Mrs.
Cleveland does not oblige, her servauts
to wear caps on the street unless they
Quiet Family Life.
Mrs. Cleveland likes Lakewood very
much and thinks the air will do won
ders for her and the baby.
Mr. Cleveland is evidently enjoy
ing himself, too, for he has not
been up to the city since they migrated
down to Lakewood. There is a train
which leaves Lakewood every morning
at 8:30 and makes a quick run up to
Xew York. This is done for the accom
modation of the men who live in Lake
wood and have their business in the
city. But Mr. Cleveland has not yet
taken advantage of this train, although
a little knot of curious people gather at
the station every morning hoping to see
him oil. Mr. Cleveland is letting busi
ness take care of itself while he culti
vates the society of his wife and daugh
ter down among tlie pine woods.
There is an unusual interest felt in
Mr. Cleveland by the villagers and soci
ety people who are lounging around
Lakewood. Mr. Cleveland as president
of the CJntted States attracted consider
able attention, but Mr. Cleveland as a
father is far more interesting. People
are curious to see how he conducts him
self in this new role. They are anxi
ously awaitinz his first public appear
ance with his daughter. Indeed, there
is a rumor current that a certain well
known New York man staying at one of
the hotels has ottered $50 for a picture
of Mr. Cleveland with baby Uuth in his
Enterprising camera owners in the
neighborhood are anxiously figuring on
schemes to capture this desirable photo
graph. But their game is shy and wary.
Yesterday morning he sauntered into
The Lakewood fora few moments and
chatted with the clerk. There we.r<i very
few people in the office at that time, and
those lew, being women, did not recog
The Witchery of a >"ame.
Mrs. Cleveland is much interested in
the local history of the neighborhood,
and was curious to know the origin of
the word Carasaljo. which is the mu
sical name of tl.e little lake down there.
It was Meserve, the coachman, who
told her the story, and Meserve. the dig
nified, the reticent, felt very much em
barrassed at having such a homely tale
to explain that melting. Spanish-sound
ing name. He wished it were a pictur
esque and romantic letrend.
But it was only a plain Jersey story of
a man who once owned all that tract of
land about Lnkewood. including the
lake, which is scarcely more than a
good-sized mill-pond. Some one sujr
gested to the farmer one day that this
tiny sheet of water should be dignified
by a nice-souudinc title.
The farmer acquiesced and set his
wits at work to lind a ninie. Three
children graced the old man's home and
kept liis heart young. Three lovely
daughters, Carrie, Saliie and Josephine.
It occurred to the Jerseyman to chris
ten the lake after them, and after some
severe mental exertion he arrived at
the name Cara-sal-jo, a contraction of
all three names, and by this name the
lake has been called ever since. All
this amused Mrs. Cleveland very much,
for she has the delightful faculty of
finding amusement and entertainment
in everything about her, no matter how
She finds pleasure in her drives
around the country, comfort from the
presence of her husband and happiness
in the thought that her bonny, blue
eyed baby girl is thriving, and I dare
say in the thought, also, that an admir
ing and affectionate nation prays tor
the happiness and welfare of little
Both Cleveland and her beautiful
AX ACTRESS' APPETITE.
She Craves Stimulants With the
Thirst of a Tigress.
E DON'T have
to look far in
New York for
from that city.
To us in tbe
audience an act
ress seems to be
a bundle of
Huffy silk gar
wiih lace and
life is rounded
up every night
with a marriage.
The wreath of
i i placed o v
the head s i x
evenings in the
week exclusive of matinees. If slu*
ever weeps we all. know that it will
come out all right in. the end. so there
is no necessity of feeling sorry for her!
Alas, such is the outward show only.
Appearances are so deceiving. The
lite of an actress of the sort in question
(.and. of course, such ones are a very
small minority) runs to grooves like the
scenery of. her plays. Being so often
mechanical soon transforms her, body
and soul, into a machine. There is
no vitality or spontaneity to this
human machine. When it runs
down artificial means must be used to
wind it up and it set going again. The
actress started herself with alcohol.
Her mother and her husband shuddered
when a new role was assigned to this
flesh and blood machine of which they
were the engineers, Immediately every
bottle of wine, every liacon of cologne,
every bit of bay rum or toilet water -in
a word, every drop of liquid having al
cohol—must be put away out of her
reach, for such nervous condition did
tttßintense application superinduce that
the actress craved stimulant with a
thirst that transformed her into a little
tigrfess. Yet to allow her the use of it
meant ruin to her voice, toher power of
imitation, to her genius, if it may be
caned such. She needed to be watched
dajSand night lest she might eat or
dmitv something that would injure
her health or increase her nervous con
dition, and, when denied what she
craved, she fouaht literally with tooth
and nail, the traces of which would
often be left upon the hands and faces
of her keepers. At times she would
throw hi'rs-lf upon the lioor, and with
violent outcries absolutely refuse to tr<»
on with th;' study of her role. Then
came p!< -ad from her - Irtisbnnd and
te.irs friMU Itei mother. Nothing but
tii« jnoiiiis'.* <>r' a glass of ~ sherry and
bitters <>r brandy and nada would bring
i!i-r o'ir of such a lit as this. Bui at this
(mini let Bd dr.iw th«; enrtatn nharpetly.
A .Spiniiin<j-\Vhcsl Hat Flack. •
A writer in an exchange OTM direc
tio:i.s for roarertin^ a.i <>..i f isptoau.l
sp:n:ii:i'jr .whuiM hu<> a ii.it v\c.i. bite
i>e::;:is i<y .sayiiiir:
1\: -t <>l ail, ns » iu'lmrotirhly '.'••: : ! - M
cu,i.a. DUXtunswl luryjiuj-u- auJ Lua.-ca
Highest of all in Leavening Power. U. S. Gov't Report, Aug. 17, 1889,
JSr at\w^^ Bsv^^ til VyM. 1
oil, afterward rubbing with an old silk
handkerchief. This treatment will
clean and polish it, bringing out the tine
grain of the wood .
Next, get from the dealer in fancy
hardware as many brass lint hooks as
there are spokes in the wheel. These
should be nther heavy, and as stylish
in shape as you can possibly get.
Screw each one in the rim of the
wheel in tiie exact center and di
rectly opposite a spoke, only be care
ful to place them so that "when the
wheel is hung upon the wall they
will all be "plumb" in the same direc
tion. At the back, also in the rim of
the wheel, a strong ring must be fast
ened to support it upon a nail driven
into the wall. The hole that remains
through the hub of the wheel is easily
disposed of by driving into it a nail with
a very large rancy brass head, or a brass
If desiied. a row of small brass knobs
(knolihuaded nails) can be driven all
arouua the outer edtroof the rim, giving
a very ornamental finish to the whole.
The larger your wheel, the better is the
effect you can produce: it is easily made
into a handsome and useful article of
THE PERFUMES THEY USE.
Delu-ate Odor* Which Are Asso
ciated VViili Certain Belles.
New York Woriil.
1 1 vi^\\i 'Jill
I .MOST all liquid
form of perfume has
-riven place to the
Mehet in some form
— tucked in chair.
couch, head-rest, in
vase and wall-sock
et, in drawers and
desks and bureaus,
among the rugs and
portieres. A vague
sense of bloom, as
of wind blown over
a bed of flowers, is
which is never the
result of liquid
bags and layers are
placed under the
arms and in the
pockets of expensive
wraps when laid
away during mid
Anyone who over
pissed the niirht in
the well-kept home of Dill Nye, the
humorist, carried away the pleasant
memory of bees and new-mown hay
that breathed from the house linen, ft
is like lying down la a meadow in
springtime to get between Mrs. Nye's
clean sheets. Yet no one ever dis
covered a trace of perfume upon the
persons of the family.
Marietta Holly (.losiah Allen's wife)
favors white rose and loves to refresh
the face frequently with some poured
upon the palm of the hand. She insists
upon the very purest quality, however,
the slightest adulteration making her
really Hi. She does not affect handsome
Masks, but is content with the ordinary
Mrs. Arkell fairly revels in violet. So
dainty and flower-like is this little
creature that she seems like the flower
itself, exhaling its own proper perfume.
Mrs. (iillam adores mignonette, which
seems also to belong to her.
Mrs, Gen. MrClellan has an absolute
passion for the delicate Alpine blossoms
which grow close to the glaciers — the
Edelweiss and pink rhododendron. Her
love attributes to them a perfume they
do not in reality possess.
Miss Barrett, of Baltimore, in the
severe simplicity of her toilet discards
perfume as an adjunct. The luxurious
house is pervaded, however, by the fra
grance of perfect care and wholesome
ness, and from the profusion of fresh
cut flowers, the product of the line (lar
rett greenhouses. Mrs. Robert Oarrett
of lafe uses sparingly a rare Persian
fragrance which she found on the last
journey abroad with her husband.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox, who is a per
fect perfume fiend in its most subtle
and fascinating conditions, has invented
a system of little mats which she makes
with her own hands. Upon a layer of
cotton, she shakes a layer of powder,
usually heliotrope or violet, encloses
tnis between layers of silk or cheese
cloth, sews up the edges and catches
stitches through with colored silks.
These she lays as carpets in desk and
bureau drawers which are ever grottos
of sweet perfume. Everj article in her
possession is pervaded by an intangible
flowerlike fragrance. Even scraps in
the waste basket may be recognized as
hers. She is ever ou" the outlook lor a
new and subtle odor. Her favorite is
Chypre. She is also fond of wild olive,
sweet orchid and carnation.
Mrs. William Hunt, whose daughter's I
wedding to Arthur Mechler, of the i
United States army, a couple of years i
ago, was an event in the circles of the
"four hundred.'" scorns liquid deluges,
but breathes ever a moderate
and ladylike odor of heliotrope. Mrs.
Meehlera charming boudoir in Wash
ington suggests lily of the valley. She
has little packets made on purpose in
her clothes, into which she stitches per
On the occasion of the visit of the '
Medills to liis holiness the pope, it is
said that the delicate essence of wiid
olive worn by the ladies rose above the
incense-laden atmosphere of the place.
Mrs. John Lawrence is stirred to tears
by the breath of t lie Parma violet. "A
memory perfume," she cails it. "It
carries me back'to the cycle of my flor
escent incarnation." it recalls to her
memories of Southern France and Italy
and the Alhambra. where, in the lus
cious moisture of the Lmdaraxa gar- j
dens, they grow in such abundance, j
their fragrance pouring upwards and <
drifting across the table upon which
Washington Irving wrote his "Tales of
the Alhambra," and upon which, with
tfie consent of a well-bribed custodian,
she was privileged to indite her •'Chron- !
icles." So richly variegated is her ex- 1
istence that one is not surprised to find !
faded bunches of the sweet flower, mus- I
lin bags filled with wiid sweet clover,
and pretty tiavi-ling bottles scattered
amongst her trunks and baggage.
Mrs. Paran Stevens spares neither
attar of rose nor the liquid. Heavy Turk
ish perfumery exhales from her furuish
Mrs. Charles Ilarrison, the fair Phila
delphian, (uiece of Senator Richard !
Vaux. who had the honor of "dancing [
with the queen") whose husband was '
spoken of as successor to Thorndike I
Rice, our minister to Russia, is a whole- j
some-looking woman of beautiful pres- ]
ence and severe cleanliness. She has I
satohet-pads, bags and boxes in pro
fusiou of color and shape. Perfumes
delicate to elusiveness permeate her ■
nerson and >urn>undings. .She is the |
cousin of Mrs. <ie:>rge Boker, the leader
of society club dancing in Philadelphia. '
the two being known as "Ethel and '
Elsie." The latter adores the perfume
of pinks iii all its aromatic variety.
Mrs. Coßcressmafi Bclden, an ex-!
trcm.-'y coiiv^ntio-.iai fashionable •
woman", of careful grooming and excel
lent tasle, is a fnval iovx?r ot perfumes.
She i!.>i>is upon tke choicest quality,
but is not restricted to any Darticuiur
Mrs. Van Zsndt. wife of the ex-gov
ernor of l.'li'xle Island, ic.iv be recalled
by a faint-fragrance or fttbrrose, drawn
from the creamy btoasom in her neatly
butioiiftl black corsage.
Mr-. IV. widow of Samuel Colt, of i
rcvuir« fame, la »o au^sesUve of
canielias that had that flower a perfume
it would certainly belong to her.
The late Mrs. Livingston, moMier of
Carroll Livingston, was one of the
proudest, most distinctive and aristo
cratic of women. She retired from fash
ionable society partly through delicate
health and partly because "Americans
speak in sucli a nasal and slovenly
manner," One of tlio features of her
secluded life in the elegant Livingston
manor house up the Hudson, was the
making of an excellent decoction or
rose leaves and essential oils, which
was stirred, turned and potted in a rare
old Liurazes potpourri jar with a prized
"Apostle spoon. ''
Of other perfume lovers who carry
about them tlie indescribable odor of
flowers may be named Kosina Yokes,
Ada Rehan, Mrs. James Brown-l'otter,
Mrs. Van Rensselaer Cruder, Mrs. Pierre
Noel, Ameiie Rives and .Mrs. Berry
The Women's Seal.
New York World.
Hereafter the writing material and
all the orders, receipts, documents and
business papers of the board of lady
managers of the world's fair will bear
ihe new seal of the commission. The de
sign, originated by Mis* Uodtker. of
South Chicago, represents the old flag-
Ship of Christopher Columbus resting
on thecoit-of-armsof the United States,
and encircled by a wreath of laurel.
Scattered over the field are little stars
in lelief, identical in number witli the
members of the board. Reams ot note
paper have been ordered by the ladies
for correspondence, and each sheet
bears the prize seal. The success of
Miss Bodtker has increased the value of
her work 50 per cent and more than
doubled it in quantity.
A Reformed Baby.
New Voric World.
Little Annie Jenness Miller is a thor
oughly reformed baby and the talk of
all Evanston. She does not wear cor
sets, bustles or waists of any sort stif
fened with whalebone, and there is not
a pin of any sort in her makeup. The
divided skirt takes the place of the long
dress ana the barrie coat of the non-re
formed infant is supplanted by flannel
ieglets. No amendments have been
made to Miss Jenness Miller's little in
sides, and she can howl like a school
yard and engulf provision like a Chicago
New York World.
Every girl who has just come from
England within the last month wears on
dull days an ulster with a lons cape
that reaches halt a yard below her
A dress that has for trimming a broad
band ot material around the bottom,
different from the upper part, is pretty
sure to have received this addition to
make it long enough to suit the pres
Forty dollars a yard would seem to be
a rather still price for a brocade, but
that is the amount demanded, even id
Parfs. for the exquisite material which
shows flowers woven to look tike Gobe
lin tapestry in miniature.
Those who are wishful of seeing men
in fancy coats and knee breeches, and
calling this regalia evening dress, think
that the bicycling rage and the conse
quent adoption of knickerbockers will
help to make the change possible.
A lady who has heretofore contented
herself with sending out cards for
"days'' in one of the winter months,
says this year that it "looks green" not
to have a day printed on the visiting
card, but she considers it an awful boru
to stay at borne one day in every week.
A famous Englishman and physician's
recipe for making good tea is: '-Use
black China tea, putting in the old-fash
ioned teaspoonful for each person and
one for the" blessed pot. Then pour on
briskly boiling water, and within five
minutes pour it off again, or the tea will
be wicked instead of good.''
'Ihe distinguishing feature of a new
bonnet worn at a recent "Ladies' Day"
at one of the clubs whs very lona black
satin strings, quite three inches wide,
which were brought from the usual
point in the back, tied carelessly under
the chin, but sligntly toward the right,
with the ends left to daugle far below
It is not at all an uncommon thing for
artists studying abroad to make the
frames for their pictures. Of course,
the idea originated with them because
of lack of funds— necessity being the
mother of invention— but in this way
there are sometimes very unique and
Ingeniously made frames around the
pictures in the salon.
A very knowing young man said the
other day that he didn't believe there
was a woman in New York city who
could tell the difference between a
tailor-made suit and one that was sold
in a shop, "and what's more," he added,
"not many men can. outside of En
gland," and he looked at his own spick
and-span clothes with a very superior
air, as much as to say that hie was not
one of them.
Going up in an Eighth avenue car be
yond the park after dusk it is sometimes
very difficult to tell the number of the
streets passed, and the infrequent vis
itor is at a loss to know where she is.
Two Indies making this trip the other
night asked the conductor when he came
through to take the fares if he would
please stop at One Hundred and Third
street. The Hibernian nodded to them
in a most gracious manner, and replied:
"Ceitainly, it you will tfll me when we
Everybody hates bazaars and fairs,
aud yet it is well known that thorc is a
necessity for Riving something to most
people before they will consent to pay
out their money to various charities
and other good objects for which
contributions are demanded. A mem
ber of the aristocracy in England has
started a series of dances for sweet
I charity's sake, aud why may not these
j be organized here? Not on such a scale
! as the charity ball, but small dances of
( perhaps twenty couples. On these oc
j casions there might be little devices re
sorted to. for augmenting the sum ob
tained "jy the subscription lo t!ie dances.
Dry Goods Economist.
Military capes of fur.
Fichus '"real" lace,
i English coats of box cloth,
j Yellow (bright at that) ties.
White suede kid gauntlets,
j Serge in verj lig,ht shades.
i Feather trimmings and boas.
1-ong boas of peacock's eyes.
A few embroidered dress patterns.
A feather niching for the neck.
Japanese »ilk fans, hand painted.
Pheasant boas, mulls and" toques.
• Any kind of bat tliat becomes you.
Tea gowns of silk having lace capes.
Tucked fabrics of wool in cross lines.
Black net veils covered with Bin jets.
Toques having a pointed effect in
J .side combs of plain or gold-tipped
Black Japanese crepe fans for mourn-
Irish friezes for rough and ready
Amure silk portieres for ha;idsome
Biarritz gloves having a clasp at the
Oxford ties of black ooze ea!f for all
Swivnl handles of buckthorn: Cor ladies'
That is, we mean the
Prices. We cut so as to
enable you to make presents
for Xmas, and get them as
cheap as ever offered after
Xmas. Nothing makes
nicer presents. We offer
$175, Walking Goats.
- $350, Newmarkets.
Are they cheap? Well,
they are less than the skins
in them are worth to cut up
for repair work. But we
are caught "long on Seal,''
and must have our money
out, and you are the gain
ers. This is Fact, not fan
cy or buncombe. The bar
gains are actual, and we are
40 inches long, and well
worth far more. We have
also elegant Mink Reefers,
"let down" skins, tail bor
der, dark and handsome;
marked $150. They are
yours at $100. Buy one;
next season you'll pay $200
for same thing.
These we offer at Cut
Prices that it's needless to
state here; but only to say
they make Elegant Pres
ents, and that $5 to $25 will
do more, please better and
last longer than invested
any other way for a Xmas
Gift. Try a set.
But You- don't pay for
them. We want to unload,
and are willing to pay for
ink to tell you so, but are
too wise to fool you after
paying for "ads" to get you
here. Our Bargains are
genuine, and you can buy
Fine Furs Cheap of
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