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; fflCM; I - ftftiiiifi t BntA Ola ?Br? W/F\ MOTT. CHAPTER XTl_(continne<l.) The lawyer paused. "John Sand, a clerk at Pratt A "Weeks', really was my informant about "Weeks' proposed visit to my aunt. How did you find that out?" cried Stuart, in surprise. "The young man told ine himself. He has obtained a better situation, and left Pratt <fe Weeks. In short, John Sand has become my own clerk," replied the lawyer. "In support of your story, I shall produce Sand as a witness at the r ? trial." "And you think I will tell the deliberate falsehood, cunning as it i6, which you have concocted in my behalf. No, sir, I will not lie; my innocence must be established witnout a resort to such a ruse," said Stuart, resolutely. "You are mad. You must be guided by me, or you will be convicted of this , terrible crime," said the attorney, Bternly. "My innocence must be proved within out falsehood and deception," reiterated V Btuart. y At that moment a turnkey opened the door of the oell, and admitted Edna 'v} Garrison. Without, she had heard the conversation which had just passed between Stuart and the lawyer. Edna was delighted with tne piausiDie and ingenious defense invented by the lawyer, and hope sprang up in her heart as she listened. Stuart's positive refusal to save himself, or to attempt to do so, by means of the story proposed by his attorney, dashed all of Edna's hopes to the ground. * iBut she was determined that Stuart Bhould yield. He was innocent, and she believed t?at a?y pieans should be resorted to to proVe him so. - - r "Yes; he must tell the lawyer's story," said Edna, mentally. And then at a i??n&l from ?er the turnkey admitted ""her to the cell. * ' ?tuart was surprised at Edna's sudden entrance, and one glance at her pale and anxious face assured him that she had heard all of the conversation which had Just taken place between himself Cf-i and the attorney. vi-"You here, Edna!" he cried, taking her hand. I,ty? 4 T V>nTTA Kflnn o Hafonor ftf I tb. AiiU A UOTO l/VVM %0 MWWMV* WW the door. Ob, Stuart, if you are lost I shall die. Will you kill me? Will you break my heart? You must consent to tell the Btory your attorney has proposed," said Edna. But yet, despite her entreaties, Stuart would not yield at first. Edna had resold >d to conquer his objections, and she p* rsisted. She fell at his feet and in tears besought him to save himself for her sake. "If you refuse you do not love me, ?nd I shall die!" she cried wildly, carried away by emotion and excitement. Stuart was conquered by the tears oJ ?? - the woman he loved. He folded her in his arms, and while his noble face paled, he said at last: "I consent. I will tell the story invented for me by our good friend, Mr. Baybrook." Such was the attorney's name. Edna believed that her victory would save Stuart, and she rejoiced accordingly. Saybrook was delighted. "Now, then, I can work with some * heart. I will confess though, that public sentiment is against you, Mr. Har~ioeiiA io ofJll nnnorfAin * JO LI 11, OlIU UiO lOOUV AO DVM UMVV* VM.M, he said. Then he left the lovers In the cell, rery well pleased with the result of the Interview, and withdrew from the prison. CHAPTER XVII. The night following the evening oc which Paxton had resolved to arrest Levi Kredge, the "shadow" who hac followed the janitor since he became ai object of suspicion, tracked his man U hie boarding house. According to instructions which h< had previously received from Paxton the "shadow* remained on the watcl before Kredge's boarding house. Presently, as had been arranged, th? detective made his appearance. [*.'{; Paxton had come to arrest Kredge. He regarded the capture of the janito? as so very important that he did not car# to delegate the task to any of his sub crdinates. The detective's assistant informed hin that Kredge had entered the house, anc1 without delay he rang the bell. In answer to the detective's summons the landlady opened the door, and wher questioned, informed him that Kredgi was in his room. Thanks to his previous visit, Paxtor knew the location of the janitor's room &nd he ran up to it without a momenta delay. The doo;- of Kredge's room opened a' the detective's touch, but Levi Kredge was not in his apartment. Paxton recoiled as he saw that the Toom was empty. He feared that the bird had taken the alarm, and flown. Darting down stairs, he questiono* the landlady again, but he soon satisfied himself that she was ignorant of Kredge's flight, if flight it was. A female domestio was called by the landlady, and this woman 6tated that Kredge had hastily left the house by a rear route a few minutes previously. 'Paxton's fears were realized. Levi Kredge had, so to say, slipped through hi? fingers. He searched the house merelv as an ordinary precaution to guard against deception on the part of his informant. No trace of Kredge was discovered. Paxton upbraided himself, saying: ""Why did I delay; I ought to have arrested him long ago." Half an hour later the detective had mfiiwod <-i-? >115 nflfirft. und snm? of his shrewdest and most successful auxiliaries were instructed to seek for Kredge. But for the time, at least, no trace of ihe fugitive was found. Vain was every effort to trac-f I/m. Judith was shadowed, and all other precautions which suz^ested themselves to the detective were taken, but without result. Meanwhile, Stuart Ilarland's trial commenced. The case attracted the greatest attention, but a detailed report of the proceedings need not b<- given here. Suffice it to say, that it soon became evident thai there Tia.3 little hoj>e of Stuart ' fa' , . i more were assembled at the office o: the attorney, discussing the prospects o: die accused. "My only hope now is in the disagree ment of the jury," said the attorney, a the conclusion of the conversatioi which took place between himself ant bis guests. The same night Marian Oakburn, wh< had attended the trial from day to da} and listened to all the proceedings witl deepest interest, paced her room a prej to agony and remorse. It seemed that the poor girl was fight' ing a desperate battle with herself?thai contending emotions struggled for th< mastery in her heart. At last she knelt beside her oouch a: though she had resolved to supplicat( the guidance of a wiser power than thai of earth, and when she arose her fea^ tures were transformed. They were radiant with delight of i new resolution. "My decision is taken," she 6aid ii 6elf-communion. "To-morrow I wil tell the whole truth, I will save Stuar Harland. Had I dreamed that an inno' cent man's life was to be imperiled, hac I caught but a glimpse of the future how different would my course hav< been. But, thank providence, it is noi . too late yet," 6he said. That night Marian Oakburn slep1 sweetly for 6he had resolved to throw aside the burden which had weighed heavily upon her mind and heart sincf the night of her father'6 murder. Judith Kredge still continued to plaj the part of a spy on Marion, and sh< had not relaxed her vigilance. That night she stood with her ear tc. the key-hole, while Marion unconsciously uttered her thoughts aloud. She hearc the resolution which the young girl hac made, and she trembled with excitemenl as she listened. As she stole away from the door wher she had heard Marion retire, Juditt Kredge muttered: "She means to confess. She will save Harland. She will tell how I have wrung her money from her, and I shall be compelled to return it. I must see Levi." She crept out of the house. The night was entirely dark, and 11 any emissary of the detective was on the watch, he failed to see Judith Kredge take her departure. She knew where Levi was in hiding, and she reached his retreat in safety. Judith related to Levi what she had overheard that night while she listened at Marion's door. "So she would save Harland. That don't suit me. I want him convicted. That done, I am safe. They don't hang two men for the same crime. And besides, he used me like a dog, did that Harland," said Levi. "I'll tell you what is to be done,* Jut dith eaid. Then she lowered her voice as though she l'sared she might possibly be overheard by some concealed listener, and made statement which seemed to b t&r_tle Levi. They continued to converse earnestly for some moments, and then, when JucJUh wa& about to go, said, in a resolutlway: "" "It shall be done to-night." When Levi found himself alone after Judith had left him, he stealthily made his way to a resort where he knew he could always find desperate, dangerous men, who would undertake almost any Kmrr fnr mrvn 4Vi This night whereof we are writing was to Paxton almost a sleepless one. He reflected and considered regarding the various developments which his researches had evolved. Since the life of an innocent man was now in positive peril, he did not mean to be deterred from doing hia duty by any consideration whatsoever. He believed it was his duty to causv. Marion Oakbura to explain her conduct, and since she had declined to do this voluntarily, Paxton that night determined that she should explain, or he would arrest her. At an early hour in the morning he visited Marion's home, and Juditb Kredge admitted him. "I wish to see Miss Oakburn," said Paxton. "Very well; I will tell her," answered Judith, and she started up the stairs. "I will go up with you and remain outside the young lady's room until she appears," said Pas ton, and he ascended with Judith. The woman knocked at Marion's door, but as there was no answer, she opened the door and entered. A moment later she turned to the detective. "Marion Oakburn has run away!" she cried. "What! Marion fled? Impossible!" "It is true, sir. She returned as usual; now her room is empty. I know she is Qot in the house." Paxton pushed his way into Marion's room and found that the girl he sought was not there. Judith followed Paxton into the apartment, and she said, as she glanced ibout it: "She must have suddenly resolved upjn flight, for she has not taken hei clothing. Nothing, except the garmeni ihe wore, is missing." Paxton regarded Judith with a suay*sious. marching glance. xne woman seemea ui at ease, he noted. Having satisfied himself that Marioz was not in the house, Paxton left it anc repaired to his office, where he founc Stanmore awaiting his appearance. "Well, Marion Oakburn has disap' peared," said the detective. "Disappeared!" exclaimed Stanmore Yes." "Explain." In a few words Paxton told his frien< and employer why be had determine* upon Marion's arrest. He had proceeded thus far, whei Stanmore interrupted him. "But Marion Oakburn is innocent Heavens! You would not subject he to the disgrace of an arrest?" Stanmor said. "A human life Is at state. I have re solved that she should explain her con duct or I would surely arrest her. Yo surely do not mean to ask me to stan idly by, and see an innocent man con victed while there is a chance to sav him? You cannot mean to ask to d that?" Stanmore was about to speak, bu Paxton continued. "If she is innocent it will do her n harm to tell the truth." "That is true." u rp' -? -!?? A onor?+^ " men wiij 10 ouo OAAVUWI "I cannot tell." "That is what I meant she should ea plain." Then Paxton went on to tell of hi visit to Marion Oakburn's homo, and c the discoveries he had made there. "It seems that she has fled, and y< Tlailanii's acquittal. Indeed, if eeeme that lie was doomed to be convicted < the terrible crime of which ho was ur justly accused. The explanation which the lawyer ha lomposed fur him, whereby he accounl ?d ior his si crct journey on the night < the murder, and his statement regart .ng the exchange of overcoats, did rn ?>em to make a favorable impression c ;h- jury. To Edna Garrison the days of Stua Harland's trial were us years of agon tnd suspense. On the evening before the last day < Stuart Harland's trial, Faxton, Mr. Sa^ Drook, the lawyer, aQd Jlichard Stai i * ? f there is a doubt in my mind,* he said in t conclusion. "What! You think it possible that she did not leave of her own free will?" t "Yes." i "Then you mean she may have been 1 abducted?" " That is my idea. It is possible that ) the safety of the real assassin or assasr sins demands Marion Oakburn's disap1 pearance." 7 "I am sure you will learn when the truth is known that Marion has not vol untarily left her home. But I am in the b dark as to how her absence can save the 5 guilty." "So at present I am. But Marion mu6t 3 be found." > "Yes, yes. At any cost she must be b found?rescued. I have a premonition that 6he is in peril. Her very life may be endangered. Everything must give i way to the quest for Marion. Spare no expense. My purse is open to pay any i sum you may require," Stanmore said, 1 excitedly. b "Marion Oakburn shall be found and the mystery of her disappearance solved. 1 But I seem to be doomed to disappoint, ment at every step in this case, and it > may require time to locate tho missing b girl." 1 A few moments later Paxton hurried t from his oflloe. lie bad resolved to try r; a rusa li in a vert brier space or time he 6tood before Judith Kredge. The woman had opened the door at his r! ring, and she seemed frightened at hi* j1 appearance. Paxton clutched her arm and said, > sternly: >j "I've found you out," and he produced 1 a pair of handcuffs, as he added: "Tell [: me what you have done with Marion H Oakburn, or I'll march you to prison." Judith Kredge trembled from head to t; foot, and e'-.e involuntarily made an l effort to free herself from the detective's grasp. The attempt was useless. CHAPTER XVIII. Judith Kredge ceased to struggle almost instantly, for she comprehended that she was powerless to contend with , the detective. "I don't know what you mean. I l' don't understand. Release me, I say!" 1 she cried, while her venomous eye flashed with the light of rage. 1 "You know what has become of Ma, rion Oakburn. Tell me where to find her, or as I have said I shall place you under arrest, and take you to prison." "It's a lie! I know nothing of Marion : .Oakburn," retorted Judith. : She was regaining her composure, and it she had instantly decided upon the ; course she would pursue in dealing with ' tne detective. ?ne naa resoivea to o? ] defiant. Paxton read in the expression of hei , hardened,cruel face that she had determined upon silence at any cost, and i he comprehended that his ruse had failed. The detective had not estimated Judith Kredge's character quite correctly. She was a woman of more force and res: olution than he had supposed, though ! bad given Jh^r credit fgr cunning and ' uSscrupuiousness. ^ ^rp The detective, of course had no ftU? thority to airesl Judith, and oomprej hending that it was useless to waste i words with her, he suddenly released ! her and turned to go. He paused in the door, and said in an ! intense Toioe; .' ~i give "you one warning, Judith ; Kredge: If Marion Oakburn is harmed i in any way, you shall suffer. Hear mj words, and so inform your confeder* ates." | Judith's answer was a mocking laugh. ' Paxton closed the door behind him with 1 a spiteful bang, and ran down the stepi to the street. He had not walked a block when h? came face to face with a man, at th< 6ight of whom he started and involun! tarily recoiled, while his hand dropped upon the butt of a pistol in his hip* pocket. In le man whom he had thus unex' pecteuly confronted Paxton recognized one Saul Hedden, a desperate burglar ! and safe-blower whom he had hunted down and sent to prison for a term ol : years. In open court, at the time of his con' viction and sentence to imprisonment, ' UA^/lAn "h or! vniroH if Ka HvpH 0 a UI UOUU^/U auu rvn vm MW ...... .; to regain his liberty, he would have his revenge?that he would kill Paxton on | eight. 1: The detective remembered the desperado's oath, and he believed that the ; wretch would not hesitate to attack him. Paxton did not mean to be taken at a i; disadvantage, and he was ready to draw his pistol at the first hostile movement on the part of the other. "Paxton the detective!" exclaimed i1 Saul Hedden. "Yea, you have recognized me; but ba ( warned, Saul Hedden, I am on my ; guard, and I have not forgotten youi threat," answered the detoctive. He knew Hodden's time had expired, [ and that he had been legally discharged from prison; therefore, he could not at. teir.pt his arrest. Paxtor.: expocted every moment that t the ex-ram vict would hurl himself upon him. But he did not do so. Inotoad, the desperado extended hia , band In a friendly manner, and he said: , "I take back my threat, Paxton; I I mean you no harm, and there's my hand I on it?if you'll take it." Paxton knew that there were reasons why the ex-convict snouia ieei gruwsiuj to him, but he had not supposed the desperado capable of entertaining any ol the finer feelings of humanity. The detective gave Saul Hedden a j searching look. j The other met his gaze squarely, and Paxton shook hands with him. 3 "I 6wore to kill you, Paxton, and I meant it at the time. But my wife hae told me since I came out of prison, how j she and the little one, the baby that was e born while I was in the 'jug,' were starving, dying of misery and want, when you found them in the attic where they lay deserted by all mankind; you saved my u wife and the baby, Paxton, and, crimd Inal though I have been, I've got human feelings in my heart. I'll never forgel g what you did for these helpless ones, and 0 If you can put me in the way of doing pou a good turn, I'm your man. And [t mark you, I'm on the square now, and ] mean to be honest. I did a heap ol 0 thinking in the prison, and I don't wanl my little boy to grow up and find "ul that his father is a criminal." Thus spoke Saul Hedden. There was a sort of rude eloquence ir his words and manner that carried con T*ri + Vt fV?nm Vll'llUil H1V11 s Paxton was sure that the man waf >f! perfectly sincere in all he said. He knew that previously to the time o it his imprisonment Hedden had been fa , miliar with all the resorts of the metro' y politan bandits, and au idea suddenly en tered his mind, that if this man wouU l" consent to serve him, he might succeet . where his most skillful auxiliaries hac * met only with failure. x ~ "It is possible you can do me a grea favor, and at the same time profit your ~ self. Como with me to my offico, and . )C will explain my meaning. IU Hedden hesitated. "If it is in the way of betraying ol( friends, old pals of other days, it's n< >y use for me to go with you. I can't sol out them as you know used to be ham and glove with me. I've shook them f- one and all, but I can't turn Judas," h< a* said, resolutely 'It Is not that. Ton misapprehend me Come with me, and permit me to ex plain," answered Paxton. Hedden followed the detective as hi moved forward thus speaking. "All right, if it's anything I can d< without betraying old friends," he said. Paxton did not reply until his offlcn was reached, and he knew there was n< possibility of being overheard by an] one who might make adverse use of hi confidence. Then he said: "You have heard of John Oakburn'f murder. Very good. I want to find th< assassin, whom I suspect is hiding ii the city. He is a novice in crime, un known to the police, and therefore i stranger to you. Will you help me You can go unquestioned into secre haunts of the dangerous classes when my men_ or myself couid never pene trate. xnrougn you me cowaraiy siay er of a poor old man may be brought U justice." "I don't like the work, but I want t< prove my gratitude to you and I'll un dertake It," answered Saul Hedden afte a moment of reflection. "It's a bargain!" cried Paxton, and h< reached his hand across the table an< preesed that of the ex-convict. Then he gave his new ally a minuto description of the man whom he believe< to be John Oakburn's murderer. That same day the ex-convict begai his task of exploring the slums of th? great city in quest of the assassin. Fortune seemed to have favored hin in the undertaking beyond anything Paxton had hoped, and the light of i new day had not dawned before he re ported to the detective that he believet he had stumbled upon the supposet assassin's hiding place at the very out set. "He is in the den of an old femal< 'fence'?areceirer of stolen property? and at this hour we shall find no one ii the place but the hag who is the keepei of the place, aad our man," said Hedden in conclusion. Paxton wa9 nlated. . He hurriedly provided himself with i disguise, end when all his preparations were completed ne saia to nis new assistant: "Lead the way. I am determined U arrest the assassin without delay. We will go alone, as I do not wish to awaker the suspicion of our game, which there would be great risk of doing were we accompanied by a force." "Eight. The people in the locality Into which I am about to lead you are euspiciouB, and most of them are in league with the old fence, whose customptr RnmfifciinAR ar?. A force would surely arouse suspicion. Word of o;n approach would surely bo passed to the old woman before we arrived, and we would have our trouble for our pains," said Hedden. Then Paxton and the latter hastened from the office. From the description which Hedden had given him of the female fence's secret gu^st, Paxton did not doubt that he was really tne man Le had so long unavailingly undertaken to capture. The detective believed that success was now almost within his grasp. Ete would hesitate at no danger now. The Louse of the female fence was sogn reached. Saul Heduen rapped on the door in a peculiar way, and after sliding a panel, through which she saw the ex-convict, the old female admitted the detective and his companion. . Hedden vouched for the detective. "It's all right, Gamar; only Hedder and a friend!" called out the old woman, and thereupon the Interior door opened and a man came forth. Dponlt.fi thft fact that he was sliarhtl^ disguised, the detective recognize<f the mail whom he believed to be John Oakburn's assassin. "Up with your hands! you are mj prisoner." But even as the detective spok j, the stranger bounded backward through the door, and as Paxton leveled his pistol al his vanishing form, a young girl suddenly appeared in the place left vacanl on the threshhold. At the sight of the girl who so anexpectedly confronted him, Pastor reelec back aB though he believed he beheld ar apparition. The girl in the door was Marian Oakburn! . Only for a second did Paxton lose hij presence of mind. Then he dashed forward to prevent the escape of the man who had disapeared, but Marion barrod his way. A pistol appeared in her hand, and a? she leveled the deadly weapon full .\1 the detective, 6he cried In ringing tonew "Halt, or I fire' Back for your lifel" [TO BE CONTINUED. ] I FIRST WHITE HOUSE BABV. Mrs. Wilcox Is a Clerk in the Treasury Department. The number of children born In the White House is small, being so far onlj six. They have not all had happy live* nor ones pleasanter tnan most peopie t notwithstanding the giory of their in> fant days. The first White Houst baby was a girl, and made her debul during the far away reign of Jackson back in 1S30. There was a space ol sixty-three years between the first anc the last White House baby. Who was the first? She was the daughter ol President Jackson's niece, who was th< wife of Andrew Jackson Donaldson This latter gentleman was the Thurbei MRS. J. A. WILCOX. [ of his day, and performed as Jackson'i * private secretary. Mrs. Donaldson Jackson's niece, not yet 20, came will her uncle to the White House to presid< , as its mistress. The first White IIous< . baby, Baby Donaldson.,prew up ant married a Mississippi gentleman?one< j In Congress?named Wilcox. Gen. Wil cox has now been dead full thirty years f and Mrs. Wilcox, who was the firs " baby to try the White House as a placi wherein to be born, has, since Grunt'i j Investigation Off, j Official?What's that? A man mi over and hurt? Notify the entire polic t force to watch for the bicyclist who di< it. r Policeman?But it wasn't a bicyclist It was a beer wagon. , (>:iicial?Oh. if that's nil, never mine * People are used to being run over b, j beer wa>r"ti<! ?? ' Vmvs. * Kaiser Wilhelm never talks so elc ' quently of peace as when he is review lng a big fleet of battleships. , i : WHAT WOMEN WEAR 8 FOR STREET WEAR MOHAIR 5 IS GREATLY USED IN PARIS. 9 5 The Latent Fad for Waists?Color to 7 Predominate in Millinery? 9 Up-to-Date Dust Cloaks. __ 7T" USEFUL rig of many possi/ \ bilities brought over from * Paris is a street costume of ? (Z mohair in a beautiful hucklet berry blae. Mohair is in Paris the 9 texture at present mo3t seen in plain " btreet powns, and the favorite model is a plain skirt and a box coat with a bacfc id one piece. 5 Sometimes this will hang plain from . a pointed joke, and in almost every r case two little openings are left at the bottom of the under arm seams, mak* ing the slitB seen in masculine or shirt * bottomp. Close stitching gives all i edges a neat tailor finish, and where' j the seams of some of the skirts will be left plain others will be strapped over i with narrow bands of the same mater? ial. The model of the skirt is a godeted back and a front cut of the 1 width of the material, which runs to ? bias seams into the back, and pro\ duces at the 6ide that outward flirt so I becoming and easy to the feet. The i buttons need will be great things as - big as butter plates, of smoked pearl, horn or fancy metal, and even those of * Dresden china, gayly flowered, are " said to be in good taste. * Again, a mohair gown will show no buttons at all, the fronts of the single ; ^ 1 j CRISP AND ( breasted jacket fastening neatly under r a stitched flap, such as finishes a man's box coat. , As for the French mohairs themi selves they are mcst beautiful. The ; handsomest patterns are enormously wide and in a loose sort of bunting ' weave, and not even in black do they suggest the shiny funereal things one [ is accustomed to associate with the ! name. In color the huckleberry blue is perhaps the latest tint, bat a more gracious and becoming one is a soft wavy brown that seems especially el' fective when worn with a blouse in any of the gentle greens now fashion' able. One brown mohair gown, that has , just made its debut iu New York, has t a bodice in crinked silk, patterned i gorgeously and confusedly with palm leaves in many colors. It was simply gathered at the neck and waist into a belt and stock of black satin ribbon, and the sleeves, which were entirely without stiffening, fell in a great loose r puff three-quarters length. This palm leaf silk, together with gauze pat? terued in the same way, is the very r latest French fads for waists. In some j of the gauzes the tones are wonderful, i great splotches of flame shading into emerald green, and again melting into , effects that are almost brown. No I trimmings are used with them, the many colorings of the texture being > the point intended for notice. There I are always a plain ribbon stock and 5 belt, however, and sometimes these f will reproduce a predominating tint in > xne gauze, emeraiu greeu, u uniuo xou, or else an orange buo that is positively startling. Indeed, if one is to judge from the bodices, and some of the flowerdecked bats that come over to us from Paris, color is to be more and more the thing as the season advances. Hats big and little are simply laden down with gay posies. In some cases, with the exception of a narrow fold of velvet that faces the under brim, there is not a ray of other trimming, unci the blossoms will be massed irrespective of tint or degree. Modest daisies, for iin6tance, will hobnob with gorgeous flags, and haughty orchids rub elbows with field violets. Again, on a single low crowned sailor hat there will be ivy leaves with the violets, and, besides, a wreath of roses with loose trembling petals that shade all the ~ way from palest pink to a red so deep that it is almost like the black of the ' famous German tulip. Sometimes, j indeed, there will be a black rose uu* der a brim, and with much color above 2 this never fails to be effective. % [ DrST CLOAKS. Who ever sees a dust cloak now-at days? No one. Not because the dust 2 cloak has ceased to exist, but because a it has become such a glorified creation that those who look lor it, remembering the old alpaca and linen "dust:i ers," fail to recognize it for what it e | is. The fin-de-siecle dust cloak is J | made of "gloria" silk, which is both I rain proof and dust resisting. It is so L I light that it will not crush the most elaborate dress?not even the sieeves I. ?and while it envelopes the entire y costume, the wearer of the garment does not suggest a tarpaulin wrapped parcel, because the coat looks smart in itself. What could be nicer than such a dust cloak for the dweller in suburban parts, the frequenter ofsub #'V. urban trains, the taker ot dusty cabs? Half the dread of a box party in the ovening or an afternoon "at home'' ?0 vanishes at the thought of a wrap ^^ ^ in AN IDEAL DUST CLOAK. to which shall protect the pretty toilette . < in its going and its returning, tor what woman is brave enougn to sally forth in light-colored silk, knowing well of the dust, ashes and cinders which beset the way, to say nothing of J1* surprised glances from fellow travel- Vj ' / all wl di ! l -M ' * /lt%i\A, : s I / v CO j I n ;OOL FROCKS. P1( ? dii ers at a too elaborate costume? pr Many of the new silk dust cloaks fall mi in straight, full lines from a gathered yoke, but the ideal garment is of bi< checked or striped or shot glace gloria ee Bilk, trimmed with lace and ribbon if sti the wearer wishes to look particularly to smart. Even rain cannot injure the pa * ' -Ml. J J A ir beauty 01 a gooa giona bus, auu uusl slides from it as water from a dock's hack. _ m, Alpaca is quite a good substitute for silk, when economy is desirable, but it will not keep out the rain. Camels- * hair cloth cleans splendidly and will ^ even wash, so it is a possible fabric, too, aud tissue crepon, whioh is light in weight and has a glossy surface, is another material somewhat in vogue. P Some of these wraps have wonderful bishops sleeves and guipure-edged , collars. In any case, the traveler of . to-day needs a dust cloak as surely as Jc she needs tan shoes and a toothbrush. ve ?Chicago TimeB- Herald. dainty straw hat. ^ It is noticeable that many straw hats are scantily trimmed, but examination will disclose the fact that the straw is very prettily colored and elaborately j_j woven. That, according to current j usage, makes permissible but little ^ trimming, which often consists of littie more than ore or two aigrette wj bunches of violets, the long stemt twisting into cords that pass about the brim. and. perhaps, catch it up here and there. This rule, however, is by | r* no means imperative, but is tasteful in its results, as can be judged by con- . sideration of this pictured hat which jQ is of old gold straw bent into deepei ^ points at the sides and coming down with a graceful sweep in front and ^ back. It is trimmed with a large bow of ribbon and bunches of pansiee, ^ smaller clusters of the flowers showinc _________________________ 01 /rffjff'lm/ t ' II I TV HAT OF OLD GOLD STRAW. 6V 61 beneath the brim. Around the Deck n scarf of mauve chiffon is worn that fc falls down the front in long ends and a is ornamented with bunches of pansies p] corresponding to toose on the hat. c] i With such a beautiful accessory to at- ]j( tract attention from the headgear there Bt is no danger of adverse criticism upon ^ the latter because of a lack of trim- w: ming, if, indeed, fault would be found ft even on close examination. y, . '' ' * t, V>' ^ J FINIS. ve, bearing many buiJens through th? I world, '} Home to the i lace where burdens are laid I iling she stretched her patient nands tot more, j These things are past '* said one, -'takft. now thy crown!" j ve always humble, when most beautiful, Drew back, as if such guerdon to denlore, whom the rosy angel softly sighed. V| 'The crown ot loving is t?> love the more.'^ v jB -C. M. Packard, in Youth*3 Companion ":^J PITH AND POINT. I| Time is money, because when yotl , } ,ve the money you can usually lind e time.?Life. niu viiu new wumau cut uvci uca -iSfifi oomers for little Mary?"?Loais- f*| lie Courier-Journal. The Wife?"It must be bedtime." . "..^8 le Hasband?"Hardly. The baby sn't waked up yet"?Life. The optimist who sees nothing but nshine will not wantonly lend his abrella to a stranger.-?Pack. | "First Girl?"Cholly isn't such ft ol as he looks." Second Girl?"No, ,? deed. He couldn't be."?Washing- / n Star. . "Do you laugh when you write a ke?" inquired his friend. "No," plied the humorist; "but 1 smile ien I sell one."?Pack. "3ugar," remarked Johnny, as he j'M ted several lumps to his open face, iasreached the top notoh, and & op may be expected.'1?Life. Women who marry in haste gener- yjffl >y repent at the kind of leisure lich accompanies the scrubbing ol j rt out of oloth fabrics.?Pack. "If history repeats itself," He murmured in elation.* iHo?aa#*a? T*11 m Q JUClCOllVl A it fcijr U4k%v Instead of recitation." ?Washington Star. . -os "Going on a vacation this summer?" Certainly. My doctor says I am in '-rtS ed of abont two weeks' hard work to : *fi it me in good health."?Indianapolis Mrs. Tapenny?"Did yoa know at the TJppertens have a family eleton?" Mr. Tapenny- "Oh, yes. . ie's oat there on the beach now.V misville Courier- Journal. "I'm very glad I don't live in Rome," ?,|a@ marked Mrs. Bickers. "Why?" ..J ked her hnsband. "I'm aare I never nld learn to read by the light of '*JB jman candles. "?Detroit Free Press. Mrs. Kirby (to her small son)? . Well, Johnny, what's the matter?" hnny?"Sister says she's an ad- J? need woman, and I've got to watch ''?2 e dolls while she sails the toy boat" Harper's Bazar. "Pa, I'll be sorry when you get ' ill," 6aid a little boy to his parent. $9 Why, my son?" "Beoause 1 won't t any more empty medicine bottle* '.Vjj sell. I sell them for a cent apiece the druggist-Tit-Bits. V Extraot From a Turkish Newspaper - M "His serene highness has been sased to watoh the feclipse, and haa \'-i rected the Lord Cbamberlaia to ex- -'J ess his entire satisfaction with the 33? . t>:X- -'l ignificent periormance. ?im-uiw, The fact that a Boston girl -who is *3j oycling around the \rorld has re- vvJs ived 150 offers of marriage einoe ^ irting on her trip may be expected encourage long journeys on the jrt of the unmarried fair sex.? eene Journal. Cobbs--"That was a pretty senti- ./M ent young Masher got off the other ght when bidding Miss Plumpy ?od-night." Dobbs?"3o! What wit!" Cobbs--"He said he wished e was looked in his arms and the iy lost."?Truth. Storekeeper?"How did you ever anage to get such crowds of women your store?" Retired Merchant? {Veil, now that I have gone out of , J isiness myself, I don't mind telling ^ >u. In the first place, I used to adrtise. In the second place, didn't >u ever notice those two big plateass mirrors just inside the entrance >ora?"?Somerville Journal. Why the Birds Were Tame. "The average pedler or vender iu exico is a swindler of the worst nd. The petty tricks and deceptions $ bich they practice well illustrates ,e character of the race." So said & . all known New York business man, ho spent part of last winter in the - #! ity of Mexico." "One day," continued he, "I took a roll along the Paseo, accompanied . 3 r my wife and daughter. A vender ippened along with four pretty little . rds perched on his finger. They* oked very tame, and, of course, my t. >ra roghter wanted at least two of them. t j "How much?" I asked, pointing to ie birds. " 'Dos pesos para todos,' replied "- 'Js te vender, meaning $2 for the whole j "Finally I bought two of the birds . tr twenty-five cents, and, putting lem into a little cage supplied by the ^ [exican, we carried them to our j$gi jartments. My little daughter imediately proceeded to get one of the ?ts out of the cage, so that she could aid it upon her finger. "The little bira maae a Dravo euort i maintain its equilibrium, but sud? ?nly toppled off and fell to the floor, be reader had tilled the poor thing -rj itb shot. Thus was their upparent . 'j meness explained. They could not ju r had they so desired. Withiu a few ' )urs both birds wers dead."?New ark HeralJ. w, A Whale's Spouting. The whale does not discharge water, ' ^ it only its breath. This, however, . rushing up into the air hoi from jf te animal's body, has the moisture >ndensed to form a sort of rain, and te colder the air, just as in the case : our own breath, the more marked ie result. When the spout is made ith the blowhole clear above the irface of the water, it appears like 0 -i. ~r -4. t _ tdrteu jei 01 steam iruiu ;i uuua, 'hen effected, as it sometimes i.?, be4 ,re the blowhole reaches the surface, ^ low fountain ns from si street fire ^3 ug is formed, and when the hole is ose to the surface at the moment $ ttle water is sent up with a tall jet oi earn. The cloud blown up does not sappear at once, but lianas a little bile, and this is often seen to drift short distance with the wind.?Xew ork Advertiser.