HIS S‘VEETHEART I Wondered why 'Barry should be sit- ting alone in the gaiden at 10 o’clock ' on a fine. 11111111 mter night.- As I re- membered him, he had been a sociable 'sort of fellow, fond of gayety and pretty girls; and there was a cotillon going on indoors in the. ballroom. I wondered, too, where his wife was, for he had told me he was married. It .was six years since I had last seen him. _We had been boys together, just out of college, and I had visited him for a summer in the southern part of the State,"where his home had always been, and where his family was one of the few “old" ones which could rightly lay claim to gentility of other than mushroom growth. After that visit I 113111, gone back to San Francisco, and to a truly San Francisco system of work with the result that my health and spirits had" steadily decreased, and eat the end of these half dozen years I was obliged to come South for recreation. I had chosen this delightful and quiet hotel in the hope that I might not have my peace disturbed by any of my numerous acquaintancesrbut here, the first thing, came down upon us in our retreat a crowd of. 'worldings from town, bent on dancing :1 cotillon- Barry had come with them; why then, I repeated. was he not in the hop room, and where was his wife? 'I’erhaps she* did not (lance. But in that case, why. was either of them with the frivolous patty that 1'as tu1uing- our secluded spot into Bedlam." ' ' Fora moment longer I let my gaze follow a girl in white satin who had fascinated me. She was very young, and brilliant and erect with the face a painter would have chosen for 011111- pias, 11'1eathed in vines and Serpents. A. high, . unnaturally white iorhead, with very black and very straight, thin blows, eves long and flashing and yruel. a large nose suggestive of the 1‘. Hebrew, thin, red lips. continually parted in a wild sort of smile over wonderful teeth; a brilliant color, a long face, black hair, parted and twisted low 011 one of the most colum- nar necks I had ever seen. It was not a beautiful face; in repose it was far from beautiful, but it was rarely in re- pose, and her laugh was the most be- wildering thing imaginable. If she had been the heroine of a romance, men would have loved and hated her to the extent of the shedding of a rre at deal of blood, but in life to- day it shard cash, not women‘ s faces, that recomplislies that. I took one last took at the (lemoniacal young face, and then went to hunt 11p Barry. " I‘Ve had already met in the office. but. had not had time to exchange a dozen words. ‘I wanted to talk over 'old times and new times, so, when I drew near him. I scraped my feet and coughed. as being the approved method of breaking in upon tete-a-tetes and meditations; and when- he started, I said: .“Hullo! That you, Barry?" and took 1‘? seat beside him on the bench. He offered me a cigar andgave me a light, from which I inferred I was not unwelcome. at “What are you doing. mooning under a pepper tree? It seems to me danc- ing’s more in your line;_or, does the madam dance?” “Yes. she dances." “Oh!” I said, and seeing slippery ground proceeded to avoid it. “Came down ,~ from town to- night with the party, didn’t you?” I asked. “Yes.” “Heaps of pretty women." “Do you think so? I admire your Northern women more; they have more distinction, too. Ours fade early, be- sides.” “Well, there’s one girl there, by Jove! that makes tip for a country of ‘mediocrity—that witch of a flirt with the black hair and the very bare‘shoul- ders who is dancing with Thornton. If I didn’t happen to have some one I like better. in the city, I think I’d go in for her.” “But she’s married my friend " “N0?" “'ho s the proud possessm. 9" “I am " “.You don’t say? Since when?" “Since five years ago, nearly.” “Well. it‘s a little late. but permit me to congratulate you; she’s superb.” "Thanks.” And then we lapsed into silence. and I reflected upon the fa- ,cility with which a well—meaning man may put his foot in it. “You wonder at my not dancing. don’t you?” he said, abruptly. “Well, i used 1'.-:1 like it; I like it now; but I found Mrs. Barry was already on- gaged, so there was nothing for me to do but to order flowers gracefully and step here—to reflect and recall. "Do you know,” he went on, “I had a romantic meeting and parting on this spot once. Right under this very "roe. It was just after I left you, six years ago—the meeting. 'I had ridden out here from town on Nocturne—you remember her, the little black mare? i was Milking her alongtheroad which 1'a11‘about six feet from here, just about where that .Bon Silene bush is 1it was before the days of the hotel), when all of a sudden she shied 'at what i10ked like a bundle of old clothes under this tree. No—no, I wasn’t -‘hrown, and I wasn’t rescued by the heroine. just enough to make me look again at the bundle and wonder what it was—J it was dusk, you know—and then to notice that the bundle moved. “Wherefore I concluded it was a woman, probably a Mexican. It was a woman, or a very young girl, rather, and deuced pretty one—a Mexican, too. 1 could see that, even in the twi- light, for her eyes gleamed in the dark as only a' pair of Mexican eyes, 1111 \gleam; and and there was an added brightness, for the eyes were wet with tears.x How do I knowlfl I dismounted and found out, of course. It isn't It was not much of a shy,_ '. likely I was going to see a 11 oman \ f pro": on in ground, a long way from the nearest habitation, at nightfall, . and yet not offer her any assistance 1:1 my power. “W,ell as I said, she was c1ying stormily, and I set about finding out why. She told a most blood—cufdling tale of parental cruelty. It wasn’t true. I’ve found that out since. She‘ 11.15 only 16, but she could tell an ex- traordinaiily good lie.'As a matter of fact, she had found that a particular ' flame of 11ers was going to take another girl to some shindy. But the cruel treatment story (lid nicely, and I com- forted here——she was such a mere child, I honestly thought. The lie was innocent enough. They aren’t taught to think a falsehood. anything serious. She was just a trifle shy, and shrink-.1 ing, like a little girl who puts her hands behind her, and lowers her lashes at the advances of a stranger. In fact, that is exactly what she did. You should have seen those lashes! You’d have been just as big a fool as I was, and have stayed until the moon rose, and made an appointment for another meeting, and eventually you’d ' have fallen as badly in love as I did. “We always met under this tree. It was 011 her f:1111'e1"s land, but quite out of sight of the house. She said that if lhe were to find 11s together he would redouble his brutality; but I assured her that if we were discovered, we . would 1'1111 off at once and get married. The child was in one of her acquies- cent moods, and lowered her eyes and agreed. (if course, I could only man- age to get away on- Saturday even- ings or Sundays (this is the anniver~ sary of our meeting, by the by. You see I cling to old memories), but we' made the most of our time. I never had been so infatuated as 1 was with that Spanish child, with her tawdy, bright frocks, her shy ways, her gor- geous eyes, and her broken English. She really was Spanish, and not Mexi- can I lear.11ed" "They all 1110.” I ventured "I know, but your sarcasm is wasted: in this case it was beyond question. and there was American blood in her veins. too—a little of it. "I insisted upon running away with her and getting 111:11'1'ied at S012 and. after no end of refusals, she finally consented. ()h, I was far too smitten. too ensnaer, to have it occur to me then how a match of the sort would hamper my career: how an ignorant Country girl would prove a thorn in my flesh in the critical town clique; what a social drag she would be upon me. I knew the family would raise particular Cain: but when a man wants to marry in spite of his family, he is apt to look upon it as a small 'stone. to be. kicked out of his path, and it takes him some. time to discover that his pebble is a good-sized bowlder. "But we quarrelled.” A. long pause, while Barry lit another cigar from the old 011:1111111 puffed it into glowing. l kept silem e and after a while he went on: “ 'You may think most women are fiery. but you should try a Spaniard. She got the cruel father—a harmless, shrivelledup old fellow—to take her into town behind one of his trotters one dav. She wanted to buy a gown. which she told him 11 as for some kind of a. baile out here, but it was really to get married in. I had brought her a sample of the stuff I wanted her to get, othcrwiseshe’d have appeared in pink and green 1and wlute lace, beyond a doubt. Her taste 1'as simply nul. =“Well. she saw me on the street with a city girl. I believe it was Nora Clark—you remember her? She was the merest acquaintance, as you know, and I treated her as one does any woman one happens to meet. \Ve passed a confectioner’s, and I, natur- ally enough, asked her to have some soda water. I don’t suppose I’d have done it if I’d known that Ysadora was around, simply because I was aware that she wouldn‘t take it as an Amer- ican fiancee would have done. But she was around, and she thought I was doing the deadly devoted; so the’ next Saturday, when we were to have; run away, she met me with re- proaches and tears, and deviltry gen- erally. ever to marry me 01' any other man, and she used some strong but musical Spanish. I fancy she was worse jeal- ous than hurt, but I—well, I was c0m~ pletely done' up. To say that she -looked more beautiful than ever would be to put. it weakly. \Vhen I saw her disappear for good over behind that clump of eucr lyptus, I was on the verge of suicide. Pity I stopped at the verge. “The fellow who has since built the hotel bought this spot, that saw oui meeting and our plarting; when her old father didd, a year or so later. “Youcame along just as I was going over old meinories'and wishing—I sup pose I should not say it—wishing that it were six years ago and that I was still blindly infatuated with my Span- ish sweetheart of 16.” I am notfond of the modern unfin~ ished story. ,I 1 'ant to see the heroine laid in her grave by a host of weeping grandchildren. and the hero following her contentedly soon after, so I asked. “But what became of the girl 1*“ “\‘otiiing ever ‘beccnzes’ in real life,” he answered. “Where is‘ she now. 9” I persisted. “In the ball room, dancing with the cot‘dlon with' i‘"ho1nton.” ( “Then—” ' “Yes. We made it up after he1 father’s death, and were married—~on dry land—and have lived happily ever after,” he added, shrugging his shoul- ders and. throwing away his cigar.— San F_'ancisco Argonaut. Favored. Uncle Bob—I hope, Tommy, you are a favorite with your teacher. Tommy~ I. think I must be; she can’t seem to get enough of me, or she would not keep me in so much—Topeka. Ga- zette. _ . " . ~ ' She wouldn’t listen to reason; She tore up the new gown, and refused 'C :3— CD ~ 2 Z l""|"'l ‘ - 4 .1 11 T n E . 'E vE N111 Gj "‘1'; "A z ETTII 'v MOST REGE—NTF FASHIONS.“ The Entire Costume Censidered, but Mme Especially the Skirt. (By Special Arrangement with the N. Y. Sun.) The most interesting developments in fashion just at present are seen in the skirts, which show a decided ten- dency for trimmings of all kinds. The latest silk gowns are berufiled from the hem to the waist. Black taffeta silk seems to be the most fashionable ma- terial for skirts to wear with odd waists, and theruflies are either hemmed 01' pinked on the edge and are four 01' five inches wide. In some .in- stances they are in graduated Widths, not more than nine inches wide at the bottom nor less than four at the waist. One very striking costume of this sort shown in the illustration has a black velvet bolero, 'handsomely em~ broidered in jet, gold thread, and a, . / / 1" have / .:./ I Z / . 1 9’ fancy jewels, and the vest is of white chiffon over cream satin. The close sleeves are of velvet with epaulettes lined with satin, and the draped belt of taffeta silk is fastened with a gold buckle. The knife plaitings five inches wide, narrowly hemmed 011 both edges to form a little heading, are K,another mode of trimming these taf- feta Skirts. One is set 011 at the bot- tom, one just below the knee, and the third half way between the two. The waist worn with this skirt at the op- era was of pale blue chiffon arranged in plaitcd frills alternated with van— dyke lace insertion across the upper part. and a double bow of apricot wa- tered ribbon finished the top of the sleeves and formed the collar. Triple skirts, or rather those which have that appearance, are occasionally seen, and the upper one is long enough to reach within'a little more than quar- ter of a yard from the bottom. This space is filled in with two pieces cut and fitted on to the lining, as if they were full length skirts. In a gown of gray cloth the upper skirt opens 011 one side and a foundation of bright plaid velvet peeps out as the wearer walks while the edges up the sides and around the bottom of the three skirts are bound with gray satin. Dress sleeves continue to grow smal- 'ier, so small, indeed, that the services of one’s escort are no longer required to crowd them into one’s jacket. The inviolate law for jacket sleeves is small below the elbow and large above. The old fashioned Marie Antionette kerchieflis popular with women who have pretty necks and small figures. [t is extremely graceful and extremely useful. There is no form of tranming quite its equal for covering a shabby waist- A yard'of swiss, a fewyards of lace and a half dozen pins, and any rme. with a dainty, touch can have one of these pretty arrangements. It should _ be worn crossed just above the line of the bu-,st where the ends may be tied In a bow or brought doWn‘ and tucked [way in a belt. 511's. Beecher on House-11115. love alone can insure a home maker. A good boarding house or hotel may sup- ply every comfort that a housekeeper can give. but a good wife and mother will insure a home. .. . . If our daughters are. from their car- liest years. led step by step through beginning at the first and ’simplest, in accordance with their age, they will. year by yea 1'. find real pleasure in such duties, and in the progress they cannot but see that they are making. And when they reach matured age they are the ones who will make happy homes. spizfation to mothers who watch over an pray for guidance as they try to lead their daughters correctly from infancy to womanhood. It will not take many lessons in such small duties as you can teach a little girl to do easily before she will be fully equal to trying to go a step higher. Be sure. however. after the lesson has been repeated, that it is perfectly learned. Accept no work that is only half done, 01' carelessly done. That by all means be a patient, smiling inst1'.uctor cheerful, To Clean “'hite Fur at: Home. Slice down one-half pound of best white soap into a gallon of water, and boil it till it is all dissolved: it cool, and, when nearly lukewarm, mix into it a good handful of bran. “'ash the fur in this mixture (being careful. while cleansing the fur,j to wet. while still warm, then rinse it well in clean water, to which you have added a few drops. of liquid blue;I dry it as quickly as possible in a warm room. but not before the fire, 01' toolclose to it. 01' the/skin will shrink, shaking the skin frequently to keep the fur from matting. and rubbing the skin itself, and pulling it into shape with your hands as it dries, to keep it from stif- fening- The best way, however. of cleansing a delicate fur is never to wash it at all, but to brush it frequent- iy with powdered pipeclay till you get off the dirt; but, for this to be-success- ful, the fur should never be allowed to get very dirty. or soap and water will be indispensable.—\Voma11’s “'orld. A Mistake “’hich hIother’s Often Make. An Alabama girl, whose mother, in her anxiety to teach her about heaven, has made the mistake of telling Gracie 'so often that she will never go to heaven if she does this, that or the ' other thing, has grown to look upon Sunday, recently, after "she had-been discovered surreptitiously playing with her doll, which she is not permitted to far is it from heaven to the had said mamma. such a question ?” Gracie. - “nothing, “Oh. nothing,” said my dolly and go do‘wn to the bad place some day and play a little whilc.”—~ Woman’s World. A New Occupation tor \Vomen. A' young woman connected with the Woman‘s Exchange at 12 West Thir- tieth Street, has taken up a line of work in which she has feW competi- tors. She is a photographer. She takes interiors of houses, home pic— tures of the people living in them, and anything else of the kind that may be desired. A series of charming pictures of a child whose parents had almost given. up hope of having any success- fully taken, are exhibited on the wall of the Exchange.‘ There is nothing amateurish about the work. It is ex« ceedingly well done, and has been highly spoken of by prominent photog- raphers in the city. Orange Cups. The new orange cup is bound to meet with a welcoine from those who have vainly struggled with the prob- lem ,of eating an orange gracefully. This cup resembles in shape a claret glass considerably enlarged, and is in silver. In the cup itself are two strong prongs that hold the orange firmly in place while one takes out the juicy con- tents with the long, trough- like orange spoon quite at his ease. —New York Journal. ‘ .___——————._ ' P Good Suggestions. . To detach a fish-bone from the throat; swallow a raw egg as quickly as it can be obtained. in Ink- stains on anything white can be removed by washing first in strong salt and water and then. in lemon- juice. This does not rot the'fibres like salts of lemon. Salt Fish—It will be found that salt fish is most quickly and best fresh- ened by soaking in sour milk. Orange Flower Tea. Candied orange flowers added to the Oolong 01' Pekoe of the 5 o’clock'tea just before the hot water is poured over, the whole to remain under the by those who have tried it, a delicious and unguessed aroma. -—New York Journal. ' Keeping Flowers Fresh. A'handful of salt dropped into the. water in' which flowers are kept in- creases its coldness. and preserves the freshness of 'the Llossc. """ far :1 long '11:\ . ; Money can buy a housekeeper, but: all the. branches of domestic economy, C This thought should.be almost an in- _' would be injustice to the child. But. then let - the actual skin as little as possible) " heaven as a place where one can do. nothing that one wishes to do. One” do on the Sabbath, she broke out sud-' denly with the query: “Mamma, 110w. place ?” “Why, I don’t know, Gracie”. “What makes you ask only I thought, may-. be, if it wasn’t too far, I could take. cozy for five minutes, impart, it is said, 1 1'1 l! «xv-“.1..- . . -~.
Norwalk Chronicler