D—apery Shifts From the Old. M the
Front in New Evening Frocks.
MW: in e while s. new feshion
has its origin es s metter of
convenience.
liver since pleited skirts he"
.'.‘—1 worn it ht- been mm‘ of
;rnblem to keep the pleits in
me at the back unless one de~
Al to go through life—or the por-
r: n! life spent in pieited skirts-
.. var-ding position.
a French dressrnnlter im
, 'l the plan of making e skirt thet
'1 lm piaiiml at front and at
i but plain at back. The
- l section took the form of e
generous apron fastened on
- n. foundation skirt thet shoved
at the hack. ’
:nros all around have proved
at {is difficult to msnege as
~-.- that is since we belong to e
that spends so much time
If we went through life
“i tho unylc‘dlnr: rigidity of
Pa ark peoplo then there would
'1” .uncn climculty. But most of
s: whenever there is time end
So the frock with circuler
m vs just across the front was
::':t or and it hes proved effect-
lll"]
0‘
‘Pt!
l'l'.
While we ere still convincing our-
selves thet this front piecing of the
trimming is teeny e feshion end not
merely e fed we beer that in some
of the very newest frocks something
quite different is heppenlng. A
frock sent over from hence showed
circulsr godets pieced only et the
been of the skirt. end it they be that
women will soon tire of tris forwsrd
placing of trimming end just 'rom
the mere desire for novel; we may
be wearing our nounce end our
spoons st the heck in e season or so.
But it never is quite worth while
to look too ferret-eyed into the
future. For the present everything'
in the way of trimming heppens in
front.
A Cloehe end s Geller Are Mede
From s Bit of Plslted Omendie
‘end e Rose.
HF: cloche has become tr; the
milliners whet the straight-
iine one-piece frock has be-
to the dressmekcrs. Their
only fault seems to be that women
have loved them too well. They
have become the uniform of the
well-dressed women everywhere.
The girl of seventeen and the
women of seventy find them becom-
come
,'alf"‘ apart from its usefulness.
....;. syn...
' It
432:.-
L.
i
w.‘
'L Mina [rock of Jade green silk as!
nwr ivory white egg slip. The
fr 3 and the
4 (NWT?! apron in
shoulder cope are of Mellie lace
lyrd in the some shade of are”.
5‘ \‘nw the ides. of m “0.
1' ' front. but at the buck not It Ill.
« writhii the public fency end it
; ro 'lnimed as one of the futures
' me styles of the moment. Men!
‘ "1n new autumn coats hsve fur
deep—only scroes the front:
1 '. :1 rhermin; evening frock shows
"mum-tiered epron of iece ecross
n front extending from s mod-
n“ w‘n‘-.— low waistline to the inst“
r»... tmriy of the frock is of jede
"an. the lace metallic. 0706 Jade
r‘m‘n. Of the lace there is elso e
'oulder caps that extends only
“- :u‘mss the back.
Q
\
\:7- r
O
...un«.. .
u
‘—
M new «sewn.» «in an! «0- 1.. .l .
l
I
N Lee
. l
, "'
ror’ésoot me lei
more with '7“ 0“ ”I. W
jacket and lies as. ’
a
ll \.
‘profiteble to the dressmelrer or the
‘ miiilner.
l
.
‘l
ing—or think they do. This sort of
standerdizstion is of course not
Extremely popular as the streight-
‘ino one-piece frock and the cloche
{rive become they are the favorites
L: that wing of well-dressed womsn~
kind who are most conservative,
’women who supposedly abandon it
fashion when it becomes cheapened
by overpopularity. ‘
So the tasl; of stimulating the
business of making frocks and hats
by tempting Women to buy much
and often is not. as easy as might
be. in France the effort seems to
be to push the large hat for autumn.
e het larze and often high-crowned
needing more difficult and more
elaborate trimming—e less durable
list than the little cloche that could
be worn ell dey long if need be.
Then there is the boat-shaped hat
that already seems to have cautht
the fancy of many well-dressed
women—o hat that is longer from
back to front than from ear to ear—
high of crown and somewhat sug-
gestive of the mode of 1880. The
three-cornered hat. loved by the
milliners, but not universally be-
coming. may be revived.
In the meantime. who knows how
these new offerings will fare? It is
notehly difbcult to persuade Ameri-
can women to wear e large hat in,
sutnmn or 'wlntsr. *Besides we did
not get stsrted with the cloche. at
least with the very small clochc, as
soon as did the French. end we are
therefore less inclined to give it up.
if American women reect. as they
usuelly do, they will continue to
to wear the nerrow-brimmed cloche.
Perhaps then the best course for
the milliner is to make it virtue of
necessity end make cloches as
diverse end tempting as possible.
Plaited orgendie many not seem to
you a prscticsl medium for a. smert
het unless you have seen the
origins! of the little cloche of this
material. trimmed with a pink rose
or two. and worn with e collar of
the plalted orgnndie.
Orgsndle Tern o'Shenters Will Give
Wsy to Velvet Tsms for Autumn.
HEY ere e cross between the
Tens o'Shsnter of the Scottish
highlends end the beret. time-
honored heedgeer of the much
student. But we cell them Toms
for short. .
The-y heve been one of the vivid
things shout. the bets worn et smart
French resorts this summer. it is
unmisteknbiy the psychologicel mo:
ment for the bet of this description
end if snything will ween women
may from their beloved nsrrow-
crowned cloche it will he the tem.
Telbot’s beet—shaped het end the
Hercule version of the .tricorne
sponsored by Cemills Roger ere
thought of es pomible successors
of the close decline. but neither
”.5... to take .m uncy of the
moment es does the tern. The only
denger with this is thst it is so
easily made and so eesily worn that -
it may become lost in the muss of
popularity before it has bed e fsir
introduction to discriniinetlng fever.
Orgendie terns have been edged
little 'Yi'ills of jede green
tesseis—one white end one Jade
green; and there hse..bee‘n mild.
epidemic of isms msde from strips
or ribbon joined. toe-then in
end is worn by .
ewe-om the time they lay ““50
the bonnet- of their held-hurled
mmeflpeoldesd Tibetan.
which hes been mentioned II “I
' coast to be
’;‘
‘r 7'1“” w - -~
E is for Penelope sailing
Sending it far o'er
Fmd three sailors.
dermal bukofhcsd.
a boat... ~ « _ ‘7 '
the billows afloat,
Left Sid: down. under her feet; top side down. along t3 M top 35¢.
“ith
til“. very awful horror
I which our new friend above
nus received in rennin highly
browe'. and rrspcvzrtbic mnrters ‘1
a sure Sign that our «inn: .. lvu‘inr-rx
Willi): swinging it: rmml ‘1 liner.—
waxci te: tho th‘ii‘ITIDJIlln‘ii‘li“. of
name all through thre running win-
ter.
"l‘is ever this with our most pop—
ulzu‘ dittics.
V'v‘hnt. is one person's p'iinfu‘. Per—
ache is POmcono elso's jnyt‘ul thrill.
“‘n'l. tho superior am be
en shorty about whet they like to
flunk :,. our 13.1.: meti- .13 :‘ney please).
Just so long as they are careful not
in outfitter the tonder susceptibili-
ties of those gifted souls who can
set the World a-dnnc‘lng and admin
v.-.th such incomxnmblc delights as
1,, "Y‘l"
"vae-ot- Hortense." "Katie of the
Kows’ned." the “Sunehlno- of Your
Smile." etc. etc, of biesscd' and
haunting memory.
I wouldn't have their divine ama-
tus defined fl-l‘ any: rig—no, not
evcn froc tickets to the opera. each
night of the season or a daily serv-
lro of “'agner and Stravniski.
'l‘op‘notchers. the lot: of 'em. but
not quite .high enough to reach my
heart. anyway. '
C .
And I believe I speak. if humbly
and reverently, on behalf of all the
others who. like myself, are always
in clover when a. new and merry
tune is a-iingiing on the tip of a
penny whistle, and who hold their
breath carefully that they may learn
from the penny whistles of'those
advanced guards of all the best dit-
ties—the errand boy and early milk
boy—the glad news of another tune—
ful favorite.
And we who are so wise don't give
u. bean how nonseneral the'words.
or how darkly coiored their origin.
providing the tune measurably
quickens our simple pulses. and we
find we have no difficulty in fitting
our dance footsteps to its measure.
Besides, the greater the nonsense
the more we like it.
Everyone. save s. serious fool.
Through the
Glad Eyes of
a Woman
By JANE DOE
——-O—--
Copyright, 1928. W
The .‘ichlure Newspaper Syndicate
--—-.O-—-—-
“YES. BUT WE HAVE
NO BANANAS!"
loves nonsovre.
s e e e I
And vcry pertix'ulnrly do we seek
.his spirit of fun anal puclgish fool-
:zxg 2n our songs and dance music.
I‘hey are sort or grown—up nur-
3y rm mos.
As no comfort our children with
th- s‘rnngo mic- ut‘ tho row that
ju'np'd over 22:0 moon. so it strange—
ly mrnforts and oh vi": us to sing of
tho lady Who hadn‘t any money but
picnty of sonse. of the moon shining
on the anshed. of the roses round
our neighbor": dam; of the horrid
Zt-nniy feeling that gun you. when
there isn't it girl about to call you
only. ‘ f.“ ' " i ,‘m'
But. still. don’t think I'm so dippy
about this banana one as all that.
l'm not. I think it's rt very ordi-
nary aubstilute for what we’re gen-
eruily accustomed to curl; year.
0 O O O O.
Can it be. though perish the mis-
erable thought. that. our song writ-
ers are losing their delicate tench,
their hair. their finesse, their nerve?
I. l'm afraid it. must be 50. for what
measure is there on the hand organs
today that can compare with the
tunes of yesteryear?
“'here is the equal of the insem-
parable “Swsnoe.” surely the liveli-
est and most entrancing of all
figures; where the equal of the
never-to-bc—fcrgottcn "in the Shad-
;ows"; what can we sing that pos-
sesses half the magic of "Just a Lit-
tie Love. Just a Littlejiiss." or
“W'hen I Lost You": wut can ep-
proach in charm to t ' “Vamp,”
“You'd Be Surprised." . "Peche
Melba"? " ,
Oh, come now. you song writers.
Last season was almost'e berren
one. and we've even had to carry
"Sweet Hortense" over into this
)‘eal‘s balance sheet.
Another “Bubbles." enother "Gaby
Glide." “Roses in Picntdy.” .
Our penny whistles are already
whetted and tuned up. '
Don‘t disappoint us pisses. We
shell soon be getting fed up with
too meny’banenes. =
The figusehold
GOOD LUXCBEON NEXUS
Tomato Bouillon -
Olives __Strips_og Brovm Breed
— Club Send lice
‘ Iced Chocolsfi.‘
fecehes end Cm
{
Fruit Counted
Omelet )lulns
“*3.sz
fl ' .
. M
Cold Lamb 33¢“
. Breed end Butter widens.
Peach Shot-tests» . ‘
Gales
{3
. ’7‘
e
s
" Love arid Alifiemy
By JESSI E
o
the platform toward her. She
would have known him eny-
where. the way he carried his dark
heed, the humorous glint in his
brown eyes. the sudden smile thet
showed his very white teeth.
She wondered whether she could
evoid him.
"Why, Alice Hey! I haven’t seen
you for e blue moon!" he cried.
dropping his bag end taking “her lit-
tle gloved hand in his. ' .
“A blue moon four years old." she
enswered.
Then she could have bitten out her
tongue for admitting it.
"What ere you doing here?" Billy
Rogers asked with that engaging
wey of his.
"I live here now."
ALICE-ewhimcomingdown
“Oh. yes. You‘re merried. of
course?"
“Yes." she answered; Qrimson
swept over her cheeks.
In that moment she bed covered
Over all the hurt of four years of
remembrance with s. "yes.“ Some-
how she could not heve Billy pity
her. have think theft she still
' my own risk.
DOUGLAS .
sue quickly. "but first I went to
know e31 about you! How's your
work end—end your wife?"
“Oh. my work?" his eyes lighted ‘
up. "I'm going down to Mexico
shortly. Think of it, Alice Hey—the
“venture—putting s. now bridge
across the wilderness. A company's
sending me down there. but it‘s at
I‘m keen about it—”
he stopped. “There. I'm boring you
to death." . '
“And your wife?" Alice persisted.
He stirred his ten rebsently end
forgot to drink it. Alice knew ell
at once that he wasn‘t happy, that
this woman who had married him
was not the women for him. She
hated her in that moment. .
She thought suddenly of her
friendship and Billy's. They had
weikett and skated. danced and
teased each other. They had ex.
changed:books and opinions: Alice
had made chafing-dish suppers and
Billy had brought her ribbon-looped
boxes of candies. Yet strangely
enough they had never versed on
love making. _
ALce knew she could never forget
—us long as she lived-—-the night
Billy had told her he was being sent
remembered. {
"And how is your wife?“ Alice!
‘ ‘§hmk
May asked. lAli Slay: "
“Oh. very well."
abruptly.
Billy answered
He turned to her with his oldE
eager way. 3
“i want to hear all about you.
for the next train.
you wouldn‘t—that
have tea. with me?"
"My—«my husband is vcry broad-
minded. but what about your wife?"
Alice asked quickly.
is. would
'.'Oh my wife heard all about you:
She'd be glad." he answered.
They Walked up the main strcrt
together. Alice hot and cold in turns’
at the monstrosity of the lie she had
told. And yet .1: the moment it had
seemed the only way" to save her
pride. the only “3:: to be on equal?
terms with Ril‘y again.
For she wanted to hear about him.
what he did. what he thought. what
he felt. Surely
loyalty to the woman Billy loved—
his wife—to spend Just two hours‘
with him on their old terms of com-
radeship and understanding.
Alice looked up at him shyly. How}
good he was to look at! She liked
tho serious-nos: of those bmWn eyes.‘
brown ’
the clean—rut mouth. the
cheeks. even the way his hair grew.
He smiled down at he: suddenly.
"Where are you taking me. Alice
May?"
‘ tic-re." she said.
“Here" was a tea. shop with crisp-
ly fresh. dotzen swiss curtains at the
wimbw. and mike? bed pushed
open the door Billy cried. “How
Jolly!” .
it had s wide. white fireplace with
shining andirons. oval rag rugs. a
spinning wheel and round tables with
e not of primroees or wild violets
centering each.
They chose 3 table by the win-
dow. and Alice watched Billy shrug
cut of his coat with that old familiar
gesture and fling. himself down in‘
the settle beside her.
"I believe." he said. with that glint
of humor in his eyes. that you
brought me here because you know
how becoming it was to you!"
It was becoming to Alice. The
neutral colored walls. the pleasant
old-time furniture, seemed to be her
background. She was not enctly
pretty. but something more than
pretty.
"Alice Mas." Billy seid thought-
fully when their text and crumpets
and marmalade had been brought
and Alice poured with that dainty.
precision of hers. “I went to know
all about thet house of yours and
those chubby—checked children!"
She bitmhed egnin.
“Yes. two iumps;.how did yo re-
member? I know you have su my
rooms end than how red stuff beside
the windows—end n pieno overflow-
it would be rm dis-i
to Alaska.
of the adventure of it.
But she had only thought of the
loneliness of it.
She had smiied to him bravely
enough. told him how glad she was
l—until she had seen his train pull
I've got to wait here for two hours:
You c6u2dn't—.
you *
outenf the station. And his letters
that had begun so lengthy had final—
ly stopped altogether. And—then
she had heard he was married.
‘W’hat are you thinking of. Alice
31:11:?” Billy asked, breaking into her
3 thoughts. _
“i‘m thinking." said Alice softly.
”that if you're going to get that
.trun you‘d better begin to go for
415""
it.
”And you haven't told me about
your husband and those tWo kids?"
he sad .7. little wistfully.
““‘ould you really like to know?"
i she asked.
“I'd iii» to know anything about
you." he answered.
1123 voice sent her heart beat hur~
rying. She stood up and gathered
up her gloves. The waitress, coming
lto look for her tip. obseuved with
{gratification that the tip was large-—
and the crumpets untouched.
2 There wasn't any use of pretend-
ing any Tonger. Alice realized how
:wenk she had been to come with
grim. She loved him still. she always
-would. and now she would have to
' begin all over again—to put him out
90f her thoughts.
2 "Helio. Miss Hill.” a little girl
Broiled as they came out of the ten
iroom. "did I pass my exeminetion in
geogrephy?“
"I'll .tell you Monday.” Alice Hill
'enswered.
A furious crimson swept over her
white cheeks.
Billy Rogers stopped still.
"V'i'hst does she mean?
she call you Miss Hill?
teaching?"
"Yes. i em teaching. And I'm not
married. And I never will be—" her
voice caught inas. little sob—“and
now will you let me go. Billy
Rogers?"
He caught her hand end tucked it
into his arm and his voice was some-
thing she could never forget.
"Let you go now that I've found
you again? Do you think I'm crazy,
Alice May Bill? I'm going to tslte
you off with me now—40 Mexico.
We'll be married this eftemoon by
the little preacher in the town where
we used to live—" '
Alice tried to drew her erxn ewey.
“But—your wife?" she whispered.
"My wife and your husband belong
in the same boat. They were both
mule up on the spur of the moment
at least my wife was." ‘
"But are you sure," Alice persisted,
"that you went me?”
"And why. if i didn't, did I stop
off at Hilly Centre on my wey to
Mexico?” '
Why did
Are you still
ing with music, and flowers enm_ But. efter all. it wasn't his words
where—now. heven't you? And two
rosy youngsters in whst-do-you-celi-
'ems!"
“I'll tell you ell shout thet,’ she
'—
_(
_¥
that silenced her. but the kiss he
gave her behind the dreary wetting
room. when she forgot everything
but that she loved him too.
as.
the eerthiin' gs who through
adversity or mean have qund
the hidden mine of happiness.
the sky is ‘ blue. the sun is
slweys shining theroedisel-
weys pies-eat.
They widein the lend thetnows
ems an: end honey. having us.
Something to Think About
The ' Cheerful Side
WW
11: us. stflving to
presence known.
even when we ere on the regged
edge of whet we term utter hope-
lessness. oppressed by e thou-end
tormenting tests and. seemingly lost
to all sense of reeson.
It em hpon as in the nixht
whilewefmtossingendtsrningin
morning
I
' ‘ ‘w _thewuseys
“h-
Ihsscmcefie pal-bu
1...... of Life
DOUGLAS MALLOCH
WHY CHILDREN WANT TO
' GROW.
“'hen ‘Eillren say they went to
grow. °
Then parents always say. "Oh. no.
You‘re a whole iuts happier as you
are."
I‘m: if they havl to walk so far
And reach as much as children do
They'd “fish that th y were bigger,
too.
It‘s not because we want to be
Away from their au:hority.
Not that at all. “'9'“ try to mind
Our mothers goo‘l anin‘athers kind.
But they forget. 'ntves: cv'ry one.
“‘hen they can with we have to run.
\Ve went to grow. and this is why:
The tables all are twice too high.
And twice too far the place you go.
And ev‘rythin; too be. you know.
And that is why lhr‘ cthren small
IVish they were 0.1!)“ strong and all.
Your legs ere long, but ours ere
short
And ev'rythirg of ev‘ry sort
Is Just like ti; it: ani then when we
Get tin-d you my. "M." goodness me,
If you can't “'tlk a. little way
Then right at home you ought to
stey."
To us a hfock is 'most s. mile:
To little children ‘ail the while
The world is much too big; and yet
You old folks ofben will forget
How high the steps. and home how
for——
How little little children In
-——--_—_—
WE NEED BUT WAIT.
The petals fall. the flowers pens.
The leaves are mingled with the
grass.
The winter comes and bring! the
snow!—
And then
rose.
the spring, and then the
The storms arise upon the sees,
But there‘s a harbor after these.
“'hatever wmas our «murse sleet],
A quiet after ev‘ry gate.
We have our sorrow. have our loss:
W's feel the sword, but have the
cm. ’
Our loved one: yield a feeble hath.
But we heve hope as we heve death.
I cannot think of anything
But its own balm win surely bring.
The very wind that whips the foazn
More quickly bears the good ship
home.
I‘m sure for each experience
There is some greater recompense;
And we shall atways find the dawn
Not looking down but looking on.
Beyond the rocks the harbor Ila.
Beyond the earth await the skies.
Beyond tonight tomorrow's sun.
Some recompsnm for ev'ryone.
So let us wet and war}: and prey.
For nfter nigh: will come the any,
Beyond the grave the opening gate;
We need not weep. we need but wait.
To-Day ’3 ml‘
Lucky flower
Br HILDRED MARSHALL
- M RR ET.
WW/nmfiwmmwmummmmmWWI/m
. 4 0.. m... ..
wmnmsemrmfir‘mwrwe .
fill/”MW
I
the garnet. According to en old , -
T'BE talismsnic gem for today is
Hindu belief. those who wear it
will surely have wealth and frienb.
end soother interesting superstition
Mt: it with power to prince! It.
ween-er from ioneiiness and un
lerity. 7
frodtv's netsl stone, the two“
we be worn by those m to
sequins weelth. According to the
film one who ween e W
on her fund. end sees the new moon
on the first night the! it ring in
min to find ununi‘ ted weelth.
Genet. red, the odor d are I”
Norwalk Chronicler