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- ' ' THE SU ?)iwn ft came dancing. dancing. Straight from the land of light, la through a poor attic window, Making the darkuess bright. danced off a broken mirror On to an old arm-chair, L- ' Lit up a pale-faced sufferer, Wearily tossing there. Brought with it hone and gladness, Soothing the restless boy. Lulled him to sleep with bright visions, \\ his] ered of health and joy. ' I IN A COT' Si By ALBERT * UK long freight-shed was ^ _ Jg filled with goods of every <5 C description. Through the li K open doors on one side you locked into the dark interiors of a line of empty cars: through similar doors on the other side you saw a row of loaded jiggers and express wagons. Foreman Carruth. whose duty it was to bring order out of all this confusion, seemed to be everywhere at once, directing, exhorting, reproving, his eyes, ears and tongue all busy at the same time. "Here. Jim. put those steel rods in the corner of that B. & A. car! They're going up to Caribou. Come on with those tierces of lard, boys! If you don't move faster, they'll melt before you get 'era out of the shed. Hustle, everybody! These cars'll be pulled out at eleven." Down tho ?tr?nc frnm t)ir? of tlio upper end of the slied came a hiling clerk with a small brown note book in his hand. Tnis he passed to the foreman, who immediately raised his Toice in a shout to a blaek-haired young Irishman, who was taking account of the incoming freight two doors away. ' Here's a job of blind checking for yon. Dan! Go down to track five with this cotton book, and count the bales in those eleven cars for the Leadbetter Mills. Get back as soon as you can. I'll take your place at the door while you're gone. Daniel Rarrigan received the book from the hand of his superior, walked rapidly down the shed, and stepped into the freight yard. It was quarter past eight on a foggy April morning, cne of those drizzly spring days when everything is damp and sticky. A thick mist hung over the yard. Invisible shifting engines puffed here and there, with much clanging of bells and shrill of whistling. With senses on the alert, the freight handler crossed the tracks, carefully avoiding the frogs and switches. His destination was the extreme end of the large yard, a full quarter mile from the shed. Presently the square end of the first car that was to be tallied appeared through the fog. Harrlgan consulted his hook to make sure that he lsad the correct number. Trent up to the door, and broke the little seal of lead and wire. The interior was filled with cotton hales, each weighing about live hundred pounds. They were covered with burlap, and encircled by steel bands put on under hydraulic pressure, typical specimens of the thousand sent yearly from Southern plantations to Mow England mills. < As the staple was quoted at twelve cents a pound, and as from forty to sixty bales were loaded into each car. its coutents had an average value of 1hree thousand dollars. A mistake in the tally, resulting in the addition or omission of a single bale would .make a difference of perhaps $G0. ( The teams from the Leadbetter Mills on the outskirts of the city would begin to empty the cars that afternoon, and it was customary for the railroad to take careful account of all goods before delivery. Then, in case a shipment ran short, the company would be : ble to shew that the blame must be placed elsewhere. The task of counting the cotton was a responsible one, and Foreman Carruth had put his best man on the job. Harrigau climbed to the top of the bales. They were from five to five and a half feet long, something under a yara wiue. auu iwrmymu iv twenty-six inches thick. They were set on end. three abreast; and as the distance from floor to roof was approximately seven feet and a half, an empty space of two feet was left above their tops. Forward crawled the tallyman on his hands and knees, taking note of each separate bale with his- fingers, and registering it mentally at the same tin:?. By the system of 'blind checking" under which he worked, onlj the car numbers were set down in the note book handed to him. aud he was given no inkling as to how many bales he was expected to find. When the result of his labors was reported at the office, the clerks there compared it .with the way-bills. The first car contained fifty-four bales. Harrigau dropped to the ground, entered the number in his book aud closed the door, lie then broke the seal of the next car. In a few minutes he had finished his work in this car also, and charged fortyeight against it. Five cars more were examined without special iucident. With a strong jerk Harrigau broke the sea! of the eighth car. shoved the door open just enough to allow his body to pass, and was soon scrambling in the darkness over the buriapped ends. As the roof was lower than those of the oilier ears, there was barely eighteen inches of open space, and his progress was much slower. On through the gloom crept the freight handler, lingering the rough edges, and counting in an undertone as ha made his tally. "SBteen?seventeen?eigliteen?" IIis head oumped against a cross-beam of the roof, and he stooped low to pass beneath it. "Nineteen?twen?" The l.fst number was never finished, but died away in a muffled cry of surprise and consternation; for the twentieth bale was not there! > The two hands that he thrust forward. expecting to strike burlap, tfeched nothing. Down pitched ELar/ rjf&u head foremost into a cavity just -v ' r * -e NBEAM. And to a far-off country. Washed by refreshing streams, Guided bis slumbering spirit Into the land of dreams. Then when its task was over, Softly lioatcd away. Back to its home in the sunshine, Its mission fulfilled that day. Oh! to be like that sunbeam. Shedding forth light and love, Then when our labor is ended. To pass to the light above. ?A. I. Buchanan, in Indianapolis News. w i A I?N I UN-UAK i ? I W. TOLMAN. V,5 s?" largo enough to admit his bodj. IIo cauglu unavailing!}* with his lingers at the coarse bagging, but so well had the hydraulic press done its work that he could grasp 110 slack in his frantic clutellings, and his course was not arrested till he struck the hard wooden floor. The sudden shock doubled up his finger tips and drove back his hands. IJis head came down upon the planks with a stunning crack that made him for the momeut half-insensible. When the car was being loaded at Memphis, there had been found in shipment one bale considerably broad than the others. It was placed at of* end of the seventh row from the door, and a bale of ordinary size was put at the other end. The space between the two was of necessity left vacant, as it was not broad enough to admit another bale. This formed the cavity into which, two weeks later. Daniel Harrigan was unlucky enough to fall. For perhaps thirty seconds the young Irishman remained Inactive, recovering from the effects of the blow upon the top of his skull. Ilis cap had been pulled on so tightly that it had not fallen off when he plunged downward; hence it slightly broke the force of his fall. With x-eturning consciousness, : however, he began to feel a shooting pain in his temples. The second finger, too. on his right hand had been severely sprained, and the nail split down to the quick, so that it was bleeding freely. The ful^ weight of his body resting upon the crown of his head strained the neck muscles severely, and he struggled to raise himself on the palms of his hands. The change of position had a very unexpected result. All the contents of his pockets poured down upon the floor under his nose in a jangling cascade. He could hear the copper and silver coins and his jack-knife clinking together on the planks. His watch slipped from its place, and hung dangling in his very face. The situation had a ludicrous as well as an unpleasant side. How should he ever pick up all that loose change from tlie floor? Evidently the first tiling, however, was to restore his heels and his head to their normal positions. Harrigan did not anticipate any special difficulty in doing this. But when he strove to bend his body over, so that he might stand upright, he found that the cavity was too confined to permit it. His shoulders almost touched the bales on each side, while the one over which he had just crept projected so far forward that the open space was barely eighteen inches from front to back. It was. if anything, a little larger at the bottom than at the top. and this increased the difficulty oJ his undertaking. He tried to push first one bale and then the other a little farther away, to gain more room, but all to no avail. His efforts finally convinced him that his only way of escape was to lift himself upward and backward, until he could regain a position on the top of the cotton. The checker lifted himself at arms' length on the palms of his hands, and tried to stick the tips of his toes into the space between the two bales bohind him: but lie could not reach back far euougb. He ran bis fingers up and down the rough burlap, seeking some loose place, but finding none. So long as he could push with his hands against the floor he could raise his body: but once at arms' length, he hr.d nothing to press against, as the bales afforded no handhold. His strength was of little service. for it could be exerted only through a few inches of space. By this time it had dawned upon Harrigan that he was in a very serious dilemma. The blood had flowed into his head and arms in su^h abundance that it had become positively painful. He seemed to be growing all pulse. Once more he exploreiP the surface of the bales with his fingers, but found it absolutely unyielding. Those who know cotton only as a soft, fluffy substance can have no conception of the hardness it assumes under the compress. No. there was no chance to get hold of the burlap; but in one place, where there was a slight hollow, he was able to press bis finger tips down 011 the edge of a steel baud. Insignificant as the leverage was. it enabled him to raise his body. Cautiously he worked his way up and backward. His knees were almost on the top of the bale; another effort, and he would be safely out of his predicament. But as he pushed with all his might ou the sharp top of the steel Ko hi'c flr fro??c el mnA^ n % I. a wio uu^cio Vu. x/un 11 lit* fell, and again 'bis hands rested on the floor of the car. , Harrigan at las' realized that his life was actually in peril. If iio could not get out now, when his strength was practically unimpaired, what chance would he have later! With numb fingers, swelled by the inrushing blood, he fumbled once more up and down the cotton. He found the band on which he had raised liiinseif before, and strove to repent his attempt; but be fell heavily back, this time striking on his head. A train rumbled by. shaking the ground and making the car tremble under him. He heard two brakemen calling out to each other, and tried to attract their atenttiou; but his voice was smothered in that narrow cavity. A heavy, painful drowsiness was creeping over the freight handier, a strange, dull apathy that frightened him. His strength was gradually ebbing away. The part of his body below, ^ > 1 , i-1 im for rather, as now situated, above his waist, was losing its feeling. The blood surged through his brain so strongly that it threatened to deprive him of consciousness. Insensibility was coining on. and insensibility meant death. Harrigan's toes wore almost on the top of the bale over which he had crept. He had only to raise himself a little more tnan two feet to have his bootsoles touch the ceiling behind the beam he had crawled under. By pressing the backs of his heels hard against this beam he could get sufficient leverage to help himself out. The distance was trifling, but there seemed absolutely nothing be could grasp to lift himself with. Again he felt blindly along the bale in front of him. and thrust his fingers into the spaces between it and the adjacent bales on each aide. When cotton leaves the compress, the burlap on the eilges that have been lowest in the press is tight to the point of bursting. while that about the upper edges is much looser. Fortunately for Ilarrigan. the two corners turned toward him. as the bale stood on end, Avere those round which the covering .was lose. This apparently trivial circumstance saved his life. The corners gave him something to grip. Numbed and swollen though his fingers were, he found that by pressing them hard against his palms he could gather in a very respectable handful of the bagging. This gave him purchase enough to lift his weight. liaising his hands very gradually and hardly daring to breathe, inch by inch lie worked himself up and back in agony, clutching the coarse edges with desperate caution. To slip back now would be fatal. Little by little he pushed his toes back over the bale behind him. He lifted one of his heels, and it touched the beam. In a moment it was pressed behind the firm wood. A little more, and he would lie safe! Shifting liis grasp with almost imperceptible movements, be raised liis body slowly and painfully. Red lights danced before his eyes; the roaring of the ocean was in his ears. Up. up. up! If lie could only keep his senses a few seconds more! His body was now well over the tops of the bales behind him, but he did not dare to let go yet. One handful more, one hurried, violent thrust that sent him back from the edge of the dangerous cavity, and. safe at last, he fainted dead away on the top of the cotton.?Youth's Companion. JPflfBfKfflWAkllPS V Ul L11U u A quite extraordinary combination of merits, is claimed in France for a new explosive, which consists of a mixture of powdered aluminum and nitrate of ammonium. It is not liable to spontaneous combustion, cannot be prematurely exploded by shock or friction, burns only with difficulty, is not affected by frost or dampness, and the gases from its explosion are harmless. An inventor lias hit upon a method of putting what are practically stone soles on boots and shoes. He mixes a waterproof glue with a suitable quantity of clean quartz sand and spreads it over the leather soles used as a foundation. These quartz soles are said to be very nropttMllv indestructible. ?>* " ? anil to give ihe foot a firm holikeven on tho most slippery surface.?Chicago Journal. Aluminium-coated paper, made in Germany for wrapping food substances. is prepared by applying a thin coat of au alcoholic solution of resin to artificial parchment, then sprinkling aluminium powder over the surface, and finally submitting te pressure. The artificial parchment is paper that has boon treated with stiipnurjc acm. The aluminium paper is not attacked by the alt* or by fats. The carious dread of cats that has been studied for three years by Dr. S. Weir Mitchell, of Philadelphia, may open up a wide Hold for investigation. An advertisement brought 13!) replies from different countries ? including Germany. Egypt and India?and about two-thirds of them mentioned cases of fear of cats, the others referring to asthma from eats. This asthma, due to odors, may be excited by the presence of horses, dogs, cats or sheep, or even of roses, apples, oranges or bananas. The catphobia comes instantaneously, and may be very severe, catalepsy having'uevebped in cue case, and temporary LilJidaess in another. ? . .>*, :r*? In the examination of food subsiances and other materials, microscopists often find it necessary to compare two slides. This soon becomes very tedious by the usual method of substituting one slide for another or using duplicate microscopes, and a laborious study of starches, fibers, etc., has led two English investigators to devise .1 much simpler process, xue new idea is .1 piece of apparatus known as the Ashe Finlayson compara. scope. The second slide is placed upon a horizontal rod attached to the side of Hie nosepieee of the microscope, and a mirror and lens project the image into the nosepiece. where an inclined reflector deflects the rays up the microscope tube. City *. Country Eye*. In one of his delightful books Dr. Jossopp remarks that whereas country people look up. Londoners look down. It is largely this habit that has limited their observing powers; but London has itself to blame. I take it that one can observe well only by the power of taking large views, and in London this is impossible, even 11 one | would, partly iron; the circumscribing | effects of brinks and mortar, partly from the dim light of a London distance. and ~>avtly from the need of avoiding eo .isions. One's eyes unconsciously ay^uire a habit of restricted vision: rir observation specializes, like that Nvthe little girl in Mrs. Meyncll's book who iieguiled the tedium of her walks by collecting shopkeepers named Jones. Perhaps that is the kind of observation for which we in London are best suited.?London Outlook. Thrr* Was a Leak. ' I take my pen in hand " he wrote. It was a fountain pen, and he got no further.?Kew York Sun. ipp fmmmmm* The Good Itcada Proposition. -MOW. HE press of the country in ^ nil directions is urging at0 n* o tention to the question of V national aid to good roads. Sro*r The proposition as embodied iu the Brownlow-Latiuier hills has now been under discussion long enough to he well understood, and the demand for its adoption as a national policy is growing in every quarter. The rirst of these hills was introduced in the House hv Hon. AY. I'. Brown Ion*, of Tennessee, and the other in the Senate by Hon. A. 0. I.atimer. of South Carolina. The hills are practically the same, both seeking to bring in the United States as a co-operative factor in the systematic construction and improvement of the highways, the Covernment to supply a sum equal to the sum any State will supply up to the maximum provided for. In a speech in Congress on his bill Representative Brownlow declared that a general plan of co-operation would have to be resorted to in order to fairly distribute the burden of taxation necessary to adequately improve the highways, and added this foreeul point: "So long as we pursue the original mctjlod of taxation the entire burden of Jost for highway improvement falls ujon the owners of agricultural lands and the persons living in the rural districts. When the great mass of the people lived in the rural districts this was a just and equitable distribution of taxes for such purposes, but with the changed conditions of the present day. when one-half of the people live in cities, and much more than one-half of the wealth is concentrated in these cities and in the corporations that are so powerful at the present time, it is absolutely necessary that some means should be devised whereby the revenues requisite for the great improvement that is called for should be derived from all of the people and resources of the country as nearly as possible, and not rest, as heretofore, upon the farming classes, who are the immediate losers by every failure of crops and sufferers by every decline in price of agricultural products/' About one-third of our people bear the total cost of the construction and improvement of the common roads. They are the people of the country districts. who constitute the mud-sill upon which is built the political and Industrial development which is our boast. To them, in a larger degree than any other class, we owe the magnitude of the position t which we have attained along all iines. Upon tlrem the heavy fcand of taxation falls relentlessly. They never dodge the tax gatherer, hut bear the largest proportion of the burdens of government, and receive tjiivoiUest of its benefits. It Is an unjust and unequal distribution of the burdens and benefits of government, and it is to correct in a measure these inequalities and hardships that the bills under discussion are being urged by the people everywhere The 1'nacl. A road is like a vrork of art?it incites the imagination. In this I contend that it is an educator of no mean worth. It promises a healthy interest in the brain, and scraps of wisdom may be found scattered along the- way for those who will to pick up. There are as many sorts of roads as there are many kinds of books, each sort tilling its place. The grand turnpike, with its tine estates, speaking of wealth; the country byways hinting modest contentment and ease; the toll road, with its gate and its wayside inn for travelers; the river road, following the stream, now giving glimpses of the broad sweep and now but sparkles of light through the foilage as the trees obstruct the view. There is the billy road where on? loses the view of the highway ahead as it dips down into the valley, only to rise with a ne.r/m n further hill, and the llMltll wood road with its continent paths and trails. One of the strongest hires Is the road built at a time when it was easier to go around or over a hill than through it; better to find a safe ford than to plunge anywhere into the stream or build a bridge. The highway which goes straight from or.e point to another is a scientist and not a poet. It may be a line servant, but as a friend and companion give me the meandering road, with its constant surprises, its up hill and down dale, Its sunshine and shadow. One which may be seen a mile ahead may be a fine speedway, but it is not capable of reusing the imagination. ? Walter K. Stone, ia Recreation. % The Cltj Proflf. Oneida County has unanimously approved the issue of $50,(XX),000 heads for Improving the country thoroughfares. The State meets the county half way. and all the highroads are promptly improved. As Now York is located in counties, we are free to take advantage ol' the same law. There are roads within the city limits that need repairnuvh as the worst uiud Ill v; UUlil- ? ; ..... holes in the Adiroudachs.?Town Top{ ics. r.H<1 ICoail Building. An exchange puts it this way: There Sht to be a law to slop fools buildrni?r highways. This idea that the outer edge of a highway?sod, dirt and stone, all?should be thrown into the centre of the road, ought to entitle the people who do It to ninety days in I The Tyranny of Fohlon. . 7 "I have just come iiuuitr, uuu ??. i?.?. fashions seem so queer." So remarked Mrs. Archibald Little, authoress and traveler, to the Society of American Women in London yesterday. "When," the speaker added, "I saw that every woman's dress opened up behind, it se?ined to me that another worry had been added to life, even to that of poor man. Can't we women look beautiful in dresses that open In front? And must our hats all require three pins or more, and must they always be set askew?" Mrs. Little appealed to American women as leaders of fashion to consider whether current feminine attire was calculated to impress the beholder with respect.?London Telegraph. I I I Thtoki to "The Smart." The smart woman, bitterly villified as she is, always has been anil always will be, is the biggest of blessings in one way, and that is her encouragement of trade.?The Queen. Bead Work Mnch in Evidence. Bead work of all sorts conic up surprisingly this season. They and their cousins, the spangles, are used in profusion for all sorts of purposes. In millinery hats are edged with beads both in jot and colors, and festoons of beads are mingled with the laee which is sn nmcli employed for brims and edgings. Bead embroideries done 011 velvet, silk or cloth are very smart for all sorts of dress and millinery purposes, while the short bead collar pieces and long bead lorgnette chains are very much worn by smart women here. The chains, of course, are not at all the hideous things one sees on bargain counters, but line, artistic combinations specially designed. Apron*. Make a square of Persian lawn, twenty-four inches when finished, trimmed with tucks and lace around the edges. From the middle of each side make a diamond square of beading: cut six yards of ribbon into four lengths, and run them through the beading, leaving it very loose on three sides and drawing it quite tight on the fourth, to give a little fulness at the waist line of the apron. Make hard knots at all four corners, and then tie double bowknols. By lifting these bows you can draw it up into a bag. But if you untie the bows, not the hard hows, at the ends of the shirred side, you have four long ribbons to tie about the waist. While sewing you have 011 what appears to be an ordinary apron with a pointed bib. When you stop you pile all your things into your lap, untie the ribbons about your waist, retie the bowknots, take bold of all four bows and drag it up into a bag.? Boston Traveler. Bookbinding a* Women'* Work. Since the first woman took it up, bookbinding has received a curious impetus. Each year sees a few more devotees of the art among women, who are peculiarly adapted for the work by their delicacy of touch. It takes a strong wrist and a steady hand for some of the finer tooling?in fact, for most of the work?l>ut when a woman's hand and wrist become trained she becomes more adept, as a rnle, than a man. Nobody quite equals, after all, that great master bookbinder, Cobden Sanderson, who refuses all but a talented few of the many who apply to him for lessons. His pupils must agree to stay with him the iength of time he dictates, or he will have none of them. There's a limited field for bookbinding, as there must always be with any art that takes great refinement and an almost scholaily taste to appreciate. Yet the women who have made a success of it, above all, those who are able to make their own designs for covers as well as execute them, have as much as they can comfortably do. And the work pays well.?Chicago News. The Dinner Coat. There is more than a little to say in favor of the dinner coat, which has added itself to the long list of separate garments of the present day wardrobe. Th? dinner coat is essentially a variation or play on the Louis XVI. coat adapted to indoor usages. It is at its best, in fact, it is only consistently made, of brocaded silk. The long, tall, big revers, and courtly looking cuffs flaring upward from the elbow are salient characteristics. The tails are narrow enough to just escape being seen from the front. They fall nearly or quite to the hem of the gown, and are, perhaps, smartest when they are rounded at the ends into what has been described as a spoon shape. The scantiness of the sleeves ir offset by the flaring elbow cuff and the wide revers. Old silver or paste buttons are essential. The woman with a brocaded silk gown folded away for many a day will find use for it now in these separate jackets, wbicn are 01 clivers suapeo and kinds. With sleeves of different material from the bodice possible short lengths come into excellent employment. A dinner coat designed to accompany two skirts, one of plain amethyst velvet. the other of palest mauve chiflTon very fully pleated, Is made of pale amethyst silk, brocaded with roses in a deeper shade of amethyst and brightened by the inter-weaving of fine silver threads. The coat has a bertha of point de Venise lace, laid over amethyst velvet. The waistcoat is of silver tissue, trimmed with flat buttons of amethyst crystal, covered with silver filagree. -The coat is perfectly suited to the matron who wears it. It is being copied in white satin, brocaded "v^ith a I pompadour design of pink roses for a debutante, "who will wear it over a white point d'esprit skirt and a white chiffon skirt.?Philadelphia Telegraph. Who Sets the Fashions? "What is the use in our waiting around the anterooms of the great dressmakers to see whether this or that fabric, and how much of it. is to be worn? Money can do anything. Let ns show a proper sum to two or three of these satraps of the mode, tel! them *? tsK 4-b Air) OTlH that we win "stano in ivim mciu, publish to the world that certain fabrics?our fabrics?are to be fashionable; that skirts are to be longer, that hats are to be raoie flamboyant, that trimmings are to be more abundant, that ribbons must be continued in favor: and that these little canons have come to stay. Is net business the heart of the world?and is it not a fact that the more of our commodities there are used the better will be our business? Let us bribe a few of the Idling actresses and singers, also? "d others who are considered mirrors of fashion?ami then our position is astf^i' rih'WrfiTifcj .<,1- j&j /r. j MMs ^ sured. Prosperity?magic word?sliall wait upon our footsteps and right merrily our spindles shall whirl. Let the < women groan under their masses of 3 drapery. Let their husbands scold at 1 the bills. What does that matter? AVe hold the whip-hand, and whither we 1 drive, the tiock must go."' 1 How long are women, the sensible in/1 tim 1 ns well ns the si 11V and frivolous, to endure this sort of j tyranny, who can tell? There is a sort ( of a law. unwritten but binding, that the woman who does not follow the fashion is unwomanly." that she shall walk in the valley of humiliation and eat the bread of sorrow. She may re- J fuse to don tin death-dealing corset, and give her digestion and her circu- j lation a fair chance to do their work, , but she must not tell in print how much better than other women's is her < health in eon sequence?for commerce < stands waiting to punish her just around the corner. During much of the : time?though now for a little she has a respite?she must give up the use of ' one hand, in order that she may carry this mass of drapery which the manufacturer has forced her to buy.# If she ' does not bold It up it drags through ! the mire. The microbes thus accumulated, so the doctors tell us. have j caused epidemics of grip and tubercu- , losis?but whflt matter? The great fashion trust must prosper, and as for ( the rc-st of us. a few of us more or less , is immaterial (which word might lead ] to a pun by one of a jocular turn of mind, who was not smarting under the i extortions of the trust).?Kate Upson Clark, in Leslie's Weekly. 1 Restricting Women's Clothes. The opera management at Co\t-nt i Garden regulates the dress of its male patrons. When is it going to do the same to "the women? On Saturday night I went to the op- 1 era. I wore the costume Imposed on me by the regulations of the house. I fully recognize the advantage of those regulations. Evening dress is cheap, simple, durable, prevents rivalry and extravagance on the part of male leaders of fashion, annihilates class distinctions, and gives men who are poor and doubtful of their social position (that is, the great majority of men) a sense of security and satisfaction that no clothes of their own choosing could confer, besides saving a whole sex the trouble of considering what they should wear on state occasions. But I submit that what is sauce for the gander is sauce for the goose. Every argument that applies to the regulation of the man's dress app-ies equally to the regulation of the woman's. At 9 o'clock a lady came in and sat down very conspicuously in my line of sight. She remained there until the beginning of ,the last act. I do not complain of her coming late and going early; on the contrary, I wish she had come later and gone earlier. For this lady, who had very black hair, had stuck over her right ear the pitiable corpse of a large white bird, which looked exactly as if some one had killed it by stamping on its breast, and then nailed it to the lady's temple, which was presumably of sufficient solidity to bear the operation. I ain not, I hope, a morbidly squeamish person; but the spectacle sickened me. I presume that if I had presented rayself at the doors with a dead snake round my neck, a collection of black beetles pinned to my shirt front and a grouse in my hair, I should have been refused admission. Why. then, is a woman to be allowed to commit such a public outrage? Had the lady been refused admission, as she should have been; she would have soundly rated the tradesman who imposed the disgusting headdress on her under the false pretense that "the best people" wear such things, and withdrawn her custom from him; and thus the root of the evil would be struck at; for your fashionable woman generally allows herself to be dressed according to the taste of a person whom she would not let sit down in her presence. I suggest to the Covent Garden authorities that if they feel bound to protect their subscribers against the danger of my shooting them with a blue tie. they are at least equally bound to protect me against the danger of a woman shocking me with a dead bird. ?G. Bernard Shaw, in London Times. /I / A \ ic* e bji ) ! Dress stuffs, organdies, and dimities and Swisses are selling. A parasol of blue silk?a strong shade of blue?lias a handle of blue-enameled wood. Ilaud-painted parasols are stunning, but the embroidered oues are s#ill more popular. Japanese styles are less good in themselves (though they're stunningi than as inspiration for other parasols. For "dress-up" gloves everything mousquetaire is liked?suede mousquetaire being the newest of all. Nowadays the riding skirt roaches barely to the instep, and is lighter In weight than the average walking skirt. All the talk about returning to bustles and crinolines becomes nonsense when the increasing rationality of fashion is observed. Several narrow silk ruffles stitched and corded in the hem have been found to fulfill the function of holding out the skirt quite successfully. Such good looking outing hats as the milliners are turning out! They're soft felt hats with soft wings?all pale gray or all white or gray and white together. The house in which Harriet Beecher Stowe lived for a number of years in Hartford is now being torn dowu to make room for the advancing factories. J SnS HK SEPTEMBER SEVENTEBNTH^^^H rhe Great Surrender. Acts 9: 1-zH^H Rom. 5: 16-23. Saul's blindness and his rocqyjjj^L tvere as nothing compared to the spi^ Itual blindness in which he bad been, md the spiritual vision he receivqfL rhe true blindness Is of the soul. There is no progress outside of [Ihrist, but as soon as one thoroughly -*ields to Christ, his strength increases 'rom day to day. ^ Nothing promises finer wages than sin, and though Satan cheats uptime ind again, how many go on w<$\lng 'or him to the last J "Heaven alone is given j^ray." jniy cue greatest 01 uiessmgs, ewnai ife, Is given freely, for no price tha^j^H :ould be paid would be adequate. Suggestions. jQflH Christ wishes to yield Himself en-SH irely to us, and thit is wiuf HefWahes is to yield ourselves %ntirely to > tfira. It is not our surrender, it is our promotion?not our defeat, but our ? rictory. We cannot be led; we have only :he choice of service, either of God 3r of the devil. Can we hesitate? We do not surrender liberty; we surrender slavery, and enter into the ? 'glorious liberty of the children of Sod." Illustrations. . If a man, in selling you a field, reserves the farther corner of it, he also has the right of way thither. So if Satan yields all your heart but one little corner, he has the right of way to that corner through your whole heart. An army, when it surrenders, lays down its arms. When we yield to Christ, we are to yield all that we have and are. A magnaminous victor returns the sword of his conquered foe. So Christ returns to us our surrendered pow ers. vastly enlarged and glorified. Christian Endeavor societies are *. springing up on ships of war and mef- j chant vessels, and in sailors' rest? ashore. The sailors make splendid Endeavorers. sincere and earnest. Those "Floating societies" need a close connection with the land forces, since they cannot In any other way ^ get the staying influences of the -J church. Every land society may nave, an and should have, some part in this work. You can correspond with some * * of the sailors. It is a wonderful help for a Christian sailor, amid a body of men. very few of whom are Christian, to have the support of some Christian friend, though at a distance. Yon can greet the sailors when they com* . ashore, and make them at home In your society. You can send good literature to the ships. MU LEAGUE LESSORS SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 17. The Great Surrender. Acts 9: 1-22; Rom. 6: 16-23. There is no contest more interesting and more important in Its results than the battle of a human soul with: its convictions. Saul of Tarsus Is a good type of the convicted sinner. The supernatural light, the audible voice, the outward phenomena are Incidental. The great fact is that GOd J9 met a soul and brought it face to JJ face with duty. Up to this hour Saul .48 may have been deceived. But now he knew he ought to surrender to $9 Christ. And he did. There comes to every soul the moment whqp he 'M must decide. And there comes to many, as there came to Saul, the full, complete, absolute surrender to Jesuft "jM which carries with it all future dtufcs and service. Notice such elements of this great surrender: Paul never reserved anything. He gave up absolutely to Jesus. There was no reserve to his surrender. It ,t-| embraced all his rife?all of his time i? and all of his days. It took in all the future. To his death nothing moved jsM him, for all was surrendered to Jesus. He delighted to subscribe him- v* spif as the "doulos." or slave, v of Jesus Christ. There may have betett J after-moments of special consecra-> tion, but it was all embraced by his -^1 "What shall I do, Lord?" There waa^M never a longing look backward, but a constaut pressing forward. Some surrender their time, their money, or their services to God. Paul f put it all in. It meant to him his time, his service, his thought, his alL It was a devotion to Christ as the devotion of a slave. He called nothing 4 his own. It meant prison, stripes, joudneyings oft, sacrifices many, poverty, pain, loss and death. God does not call all to such a rife as he lived, but he does call on us for a surrender ^ of the whole life to him. This surrender of Paul determined every action and service of the fu ture. It was the determining factor at |9 every turn in life. Once so surrendered, a soul has never a quarrel or ques- 4 tion with duty. Obedience becomes a habit. New details of consecration are easy. God's claims are never ques- a tioned. Such a great surrender makes Christian living easy. Only snch a a surrender can bring peace to the life J and the soul. Every soul should at once make this great surrender. Bath in Goldfield. "All trouble and inconvenience growing out of the scarcity of water in the new mining camps of Nevada is rapidly disappearing," remarked Oscar J. Smith, lawyer and capitalist < of Reno. "They have quite as much ^ water In Goldfleld now as will Satisfy | the requirements of the camp. rwas J| down at Goldfleld recently, and notic- .*1 ing a sign on a building which proclaimed the fact that baths were to be had there I went in and announced that I would like to get a bath. The fellow in charge handed me a ticket -J and took my money. " 'Well, see here,' said I, 'I don't want a bath ticket. I want a bath.' " Oh. you'll get a bath all right,* and the bathhouse manager. 'Let .me . see your ticket, No. 813. Th? re j about 812 people ahead of you.*ome around in about three or-four weeks."* 3 ?San Francisco Chronicle. There is a telegraph box in every -^l street car In Norway. Write messages, put on right cumber of stamp#? *: drop In the box. JH|