She Draws a Prize,
who buys Ivorine..Ivorine
~ is a prize. The cake of'
superb Toilet Soap' that
she finds in eyery package
is a prize, and the longer
she uses them the more
highly she prizes them.
YOu only pay for the
Ivorine — the, Toilet Soap
costs you nothing. Ivor-
ine for household uses -—-
the Toilet Soap for wash-
stand, bath, and nursery.
The J. B. Williams’ Co., Glastonbury, Conn.
Makers of Williams’ Famous Shavmg Soaps.
WASHING. poWoengé
FIRE IN “Milli—*—
l
r
“‘1'-
A Wise Man Keeps
. i his Hume Insured
N Against Fire.____.
THE restaurateurs nErnesnnrrn
w. mariner-n.
anal mum: anltnlne. - - ~ - loam, eonn
~ '~
GET YOUR
' JOB: PRIN
%_ GAZETTE OFFICE.
e001) Wear~ reruns RIGHT.
New Direct Fast Line -
+BETWEEN—
New York and the Mediterranean
Regular Passenger Service
BETWEEN—— ‘
lien Yerk, Naples and ' Genoa.
During «Entire Year.
OUTWARDS PREPAID 5.
To Naples 5 r 8 From Naples $ 1 7
“ Genoa‘ I 8 “ Genoa r 7
“ Messina‘. 20 “ Messina: I 6
“ Palermo 20 “ . Palermo 19
TICKETS CAN BE.OBTAINED AT THIS OliFdCE.
$1.0m . |$l.0‘0
Warranted Solid Gold.
Beautiful Chased Holder.
You may think it cannot possess merit or, durability, the price is so low; but
the “Lincoln” is a $2.50 pen reduced to $1.00. It is durable, always ready to “go"
but ueverdrips, the ink flowing steadily and uniformly. Thev are in use in this
omce, givmg the best of satisfaction, and they are in .use in the .ba 5, insuranc:
and busrnessofi‘ices and among all classes of users of pens «in N orwalk and vicinity.
Orders are received from all parts of the country. '
Samples to be seen and orders received at the GAZETTE» OFFICE.
7 __
' ' 'OU read this advertisement, If it had been:
yours and others had read it, how much
good it’ might have done. Send in your: adv.
and we will do the‘ rest. Rates! on application.
'1' _a P '
‘ A SONG 0F DAYS.
Lazy days and daisy days,
i 'An' time to take your case
Rollin’ in the-clover '
0r hummin’ with the bees.
Merry days and berry days, 3
An’ time to slip away
Where the river‘s makin’ music
Under mosses cool and gray.
, Singiu’ days :In' swingin‘ days,
An’ ain’t you “reelin' line
' lWhen you’re tangled in the blossoms
Of a honeysuckle vine:
Lazy days an' hazy days,
An’ life is mighty sweet.
M'ith a green bank for your wi'ow
And lilies at your feet.
BROKEN CONNECTION.
‘ BY FRANK H. SWEET.
“Two days’. limit,” said Willis'Bates,
as he looked doubtfully at the ticket.
"Can I make it in that time?”
“Yes,” and the agent pushed some
change through the window and wait-
ed. expectantly for the next man in- the
line. “We make close connections.
Ten minutes stop at Columbia, and
twenty at Charlotte for dinner. Jack-
sonville, sir? Nine ten,” and Bates felt
himself pushed unceremoniously aside
by a portly man who was eager to
change a bank note for the ticket
which was being stamped.
“That’s your train on the outside
track,” the agent called warningly.
“Better hurry.”
As this advice was accentuated by a
sharp “All aboard!” and a. rush of a
few belated passengers toward the out-
side track, Bates snatched up his hand
bag and sprang forward.
“Whew! That was certainly close
connection,” he said grimly, as he
swung himself on the rear car of the
moving train. “If I keep on at. this
sale, and that will mean a thousand
dollars in my pocket. Lucky I thought
of" it.”
The parlor car was. full, so he went
on until he found a seat with a loqua-
cious, insistent hotel runner. Just
across was a bright-looking woman in
a-plain travelling suit, and he glanced
at her with sudden, half-recognizing
inquiry.
But a traveller is always running
across faces that look familiar, and his
attention was soon engrossed in ward-
. ing off the advances of the hotel run-
ner. The train rushed on with the ve-
hement, noisy imp‘etuosity peculiar to
southern trains, as though striving
to give an impression of terrific speed;
and the fine South Carolina dust sifted
in through the windows and spread
thickly over the dingy plush seats, call-
ing forth handkerchiefs and impatient
exclamations from-.the passengers, and
swirling now and then’ into angry
clouds at the feeble onslaught of the
train boy’s broom. Once he noticed
the woman of the opposite seat locking
at him inquiringly, as though she, too,
was trying to recall something familiar.
But when he turned to her she was
gazing from the window.
At Columbia he spent the ten min-
utesin a forced defence of politics, and
at Charlotte was glad to leave his com-
panion and join the rush toward the
railroad restaurant. As a general
thing he avoided such places; there
was apt to be poor food and service,
and not infrequently one was served so
late that he could only snatch a‘few
mouthfuls before it was time to hurry
to the train. .
But here he was agreeably disap-
pointed, and when he went to the desk
near the door to leave his seventy-five
cents, it was with a feeling of satis-
faction at not having been imposed on.
Outside, he looked at his watch; it
still lacked five minutes of train time,
so he walked leisurely down the plat-
form, with the complacence of a man
-who has just had a good dinner and
who is perfectly satisfied with himself
and the world.
As he turned to come back, he found
himself face to face with the woman
who had sat opposite to him in the car.
For a moment they gazed squarely into
each other’s eyes, then both started for:
ward.
“Ain’t you Willis Bates?” the woman
asked eagerly. “I thought I knew you
on the train.” .
“Yes, and you are—or was—Alice
Durfee,” Bates said, no lesseagerly.
My! but I’m glad to meet you. Let me
see—«it’s eighteen years since I left the
old village, and I haven’t seen a soul
from there since. How are they all—
cousin, Bob‘Bates? Bob’s the only kin
I have, but he and I never did get on
well together. Oh, I beg pardon,” hur-
riedly, “I forgot.”
. “My'mother died ten years ago,” she
answered steadily. “After that I came
South. and have only been back once
since. Henry Taber had the post-ofiice
the last I knew, and Bob—”
There was a significant movement
across the platform, and Bates glanced
at his watch.
“It‘s time to get on board,” he ex—
claimed. "lVe’ll finish our talk in the
car.” '
But she drew back.
. “This isn’t my train,” she said. “I
wait here two hours."
“Really?” with sudden dismay in his
voice. “Why, I was counting on a good
long talk. Is Bob—your husband——
well?"
She looked surprised.
“I don’t know what you mean,” she
answezecl. "‘I have never married.’ 1
(2:21:25: South ten, years ago in search 01
work. and have been teaching school
ever since. But you’ll miss your
tin-.11.”?
it was already gliding.'d0\vn the plat-
f-~. m. but be neither noticed it nor" her
« in his eyes was an express
sum «yr untredulousinquiry.
‘flsu ("Ho-b Bates~———” ‘ ‘
\
8.
She motioneddmperiously toward the
train. , " '
“You’ll miss it,’.’ she cried again.
Then her hand dropped to her side.
“There, it is too late! Was it very im-
portant?” anxiously. .‘ ,
“Yes—no—that vis, I guess so,” he
answered indifferentl’y. ’ “A thousand
dollars, I believe.”
A man withthe emblematic S. R. on
his cap came down the platform, and
Bates called him with a. gesture.
“How long before the next train
north?” he demanded. \
“An hour and forty minutes.”
“Good!" turning to her with beam-
ingsatisfaction. “And you have to
wait two hours. That will give us
plenty of time to talk. Now,” with a.
strange eagerness in his voice, “do you
mean to tell me that you did not marry
Bob Bates the fall I left?”
"Certainly I did not,” wonderingly.
“I never married anybody, much less
Bob Bates. I never liked that man.”
“Strange, and he told me—————”
“What?” she demanded sharply.
“Why, that you were promised" to
him, and that—well, what he told me
was the cause of my leaving, and of
my not communicating with any one in
the old village during all these years.
And to think _” _
Here a truck load of trunks was
pushed rapidly toward them, and they
were forced aside. Bates caught the eye
of a waiting hackman and nodded. A
moment later the carriage stood beside
the platform, with the driver holding
open the door for them to enter.
“A station platform is no place to
talk,” said Bates. “Suppose we take a
drive through some of the quiet streets
of the city. We have plenty (if time.”
Then he looked at her with a new
thought in his eyes. “I didn’t see you
in the—” he began, then added hasti~
13', “you haven't had dinner, I sup-
rate I’ll get through in time for the -
your mother, and Henry Taber, and my ‘
pose?”
“No,” hesitating and flushing
I!
_ a little.
“I- .
“Oh, I understand,” quickly. “You
are like me and can’t put up with the
makeshifts of a railroad restaurant.
Now I'll tell you what," unblushingly,
“I’m about as hungry as a man can be.
There’s a nice hotel in back there
somewhere. We’ll go to that and have
dinner, and then we’ll-drive about the
city and talk until train time.”
There was hesitation and almost re-
fusal on her face, but feigning not to
notice it he urged her into the carriage,
then sprang in himself, and motion-ed
for the driver to close the door.
An hour passed, and then. a half
hour, and soon after a train rumbled
into the station and then rumbled
away. Twenty minutes more, and an-
other train arrived and departed. As
it disappeared, the carriage again
whirled up beside the station and stop«
ped.
“Has my train gone?” the woman
asked anxiously, as she reached the
platform. ' . '
Bates took out.his watch and looked
at it meditatively. ,
“I’m afraid it has,” he answered,
“and my train, too, with its possible
thousand dollars. We’ve been gone a
little over two hours. Driver,” severely,
“you ought not to have taken us so
far.” .
There was grave concern in his veice,
but in his eyes was a sly twinkle which
she did not notice.The driver twirled
his hat apologetically in one hand, but
into the other a generous tip had been
slipped, so 'he was silent.
“It is really too bad,” Bates contin-
ued sympathetically. “There is only
one more train out to-day, and that
goes towards Richmond. But I’ll tell
you what,” as though struck by a sud-
den solution. of the problem, “suppose
we take that. You know what . you
have promised me at the end of three
months. Now what is the use of wait-
ing that long? You have no people,
and I have none; and if you go back to
the school you have been telling me
about, it will be to unappreciative em-
ployers and at wages that will scarce
pay your expenses. I have a. good
house waiting for somebody to look af-
ter it, and more money in the bank
than I know what to do with. Now
my idea is forpus to go to a minister—
you know where a minister lives, don't
you?” to the driver.
“Yis, sorr,” grinning.
“And then come back and take the
train for Richmond. It is a very nice
r'ty, and you are bound to like it. How
:lces the scheme strike you?” 5.
Evidently it. struck her unfavorably,
mit even of a reply.
“Good!” he said beamingly. "Silence
means consent. Now we will drive
back to the hotel and write a couple of
letters. You tell theschool committee
that unforeseen circumstances prevent
your returning, and I will write that
the same kind of circumstances have
kept me from attending the sale.
Come.”
She parted her lips as though to pro~
test, and even tried to draw back, but
her heart waswith this man who had
been so much to her youth, and who
had returned, and in the end she en-
tered the carriage with him and‘the
door was again closed by the driver.
Two hours later the driver was
standing on the platform of the station,
watching the train rumble away ‘to-
ward Richmond. Not until it had dis-
appeared did he climb biick to his box
and drive toward home. Bridget, his
wife, was preparing supper when he
came in from the stable. ‘ ‘ ‘~
“Och, Pat,” she called in sudden ap-
prehension, “how come yez so soon? Is
it bad luck. ye’ve been havin’ the day?"
“Troth, no, Biddy," catching her in
his arms and swinging her about the
room. and then slipping a crisp new
ten'dollar bill in her hand. “That’s for
.the new clothes the childe'r .nade. Su’re,
an' it’s an illigant day I’ve been havinf.
gBesides that, Iive enough to pay the
l carriage rint ah’ the horses’ fade.”
c
or as something the astounding to‘ad- _
NEW YORK FASHIONS.
The thick winter coats and frock:
,which the children have been wearing
are nowtoo warm and cumbersome
for the daily runs in the-park and the
brisk walks to school and back. A
coat‘ that is sufficiently warm for
present wear, and that will be useful
for donning over a thin frock on cool
summer evenings is what is wanted.
For the child of three or four there
is a quaint little coat of reseda green
cashmere, with collar and cuffs of a
darker 'shade of velvet and trimmings
of velvet buttons and green cord. For
the school girl from ten to fifteen years
of age, the reefer costume is suitable
and stylish looking. It would be most
serviceable of navy blue serge, with
removable collar of violet or green
linen. A pretty brown or green serge
would, be uncommon and the collar _
could then be of white hem-stitched
lawn. ‘ \
A sensible school girls‘ frock of gray
vicuna, trimmed with braid, has a
yoke and belt of green velveteen and
fastens at the left side. An artistic
little gown for the small girl, could be
carried out in old rose .caShmere. with
velvet yoke, belt and sleeve bands.
This dress has quite a Kate Greenaway
effect, being short waisted. and is very
dainty for dressy wear. ‘
The little French blouse costume
would be pretty in either linen or
serge. A tabac brown linen, fashioned
in this style would make a smart frock
for school wear, if worn with remov-
able guimpes’ of tucked cambric or
. lawn. The buttons could be of linen
and the belt, which is held up at,.t_he
waist by means 'of na‘rr'OW strap:
stitched to the sides. of white kid.
The more upeto-date frocks for little
girls are worn. quiteshort. The little
maiden wearing the large hat, has her"
hair tied with ribbons on either side
of her head in the now modish style
Evening Walls: of Silk Crepe.
Crinkled goods and silk crepes bit
fair to be very popular for evening ant
theater wear. These, dainty material:
come in every imaginable color and
make up beautifully.
An effectivemodel of turquoise blue
crepe was out quite low in the neck,
the decolettage outlined with a full
I'
frill of the material from which de-
pended a ruffle of cream lace. The ma-
terial was brought in gathers to the
waist and confined with a belt of white
satin'ribbon; a bow of ribbon also
adorning the corsage just below the
left shoulder. Small puffs of the ma-
terial constituted sleeves.
Neat Walking Gown.
The first requirement of the‘ early
season is a smart walking gown which
will lock well in bright weather, but
not be so deizcate as to be spoilt by a
shower. A neat tailor-made gown is
the most suitable garment for this pur-
pose. and these are as popular as ever
DECORATIVE NEEDLE worm ‘A FAD;
SomeUseful and Pretty‘Noveltles in {the
Shape of Eome Made:Books.
It is always pleasant to find a new ob-
.ject upon which decorative needlework
can be displayed. and during the‘warm ,
weather particularly, fancy'work of all
kind appeals to nearly all women. Two
novelties which, have the additional
recommendation of being distinctly
useful as well as ornamental, are the
new manuscript books for cooking re-
cipes and the new blotting pads.
The former are nice, firm little
books, about the size of an ordinary,
blotting-case, and good lined-paper
pages, and thick enough to hold a gen-
erous supply of recipes; but it is with
the embroidered covers that we espec-
ially have to deal. The foundation is
usually made of art colored linen, and
in some cases the designs are simply,
floral, and very much like other fancy.
work; but the daintiest are decorated
with appropriate mottoes, such so
“Now good digestion wait on appetite,
and health on both,” “A feast should."
be without a "fault," “Bid them reg,
pare dinner,” or, more quaintly. éill.‘
“Too. many cooks spoil the broth." 0:
“How shall I feast him?” A recipe-
, book with the latter inscription upon:
it would be an excellent wedding pres-
ent for a young housekeeper. 3’, it
The corners and sides of these cov"
ers are filled in principally with ara‘
besquee or quaint devices. One of the
latter. which had three, conventional
fishes very cleverly worked in shad“
of pearly-blue flax, to represent the
scales, was particularly attractive and
pretty. - mm
V
l
The ordinary blotting pad is a use?
ful article, but when not in actual use
and lying with the soiled blotting paper
upwards, it certainly is not an orna-
ment to a dainty writing table. There-
fore a. good plan is to have a pretty
case into which the blotting pads can
be easily slipped, and to decorate the
back of it with artistic embroidery. '
No. extra “fussihess” is given to the
~ serviceable blottingapad by this cover,
but by simply placing it face down-
wards upon the table, the embroidered
‘ back comes fully into view, and instead
of a blemish, it becomes an additional
beauty.
For the decoration of these covers,
the favorite motto embroidery is again
very much in evidence, such sentences
as “Thoughts that breathe and words
that burn,” “With thee conversing I
forget all time,” and “The pen is migh-
tier than the sword." being particular.
1y appropriate.
The Benddres- Popular.
The headdress has apparently come
to stay. It is the rarest thing nowa-
days to see a. coiffure unaccompanied
by its forest of feathers, not to speak
of big bOWS of riben, flowers and
buckles. A pompon of tulle, with a
small paste ornament and one upris-
ing plume in the centre, is among the
latest novelties: in head adornment. An
erect triple spire of roses rising from a
bow of satin is another popular decor-
ation, as is also a gracefully arranged
aigrette of orchids and violets. Black
ospreys, mingled with diamond cres-
cents, are suitable for elderly women,
though they are worn by the youthful
likewise. Flowers are the’ newest,
though, and of flowers, 'scarlet gerani-
um and white, lilacai'e the acme“ of
smartness. Ostrich .plumes of the
gayest colors are in high favor, such-as
cerise, purple'and scarlet; Feathers
spangled with diamonds and frosted
leaves show the .tendency to combine
different novelties.
Spring Shades;
The spring shades of blue are Rm
man, hyacinth, silver. Napoleon, and
for morning wear,
A perfectly simple dress of good marl
terial, well cut and finished can be i
made to serve ’1 many purposes by,
changing the shirts and fronts with ;
which it is worn.land a smart chiflon'
vest is quite sufficient to render a plain
coat and skirt suitable for unceremon- 1
ions calls, especially when a stylish hat
is worn with, it; : A costume of black
and white Cheviot, with white broad-
cloth revers, makes a neat suit.
1
. cry this winter,
barbeau, or blue-bottle. The greens
are in manytints with fancifulltitles
that have clear emerald tints, and also
the deep Russian green, becomingto
so many women; Willow, the’gOIden
green’tint and Jeaf in three different *
shades. .Gismonda’ again appears, the
purple slightly deeper than that of Par- -
ma violet, and much like the amethyst
are plum shades that have been so
popular in costume ‘cloths and millin-
Norwalk Chronicler