The Union times. [volume] (Union, S.C.) 1894-1918, July 17, 1896, Image 2
THE UNION TIMES.
UNION, S. C.
Corli is ono of tlio most important
exports of Spain. In the province of
Gcroua 108,000 acres r.uo devoted to
its cultivation, nail bring an annual
incoino of ?S,000,COO. Cork will grow
here as perfectly as in Spain, is ti.o
significant comment of the Now Orleans
Ticaynnc.
Tho New York Commercial A-Ivorliser
says: Toe's cottage, at Fordliam,
is now the niccea of tho literary
rilgritns of the earth. There, whero
tho greatest genius America hn3 produced
starved, and wrote iininortnl
fiongs, they lay the laurels now?
laurel* that were denied liim while he
lived 1 The only wonder is that even
,this frail dwelling has been preserved
ns a memorial of the great poet, who
"learned in suffering what he taught
in song," and shaped the true course
of the literature of r. laud.
-** Tn the commendable work of Americanizing
tho Norwegian Lutheran
Chnrch in this country, observes tho
'New York Post, tho English society of
that church is taking n prominent
part. Couspicious in tho socioty and
,'its work nro Professor E. G. Lund,
Theodoro Eggen, and Henry RasmusHen.
They wish to substitute tho English
for the Norwegian languago in
tho ritual and tho other services of
I
the church. They aro working hopefully.
JWhcn they organized thoir
aociety three years ago a small room
furnished all tho accommodation
needed for their meeting. The socioty
has grown fast in numbers aud influence.
A writer in ScribQer's says that tho
'timber wealth of tho Uuitod States
gives a'ycarly product|of over a billion
dollars, or twico tho valuo of the entire
output of all tho mines put together?gold,
silver, coal, iron, copjper,
zinc, and the rest. This is a re
Botirco wortu keeping, and yet we
ara cutting into our capital at the
fearful [rate of scvouty-fivo per cent,
each year, as only 'about twenty-live
per cent, of the timber market is represented
by new growth. As for losses
from the lires that are started by lo-1
Icomotives, cattlemen, berry pickers,
hunters and incendiaries,it gives a 6iifficent
idea of what they cost us to be
|told by the Forestry Commissioner of
'Pennsylvania that his State alone problably
suffers to tho extent of 830,000,000
annually from this one cause. Not
1 cnly tho trees are lost in thoso mighty
conflagrations ?tho vegetablo mould
whioh would supply fertility to tho
aoil for futnro agricultural purposes,
or food for tho roots of a second
growth of forest, is burnt ; and tho
first step is taken on that easy descent
to a landslide or flood-bed.
One of the London newspapers, in
commenting upon tho death of tho
late Shah of Persia states that eighteen
rulers have been assassinated during
the present century. The first victim
was Emperor Paul who was murdered
in 1S01 by palace couspirators. Theu
followed a pause in tho record for
nearly thirty year-, after which, in
1S31, Capouistins, the President of tho
Provisional Government of
was dispatched. In 1 >~> i the Duke of
Palnia was assassinated. The turn of
transatlantic Presidents bejrau with
the President of llajti, in The
South American series included Colonel
Bulla, President of Peru, in 1h7- ;
Moreno, President of Ecuador, in the
enrno year, and his successor, Cuttierez,
in 1S7:?. President Lincoln
was the (ir3t North American President
to l>o assassinated; Abdul Asis
was bled to death in a warm bath in
1874 ; President Garfield was shot in
1880, and Alexander I was blown up
in 1881. Caruoi was murdered in the
midst of civic festivities at Lyons.
Tlio Queen of Korea was the last to bo
added to the black list. Four Hoys of
A1 gierswero murdered in this'ceutury.
The executed monarchs were Murat,
Itnrhide and Maximilian of Austria,
each and all of whom tempted fate.
The Kins most often an 1 most seriously
shot at was Louis Philippe, who
eomehow was never hurt by his wouldbe
assassins. The most desperate attempt
was by Ficschi, the Corsiean,
who operated with an iuferual machine,
lie was once fired upon at such c'.ohc
quartern that the llash of the pistol set
fire to tbo bonnet of Queen Mario
Ameiic, who sat beside him in a carriage.
I3ut one fed-ions attempt was
made to assasdnato Napoleon ; it was
with an infernal machine. Napoleon
III had two narrow escapes. One was
when the Orsini bombs exploded round
his carriage, and the other was in tlio
2'ois do Uoulogue, when a brdl meant
for liis guca.t, Alexander f, wuizi'.ed by
his car and shot bio su.l-dc cr.mp'o
horse.
Sl.tSILi MASC
lv norn
; tllc s"n'jy pusturos I
j vHy , Py uu-.l the fields covered J
I . |j with tlio golden stub
c'*^ M? ?* recontly harvestj
Cl* t'ri"u camo the song
^ birds, gradually
? &JT growing fainter as tlio
ruvs of the sun began
' to beat down. The air had not io.-t
the dewy freshness of early moruiug.
But early as it was the day's work
at Bruco Barm was well under way.
Pho farmer aud his men were in tho
tiolds, in the kitchen liuldah, the stout
Uorinnn girl, was busy over the dishes,
whilo tho mistress of tho house, calm,
Baxon-faced Margarot Bruce, was
churning out ou the back porch.
T4 ? 1.1; ?v.,f.. 1 , t
j Ab nus U UUU^UblUl r>|iU b 1UI t% 111 ' J I II *
' ing hour. A screen of inorniog glory
and trumpet vinos allowed only au occasional
dancing ray of sunlight to
enter. Margarot made no discord in
the harmony of the quiet scene. Tall,
erect, head well poised, lirm scarlet
I lips and smooth brown hair. Even
| her neatly fitting dres3 of indigo bine
print, her gingham apron and her
bare, shapely arms were pleasingto an
irtistic eye.
Whilo she was briskly raising and
owering tho dasher ol the old-fashoncd
stono churn, a song on her lips,
? step was heard on the walk.
"Cousin Elsie," Margaret exclaimed
brightly, "you are au eariy caller.
Don't tell mo you have uo genius for
housework when you can get out to
tnuke calls as early in iho morning us
this*"
Elsie Mason shrugged her shoulders
j in silence. Hho was a gypsy-fuccd,
j girlish-looking creature, teu years
| younger than her cousin. Elsie had
I been for two years tho wife of John
Mason, whoso farm adjoined that of
Margaret's husband.
"How do you suppose I uid it?"
Elsie demanded, sitting dowu on tho
lop step and fanning hereelf with her
hat.
"Did what?" Margaret queried.
"Managed to get over hero so early
in tho morning."
"I'm suro I don't know."
"Well, I'll tell you"--there was an
almost wicked gleam iu the soft black
eyes upturned to tho piaoid face above
the speaker. "Wo had breakfast lute,
lohu was in a harry to drive to Layton,
and somehow when he is in a
hurry meals have a fashion of being
late. It didn't take us long to eat.
Vou see, there wasn't a thing nieo.
The coffee was muddy and the muffins
I made?there wasn't any bread?were
horrid. Breakfast over I put on my
; ant, and hero I am see. Sec?"
| Mrs. Bruce looked grave. "Anil
your table?" she questioned..
"It will bo all ready for dinucr,"
Elsie said llippantly. "I did intend
j :o put the butter and cream in the ro'rigerator,
but 1 forgot it. The bed
' ;s unmade, the sweeping not done, no
I '>reiul set, uud nothing planned for
iinner."
. There wn3 a moment's silence. A
uonient iu which Margaret's churning
irocecdod very slowly, while she
ttudied the face and form of In r cousin.
Elsie's abuudant blue!; hair was
i.wistcdin a rough huot. Ker bangs
lad apparently been uncurled for oev?ral
days. As for her pink cambric
vrapner with its tern garniture of lncc,
'.here was only one word to describe
t, and that word was?dirty.
I "Wei!, why don't you scold?" Elsio
' isked 111 the tone of a delimit chil l.
I "I am nlraid it will d?. ji good,"
Mrs. Bruce said goutly.
"Oh, 1 am so tired of everything,"
Edsio cried. "11" there could only be j
i change in my lifo?1 woti'd not care
vlint it wa?. But I'd rather die thun |
{o on in this poky fashion."
No reply. Margaret raised the cover I
' >f her churn to look at the smooth |
i husk oi creain. Tlint was all. After !
! > moment Elsio went on pettishly.
"It's all very well for you. Von
lave a girl."
I "Anil I Lave three children, three
| lirel men and the milk of our cows.
1 ton sell your milk, the tenant farmer
! loards John's help, ami you do the
vork for two in the family."
A little emphasis on the wonl "Jo"
leepened the pink on Elsie's cheek.
! "I am fitted for better things," she
v?gan loftily. "Fate never intended
, r.e for a farmer's wife."
"I aprrco with you. Why did you
narry John?"
"Hocauso 1 loveil him, of course,
ohn is well enough. It is the uncongenial
surroundings and prosy life
ihat makes me miserable."
I "With all John's patience tie is only
pi man. You may some ?loy w.iko up
0 the fact that you have ruined both
ronr lives. The poetry and congenial
uiriotindiner. you rave of may bo all
ight in their plac \ But you are lo .1
g the chance to live the sweetest of
ill poems, the lulpflll life of a loved
vile, and wasting your?"
"You are cruel, Margaret," Elsie
nt< rrupted hotly. "I wish 1 could
1 lie. Then, p rlmps, you ail would be
iorry for your mikin ini-.v, to me."
' ?>h, wo wool t !"(<? ':i it tii'-n and
tl'v your pr.ii.-e<. Y-?u remember?
j dor woman n?v<>r drew br a-.u
1 J. ...u u., :. wi.e, LI.e. lb.'
*
wQHk
HslSiV "j
)x's Lesson,paiiing.
j
With your poetic knowlcpjo I don't
need to remind you of tho fact that it
was ufter tho llood that Elizabeth's
*uvvuv? iu-iun OUIU r*%J, UU XL vuu wttu
to dio I do not doubt that by tho time
Jobu married again ho would forgive
even tho muddy coffeo and?"
"That is enough. I camo to you
for comfort, not insults," and Elsie,
wiping her oyes, hurried down tho
path in the direction of her own home.
Margaret smiled a little as she carefully
moved the dAshor to gather the
golden butter, but tho smile was followed
by a quick sigh.
As for Elsie, I wish I could nOirn
that sho was so impressed by her
cousin's words that sho went home and
began to mend her ways. But truth
compels mo to admit that she went
straight to her own room, threw herself
upon the nnmade bed and indulged
in a good c*y. Regarding John
Mason's dinner that day it was much
like his breakfast, except that strong
ten took the place of the coffee, and a
loaf of baker's bread brought from
Layton wns a decided improvement
on the muffins of tho morning.
After the meal was finished Elsie
listlessly gathered up and washed part
of tho dishes. She had really intendod
to wash them all, but au interesting
subject for a poem camo in her mind.
So the dishes were left, and, with dirty
dress and unbrnshed hair, the young
wife sat down to devote the afternoon
to verse-making.
A week later John Mason camo barriodly
into tho room where his wife
sat reading.
"Elsie, I must go to Hatfiold at
ouce. i cannot return betoro tomorrow
night. Will you get me eorae
dinner while I dress? I must catch
tho 1.20 train at Lay ton."
"What have you got to go to Hatfield
for?"'
"Busiuess. I'll tell you all about it
when I got back," and hurried upstairs.
Elsie really evinced very little interest.
She Listened to the message
ho loft. for tho help, and also to his
suggestion that she go to Margaret's
for the night, whilo trying to decide
if "Solitude" or "Soul Hunger"
should bo the name of her now poem.
"John didn't kiss mo" she thought
after his departure. "He remembers
that I told him last week that such
thiugs wore silly. I don't believe ho
has kissed mo since."
A few minutes later she went to tho
secretary to copy tho poem that was
to make her immortal. As she let
down the writing table a letter dropped
out. She stooped to pick it up when
it fell from tho envelope. Tho first
word arrestod her attention?
Daklino?Moot m<* at Hntflefu \?.-night.
Must see you, cannot liva utiles!* do.
Yours with undying love.
Genevieve.
Mechanically the wife returned tho
letter to the ouvelopo and replaced it
iu the secretary. Then alio tottered to
a chair am?. - "Sid to think.
John, he- >sba.id, false! It could
not be! And yet there was his sudden
departure, his refusal to tell his uusiucs"
and, above all else, the letter.
"r.fow could ho?" she cried. "Ho
kne I loved and trusted him, and
that i would have died for him. Oh,
John, how could ycu ruiu our once
happy home and break my heart!"
Suddenly she remembered Margaret's
words. Surely she had not been
to 'olame. Ai, first she had been so
happy, nu.l then had come tho longing
for congenial surroundings. John had
nevor said much when alio bemoaned
her fate, but of late there had often
been a cloud upon his brow. Then
tlieir home. She shuddered a little as
she glunced around tho tastily fur- j
nidhrul ?>nt .licni-.lst.lo V.. *i._ I
w?.v |/(UiUl . X LI lliU
adjoining room stood tbo table from
which her husband had risen. A soiled
cloth, tao dirty breakfast dishes, n bit
of cold meat, crackers, cheese and
pickles. Surely not a pleasant picture
for a man starting away on a jonrney ,
to carry with him.
"But, Joliu, I lore you!" sho cried, ,
throwing herself upon the couch. "1
?oh, I wish I had done differently."
Tune passed and still she lay there,
dry-eyed and despairing. The rosy
light of the setting sun stole in at the
west window and rested carelossly on |
her tossed hair, hut she did not move, j
At last a knock at ttio door aroused
her.
Sho went wearily to open it. On
the threshold stoo I Mark Seymour, a
farm hand who had formerly been em- i
pioveu i>y >ioun. j 1
"Good evening, Mrs. Mason. I
called for that packet of papers I put
in John's care when I wont hunting. I
saw him as he took the traiu at Layton 1
and he said you would get them for 1
me. He sai 1 they wero in one of the 1
upper pigeon holes of tho secretary." 1
It was only I?y a stroug effort of will 1
that I'.lsio was uh!e to coniprehcuil 1
what ho said. ' 1
"Uo you sioU?" ho asked, noticing 1
hi r ghastly face. ; 1
She murmured something about a j <
bad hcadncho and r. Ivaticc I to the j 1
desk. As she took down tiir. paper <
jlio started, it was from this enoio , i
4
compartment that letter had dropped.
Hero it wr.s?anil tbo cnvelopo boro
namo of >I?rk Seymour, and tbo post'
mark was April 14.
Elsie never could tell just bow sha
managed to get rid. of the talkativo
Seymour. When Sue found herself
r.lono she panic upon her knees uud
tried to realize it ali.
It \vh3 dark when sbo rose. Siio
lighted a lamp and the iight showed a
lace glorified by a great joy. Tbo
first thing sbo did was to gather up all
of her per me. She used them to stare
a lire i:i the range, heated water, and
began a vigorous attack upon tbo
dirty disbco.
She spent the night alone. Tbo
tenant house was near and she was too
happy to be afraid. She worked uutil
a late hour, and was up early the ncut
morning.
Jo Lin Alasnn did not reach home until
Into that aftcruooii. A dejected
look wus upon his face as ho strode up
the walk.
"I'm glaJ I didn't tell her," I16
thought. ".She would have been so
disappointed. I must get rid of the
farm some war. Elaio will never bo
happy here, ilow different our lifo is
from what i thought it would bo!"
lie opened the door and Elsie was
in his ur*n?.
"Tell me you love me, John," she
cried, clinging nervously to him.
"Tell mo you will overlook the past
and commence anew."
Ho hold her at arm's length and
carefully studied her intently. Her
hair was arranged in the way ho admired
it. She woro a fresh cream
lawn, nud in her bolt was a bunch of
scarlet carnations.
"What is it, Elsie?" ho asked almost
sterulv. Then, seeing her lip quiver,
ho drew her close to his breast. "I
love you, my wife."
"Come to supper," sho said galyly
alter a little. "See, John, I'vo turned
over a new leaf."
The tea table was faultlessly spread.
Thero was fresh bread and cake, his
fnvorito salad, broiled chicken, luscious
black raspberries and cream.
"But. Elsie," he said, his face
clouding, "I went to Hatticld hoping
to sell the farm. I was disappointed.
I am 60 6orry?"
*'I nm not," she interrupted him.
"But I am sorry I have been such a
dunee. Don't sell tho farm, dear I'll
show you how 1 can manage a farmhouse.
I've had a lesson, John."?
Tho Home Queen.
The Terror of His Xaui?.
N. J. T. Dana, whom Mr. Cleveland
recently nominated to bo First Deputy
Commissioner of Pensions, has tho
record of having been one of the best
oflicera of the Federal Army. Ho entered
the army as a Captain in tho regular
service, and quickly roso to the
command of a Minnesota regiment,
being afterward appoiutod to u Brigadier-Generalship
by President Lincoln.
He was a strict disciplinarian,
and the men who served under him
wcrespeeially fondof telling anecdotes'
of Dana whicn wore not always flattering
to his vanity. One of the best of
these relates to his trip to Washington
to see Mr. Liucolu about his promotion.
When Mr. Dana preferred
his request to bo appointed a Brigadier-Genoral
the President cut him off
with the statement that he wanted recruits
more than Brigadier-Generals.
This decision did not phase Dana.
"But, Mr. President," ho argued,
"I am sure you (lid not hear my full
name, which is Napo'coa J. T. Dana."
"Nupolean was a great man," said
Lincoln, "and if he were here I would
put him in charge of the Army of tho
Potomac. But, as I said before, wo
need recruits far luoro than wo do
Brigadiers."
'Mir. President," ho said, "I did
not give you ray full 11: "ie. which is
NupoieoD Tuchscn T. Dana."
"I will admit," said the President,
"that Jackson was a great soldier, and,
as I said about Napoleon, it' Jackson
were now living I would l>e glad to appoint
him commander of the Arinv of
the Petomae, but it is not Brigadiers
we ncod nt this juncture so much ns
recruits, to en l this cruel war."
"But I did not tell vou my full
name, Mr. President," persisted
Colonel Dana, according to this interesting
story. "It is Napoleon .Tackson
Tecutnseh Dana."
Lincoln turned to his private secretary.
"Make out Colonel Dana's commisFion
as Brigadier-General," he said ;
"his unmo will striko terror to the
hearts of our enemies, if nothing else."
? Washington Po3t.
Bound to Have the Water.
George Golden, a farmer residing
near this city, wont to the spring after
11 pail of water. Contrary to Mr. Golden's
anticipations he found that access
to tho spring was cut off by two
enormous blacksnukos, lying coiled
i;r? in tlin nut'n nn.l irl.inl. -,.r.......i ?
give the right of way to tho owner of
the spriug.
Mr. Golden Fccurcd a elul? ami with
a determination to assort his rights
proparcu to kill tho nDakes or rnako
thom get out of the way, but the rep*
tiles were not to be frightened by a
man and a club, an 1 when Mr. Golden
neareil them they both showe.1 fight
to such an extent as to convince the
owner of tho spring that it woulil bo
not only useless but dangerous to at*
tack them with a club.
The snakes aro said to havo stood
straight up on their tails, and not
only refused to yield their plaeo of
rofuge but showed light with such determination
that Mr. (loldcu concluded
to return to his hoino and secure a
gun. Finding that his own gun was
not in shooting order, he went to a
at ighbor n< ar by and secured his gun,
md hen returnc 1 to the spring an.I
iispaichcd the snakes. It io said that
they were about eight feet long and
pule large in eireuiutci'CUCC.?C'.ttuoerh'.ad
(M l ) Times.
I _
A CCRIOrS BLENDING.
i i\ coior miser we nave voc to ueeoine
| used to or doom artistic is the blcudi
iug of deep iris purplo and dark blue,
aud uuother equally crude mixture of
.yellow green ribbon ou turquoise blue
gowns. The grecu aud blue combination
is called the peacock melange.
Michigan's woman pkofesxou.
Dr. Elizu M. Mosher, of Erooklvn,
who will enter upon her duties as I'rofessor
of llygieue in the University of
'Michigan in the autumn, has had n
thorough modical training in this
' .country and Europe, aud for some
years has had a successful practice in
Brooklyn. She is the first woman professor
to be called to the University of
'Michigan.
ENOLIsn CniliDRF.N AND TIICIU NURSES.
An American woman in her travels
abroad last season spent a fortnight at
a hotel in Brussels, whero the rooms
open upon n gallery surrounding the
innor court of tho building. There
wero a number of English families
boarding there at tho samo time, and
their children played constantly ou
this gallery. Our countrywoman
noticed several things about their
rplaving which seemed to her distinctive.
Odo was the way in whioh
tho nurses or governesses took part in
their romps, entering spiritedly into
jevery game, managing and directing
illfit. ATimiOfh lrnniA tliinnfa ~
i ~ ? -o ? "-'1 pleadhntly,
while still heartily participating.
An American caretaker of
'children thinks she has done her whole
duty if she seats herself on a park
bench by the side of another caretaker
and gossips continuously, whilo their
little charges pick up such amusement
as they may. A second characteristic
of the English children's play was its
tempered hilarity. They laughed merrily
and called, but they did not scream
aud well?did not, in fact, once raise
Itheir voices to the screeching point,
>nnd though they ran occasionally back
and forth in trout of her windows,
'there was never a glance in nor a noisy
halt before them. "Children in hotels,
?as a rule," says this woman, "have
been my dread and dislike, but these
Children, who carried their breeding
'into their play, never annoyed mo at
all, and showed mo once more that it
is not the thing which is done, but the
way it is doue, that produces the
effect."?Utica (N. Y.) Herald.
edison's debt to nis wife.
Thomas A. Edison hus been marriod
twice. To his two wives ho owes considerable
of his success as the greatest
living inventor aud the greatest inventor
that ever lived. They looked after
bis health and physical welfare, enabling
him to retuin that vigor without
which ho could not stand tho strain of
day after day in his laboratory, without
a wink of sleep.
Twenty-two years ago Edison's
friends urged him to marry, hoping
that domestic,lifo would compel him
to eat at least oue meal a day aud sleep
with some regard to regularity. Eiison
taid he had no time to court, but
if enm A <r r * ? 1 tf-.? "
a uwwuw s,Al ^ auicvi tu imu ry
him ho hail no objections. One day,
while watching a young woman who
was working ono of his instruments
and to whom he never before had
spokcu, ho asked her, somewhat
anxiously, if she would be his wife.
She said yes, and in threo days they
were married, though ho came near
forgetting the hour for the ceremony,
being busy on a complex machine.
Walter P. Philips has been quoted
as telling this story of Edison : One
night a friend of the inventor found
him in his Newark laboratory, and
wont in saying, "Aren't you going
home, Tom; it's late." j
"How late?" said Edison, yawning, i
" About 1 o'clock," returned his
friend.
"Is that so?" exclaimed Edison. |
"By Cleorge, I must go home. I was
married this morning."
idv his lirst marriage Edison ha 1
throe children?Thomas, William aud
Marion. The last two wero liicknamod
by their father. Dot aud Dash, and
Dot has clung to Marion even in her
days of early womanhood. Sho is
well educated, and has spent some
time iu Europe.
The second Mrs. Edison was Miss
Minn Miller, daughter of Lewis Miller,
of Akron, Ohio. J Lewis Miller, besides
boing the founder anl early
financial backer of the Chautauqua
Assembly, is a rich manufacturer and
an inventor of some note. To his
daughter Edison was married in Fob- :
ruary, 1 HSU. They have had two children,
Madeline and Charles. When
Edison spends whole days at a tune in
his laboratory, Mrs. Edison goes to
I him, sleeping on a cot near his work,
beneli. She is a good pianist and is j
well rea I. She is young and tine look- ;
iug, has dark eyes and hair, and is of !
a vivacious disposition.?New York
I'ress.
Tin: n'kw vr.u.s.
Now that tlio fiat has gone forth
that wo are to wear our hats tilted far
forward, so far that they almost rest
on the bridge of the nose, a new mesh
I of veiling has aj?p ared. Of course it
| is dotted veiling, and the dots are 01
i abnormal size and so close together
j that the oculists and opticians may
safely cuunt up.?u a large accession of
> t
-> A"?
? >
'XW/}^w#&i A^/?r
m^^1- <^> I
| income durin * the next year. The
j mesh that shows between the dots is
; very cheer, nud it must bo admitted
these veils are becoming, particularly
I to middle-aged women, who, with tho
! immense wide-brim hat and ono of
! these veils, look nt least ten years
l younger. There are some conservative
women who liud fault with these
I veils, and complain that thev crivo a
fast look that is not, uccotdiug to refined
ideas, quite good form. Still,
tho smart women in society have I
adopted tho fashion, aud for the present,
at all events, wo must wear them.
With bouuots aud small hats a moro
sheer, less heavily dotted veil is allowable,
aud there are even some clear i
meshes without any dot whatever.
These latter ones, wliou becoming, are
far tho best to wear, for they do not
injure tho eyesight and are far less
expensive. Very few colored veils uro
worn. When solid colors?that is, in .
chiffon?are worn, there is u small dot V *
of tho same color woven in tho ma-!
tcrial. Occasionally there are seen'
veils, black with fancy dots, trimmed) *
around tho edges with whito Valen-J .
cicnucs lace. This is a becoming
fashion, but it is not considered so;
smart ns the all-blaok. Veilsaro worn [
shorter than they wore, only just)
reaching to the chin, ani aro tied up,
on tho hat, not at the back of the hair. ;
This is much moro becoming, as it'
prcvonts tho folds that aro so apt tot
occur, and which aro so unbecoming.'
With tho broad-trimmed hats it is^
comparatively easy to arrango the|
veils, but with a small hat or bonuet!
it is always necessary to put in a dou-j
ble plait in front, n little fulness, to:
prevent too much strain across the;
nose and eyclashes. The most beauti-i
fill woman in tho world would look'
like a fright with her nose tied down
and her eyelashes sticking through the
meshes of her veil, says a writer in -'
Harper's Bazar. Elderly women with1
gray Lair have adopted a clever!
schome to keep their front locks in!
order when they do not cure to wear a
veil which hurts the eyes. They tio a ,
pieco of 6oft gray, almost white, tulle!
over tho front hair and fusteu it at the
back under their bonnet. Tho tulle
is so line it scarcely shows at all. If'
caro is taken to fold up a veil every'
time it is worn it will last much
longer. It should be carefully pulled:
out, then smoothed ami folded away!
in a sachet. Just a faint trace of per*,
fume is peculiarly dainty about a veil,;
and can bo best secured by always ^
keeping it in the sachet whenovor it is
not in use.?Chicago Times-Herald.
FASHION NOTES. I
Tnrquoisos are most fashionable.
Garden hats of tulle are wonderfully
pioturesque.
Swamp green alligator skin is tho
newest thing in leather goods.
Pearl, yellow and pink tan shades
are tho correct colors in gloves.
So:no midsummer organdies have
floral figures as largo as one's hand.
Fishnet draperies aro being extensively
employed in seashore dwellings.'
The Henry IV. capes are a revival
of thoso which were worn by nobles at
that particular period.
Tulle an 1 chillon, with a satin edge,
are sold by tho huudrcd yards for neck
ruches and frilling on capes, parasols
I and crown.-:.
Vandyke collars and ecru and whito
batiste, trimmed with laco and insertion,
are made to wear over thin sumj
racr gowns.
! Bishop sleeves are quite the fad in
j cotton bo lices. Auotber dimity lias
j the bo lico finely plaited in the back,
j while in trout, over the side plaits, is
, a broad double box plait, on which is
! sowed cafo-au-lait Valenciennes lace,
'.narrow in wilth, put ou very fail,
giving a wavy, pretty effect.
For useful morning wear dimities in
every shade and patttern are most in
use. Ou3 in green eil'eots is made, as
to bodice, with deep collar of course
net and laco edging of the same. The
sleoves and skirt are uulinod. Tho
sleeves, gigot in cut, have two rows of
the net insertion at tho wrists. ^
(iorgcous buttons and fancy braids
carry out tho scheme of decoration
still further. Ouo of the novolitios in
the latter variety is a black and gold
princess braid mixed with platinum
and gold tinsel, and still more novel
is a net galou with leaves of stamped
leather bordered with colored beads.
A stylish cape is made of broadcloth
and velvet. Two deep rallies aro
tinted and sewed to n yoke that ex
tends well out over the points of tho
shoulders. The wide collar is of velvet,
and is also tinted over tho shoulders
and across the hack. The fronts
are cut in long, scalloped tabs, and extend
below the w.u^t line, tho capo
ending in shield-shape points 011 which
are large, handsome buttons.
A black' and whito dimity has tho
usual plain full skirt, slightly varied
by two rows of heavy white insertion
lot in either si do of the front breadth,
and live tiny llounces edged abont
1 with swiss embroidery. Tho boilico is
j short and full. Either side of tho
trout is a full, straight piceo of whito
muslin, the embroidery inserted in
two rows and edging it. Tho alcoves
are full, pulled to the elbow, plain,
tightly titled below with rows of iu*
rtion overlaid lengthwise,
I *