The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, June 22, 1910, Image 2
r~" | I
vr???????????
' IA BE!D| p
.
o
\ BY HLLA MIDDL
Author of :'The Smuegler,"
f.
O
ALL RIGHTS
| ?
^ Copyright. :930 by 3. R LIPPINCC
! CHAPTER IV. 5
Continued.
*
- I paused suddenly. She had bent
forward until her forehead nested on
the back of a cliair and her shoulders
shook suggestively. I had an uncomfortable
idea that Julia Smith
was crying and I was responsible.
So I believed apologies incumbent
and reluctantly approached.
"I'm sorry," I began. "I hope I
have not offended you, but "
She turned and raised her veil.
Julia Smith was really very pretty,
and the eyes that looked at me so
reproachfully were like wet violets.
i but it was not for this reason I
I paused so abruptly. On the third
finger of her left hand I had seen a
signet ring I k*if;w intimately.
In facv, it was my own, and she
wore it with a c*. mness vhat was
staggering. I was quite sure, for in
addition to my crest there was the ,
l: . little bit chippsd off the corner where ,
\ Randy had cccidentally hit it with
the poker on one memorable occaEjk.r.'
sion. , ,
"Well," she prompted "you were
!# Baying " i
But the cficer returned, and I ,
*ald no more. His preoccupied man- ,
r'i ner led me to think that something .
i-V* snore serious than our unfortunate
* ' complication bad been reported, and ,
/ the Hasty conclusion or our examination
confirmed this belief. .
"Do I understand, madam," he (
*. said, "that you claim you were merely
on your way to church to marry
this man?" 1
' Then did Julia Smith amply re- .
vengc herself for any lack of chiv- j
BfeV alrv on ray part. ]
"I marry that?" she said, and i
made no further comment. \
v Well, we were finally disposed of
after fruitless telephoning on my
:. part?not even Mrs. Stubbs respond!ng.
My companion was entrusted to
K*'t - the matron, and we were promised we ^
micht ape each other aeain in the
i morrV<g, in tbe presence of a witness.
Z-j, For my own part, I hoped we might
never meet again, and I have no
doubt Julia Smith entertained the
same sentiments. At any rate, she ,
. looked them.
I passed a restless night, and as
Boon as nossible in the morning de- 1
tnanded the papers. Startling black
- headlines confronted me, and I read
. them twice without comprehending
them.
STRANGE DISAPPEARANCE OF j
* MISS HARRIET SCHUYLER ,
ICOCt. PLAY S17KPECTID. j
"i ST7PPOBED MURDERER, STANFORD DE ,
COURSEY STARi..
STARR TS MISS1MO. .
I rubbed my eyes and lead again, ,
. only to discover that though Starr
- himself was missing, one H. D. Casey, (
" KMtiinnlilti lito oooAtnnlioo Txrac n 1
WIV0U1UUUIJ iiio UVVW?ULIilV.V, I* MM Ml /
^ V
ready in custody. Shorn of padding
the facts were simply these: s
Miss Harriet Schuyler, a maiden
lady of uncertain years, had left the .
house of a relative about four o'clock,
In the best of health and intending to
return to dinner. She had gone to
the rooms of a nephew she had not !
seen for some years, intending to
surprise him, and had a black bag.
Said bag also contained another par- ,
. eel which she appeared to value
greRlly, but her friends did not know
.what was in it.
When she failed to return they became
anxious, and, finding the telephone
of no avail, had sent to the
address she had given. She was not 1
there. !
She had been seen by Mrs. Stubbs.
the wife of the janitor, ascending the '
stairs that led to Starr's room, but !
Mrs. Stubb3 had not seen her come (
out again. All that day, however, !
Mrs. Stubbs had noticed signs of agitation
amcng the young men who
rented the top floor and had suspect- \
ed that something was wrong. She
had never entirely approved of them,
tout up to the present time they had
done nothing actually reprehensible
{(so far as she knew), beyond being
very uncertain with the rent and frivolous
of manner. She did not think
they ever went to church.
I laid down the paper with my
brain whirling. After a while a picture
slowly separated itself from the
chaos of my mind. It was the old
lady I had collided with when I ran
down-stairs that memorable night. I
seemed to hear her labored bieathing
as she climbed heavily upward and to
feel the soft velvet of her cloak as
my uana oru*nea against it. Again
I read the article, and noted the number
of the house from which she had
come.
"It is not possible." I ejaculated.
But in my heart I knew Aunt Harriet
hud gone to sec "Eertie," hoping
^o surprise him.
And Starr was missing.
CHAPTER V.
Casey told me about it when he
came to see me tbnt morning. Or at
least he told me all he knew, embellished
with many unnecessary comments.
As he was decidedly out of
temper at the time, I will repeat only
what actually happened and ignore
his private opinions, which don't
matter anyhow.
It seems that Ferguesson went out
Immediately after I Cud, apparently
in great naste, ana Casey was left in
solitary possession of oi!r living room.
He was just prcpRrinc1: to light bis
pipe when some one knocked; this
knock was repeated twice before he
i troubled himself to answer, then,
, -expecting Mrs. Stnbb?, he simply
growled. "Come In."
He w&k naturally surprised, therelore.
when a strange woman opened
the deer :??d wit iked iu. Casey said
<*h-" wok a very imposing personage
with several chins, and
<]r*s?eti in nurple velvet. She asked
L -
^ ^
OR rASLY.I ?
a
ETON TYBOUT,
' "PoUetown People," Eto. (
RESERVED. |
TT COMPANY. Philadelphia, Pa. J t
Al t
t
for Starr, then before he had time \
to answer gave a sort of screech and I
said: s
"Oh, I've left my bag in the cab." *
With that she turned and lumbered
down-stairs again, and he followed, s
reaching the first landing just as '
she went out the front door. There c
he paused and waited to see if she c
would come back, not knowing just r
what was expected of him. Sure *
enough, she did come back, and be 13
heard her interviewing Mrs. Stubbs,
evidently in a state of great excite- >'
ment; he also heard Mrs. Stubbs proffering
the public telephone in the 1
lower hall, and* instructing her as to
which door ou the upper landing led *
to Starr's room.
Casey said that at this point he E
retreated, stepping softly that the
stairs might not creak. He heard s
them creaking loudly, however, a 0
little later, and a knock at Starr's d
door; he also heard the door open and *
shut and a murmur of voices. Being, e
as he said, a person who always at- P
tended strictly to his own business, 0
thank God, he had heard noj more. D
He had gone alone to the vaudeville
and had come home, expecting we
should all drop in as usual, but in- a
stead found the house ia an uproar b
and our rooms swarming with police.
"And," he continued, "when I read
the morning paper and saw that 'H.
D. Casey' had been arrested as an v
accomplice, I knew right away it was P
Dne of you and came to see which.?
"Where is Starr?" I asked.
"I don't know; I wish I did. I'm a
troubled, Billy, and I think you've 1
all lost your wits. The old lady went
Into his room, that's certain. fI might
hope I was mistaken, but one glove r
ivas on the table and a feather on the
floor."
"A feather?"
"Yes, a white one. From her bon- f
net. they said."
"It's preposterous," I said. "Why, j
the very idea "
"Yes," agreed Casey; "of course. ^
But why doesn't he show up? He
must have seen the papers. I know
it's preposterous?but it's queer."
Tf woo* T nftii 1 r? r?r\+ /lonv if Wo
sat in silence a moment, then my own g
unpleasant predicament became up- ^
permost in my mind, and I broached
the subject of bail. j(
"No go," said Casey. . t
"Why not?" p
"They won't accept it. You see, ^
rou're mixed up with this thing also, u
in account of the cab and the black c
bag. And I must say, Billy, accord- ^
ing to your own story, you've been a c
precious fool, to say the least. What
Jo you want to go cavorting around 0
in cabs and eloping with strange wo- v
men for?"
I answered this question by an- p
Dther, as the least embarrassing mode ^
>f reply. f,
"What does Randy think about it
ill? You haven't mentioned him." j,
'I don't know," returned Casey.
'He's missing too."
"What?" *
Casey threw up his hands with a h
Tncfnro r?ocnQlr
"Oh, yes," he said: "you're all p
missing, and you've all gone clean
irazy, as far as I can see. You and n
Starr mixed up in a police row, and t!
Flandy gone?vanished and left no tl
;ign. I'm not sure that I am not fi
about ready for a lunatic asylum my- >
self." f(
The opening of the door prevented s
my replying, and a rustle of skirts s'
caused us both to rise involuntarily.
My heart went down into my boots, t:
and I felt the blood mounting uncomfortably
to m:* face, as Mrs. Joseph C
Robinson confronted us with majestic
scorn. Aunt Josephine had no need o
for mere words to tell us what she
thought, for it was written large
all over her. Nevertheless, she
spoke, and, to my astonishment, she
ignored me completely anG addressed e
Casey. v
"So here you are," she said. ii
He could not contradict so obvious a
a fact, so he merely bowed. Casey e
was not graceful; apparently he sim- e
nlv undid a hinee in his back and let li
himself down, then closed it up again, ?
Mrs. Robinson continued. I
"I shall not at present tell you my f
opinion of your conduct, nor what I o
think of your shameless abuse of my p
hospitality. For shameless it is." c
Again Casey undid the hinge. He a
has since told me that it was the n
only thing he could think of at the a
time, so he did it at intervals during u
the conversation and felt like a joint- I
ed doll. a
"No," said Mrs. Robinson; "this ^
is no place for flTfc to linger, although a
under the circumstances, it seems to r
be most suitable for you. I have
come to demand my niece."
14 v nn Ix* rro tro tt? r> tr o t? rl
iuj aurco ouuuciiij ? u? , anu
I collapsed upon the nearest chair,
quite unnoticed, for Casey bowed
again and Mrs. Robinson glared
fiercely.
"I have come," she repeated, "to
demand my niece."
"I haven't got her," returned
Casey, goaded to retort.
"Falsehood and equivocation are
useless. Mr. Casey. My niece, my
own niece, is incarcerated in this
place under the name of Julia Smith.
Foolishly romantic she may be, but
1 know she is not an accomplice in
your crime, for a Welles was never
yet a criminal. So 1 have come to
take her home." t
"Very kind in you. j'm sure," re- t
marked Casey. "There is no place :
like home, is there?" (
This flippancy was so displeasing to t
Aunt Josephine that for the first time c
she deigned to acknowledge my presence.
"Mr Leigh." she said, "T cannot t
congratulate you upon your choice of J
associates but I am suie von did not t
ealize what you were doing when
ou brought this man to my house."
I murmured something unintelli;ible
and waited for more.
"Is it not sad." remarked Mrs.
tobinson, indicating Casey with an
ccusing finger, "to see one so calous?"
"Sad indeed," I agreed.
I was beginning to realize that
Casey's name, not mine, had figured
n the papers, when she turned to
he door.
"I am informed," she said, "that
his misguided young man will be
aken to prison this morning?there
o languish and, I hope, repent. We
vill leave him to his reflections, and
, at least, will pray for him, for at
ome time in his career he must have
lad a mother."
Casey did not attempt to deny this,
ind I said nothing, being occupied
nth an"idea that had suddenly ocurred
to me. It was a desperate
hance, but for Nancy's sake I would
isk anything, and the knowledge
hat she had not returned to the
touse filled me with forebodings.
"Will you allow me to see you to
our carriage?" I airily inquired.
'And perhaps I may be of some furher
service to you."
"Hold on, there!" ejaculated Casey,
iut we both ignored him superbly.
"TKonir ?nn \Tr T.piVh! von are
x uaun j vu | m* ?-^ - ? -? Qost
kind." She
knocked on the door as she
poke, and it was opened from withut.
. I could see that the officer on
uty was not one I had encountered
he night before, and was therefore
normously relieved. Mrs. Robinson
iassed out and I followed, Casey'B
vercoat on my arm and his hat in
jy hand.
"Good-by, Casey," I said aloud.
Think it over and try to take my
dvice about making the best of a
ad matter. Good-by."
I caught a glimpse of Casey standag
with his mouth open, but speech-**
J T
ass, men me uuur swuug iu ouu j.
r&s free?free to come and go as I
leased, for a while at least, and to
o what I could toward unravelling
he snarl that seemed to enmesh us
11; free to look for Nancy, and when
found her
But Mrs.. Robinson was speaking.
"As soon as I see my niece I am
eady, Mr. Leigh."
I came back to earth with a dull
hud.
"Mrs. Robinson," I began impresively,
for I did not wish to be conTented
by Julia Smith, "I assure
ou that your niece is not here. I?
happened to see the young woman,
nd I am quite certain about it. She
as red hair and does not in the least
esemble Miss Welles."
Aunt Josephine wavered.
"If you are quite sure "
"I am absolutely certain," I assevrated,
edging toward the door, for
he open air looked good to me.
Somehow it was done. Unchal
snged, I went from the police staion
in the wake of Mrs. Robinson,
assing respectful officers, one of
rhom kindly held the door open for
s, and out to the street, where n
arriage waited at the curb. Never
efore had cobblestones and trolleyars
appealed to my sense of the
eautiful, but to-day they seemed the
pen sesame to all that made life
rorth living.
I held the carriage door open, inpatient
to get away from a nieghbcrood
where danger certainly lurked
or me.
"Please get in," said Mrs. Robason.
"I want to talk to you."
I obeyed, wondering what next.
"Mr. Leigh," she began at once,
I am in great, trouble. My niece
as eloned."
I could think of no appropriate rely,
so I remained silent.
"She went last night, leaving a
ote for me. I supposed, of course,
he man was Mr. Casey. When I read
he papers this morning I was horMed
and went at once to get her,
low I am more troubled than ever,
or not only am I ignorant of where
he is, but I do not know with whom
he went."
Neither did I, and I also was very
roubled. I hazarded a question.
"Did she?Miss Welles?say it was
lasey?"
Mrs. Robinson drew a crumpled bit
f paper from her muff.
To be Continued.
Novels as Serials.
Book buyers and collectors 01 first
ditions will be interested in the reival
of the practice of issuing novels
a monthly parts. Fifty or sixty years
p-n thp nmrtirp was rnmmnn enrnieh:
aost of the popular works of the
arly Victorian novelists were so pubished
and the appearance of installents
of Thackeray in yellow and of
)ickens in green was eagerly looked
orward to by hundreds of thousands
f readers. If a story really arouses
iublic interest, this method of puliation
is very profitable to the author
.nd the publisher, but it is by no
aeans certain that the production of
ny living writer will rival the popilarity
of any of the classic novelists.
>erhaps the only author likely to
;chieve success in monthly guise is
Villiam F. de Morgan, whose style
pproximates that of the early Victoian
writers.?New York Sun.
Signal Fligs.
Signalling by ftygs, as the term Is
low universally understood, was in
rented in the year 1854 by Surgeon
flyer, of the United States Army. Beore
Surgeon Myer's invention the
>nly flag signaling was by color, but
ealizing the inadequacy of such a
node of conveying information. Dr.
flyer studied out the system of "wigvagging."
or talking by making moions
with the flag, a sort of deaf and
lumb telegraphy, which has since
>een adopted by pretty nearly all the
lations of the world.
Letter to Santa.
Note to the philanthropists from
he Oakley (Kan.) Graphic: "One
housaDd four hundred and ninety,
line dollars dropped in our stockiDS
Christmas night would enable us to
my a linotype. We have saved the
)ther dollar in the last four years."
A New York man who ate sixty
juckwheat cakes and two pounds of
:ausage said he would have done beter
if he had beex1 hungry.
/
i
" . * "Tr.1'
A model electric engine, built by 1
Thomas Davenport, a poor black- i
imith of Brandon, Vt., and operated t
)n a small circular .track in 1834,, i
orobably was the first electric railway j
!n the world. ' 1
To prevent operators of small ma- ]
chines driver, by electric motors for- i
setting to turn off the current when 1
chey leave them, a mat containing a i
switch has appeared in the market.
When an operator steps from the mat ]
i che circuit is broken.
Two surgeons, F. B. and C: C. 1
Guthrie, propose the use of human '
hair for sewing up wounds, particu- i
larly in blocd vessels. Experiments <
made with such sutures upon a dog
proved highly successful. 1
"No substunce that refuses to dis- *
solve in water has an odor," says a
writer. "For it is the actual sub- 1
stance itself, floating in particles in 1
the air, that appeals to the nose, and 1
not simply a vibration of the air, as 1
in the case of light and sound. The
Samper a thing is the more powerful i
the odor it gives off. A pleasant
proof of the fact can be had by walking
in a garden after rain."
A new system of treating eggs so
as to prevent them from growing
stale when in cold storage has been I
discovered in Rochester. This consists
in subjecting the eggs to an elec- i
trical current. The theory is that
2ggS wuen p.iaueu iu swiagc a. ^
alive and are gradually frozen to
ieath, whereas if the life is destroyed
by an electrical current before they
ire placed in storage they do not
taste stale, even when kept on ice
for a long period.
The shore of the sea permits the
study of more than the poet's horizon
Dr tinted shell. There are tiny animals
that live and move among the
plants of the sea, and these may be
observed clinging to any favorable
jcean object. "A small fragment of
bark, streaming with fine plant-like
growths," s?.ys Howard J. Shannon,
In Harper's, is cut from the waterworn
timber:? which the receding tide
oas exposed; and this apparently insignificant
fragment, populous with
j junous me, is piaceu in a gmtse <
water beneaih the microscope . . .
Veritable miniature forests appear,
gndless vislas open, teeming with
curious interest and populated by
creatures more strange and more
wonderful than any the imagination
ian conceive."
BHOtimaMiMMNMiatia
I The Evolution of a 2
? Gentleman. 5
?
MaaieianeMCMiiMMvoci*
If one turn back' to the sixth centdry
before Christ to find out what
was required of a gentleman one is
rewarded by finding that, though the
ideal has grown, it has never radically
changed; though, in the course of
ages, it has had superfluous accretions
that have been lopped off again,
It remains essentially one growth.
r"t * * * -i- 4-1s* nrKnlA
ine iieuriemug pan ui mc uuuic i
matter is that humanity, in the"voice !
of its wise men, has never ceased tie- !
manding certain unswerving ideals.
To this ideal the chief contribu- '
tion of Epictetus was the Stoic indif- j.
ference, retraining from all such
things as are not under our control. \
When it wa? reported to Agrippinus J
that his trial was going on in the I
Senate he replied: "I hope it may j
! turn out wall. But now it is the fifth {
hour; let us go and take our exer- j
cise." And having taken his exer- j
cise, one reported to him, "You are j
condemned." Then he said, "Let us
go to Aricia and dine."
Practically what Epictetus had to I
add to the ideal of a gentleman was
that he should never make himself |
ridiculous by inflated hopes or waste I
his energies in kicking against the
pricks. "Seek not that the things
which happen should happen as you
wish, but wish that the things which
happen be as they are."
It seems that modern life has add!
ed two more qualities to the ideal
iu.i _
01 a gentleman; oue, mat wuicLi to ou |
beautifully depicted by Pater as ~he i
attribute of almost all bis heroes ex- !
cept Sebastian van Storck; it is ".be
quality which led Marius to take as
his motto through life, "Trigtem,
neminem fecit;" a kind of tender susceptibility
to the necessary sorrow
and desolation of liuman life which
led him to go softly all his days in
fear of hurting others. The final
quality, not once hinted at in the
earlier ideals, is that of self-effacement
which. Browning points out in I
| his hero, Horakles, when he says of
him:
"He held his life out lightly on his
hand
For any man to take."
A distinguished quality, too, of our
own great Lincoln, who. when he was
urged to declare suddenly the emancipation
of all the slaves, told his
emissaries that the proclamation was
not feasible, but added: "We shall
need all the anti-slavery feeling in
the country and more; you can go
home and try to bring people to your
views; and you may say anything you
like about me, if that will help.
Don't spare me."
' I "Don't spare me." a life held light- j
ly, a courage hardly even aware of \
I itself, an enthusiasm for great j
j causes; aye, and for each and any j
I member of this great thing we call j
! human society, which utterly effaces ;
> the self, this is the last addition to ,
j the ideal of a gentleman.?Harper's ;
Weekly.
| The cotton cloth needed to clothe
the inhabitants of China is about
eight billion yards. This amount
, would carpet a pathway sixty feet
wide from the earth to the moon. 01
rover one more than twenty mile>
wide from New York to Chicago.
The United States army, including
the military academy, costs $103,727,000,
and the navy $136,000,000..
, I
TOWN TAKES BEAUTY CURB.
Claremont, N. H., Does Not Propose
to Grow Ugly.
"People who have an idea that all
;be old hijl towns of New England
ire degenerate, back water places,
should visit Claremont, N. H., writes
i correspondent of Country Life in
America. "A cleaner, happier, more
prosperous-looking and generally attractive
place would be hard to find.
Its people, good old New Englanders,
ire self-respecting, public-spirited
folk who are proud of their town and
ire as little dependent upon New
Fork or Boston as they are upon
Pekin.
"A town of such natural beauty is
less in need of village improvement I
than are moGt others. It's a clean
3ort of climate, and big trees are
oative to the place?elm, maple, lo:ust,
butternut, oak, birch and poplar,
besides the evergreens. But
Claremont is wise enough to take
time by the forelock and has started
a campaign to save its old trees.
"The Claremont Board of Trade is
the active body in this case and they
took up the work last summer under
the supervision of Prof. B. S. Pickett,
horticulturist from the State College.
He came to town and made a personal
inspection of each shade tree
in the park, on the streets and in the
front yards. He diagnosed the ailment
of each tree needing treatment
and noted the diagnosis and recommended
treatment on a sheet prepared
for the purpose, each tree being
numbered for identification.
"The report was classified and
Btudied and then placards suggesting
the needed treatment were printed
tVm nrnnor trppfl. The
a LIU lativcu cu tuv |/iv^v.
matter of applying the cure was then
up to the owners of the property on
which or before which the trees
stood, as in New Hampshire the municipality
has no control over the
trees except for park or highway purposes.
After the trees had been labelled
the horticulturist came again
at the invitation of the Board of
Trade and gave a public illustrated
lecture on the subject of tree's and
tree surgery, explaining the methods
of treatment, etc.
"At first there was noticeable a
certain amount of indifference and
torn nnhlic-minded cit
izens. started in to have their trees
doctored and proved how easily and
cheaply it could be done. Soon others
followed their example and then
the thing became contagious, and the
man who wasn't doing a little tree
doctoring was strictly out of date.
All the trees on the town common
and around the cemetery in the middle
of the village were treated by
order of the Selectmen, acting on
suggestions received from the Board
of Trade. About 250 trees in all were
treated during the single season. The
total cost to the board of this splendid
crusade was about ?50."
Steadfastness.
Mayor Magee, of Pittsburg, was
talking about an obstinate man.
"He is 'sot' in his ways," said the
Mayor. "He. is as bad as the old
planter of history.
"An old planter in the palmy days,
before the war, was blown up in a
steamboat accident on the Mississippi.
They fished him out unconscious. At
the end of an hour's manipulation he
camfe to.
" 'Where am I?' he asked, lifting
1 J
jam iieau iccuij.
" 'Safe on shore,' the doctor told
him, cherfully.
" 'Which side of the river?' he inquired.
" 'The Iowa side,' the doctor replied.
"The planter frowned. He looked
at the turbid yellow stream. Then he
said:
" 'Just my luck to land in a prohibition
State. Chuck me in again.' "
?Washington Star.
Last Words of Monarchs.
King Edward VII.?"I know this
is the end. Tell the Queen."
King Charles V.?"Ay?Jesus!"
Charles I. (as he laid his head on
the block)?"Remember."
Charles II.?"Don't let poor Nelly
starve." (Referring to Nell Gwynne,
the actress.)
Napoleon?"Mon Dieu! La nation
Francalse?tete d'armee!"
Richard Coeur de Leon?"Youth,
I forgive you." (To Bertrr.nd de
Gourdon, whose arrow killed him.)
t wT ? "TGVonrhnien. I die
JUUU19 A. . . __
guiltless of the crime imputed to me.
Pray God my blood fall not on
France. If so?"(and the knife of
the guillotine feU).
Marie Antoinette?"Farewell, my
children, forever, I go to your father."
Frederick the Great?"We are over
the hill. We shall go better now."
(Spoken after a final fit of coughing.)
For Scandalmongers.
The Orleans Museum has just been
enriched with a curious relic of the
past, which some workmen in making
excavations in the city came across.
It is a stone representing a grinning
figure, showing the teeth, the countenance
being repellant enough. In
this way the loquacious woman, the
scandalmonger, was brought to her
senses. The stone, suspended by a
chain, was placed round her neck,
and so accoutered, she was compelled
to walk round the town in which she
lived. The stone is supposed to date
about the sixteenth century. Our
French friends are fond of calcula
- * nmro cnfflf?iont
tions, so ii one muuc ?<v^i^ o^...??
for a town three centuries ago, the
problem suggests itself, how many
such instruments of torture would be
necessary to-day to deal with the unruly
members of the fair sex??London
Globe.
Cut Off in Infancy.
Mrs. Jones had been reading of
germ laden banknotes.
"Goodness gracious!" she exclaimed.
"George, do you really
know how deadly dangerous money
really is?"
"I should say I do," replied her
husband. "Look at the number of
bills it has killed at Albany."?Puck.
The average annual death rate
among all the armies of the world is
nine in each thousand.
- *
New York City.?Shirtwaists that
are made with moderate fulness are
much in vogue just now and are very ]
generally becoming. This one is laid ]
in a succession of pleats, but all ex- ]
cept the outermost are stitched for j
full length so that there is only a 1
limited amount of fulness. The middy (
collar, the neck, is a novelty, and the
slightly open neck makes a feature 01
the season. The blouse is adapted to
both the odd waist and the entire
gown and to almost all the simpler
seasonable materials, linen, madras,
pongee, cotton poplin and also the
thinner lawns anil batistes, for waists
of this kind are made from all.
White linen makes this one, however,
and is trimmed with bands of rose
color, while the tie is made to match.
If three-quarter sleeves are not liked
long ones in regulation shirtwaist
style can be substituted.
The waist consists of fron,.- and
back. The collar is joined to the
neck edge and the closing is made at
the centre front, where there is a
wide box pleat. The elbow sleeves
are gathered into bands and finished
.with rolled over cuffs, but the long
Dnes are finished with over-laps and
straight cuffs in shirtwaist style.
The quantity of material required
for the medium size is four and onebalf
yards twenty-one or twenty-four,
three yards thirty-two or two and
one-half yards forty-four inches wide,
with three-eighth yard twenty-four
Inches wide for the bands.
Velvets in Vogue.
Paris costumers show many readyto-wear
costumes constructed of
chiffons, marquisettes and chiffon
sloths built over satin foundations.
Another Paris fashion idea favors the
use of velvets for next fall and winter.
Velvets were much in evidence
in Paris and other fashion centres last
season. Velveteens will doubtless
participate in the Increased demand,
and as raw cotton is now about sixty
per cent, higher than It was at this
time last year, prices of velveteens
are steadily advancing.
Girl's Coat.
j In Full or Three-Quarter Length,
With Notchod or Shawl Collar,
With or Without Pockets.
Embroidered Russian Blouse.
The Russian blouse suit opens
many possibilities for the needleworker
to make her own embroidery.
A straight embroidered band along
the left-front side of the jacket is
' suggested. It may be braided or
I plainly embroidered. A ciicular
piece, with scant ruffle at the edge.
I can be used for a collar. Cuffs may
j be trimmed or left plain. A small de'
sign on the frout panel of the skirt
is stylish.
Fashionable Sleeves.
The sleeve of raglan or kimono
cut is in again. It is none too easy
of accomplishment, and there is no
cause of dissatisfaction on the part of
j the amateur who is not wholly sucj
cessful in her first attempt. It needs
a certain breadth of shoulder and
should be avoided by those who would
gain width in effect at least. The
raglan sleeve in the main has a narrowing
effect, but is well suited to the
woman of comfortable proportions
and generous shoulder measurements.
Cut On the Bias.
Old bias band trimming has been
revived and is seen on gingham, on
silk and on cloth. Some of the ver7
latest black-and-white striped clothsin
Paris are simply trimmed with
the same material cut on the bias and
stitched in the good, old-fashioned
way.
f
Princesse Bathing Suit. ^ V/
The princesse bathing suit Is an '
exceedingly smart one and greatly in
vogue this season. Illustrated is a.
model made with close fitting body
portion and pleated skirt, so that It.
gives princesse lines and comparative
snugness at the same time that
It is loose and free at the lower,portion.
There are dart-fltted knickerbockers,
too, that do away with bulk
over the hips, yet are abundantly
wide at the knees. Dotted silk with
bands of plain is the material illustrated,
but mohair is always a standard
material for bathing Bujta, pongeeis
much *liked and all materials that
are correct for such costumes can be
utilized for this one with trimmings
of contrasting material or banding asliked.
If preferred the neck can be
made round instead of V-shaped.
The suit is made with the bodv portion,
the skirt and bloomers. The
body portion consists of front, back
and side-front and side-back portion?.
It is joined to the skirt or flounce,
which is straight and pleated, and the- closing
is made at the left of the?
front. The sleeves lire gathered inta
bands. The bloomers are made with
front and back portions and are
closed at the sides.
The quantity of material required
for the medium size is nine yards
twenty-four, eight and one-fourtht
yards twenty-seven, four and threefourth
yards forty-four or fifty-twoinches
wide, one and one-half yards
twenty-seven for bands.
White Linen Salts.
Tailored suits of white linen 8^0W
collars and cuffs of foulard or of a.
plain satin in contrasting tones?
rose, old blue, tan, lavender and the
like.
Girl's Costume.
With Gathered Sleeves In Full or
Three-Quarter Length or Plain
Loose Sleeves.
Printed Stockings.
Fashions for printed things extend
even to the pretty stockings.
They are undeniably pretty, and so
dainty as to be altogether in keeping
with white buckskin pumps. They
are made with a white background
and printed with groups of pink blossoms
about an inch in diameter. The
only other pattern on them is the
drop-stitrh, which forms an invisiDiebar,
as background for the flowers.
They come in silk and lisle.
Striped Collars.
Collars, the plain turnover variety,
are once more embroidered upon
striped linen and in the color of the
stripe. This is a particularly attractive
idea for the wearer of black and
white, and in lavenders it produces a
most attractive effect.
Handsome Uaj^s.
There are many attractive new
hand-bags. Some of them are lined
with suede, others with moire, v/hil?
still others-have no lining at til.
I