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fieanchampe's Double ?OE THE PRIMA DONHfi. A Story of Mystery, Love and Devotion. BY DAVID LOWRY. CHAPTER XIV. A FRIEND IN NEED. Miss Beauchampe was in an agony of apprehension. As the day wore on, she said to herself ft thousand times, somebody will come to me, surely. She thought of Livingston. His manner more than his words had impressed her. Surely he was a true, kind, thoughtful friend?a very thoughtful friend of her brother's. He would be sure to send her word through the day. If he did not, it would be because?but surely he would have good news. God would not be*cruel to her. What had she done to be punished? 01 there would be news through the day. When hours passed, and nature could , not withstand the strain, she went down to see her landlady. The landlady was an honest, shrewd, and kind woman, with a cold exterior. Her helpless lodger appealed to her strongly. The landlady had a stock of stories, all as wonderful as the unexplained absence of Beauchampe. "Why. my dear, there was the case of Miss Wary. Her people gave her up for lost for three whole days, and where did she turn up? Why, the poor thing got on the wrong train, and was carried 100 miles out of her way before she discovered her mistake, all because she had got the wrong ticket. Then she was put on a branch road, and the culverts and bridges were washed away in a storm, and when the papers were fall of the mystery doesn't she come in as fresh as you please, saying: 'I guess you all thought I was lost' ?as sure enough she was all that time, o far as they were concerned. "Yes, and there was the experience of the old gentleman who lived out of town ? few miles. He was known by everybody 'for miles around, and one afternoon he walked down to the village Dostoffice, and nobody saw him that day or the next, nor for five days. It was the greatest sensation they had at that time. What could come on a sensible, decent old gentleman whose life was as clear and as blameless as a babe's? But he was gone?gone like mist. Nobody saw him going. Well, at the end of a whole week, mind you, miss, doesn't the wife of the preacher almost faint dead away when the old man walked past her door on bis way home. She thought it was a ghost. Then it came out that he had walked all the way to his cousin's?a lady older than himself '(and, they do say they were lovers when they were young), who was as well to-do, or better off than he was. And her children and her made so much of him that he just staid there five days ?the oddest thing for a sensible, homelike man to do that ever was known. And it seems that he bad told a young man that he met to tell his folks that he would be gone a day at least, but the young man was called away the same hour, and so the message was never delivered." All of which, althoueh designed to solace and reassure Miss Beauchampe, pro aucea just tne contrary euecii, mucb iuu landlady's motive was painfully apparent. Unable at last to endure restraint, Bpite of the protestations of her landlord, Miss Beauchampe went out, asserting her purpose to call upon the authorties. She made her way directly to the office of the chief inspector, but a single speech at tho entrance changed the current of her thoughts, and caused the blood to recede from her heart. Two men near the entrance were talking loudly. One said as Miss Beauchampe approached them: "The rope's as good as around the scoundrel Beauchampe's neck now." Stunned, speechless from terror, half blinded by the rush of tears that spread over her cheeks, Miss Beauchampe turned away, and slowly retraced her steps with sinking heart homeward. It was with difficulty she could walk. At times she thought she would fall, but Borne strange power supported her and nerved her to pursue her way along an untraveled street until she entered her oiyn door. ' There she yielded herself a prey to all manner of forebodings until she wrought herself into an ecstasy of terror. It is hard to say what the result might have been had not fortune sent one to her eide who was able to soothe and reassure her. While she was weeping unrestrainedly, the landlady opened the door, said something in a low tone, then quietly withdrew. A moment later a hand was laid gently on hor head and a sweet ? Toice said, "Do not yield to despair, child; al will be well soon. Listen to ate. * It was the voice of Vittoria. "I can feel for yi.u. my dear. It is horrible?horrible, this mistrust. It is Impossible always to resist the inclination to weep; and sometime* it does you good to cry, but I know, I feel that you are unwisj to yield to such a tempest of tears a9 this. You will have good news soon, maybe before morning. Who can tell? It may be later, but it will be good news. "How do I know? I cannot prove It to you, but I know. I feel there is a cruel mistake; that it will be righted. I believe as truly as I belie ve the good God Is just and merciful. I have come to tell you this. Would I come if I did not believe what I say? And what is it that snds me to you? I have come now twice to bid you not yield to thes^ terrible apprehensions. They will drive you wild." Her voice was sweet; her tones soft and low. The touch of her hand was like balm to a wound. MissB>auchampe repressed her sobs and looked up at VJtr toria through her tears. "Yes, it is I, Vittoria, your friend, and sympathizer In your trouble. Come, lift your head; let me, permit me to wipe your cheeks. There is no reason for these tears. You will smile with me 6oon, perhaps to-morrow. Then the trouble will be explained to e>erybody's satisfaction." Miss Beauchampe. was prevailed upon to rise and bathe her face, and then Vittoria comforted her, encouraged her, talked unrestrainedly until Miss Beaurhampe became interested, and then she too talked until ViwnrU discevved sha liad prolonged her visit "an unconsldep able length ol time. " When she withdrew a messenger approached the door. "What did I tell you," said Vittoria It is good news. Open it and read." As Miss L'eauchampe read the world seemed to whirl around. Vittoria took the paper from her hand. The message Iwas brief. It was dated Chicago, and contained these words: Do not be alarmed unnecessarily. We Will, I think, solve the mystery satisfactory In a short time. Liytnqston. He wouid not send this if he did not know there is good news in store for yon. Now, go to sleep to-night without fretting more about It. This proves that what 1 have said is true. * Then kissing her on either cheek, Vittoria left Miss lleauchampe hoping, and half believing, her brother would be restored to her speedily. When she reentered her room, sh? glanced at a tab e, and espied a small package. Opening it quickly, she discovered twenty golden eagles. Her cheeks flamed one instant, then suddenly grew pa'e, as she said; "How like Vittoria! I shall keep it. until my brother returns. He will restore it to her." CHAPTER XV. THE DETECTIVE DOUBLES IN HIS TRACKS. When they were apart from the group of police onicers, whose chagrin ovef their discomfiture was manifested in ac- j tions and unmistakable language, Sim- i mons said to his companion: "I have other reasons for believing that the man we are after is bound for the East. In the first place, he is not concerned in any way or manner with these anarchists. All I have learned warrants the opinion that he is in quest of assistants in a job somewhere." "What sort of a job?" "That I am not sure of?a burglary likely. Something that promises a big 'divvy.' The siens are plain. My information is correct. It comes through the police here, the greater portion of it." "Then you agree with me. It is not Beauchampe at all we saw. And if it is not " "I can't make It out, just yet Sometimes, it seems all straight sailing, then I'm puzzled again. J am sure of one thing?the man 1 want is a bad egg, and I'm bound to have him soon, if I travel to Canada for him. But the chances are I'll find him in New York. They all head that way. Which way &re you going?" "To bed. I am all tired out I need rest" "Well, don't worry about the morrow. The worst is over h6re, as all the country will know. You can send the whole story to New York before 5 o'clock today. That i? all I will say to you now, except to get ready to write ali I tell you. It will corroborate every statement you have wired New York, and will locate the source of all the trouble. So go to sleep on that, and get ready to return home. There will be no necessity for a man like you to remain here after to-day, in all probably." "That will suit me exactly," said Livingston as he bade his friend pood morning and walked on to his hotel, while Simmons returned to the group of policemen. The day was well advanced wnen he woke. He felt refreshed, eager for work, and enjoyed his first meai. Somehow Simmons infused hope in him. The detective was not a man to make loose statements. It would be a good thing.if it was shown to all the world that the outbreak that startled the country was purely local, and a good thing for Chicago, for the authorities would know where to lay the ax. It would enable Livingston to suggest his own recall at once, and thus he could be within reach of Miss Beauchampe and render her aid, and if he could not reassure her himself, at least he could devise means to reas sure her. All his thoughts were centered on Miss Beauchampe now. He did not know, or suspect the truth. He thought It was his duty to befriend his friend's sister. Who was it said pity is akin to love? He mastered all that was new in the newspapers by the time he ate his first meal that day. Then he visited police headquarters, " * - Ji called upon a ieuuinjj iuuiji) uuituw, dropped into a newspaper office, and then, deeming it the time to meet Simmons, sought the detective. Simmons was delayed unconscionably; Livingston, who could not be idle with work ahead ot him, sat down and reviewed the situation. His review ran into a column, then he paused, and still there was no word from Simmons. Livingston began to feel uneasy. What had happened? Simmons was the soul of promptness. Possibly he was fortunately in a way to accomplish his aim 6peedily. Another half hour passed. Livjngston was nervous with apprehension, when suddenly Simmons presented himself unannounced. The moment he entered the room Livingston surmised the truth. "You are disappointed; everything has gone wrong. I can see it in your face. " "Yes; that is, I have not caught my man. Our idra seemed right. We went out of town a good ways, and here I am. I have precious little time to give you. you'll have to take what I am going to say in shorthand, and write it out. I must go to New York b"y the first trainI would not be here now if I could have made a train two hours ago. I only stayed to assure myself my man really Lad got away." ."I wish I could go with you! Fire ahead, Simmons," said Livingston, as he settled down to work." Spin it out as fast as you like?I'll tell you when you are too fast for me. " Simmons reflected a few moments, then, in a very even, low tone, related the numerous circumstances and wellascertained facts that warranted his belief that the crime which thrilled the country was the result of a plot devised by a few who assumed to represent thousands. He outlined the motives of the master minds, the means employed, the deceptions practiced, the agents enlisted, the arguments and inducements that led men to violate laws?in fact, he described in detail the conspiracy which was afterward laid bare in court. At least twenty minutes were consumed in the relation. Livingston's pen sped over the paper 'without a pause. When Simmons ceased speaking, the pen was still poised on the sheet, as Livingston wanted him to proceed. "That is all," said the detective. "All? It is the most complete statement that I have ever written?and I have reported not a few decisions of the Supreme Court," Livingston answered admiringly, as he looked at Simmons. "Thank yon," said Simmons. "You couldn't give me tbe salary a Suprem# Judge gets, could you?" "No. But I'll tell you what I can and will do. On the strength of this extraordinary and complete expose, I shall go back to New York with you." "I thought " UI could not go until I received orders. Not exactly. There are times when we can use our own discretion. In this ca-e I shall go along with yon, and by the time we are half way, sooner, perhaps, I'll have the whole story written out aud I can begin to wire it on the way." "On the way?" Simmons looked a1 Livingston. The latter smiled. "That's no trick at all. Say we reach a good-sized town in Ohio, well, any place wh re I can wire ahead from a station totho telegrapher that I may want, that he must be ready to take from three to live thousand words. By the time I ge. to that point I chuck tho copy Into his hand?with ten dollars or so. That's the little end of it. He send9 it on to New York. Ir it is too xntrh for one man, I pick another fifty or a hundred miles fur- i ther on, and he gets a lot of copy. The I story will be in type in New York by the tin.e the last, word leaves?well, say Columbus. Ohio." "Not quite so soon as that." "I've seen it ahead of time, as time is rated now." "I forgot. I see now. Well?" "Why, when I do all this, I'll tell them I am on the n ad home." The detective mused. "And what guarantee have you that your telegrapher won't soil your story to one or half a dozen papers, some of them New Yorkpapers at that'?" "Be could, hut If he did he might as well hang or drown himself." "I believe you," said Simmons. "He could never find anybody to employ him as telegrapher again. But if you are in earnest, you've precious little time. We must make the first train." "I never missed a train in my life," Livingston replied. "You cun hang around here, or go to the depot. I'll be on time." Simmons hastened away then, and Livingston immediately prepared to return to New York. "Lucky I wrote up my review. Fits into tho expose as neatly as one 'want' fits another in the Record. Will make at least five?possibly six?columns. That's not so bad for a round-up," Livingston soliloquized a9 he made ready for his homeward journey. "Take it all in all, I think?yes, I I'm quite sure?it's the very best?by all | odds, the best piece of work I have ever done." Time and the managers of the Record proved the correctness of this surmise. His specials from Chicago proved the stepping-stone to the great good fortune that rewarded the journalist very soon after his return to New York. "Here we are," said Simmons as he encountered Livingston at the depot. "Ves, right side op with care," Livingston replied, "and devilish glad to be on my way home." CHAPTER XVI. TAKING UP THE THREADS. When Livineston and his friend reached New York they separated: Simmons to meet an inspector credited .vith more experience than any in police circles in the city, an old and trusted friend of the detective's. Simmons disclosod to Livingston al! that he had learned in Chicago concerning the man he sought. The information acquired, summed up, consisted oi the following facts: 1. A well-known "cracksman" who had served one term in an Eastern State, and who was ? fugitive from Illinois, was j seen in Chicago the day Simmons left New York. He wis shadowed by the police. He was traced to his lodgings. It was discovered that he had received two telegraph dispatches from New York. The second was in answer to on* he had forwarded. 2. The house he lodged in was a resort for "crook*." "While here he borrowed ten dollars from the proprietor. The proprietor did not. dare refuse the money. The burglar might give information to the police that would cause the proprietor trouble. The money was borrowed in the morning. At five o'clock on the evening of the same day he repaid the loan, ha.ndinsr the proprietor a nfty dollar note to exchange. Tho proprietor observed he had another note of the same denomination. 3. The telegram he received was signed "Samuel Jacobs, No. street. New York." 4. The nextday atnoon the burglar inquired if a visitor had called for him. He was not satisfied with the answer he received from the proprietor. He questioned his wife, and insisted that some one had called for him. When he left the house, it was his purpose to return soon. Instead of returning he sent a fsw l%tc wwn.canlf T-I/* WQC CPPn fin the street three hours later in company with another man. 5. The police made inquiry and learned there was no person of the name of Samuel Jacobs on street. Nor was there any number, on the street that could be confounded with the number Samuel Jacobs pave. G. Next Simmons assumed that tne theory the Chicago police advanced, that the man in New York had telegraphed money to Chicago was correct. To prevent the possibility of error, Simmons, by means of authority given him by the United States attorney," proved the correctness of his surmise?the telegraph company showed him the dispatches authorizing the payment of the money to the cracksman, who received it in the name of William Alexander. Out of these facts Simmons surmised the following: (He was assisted to these conclusions by other knowledge he had acquired through his own efforts, unaided by the Chicago police.) William Alexander was in a strait for money. His condition must have been known to Samuel Jacobs, bis New York correspondent. Possibly he had written friends in New York, or the man who forwarded him tho money may have known Alexander's movements. Noted criminals often charged themselves with intimate knowledge of the movements of fellow-rogues He made known his need In the answer to the first telegram, which was in cypher, a jargon not yet analyzed by Simmons. The answer was in the same jargon. The man he expected the next day was either his New York correspondent or some one sent to kim. Evidently the man had met him; he doubtless encountered him after he left his lodgings. They met to perfect a plan to rob a bank, express car, or moneyed institution in the eastern part of the country. This much was plain to Simmons, since he had found the man Alexander had bought his grip-sack from. Alexander had ordered his name and the word Chicago painted on the sack in large letters. This was simply done to mislead. Acting upon his convictions, Simmont had striven to discover tho ex-convict, Alexander, bad failed to find him or locate him, but with the aid of the Chicago police soon located the man who was seen with Alexander on tho street. This man was either Beauchampe or Beauchampe's double. This was the man the detective was resolved to capture at all hazards, and who eluded him, as has been shown Lator Simmons received information that satisfied him the companion ol Beauchampe, or the "double," had cone East. He bought a short distance ticket ?a ruse that did not deceive Simmons. It was this information coupled with other circumstances that prompted the detective's sudden return to New York, lie was positive the Fcene of operations plannnd by the burglars was in the city of New York or vicinity. When Simmons parted with Livingston, it was with the unalterable determination to nursue his inauiries until "Is that all?" Ho looked ruefully at the clerk, who laughingly replied: "Ain't that enough for two or tl.rco days' work? I work all month for a third of it I don't think there is anything else?unless you want me to turn the. office over to you. 1 wish I eou'd? you could run it to suit me. Why?yes, here is a letter for you?hut it's not ( from any of our people." "Let me see it," said Livingston, eagerly. He was doomed to disappointment again. It was a curt note from the editor and proprietor of an evening paper upbraiding him for failing to make good his word. Livingston had not supplied tho facts which had been promised, and which were counted on to correct the impression that the artist ! Beauehampe had killed Dabney. Livingston looked at the date. It was dated that morning. He turned to the clerk, saying carelessly, "Any new de velopincnts about Dabney's murder?" "Nothing; the anarchy business has made people forget it. I haven't seen anything new. Are you going for that now? I'd think you'd want a week's" rest " Livingston next made his way to thr> editorial rooms, wrote a brief note, an placing it 0:1 the managing editor's (let went out. He had plead weariness : his note, and said he was to bo found a. his lodgings. When he walked out of the RccortS office he did not look or walk like a weary man. He was all animation. He had resolved to do two things. In the first place he would redeem his word?he would give the evening paper a column or two that would make the proprietor his fast friend, yet reserve sufficient to make the Record the channel tbroueh which the real murderer of Ma'or Dabney would be indicated Then, he would call upon Miss Beaucbampe. If any who read this think Livingston was "fagged out" by his labors, they do not know how love sustains and inspires youth. Livingston felt as fresh "as a daisy" as ho sat down at his table in his ** m* A ??TMAf A ll i ftf uwij ruuiu, aiiu wiuiu iuo the murder for the evening paper. It was an easy matter to suggest, In a generalizing article, the details that he would supply to his own paper a few hours later, une was merely prelimPnary, as he treated the subject. He worked rapidly. In less than an hour the article was completed. When read carefully, it pleased him. Calling a messenger, he dispatched it to the editor with his compliments, explaining his absence from the city, and referring him to the Rccord of that morning. Then he dressed himself with unusual care, and sea out for lieauchampe's lodging9 [to be continued.; TEMPERANCE. who killed this baby? One little baby was rescued from its fighting parents* by our slum sisters, and when taken to our Salvation Army nursery It was in a stupor. A few days afterward it died, and the doctor who performed the autopsy said it died as truly a victim or alcoholic poisoning as any older case he had hai to diagnose. Be it remembered that this baby was but fifteen months old. Not only had it boen nursed by a drunken mother, but tho liquor had been pourt'd down its littlo throat when it cried. Perhaps its lot is happier than those who do not receive the liquor in large enough doses to poison them right away, but drag through *u drink cursed life which ends in crime. State prison or the elec? .!/. ,.vw, i. i in r'hilrl Life in the Slums. LAEOB ANP T-IQCOH. The .Scottish Reformer invites attention to a letter from a large employer of labor to J. H. Raper, Esc;., in the vicinity of whosa works there were formerly throe licensed "public houses," which the workmen had daily to pass in going to nnd from their homes. The temptation to stop and drink was of course great. These licensed places for the sale of liquor have now been closed. The statement is made that the improvement i3 wonderful. The people are belter fed and clothed, and they ara moro thrifty. Their homes nr* more comfortable, some of the men have ?veu bought houses of their own. and the young men and boys are attending evening schools, instead of spending their spare time in tt:e public house. The people are all more contented and happy. A.mon? the many burdens which workingmen suffer trom the drink habit is one of the most irrievrjiis unrl dfsjitrnr>tiv?? I aLCOHOL AND H.VLF-DBOWjJIED TEKSONS. The London Lancet says : "Dr. Wilkinson. of Tynemouth, surgeon to the Tyne- i mouth Volunteer Life Brigade, in reference | to an accident which occurred on the pier j durincr the late sale, pave timely advico to ; the volunteers as to the danger of udminis- j tering alcohol to half-drowned persons. He mentioned the case o! a young man who vras knocked down on the pier by a wave, sustaining an injury to his side. He was brought to the surgery drenched to the skin and extremely cold. He emitted a strong odor of spirits, and it was found that after tho accident lie bad been taken to a public house, and brandy had been given to him. Dr. Wilkinson ordered him to go to bed at once at a hotel, but he persisted in returning home to Newcastle?a slow journey?sitting in his wet clothos. Ho died half" an hour after his arrival home. Dr. Wilkinson pointed out that it was important to the members of the brigade to remember that it was often n fatal mistake to give brandy to a halfdrowned person, nt any rate until the wet clothing had been removed, an I tho temperature hnd been raised in a warm bed." TEMPERANCE NEWS AND NOTES. In Hawaii last year 2282 persons were arrested for drunkenness. Tn tViA T.nnotin Aatrlnm rmp-frmrth success or failure rewarded his efforts. On Livingston's side, there was the neeo.-sity of reportii.g immediately at tho Record office. It was imperative. He could explain anything that might be essential to a clearer unucrsianumg ui the situation in Chicago. lie could also, he thought, learn what progress, if any had been made in discovering the rcai murderer of Major Dabney. When he entered the Record office, an attache hailed him heartily. "Hallo! Back again!?See the paper? No?" tossing him a ropy. T,'mat lays tnem ali over?the greatest thing you ever did. Livingston?it's surprising. You ought to hear the boys talk?and you ought to see the Colonel. He stretched out a loot this morning. Bet he's seventeen feet by supper time?and rising. I never saw a man in such good humor. It's wonderful, 1 say " "Excuse me," said Livingston, blushing at the torrent of prai>e; "is there any message for me?" He was thinking of Miss Beauchampe and Vittoria. "I believe there Is?yes, here it is. The Colonel left it with Bob." Livingston opened the envelope tastily, and the attache in the business end of tho Record caught a glimpse of ai, order on the cashicr for two hundred dollars. of the cases were ascribed to drink. Dr. Speyer says that one-eighth of the insane in public asylums were 9snt there from alcoholism. Somebody says that the labor question will remain open as Ion;* as the drinking saloons do. A Cedar Rapids (Iowa) woman has sued a druggist for $3000 lor selling liquor to her husband. Otto Lancr found that eighty-eight per cent, of the crimes committed in Zurich were due to drink. The Junior Order of American Mechanics has voted not to admit liquor dealers to membership in the or.ler. Dr. Baer, a well-known writer on German prisons, alleges that fortj*-four per cent, of the prisoners were Intemperate. In 1803 one in seventeen deaths which occurred in Switzerland were ascribed to drinking habits (ihcluding women and children). The average character of boys and young men in Kansas is said to b-.i much higher since prohibition ol the liquor traffic than before. According to statistics of insurance companies total abstainers live on an average thirteen years longer than moderate drinker*. The iioted professor." of physiology, Gaule in Berne, Hertz -n in L:iim inn',', Buuge in Basic. and SchifT in Geneva, ara total abstainers from alcohol. Professor Sirutnpell. of Erlangen, saj-s that .".U'oho! has an evil influence in the causation of most diseases, and is the ruling cause of dvspapsin in adults. In New York a tempsrance society to promotes moderation in drinking as well as total abstinence, lias beeu organized under the direction of tbo Episcopal Church. In Groat Britain and Ireland there are nearly 20.000 juvenile temperance societies of one kind and another, with an estimated membership of 2,644,000 youn<? people. The Saratoga (N. Y.) Board of Fir?* Commissioners has forbidden any permanent employe drinking any kind of liquor while on "duty or entering any place where it is sold except in performance of his duties. Cauon Kelly says that whereas it was formerly a common thing for alcoholic stimulants to lie used in the English universities, now both the doas and young fellows are learning to do without them, cr to use them in the strictest moderation. DAINTY AND NEW. THE LATEST NOTIONS IN FEMININE APPAREL. The Hat of the Hour?New Parasols and Their Odd Handles?Aa Inexpensive But Pretty Sofa Cushion. Y I V HE English walking hat is the ' I ' i i p iv _ i mi. ?_ j flat 01 me iiour. jlhis season s j 6hipe? are almost universally 6 becoming. The very latest English novelty has a broad brim which curls but slightly at the sides. The rather high crown shows a deep dent in the centre. These hats come in both coarse and fine straw in shades of brown, dark blue, black, white and butter color. When trimmed simply with a band of ribbon they sell for $1.39. Perhaps the walking hat which is considered the most chic at present is in this shape, with the broad brim in black and the crown of batter color. This is trimmed with a wide band on ipk THE NEW ENGLISH WALKING HAT. black moire ribbon and a bunch of black feathers at the side. Hats of blue straw with, a white crown are also much the vogue For the woman whose face does not require a broad brimmed hat there are DAINTY I jaunty -walking hats with narrow brims which turn up lightly at the crown. All the walking hats are much in favor with the broad shouldered type of tailor-made girl. LOUIS XV. NECK RIBBON. It has quite superseded the popular little gold and silver chains that have for many months been worn by smartly dreesed women. London maids and madames have adopted the Louis XV. ribbon of black moire, and the fad is - '--- ? ? a: DeiDg YSK6H Up Oii Liiib oiuc ui ituc water. The ribbon is about one and a half inches -wide and forty inches long. It encircles the neck and holds a ecent bottle, an eyeglass, a t'ny purse or watch, such as Louis XV. nobles wore. SENBONNTETS REDJVIVUS. There has been a quaint revival of the old-fashioned 6unbonnet this summer. As, with most of these revivals, it has been modified and much im- i proved, having no "slats." as of old, being made with a pretty material as to col or and fabric, and finished by a little frill, edged with narrow lace, about the face. These are only worn by rather small children, but are usually very becoming to them. FANCIES IN FABASOLS. Any girl who has a penchant for odd bite of bijoutrie can have it thoroughly gratified by buying parasols by the score. It seems as if the manufacturers had determined to see how funny they could make parasol handles. They certainly succeeded to perfection. Just imagine a young man holding a parasol over the summer girl while "rocking" with a fiercelooking parrot head staring at him from the end of the handle! But what is more to the point, a couplc of lovemaking young folks may be carved on V^M i the handle. Queer Diesden shepherdesses and hobgoblin figures are also seen. HOW TO MAKE AN INEXPENSIVE BCT HANDSOME SOFA CUSHION. A sofa cushion can be made from the attached design. First draft your pattern. A long thin design looks best on an article of this kind, as it spreads over the materia], making it look elaborate. Draw the pattern o* paper and transfer it to jour goodu by rubbing charcoal on the opposite side of your drawing ; lay the pattern on the material to be used, pinning it firmly to prevent slipping, the charcoal side of course be ng next to the cloth. Trace the pattern with a sharp lead pencil. Lifting the paper, a faint outline will be seen. Trace over this THE CUSHION*. with some bright lead (red or blue is best), so that the pattern will be plain, and not rub off. Do not make or stuff the cushion until you have embroidered your pattern. Another way to make the design is to cut the leaves and flowers out of colored materal, sewing them on the goods, being careful not to show the stitches. Still another pretty way is to embroider them on. This is a far less expensive way of obtaining the design. These pillows may be made from almost any material. One of the prettiest was made of pale pink china silk; the leaves were cut from pale green silk and the flowers embroidered in pink, shading off from red to white. Of course a pillow or cushion of this kind will come quite expensive. The 4UA^> 4 i rt nrtfn Ann VtA , Oiuc tliat ics LXJ icob uu liiC oujio i^au wo made from any lining that matches the material used for the pillow. Place a deep flounce around the edge of the cushion. Bind the inner edge with silk cord, gathering the cord up at the right corner with the tassels hanging down. Avoid stuffing the pillow too stiff. Cotton batting will be found the best to use for this purpose. These pillows are placed at the head of the sofa and are made either for use or crnament. If for JODICES. ornament, the pillow will look better stuffed full. Out if for use it will be found much more comfortable if soft and light.?New York Recorder. HAT THIiIMIN'G3. The first thing to strike one glancing at the summer hats and bonnets is the extraordinary amount of trimming they all carry. Hats are miniature flower beds. Flowers have rained?nay poured?down upon the millinery world. They have landed on Everything in the way of headgear. Often, too, they have landed with more force than discrimination by coming, evidently to stay, in three or four sorts upon one small bonnet. -- > ?:xu lunuoners sny, h.llu wiu uuuu, mm, , bonnets are small. They certainly are. It is the lappets and flowers and buckles which keep the season's bonnet from being altogether invisible by reason of its size. A siuail bonnat recently seen was made entirely of jet sequine, and not very many of them either. But it had in front wing bows of frosted jet at'd cream guipure, a jetted osprey, witli some cut jet spikes j and stars, and toward the back a clusi ter of rose geraniums1, with some sprays trailing down over the hair. Gold and black is the color scheme I of another dear little French bonnet. It has a rolling brim and sides to the crown, but no top, and through the aperture thus formed nod yellow roses and two ends of a bow of chiffon contrasting with tho gold band of the crown, and the little rolling chiflon covered brim. For such bonnets the hair needs to be dressed high. Bonnets which use the hair ae the only crown in the style of the coronet ribbon hats are to be much used. A bonnet of this sort is formed entirely of wings, set at different angles, with two pink roses in front as the only trimming. Roses, with other things, appear on nearly every hat. One of the few exceptions seen at a swell milliner s ic a large hut of Tuscan ciiip, thd ? mew lined brim. A big green satin rosette, holding sprays of lilacs with foliage, made a graceful trimming. IXDIA SILK PRESSES. Skirts of India silk dresses made by Worth are in three tiers, neither flounces nor overskirts, but in triple pointed layers, the lowast pointed to the foot in front and back, the upperniost gathered slightly to the belt. These layers are very short on the sides, and by way of trimming p. zigzag band of white guipure embroi lery edges each of them. The whole is mounted on a taffeta foundation skirt covered smoothly on th9 sides with " "" -a India silK, and eugea a; iut? iuol ?nu a rnclie of satin ribbon, three inches wide, held in triple box plaits. This dress is jjrettily shown in navy blue India silk, with cross daahes and lines of white, trimmed with clear white insertion in points and a navy blue ruche. In A. D. 42 the Nile failed to riso because of the lack of rain in the heart of Africa, the crops failed, and over a million people perished in Egypt. The average annual rainfall over the whole earth is thirty-six inches. Mai SERENADE. The ocean chants of lustrous paarls Far bidden in its caves below, Beneath the wave that lightly curls Beneath the mirrowed stars a-blow. Ah sweet the strain th.it rings Above the billows bins, But sweeter the songs my fancy sings Amid the dusk, ot you, Love, Amid the dusk, of vou. The zephyr tells of woodlands green And mossy banks of nodding flowers, Beneath the summer skies serene, That bend to bli3S the fragrant bowers. Ab, soft the lay that flings Its magic o'er the dew, But softer the strains my fan ?y sings Beneath the stars, of you, Love, Beneath the stars, of you. ?Samuel Minturn Peck, in Atlanta Journal. PITH AND POINT. He?"Your friend, I hear, paints faces beautifully." She?"On ly one." ?Syracuse Tost. We wish that it would turn about In this old world so funny That poverty and trouble ward As hard to find as money. ?Chicago Inter-Ocean. "What would you want first if yoa had a great big fortune?" Greedley ?"A bigger one." -Chicago InterOcean. He?"Darling, there's nobody in the world like you." She?"Do yoa mean to say I am a freak?"?Boston Transcript. # DeGroot?"Do you believe in a second life, Mrs. Van Puffer?" The Widow Van Puffer?"This is so sudden. "?Truth. He?"Why are yon forever roasting Charley Fenderson?" She?"Simply because he isn't baked."?Boston Evening Transcript. Nobody denies the right of the bald headed man to strike when the flies take his crown for a tennis court.? Galveston News. "When is a fellow lying low?'* "When he is whispering soft nothing into the ear of the summer girl."? Boston Gazette. We have noticed that the only one in the family who looks pleased when the door bell rings is the girl who is engaged. ?Atchison Globe. The New Parlor Maid -"Miss Alice says she's not at home, sir." He? "Oh?er--really! Then tell her I didn't call."?Boston Budget. The sculptors are going to have a separate club at Paris, adorned by their own examples. Each member will chip in.?Philadelphia Ladgei. She?"You say you love me, but ] doubt it. What you take for love ii merely a disease." He?"I wish i were contagious."?New York World "There .'ire no flics on me," she said, With vehemence complete: "I am surprised at this," sal t he, "Becauseyou are so sweet." ?New York Herald. Pawson- "Why does De Smyth< hesitate so when he is talking? Hai he an impediment in his speech?' Dawson?"No; in his mind."?Brook lyn Life. Debtor?"I can't pay you anything this month." Collector?"That' what you told me last month." Deb tor?"Well, I kept my word, didn' I?"?Tid-Bits. "That fortune teller must hav thought I was an heiress." "Why dear?" "She said I was to marry nopt ?.nd livfi hannilv ever afterward. ?Indianapolis Journal. &9 "Alas!" sighed the sack coat, as i^H looked up humbly to the silk ht^H towering above it on the street, "|H fear I was not cut out for a gentl^H man.''?Indianapolis Journal. SH The fellow who oJwa3-s says ''ily Wend, HE Now, what can I Jo for you?" h9 Is the chap who never a cent would lend^H When you need a dollar or two. ?New York Journal. Author?"I'm troubled with ii^H somniiu I lie awake at night, hotflS after hour, thinking about my literax^H work." Friend?" Why don't you g^H up and read portions of it?"?Ti^B Bits, |H Little Girl?"You will have to bt^H me a new -waterproof, some oversho^H| and an umbrella.n Mother?'' Whai^BB the hurry?" Little Girl?"I'm i^Hj vited to a picnic next week."?Goc^H News. Conductor (stumbling in the ?"Are these your feet, si:?" Passe^H ger?"Yes, sir," Conductor (sa^H castically)?"You should have hS9 them checked."?P. <fc S. S. S. Co.^^ Bulletin. *^M| When a man's wife comes in a^^H sees him razor in hand and his fs^H| all lather and asks bim, "Are y<BH shaving?" it's a provoking thing T*nr? V?l?r?l*7Tirr Ill III IU OUOWCi, A* V, ^ stove,"?Sittings. BHj ''Why Jo you say 'Drop Dowi^^H Nothing can drop any other way^^BE "Yes, my dear fellow, but only t^^H days ago yon asked me to drop and call on you nt your apartment^HB ?Philadelphia Call. 8fif First Sweet Young Thing? can you endure that horrid 1HH Emptyun? He is such a dullarc^HH Second Sweet Young Thing?"Yes, HBH is a dullard, but he is also dollarec^^H ?Indianapolis Journal. Blobbs?"I know a man who has^Hfl time to eat, and yet he isn't do^BR il. - .. _ QUUko anymmg. k>i\ju*jo? ixv?? ? Blo'obs?"lie argues that time BBS money, ami as he has no money has 110 time."?Philadelphia Reco^BH l'eest?"Are you 6ympatheti<^^HH Crimsonbeak? "I tliiak I must be^H9| never hear the landlord at 6 o'clc^^Bfl in the morring pounding a beet'st^BO| that I don't feel as if I would like Hj^H go down and pound the landlord. Statesman. 3SM Shaving the Head. Shaving the head was in anci^^Bfl times a modo of expressing gi^HHj grief. It is fortunate that the torn did not come down to us. (^HHj bald headed men would have b^R9n placed in a very unpleasant positiHKB While entirely happy they would pear to the public to bo in deej^HH sorrow, yet when their woes re^DB came upon them the shaving cerem<^^^H would be an impossibility.?St. Post-Dispatch. u^KS Mississippi has but 7952 foreign out of a population of 1,239,600.