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Tim Long Forgotten Blender Waist
-. vcd in Some of the New
»u..ant skirt with a broad
T ..tl no is at best transitional.
or tvroad waists no more go
on militant hips than whipped
.zmm 300*! with beef steak. If the
.m-i'Tnnt. 1\ ide skirt really arrives.
urn-r :ts long lingering on the
threshold f fishion, it will take
mm itscl.’ n fairly anus waistline.
\Vist'ij.
the designers have not at-
v.-..iptml this silhouette. For women
.1. not jump from one extreme to
thr- otlicr in fashions. as they are
-,'tt‘n accused of doing. Or rather
?' 1-5- take the.r extremes singly. lm-
wrhmt and complete changes come
tl-ul‘. often to the exasperation of
":1! designer. who knows that some
rf the transitional stakes are trying
to the extreme.
.\ year mm a llollffllnl skirt with
‘i tmtiice snug about the waistline
uouid have been out of the picture—
;ihsurd. impossible. “’hen frocks of
this description were worn at the
French races this summer they
were still a trifle absurd, and not
rntirely in the picture, but they
“ere not impossible.
liven the straight-line chemise
frock that will persist in spite of
its long run, seems to be.hugging
more closely at the waistline, There
is a disposition to leave a perfectly
unbroken line at the front. The
gypsy girdle sagging around the hip
seems to have had its best days.
The unbelted, unlirdled frock has a
really good chance of showing
waistline slenderness. '
With the wide~skirted frocks the
lmdicc that fits snugly at the waist
is still long. Skirt gathers almost
never spring directly from just be—
low the waist. but from the end of
the bodice that extends three or
four inches beyond the waistline.
There is then no girdle or belt to
accentuate the waist, which is
merely suggested by the close drap-
ing: of the bodice. .\'o one with an
impartial eye can deny that this new
version of the bout‘fant frock is pre-
ferable to the one that showed a.
perfectly straight updraped bodice
to the hips.
The vogue fnt‘ houffnnt Hkll'tS*-lf
it becomes est.tblishcti»—will call for'
quantities of volvcts, tnffctas.
moircs, For the summer organdie
has been the favorite medium. The
sketch showa white organdie trim-
med with valenciennes lace. show-
ing the rather new snug draping of
the h0dicn_ - '
l'alr‘ndennee lace is the trimminy of
this white ofgandie [rock in which
rim slender waist is emphasised.
The "Ivy Ilue Gene Frock Re-
Usaerlc collar and cuffs trim this
navy blue serge. The tie is of red
and blue polka dots.
Persia. and other warm climes such
accessories would be absurd.
So thank fortune there is some-
thing to be proclaimed as new in
the late summer and autumn mode
that has not come to us from the
East. Moralists who trace the
much talked-about pcrvcrsity of the
day to ()rlcntal influence might take
heart at lllis return of this neat
little accessory—the. washable lin-
zerie collar and cul‘r.
Nav)’ blue. like the lingeric collar
nnd cuff. never. never came into
fashion by \l'fly of the Orient. It is
,as truly Occidental as the navy
uniform from which it was derived.
,Anrl the lingerie collar and Cuff go
hand in hand “ith the navy blue
truck or suit. “'0 tried to wear
Hhs-m without their complement of
white or cream color at the neck-
.
iline, but. honestly. we were not suc-
lcessful. So. while the lingerie collar
{and cuff has bocn out of fashion.
so, too. has navy blue to :1 large
extent,
Already well-dressed women in
Paris—Americans as well as French
li\‘nln('n-~hit\'9 adopted navy blue
gplus white linszcric accessories fol'
street and walking; and there is no
longer a remote chance that the
style wtll not be taken up with real
enthusiasm in this country with
the cumin.r of autumn. The sketch
shows a new nzlvv iviue serge frock
with unusual lingerie collar and
cuffs and :l tic of rod with biu
polka dots.
2:: THE :2:
HOUSEHOLD
Edited by ANNE R'TTBNNOU'B
“ROOMS TO RENT"
of yours was "taking in room-
ers." or had "rooms to rent."
you would Jump to the conclusion
that the maney producer of the fem-
ily had lost his msition. failed in
business, or died. And you would
immediately feel very, very sorry for
this friend. and thonk fortune that
you were not in her position.
Now plenty of people rent rooms
in their houses who are not in the
least hard pressed financially. Pos-
sibly the" loomed how easy it usual-
ONCE if you heard that a friend
ly t'“ - .-.~~ ‘ti- war when in
' it" .v.. I'~~- house
:.\.‘ -_" w, ‘ . matter of m.
l:i-"v. ~i‘cgpu‘
'room
N- v; ".-- l .. I" l. '- the tint
new h(|?l~«‘ In. l u . to no.” of w
commodatlng on :v . i t- is oc.
curred to man may», 131.! P00.
ple. If a room al'i lm'l. .. be so
arranged, so mtv‘. nun, In
- most localities ~. ~- n... the
slightest difli i .. ., or an oc-
cupant for r; . i'. hen you
make plans f. .r house it
turns. Bringing With It a Ooedly
Supply of Fresh Lingerie Collars
and Cuffs.
derived from the Orient we
certainly never. never de-
r.verl the fashion for lingerie col-
lars and cuffs. Sometimes it seems
as if the ()rlentalisation of women s
clothes had progressed to an alarm-
ing extent. Japan. China. Egypt.
lndia. Persia. have contributed so
much by way of decoration. fabric.
texture. silhouett. that it is small
Wonder that women of, the Orient
are adopting so-cnlled Occidental
clothes. -
But the lingerie.collar and cult
is entirely. completely mean.
and relatively modern at that. It is
no more elm-1c orioyen Ago than
it is Chinese or mun. The idea
of the detachable washable cellar
and cult could only be a fashion de-
velopment of a Northern country-
where comfort we warm. Inb-
stantlal clothing. and cleanline- de—
mands something readilpwashsble
next the skin. With the m
easily washod .ewne a! Infill.
o
wllA’rmn else we may M"
w ,5. ..
may be that 3m. .I.‘:- thinking of
borrowing from a building succin-
tlon. paying a certain amount every
month. By investing a little more
of the outset. or making your
monthly payment a. little larger, you
may be able to build a house big
enough for this extra roomer. and
the amount received from the room
will very much more than pay for
the additional amount. Then as your
family and your Income lam
you will have the additional room.
builton thefringesofsomeofthe
large cities with e. muble third
floor, containing two or three rooms
and bath. and a kitchenette equip-
secretory
CHANGING ENiD’S MIND
By DOROTHY DOUGLAS
Wham”, by The Heals" Newepoper Indicate.
the letter he had been reading, and might even—4n“. now, there was
and there was an amused smile that purser chap."
in his eyes. It was addressed to his "I trust this pmr to whom you
sister-inqaw, but: he had been 1‘" are engaged will not be annoyed at
structed to glance through the mail my 113va come to see you." he ven-
end send any important letters on gum
'° 3““ 51““ WM" we end Enid laughed softly.
John‘s brother were spending a few "I would not marry ‘ man who
months. ' was as narrow as that," she told
He re-read the letter, which was him. “No. He will not not mind-—
lined by one Enid Mathews. besides. he is no doubt walking the
deck with some lov_ely girl this very
minute."
She dismissed the subject easily.
Sinclair thought. and continued chat-
ting. “Now tell me all about Mr.
and Mrs. Sinclair. She and I prom-
ised to become such good friends.
but I—well, I am such a sad-about
that it is dialcult to claim these rare
friendships."
Sinclair had arrived at Enid's at
halbpast four and it was eleven-
thirty when he bade her good night
at the door.
They had had their tea and chat-
ted at the fireside. Sinclair had sug-
gested a bite outside and EnidIhad
accepted with flattering smiles.
He stopped to buy the violets and
his heart thu‘xruwd absurdly “as she
nested them against the gray fox
fur at her throat.
After a light supper he suggested
one of the delightful concerts for
which London Sundays are famous,
and again he heard nothing save the
'soft breathing and occasional low
murmur of Enid's voice. After that
he found a. taxi and told the driver
not to hurry as he drove them home
through the park.
"I ha never “eyed a Sunday so
much i all my life." Enid told him.
when in the shade of her doorway
her hand lingered in his.
“Shall I come again?" he asked a.
trifle unsteadily.
JOHN SINCLAIR looked up fromtmight have known her seven years.
"My Dear Mrs. Sinclair—Are
you by any happy chance the Mrs.
Sinclair whom I had the pleasure
of meeting. during the first year
of the war, at Bournemouth? If
so. I should very much like'to re-
new our acquaintance. .
“It has been most difficult to re-
tain friends while sailing back and
forth across the ocean. as much as
I have wanted to, but now I am
settled in a cozy London flat, and
hope you will céme and have tea
with me, Sunday—you and Mr.
Sinclair.
"I have taken up my life here.
and have made up my mind to
marry an Englishman. a purser on
one of the big liners. I have al-
ways wanted to locate in London.
and to be ‘not too terribly tied
down by marriage. and the idea.
of having half the time all to my-
self and half to my husband will
be Just ideal.
"I think it .must be a bit of a.
trial to have a. husband about all
the time. In the meantime do
come in Sunday, I am desperately
lonesome in this big London. “'ill
Just look for you as my telephone
is not as yet in.
Sincerely yours.
ENID MATHE“‘S.
n
' "Cheery matrimonll ocean for
that poor purser to sail on, I should. Enid drew in :1 swift breath. "If
my." mused John Sinclair. "Looksiyou want, to-3'es." she said. And
almost as if he were being marriedishe darted into the house leaving
because of his absence. and for agfiinclnir in utter gloom.
home in London. However, frank-i It was “'cdnssday before he sent
ness is a. very desirable characterls- : her the big basket of spring flowers
tic, and bliss MutileWs seems to have i and Friday before he ventured to
a. good supply." lcall and see if she would take in a
He thought over the matter foritheater with him.
some time and then decided to calli “'hf‘n HWY tame out» from the
on the young lady himself. Since theater Sinclair wanted her to have
she was desperately lonely she might some supper. itill she insisted on
welcome him as tea guest in place taking him hour with her. where
of Helen and Ned. Anyway, he- the maid served dainty refreshments.
would risk it. There were light laughter and smiles
London was. after all. a bit of npmd a great deli of happiness. but
frost if one happcned to be wanting . Sinclair knew t‘.:. t he must not sec
human companionship. Besides, John Enid again. It was not fair to that
Sinclair had :1 growmg curiosity toipursu-r nor to himself. Already—
meot this independent type of girl~izlnd he had seen her but twice—~she
I
there was alivays something breezy . was the most wonderful thing in the
about an individual personality. World for him. It was torment to
He had not changed his mind when contemplate the return of the man
Sunday afternoon arrived. and was j to whom she was betrothed. .
about to dress in his usual careless‘ He arose abruptly to say good-bye.
tweeds when he suddenly decided on "I am not going to see you any
his topper and black coat. He even more." he said. and was unconscious
stopped while crossing l'iccadily, to i that in the tensity of his grip he was
select a few fragrant English violets I hurting her two hands.
for his lapel. - Enid turned a bit white. "But—
Sinclalr was glad afterward thattbu‘t why?" she questioned wistfully.
he had dikarded the tweeds. He "Because l love you. love every
would have felt very much out ofihrcoth of you. and I can't stand it
the picture in such attire. ito know that you are engaged to
Enid's flat was exquisite. He had ”mother man."
A moment's swift survey of it before; "But I'm not. engaged." Enid fal-
she herself came in. Sinclair hoped ‘ tercd, very near to tears.
his expression was not too satisfied. “Your letter?"
and that the unexpected rush of ad- 1 “I said I had made up my mind to
rniratlon was not too marked. marry some one, but I hadn't told
Enid paused on the threshold. him as yet. He has been wanting
There was questioning in her lovely me—"
eyes. "He will have to want." said John
“You are not Mr. Edward Sin- . Sinclair. "for there is no man could
clalr—" she said. lever want you as I do. And I won't
Sinclair apologized. the any half-time husband, and if it's
“No. I happen to be his hrother.'a bit of a trial having a husband
I read your letter and~" Enid ; hanging about all the the time—"
smiled now and came forward withil Enid blushed. but the eyes she
outstretched hand, “I am glad you . turned to him were sweetly serious.
came—it was good of you." She "I had not known the slightest
sank comfortable into the big chair meaning of love when I wrote those
beside Sinclair and he wished he had . silly words."
brought more 'vlolets. and also hei "And now?" demanded Sinclair.
condemned his brother for not hav-: Enid laughed softly. "I have
ing told him about this girl. He ' changed my mind." she said.
[Dm‘Ms-Dmma ugebtsnet.
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-Andslleioobhhermimrwithcvidsu ,
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HERE isn't any girl I feel sor-
rier for than the one who h"
got herself badly tangled up in
some unfortunate love-affair.
And by unfortunate 1 mean illicit.
Love's back door,
That‘s the only way to describe it.
Love skulking in the shadows,
wrapped in miserable deceit and
subterfuge. Love ashamed to show
its face. '
Many a. letter I get from time to
time telling a sad tale of this sort.
One hints at an intrigue with a
friend's—"a best friend's" husband;
another tells me the secret of a
young married woman's discontent;
others reveal love affairs (save the
mark!) the course of which is so
depressing and uninspiring that the
mystery to me is that the principals
in them are content to carry on
with such a shoddy business.
After all the main idea of love is
happiness and content.
And when true love, love which
has need to hide its face, brings
misery in its train. that is bad
enough.
But what, I repeatedly ask my
correspondents who tell me of bad.
mad troubles of this sorry sort. is
the use of loving your best friend's
husband. or your husband's brother.
or engaging in any serious flirtation
that needs to he kept hushed up. if
you don't get any happiness out of
it?
Rang
Glad Eyes of -
f
the
a Woman
By JANE 00!
___°.__
CM“ an. .I
The Realm Newspaper W
—O—
LOVESIMmR.Dooa
as miserable as I don‘t know who:
if yOu are so foolish as to get our-
self mixed up in a. love affair you
have to keep quiet about.
Love is something you ought not
to have to keep under cover. Hid-
ing love is dangerous. Dangerous to
love. It can only thrive in the open.
It can only sweeten when it is above
board. ’
You can prove this by reading
through any week's news. Man is
not a secretive animal. When he
loves—loves well. that le—he like.
to tell the world. So does woman.
He only keeps silent about what
he is ashamed and frightened for.
Perhaps you can't. control your
love for your best friend's husband.
Perhaps you can't help getting
crazy about your husband’s brother.
But. you can control your actions.
You can help yourself from behav-
ing crazily, madly and badly.
It's hard luck to love where you
must not. It is sad to sigh for
other's possessions.
That is just a little cross some of
us have to hear now and again.
Others bear it well. Why don't you?
This sort of wild infatuation will
blow over. And the less it has to
feed on, the quicker. Then. one day
you will be giggling at yourself for
a fool.
[ “'hich will be all right.
The great thing is not to do any-
thing now which will make you 81!-
)Ilnd you. not for a moment am
I sugges ’ i: that happin’ess makes
these a airs more justifiable. But
it does certainly make them more
understandable. doesn't it?
But. this is only is wondering aside
on my part.
As a matter of fact. a love which
has to creep in at the back door
never hrinzs anyone much happi‘
ncss. or for long.
Make up your mind to that.
If you are a decent sort you'll be
.sle at the wrong side of your face
' later.
L It‘s horrible how these things
stick. It‘s amazing how one poisoned
Hove affair can taint the whole of
'your days to come.
Don‘t give it a chance.
Stifie it, choke it down.
to yourself:
"If I can't have love wisely. I‘ll not
have it unwisely. A clean slate of
love for me. or nothing."
That's the spirit.
and say
SOmething i0 fhinkAbout
Scatter Kind Words
ByF.A.
highways and byways, all the
kind words that you can com7
mud.
Scatter them as the sower scatters
the golden grains of wheat. and
leave the rcsult to the souls on
which they may fall. Some of them
FLING out, as you go along the
will be sure to take root and multi-.
ply a thousand-fold.
Sink your pride and passion and
let your pleasant. checring words
float out. upon the pissing breezes.
To someone who is athirst they will
come as the gentle rzliii‘, cooling and!
soothing his or her parched heart.
Coarscncss of speech often stings
like a scorpion. lcaving pain and
anguish behind that is never wholly
forgotten.
The gruff words. the slang and the
vulgar verbiage that creep stealthily
into our conversation from day to
day. have much to do with our social
standing, usefulness and our success
in life.
Contrast, the softly modulated
speech with the discordant. and you
will perceive the difference in the
twinkling of an eye.
Even a dog soon learns to shun
the loud-spoken person given to the
use of ill-chosen language and stinks
WALKER
Tawny to a quiet corner, where he
inlay curl up his body and rest in
|I peace.
. A child will cry and sob from the
vlash of an ungovernable tongue.
rowed by an inexpressible fear.
jwhich manifests itself for days and
Edays. and which sometimes never
'fudes entirely from his or her
memory.
i 15eg words are desperate pilots
E who send their ships upon the rocks
;in calm. sunny weather. then won-
ider in their coolness at. the awful-
'ness of their plight.
1 One might as well try to hate out
tthe ocean as to attempt to so
: through life arm in arm with an ill-
;chnsen vocabulary. which at every
, hour cuts sensitive souls to the quick
;and arouses disrespect and enmity.
; Most of the troubles of the world,
,most of the misunderstandings be-
itwecn men and nations. most of the
:dlvorces, and most of the unhappi-
iness of humanity can be traced to
lthe use of indiscriminate words
gwhlch. by a little forethought and
inatlence, might have been avoided.
ilt’ords being the only vehicles we
ihumans have to go and come on. it
iis imperative that we should know
how to use them. and especially how
to use those laden with blessings.
'THE HOUSEHOLD
. AT TEA TIME
" 013 may have heard the woman
I
Y with three or four servants
make the complaint that she
cannot serve afternoon tea. because
she is afraid of the protests But her
rervants. Still you know other
women with one or no servant who
never fails to serve the restful cup
when you call upon her in the after-
noon. If you plan your equipment
wisely. tea-making may be made
very easy. Moreover, many a’ meld
would be quite willing to set forth a
simple tea tray any day if it meant
that. she might have her tea. in the
kitchen at the sametime. For the
houseworker is quite as subject to
the mldsfternoon fagiin strength as
you, an Eusually just as sensitive to ‘
the rev
one else.
But whether you make your own
tenoraskyourmaidtodoit you
should have it a. simple utter. If
you have tea regularly. or may
Umuaweehitlsagoodplanto
hanaspeclaleetofteacupsnnd
other dishes set aside for it. These
ing power. of tea as any
I
ii
Lyrics of Life _
By
DOUGLAS MAILOCl-l
IF HE sensuous.
I know how men will praise him.
know
How great the honors he will bear;
Still bu boy. I see the glow
Of many laurels he will wear.
For evermore before his eyes
Straight down his path a. beacon
gleams:
I know the height he will arise,
If he remembers mother's dreams.
I know how men will come to him
In quest of counsel in their need:
The way of life is often dim.
- And feet will stumble. hearts will
bleed.
But he will wisely speak and well.
A shepherd heart to countless
herds.
Yes. he eternal truth will tell.
If he remembers mother's words.
I know how other men will find
In him example, seek to be
As clean in heart. as pure in mind.
Of equal faith and honesty.
He shall have strength when men
are week.
And consolation in his cares.
Know where to turn and where to
seek,
If he remembers mother's pray‘rs.
I know—yes, even should he fall.
Should ever stumble into sin.
Temptation lure him. after all.
I know the height he yet will win.
One thought will save him. one that
can:
He will rebuild his wasted years—
One thought will make him yet a
man,
If he remembers mother's tears.
KEEPING THE COMING.
A wonderful start is a wonderful
thing,
Your heart full of hope and your
head full of schemes:
But, oh. it is easy to laugh and to sing
“'hen just setting out for the
land of your dreams.
Good s ters are many, good finish-
e few:
Though fortune may follow, good
luck may attend,
“'hen day": at' the dawning
silver the dew,
It’s keeping them coming thnt
counts in the end.
and
And ore for the smelter, or log: for
the saw. '
0r cars for the shipper. or steel
for the mill.
0r sales o'er the counter. or grain
for the straw.
Whatever it is, we can win If we
will.
It isn't production) day or a week.
It isn't the size of the order you
send;
Whatever our labor, whatever we
seek. '
It's keeping them coming that
counts in the end.
Notargetishitbyanashinthe
pan. ‘
No race ever won by a spurt at
the start—
It's playing the woman and playing
the man,
It‘s steady of purpme and sturdy
of heart.
Wintever the world is expectlng of
you,
What matters a this: Can it
safely depend , -
0n the things that you make. on the
tasks that you dol—
It'e keeping them coming that
counts in the end.
i
ii!
U"
i
!
i
e
V
.
—.--..... m
V’Wtwil mi’JM‘O
menses-mm” u...
. .. "m
Norwalk Chronicler