Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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THE HERALD DARLINGTON VOL. I. CHURCHES. Presbyterian Church.—Rby. J. G. Law, Paitor; Preaching every Babbath at 11) a. in. and 8 p. m. Babbath School at 10 a. m., Prayer Meeting every Wednesday afternoon at 5 o’clock. Methodist Church. - Rev. J. A. Rice, Paator; Preaching every Sunday at 111 a. m. and 8 p. m., Sabbath School at 5 p. m., Prayer Misting every Thursday at 8 p. m. Baptist Church.—Rev. G. B. Moore, Paster; Preaching every Sunday at Hi a. m and 8:30 p. in., Prayer Meeting every Tuesday at 8 p. m. Episcopal Chapel.—Rev. W. A. Guerry, Rector; II. T. Thompson, Lay Reader. Preaching 3rd Sunday at 8:30 p. m., Lay Reading every Sunday morn ing at H o’clock, Sabbath School every Sunday afternoon at 5 o’clock. Macedonia Baptist Church.—Rev. I. P. Brvckington, Pastor; Preaching every Sunday at H a. in. and 8:30 p. m. Sabbath Schcol at 3:30 p.m., Prayer Meeting every Tuesday evening at 8:30 o’clock. COUNTY OFFICERS. Sheriff. — W. P. Cole. Clerk of Court.—W. A. Parrot, Treasurer.—J. E. Bass. Auditor.—W. H. Lawrence. Probate Judge.—T. H. Spain. Coroner.—R. G. Parnell. School Commissioner.—W. H. Evans. County Commissioners.—C. B.King, W. W. McKinzie, A. A. Gandy. professional dorbs. w. F. DARGAN, ATTORNEY’ AT LAW. Darlington, C. H., 8. C. Office over Blackwell Brothers’ store. E. KEITH DARGAN, ATTORNEY’ AT LAW, Darlington, 8. C. N ETTLES & NETTLES, ATTORNEYS AT LAYV, Darlington, C. II., 8. C. Will practice in all State and Federal Courts. Careful attention will be given to all business entrusted to us. P BISHOP PARROTT, stenographer and t y p e-writkk. LEGAL AND OTHER COPYING SOLICITED. Testimony leported in short-hand, and type-written transcript of same fur nished at reasonable rates. Good spelling, correct punctuation and neat work guaranteed. Office with Nettles & Nettles. c P DARGAN, ATTORNEY AT LAW AND TRIAL - JUSTICE, Darlington, 8. C. Practices in the United States Court and in the 4ih and 5th circuits. Prompt attention to all business entrusted to me. Office, Ward’s Lane, next to the Dar lington Herald office. DARLINGTON MARBLE WORKS. DARLINGTON MARBLE WORKS. DARLINGTON MARBLE YVOHKS. -ALL KINDS OF— MARBLE MONUMENTS, MARBLE MONUMENTS, Tablets and Grave Stones furnished at Short Notice, and as Cheap as can be Purchased Else where. fiF" Designs and Prices Furnished on Application. fW AH Work Delivered Free on Line of C. & D. R. R. DARLINGTON MARBLE WORKS, ’ DARLINGTON MARBLE WORKS, ‘ DARLINGTON, S. C. FIRE ! 'FIRE! I Represent Twelve of the most Reliable Fire Insuiance Compa nies in the World—Among them, the Liverpool and Lon* ■* don and Globe, of England, .the $ ' Largest Fire Campany in the . World; and the vEtni, pf Hart-' > ford, the Largest of all Anseri- '' can Fire Companies. Prompt Attention to Business and Satisfaction Guaranteed. F. E. NORMENT, DARLINGTON, S. 0. Office between Edwards, Norment & Co., and Joy & Banders', CO’ BOSS.E. While soft the summer twilight falls. Ere yet the westering light is hid. Or in near trees the hyla calls. Or starts its twit the katykid, The slow paced heavy uddered kine Move homeward at the milkmaid’s cry, By devious paths in crooked lino. Briudleand Spot, Dimple and Dot, And petted silken coated Floss, Each knows the voice that calls, and why: “Co’bos! Co’bossie! Co* bos!” How memory takes us back to homes, Some alien but to memory now. When soft the summer evening comes. And far we hear the looing cow And soo the herd wind down the lane. Responsive to the well known call That brings it to be milled again. Brindle and Spot, Dimple and Dot, And venturous, roaming, frisky Floos Snatching the wheat ears o’er the wall: “Co’ bos! Co’ bossie! Co’ bos!” Perhaps we knew the milkmaid thcr. One sweet as God makes farmer’s girls; With gentle, helpful ways, and ken Of only thoughts as pure as pearls, Her gift and smile made water wine; Her handiwork changed milk to gold; And ne’er was music more divine, Brindle ari l Spot, Dimple and Dot And fawn-eyed, free, familiar Floss, Than was her call to you, of old: “Co’ bos! Co’ bossie! Co’ bos!” Loved rural scenes of farm and fields Which retrospective thought recalls. The different present to you yields Its twilight of memorial halls: Till half in dream, and half in truth, The simpler life the country lives Restores at times our vanished youth; Brindle and Spot, Dimple and Dot, Come home at milking time with Floss, And some lost voice the old call gives, “Co’ bos! Co’ bossie! Co’ bos!” —Almont Jiarnes, in Cosmopolitan. A GENUINE SURPRISE. BY HELEN FOHREST GRAVES. - The depot at Swampy Cornprs was never a picturesque spot even in the.blue glow of the sunniest June day; but on this chill October night, with the first snowflakes of the season eddying in the slow, undecided way that first snowflakes have through the gray air, and the tall hemlocks swaying this way and that in tho raw wind, it looked especially dreary. Emily Elkton shuddered as she stood looking out of one of the panes of glasa clumsily inserted in the log frame-work by way of window. “No, Miriam,” said she, “you can’t go-” “But I’ve got to go I” said Miriam Mudge, sympathetically compressing her lips ns she tightened the straps of the parcel she was fastening one notch at a time. “And leave me here alone?” “Nobody won’t hurt you, I reckon,” said Miriam, a strong-featured woman of forty, with a bristling upper lip like a man’s. “If you go,” said Emily, “I’ll go tool’” “Not much,’’composedly spoke Miri am. “Thar ain’t room in Pete Muller’s buckboard for so much as u sheet o’ paper arter me and bim’s in. Besides, wnat’u your Uncle Absalom say when lie comes back and finds nobody to hum? Ef the fire goes out, everything’ll freeze stiff, and— Yes, Pete, I’m a-comin’; thar ain’t no need to stand there a-bcl- lerin’ like a Texas steer! Good-by, Emily! Oh, I forgot!” coming back and mechanically lowering her voice, al though there was no one but the gray cat by the stove to overhear the words. “The ticket money and two roUs o’ gold eagles as the paymaster’s call for to- morrer in the noon train is in the red chest under your uncle’s bed. I reckoned It ’uct be safer thar than in the mcncy- draw’. Don’t forget to give it to him lust thing lie gets back.” •’Forget!” echoed Emily, wringing her hands in frantic desperation. “Bui I won’t be left in charge of it 1 I’ll as sume no such responsibility. I insisl upon you taking it with you.” The remonstrance, however, came too late. Miriam bawled out some indis tinct reply, and the next sound Miss Elkton heard was the creaking of the buckboard wagon as it turned the sharp curve below the gleaming line of the rail way switches. “She’s gone,” cried Emily, clasping her hands like the tragic muse, “and left me alone with all that money! And tb< navvy camp only three miles up the mountains, full of Italians and Chinese and the miners at Lake Lodi, and the whole neighborhood infested witli des peradoes I And Uncle Absolom not ex pected home until two o’clock in the morning, and tho bolt broken off the door, and the key’s a misfit, and noth ing but a hook and staple between me and destruction.! Oh, why didn’t. I stay in Rhode bland! What evil spirit pos sessed mo to come out here to Dakota, .where one.might as well bgijopiied alive wld done wittuit!” .- Eiuily Elkton sat down' and cried heartily, rocking herself forward and back, and sobbing out loud, like a child "whoso .lice of bread and molasses bos been taken away from it; And not until the candle flared up, with an extra-sized ■“winding-sheet” wrapped around ‘ iti wick, and the cat rubbed itself, persist ently against her knee, did she arouse to the quadruple fact that puss wanted hei supper, the fire was low, the candh needed snuffing, and there was no sort of use in tears. I DARLINGTON, S. C., WEDNESDAY, MARCH 18, 1801. M—i .I Emily bad come out West, partly be cause there seemed nothi ng do do al home, and partly because Uncle. Absalom bad writteu that one-of bis nine nieces would come very bandy for a house keeper at Swampy CoKa«rs, i». the State of Dakota, if she co.ulcf be sf iared. The lattet»sentcnce was into nfled on his part for a sarcasm, but tho Elkton family had received it in all good faith, and held many a deliberatitaa before they consented to let one of th»: nine young birds flutter out of the hon 10 nest. And more especially she- had come be cause she had incidentally‘.learned that Andrew Markham was one of the en gineers in charge of the new' line of rail way on the other slope of tbe.mountain, which undertaking involvodthe navvy tamp and the-groat derricks and steam- arills, acd the gangs of slit-eyed Chinese ind dark-browed Italians. “Not that that signifies,” Emily had plausibly told herself; “but of course it’s pleasant to be somewhere? within a hun dred miles of an old noqaaitrtancc!” Andrew Markham had been to see her twice, and both times sho had made up her mind that the Far West-was the only place to live in. “He expects to settle hero!” she thought, with a soft pink color suffusing her face. “Ho says he has already bought a sunuy slope of land, where ho means to build a house and bring a wife, wiien he can afford it. He thinks that life here means twice what it does in tho effete civilization of the East. But to-night, with darkness the wrap ping the little depot like a blanket, and the wind howling down the mountain gorge, Miss Elkton would not at all have objected to some of that same “effeto civilization.” Alone In the house! During the whole of her sojourn at Swampy Corners, such a thing had never happened to her be: fore. Uncle Absalom had occasionally been, absent, it was true, but Miriam Mudge was always there to bear her company until his return. Now that a sudden summons from her father, hurt in an accident in the sawmill on Ragged River, six miles below, had called Miriam away, poor Emily was all in a flutter. True the one train a day which stopped at the “daypot” was not due until seven in the morning; the telegraph office was closed, and there was absolutely no care for her to assume except to put another log of wood on the air-tight stove and go quietly to bed. But the very sense of solitude appalled her. She shivered at tho very click of the snow-flakes against tho window, the creak of tho boards in the floor, the slow drip of the water into the kitchen sink, where Uncle Absalom bad recently introduced the modern improvement of a water-faucet connected by pipes with tho spring in the spruce glen above. “W^y couldn’t Miriam have stopped at one of the neighbor’s houses and sent some to keep me company?” she repined. “Andrew says there are some nice girls at Almondsley, down the mountain, and he said ho?d like to introduce'me to Ma rietta Mix, who teaches Sunday-school in the South Clcating and does type writing for tho company on week days. I’m sorry now that I tossed my head and put on airs, and said I didn't care to mingle in the society hereabouts. Oh, dcarl what a hateful, insolent minx I must have appeared 1 Good gracious me! what was that?” It was the clock striking nine, and then Emily remembered that sho had had no supper. Nervously glancing around her, she tiptoed to the cupboard, poured out a glass of milk and a little bread and cheese. As she replaced the ebarse flint-glass tumbler on the shelf, she heard something like a cautious footstep on the hard frozen path outside. “It’s my imagination,” sho thought, after listening for a second. “It must be I But I won’t be frightened so. I’ll be brave!” She took the hatchet boldly in her hand, and sallying forth, opened the cellar door wide, thus exposing a yawn ing pit of darkness. “If anyone comes, they’ll sail down there before they can get to tho door,” said Emily. . And with one or two prodigious slashes of the hatchet sho cut away the board path which led across,.^, of ragged boulders to the railway plat-, form. “There,” she cried, hurrying back to tho inside warmth and brightness, as if a whole brigade of .pursuers-were at her heels, “that’s done! I feel safer now. But I must be sure to hang tho lantern out there before Uncle Absalom comes back. I don’t want him do fall down and brhak’his dear old neck.” She had just seated herself, with a sigh of relief, when something like a magnified firc-tty blazed on her vision— for a second only; then it was gone. “A dark lantern!’’ she said to herself. “Yes, and I am sure now that I hear tho sound pf feet creaking on the platform. There ave two or three people there— possibly more. They have somehow learned that I am atone here with all that money 1” She clasped both hands over her eyes; a chill quiver went through her veins. Suddenly there was a crash—a mut tered exclamation—a suddenly- sup pressed buzz of voices. “Somebody has fallen down cellar I” she thought. “Oh, how fortunate it was that I thought of that!” And then a low, deep whisper came up through tho carelessly-joined boards of tho floor. She could distin guish tho very words: “Hold on there—be careful! The front door is fastened, for I tried it. You can all of you get down cellar and come up that way.” Emily's heart gave a great, exultant jump. The cellar-door,a mass of timber in which sho had the fullest confidence, was securely bolted. Cautiously she peered out into the stormy darkness. ‘ "V ' By the occasionally displayed gleam of the dark lantcrn she could see a hud- lled mass of figures, creeping stealthily down the collar steps. Last of all disappeared the lantern it self, one leisurely step at a time. And them, consummating a plan which she had long been concocting in her mind, Emily made a dash out into the night, closed the fluplike divisions of tho ccllar- : door with a bang, barred them tight chut, and fled back into the house, pant ing for breath. By this time there was a brisk knock ing at the cellar door—a crying out of: “Open tho door! Let us in!” But to these calls Emily Elkton paid no heed, and it was only when a hand was suddenly laid on her shoulder from | behind, that she uttered a piercing j scream, and lost all her presence of mind. “Why, Emmy!” cried a familiar voice. Why, child, what's the matter?” “Oh, Uncle Absalom, how you fright ened me! Oh, dear, the cellar is full of ] burglars and robbers! Reach down your shotgun! Get tho hot water kettle 1” “Burglars, ch?” said Uncle Absalom. “Robbers! YVhy, whar on yearth did they come from? Sure ye ain’t mistook,. Sissy? Anyhow, I’ll be ready for ’em.” I Ho advanced toward the cellar door with his loaded revolver in his hand. “Whoever ye be," shouted he, “tell us what your business is, or take this! Don’t hold my arm, Sissy! There can’t no more’n one at a time come up these ’ere suffer sta’rs, an’ I reckon I’m a match for that much, if I be old an’ stiff!" To Emily’s infinite alarm, he unbolted the cellar door and flung it wide open. There, crowding on the narrow wooden steps, stood Andrew Markham, tho Miss Almondsleys, Leonidas Mix and his sister Marietta, and Doctor Cliffe’s two chubby daughters. “We came,” said Markham, rather shamefacedly, “to give Miss Elkton a birthday surprise. We’re very sorry that—” “Walk in. walk In!” cried Uncle Absalom, his face one full moon of broad smiles. “No need o’ bein’ sorry for nothin’. Y’ou’ro all welcome I How on earth did ye know it was Emmy’s twentieth birthday?” “Marietta has baked a cake,” said Leonidas, “and the Uliffe girls brought a jug of lemonade, only it was broken when I tumbled down cellar, and—” “Oh, that don’t matter none [’’beamed Uncle Absalom. “We’re awful pleased to see you, ain’t wc, Emily?” And in this inauspicious manner began Emily Elkton’s first acquaintance with the young people who were destined to lie her lifelong neighbors. “But really,” said she, half crying, half laughing, “I thought you were all banditti 1" “It’s my fault,” acknowledged honest Marietta Mix. “I was determined that you should have a surprise. Andrew wasn’t half willing, but I insisted. You see, I didn't think there would ever be, any other way of getting acquainted with you, Miss Elkton. And we knew that Andrew was so interested in you.” “Nonsense!” cried Emily, blushing. “Is it nonsense, though?” retorted Marietta. “YVell, time will‘show.” And time did show. Six months after- ward—but, after all, where is the use of turning over the leaves of the book of fate? Let all true lovers guess for them selves how the mutter ended. “But,” Emily acknowledged, in her turn, “I never was so frightened in all my life as at first, and never so happy as I was at lasti ” And she :iever rcturned.to the “effete civilization; of^_the East.-”—Saturday According to an amendment of the school laws of the State of Michigan, children suffering from consumption or chronic catarrh must be excluded from public schools. The circumstance is in- tcreeling, declares the. Scientific Ameri can, ns a first step toward the public recognition of a most important truth, the fact, namely, that the disorders of the respiratory-organs can be propagated by direct contagion, anti that the atmos. pherc of a consumptive’s sick room, un less Constantly ventilated, is apt to be come a viruient lung poison. Kaiser William, of Germany, eats s hearty English breakfart of meat and eggs at 7.80. At noon he takei hii second breakfast of soup, meat, vege tables and dessert. The dinner hour h at 6, and this is followed at 9.30 uy : lightiUBper. FARM AND HOUSEHOLD. OILING THE WHEELS. The best way to keep wagon wheels In good order, according to a West Vir- pnia correspondent, is to keep them well painted, but by use this will finally wear off, especially from the felloes and ipokes that are always getting so much In the mud. Such farmers as think a common wagon don’t need but one paint ing may use crude petroleum to advan- lage on their cracking wheels. By oil ing the felloes thoroughly before tires get loose enough to slip a resetting can be put off a long time and an applica tion of the same kind to the spokes aud hubs will keep the wheels in much bet ter condition thai when they are left to go without anything, as is often the case. The oil fills the pores of tho wood and, keeps it from shrinking, but no coloring matter should be mixed with it, for it will not dry as a good oil paint should. For my own part I get my wagons' painted as soon as they need it, for it makes thpm look better and is the best, for them in tho end.—New Terk World. BONES AND BONE MEAL. For laying hens bones that have been coarsely ground are excellent, as they are digested and used ns food. They; provide the necessary phosphates and also lime for the shells to a certain ex tent ; they also contain a proportion of nitrogen. Bones, when sharp, also serve as grit, tor masticating the food in the gizzard, thus rendering a service as well as providing the materials for the production of eggs. For very small chicks, bone meal is better, and the finer the bone meal the easier it is di gested by the chicks. Some persons buy the ground bone, sift it, use tho coarse part for hens and tho finer part for chicks. Fresh bones are much bet ter than bones that are dry, as they con tain a certain amount of meat and gela - tine. Bones are very cheap, considering their value, os the hens will not cat a very large quantity at one time, but if fresh bones are broken or pounded to sizes that can easily be swallowed, the hens will consider them quite a treat and consume a large quantity. They can be broken much more readily when heated in an oven.—Farm and Firetide. RIGHT TEMPERATURE FOR CHURNING. I have recently had occasion, writes H. Cooley Greene, to help out several friends who say, “I have chu rned five hours” (one said “all day and evening”) “and there is no sign of butter; nothing but foam; though after standing awhile there is buttermilk at the bottom. Can you tell me what to do to bring the but ter?” As I could not learn that they had faffed in previous care of the creaip, I have answered, “Warm it to seventy or seventy-five degrees and churn till you get butter; then cool (by pouring m cold water) say to sixty-five degrees and fin ish churning; draw the buttermilk and wash as usual.” I have been churning at seventy-five degrees now for more than a month, and get fine, solid buttei in twenty minutes. The one point to guard against is churning too much be fore cooling—you must stop as soon as granules form. YVhcn cows have given milk for a long period, especially if fed dry fodder, the gutter-oils become hard er than in the earlier stages of milking, and will not cohere at as low a tempera ture. The proper churning temperature has been set between tho limits of fifty- eight and sixty-two degrees;; and this idea of an absolute rule has led to a great deal of trouble. I have churned Holstein cream in May and June that would not bear a temperature above fifty-four de grees, and Jersey cream at the same time that required sixty-two degrees. Twenty degrees at least arc required as a margin of temperature to meet the varied condi tions of cream resulting from differences in breed, feed and other influences af fecting the butter-fats. Nothing but class observation and experience will en able the butttermaker to determine where between these limits is the proper tern- peiature.—New York Tribune. FARM AND GARDEN NOTES. The best sign of a good cow is a large udder well filled twice a day. Once well started it is comparatively easy to keep ycung chicks growing. It is never good economy to feed the hens more than they will eat up clean. A dust bath is very- essential to the health of the fowls during the winter. There is as much in knowing how to feed poultry to the best advantage as any stock on tho farm. If any of tho fowls commence droop ing around, look after them at once; there is something wrong. There is certainly no economy in com pelling poultry to stand around in the cold mud all day; better keep them ' under shelter. Take excellent care of that flock of sheep now. If you have been feeding dry food nil the time, the trouble will soon commence. If the fowls are healthy to begin with and are well fed and cared for, no arti ficial preparations are necessary to- main tain good health. As a general rule, hens should never be fed so much that they will not scratch. Better scatter some of the grain among tho litter and let them scratch for it. and not the feed so mucb as the care, Tmt the better tho breed, the better the feed and the better the care, the better will bo the results. Don’t forget that plenty of small branches on the ground near young trees will bo eaten by rabbits in preference to the tree trunks. Smearing the trunks with blood or blood and manure has the same result. Gravel, sand or some other similar substance is almost as essential to the fowl’s well-being as is food, and .if fowls are kept in confinement aud not supplied with this, no matter how much grain you may supply, they will not thrive or even keep healthy for any length of time. HOUSEHOLD HINTS. By rubbing with a damp piece of flannel dipped in whiting, the brown discolorations may be removed from cups »nd porcelain pudding dishes in which custards, tapioca, rice, etc., have been baked. For cleansing cream, take four ounces nf castilc soap, four ounces aqua ammon ia, one ounce sulphuric ether, one ounce ilcohol. Cut the soap fine, dissolve in line quart of water, add the ingredients; lastly, five quarts of soft water. If you wish to remove spots rub a little on with a sponge, but to clean a largo surface add a little warm water and sponge off with it. This can be used on any fabric. If a piece of dyed cloth is dampened and rubbed on clean white paper the absence of any stain shows that the dye is a “fast” color. Another test is to lay the cloth between two sheets of paper and iron it. There should be mo marks In this case either. Again, if the cloth is covered with a perforated sheet o! thick paper and exposed for some hours to direct sunlight, tho color of the ex posed parts should not fade. At any time of the year keep your kid gloves in glass bottles, closely corked. YVidc-mouth olive bottles are the best, or any wide-topped fruit or preserve jar. This will keep the dampness out of them. Put tissue paper or paraffine paper around each pair of gloves in tho glass. This will prevent spottiness, which unexpect edly comes upon glace kid gloves at the seashore. Cork the bottles well or screw down. FUN. ~ In billiards a scratch frequently fol lows a kiss.—Pittiburg Ditpatch. “I never get left,” as the office re marked when it started out to seek for a man. Ignorance is bliss when a woman is homely and doesn’t know it. — Troy Frets. Bullets can whistle; but it takes a brave man to listen to them.—Drake's Magazine. Fish are water drinkers as a rule, but the shark never objects to taking a nip. —Texas Siftings. Some men must think that the lamp of life is a spirit-lamp, judging from (he way they pour in the alcohol. Hope can make the point of a needle look as big as a dinner plate; but when we run against it we experience the sharp ness of disappointment.—Park. The chance of u man being struck by a tornado is one in 29,000,000. And the chance of his recovery when struck is about the same.—St. Joseph News. People who would grind everything down to a dead level in this world should remember that it is the cogs on the wheels that make clock-work ruu smoothly.—Pick. “Did tho plumber come down to in spect the pipes this morning?” “Yes.” “What did he say?" “Ho said there was nothing tho matter, but he could very soon remedy that.”—New York Sun. Young Mooncalf--“Do you know, Miss YVosy, that--aw—that I’ve been weflecting a gweat deal recently, and I’ve hawlf a mind—I’ve—aw—hawlf —Miss Rosy—“Never mind re peating it, Mr. Mooncalf; it’s far above the popular estimate, but I’ll concede you that much.”—/fcsfon Courier. “Sh—h—h, child! Young people should be silent when older people are talking,” said a fond mother to her hope ful who was talking too much, to thcau- noyance of several elderly persons. “Then when shall young people bilk, mamma? Old people arc never silent,” was the reply of the cherub.—Texas Sift ings. Pennsylvania is taking an important step in the direction of better roads; a step that, in the opinion of the New York Tribune, every State should take. Railroad traveling has become so general and so perfect that tho common high ways of the land are largely overlooked. Yet on them is the vast bulk of traveling and transporting done, after all, and upon their condition depend to an in calculable extent the comfort and con venience and prosperity of the vast bulk of the people. The improvement of county roads is a topic that should stand well toward the head of the list in every legislative assembly, until we have brought ourselves at least to an equality with tho Romans of two thousand years ago. The New Orleans Picayune observes: “Though much is said about the de cadence of New England during the last ten years tho population bas increased more (ban during any other decade in i Ibis not the breed so muchos the feed.^ all its history. NO. 28. LADIES' COLUMN. A WONDBOUS - PETTICOAT. A petticoat of scarlet snoire lined*with flannel is the somewhat startling one ad vised by an English journal to a corre spondent as quite the newest in such gar ments. In New York shops those .of shot silk of neutral tint and flounced arc still extensively sold and must beipronounced by most women as in better taste. The return to velvet ribbon neck bands bas evidently heralded the appearance, now also reported, of velvet collarettes. These are of piece velvet, made to match the bonnet, and are sometimes studded with jewels or fringed with pearls.—Chicago News. TENNIS FABRICS. The new tennis flannels are shown in woo! with a mixture of silk, or of cot ton, and in pure wool. There is also a durable goods in silk schape and cotton which is sold among tho tennis flannels. The silk and wool mixtures are all that could be desired in cool texture and light weight for athletic dresses. They are made in a variety of even stripes, of blue, red, rose or gray with white. It is also easy to find wide stripes and narrow ones to match them in color and stylo for combination dresses. These flannels are thirty inches wide and seventy-five cents a yard. YVool tennis flannels and mixtures of cotton and wool range from twenty-five to forty cents a yaid.—Bos ton Transcript. WHAT TO DO WITH OLD DRESSES. Mrs. Lynn Linton makes a suggestion in a letter to the ({ween which seems to me to be a thoroughly practical ouo. It appears that ladies' maids get the old clothes of their mistresses, in addition to high wages. These clothes are sold to persons who resell them to those in humble positions who like to have well cut dresses or cloaks “on tho cheap.” Mrs. Linton asks why maida should have these perquisites, and proposes that ladies should send all their cast off clothes to some depot, those garments which are suitable for poor women to be given away, and those that are not to be sold and the money applied to aid tho poor. Mrs. Linton calls this the YVest End helping the East End; and if the scheme could be carried out it would no doubt relieve much distress.—London Truth. EMMA ABBOTT SAVED TWO LIVES. Emma Abbott was of a singularly im petuous temperament. About ten years ago Jennie Smith and Covert D. Bennett were condemned in New Jersey to bo banged for the murder of the woman’s husband, a Jersey City policeman. The accused persons had had two trials and the gallows awaited them. Their coun sel, however, said that if he could get $1000 he could secure another trial and acquit them. Emma Abbott read this announcement in a newspaper, aud in stantly calling a cab, she visited Judge Hilton, August Belmont, Sr., Henry Drexel and other millionaires, soliciting aid for Mrs. Smith and Bennett. She started on the tour about 9 o’clock A. M., and at 2:30 p. M. had the money collected. She sent it to the Rev. Dr. Rice, of Jersey City, who devoted it to the purpose intended. A new trial was granted the condemned people aud they were acquitted.—New Orleans Picayune. HIGH-TOPPED SLEEVES. A prominent photographer says: “II is almost impossible to take a good pic ture of a lady who wears a dress with sleovespuffed and elevated at the shoul ders. Some of these shoulder humps arc so hich that thev cause a shadow to be cast over the wearer's neck and the lower part of the face. I have had several instances of spoiled pictures on this ac count. At first the failure of the photo graph to bring out the sitter's chin ami neck in strong relief puzzled mo. I studied the matter for several days, and tried experiments with my patrons until I became satisfied that the trouble was caused by tho high-topped sleeves. 1 demonstrated that such was tho fact to one lady by drawing a scarf closely about her shoulders. YVithout the scarf all at tempts to get a good picture of her failed. YVith the scarf I succeeded the first time in getting a picture that revealed clear ly the outlines of her face and neck. ” FASHION NOTES. Gauze, silver and gold efiects in fancy ribbons are taking remarkably well. The appearance of China silks indi cates a preference for black gFounds. The so-called cream breakfast coat is o white flannel jacket made with a loose front, lined with pale blue silk, and trimmed with gold braid. Velvet ribbons will undoubtedly trim figured silks again and grenadines as well. ® Glace kid gloves have taken tho place of Suede gloves. Glazed black kid is more popular for street wear thau tan, Notwithstanding the array of novel wool fabrics, curled, knotted, splintered, long-fleeced, striped and plaided, im porters maintain that their largest spring sales will be found among tho liner wooltns—tho henriettas, vigognes, India and French cashmeres, claircltcs, and light, smooth-faced cloths. The great rage of the season is for vcl vet ribbons, narrow ones, tied under tho chin or hanging down the back in float ing streamers. Black ribbons and white ones, and all tho new malarial colors that would look like mistakes if they weren’t so stylish. Collarettes of piece velvet, shaped to fit the neck and match tho bonnet, are worn, and are sometimes fringed with pearls or bordered with diamonds. Electricity Exorcises Thieves. The fact that the electric light has in flicted a severe blow at the occupation of tho “midnight marauder” is now a familiar one, and a recent expression of opinion on the subject of protecting houses against the depredations of house- breakers has called special attention to the means which arc now available for that purpose. The task of the cracks man is becoming a weary and compara tively profitless one, and it is easy to be lieve that the lament which is occasion ally wafted from his lips into the columns of the daily paper, that “there is now nothing in it,” is uttered with the utmost sincerity. At one time it was a very easy mattci for a burglar to saw through a bar or cut a pane of glass, but with the electrical appliances now being used in many houses, and which are so easily adjusted and so reliable in opera tion, it is only a question of time when all houses will be provided with them. Tho slightest movement of door or window after the alarm has been set will form a connection and start a gong in a distant part of tho house. The alarm is thus given to the inmates, while the man, un conscious of the fact, is busily occupied in looking after the family silver. The same connection that alarms the sleeper may convey the alarm to tltfe nearest police station, so that by the time the burglar gets through with his engrossing work he may find a couple of polieemeu outside patiently waiting his pleasure. Not long ago an enthusiastic merchant in Paris was so delighted with the working of this form of burglar alarm that he be came enamored of thicf-catching as a snort. He cleverly spread stories of the hoards of jewelry and valuable bric-a- brac that were to be found in certain rooms of his house, and the bait was an irresistablc one for the master cracksmen of the city. The merchant bagged his game very neatly several times, but at last the story crept out, and his unique sporting career came to a sudden end. Screen doors as well as windows can be provided with the alarm fittings so that the least attempt to make a hole will close the circuit and let tho inmates of the house know of the advent of their uninvited visitor.—Chicago News. Once King of the Dudes. The evolution of Berry YVall is attract ing some attention among people who are familiar with tho surface life of New York. Mr. YVall first attracted attention through the vagaries of what is common ly known as “a sporting existence,” and then built up a national celebrity on tho basis of his clothes. He spent two for tunes, but, after the second one had gone, his friends grow cold and ho had tho unpleasant experience common to a heavy financial reverse. After his mar riage he became an agent for a cham pagne house, i.ut from this he made his way into the life insurance business, and he has made a distinct success of it. He is living at home, has become a domestic man, and is methodical in his business habits. Both he and Mis ViVli go out socially, aud Lis metamorphosis from the king of the dudes to a successful bus iness man is apparently complete. His clothes have a certain distinction, but they are no longer notably in advance ol the fashion New York Sun. Weight of Ice on Tree Branchei. A gentleman of Brookline has sent to the Listener an account of a very inter esting experiment in taking the weight of tho ice upon tree branches during an ice-storm, when the icc on the trees was at its maximum. This gentleman thus describes the result of his experiment: “A branch of the syriuga which weighed oue pound had five pounds of ico on it, and a branch of pine needles weighing one pound had twelve pounds of ido ou it. I got these weights by taking the wood with the icc on it at first, and then taking weight of wood after the ice had melted. This does not represent cor rectly the enormous strain or actual pressure exerted on the branches of trees by these ice-storms, but will easily ac count for the sad breakage of trees so common the past few days, aud the dan gers from these ice-storms on both trees which it has to a large degree replaced. It is a question whether tho three- quarter jackets will prove a success or not. They cut the figure in half, and are by no means as smart looking as the short coat. Black velvet slippers, with paste in step studs, are worn by many of our best dressed women, with white silk hose, for full evening dress, though as a rule hose and slippers should match the gown in ami wires.” It was surely a most for tunate thing that, during tho days when the ico remained on tho trees, we had no high winds. There must have been in I bat case, much more damage thau was inflicted.—Boston Transcript. Some English periodicals criticiso Stanley for a “sacrifice of dignity” in lecturing in America. The “sacrifice” has its compensations.