:«v s -.
‘lt would never be.
_..w 14.15qu -i\0R'w A'Lk"? GAZETTE
AN IRPEH ~LOVE SONG.
I‘ In the years about twenty;
(When kisses are plenty)
The love of an Irish lass fell toi‘my fate-,
So wiusome and sighily,
So saucy and sprightly
priest was a prophet that christened
her Kate.
m
T11!
Soft gray of the dawning,
Bright blue or the morning,‘
The sweet of her eye there was nothing to
mate;
WA nose like a fairy’s,
A cheek like a cnerry’s.
a smile—well, her smile was like—
nothing but Kate.
And
To see her was passion.
To love her, the fashion;
What wonder my heart “'zls unwilling to
wait!
And, darling to love her.
I soon did discover
A Katharine masking in mischievous hate.
No Katy unruly,
But Katharine .truly—
Fond, serious. patient. and even sedate;
With a :‘510W in her gladuess
Thai. banishes sadness
Yet stay! Slxbuld I (‘lC’ll‘ the sunshine to
Kate!
Love cannot outlive it,
Wealth cannot o'ergive it—
That saucy surrender she made at the
gate,
0 Time, be but human,
Spare the girl in the woman!
You gave me my Katharine—leave me my
Kate?
Cznim.
A HINT WELL TAKEN.
Everybody knew that George Honey-
suckle was in love with May Rosebud.
I‘hey had grown up together, gone to
the same school and the same church
together, and belonged to the same
social set ever since they were child-
ren. They were always together
whenever the opportunity offered, and
their presents to each other were
counted by the score. It had been un-
derstood by all the people of their set
that George and May were as good as»
engaged, and yet it wasalso under-
stood that they were not.
Things had gone on thus in a sweet
and aimless way until May had be-
come a radiant maiden of twenty—three
summers, and her friends were begin.
ning to tease and chaff her on the sub-
,ject.
VfSVhen it is going to be?” they would
-Johuson,
ask her, but May could only smile
and say, with a sigh, “I’m sure I don’t
. know.”
By and by it began to be said that
Yet there was no
doubt that George was deeply in love
"with May and that May had lost her
Zheart to George.
The trouble was
that poor George knew he was in love.
and knew that May knew it, and yet
was afraid to tell her. It is probable
that he never would have told her if
the bicycle had never been invented.
As it was George. and May caught
the wheeling fever, and a very hand-
some pair they were, as they went
spinning along the smooth aud well-
kept roads of the Oranges. No, they
did not ride a “bicycle built for two.”
George would never have had the
pluck to propose that. George had no
pluck as a proposer of anything. As
it was Leap Year some of May’s girl i
friends, who were eager to figure as
bridesmaids, suggested that she should
go to George’s rescue and “pop" the
question herself. But May was a
modest maiden and shook her shapely
head emphatically at the suggestion.
So matters went on till the Autumn
days came and the leaves were falling,
and though they had registered hun-
dreds of miles on their cyclometers
George had never dared to whisper,
even in the most secluded corners of
the longest lanes, that he would like
to keep spinning for life with May.
haze mantled the Orange mountains
and draped the valley below in a blue
mist, Cupid took them-‘both by the
hand and rounded off their iittle ro-
l
I
I
'But one lovely day. when a tender ,
mance. And this isiihow it happened. .
They had come to the top of a hill
and May, resting-her dainty feet on
the coasters. spun away from George
at a merry pace. George hesitated a'
moment to follow the example. and al-
most before he knew it May was a
couple of hundred yards ahead of him.
Seized by the spirit of fun May de-
cided to increase the distance and pro-
voke him to a chase. She was quite
a third of a mile in the lead when she
'_heard George’s bell ringing for all it
' was worth. She understood it was a
‘signal for her to slow up. But she
kept on. Muscle will tell, however,
and presently George gained upon her
and came alongside.
“I’m .tired,” he said “What do you
say to a rest?”
“Certainly, if it will oblige you,” she
said, and with that they dismounted
and soon they were leaning together
on a convenient farmer's gate.
“Didn’t you hear my ring?" he
asked.
“Your ring, George? Did I hear
your ring?” she said—and as she said
it she glanced archly down at her left
hand, and elevated the third finger just
the least little bit.
“You don’t mean it, do you May?”
he exclaimed, with a sudden rush of
courage that set his heart fluttering
as badly as if he" had been climbing
a long and very steep hill.
There was a long silence, and George
became aware that all the birds in
"New Jersey were singing so loudly
that it seemed impossible that he
should hear May if she spoke again.
They rode home aft-er lingering at
the farmer’s gate a while, and the next
evening May both hear-l and saw
George’s ring.
J. W. C.
A woman’s ideal of a wife is one
who gives up everything to her bus:
band; a man’s ideal of a wife is one,
.who gives up everything to him.-
Now York Press.
a
. doned,
MI SS BERWI-CK’SLUCK
_—
BY PA U l. CARSON.
Miss Berwick was small and retir-
ing, while the city was big and ag-
gressive. The two did not 1.365“ ”D “"C“
together. Miss Berwick sewed for a
living and dwelt in a little hall bed-
room up four flights of stairs. in com-
pany with a tiny oil stove and dimin-
utive folding bed.
She was in mortal dread of both of
these articles, fearing that one would
blow up or the other fold up unex-
pectedly and find her unprepared.‘
Miss Berwick had a cousin, Mrs.
Green, her only relative and friend in
the unfriendly city. This cousin in-
vited Miss Berwick to a Sunday diu—
ner, an invitation which was gladly ac-
cepted, for, having on Saturday night
paid a week’s room rent in advance.
there was only a dollar left ii. Miss
Berwick’s shabby pocket-book, and a
good square meal was not to be light-
ly declined. '
Mrs. Green lived in the suburbs, sev-
eral blocks from a car line, and trudg.
ing thither-ward in the hot sun, the
little woman found herself looking
backward to the hard winter during
which she had barely existed.
“I don’t see how I can ever live
through another,” she thought.
Mrs. Green occupied one of those ag-
gravating houses 'whose front door
opens directly into the front room—
“the parlor,” Mrs. Green called it—and
there Miss Berwick was cordially
welcomed by the Greens big and little.
She took off her bonnet andlaid it
with her pocket-book and gloves on a
stand near the door, and went out to
dinner, which was ready in the adj-oin-
lng room. Mrs. Green carefully closed
the parlor door to keep out the heat,
and no one remembered to lock the
front door. They sat at“ the table a
long time, but upon their return to the
cooler room the visitor at once noticed
that something had happened. The
purse still lay where it had been
placed, but how changed! Instead of
being a flat, poverty-stricken pocket.
book, its normal condition, it was
partly open, and its fat sides were
nearly bursting with greenbacks.
“Look here!” Miss Berwick gasped.
Mrs. Green looked.
“Henry.” she called sharply. “come
here!”
Mr. Green, dropping his pipe, came
in hastily from the porch.
“Where did that money come from?"
demanded Miss Berwick.
“Where?" echoed Mrs. Green.
“It’s a miracle!” said Miss Berwick.
“Miracles are not so easily ex-
plained,” rejoined the practical Mr.
Green, calmly.
“Explain this, then,” said. his wife.
“That is easy. Is the street door
locked?”
it was ajar.
“And look here,” cried Mrs. Green.
“here‘s my ‘Evangeline’ with the leaf
torn out,” picking it up from the floor;
and sure enough, some one had hastily
torn a fly leaf from the front of “Evan-
geline,” and being in a hurry had left
the book on the floor where it fell.
“Let‘s count it," suggested Miss Ber-
wick. and to their astonishment they
found fifteen hundred dollars.
“I’m going to turn it over to the po-
lice at once,” she declared.
“That’s right,” assented Mr. Green.
“I’ll go down with you.”
“And so will I,” said his wife, feel~
ing that her cousin would need 3 WO-
man’s sympathy when giving up fif-
teen hundred dollars, even if it did
belong to some one else.
An hour later a. man and two wo-
men, one of the latter excited and the
other looking scared, appeared before
the chief of police with fifteen hundred
dollars and an astounding story as to
where they got it. The chief took the
money, however. locked it up with
“Evangeline,” which Mrs. Green had
brought along as a possible clue.
The chief said,
“The owner will doubtless notify
the department of his loss or else the
morning papers will advertise it."
The chief of police retained the mon-
ey and the copy of “Evangeline,” and
then the morgue—that great revealer
of secrets—unravelled the mystery.
One day the body of a well-dressed
woman was taken from the river. On
her hand was a wedding ring. In an
oil-silk bag attached to a chain around
her neck and worn inside her clothing
was a diamond ring, twenty-five dol-
lars in money, and a note written on
a piece of paper whose jagged edges
were afterward found to fit exactly
in the place where the fly leaf was
torn from Mrs. Green’s “Evangeline."
The note read:
“I am a childless widow, without a
relative. They say I, am insane. It .
may be. I am going to drown myself ‘
in the river that flows at my feet while i
I write this. 'Better death than a mad- 9
house. I had fifteen hundred dollars,
which was left of my husband’s life
insurance. I saw a door ajar and went
in and put (the money in a pocket-
book. It looked as if its owner were
poor. I give the money to the owner
of the pocket-book.”
That was all, no date, no name, and
there was no mark on the clothing,
which was evidently of foreign make.
The woman looked like a French wo-
man. They buried her decently. Mr.
and Mrs. Green and Miss Berwick fol-
lowed her to the grave.
Months elapsed, and all hope of
learning anything more being aban-
the money and ring were
turned over to Miss Berwick, who
gave the ring to Mrs. Green.
Then, before another winter gripped
the city in its cold arms,.Mlss Ber-
wick fled to the quiet country town of
her girlhood, where, having.established
a little notion store, she lived the rest
of her life in harmony with her en-
vironment. . ..
.4... . .A..- 1-1... ...1..,
f)
A Motive {or a. Musical Education.
No influence can be brought into a
home more elevating
and ‘ rennin; ,
l
g... .
than music, but too often the acquiri ‘
ing of musical skill and knowledge
by a child or young person is given a
wrong motive. The knowledge is val-
ued. as a means of attracting attention
to self rather than to the making of
life to self and to others more lovely
and Cheerful. The power to create
sweet melodies for others to enjoy
should be a great and unselfish pleas-
ure.
Too rarely is the musical education 5
used for the brightening of the home.
Too rarely is it considered “worth
while” to play or sing for the grati-
fication of one or more members of a
family or the family.
Music not only gratifies the sense of
hearing, but is the most powerful
stimulus to the imagination. It paints
pictures which no artist can repro-
duce, it writes poems of sweeter
rhythm and meter than have ever
been written.
“Play that little march again,” said
a tired man to his daughter, as he lay
with closed eyes on a couch, resting
after a hard day’s work and worry.
“I should think you would be tired
hearing it,” she replied, a little petu-
lantly, but she played it over, this time
with more care and feeling than be-
fore.
“It always rests me,” said the weary
man. “It brings before me a. picture
of willows by a brook, a peaceful
landscape where cattle graze. At the
second part, the scene changes some-
what, but the willows are there, :11-
ways waving gently in the summer
wind. It is beautiful.”
Never again did that daughter think
it not worth while to play for her
father.——\Vomankind. £
Nutritious Food for Children.
Children need more nutritious food
than older people do; or at least they
suffer more from the want of it. Po—
tatoes, white bread, pastry and the
many kinds of sweets that make up
the food of grown people do not sup-
ply the necessary nutriment for the
growing brain, bone and muscle of
children. Sooner or later a diet con-
taining so .much starch will tell on the
system; it may be in a ruined diges-
tive apparatus, weakened bones, or in
many other forms of weaknesses al-
most unkno'wn in by-gone days. when
plain and simple food was the rule.
In most foreign countries sweets (ex-
cept at holiday seasons) are almost
unknown. Sometimes the food is of
the plainest and coarsest, but almost
invariably the children are rugged and
healthy. As soon as children begin
to eat care should be taken that they
have nourishing food, always re-
membering that their stomachs cannot
digest as hearty food as a grown per-
son’s can. It requires but a little
time to prepare some extra dish for
the little one. Rice flake or wheatlet
can be prepared in a few minutes. It
is lightrand children love it. Out
flake may be given in small quantites.
Graham prepared in almost any way
is good. Buckwheat cakes are whole~
some, if the flour is made from clean
grain. It is the smut on buckwheat
which is poisonous and causes erup-
tions on the skim—Troy Times.
How Bonnet Is Made.
“It is strange. but not one person in
a hundred can tell you exactlv what
rennet it,” said a wholesale dealer in
the commodity. “Rennet is the glutin~
ous membrane covering the stomach
of the calf, and its preparation for the
market requires a high degree of skill.
It is obtained first*by cutting away
carefully the lining and soaking it in
salt and water for several days, the
water being changer] every day until
every part is thoroughly cleaned. It
is then placed in a. high clean tub, and
the whole mass is covered with the
very best cherry wine. This is al-
lowed to remain on the rennet till it
becomes a thick jelly-like substance.
which is then dissolved in alcohol and
sherry wine.
“After being reduced sufficiently for
convenient filtering it is passed many
-—often a score of times—through the
filterer, and the result is the clear and
limpid preparation of commerce known
is rennet. Physicians recommend ren-
net as being most nutritious and bene.
ficial for persons’of weak digestion
and dyspeptics. Milk thickened by
pure rennet is at once partly digested
and becomes for the sick a most in-
vigorating nutriment, and for the well
a most delicious dish."-—-Washington
Star. '
A Vine Anyone Can Have.
There is no prettier vine for veranda .
‘ tances from one another.
or rock work or as a covering for an
unsightly place than the cinnamon
vine and bitter sweet planted together.
A ”very desirable quality of both is
that when once planted they come to
stay, for they are both hardy, requir-
ing no more care after being planted
out where they are to remain. Grow—
ing together over an old stump in a
yard they hide it completely from
view, the cinnamon vine with its vig~
orous heart-shaped leaves and long
racemes of white sweet scented fiow-
ers, and the bitter sweet with its beau-
tiful foliage and the vine full of
bright scarlet berries. They are of
easy culture and rapid growth. and the
effect is far superior to some of the
high-priced vines, purchased from a
fi int—Golden Dan. "
01'
.5... ,- ..
~- - ’0...“
NEW YORK FASHIONS.
White in all sorts of materials stands
high in popular favor this summer. It
is usually combined with some daimty
color, and a. gown of this spotless fab-
ric can hardly be called quiet. For the
girl who may only possess one thin
summer frock, white organdie is the
. $1 ’1'».
most. desirable, while a. sash of red,
blue, pink, or some dainty shade given
the necessary touch of color to it.
These diaphanous gowns are gener-
ally made over a drop skirt, some-
times of silk, but oftener of one of
the many imitations, which are much
lighter in weight and serve the pur-
pose quite as well. Another addition
to the present summer skirt is the
circular fiounce, a. fashion which,
though quite common, does not lose
its popularity, but seems to gain in
favor as the season advances. This is
chiefly owing to the fact that they are
made in so many different designs,
there is very seldom a repetition of
the same pattern. Some are made
straight all around, others are narrow
in the front and grow wider toward
in the form of ripples. Many persons.
however, prefer the three dainty lace
trimmed ruffles just at the foot of the
skirt, while others boast tiny ruffles
from the waist line down one after
the other. _
There appears to be no end to the
many lovely accessories for adorning
the neck and encircling the waist of
the fair summer maid. Whether in-
tended for the severe tailor made girl
or the maiden attired in all the finery
necessary for an afternoon tea or an
evening dance, they are all extremely
stylish and up-to—date. Ascots, fore-in-
hands. and string ties in every shade
and material are the proper neck fix-
ings for the shirt waist girl, although
many fancy the fluffy ties of new or
mull brought twice around the neck
and tied in an immense bow beneath
the chin. White taffeta ribbon em-
ployed in this-manner is also popular,
and there is no doubt that these adorn-
ments are moreibecoming than the stif-
fly starched white collar.
For dressy 'woar long scarfs or fine
lace, accordeon pleated chiffon and
stocks and collarettes of every deseripe
lion are worn. One of the newest neck
ndornments is the stock of shirred silk
or chiffon, fitting closely to the neck
and held in place by four handsomely
Jeweled slides, placed at equal dis-
The Medici
ruff, attached to the back of the high
collar and extending up under the ears,
is becoming and stylish, but is also ex-
ceedingly uncomfortable and warm for
hot weather.
With the exception of the princesse
there are very few gowns which do not
need a belt or sash of some descrip-
tion,” and there is without doubt a
goodly array to select from. For wear
with the shirt waist the leather belt is
probably the most appropriate. They
are madeof the finest materials, some-
times studded with precious stones,
but the preferred style. is the plain
leather, clasped with a. gold or silver
buckle. - For the patriotic girl all
manor of emblems are converted into
highly, and are eagerly sought after.
1-."“"
Bye for Pasture.
Rye may be sown for pasture eithei
in the fall or in the early spring. It:
function as a forage plant is to replacr
or supplement the dry fall pasturi
grass, and to afford succulent foragi
in the early spring before the grass ii
ready to be pastured. For this pur
pose it is best sown in the fall. 11
sown about September 1 it will afforc
good pasture in the late fall when
most of the other forage plants haw
succumbed to frost. To obtain tho
best results with milch cows this pas
ture should be supplemented with oth
er feed. In the spring it affords more
luxuriant forage and may be pastured
as soon as the land is fit to turn in:
cattle on (T. L. Lyon, Bulletin 53, Ne
braska Experiment Station). It il
eaten with relish by stock up to tin
time of blossoming. After that tin
stalks are too woody to be relished by
stock.
If it is desired to use it for pas
ture later than this, it should be sow:
in the spring. By sowing rye it is possi
ble to use land for early pasture, plov
it up and use for a summer crop, o;
for summer pasture with another for
age crop. Seed at the rate of 11/2 to :
bushels to the acre, either with a pres:
drill or broadcast. After the plant:
are up, keep the surface of the soi
loose with the barrow. Do not pas
ture in the fall until the plants havo
become well established. Many dairy
men object to rye pasture on till
grounds that it gives an unpleasan'
taste to the milk and butter. It seem:
possible to remove this objection b1
taking the cattle off the rye two 0:
three hours before milking and by
feeding something in addition to tin
rye.——American Agriculturist.
Thinning Fruit.
The principal cause of so much smal
scabby and ill-shaped fruit being sen
to market is that the fruit grows too
thick on the trees. If a crop of corn
turnips, or any of our annual crops ii
planted too thick the damage is onl:
for the present; but if a tree be al
lowed to bear too full, it may injuri
the next and perhaps the next two on
three crops in the future. If a peacl
tree, for instance, is quite full, it ma}
be thinned to one-half at any time be
fore the seed hardens and will be abli
to produce as many pounds of fruit as
it would if not thinned and of course
of better quality. It is the maturing
of the seed that exhausts the vitality
Some varieties of fruit are recog
nized as alternate bearers, and the rea
son is obvious. They are so busy ma
turlng their enormous crop this yea)
that they have no time to prepar.
fruit buds for the next; besides, thel.
vitality is so exhausted that they re
quire a year or more of good car-e t\
prepare for another crop. By a impel
and judicious thinning, these sami
trees may be brought to a habit of an
nual bearing of good and profitable
crops that will handle quickly, sel
readily, and for double or triple thi
price of small, knotty fruit. Farmer:
could well afford to take a little tinu
from the regular farm work and thir
their fruit trees.
Burning Stumps.
The months of August and Septem
her are the best for the eradication 01
old stumps. Nothing connected witl'
farming is more aggravating that
those “thorns of the ground.”
There is no better way than to burr
them out, and this may be done by 2
simple and cheap method. A shee‘
iron cylinder large enough to slip dowr
over the large stumps is used. This
cylinder tapers into a cone-shaped fig
ure the size of a stovepipe. Severa
joints of stovepipe are then added ti
this and the whole apparatus is placed
over the stump. Previous to this flu
soil is dug away from around the
stump and a fire is kindled; then the
cylinder is added, the smoke evolve!
from the pipe and you have a good
working stove, principle complete. The
stump will be burned up as completely
as if it were put in a stove manufac
tured for the purpose. There is mori
profit derived from the destruction oi
stumps than many suppue. More
work can be done in a day in a field
free from stumps, and a larger yield
will also be the result. Spare nothing
to rid yourself of every stump on you)
farm.-American Agriculturist.
To Get Rid of Weeds.
A writer in Farm and Fireside says
“After the wheat and oats are cut u;
comes the ragweed, with other weed:
too numerous to mention, and in 2
short time the stubble fields look like
they had been 'forgotten. On land-
that was rich I have seen a perfeci
forest of ragweed spring up in an in
credibly short time after the wheat
and oats were cut. The only way tt
prevent this is to plough the land soon
after the crop is removed. And thii
can be done by every farmer who is
not trying to farm two or three timer
as much as he can. The ploughing
need not be deep—three inches are suf-
ficient to destroy all weeds that have
started. If the land is to be seeded tc
wfheat again, this early ploughing will
be of the greatest benefit to it, p‘revent-
ing it from baking into rock-like clodi
which neither roller nor plank drag
can pulverize. Stubble land skimmed
over with the plow soon after harvest
can be reploughed deeper afterward
.if desired, and it will crumble nicely
and can be worked down fine without
difficulty. I would advise all farmer:
to plough after harvest, whether ths
land in to be remanded to wheat or 1100'
THE WEEKLY MENU
MONDAY.
Breakfa‘st.—Sliced Tomatoes.
burg Steak. Rolls. Coffee. a
Luncheon.—-Smoked Salmon. Brown.
Bread and Butter. Gooseberry Pie.
Tea.
Dinn'en—Cream of Potato Soup.
Cold Roast Lamb, Sliced Thin. Mashed
Potatoes. String Beans. Tomato and
Lettuce Salad. Peach Shortcake.. Ca.-
fe Noir. ‘
Ham-
TUESDAY.
Breakfast.—Oat.meal, Sugar and
Cream. Oranges. Eggs, Boiled.
Toast. Coffee.
Luncheon.——Lamb Croquettes. French
Fried Potatoes. Wafers. Olives.
Raspberries and Cream. Iced Choco-
late. “
Dinner.—Vegetable Soup. Broiled
Perterhouse Steak. Roast Potatoes.
Cauliflower with Cream Sauce. Wa-
tercress Salad. Pineapple Ice. Cake.
Iced Coffee.
WEDNESDAY.
Breakfast—Raspberries, Sugar and
Cream. Ham and Egg Omelet. Buns.
Coffee. ‘
Luncheon—Meat. Balls. Lettuce Sal-
ad. Bread and Butter. Plums. Waf-
ers. Iced Tea.
Dinner.—Cream of Onion Soup.
Roast Beef. Mashed Potatoes. Spin-
ach. Lettuce and Egg Salad. Cherry,
Souffle. Cafe Noir.
. THURSDAY.
Breakfast.——Hominy, Milk and Su-
gar, Scrambled Eggs with Parsley.
Muflins. Coffee. '
Luncheon.—Cold Roast Beef. To-
mato Ketchup. Creamed Potatoes.
Gooseberry Tarts. Iced Cocoa.
Dinner.—Lamb Stew with Green
Peas. Potatoes. Summer ‘ Squash.
Lettuce and Cucumber Salad. Rasp-
berries with Sugar and Cream. Cake
Coffee. '
FRIDAY.
Breakfast.—Hominy Cakes. Salt
Mackerel broiled. Corn Bread.
Coffee.
Luncheon.—Shredded Codfish with
Cream Sauce. Sliced Ttmatoes.
Bread and Butter. Blackberries.
Cocoa.
Dinner.—'-—Little Neck Clams. Broiled
Bluefish. Mashed Potatoes. Butter.
Beans. Tomatoes stuffed with Green
Peas. Watermelon. Cafe Nolr.
SATURDAY.
Breakfast.—Wheated Milk and Su-
gar. Lamb Chops. Rolls. Coflee.
Luncheon. — Sardines in Brown
Sauce. Bread and Butter. Radishes.
Crackers. Cherries. Iced Tea.
Dinner.——Boiled Ham. Potatoes.
Spinach. String Beans. Tomatoes,
Mayonnaise Dressing. Crackers.
Peaches and Cream. Coffee.
The Retrounle But.
Here is one of the new "Retrousse"
hats, turned up in front. It is of yel-
low coarse straw trimmed with black
wings, aigrettes, and failings of. white
chiffon. Over waived hair, with the
right sort of little nose, it is becoming.
But fancy its effect upon a. Grecian pro-
file!
A white taffeta silk striped with
black makes the gown. The skirt is
the fashionable sheath style, fiounced
.,._,_. ,._
with the equally modish circular fri
Narrow black velvet joins the ruffl
and body, and outlines the lozenge e
fects on the waist. Thread lace, agai
revived, forms the yoke and ja r.
The belt is folded orange satin. Ther
is every prospect that a. gown made i
this fashion will be in good style f
indoor use in cooler months.
Clover Sofa. Pillows.
Sofa. pillows filled with clover to.
are prettiest when covered with whi.
slips made of satine, duck, or line
on which are embroidered clover eith
in an all-over design or in a 100.
bunch. The finish is either a m"
of the material scalloped or hemstitc.
ed with silk of the special shade .
clover that is wrought upon it, 01-
may be a flat hemstitching of the a
tual square. Pillows much affect
by the college girl are of unbleaCh
muslin, the college. initial or insign
embroidered in the centre in a. 1a,.
bold design. and in the proper C01-
The finish ‘is usually a ruffle. he
stitched or buttonholed in the 8a
shade.
Tokay wine is considered the a
sort that should be drunk by nervg
people. It is an excellent nerve 1..
(.i
Norwalk Chronicler