v.
"es.
_ on activism.
seem sonwamr. Al‘th. an.
HOUSEHOLD MATTERS.
l‘o Reatom Whiter-om to Flannelo.
When flannel has become yellow by
age, it may be restored to whiteness bv
the use of a solution of twentydou’r
ounces of Marseilles soap in fifty , node
of soft water, to which is adde two
thirds of an ounce of spirit of anti
ammonia, and the whole. thoroug lv
mixed: Immerse the flannel, stir some
well then rinse in pure water.
flow to Clean Wallpaper. 7
Take off ,flte dust with a soft cloth.
With a little flour and water make a
lump of very stiff dough, and rub the
wall gently downt 'ard, taking the. length
of the arm at each stroke; and in this way
go around the room. As the dough
becomes dirty cut the solid part off. lit
the second round commence the stroke a
little. above where the last one ended, and
bt' very careful not to cross the paper or
go up again. Ordinary paper cleaned tu
this way will look fresh and bright, and
almost as good as new. Sonic papers,
however-and these most expensive ones
~~will not clean nicely; and in order to
ascertain whether a paper can be cleaned.
it is best to try it in some obscure corner,
which will not be noticed if the result is
unsatisfactory. If there be any brokett
places in the wall, fill them tip with a
mixture of equal parts of plaster of Paris
and silver sand. made into a paste with
a little water; then cotcr the place with
a little piece of paper like the rest, if it
can be had. '
—, Recipes. ,
Taemcx ("incur Pt'iuoixo. wfioak two
tablespoonftils of tapioca in half a pitit of
mid: over night. In the morning beat
the yolks of three egos very light and
mix them with the tapioca and half a cup
of sugar; stir into one quart of boiling
milk and boil for live minutes. Flavor
u ith lemon or vanilla, and when cool put
the whites of the eggs. beaten to a froth,
(in the top. ‘
Dnv lint-1m I-‘tit'rrr-zns.—Two cups of
dry, tine bread crumbs, two tablespoon-
fuls prepared flour, half a pint or rather
has of milk, four well-beaten eggs, lialfa
cu l'ul of sugar, a tablespoouftil of buttrr
an’ a few currants. 'Iioil»._tlie. milk and
pour over the bread, ltlredge the currants
with flour and tnix lllbxllllu a stiff batter.
llrop into hot lard as ddugltnuts and send
to table in powdered sugar.
llten PCBDISH “'t'rnottr Boos. ----- Two
:ptarts of milk, one-half teacupful of rice,
| litxle less than a ti-actipful of sugar, the
same quantity of raisins, 'n teaspoonful of
cinnamon or allspice; wash the rice and
pit it with the rest of the. ingredients
arm the milk.
two to three. hours; stir two or three times
the first. hour of baking. If properly
done. this nuddiua is delicious.
t.
Fle‘ASsER , or Morrow—Cut two
pounds of the breast of mutton into inch
cubes; dredge with salt, pepper and
flour; brown in a tablespoouful of but.
fer or the fat of the mutton. Put them
in a stew pan with a sliced onion, cover
with boiling water and simmer until the
bones all 1 out; skim off the fat, and when
the veal is tender add a quart of peas and
simmer fifteen minutes. A pint of boiled
macaroni or asparagus tips may be used
in place of the'peas. '
Finer) CEI.ERY.'~'\V33T\ and trim two
heads of celery. out. off ends. leaving the
white part about eight inches long;
divide each head into four, lengthwise,
and of into a saucepan of cold water to
which has been added the juice of half a
small lemon ., this prevents the celery
' from turning black: put iti a small ten.
spoonful of salt, boil slowly until soft;
take tip carefully. Hitting it on a sieve
to drain. Then ta 'c. three tablespoon-
!uls of brown flower, a little salt and
pepper,‘ one faith-spoonful of salad oil,
the yolk of one egg. enough cold water
to mix a thick batter. The white of the
tgg must be whipped to a stiff frotlt‘and
stirred lightly into the batter. Dip the
pieces of celery into the batter. letting it
cover them well, and drop gently into
smoking hot oil; there should be enough
to cover them; fry to a light brown.
- .......__.__,_.____
Customs of Sunny Spain.
W you go to a lady‘s house they-c
are terrible ceremonies to be gone
through. \Yheu you rise to leave you
are bound to say: “My lady, I place
titysclf at your feet.“ Then the lady
says: “I kiss yotir hand, sir. May you
depart with God, and continue well".
Then you have to answer to that: “May
you remain with (lodff And so you go,
you but being handed to you as if it
we a new born baby. The salutations
and greetings and farewells among the
intuition people are many of them ver
poetical. W tea I left myzjjrst Spirals
bowl, the waiter and the chamberinaid
came out with the landlord to see us
off. Albert Edward and I laid ourselves
figuratively at the chanibermaid‘s feet,
we invoked all the blessings of heaven
Men the landlord‘s head, and in accord
ante with Spanish etiquette, we 6L
pressed it hope that the waiter might re
main with God. The group returned our
adieux, and the little eliambertnaid made
us a sweet reverence in the Andalusian
manner (shewa of Seville, was our
. K
. r
chica}, and said, “Goodby, your lord- .
ships} may we all meet again some day 3
New, Ithink that :
“t‘hica” f
in God‘s big parlor.“
was very prettyodon‘t you?
means swdtheart. —— Ito/bins.
"and: to have in the House.
.L veritable boon to harassed house
keepers has been discovered. . This lathe
"‘Witch‘s Ladder,“ “charm of marvellous
power,“ says Walford‘s Antiquarian,
from which we take the following trust-
worthy directions for its manufacture:
“Take fourwheaten straws, tie two to-
gether, top and bottom, for one side of ,
the ladder. Tie the other two in tho
same manner. and, then insert short-
straws between for steps. Now take
small feathers and plate them up each
side of the ladder. and the thing is done. 5
Now, if ought go wrong, if tire. will not
burn, nor‘irons heat, let the ladderbo
waved to and fro in the air, while the
request is muttered, and all will be
right.“ 7. ,
Doctors at the English Court.
I saw a list of the household of Queen
Victoria the other day, and I am aston‘
ished that she has lived to celebrate her
'jubilce. She has three physicians in
ordinary, five physicians extraordnmry,
two sergeant an ~ons, three surgeon:
extraordinary, a ys‘ician to the homo
hold, asurgeon itto, a surgeon apathe-
, tire surgeons and apothocartes at
Windsor and two at flslmrne. a surge»)
mull-st, a surgeon dentist, a dentist to
the household and two chemists and
drumstwwl’imm’t Chronicle.
Bake rather slowly from ,
7 IF I HAD KNOWN.
—.~.
_ , .Ilny‘ with lilllco on her pulsation breast.
Dim, woodland lilies wet with silver dew,
“Dear heart,“ be said, ‘ ‘in life sho loved them
best!
For her sweet make the fragrant buds were
I blown.
Io: her in April~haunted nooks they grow—
. . . 0h, love, it I had known!
"If I had known, when yesterday we walked,
i Her hand in mine, along the hedges fair,
That even than the while we carom-u: talked,
The shadow of a coming loss was there,
And death‘s cold hand was leading us apart—
If I had known the bird she would not wear
[or touch, lest she should mar that perfect
grace.
To-day would press its dewy', golden heart
Against her poor, dead facet
“last year, when April “'tVOKlS were all
afilow,“ >
She aid, “if it be death to fall asleep."
And, bending, kissed the lilies sweet. and wet.
. “A dreainlcss sleep from which none wake
: to weep—s
When I lie down to that long slumber, dear,
And life for you has dark and empty
grown,
Come to me then, and though I shall not
hear,
low:
{If I had known: Oh, love. if I had known?)
That you would not forget.“ '
~.l<felm'de I). Rollstoa, in The Current.
—~ “+—
o , ‘-
The Gonvrct S‘- Daughter.
In the year l‘lvi ,
‘0? San Fl‘iillt‘is‘t'u,
.lohn Harlow started
l‘aL, on a tour of
recreation from a long course of legal
Itudy. Nothing of special note occurred
to relieve the tediousncss of his jouruev;
he arrived at his destination much Slltll'
fared and fatigued. Immediate rest was
heeded, SUrllt‘ sought a boarding house iii
a dull, quiet part of the city,and for some
days enjoyed the seclusion and rest he
Itood so much in need of. _llis meals were
brought to his room,aud therefore he had
no opportunity to make the acquaintance
of his fellow-boarders. The. house was
run by a niatronly~looking woman named
“'entworth, whose only weakness secured
to be her volublc tongue. However, she
quality of her menu. and, as this is the
paramount oliject sought for in a board-
ing—house, whatever f tiblcs she possessed
In the eyes of llt‘I‘ tenants were graciously
overlooked.
Her daughter, a comely young: girl of
seventeen years, assisted her in the.
household duties and at evening usually
entertained the house with pleasing
music on' the piano. tltie evening as
Harlow was enjoying a fnigrant
Havanain his room, and nursing rctro-
Ipectively over old scenes and faces, the
loft plaintive strains of a delicate but
musical voice seemed to emanate from
the parlor-below. There was something:
in the tone of the voice that told him In-
had never heard it there before. The air
Ipuke volumes of sadness and breathed
Inch pathos and distress that he tttrttcd
involuntarily in his chair, and noticing in
the mirror at the other side of the room
what a changeait had wrought in‘ his
‘ieaturcs, heiittnped up suddenly and was
Ibout to shut out the ,voice» from his
hearing, when it suddenly stopped. The
nusic. had piqued his curiositv. He
would know the. owner of. that piitlrctic
Voice. .
The chatting of two women below told
him that some lady friend of Bertha»
Mm. Wentworth‘s daughter ~~was prob
ably paying her. a friendly \‘isll. lle
arouood lliunoolf broadly and rcpatred to
the parlor, “here, under the pretextbf
wishing to be called early in the morning.
he had opportunity of speaking to, Bertha.
She seemed pleased to be of service to
him and invited him in. The Rubicon
panned, he was soon engaged in delecta-
le conversation with t‘ora Lane, to whom
he had been introduced by Bertha.
was the fairest. There was an air of
melancholy sull‘using the entire features
\hat seemed in kcepiuo‘ with the sad, blue
0 es, the expression of which completely
armed him. Something indrtiual-lc in
her sweet, gentle manner, felt its wav
deeply into his breast and caused it to
beat with rupture: Ile could have sat for
hours and contemplated her lovely face,
so great was his infatuation.
That night as he lay on his couclmvifh
the picture of one fair fan: engrossing his
every thought, he felt, he knew, that
Cora Lane was the only woman he would
ever love. It was late the next morning
when he arose, despite the fact that
Bertha had done his bidding.
His first impulse was to rush to her and
learn all she knew of ('Oltl. but better
judgment prevailed. Ile concluded to
aSt-ertain through quiet inquiries all he
’gcould about his DOvafllllltl love. Bertha.
however, anticipated ltim.. She saw,with
a woman‘s.quickness, the profound look
of admiration on his visage as he sat gar.—
ing at her friend the night previousjand
intuitively surinising that he wished to
, know sorriething of her friend. told him
of her own accord all that she knew.
“t‘ora was employed as salesladv in a
niilliuery establishment. the was tiv'entv
years old, was supposed to be an orphan,
and came originally from the East.“
This was all Bertha knew of her, al~
thoughslze dwelt eloquently on her atni«
able manners and goodness of heart.
Every night for two weeks llarlow saw
his love safely home, bttt not as an 95.
cort. He could not nerve himself to meet
those great blue eyes. for he felt that the
venture would lead hint to a pasiouate
avowal of the love that was surging.r
against his heart liken vast. billow. No,
he must strive to beat down the vehement
{attachment that was afntost consuming
. him and let time shape his fortunes.
Harlow had passed two evenings at the
! house of Corn, and each time he set eyes
_ on her some newborn charm revealed it—
f self to his enamored vision. A certain
1 air of constant reserve in her demeanor
; awed down all efforts on his part to di»
. vulge the dictates of his heart. If the
i mellow gaze that wreathed her face at
times conveyed to his mind the looks of
reciprocal affection, its relaxation into a
moody, it thctic stare dispelled the fe~
lioitous t ought. Still, his manner and
_ conversation appeared to please and en-
tertain-her. and at times, she grew elo-
. quent in her responses.
One gentle moonlight evening, when
the stats studded the vaulted heaven
with iinwonted brilliancy and bracing
breezes stole softly through the trees and
flowers, bringing with them the in-
vigomting influences of a balmy evening
in May. Harlow nnbmsomed his heart to
her. He told her in impassioned tones
of his adoration; how life without her
would be a dismal blank; how he had
watched her night after night, and felt
happy to know that he was close to the
woman whomhe loved; how eagerly he
had looked forward to the time when he
could tell her all. She listened demure~
ly, with down st eyes, but uttered not
award. Tha she did not remonstrate
with him reconciled him to the belief that
the affection was mutual. At last ahe
6 kc and her melodious voice thrilled
h with delight.
. . . . t
Lay your set lips to mine, and whisper:
She told him she dearly loved him,
loved him for his kindness to her; that
ever since she first saw him his image
was indissolubly mingled with her day-
dreams; every moment in his presence
scented an hour of happiness to her.
These endearing words threw off. the
restraint he had sustained, and in the
ardency of his fondness he drew her to
his side, and repeatedly kissed the pale,
upturned lips.
.“t‘ora, you will be my wife," he said,
looking down upon her with unspeak~
able joy, as if the answer he sought was
already his,
She drew herself gently from his em-
bran: and the gaze in her lovely eyes
appeared to pass over him to space bc~
youd. She spoke as if in a dream.
“That can never be,“ she uttered, at
the. same time throwing her arms about
hint and sobbing bitterly, as if in deep
anguish.
strange. anomaly to him.
conjectures
moment.
filled his brain
Could she not be his wife 3
“Don‘t. ask me why, John.
Ill“ l‘l‘.
tress to our home."
“(‘ora, dearest, I will forgive everything.
mine.“
: to scorn.
i
told Ilarlow that his love was hopeless.
‘ :iuy ulic on earth.
l-‘or
room. "is sprightly. gay spirits vanished,
and long fits of dejection supervencd.
it. He ilendcd an attack
his ntoodiness.
desire to see his love aeain
itself.
and went to her house.
\Vltcn lie criten‘d.- to
l‘l‘fLK‘v‘ Fl 0
city.
I‘t‘t‘lllNl.
envelope. The note read as follows;
“In three years. Conn."
in fire. He was mystified bc‘
yond reason. The thought, “\Vas she
trifling with his aflectioua:“ tooktlie
place of all other considerations. But
wlt‘ere was the motive? The more he
cogitatcd over the short note the more
he clothed it \\ ith an Ot‘t‘llll nicaning.’
IIe-left the house, re wired to his
room. and in the wreck of ii: life‘s hap-
piness wept poignant tears of woe.
The Occidcnt had no more charms for
him; he determined to return East in the
Course of a fortnight.
He left San Francisco an altered man
‘whole life.
finished his law studies and entered upl '
Of in fair faces he had ever seen here »
l
i
I
i him she might be dead. Mrs. \Ventworth
l and her daughter told the same despair—
nnd returned to his home, but the
thought of (bra, ever present
mind, dri-w a veil of Sfltlneam over- his
Some months afterward lie
: on his chosen profession.
At the end of three years his life was
just as void of hlppincss as the day
when t‘ora told him it could never be.
-lle resolved at last to once again visit
if possible, her
the. West and learn,
whereabouts.
When he arrived at San Francisco he
called at the house where he had last seen ;
her; she had never been heard from. and
as far as the good lady could enlighten
ingstory ~shc had almost dropped from
their memory.
The one great object of life now was
to fitid her and learn from her own lips
the int-ailing~ of .thosc odd
’ lltr‘cc )ch‘S‘. "
If’be failed, alas? he dared not con~
template the ct luscquenccs.
would. if it t-mk years of constant search.
Such is the but} of sortie men. who in
ncss for the sake of one mortal. Not a
search for her, but to no avail.
hope as regards her whereabouts. But
he found her at last —«found her a new
woman, even lovelier than he had ever
seen her. ,
What stninge, impelling influence led
him to visit San Quentin he will never
know. Was it a mere whim, a fancy, or
was it the hand of fate striving to make
amends for past dlfifi‘tllrft‘sllifif
San Quentin is a small town, situated
on the bay of San Francisco. It took him
but a short time to ascertain that there
was nothing there to interest his attens
tion. But stay—dire State‘s prison is lo.
cated in this small village. Another train
did not arrive for two hours; why not
pass the the time there?
It was the extravagant desire. of a
morbid temperament. He had no idea
that the sights there would interest him
any more. than the commonplace realities
of the village itself.
He repaired to the prison. The warden
was very kind and urbane—he could go
through the prison if he so desired. An
usher who escorted him through the dif~
ferent departments explained every point
in the workings of the place, but he
listened indifferently;he felt that not one.
,of the hardened criminals he passed by
could ,be more chopfallen than be. In
going oiit he had to pass by a waiting~
room. He casually looked through a
hole in the panel of the door that opened
into that room. In that room a sight met
his gate the effect of which almost froze
his blood. ‘
“'as it. Cora‘s face he saw, or was it-
the phantom of his level
To assure himself he peered again; the
truth was very patent. Her arms were
entwined around a tall, manly form, but
he could not see the face. as the back
was turned toward him. The usher,
noticing his wild, fixed gaze, drew him
to one side and asked hint if he was
sick.
A glass of water was all that" he re-
gained, as he sat or rather fell into a
ir. Hotnldthomantlmt it was an
attack of the vertigo; it would . soon be
over. He felt as though his reason was
fut. leaving him; Strange phantasieo shot
through his brain.
That Cora loved another, and that
person a convicted felon, was his first
deduction. The terrible truth sank into
his soul like a poisoned shaft. Aeraving
for revenge onsthe man he had just seen
all but controlled him.
That. man should never live
the happiness that should be his.
To be refused by a woman who had
just avowed herselfin love scented a
A hundred
at that
Was her heart preocuppiedi
Was there a titan on earth who lll ored
(‘ora Laue more titan he did? Why
It is
better for us if we see eiielr.otlier no
Forgive me if I make you un~
'happy, but it can never be; to be your
wife would only bring sorrow and dis-
Ilcr cnigtnatical words puzzled him. -_
We will start life ancw;blot the past,
from your sight; only say you will be,
She. strove to answer, but the profound
anguish in llt'l‘ bosom mocked all efforts
The look of melancholy sad-
ness that ovci‘spi‘ead her entire features
When he left that night with the arrow
of (lccp disappointment sunk deep into
‘his breast she exacted a vow from him
j, never again to broach the subject of
: matrimony : but he left her with the sorry
-_ assurance that she loved him better than
a week Ilarlow never left his
If llertha suspected the cause of the
change in his appearance she never be-l
, frayed
. . of
Itoncd somewhat for llll‘ tn the excellent '
malaria, to \\ hich to said he wasa victim;
tltis was all he offered in explanation of
At the end of his lieritiitage a longing
Ile tore himself from his seclusion
his bewildered
1? consternation he learned she had left the
A note was handed him by the lady of
the house. \\ liicli she gnu: him at t‘ora‘s
llc trn-ttibliugly tore open the
Every one of those words seemed as if
. written
in his
words: “In
Find her be
their constancy sacrifice years of happi-
stout-was left unturned in his untiring
' No one
could be found to give him one ray of
‘ to enjoy,
The usher in his dismay was aboutto
about for help, thinkin he was
witha mad‘rnan, when arlow suddenly
sprgsg to his side and hoarsely whis—
“Who is that.man in‘the other rooml‘f
The latter seeing that his companion
had subsided somewhat in his wildness,
deigned to reply.
It was John Lane. who was about to be
discharged from prison. He had been
convicted of forgery and had served a
fifteen years‘ sentence. The woman was
his daughter. This was all he knew.
The sudden revulsion in Harlow‘s feel~
ings stunned him; he reeled and would
have fallen had not the usher caught him
in time; then reason again found its way
to the brain. lle slipped a ld coin
into the hand of the usher an left the
ison. 1
He sought a tree near by. whose large.
drooping branches afforded a good en-
sconcement, and, throwing himself on the
greengrasses. began to rurnittnte over the
exciting circumstances which had just
taken place.
That, indeed, was one of the happiest
moments of his life. His heart never
heat so lightly before.
The words “noble, grand girl,“ es~
coped his lips in the delirium of his de«
flight. Ah! now he knew the reason of
her magnanirnous sacrifice; of her re-
ftisal to accept the hand of the man she
E loved. The filial love was paramount to
i all other affections.
\Vhy had she not told him all? So
:great was his love he could have forgiven
‘ everything.
' Ile lay on the cool grass for sometime,
i turning over future plans, but was. at last
6 roused from his blissful thoughts by the
‘ noise of the tqiprtmtlting train which was
fto bear him and his love back to San
. Francisco.
l He watched the devoted couple until
itlicy boarded the train. and then took a
‘ seat hiruSt-lf in the rear coach. flow dif-
lfercnt was the journey back. Every ol»
ject along the road sparkled like a daz~
filing gem; every plot of grass disclosed
f some new-born charmzthe very airscerned
to breathe happiness. John Ifnrlow‘s
new life began when he. boarded the train
: that afternoon. For reasons better known
i to llilllN‘lf he did not see (‘ora Lane for
,two weeks after the prison episode.
Ilc. Allowed the excitement of the past
f few weeks to completely die out before
5 he ventured to see her. Then he found
iher and reiterated his undying affection.
i They were soon married and returned to
the East. but the father remained in San
Francisco. where for trinity years he led a
good, useful life, and fully expiated his
' yust misdeeds. John buried the secret of
his wife deep in his noble heart; as rc~
gards that his lips were forever silent.
’ Utten as he sits and graves into herlargc,
- liquid eyes he Wonders if she reads his
thoughts: but as she never speaks of the
reason \\ by for three long years she
avoided the man she loved. he rests coti- :
: tented that his set ref is unknown to her. 3
i—.\'etc York Journal.
A Poultry llxehantre.
A poultry cvt-lizmgc for this city. says
the New York .fllfff "If-’1 Express, has be- ‘
come an established fact. The officers
for the present year. who have just been
§choscn. are: President. M. .‘I. l’otneroy;
Viced‘rcsidcnt, .l. Frank t‘lark‘. Secre-
gtary, Henry C. Fr‘ink; Treasurer and.
gManagt-r, L. N. Mark. In a talk with'
3 Manager (‘lark to day it was learned that
_ the clticfobjccts of the exchange are to be:
i _l. Holding an annual competitive exhi
btttori of tboruuglibnd {owls and poultrv up
. puttenances lll one of thcexbit-ition buildings ‘
of th'ts city.
2. Conducting auction sales of fancv fowl:
' “,“th‘b': u‘“ lll'lll ninnrhs. and at. ' ch other
times as the ““5 of trustees may di‘rect.
3. Leasing and occupying a suitable store
E as heenlqunrters of the exchange. and keeping
‘on ml. fowls, incubators, poultry supplies .
. and apparatus of all kinds pertaining to the
poultry business.
i 4. Advancing the poultry interests of
' America, disseminating poultry literature,
: improvinr shipping fut‘lllllv‘s, protecting buy-
; ersoffow s not ergs against llnpinslllull. and
i amistmo the mom ten. of the exchange in the
' sale and purchase of stock.
_ Mr. Clark said that the annual exhibi-
tion will be on a larger scale than any
. heretofore held in, this country.
gcurcd for the first exhibition, to take
place nc\t December.
novel features are to be a part of the ex
-hibition. Among these will be a
department. in w ilcll fowls are to
entered at a moderate fee for sale only,
land at the end of thc exhibition birds in j
i that department will be sold at auction.
gA collection of pigeons will be mazlc an
T cs )ccial feature, and premiums are to be
10 cred for the best record made by I
.5 flight of homing pigeons released during
; the exhibition. To make the show of an
E international character, the president of
? the exchange is to go to Europe during
. the summer to arrange with the leading
iprmltrymcn abroad for the entry. care
j and sale of their fowls. There is is to be
a separate denartment for market
\ultry, to contain capons, erosbrveds,
ressed poultry and eggs, and there will
be a restaurant in the building where
will be served thc‘ products of the
poultry ‘yard cooked in every style.
Garlhaldl‘s Great Strength.
After Gordon Garibaldi was my most
famous acquaintance. “'hat impressed
me most about him was the immense tri-
ceps, or shoulder muscles. ht‘ had. . They
were just like two half cocoanuts sticking
up undertu-aih his white Mexican mantle.
From Keenan and Morrisscy to Mace
(Sayers had a remarkably small arm) I
never saw anythin like it. It would
have made two of t cits. And the saber
he used! Two of the Life guards“ blades
forged into one would have just made it.
Many a time have I seen that awful saber
sweeping right, left, right, left, like
clockwork, as he mowed down the
enemy like grass, seated on his old white
eharwcr, leaving “a lane“ (that is the only
we l for us who followed him closely.
“Avanti! Avanti“ rang front his lips all
the While. and his trumpet voice rose
high above the loudest artillery fire. His
strength was simply herclilean, and was
onl surpassed by General Dunne.~—Poli
Na Gazette.
An Eleven—fearful! Deerslayor.
Mr. C. C. Richards, of Ward No. 3,
tells us of an odd occurrence near his
home last week. He and others went
out for a deer drive, when the. dogs get
up three and chased them so close that
they jumped into his field. His little son,
“3°11”: aged about eleven years, who
“‘“3 slang. joined in the chase, running
his home after the deer at breakvneek
speed, and prefied them so closely that
t CF attem ted to ayoid him by jumping
over three ogs lying close together. The
largest one succeeded in making the
jurnnp, but the other two struck against the
flu log and killed themselves, one of
being killed outright and the other being
dispatched by Master Wychie, who dis-
mounted and finished the one which had
0313 been stunned. We dare say this
circumstance, cqu led with the grit and
activity of the little fellow who per-
form the exploit, has never been
I; traded in this Stator—Golf“ (IA)
The ,
American Institute building has been so i
A number of‘
bull‘s :
llt‘ .
WOMAN’S : WORLD.
PLEASANT LITERATURE FOR
FEMININE READERS.
New York Girls Who Walk.
The New York “'alking Club—there
is a club, of course. Young America does
nothing singly — has been organized
within a month. It binds its members
“society“ girls all, to five 3 a day in
fair weather, to two miles in foul. It has
a club pace. a club costume. and a club
rendezvous. Three miles and. a half an
hour is the rate of motion it infists n um.
and Wednesday afternoons ari‘l‘fixm for
its grand meets. In the matter of wear—
ables it is at once latitudinarian and spe.
title. It has abjnred the corset! wwas the
like ever heard before l—iirzd high heels
are a tattooed barbarisrn. Long skirts
are on the forbidden list. and talking.r
jackets. with i:oiit:sleeves as far removed
as pos'Sible from the artrvcontining dol~
man. are written down among the neces-
sarics.
The Grecian Pug.
Last summer the girl who did not an
range her hair so that it'hung loose on
the bad: of her head and looked as if it
was about to tumble down any minute
was very nlllt'll out of the general run of
New York damsels. That‘s all over with
now. Fashion has taken a classic turn
this time, and the headdress that was in
more the favm-ite.
in a pug at the back and drawn smoothly
over the top 31' the head. If a girl is fa—
vored with a Grecian nose and a good
shaped head it is \ery becoming. But
very few girls are. That makes no dif~
same. \\'lien a pert little girl. with a
real Philadelphia turn up nose comes
done tip as Helen of Troy probably did
hers. there is very gtmd reason for folks
to laugh—~52» York Herald.
Advice to “'ivcn.
The following aphorisms were evident
ly written for the Breel'iynulloyueinc by a
man:
Remember that you are married to a
man, and not to a god; be prepared for
inila-rfcctions.
Anticipate the discovery by your ltus~
band
i you were not he would not care abeut
you.
Once in a while let your husband have
the last word: it will gratify him and be
no particular loss to you.
Let hint read the newspaper at break~
fast table; it is utisociablv, but. then. it
is only a trifle, after all, and he likes
I ll.
3 Be reasonable; it is great deal to ask
1 under some circumstances. but ddtry:
reasonable women are rare »~-be rare.
and you will be none the worse for ad~
; uiitting that you atetiot actually infalli~
' blc.
Read something in the papers besides
fashion notes and society columns; have
some knowledge of what is going on in
. foreign countries.
1 . . . .
t in a while: it keeps tip hts self-respect.
A Handsome anp filaiden.
in her really fine person a singular con~
trast to her rude companions. l’nmisu
takablc as to her race. she was yt-t‘a head
and shoulders taller than the rest. but
mnwstng the high iltet-kboucs, square
face and Mongolian cast of eyes which
There was an air of
characterizes them.
_ dignified modesty and almost of beauty
1 about this young
leather leggiris. queer
rough reindeer clothes.
busily occupied, as she stood there gnu-in
fully leaning against a rough stone wall
triuccasins
3 iii the soft sunshine. twisting the sincns arc still in fashion.
while she
1 of tho deer into fine thrcad.
carelessly glanced upjsnow and tulillll at
the curious cyes of fill3 author. who was
intently regarding her. Ullc could not
j but imagine what rtrnzirkablc possibili-
ties lzty hidden in this iiidhidual: what a
- change with :ttioti. culture and refined as-
’ sociatioit might t‘!t':llt' in her: what a
social world tlicre “as extant of which
’ she had never dreamt-ti. I‘. “as observed
' that her couqvtniwus of both St‘\i‘\ sot-med
i to defer foht-r. and we fancied flint she
. must he a sort of queen bee in the Latpyo‘
hi\'c.«-Bm'3u'fs “IN- Abrfi."
Baby Lil‘e :‘lllung the Apaches.
Leaning: against wagons and buildings
are don-us of little baskets with baby
: Apaches sticking their fists therein. The
baskets are of the regular Indian style.
and the poor babies are strapped and laced
into them fight and sung. nothingr show-
ing but the round chubby-face and two
tiny fists. Sonic squaws hang their bits-
kets to the saddle horn. because if they
t
go round and lick the babies‘ faces, much
to the little ones” discomfort. One rather
frisky pony. with a baby on the horn of
his saddle, wanders front the bunch and
is immediately surrounded by a crowd of
~ dogs. Their barking starts him to trot,
i and with a shriek the. mother rushes fr--rn
her place in the line to catch him. Bit.‘
the pony doesn‘t want to be caught, and
from a trot turns to a run, and away he
goes—the basket flapping on his side.
only making him run the harder.
one seems sorry for the poor baby, whose
yells are drowned in the general burst of
laughter that goes up. Finally the strap
that holds the basket breaks—down
comes poor baby. thiuup, to the ground.
face down. and the pony. after running: it
few more rods is caught by a boy, whilst
the distracted mother picks up her tin-
fortunate infant, and immediately unluc-
ing the decrskin cover, takes it out to
assure herself it is sound in body after its
rather risky ride and fall.—Orerl.i2:d
Monthly. ’
All About Calico.
The derivation of this word is very in~
teresting as of such an ancient date is its
origin. Mrs. Leonowens says in her
“Travels in India,“ that “in the year
1-198. just ten month‘s and two days after
leaving the port of Lisbon, \‘asco da
Gama landed on the coast of Malabar at
Calicut, or more pro rer. Kale Rhoda,
‘City of the Black Codi ess.‘ (‘alicut was
at that period not only a very ancient
seaport. but an extensive territory, which,
stretching along the western coast of
Southern India, reached from Bombay
and the adjacent islands to Cape Cornerin.
It. was at an early period so famous for its
weaving and dyeing of cotton cloth that
its name 8 identified with the
manufactured fabric, whence the name
calico. It is now generally admitted that
this ingenious art originated in India in
very remote ages, and from that country
found its way into E .pt. It was not
until toward the middle of the seven-
teenth centu that calico- ‘ntin was in‘
troduced int Euro .. know edge of
the art was acquiredJ by some of the ser-
vantsintheservioe of the Dutch East
vogue with the giddy girls of Athensi
when Socrates said wise things is once ;
The hair is I‘Vlull'tl‘
fercncc. they follow the fashion just the
tripping down Broadway with her hair
that you are “only a WotnauC‘ if
Let him know more than you do once '
Nature is snulcllulcs anomalous. Among I _ ,
the groupof Lapp men and women whom have Ell?“ edges “Ul'd‘d “ “ll lht‘ “I“? *
we met in the >ll‘l‘t‘l‘ of 'I‘rotnuu‘, there ' “WWW“-
stuod one, atnll. stately girl I“ cnfyfitWo
‘ years of age, more or lt~\~, who presented
and
are left standing on the ground the dogs ’
N0.
whence it was introduced .in London in
the ear 16’s.” It issnrprising for grown-
up c lldmn, as well as our yotm folks,
to learn that “Pliny as early as t e first
century mentions in his natural history
that there existed in Egypt 3 wonderful
method of dyeing white cloth." Calico
cannot be despised when it boasts of
such antiquity. The shoddy makeup of
the present day may- look down with
contempt upon the calico dress, but.
‘~ 'hat kind of a lineage has it?“ the
engco can proudly ask.
’» Fashion Notes.
I’tblotmiscs are seen on many of the new
dressch.
The polonnisc promises to be VHF PM"
tilar for summer suits.
Salmon pink and gray-blue are favorite
colors in spring bonttets.
Children's stiwking-s are in dark shades,
clocked with brilliant colors.
Soft faillr- franchise is Still the best
choice for plain black dresses.
(‘over coats of the regular masculine out
are worn by women as wraps.
The old~fashioned heavy gros grain silks
are coming into great favor again.
Cashmere, repped silks and rnoires are
the fabrics most used for dressy toilets.
Uld gold is entirely passe as a color,but
old pink is the popular shade in rose.
color. .
Ivory white satin and faille francaise
1 are equally fashionable for wedding
dresses.
(treat pendants of diamonds in the
’3 form of a heart. very costly and ugly. are
3 in fashion.
l
The popular combination dresses prom-
. ice to be those of cashmere \trttpet over
i silk skirts.
Large legborn flats are stylish for little
girls” simply trimmed with rosettes of
baby ribbon.
New shoulder (‘fliWa are made. of
passctnt-nteriearid are either with or wrth-
. out beads or jets.
t'ut steel ornaments of different (le-
, signs are still the most stylish choratiun .
’ for walking hats.
E A set of buttons set with real garnets
i vvcre very pretty on a tea gown of light
‘ blue (‘ltina cmpc.
' Black gloves are again worn with full
l dress: the dark ttilles first. bringing
I them into favor again. 7
Large full faulike bows are used for
. trimming hats instead of ribbon and are
i considered very stylish.
2 Long: gnu" veils in bright tinted tulle
g are wound around the hat or bonnet and
‘ tied in, front with a bow.
l Some of the fancy open Work bonnets
‘ have a lining of bright colored silk the
l effect being odd and gay.
I Ribbon ties are seen still on many
stylish shapes. although there are jaunty
i bonnets which have no strings.
I’rcttv bastistc gowns in color are
trimmed with velvet which is ripped off
each time the dress is laundered.
the (‘Iillllllfl‘ Season, particularly when
“lit-ll black is the foundation color.
. .
Some new sleeves are pointed at the .
top. the point extending nearly to the
collar between the fronts and backs of
the shoulders.
‘ Basques of cashmere. or fine woolen
\‘civct.
g Mask veils with scolloptwd lmrders in
tulle of every color, and also in more sob-
stamial gauze or grenadine dotted with
clicnlilc. and the edge marked by rows of
JUL: quitr slime together. are fashions-
‘I‘l‘_
Young ladies wr-ar turbans, with black
lace crown, jet brim close around the.
woman. 53.19 of 1,0} head. and a knot in front made up of
black cm‘kC ltllllllt'< and black moire rib. ‘
Ilcr ting”, \‘lprp buns tied together \‘Illl pale green, blue
or old rose ribbon.
Curiously designed hair and hat pins
New ideas are bails.
carved in two, Janus-like. and fullmoom
like faces. with coritrasfing expressions. "
and small ambcr pins beaded with chasm!
drops, twists and balls.
Thv. newest boom-ts are in cap shapes.
with lullgt‘f crow us than any lately worn;
and these begin to show a tendency to-
ward lowering the
them still high. yet not in the exagger-
ated heights of the past season.
. White undressed kid rnousquetaire
gloves are now worn both by the bride
' and her maids; the lutfcr still, in Some
cases, cling to llll' tart colored gums dc
suede, 2b tllt'St’ tutti-r cling to the hands.
3 but they are worn in much lighter colors
. than formerl
The coat. leeve, “ith puff and wrist-
. band. is an established fact.
set on the upper half of the sleeve. on
the lining. \\ hit-h is of coatslecve shape. .
In points or!
turned back in revers, the puff being‘
The outer fabric is cut
shirred underneath.
.—
*—
Acadlan Cloth.
l One of the lft‘<(‘tlfn sent to the Presi‘
' dent is wort iy of mention. It was a
piece of “ Attakapas t'ottonsde.“
- Aendian cloth. a pieuliar fabric made
only in the Attakapm country of South-
west Louisiana. and once worn winter
and summer by the Acadian planter of
‘ that region. The material is peculiar. of
cotton and linen, a beautiful blue. and
g very thick and heavy. It is almost
waterproof. and a suit of it will last for
, years. Since the war it has alritost gone
: out of use, as the secret of making it be-
‘longs to the Acadian alone. The cloth
, sent to President t‘lcveland was spun and
woven on the plantation in the parish of
‘ Iberia of old Simonette Le Blane, one of
i the patriarchal planters of the Attaka s
region, who has three generations of is
‘ own descendants living near him. This
, venerable gentleman was born under the
f reach domination, when Louisiana be~
long-ed to France, and he has seen his
‘ native State under four flags.
Sensations of the head Alive.
Dr. Tanner. the famous faster, says in
a letter to the Xew York Herold: I
once interrogated a man, who had
awakened from a trance at the moment
of sepnlture. as to his feelin while he
thus lay to all appearance cad. His
answer was prom t and to the point:
“Have you ever elt the immlyzing in~
finenee of aterrible nightmare? If you
have had such experience you are pre-
pared to conceive feebly of the mental
agonies I endured when I realized that
my friends believed me dead and were
making preparations for my burial.
Once I believed there was no hell. Now
I not only believe but possess isitive
knowledge. The hours and ays of
mental struggle spent in the vain en~
deliver to brake loose from the vice-like
mare was a bell of torment suchns no
tongue or pen could portray!"
. A Virginia City man tells of pine
timbers .m the Consolidated Virginia
Mme which were originally six by air,
but have been squeezed down so they are
India Company and carried to Holland.
only two inches thick.
A CITY HOSPITAL.
nauanxanu; worm norm
wan Sl'flulcnxs‘ axrvns.‘
A Patient Her Experience—
ABaiy‘s C, \I-‘uut Changed—-
Cutting 10¢! an (inner-—
Wond‘érfil Surgery.
A woman who was a private patient .for
SOVt-ral weeks in a leading hospital in .\ew
York city consented to fell at Hull and
Express reporter some interesting facts in
regard to the ulcerations performed.
They are remarkable instant-cs of medical
and surgical skill. The lady was never
in an hospital boforc and was quite can-
on: to observe the actions of patients,
nurses and Suf‘gci-ns. sht- had an in-
teresting experience w ith her next
door neighbor, who was sum-rm;
front dementia. The set 'Ul‘ld night
of her stay. he ‘unipcd out of bed
and ran into the ward shout i112 "Murder 1“
and “Police!" until half the hospital was
aroused and nurses and attendants,
orderlies and doctors rttlttc rushing;r totbc
srene. As that weird cry of murder
rang and echoed through the long halls
and corridors the effect was remarkable.
'An engineer in one of the private rooms,
with crushed bead and almost senseless.
ceased his low tntuufl of pain and lis-
tened. He had been brought to the bos~
pital two days before. :tft- rf:-lling down
an elevator shaft and >lrihlltg nu his head,
sustainingnn injury a lift it upon cxamina~
tion proved to be a curxipuun-l fracttm: of
the skull. A very skiltul operation was
performed by the :llfcntilltx; aurgruu‘i.
IIis brains yvcre entirely removed and
broken pieces of the ~kitil extracted and
the uninjttrmi portions of the brain re»
turned to their place. Eva-n the little
thrce‘mortthsAold babe. brought them
with club feet. now straightened with
brave and bandage. ceased its wailings
Orange color is Seen in millincry for?
Silk basques may be plainly ‘
faced or else Corded with silk or with '
rimming, makiug‘
The. pttfl' is j
0! i
gupon the back. Some per-mus
of pain and listened, qu_ A little
three—year old boy with a broken leg, n ho
; had been moaning: all day and calling for
, his mother, hushed his cries and, clutch
g ing the bed clothes, lay with Wltlt‘ open
l
5
‘ eves the remainder of the night. In the
woman‘s ward was It poor creature who
ihad fallen from a booth ~tory window,
.breakinw both lt-L's. llll«'t‘ ribs and sua-
ltaining internal injuries. The sound .l'f
lthe alarm below partially amused her
3 from her lethargy and ‘lh‘ luggan calling
i for the little childrrn o ho a ere playing
. on the floor of her it rtcruetlt room when
lshe fell. Although i rythiu;r wet; done
(for her at the bosp . the pom mtinan
idied the next. day. The old man was
itinally coaxed back to his room and the
,idoor locked this time to prevent another
3 escnpade.
“It is astonishing.“ said the lady, “to
. witness what is accomplished in difficult
isnrgery at the hospitals. even in these
6 davs of scientific discoveries and achieve
meats. After ulnl0~l cutting: people in
, pieces and putting Illt'lll together again.
and keeping them in bed a couple o:
weeks, they turn ”Will our curt-d. And
. it is done So easily. The simplest n-ute~
,dies possible and system and regularity
in every detail are strictly observed. The
,service is atlllllf‘nllir. Holy trained and
» experienced nurses. tunic art-i fi-tuai- . are
employed. and Ilit’ll the contcttiencvs and
paraphernalinarc so perfect. The atubn‘
‘ lance comes and 2m-~. and brings ‘t-fi‘n’.
, after patient. If their injuries are slight
the wounds are dressed, and they arc sent.
away; if serious. they are imnimliati-Ey
taken to the ojemting room and from
jthence to the wards. So questions are
asked, no gossiping is allowed. and one of
5 the nurses said to me. when she thought
:1 was too iuqtiidtivc: ‘lYe an: here to
i work and not talk.
i "One day I [lull-’v-vl
unusual.
» mcnt among the ordctiim and my
(‘\t'ilc<
nurse
informed ine slit? would but c to in an» me
for a couple of hours in charge of the
nurse from the next ward. A middle-
aged gentleman suffering {ruin a caticcr
I on his tongue had curt-rid the hospital
to be ojn-mtcd upon. The seriousness of
: the taxi: caused thr flutter of cxcilcrttcitt
among the mir‘cx 'l‘i‘t- N‘t'lll of ether
was in the air and vu- iini-w lit" new
ticnt was lk'lllgt’ull\l‘_‘fl‘tl to the “peril:-
' mg room. To U hours passtsri and h:- did
not return. Another imurand the order—
lies bore him to his room. Ths opt-ration
had been entirely >llt't‘l ssful. Sonic of
his teeth Writ: extracted and the lllltit‘?
jaw had to l»- >;.\\’t: apart in \f'\ firms and
’ turned door: to er the lll‘l'k. while about
’ twodhirds of the humor and roots o ere
removed: then the separated jaw was re.
united, the head and face bandaged and
two hours Ill“? be was sleeping like a
= babe.
“The scrt it c in a fil‘~l-€luss hospital, it
seems to me, 'i~ the best medical and
surgical skill that science can unumand.
The great lwncvoh-uce and self-denial
with which the physit inns work in such
I
want to say to all who are afflicted that
7 to be ct'vnveyed tn a hospital is by no
i means to be conveyml to the grave.“
~ institutions are to be greatly admired.
. ,_.____.__.___. ‘
l Smiles as; Means of Expression.
i In the first plat e. there is the presents-
- lion smile of ~tu'lt‘l)’. You are presented
ton lady. who not only bows to Show
5 that she puts herself at your feet, and
rhaps gives her hand to show that she
Sims nut‘meau to pull hair or Scratch {I
still follow the doubtless correct evolu-
tion theory of ccrcnxonialst, but she
“smiles and smiles.“ to Show that her
mood is one of sweet antiability. and that
you are. therefore. for the present. safe.
Then there is the pretty. pearly. rip~
{ling laugh. with which your "nub
already twice this evening. is received.
Herc, certainly. there is no put-up casv
cade of crnotiu that seeks for an outlet.
The sweet lady . laugh is partly for vuur
sake. that you t ay feel the soft thrill of
self~ap ilaiise, an partly for her own, be
cause sie knows . c laughs well. $2
pulls it exactly as if ' were a stop in an
organ.
Then there is the bit “r laugh of the
sad. sad young man who‘isttco to im-
press upon your mind the hollownm that
all things have for him: and the well-
managed smile of Jacques, the elder
cynic. who thinks thus to uilltcr vom-
youthful aspirations and, at the same.
time, to suggest his own unfatluuned
deeps of cruel disillusion—Auaalic
Monthly.
m‘
The Position Taken Daring Sleep.
A very large number of adults form
the habit of sleeping in one particular
[mitiom such as lying upon their right
or left side. A smaller number sleep
‘ sleep
with the head greatly extended; more
often it is flexed considvmblv upon the
i the head very low.
grasp of this worse than horrible night-
a...»
trunk. Many must have the head “rear-
ly elevated; others can only slecpbwith
Some observations
made by Dr. G. Nosovitch (Warlock)
upon 235 soldiers showed that 37.5 per
:2: 5511):}: upofr': thedright side, 23 per
. n c an 6.5
the’bock. per cent. on
It has. yet to be determined whether
any particular harm can come from slee
trig tnacertainpofitionwhich the indi:
mucoruiously mmn‘ledud'
‘ . ~—.
rowu“ anecdote. which has been heard '
Norwalk Chronicler