Norwalk gazette, Friday, October 9, 1896 · page 11

 

x'WEEKLY NORWALK

 

 

 

OVERPRODUCTION.

There's an overproduction of cotton.
An overproduction of ’corn;

Too much of everything' is grown:
Too many people born;

A surplus yield of wheat and bread.
Of potatoes. oats and rye,

Hog and hominy. ham and eggs.
And home-made pumpkin pie.

Too much too eat-.1500 much to wear.
And cattle on too many hills;
Too many agricultural tools,
Too many scrapers, ploughs and drills.
There’s surplus now of clothing
Of every grade and kind;
Too many books and papers,
Too much thought and mind.

Too many men to do the work.
Too many women to weep:
More daylight than the people need.
Too much night for sleep;
0f benedicts a surplus.
An oversupply of wives;
Too many birds and blossoms.
More bees than there are hives.

More sunshine and more shadow
Than is needed for the dell;"

An overproduction of gravestones,

. More coffins than we sell;

An overproduction of ignorance.
A sight too many schools:

Too many poor. too many rich.
And lots too many fools.

THE GYPSY DANCER.

A gypsy band were in the West Rid-
ing of Yorkshire, England, and the
beautiful d-an-seuse' Mini-tti, with her
handsome companion; were perform-
ing to the delighted villagers of the
country. It did not escape the inquisi-
tive eyes of the spectators that her
companion, Fernando, watched with
loving eye each motion of Minitti.

The little town- in the environs of
which the gypsy band were encamped
was one day thrown into commotion
by one of the inhabitants declaring
that an article of considerable .value
had been stolen from his house. One
of the inhabitants even remembered
to have seen a female of the tribe near
the door of. the house whence the
jewel was missing, and was ready to
make oath that it was none other than
311mm, the danseuse of the tribe.

This was quite sufllcient, and upon
such strong circumstantial evidence
the beautiful girl Was seized and rude-
ly carried before the Justice of the
county for examination. In vain was
all the proof offered by the tribe as
to herdnnocenfice; no court would heed
a gypsy’s evidence, ' and the Justice
was forced, though compassion was
in his heart, aye, and it beamed
broadly from his countenance, tool to
commit the girl.

Immediately after the Justice had
pronounced the sentence, and the
weeping girl was about to be borne
away by the officers of the court, a
young man stepped suddenly forward
from the crowd and said, while he
thrust aside the rough hands that
were extended to seize Minitti:

“Stand" back, 11 you would not have. .;

me take your lives. ‘The girl is inno-
cent—I stole the jewel. Why should
you charge this upon that gentle being,
innocent and pure, aye, purer than
the best of ye! It is I who am guilty.”

“Thou!” cried the gypsy girl, “im.
possible, Fernando!” for it was her
companion of, the dance. And the gen-
tle girl, rejoicing to find one friend so
near her in this fearful moment, threw
her arms about his neck and wept
upon his breast.

“Even so, dear Minitti,” he replied,
“but fear not for me, I shallsoon be
released again. Keep up a brave
heart, dear gir .”

'As he said these words, the Justice
directed officers to release the girl
and commit the young man ‘to prison,
glad of an opportunity to clear one
whom he could not find in his heart
to commit.

The Justice was Sir George Pasely,-

and that same night while he sat
alone in 'his study, musing upon the
examination of the gypsy and the sin-
gular circumstance relating to it, a
servant announced that a stranger
desired to see him. He was admitted
and the tall, gaunt person of the

gypsy leader was before him. Sir
George motioned him to a seat.
“Judge,”’ said he at once, “I am a

man of a few words. I have come here
on a matter of business, and with your
permission will speak at once to the
point.”

“Go on, sir.”

“Twelve years ago,” continued the
gypsy, “you lost,a child.”

The old man sprang like an infuri-
ated animal upon the person of the
gypsy, and seizing-him by the throat,
had nearly thrown "him upon the floor
before the gypsy sufficiently recovered
himself to release his neck from Sir
George’s grasp. ' '

“Stay,” said the gypsy, casting off
the Justice with on case that showed
at once his superior physical power,
and with a degree of composure that
E’ved him to be no . stranger to

cones of personal conflict. “no power
on earth can make me speak unless I
choose. Now deal with me like a man
and I will do so; resort to force, and
I am dumb forever.” I

, “Speak then," said the old man,
trembling in every limb, speak—what
of my child?”

“As I said before, this is purely a
matter of business on my part ” con-
tinued the gypsy. “will you give me
£50 if I will return your daughter to
you???

Without a word further, Sir George
drew a bill upon his bank for the
ammrnt specified, saying to the gypsy
as The exhibited the draft, honestly
drawn and filled up:

“Now, 611', speak, and if you give me
faithful intelligence, upon. my honor
the draft and money shall be yours. ”

‘Efiorbgh, I am satisfied. Now, Sir
George, the girl that was tried be-
fore you today, .charged with the
theft, is thy daughter.”

“My God!” exclaimed the agitated
parent, scarcely able to contain him.
self, <“bring her to me at once.”

“Stay, sir,” continued the gypsy,

. “first let me explain to you my own

' agency in the affair.” ‘ V

 

L

 

 

"No matter, no matter, I forgive
you—bring me my chil .”

“But I ask no forgiveness; first let
me explain. I learned this secret in
a distant land, from a man who had
been paid to destroy your child, but
who, taking a fancy to her, preferred
to save her life, and adopted her.
When I learnedthis from him he was
on his deathbed. I promised him to
bring her to you. I have done so, and
now only demand payment for my
expenses.”

At the expiration of an hour, during
which Sir George could hardly conquer
his impatience, Minitti, the lovely dan-
seuse, entered St. George’s apart-
ment, and was. at once clasped in his
arms, with barely a word that told
her all. ,

“Oh, heaven!” said the father, while
he alternately pressed her to his
heart, and heldher from him, that he
might see more clearly her womanly
perfections, “I thank thee for at last
returning her to me, so beautiful, so
gentle, so lovely, dye, and so pure;
there can be no guile or deceit in that
face,” and Sir George was almost be-
side“ himself with joy and delight.
“Louise,” said he, the tears streaming
from his eyes, “dear, dear Louise.”

“I do remember that name,” said
she, musing, “it comes over me like a
d1eam, long, long forgotten.”

“Ah, my child,” said Sir George,"

“nothing on earth shall again separate
us f1om each other.’

“But father, dear father.” said
Louise, bewildered and over happy,
will you release Fernando?” ‘

“Aye, at once. The brave fellow
would have saved thee at the expense
of his own liberty and shall be suitably
rewarded.” _

As he spoke he wrote an order for
his immediate release, which was des-
patched forthwith by a servant, with
directions to bring the gypsy to Sir
George’s apartment. In the meantime
Louise’s early history was crowded
upon her astonished ears, almost in
a single breath.

Fernando came at last, little d1ea-m-
ing of the document that was a“ £111-
ing him. He was surprised to find
Minitti in the company of Sir George
and at once rightly conjectured that
his release was owing to her interces-
sion, but his astonishment was be-
yond description when the true posi-
tion of the matter was explained to
him. Suddenly he became sad, and a
tear even trembled in his handsome
eye, when the Justice asked:

“What grieves you, my friend?"

“To realize, sir, that Mini-tti’s find-
ing a father must be the cause of our
separation.”

“How so, sir?”

“Would one of your blood and stand-
ing in the world marry a child to one
of the prescribed race?”

“Aye,” 'said the Justice, “Louise
should be yours if you were the—the
-—I won’t exactly say what, after the
proofs of affection you have shown
her.”

Fernando pressed the tearful girl to
his lefliSt, saying:

“Dear Louise, blessed be the power

that -"ove11ules us all.”

“Dear Fernando, how happy we shall
be now, with every opportunity for im-
provement and all the things you have
taught me, to read, to write, and
everything. I can improve them all.”

“We will, indeed,” replied Fernando.
Then, turnng 'to the Justice, said:
“The trial is passed, and now I, too,
will speak. One year since I made a
vow on quitting my studies that I
would seek a wife who should love
me for myself alone. Being of noble
birth—nay, start not, it is true—I as-
sumed these rustic garments, and de-
teimined to wear them until I found
a l1ca1t and moved it worthy of my

’ love. I saw Louise as a gypsy. I loved

her at once, yet I determined to keep
my oath. I tested her affection in every
reasonable way, and learned to love
her for her purity of mind, as well
as her extraordinary beauty, and when
the time had nearly come for me to

take a gypsy wife to my bosom, lo, I -

find her of gentle birth like myself,
while each has truly proved the other’s
love.”

Fernando de Cortez was indeed born
of the blood royal of Spain, and in
this romantic way had he chosen him-
self -11 wife. We might make our tale
more complete by adding to it, but still
we could only show that happiness
was the future lot of the gypsy dan-
seuse.—-Buffalo Times.

To Prevent Walls Becoming Damp.

The walls of a stone house and some-
times of a, brick house are covered with
dampness. This is due to the very
same causes by which dew is deposited
on grasses or moisture on the side of
a glass or pitcher that is filled with ice
water and brought into a warm room.
The walls become cold, and as stone is
a non-conductor of heat, they remain
cold for a long time. When the
weather changes suddenly from cold
to warm the air becomes filled with
moisture, for the warmer the air is
the more moisture it will absorb. When
this warm air strikes the cold wall, the
moisture is deposited on it from the
air, which is suddenly cooled by con-
tact with them, and as the warm air is

continually coming in contact with the

cold walls, the dampness accumulates
until it appears like dew upon them,
and pours down in streams at times.
It is easily prevented. No plaster
should be put directly opon brick or
stone, but furring strips should be
nailed to the wall and the laths put on
these. Cellars are frequently made
very dump in the same way by too
much ventilation in warm weather.

, “What extenuating circumstances
can you give?” asked the judge.

.,“Please your honor, I made the
money to. pay for my’lodg1ng*” re~
plied the counterfelter.

“\ ery good. It will pay for your
board and lodgings for the next five
years.”

’1 .

. A... “nan—=3

I

 

 

slam
A CHICAGO WOMAN.

ONE OF THE MOST _BRILLIANT OF
HER SEX E‘AST OR WEST.

Mn. Potter Palmer Has Tact and is in
Nowise “New.” She Was Largc 1y In
ltrumental in Ito-establishing iier 1-.»-
band’s Fortunes After the (treat Fire.
In a time when most of the conspicu—
ous women of the country have been
trying to shape for themselves man-
like, careers, Mrs. Potter Palmer’s ca-
reer has been being first a woman and
everything womanly.
She has approached every problem
from the woman’s point of view, she

- has fought her battles with woman’s

weapons. Her signal successes have
made her the great stumbling-block in
the way of the “advanced” members
of her sex, who urge discarding their
natural tools to make a shift with the
methods and weapons of men.

Before this remarkable Woman mar-

ried Potter Palmer, in 1871, her name
was Bertha Honore. She came of a
distinguished French Creole family
that had settled in Kentucky.

 

MRS. POTTER PALMER. ~

Mrs. Palmer first showed evidence of
her commanding spirit, it is said, in the
case of her husband, who was pros-
trated by his loss in the Chicago

fire. When the great " blaze began
she was the Wife of a man with a rent-

‘ roll of $200,000 a year. When it had

burned itself out Potter Palmer owed
$15, 000 for taxes which he couldn’t
pay

Those who claim to know say that it
was Mis. Palmer, then hardly more
than a girl, who succeeded in mort-
gaging the ash-covered real estate for
enough‘to begin the fight over again.

As soon as Potter Palmer took heart
once more it did not take him long to
pile up another great fortune, and
much of the new Chicago is a monu-
ment to his energy.

Mrs. Palmer’s unerring tact, ’ her

' woman’s shrewdness and quickness of

intuition, her keen and well-balanced
mind, her personal charm as much as
her great wealth have made her for
many years the leader in the develop-
ment of a polite and plutocratic so-_
ciety in Chicago, Her marked ability
in the management of charities and
whatever kind of woman’s work
she took hold of, united with the
wealth and prominence of her husband,
made her selection as President of the
Board of Lady Managers of the Co-
lumbian Exhibition :1 natural one.

Her success in shedding sweetness
and light upon the ofttimes cloudy
sessions of an executive council of rep-
resentative “ advanced” women gave
her a national prominence at once.
But that was not all. She entertained
that difficult and uncompromising
1oyal pe1sonage, the Spanish Infanta
Eulalia, and gained the distinction of
being the only woman in America who
could get on with her.

Since the fair she has travelled much
abroad, and has been received with
distinction at the Court of Italy and at
the Vatican as representative in an
almost official sense of the woman of
America.

 

Lack of Precise Knowledge.

We laugh at «the vague ideas of
America entertained by our English
cousins; but how many bright Ameri-
can youth, who are fresh f1om their
geographies, could name the different
counties in England; or could tell
whether Leeds and Biimingham W cm
in York or Lin'colnshire, Herts or
Kent? Yet very likely these very same
youth would laugh long and loud if an

glish cousin should locate Boston
in Missouri or St. Louis in Texas.
When we reach the Antipodes, many
Americans carry a still more startling
and varied stock of misinformation.
How many realize that it is a five
days’ journey across the channel that
separates New Zealand from Austra-
lia, the two great islands of the Aus-
tralasian empire? How many know
much about the political situation of
Victoria and New South Wales, of
Queensland and South Australia?
How many realize that it is a rail-
way journey of two thousand miles
between Adelaide and Brisbane, and
that this little strip of coast constitutes
largely the inhabited portion of the
island continent?

How a Ship’s Speed is Found.

A ship’s rate is found by a line
about nine hundred feet long, on a
reel having one end fastened to a thin,
setor—shapcd piece of wood called a
log. The are of the 'log is loaded to
make it stay vertical when tossed into
the sea. It then remains in the same
place in the water while the line is
unwinding from the reel. The line is
divided into equal parts of fifty feet
each, called knots, or one one-hundred
and twentieth of 3. nautical mile. Since
a half minute has the same ratio to
an hour that a knot has to a nautical
mile, the ship runs an hour as it runs
knots in half a minute. If, say. nine
teen knots pass in half a minute, the
vessel is then running at the rate of
nineteen miles an hour.

LThe Chinese believe that the water
obtained from melting hailstones is

poisonous, and that rain water which '

falls on certain feast days will c1119
ague and malarial fever.

 

GAZE

1F RICH WERE POOR.

MILLIONAIRE HUNTINGTON TELLS
WHAT HE WOULD DO.

He Would Spend Less' Than He Earned.

No llIatter 'What Bil Seeming Necessi-
ties Were, “And Before Long I Would
Be Ahead Again." ‘

The New York Journal recently in-
terviewed a laborer and~ a rich man to
ascertain what each would do were he
in the financial position of the other.
Collis P. Huntington, millionaire and
railroad magnate, told what be die
when he was poor and what he would
do again.

" W hat would I do if I were a labore1
at $1.15 a day,” queriedl Mr. Hunting
ton. "To begin with, I’d just spend a
little less than I made. If I only made

fifty cents a day I wouldn’t spend it all,

no matter what my necessities were.
That is the foundation 011 which every
man‘s life should be built. I have never
spent as much as 1 made. Evpn when
I worked on a farm at wages aggrega-
ing little more in a month than th-~
man you tell me of makes in aday. .i
didn’t spend it all, I put by something.
Today it is the same, and if tomorrow
I should lose every dollar I have in the
world I’d begin on that basis again, and
before very long, I would be ahead
again. Then I wouldn’t give up at 4.11.
I have lived about three quar'te1s of a
centu1y to- day, but if to n1011'ow I had
to start all over again I shouldn’t let
myself feel that my age was aebar to
success. That is the trouble with most
men; they float with‘ the tide, and after
a time they get so strongly into the
habit of doing this that they think they
have no chance—they are too old! No-
body is ever too old to strive for success
and independence.

“Of coure,” Mr. Huntington went on,
“it is a difficult matter to put yourself
in another man’s place. but there are
certain fundamental rules that I would
follow whether I were making $1.75 a
day or a thousand times that much. I
would cut off my small vices. If I
could not get the pleasure that I craved
with my income, I’d take what I could
get. I’d live plainly; in fact, [do live
today as plainly as any man can. I
could live on fifty cents a day and not
starve or feel the want of food.

“I would always hold on one job un-
til I saw another and a better one ahead,
and I would do the best that I could
whenever the place in which I found
myself. I would never be content to
remain anywhere except at the top or
near it, but at the same time I would
keep my head steady and not run after
shadows. It is not much money—81.75
a day—but if a man is only constituted
that way he may get as much satisfac-
tion out of it as many men get out of
millions. After all, money is not every-
thing, though many people think other-
wise.
can do nothing with by itself.

“I would Seek to get as much content-
ment out of life on $1. 75 a day as I do
now. ' My pleasures would be in pro-
portion. What they would be I cannot
say. But, above all, Iwould never get
out of work or money. In all my work-

ing life—and I started out very young

and very poor—I have never known the
want of money, because I have always
had more than I spent, and I always
made it a. rule not to want anything I
could not aflord. In that way I got a
good deal of satisfaction out of life, and
little worry—financial worry.

“Any man can succeed,” insisted Mr.
Huntington, ,“who makes up his mind
to. This $1.75 workingman can suc-
ceed, even now, if he will go about‘it
right, and I would go about it right
were I in his place.”

He then told a story.
trate this point. ‘ -

“Away back in ’49,” he said, “I knew
a, man who had every prospect of suc-
cess. Today he is a barkeeper in San
Francisco, or he was when I was there
last. We were pretty friendly, and I
used to let him have 81,000, then 82,000
and up to $5,000 a month to clear 11p his
balances. After awhile, however, I got
tired of that, and refused to let him
have any more. He failed, as I felt he
would do sooner or later. Then he said
to me:

“How is it that I, who works as hard
and perhaps harder than you, can’t suc-
seed, while you are reputed to be worth
millions?”

"Well,” I said, “I see you going into
.yertain places where they. sell wine at
$10 or $20 a bottle. You take your cus-
tomers there. Well, I don’t do that sort
of , thing, and, moreover,
have customers who did. I wouldn’t
trust them.

“That man,” he continued, “didn't
agree with me, and today, he keeps
bar. If I were in Mr. Davis’s shoes I’d
do in my small way just as I advised
the San Francisco man. I would lead a
decent, straight, moral, honest life, do
what was right, right in my own mind,
and I’d soon stop chipping bricks.”

It was to illusi

Did the Dog Reason:

A New York physician has a large
pug dog, and, being something of a
sportsman, he recently heught a setter
pup, full-grown. Not long after the
pug dog found a bone, brought it into
the house, and lay down with it be?
tween his paws. The setter coveted
that bone, and walked round and round
the pug with eyes fixed longingly on it,
but without the courage to seize it.
Suddenly he darted out of the door and
rushed about, barking furiously. This'
was too much for the self-restraint of
the pug, who forsook the bone and ran
narking into the yard, determined to

.1-e a share in the row. There was

doing in sight, but the instant the

r :11 poured the setter dashed intoht'he

1.1,. seized the bone, and made, off

_ .1 1t. . ‘
Experience Taught Him.

The boy hung back when the visitor
poke to him, and his mother was nat—
orally annoy ed.

“Won’ 15 you go to Mr.
Willie? ’ she said.
N o ” replied the boy shortly. ,

“Dont you like me?" asked Mr.
Brown. good naturedlv. ‘

Brown,

Monoy' IS the only thing that you

I wouldn’t

 

 

T T E.
A NEW GOVERNOR.

THE LAT E GOV. CREENHALGE’S SUC’
CESSOR IN THE BAY STATE.

No Handsomer and No Better Dressed
Man in Massachusetts. Not an Orator
2or a Handshaker, but aClear Debate:
and a Good. Campaigner.

Roger Wolcott, the acting Governor
of Massachusetts, is a Boston man, the
son of the late Lieut. J. Huntington
Wolcott. He comes from a family as
old as New England itself, closely iden-
tified with the early history of the colo-
nies,an-1 conspicuous in the colonial
and revolutionary Wars; ‘

Mr. Wolcott is the fourth Governor

'in his family, the other three having

achieved Success in Connecticut. He
was born on- July 18,1847. His hair is
prematurely silvered, but in constitu:
tion and deportment he is a much
younger man than the date of his birth
would indicate. Six feet in l1ei ght and
of athletic frame, he' is pointed0 out on
the streets of Boston many times a week
as a person of striking appearance by
men who do not know him. Always a
student and a. close reader, he was
known among the students of Harvard
338 young man of considerable literary
attainments. He was orator of his
class, which was graduated in 1870.

After leaving Harvard Mr. Wolcott
bent all his energies to the study 0!
law. He was admitted to the bar, but
like his close friend, Henry Cabot
Lodge, never practiced, all his time be
ing occupied by his many afiairs and
his duties as trustee of seve1 211 large es
tates. His office 15 on the sixth floor of
the Exchange Building in State street.
He has occupied there one large room,
rather bare and lonely looking. His in-
clinations pointed toward politics, but
his extreme modesty long kept him in
the background. '

Nature seemed to have fitted him for
ahigh place, but politicians hereabout
always maintained that he required
somebody behind him to do the push-
ing. He was not aggressive enough,
but everybody admitted that he pos-
sessed most of the other essential re
quirements.

.'i V I -‘
. "-'~.¢1“’”

i‘l’ul
‘11,
‘ ““3.“

1

 

ROGER WOLCOT‘I‘.

Mr. Wolcott was started on his po-
litical career in 1877, when he was sent
to the Common Council, where he re.
mained until 1879. '

In 1882 he was elected to the lower
branch of the Legislature, and he was
re—elected in 1583 and 1884. While in
the Common Council and the Legisla-
ture Mr. Wolcott was regarded as a
hard-working, conscientious man. He

‘ was not conspicuous in politics from

1884 to 1890, but he gave his friends a
tremendous surprise when President
Cleveland came into the field. For a
time he was a Mugwump. He spoke
and voted against James G. Blaine, and
with Richard H. Dana practically defied
the old-line Republicans.

' In 1885 Mr. Wolcott and Richard H.
Dana were sent to Springfield as dele

gates to the State Republican Conven-

tion. In 1891 he was chosen President
of the Republican Club, and in 1892 he
was elected Lieutenant Governor of the
State.
was Governor.

Mr. Wolcott held second place from‘
that time until Gov. Greenhalge’s
death. Four years ago, when there
was talk of running him for Governor,
he wrote:

“My attitude toward the nomination
15 this: That in what seems to me the
wholly improbable event of the Repub—
licans of the State wishing to place me
1:: nomination, I should consider it ‘ a
wholly undeserved compliment and
honor. and should not decline, but I do
not seek the nomination, and if it should
go elsewhere, as Ithink it will, it would
be to me personally a relief rather than
a disappointment.”

Mr. Wolcott will be the logical can~
iidate of the Republicans next fall, but
theAmerican Protective Society, headed

‘ by Congressman Rising Sun Morse,

, want his political scalp, and will try to
get it.

 

Not a’ New Woman.

They were discussing politics, and
shore had been a noticeable lack of log-
16 in any of her remarks and argu-
ments. At last he said with a little
1augh:

“I don’t believe you can give me a
tingle good reason for your being a
Democrat.”

‘Are you willing to make a bet on it?"
she asked.

“I am, ” was the reply “If you can
10 it you have two pounds of marrow
glaces, to- morrow.”

“Well, then,” she said, with a merry
twinkle in her eye. “I am a Democrat
because my father is.”

7 She got the bonbons.—New York ‘

‘I'Iournal.

An Instance.

“Moral courage,” said the teacher,“ls
the courage that makes a boy do what
he thinks is right regardless of the Jeers
of his companions.’

- “Then. ” said Willie, “if a fellcr has
:andy and eats it all hisself and isn’t
iii-raid of the other fellers ca lin’ him
stingy, is that moral coura ge?”-—Ci11

1 cinnati Enquirer.

 

ABOUT OUR DUOHESS.

Charming She Is.“

The Duke and Duchess of Marlbor—
ough have given seine most successful
dinner parties at the house [Lev have
taken for the season in Audiey Square.
The young Duchess is rapidly gaining
'the afiections of her English relatives
and connédtions.

She is quiet. natural, and very sweet
in disposition. She is not exactly pret-
ty, but she has a sweet and charming
face. Aclear, rather pale. complezdon
and dark hair, and deep, clear, gray
blue eyes, that often look quite dark.
She is very tall and slight, and carries
herself erect and gracefully. Her voice
ispretty, and altogether her grace is
really a great social acquisition, says
the London Lady Pictorial.

—_+_———‘—‘ ‘
About the ”on... "‘

Don’t hang your walls with cheap
prints or glaring oil paintings. A few
choice pictures will be more ornamental
than a dozen gaudy ones. .

Don’t overload the mantel shelves:
with a confused mass of bric-a-brac. A
well chosen bit of china, 3. large vase

that the ordinary mantel requires.

Don’t tie bows on the back of the par-
lor chairs or drape your picture frames
with scarfs.

Don’ t leave y our halls bare and unin-
viting. Make them as cosy and attrac—
tive as possible. Since first impressions
are everything, one cannot devote too
much attention to the entrance of the
house.

Don’t use paper shades on your lamps.
Yellow porcelain gives a good light, but
blue and green shades produce an un-
canny effect.

Don’t forget that green linen shades
for the windows in summer are a great
improvement to all the rooms.

Don’t use figured silk curtains atyour
book cases. Solid colors that harmonize
with the rest of the room are much
more attractive. .

Don’t crowd your parlor with so many
handsome things that it is too fine for
comfort.

Don' tuse elaborate patterns" 1n pressed
glass. If you cannbt afiord the genuine
cut glass it is much better taste to use
something simpler.

Don’t buy light colored rugs for
floor coverings, for as a usual thing they
do not furnish Well.

Don‘t drape the windows too elabo-
rately with curtains. .1 They keep out
the sunlight and make‘a room unhealth-

‘l ful.

Don’ t overdecorate, and don’ t furnish
a room in all colors. Harmony is al-
ways desirable.

HOUSEHOLD HINTS-
To save the fingers when cleaning fish
cut ofi the fins with a’ pair of scissors.
Figs that have grown dry may be
freshened by putting them up on a plate

and keeping them in a steamer until
moist and plump. A dessert can be

A London Paper Tells How Sweet and ,

and an artistic piece of drapery are all ”

made by dredging figs with powdered ,

sugar and serving salted peanuts with
them.

If you are obliged to have your hands
in strong soapy water 1n washing dishes
or doing other household duties, a little
vinegar rubbed upon them when taken
from the water will improve them as
well as help to keep the skin white.

A whisk broom. made with the edge
slanting so that one end is longer than
the other, is much better than onelwith
a straight edge for brushing the dust out
of the corners of the room band from the
edge of the carpets. This broom' IS par-

 

The Hon. William E. Russell ,

I

‘ paper.

ticularly‘ adapted to brushing down
stair carpeting.

To make a good fly paper, boil to-
Igether equal parts by weight of glue
and molasses. With an oldo knife spread
the mixture while hot over heavy brown
Place a piece of this paper in
every room in the house. It will cap—
ture every fly 1n the room within the
day.

For removing grease stains on mat-
ting try wetting the spot with alcohol,
and then rubbing with white Castile
soap. Let the soap dry and then with
it off with warm salt water.

Twigs and small branches may be
-made to look like coraland to 11.- var
ornamental. The process will help to
amuse the y oung people on a. rainy af‘
ternoon. Melt together four parts of
ye llow rosin and one part of vermilion;
the twigs into it, covering every

‘ part, and mm let them dry without

touching each other. A bunch of coral
fastened to the corner of a. picture

» frame, another branch coming from be

bind a picture, and a bunch tied with a
ribbon bow upon a scrap basket are all

’ decorative.

l

Ono having a fancy for preserving nat-
ural flowers may do so by dipping them
'into melted paraffin. The mixture
should be only warm enough to remain
,nuid. Hold the flewers by the stems,

’ which should be free from all except the

1
i
f
l
l
i

 

natural moisture, dip them 1n the fluid,
give them a quick turn to remove the
air cells, and place them in a glass un-
til the the coating becomes firm.

WEEK

56 YEARS ESTABLISHBE

GRAND AND UPRIGHT.
Over 100,000 Manufactured.
EASY TERMS. EXCHANGED.
REASONABLE PRICES.

FISCHER PIANO WAREROOMS,

IIO Fifth Ave.‘, cor. lath 8t., N. Y.
WrihforCatalogie. ,

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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