The news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1901-1982, September 13, 1905, Image 6
THE St
-a~ i cam zarcar. dac.nz,
:1raiht :romi tihe d of l Cght.
In through a pon:- att;e xindow,
' trjeo ffi la biroken irrr
Or ii An o 'llm . m;,
I ith lope and :'.ns,
1-::: hi to sle-p v*ith biLh. visolS,
W. -retd o. health an o.
E INACOT"
By ALBERT
with g.toIs of every
a dscrpti~i.Throughte
open dors ol one side you
lovked into the dark inmer
iors of a line oAf empty
cart througl sInilr doors on the
von saw a row of loaded
jigr :n XWexes wazgonS. 'C1Ueman
Carr-u:ih. xvhose duty it was to bring
ordi o: o all this confusion. seemed
to b.. t .erywhere at once. directing,
exihi:ing. reproving. his eyes. ears
an: oIngue all busy at the same time.
"Her'e. Jim. put those steel rods in
the eorner 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 'em out of the shed. Hustle,
everybody: These cars'll be pulled
out at eleven."
Down the steps from the office at 'e
Uprper end of the shed came a biing
clerk, with a small brown note book
in his hand. This he passed to the
foreman, who immediately raised his
voice in a shout to a black-haired
young Irishman, who was taking ac
.count of the incoming freight two
doors away.
"*Here's a job of blind checking for
you. 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 Zone.
Daniel Harrigan 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,
one of those drizzly spring days when
everything is damp and sticky. A
thick mist hung over the yard. Invisi
ble shifting engines puffed here and
tnere. 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 ear that was to be tallied ap
peared through the fog. Harrigan con
sulted his book to make sure that he
had the correct number, went tup to
the door, and broke the little seal of
lea~d and wire.
The interior was filled with cotton
bales, each weighing about five hun
-dred pounds. They were covered with
~burlap. and encircled by steel bands
lbut on under hydraulic pressure, typI
cal specimens of the thousand sent
yearly from Southern plantations to
%'W Engliand mills.
As the stape was quoted at twelve
tsa pounid. and as from forty to
sixty bales -rere loaded into each car,
its contents had an average value of
three thousand dollars. A mistake
in the tally, resulting in the addition
or omission of a single bale would
mxake a difference of perhaps $G0.
'The teams from the Leadbetter Mills
on the outskirts of the city would be
gin to empty the cars that afternoon,
and it was customary for the railroad
to take careful account of all goods
before delivery. Then, in c'ase a ship
Inent ran short, the company would be
:.hle to show that the blame must be
plar'ed elsewhere.
The task of counting the cotton was
a rt spon-sible one, and Foreman Car
ruth had put his best man on the
Harrigan climbed to tbr. top of the
bales. They were from ?.-ca e five
and a half feet long. something under
a yard wide. and twenty-two to
twenty-six inches thick. They were
set onr end, three abreast: and as the
distance from floor to roof wvas ap
proximately seven feet and a half. an
empty space of two feet was left
abovye their tops.
FoYrward erawled the tallyman on
huis hands and knees, taking note of
eac'h separate bale with his~ lingers,
anid registering it mentally at thle same
By' the system of 'blind checking"
under which lie worked, onlb the car
numbers were set down in the note
book handed to him, and lie was giv'en
no iukling ais to how many bales he
was expected to find. W'hen the re
su!1 of his labors was reported at the
citice. the clerks there comipar'ed it
.with the way-bills.
The first car' containedi fifty-fou:r
b~ale. Harrigan dropped to the
g:rm:1. ertered the nun:'ber ini his
book and closed the door. H~e then
broke the seal of the next car. In a
few minutes he had finished his work
in ti:2s car also, andi charged forty
eightr against it. Five car's more were
examined without sperial incident.
With a strong .ierk Harrigan broke
ii:e seni of the eighth ear. shoved the
doo-r opent just enough to allow his body'
toss,: and was soon sc-ramnblinag in
the darkness ov-er the burlapped ends.
As the roof was lower than those of
-the othier e'ars, there was barely (eigh
ta:; i::ehes of opcn space, and his
pixagrss was mnuch slowe'r.
On through the gloom c'rep t the
frig t andler. tingering the rough
edges, and counting in an undertone
as he made his tally.
--Sixteen-seventeen--ei.hteenl--" His
head bumped against a cross-beamn of
the roof, and he stooped lj', 10 pass
b.uo~ath it.
l1. die a.u.way in at mtihIel cry of sur
..p-s and conil-Isternu:nionl: for the twen
Yh~-L a: ot there:
Ti ltoinds ihait he thrust for
we (\i.~ exp-t to strik' buarap.
rNBEAM.
to the land o dr
litc !.,i st~ r I c a s.
i t ta k wai over,
To s 3. t in abve.
...X . I. 1ka 1 1.! in : ianapiv oils
.Ir
ON-CAR S
W. TOLMAN.
r' enough to admit his body. le i
cau.:.:t unavailin:y with his fingers I
at the coarse bagging, but so well had r
lie hvdrdu lic press done its work that t
le could ikDrasp no slack in his fraiiLcl
clutchings. -nd his course was not ;r
restedi till le struck the hard wooden
floor. The sudden shock doubled un
his finger tips and drove back lIs
hands. His head came down "non the t
planks with a stunnig crack that
niade him for the moment half-in
sensible.
When the car was being loaded at
Memphis. there had been found in the
shipment one bale considerably broader a
than the others. It was placed at or i
end of the seventh row from the door, i
and a bale of ordinary size was put at N
the other end. The space between the I
two was of necessity left vacant, as it I
was not broad enough to admit an
6ther bale. This formed the cavity
irto which, two weeks later. Daniel
I Harrigan was unlucky enough to fall. 2
For perhaps thirty seconds the young
Irishman remained inactive. 'ecover- 1
ing from the effects of the 1)12w upon 1
the top of his skull. His cap fad been
pulled on so tightly that it had not t
fallen off wheii he plunged downward; I
hence it slightly broke the force of his
fall. With returning consciousness, 0
however, he began to feel a shooting 1
pain in his temples.
The second finger. too. on his right I
hand had been severely sprained, and t
the nail split down to the quick, so s
that it was bleeding freely. The full t
weight of his body resting upon the r
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 cas
cade. He could hear the copper and
silver coins and his jack-knife clinking
together on the planks. His watch 0
slipped from its place, and hung dang- 1
ling in his very face.
The situation had a ludicrous as well
as an unpleasart side. How should
h" 'Sver pick up all that loose enange
Lrom the floor? Evidently the first ~
thing, however, was to restore his ~
heels and his head to their normal
positions.
Harrigan did not anticipate any spe- f
cial difficulty in doing this. But when 0
he strove to bend his body over, so r
that he might stand upright, he found C
that the cavity was too confined tot
permit it. His shoulders almost ~
touched the bales on each side, while d
the one over which he had just crepr
projected so far forward that the open
space was barely eighteen inches from
front to bnek. It was. if anything, a
little larger at the bottom than at the
top, and this increased the difficulty (
o~ his undertaking. S
He tried to push first one bale and C
then the other a little farther away, to t<
gain more room, but all to no avail. ai
His efforts finally convinced him that a
his only way of escape was to lift him-a
self upward and backward, until he h 1
could regain a position on the top of 'I
the cotton. b.
The checker lifted hiimsel at arms'
length ont the palms of his hands, and
tried to stick the tips of his toes into b
the space between the two bales be- T
hind him; but he could not reach back o
far enough.
He van 'his fingers up and down the f
rough burlap, seeking some loose place. (
but finding none. So long as he could t
push with his hands against the floor o
he could raise his body: but once at a
arms' length, he had nothing to press o
against, as the bales afforded no hand- c
hold. His strength was of little ser- o
vice, for it could he exerted only '.
through a few inches of space. a
By this time it had dawned upon l
Hlarrigan that he was i':. a very serious a
dilemma. The bloorl had flowed into
his head and arms in such abundance
that it had become positively paiinful.
He seemed to be growing all pulse. s
Once more he explored the surface p
of the bales with his fingers. but foundv
it absolutely unyielding. Those whos
know cotton only as a soft, fluffy sub-u
stance ean hatve no conception of the 1
hardness it assumes under the com-'l
press. No, there wa ro hnc to C
get hold of the burlap: but in one c
place. where there was a slight ho!
low, he was able to press his fingers
tips down on the edge of a steel band.
Insigniticant as the leverage was, it e
enaled him to raise his body. Cau
tiously he worked his way up andi
backward. His knees were almost on
the top of the bale: another effort, and
he would be safely out of his predica
ment. But as lie pushed with all his
might on the sharp top of the steel.
band his fingers slipped off. Down hie.
fell, and again his hands rested on|
the floor of the car. |
Harrigan at last realized that his I
life wvas actually in P'eril. If he could I
not get out now, when his strengtth
was priactically- unimpaired. whait
chance would he have later! With
numbi fingers, swelled by the~ inrush
ing blood, lie fumbled once more u~p
and down the cotton. He found the
band on which he had raised imself
before, and strove to repeat his at-r
tempt: but he fell heavily baick, this
time striking on his head.
A train rumbled by. shakir~g the
ground and making the car tremhie
unider him. He heard two bra kemn~c
calling out to each other, and ied~( to'
attract their aten: ion: but his voice,
was smothered in that narrow eavity.
A heavy. painfuil dirowsiness5 was
creeping over the freight handier, a I
strange, dull apathy that f:-ightened 1
-nm. His strength was gradua!!y: eb'1- I
n awayr The nart of his body below.,
Ir rather, as now situated. above his
vais-t-t, was losing its fkeli:". The
ootd surged through his brain so
:tronigl y tha t it threat.ned to e'wlrive
:im1 of con sii ". Insensibility
%-.s wonig n and lsllldI mant
leath.
I :':an's m)es wtre almost on the
Op of tho ha111e ov-r w 11".h hadl
--pt. ie 1::d aniy to raise hin:'ie1f a
ittle mr'e mian two feot to have his
toot5ole's toucf:h the cili:: belinId the
weami he had era vl(ii wimier. PBy press
n; The hacks of his .eels hard against
his bevam he could i-t sutivient lever
tre to help himself jut. The distance
vas triIin.-. but tlere seemed abso
utely nothing he c"uld grasp to lift
ilmself with.
Again lie felt limily along the bale
nI front of him. and thrust his fingers
nto the spaces etweeii it and the ad
acert bales ('on eacL .,ide. When cot
oi leaves the compre!s, the burlap
Im the edges that li:ve been lowest in
he press is ight to tle point of burst
ng, while that about the upper edges
s much looser. Fortunate!y for Mar
igan. the two corners turned toward
im. as the bale stood on end, were
hose round which thie covering was
se. This apparenlhy trivial circui
tance saved his life.
The corners gave him something to
rip. Numbed a nd swollen though his
ingers were, he fond that by press
ng them hard against his palms lie
ould gather in a very respectable
andful of the bagging. This gave him
archase enough to lift his weight.
lItaising his hands very gradually
nd hardly daring to breathe. inch by
neh he worked himself up and back
a agony, clutching the coarse edges
ith desperate caation. To slip back
ow would be fatal. Little by little he
ushed his toes back over the bale be
and him. He lifted one of his heels,
nd it touched the beam. In a moment
t was pressed behind the firm wood.
L little more, and he would he-safe!
Shifting his grasp with almost in
erceptible movements, he raised his
iody slowly and painfully. Red lights
anced before his eyes; the roaring of
he ocean was in his ears. Up, up. up!
f he could only keep his senses a few
econds more! His body was now well
ver the tops of the bales behind him,
ut he did not dare to let go yet.
One handful more, one hurried, vio
ent thrust that sent him back from
he edge of the dangerous cavity, and,
afe at last. he faited dead away on
he top of the cotton.-Youth's Con
anion.
SClENiP NICS
A quite extraordinary combination of
:erits, is claimed in France for a new
xplosive, which consists of a mixture
f powdered aluminum and nitrate of
mmonium. It is not liable to spon
aneous combustion, cannot be prema
urely exploded by shock or friction,
urns only with ditficulty, is not affect
d by frost or dampness. and the gases
rom its explosion are harmless.
An inventor has hit upon a method of
utting what are practically stone soles
n boots and shoes. He mixes a water
roof glue wvith a sumitable quantity of
lean quartz sand and spreads it over
Le leather soles used as a foundation.
'hese quartz soles are said to be very
exile and practically indestructible,
udl to give the foot a firm hold even
n the most slippery surface.-Chicago
Aluminium-coated paper.,- made in
;ermnyu for wrapping food sutb
tances. is prepared by applying a thin
oat of an alcoholic sointion of resinl
artificial parchmcnt, then sprinkling
humin ium powder over thd surface,
nd tilally submitting te pressure. The
rtieial parchmert is paper that
as been u'eated with sulphuric acid.
'ie aulmnium nal cir is not attacked
y the air or by fats.
Ths cnmious dread of cats that has
een stuied for three years by Dr. S.
Voir Mitchell. of Philadelphia. may
pen p) a wide fieli for investigation.
.n advertisement brought L59 replies
roi different countries - including
hermany. Egypt and India-anid about
wo-thrds of them mcntioned cases
fear' of cats, the others referring to
sthma from cats. This asthma, due to
Ios. may be excited by the presence
f orst s, dogs, cat; or sheep. or even
f roses, apples, oranges or bananas.
The ecatphobia comes instantaneously,
d may be vecry se'7ere, catalepsy hay
rig developtd in one case, and tempor
ry blini&.:css in another.
In the examination of food sub
tanes and other materials, micro
(oists often find it necessary to comn
are iwo slides. This soon becomes
cry tedious by the usual method of
ubistituting one slide for another or
sing duplicate microscopes, and a Ia
or~ous study of starches, tibers, ece.,
as led two English investigators to
evise a much simpier process. The
v' idea is a pice of apparatus
:non as the Ashe Finlaysor: comupara
cope. The second slide is placed upon
orizontal rod a-.tached to the side
f tle nosepice of the mieroscope, and
mirror andi hens p~roject the image
nto the nosepiece. where an inclined
efi'etor deflects the rays up the mi
oso-oe tube.
City vs. Country Eyes.
In one of his delightful books Dr.
SSOPp) remarks that whereas coun
ry people look up, Londoners look
tow: It is largely this habit that has
uited their observing powers; but
~odoni huas itself to blame. I take it
hat one can observe well only by the
ower of taking large views. atnd in
ondon this is impossible, even if one
vould. partly t'om. tie circumscribing
fea'ts of bricks aind mortar, partly
rent the dim light of a London dis
a1c. and partly from th? need of
toidig collisions. One's eyes unconx
:iously aeouire a habit of restricted
isio:; mur obser'vation specializes.
ike that of the little girl itn Mrs. Mey
mell's book whlo h;eguiled the tediumn of
ler' walks by collecting shopkeepers
mmed .Tones. Pe'rhaps t hat is the kind
if eervaioin it' wich we in London
ire best stuited.-Lonidon Outlook.
There Was a Leak'.
'I take my pen ir. hand--' lie wrote.
It was a fountain pen. aud he got no
-mrthn--new York Sun.
'he GoodI cads- Proposition.
g H1E press of the cntry n
6 0 tention to the question (!
national aid to good ro:10Z.
Ole The proposition as onil:dJ
!-d i% the Brownlow-Latinc Ilis has
IOV been uder dislussion ion.
enoiug.-h to be wevll udelstoolti. !IJd t
deiiand for its adoption as a natio:n::tl
policy is growilg ill ever'. uar!r.
Tihe tirst of timse hills was imrmhi'l
iI the House by Ion. W. P. Brown
low. of Tenne.wee, and the o'.er in *he
Sen-late by hon. A. C. Lati:ner. of
South Carolina. The bills :- prci
eally the same. both sehing to bring
in the United States as a co-operative
factor in tile systemtatie construction
and improvelmnct of the highwvays. the
(overlnent to supply a suil equal to
the sum any State will suiply up t)
the maximum provided for. In a
speech in Congress on his bill Repre
sentative Browinlow declared that a
general plan of co-operation would
have to be resortel to in order to fairly
distribute the burden of taxation neces
sary to adequately improve the high
ways, and added this foreeii point:
"So long as we pursue the original
method of taxation the entire bur(den
of cost for highway improvement falls
upon 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 clanged conditions of the present
day. when one-half of the people live
in cities, and much more than oie-halif
of the wealth is concentrated in these
cities and in the corpmrations that are
-so powerful at the present time, it is
absolutely necessary that some means
should be devised wlhereby the reveil
lies requisite for the great improve
ment that is called for should be de
rived from all of the people and re
sources of the country as nearly as
possible, and not rest. as heretofore.
upon the farming classes. whi'o are the
immediate losers by every failure of
crops and sufferers by every decline ill
price of agricultural products."
About one-third of our people bear
the total cost of the construe-tion and
improvement of thze common roads.
They are the people of the country dis
tricts, who constitute the mud-sill upon
which is built the political and indus
tral development which is our boast.
To them, in a lirgr degree than any
other e1as, ve owe the magnitude of
the posi::on to which we have attained
alng all lin'-s. Upon themt the heavy
hand of taxation fids relentlessly.
They never doige the tax gatherer.
but bear the iargest proportion of the
burdens of government, and receive
e smallest cf its benefits. It is in
unjt'st and uncqual distributionl of the
burdens and benefits of government,
and it is to correct in a measure these
inequalities and hardships that the
bils under discussion are being urged
by the lio'pic every where
The Rtoad.
A road is like a work of art-it in
cites the imagination. In this I con
tend 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 sor-ts of roads as there
are many kinds of books, eaceh sort
filling its place. The grand turnpike,
with its fine estates, speaking of
wealth; the country byways hinting
modest conte-itmncft and ease; the toll
road, with its gate and its wayside inn
for travelers; the river road, following
the st-:cam,. now giv-ing glimpses of
the broad sweep an~d now but sparkles
of light through the foliage as the
trees obstruct the vie-::. There is the
billy road where onie loses the view of
the highway ahead its it dips down
into the valley, only to rise with a nar
rowed gauge on a further hill. and the
wood road wvithx its censiurnt paths ar-td
Itrals. One of the strongest lutes is
the road b-'ilt at a time when it was
E:sier to go around or over a hill than
througth it; bott'er to find a safe ford
than to plunge anywhere into the
stream or build a bridge. The high
way whi ch goes straight fr-om one
point to another is a secintist and niot
a poet. It iray be a fine servant, but
as a friend and companion give me the
meanerinlg road, with its constant
surprises, its up h1ll and down dale, its
sunshine and shadow. One which nay
be see:n a mtile ahead may he a fine
seedway, brt it is ntot capable of
rosing the imagination. - Walter Ih.
Stone, in Recreation.
Tho City Might Frofit.
Oneida County has unan-mousiy apl
pVoed~ the issue of .90,0JO000 bonds
for imp;roving the country thorougn
fares. Th le State meets the county half
way, and all the highroads are prompt
y implroved. As New York is located
in counties, we are free to take advan
tage of the same law. There are roads
within the city limits that need repair
ing quite a-s much as the worst muld
hles in the Adironaks.-Townl Top
rCad Road I~nlding.
An exchange puts it this way: There
ought to be a law to stop) fools build
ing highways. This idea that the
outer edge of a highway-sod, dirt and
stone, all-should be thrown into the
ent-e of the road, ought to entl'e
the people who do it to ninety days im
The Tyranny of fashin.
-- have just come borne, and all the
fashions -seem so queer.'' So r-emarkcd
Mrs. Archibald Little, authoress and
traveler, to the Society of American
Women in Lo'ndon yesterday. "When,"
the speaker added. "I saw that every
woman' s dress opened up behind, it
seemed to me that another worry bad
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 lbe set
askew?' Mrs. Little appealed to
American women as leaders of fashion
to consider whether current feminine
ttire was calculated to impilress the
omehl,. ...th ,-sct .-Lond~onl Telc
Thanks to "The Smart."
The smuart woman, bitterly vilii-led
as she is, always lias beei and alwvays
will be. is the biggest of blessings in
onle way. and that is her encourage
illent of tra.de.-The Queen.
Dead Work Much in Evidence.
Read work of all sorts eome' u1p
prisingly this season. Tley and tleir
cousins. the spiigles. are used in pro
fusion for all sorts of purposes. In
Millinery hats atre' edged with beads
both in jet a nd clors. and festoons- of
heads; are muiigled with the Lice which
is so imiiu ch employed for brims anid
edgngs. Brcad embroideries done on
velvet. siik or cloth are very snuart for
all sorts of dress id millinery pur
poses, 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 bar
gain counters, but fine, artistic com
binations specially designed.
Aprons.
Make a square of Persian lawn,
twenty-four inches when finished,
trined with tucks and lace around
the edges. From the middle of each
side make a diamond square of bead
ing: eut 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 airon. Make hard
knots at all four corners. and then tie
double bowknots. By lifting these
bows you cani draw it up into a bag.
But if you untie the bows, not the
hard bows, at the ends of the shirred
side, you have four long ribbons to tie
about the waist. While sewing you
have on 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 hold of all
four bows and drag it up into a bag.
Boston Traveler.
Bookbinding as Women's Work.
Since the first woman took it up,
bookbinding has received a curious im
petus. Each year sees a few more dev
otees 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-but when a woman's
hand and wrist become trained she be
comes more adept, as a rule, than a
man. Nobody quite equals, after all,
that great master bookbinder, Cobden
Sanderson. who refuses all but a talent
ed 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 scholarly taste to appreciate.
Yet the wvomen who have made a suc
cess 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 Dlnner 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.
The dinner coat is essentially a varia
tion 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, tali, big revers, and courtly
looking cuffs flaring upward from the
elbow are salient charatcteristics. Th'e
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 einds into what has
been described as a spoon shape. The
scantiness of the sleeves ir' offset by
the flaring elbow cuff and the wide
r~vrs. 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. which are of divers shapes
and kinds. With sleeves of different
material from the bodice possible short
lengths come into excellent employ
mert.
A dinner coat designed to accompany
two skirts. one of plain amethyst vel
vet. the other of palest mauve chiffon
very fully pleated. is made of pale
amethyst silk, brocaded with roses in
a deeper shade of amethyst and bright
ened by the inter-weaving of fine silver
threads. The coat has a bertha of
)oint de Venise lace, laid over ame
thyst velvet.
The waistcoat is of silver tissue.
trimmed with fiat buttons of amethyst
'ryst:al, covetred with silver filagree.
The coat is perfectly- suited to the
matron who wears it. It is being
copied in wvhite satin, brocaded with a
pompadour design of pink roses for a
debutante, who wvill wvear it over a
white point d'esprit skirt and a white
chifon skirt.-Philadelphia Telegraph.
Who Sets the FashionR?
"What is the use in our waiting
around the anterooms of the great
Idressmakers to see whether this or
that fabric, and how much of it. is to
be worn? Money can do anything. Let
u show a proper sum to two or three
of these satraps of the mode. tell them
that we will 'stand in' with them, and
publish to the world that certain fab
ris-our fabrics-are to be fashion
able: that skirts are to be longer, that
has are to be more flamboyant. that
trinnings arc to be more abundant.
that ribbons must be continued in
faovr: and that these little canons have
come to stay. Is not business the heart
of the world-amnd is it not a fact that
the mor'e of our commtodities there
are used the better will be our busi
ness? Let us bribe a few of the lead
ing actresSes anid singers'. alIso-and
oters wvho atre con)tsidered tmu-rors or
fhie-and then ourt nosition isa
SEPTEMBER SEVENTEENTH.
The Great Surrender. Acts 9: 1-22;
Rom. 5: 13-23.
Sauls blindness and his recovery
v.:ere as nothing compared to the spir
tual blindness in which he had been,
2nd the spiritual vision he received.
The twe blindness is of the soul.
There is no progress outside of
Christ, but as soon as one thoroughly
yields to Christ, his strength increases
from day to day.
Nothing promises finer wages than
sin, and though Satan cheats us time
ind again, how many go on working
or him to the last
"Heaven alone is given away."
Dnly the greatest of blessings, eternal
ife, is given freely, for no price that
2ould be paid would be adequate.
Suggestidns.
Christ wishes to yield Hirnself en
irely to us, and that is why He wishes
as to yield ourselves entirely to
f im.
It is not our surrender, it is our
promotion--not our defeat, but our
victory.
We cannot be lod; we have only
the chomce of service, either of God
r of the devil. Can we hesitate?
We do not surrender liberty; we
surrender slavery, and enter into the
"glorious liberty of the children of
God."
Illustrations.
If a man, in selling you a field, re
serves 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 mer
chant vessels, and in sailors' rests
ashore. The sailors make splendid
Endeavorers, sincere and earnest.
These "Floating societies" need a
close connection with the land forces,
since they cannot in any other way
get the staying 'Influences of the
church. Every land society may have,
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 Chris
tian friend, though at a distance. You
can greet the sailors when they come
ashore, and make them at home in
your society. You can send good lit
erature to the ships.
ENR L[AA UE LSO8F
SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 17.
The Gi-eat Surrender. Acts 9: 1-22;
Romn. 6: 16-23.
There is no contest more Interest
lg 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 In
cidental. The great fact is that-God
met a soul and brought it faice to
face with duty. Up to thIs hour Saul
may have been deceived. But now
he knew he ought to surrender to
Christ. And he did. There comes
to every soul the moment when he
must decide. And there comes to
many, as there came to Saul, the full,
complete, absolute surrexder to Jesus
which carries with it all future duties
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
embraced all his life-all of his time
and all of his days. It took in all the
future. To his death nothing moved
him, for all was surrendered 'to
Jesus. He delighted to subscribe him
self as the "doulos," or slave, of
Jesus Christ. There may have been
after-moments of special consecra
tion, but it was all embraced by his
"What shall I do, Lord?" There was
never a longing look backward, but a
constant pressing forward.
Some surrender their time, their
money, or their services to God. Paul
put t all in. ~a meant to him his
time, his service, his thought, his all.
It was a devotion to Christ as the de
votion of a slave. He called nothing
his own. It meant prison, stripes,
joudneyings oft, sacrifices many, pov
erty, pain, loss and death. God does
not call all to such a life 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
every turn in life. Once so surrender
ed, a soul has never a quarrel or ques
tion with duty. Obedience becomes
a habit. New details of consecration
are easy. God's claims are never ques
tioned. Such a great surrender makes
Christian living easy. Only such a
surrender can bring peace to the life
and the soul. Every soul should at
once make this great surrender.
Bath in' Goldfield.
-All trouble and inconvenience
rowinlg 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 Goldfield now as will satisfy
the requirements of the camp. I was
down .at Goldfield recently, and notic
ing a' sign on a building which pro
claimed 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
and took my motiey.
'Well, see here,' said I, '1 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. There are
about 812 people ahead of you. Come
around in about three or four weeks.' "
-San Francisco Chronicle.
There. is a telegraph box in every
street cgr in NorwnY- Write mes
sages, put on right cumber of stamps,
sured. Prosperity-magiC word-shall
wair *aponl our footsteps and right mer
rily our spnidles shall whirl. Let the
women groan under their masses of
4iripery. L'et their husbands scold at
tie, bills. What does that matter? We
hold the whipl-hanl. an-. whither we
drive. the flock must go."
How long are womien, the sensible
and the intellectual as well as the silly
al frivolous. to endure this sort of
tyranny. who can tell?' There is a sort
of a law. unwritten but binding, that
the woman who does not follow the
fashion is ''unwomaly. that she shall
walk in the valley of h!,ni:iliation and
cat thc- bread of sorrow. She may re
fuse to don the de:ath-o.ealinlg corset.
and give her digestion and her circu
lation a fair chance to do their work,
but she must not 111 in print how
much better than other women's is her
health in consequence-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 manu
facturer has forced her to buy. If she
does not hold it up it drags through
the mire. The microbes thus accumu
lated, so the doctors tell us. have
caused epidemics of grip and tubercu
losis-but what matter? The great
fashion trust must prosper. and as for
zhe rest of us, a few of us more or ioss
is immaterial (which word might lead
to a pun by one of a jocular turn of
mind, who was not smarting under the
extortions of the trust).-Kate. Upson
Clark, in Leslie's Weekly.
Restricting Women's Clotbes.
The opera management at Co'ent
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
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 riv
alry 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 satisfac
tion that no clothes of their own choos
ing could confer. besides saving a
whole sex the trouble of considering
what they should wear on state oc
casions.
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 applies
equally to the regulation of the wom
an's. At 9 o'clock a lady came in and
sat down very conspicuously in my
line of sight. She remained there un
til 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 am
not, I hope. a- morbidly squeamish
person: but the spectacle sickened me.
I presume that if I had presented my
self at the doors with a dead snake
round my neck, a collection of black
beetles pinned to my shirt front i'nd
a grouse in my hair, I should have
been refused admission. Why, then. is
a woman to be allowed to commit such
a p)ublic outrage? Had the lady been
refused admission. as she should have
been. she would have soundly rated
the tradesman who imposed the dis
gusting 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 au
thorities that if they feel bound to pro
tect their subscribers against the dan
ger of my shocking 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.
1FR~ILLS .
Dress stuffs, organdies, and dimities
and Swisses are selling.
A parasol of blue silk-a strong shade,
of blue-has a handle of blue-enameled
wood.
Hand-painted parasols are stunning,
but the embroidered ones are still more
popular.
Japanese styles are less good in them
selves (though they're stunning) than
as inspiration for other parasols.
For '-dress-up" gloves everything
mousquetaire is liked-suede mousque
taire being the newest of all.
Nowadays the riding skirt reaches
barely to the instep, and is lighter in
weight than the average walking
skirt.
All Tile talk about returning to bus
tIes and crinolines becomes nonsense
when the increasing rationality of fash
ion is observed.
Several narrow silk ruffles stitched
and corded in the hem have been found
to fulfill the function of holding out
the skirt (juite successfully.
Such good looking outing hats as the
mi!inrs are turning out! They're soft
flt hats with soft wingsa-all paie
'ray or all1 white or gray and white to
gether. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
The hiouse in which Iarriet Beecher
Soe lived for a number of years in
Ha'tford is now~ b)eing torni down to
-a r.oom fne 1he advancing factories.