The Exeter Advocate, 1897-7-22, Page 2A POET'S CONSTANCY,
Oh, praise is ever sweet to hear!
In simple candor I confess it,
,And then, 1 awe., 'tis doimly clear
When loving lips like yours express it.
And yet when calmly I reflect
Trow much is due to Cupid's blindness,
Xlorgile me, dear, if I suspect
Your praises only prove your kindness.
whatever virtues I may boast
(And slight, indeed, is my profession),
The one you praise and prize the most
May be the least in my possession.
A You call ma "constant" and revere
A mind so steady and unswerving,
But never poet yet, I fear,
Of such applause was quite deserving,
The post's constancy at best
Is like the bee's—voluptuous rover-
Still constant to his hooey truest,
Though found in apple bloom or closer,
,And do I thus my faith impeach
As one lintrue to love's vocation?
A moment's patience, I beseech,
And you shall hear my explanation.
Suppose the bee, so prone to stray
As fancy bids from bower to bower,
Should chance to find some lucky day
A, wondrous honey bearing Sower,
which, though she sipped and came again
Aa often as the day was sunny,
Quito unexhausted should remain,
An overflowing fount of honey.
Such praise as she might fitly claim,
If neer again she proved a rover,
So much (rhe eases are the same)
Ls due your fond and faithful lover.
—John G. Saxe in New York Ledger.
CONSCIENCE.
It was raining, not hard, but a soft,
Whispering downfall that blurred the
outlines " of tbe hills, crowned with
glory of deodar and rhododendron, and
hardly flecked the smooth surface of
the lake that they held between them.
The only two Europeans out in the
dreary afternoon were a young man and
a girl, who had sheltered under a rock
that overhung a hill path some 80 feet
above the water. The girl sat with
hands clasped round her knees, sailor
hat tilted over her eyes and damp hair
straggling about her forehead. She was
looking across the lake at the hills
above and beyond it, and the other,.
who, by his smooth young face, was
hardly more than a boy, was looking at
her, He had been playing polo. His
white breeches and long boots were
splashed and stained, and there was a
glimpse of a jersey under the covert
coat. He was thin and white, and his
eyes were anxious.
"You are always right," he said,
"and if you were not I should still be-
lieve in you. But—is the thing so im-
possible?"
"It is impossible," she said. "I dare
not do it. I dare not take the best of
you now, giving my base metal for your
gold and say, 'This is my portion -only
mine.' Do not mistake my meaning. I
love you as well as I am able, but the
mightiest Iove that I can produce is not
fit to be weighed in the scale against
pours. Tbis is not my fault; it ' is my
rnis.ortnne—the result, I think some-
times, of my upbringing. Thank God,
I can see nay limitations, and to tie you
to me now would be to cripple you for
Iife, and in the end to damn bothof us.
This is your first Iove, you say. It bas
been born too soon. It may not come to
fruition. Neither shall it be poured
out for nae, wlao am unworthy. Driven
back into your boart again, it will leave
the pun „ r you now expend upon- it to
be used to better purpose."
"You and I differ in our estimates of
you," he said. "'You paint yourself all
weakness, all hollowness, all contradie-
tion, ar_d yet litre to my power, as you
are teleestal to c -all it, you oppose a will
20 mute taal iueexible that nothing I
can do i11 a,'::nd it."
ettia , is Leeman I love you," she
said- —It is tit? utmost I can do—my
sorrels , : e. If I loved you a 1ittic:
les, if lay c y t s were not gifted for the
time. with fanstuner sight- But, there,
let t,s ea ea, sentimental considera-
tiel:s for a naauaent and think of what it
era aims fret. the worldly point of view.
Aren't eta:: tailless? Ana I not thrift-
less and dcedtele of that femininity -1
can't dean: it 1e:tt.r-teat most women
get as their l,irthright? There's a super-
ficial cleverness rness about me which you, in
your Lowest heart, admire, but how far
dces it take me to getting 16 annas for
my rupee or putting a tidy hem to a
ditihcioth? I can't worry over these
things in the approved housewifely fash-
ion, It's not in me. Trifles? No, those
are the rc:a:itiea of life. And, even
granting that love could teach me these
things—which I doubt—still you could
not do it. Wouldn't_ you have to leave
the reginitlat and give up your place
an: nr _ your equals and lose your rigbt
to > : meta know you for what you are?"
' i .an't put aside the consideration
thet I love you better than all these
things," lie said slowly. "It is the fin-
est regiment on eartb, I admit, but you
are the only woman. Well, yes, it world
mean poverty. That iswhy I am •a mad-
man to ask you to share it. But you are
not afraid of that,"
"Oh, yes, I anal" she said. "I am an
arrant coward in addition to my other
shortcomings.. Only I could do with it
because I have never known anything
better, You don't know what it is,
really. You bave a bother to meet your
bills sometimes, and that is bad, but
they are paid somehow, and you don't
have to do actually anything less than
what the others do—men who have
money and interest to set against your
brains. Given time and no millstone
round your neck, you will keep level,
and then you will begin to forge abeau.
It is bard for a man to rise by sheer
worth, but it is possible, only he must
have a free hand and no one to think of
but himself.
"But married— The aspect would
°bangs at once. And even though you
were still as good as other men, even
perhaps a little better, I : should know
what you bad missed, and why. Per-
haps it is that I ani too proud for you to
give up the best of your life for me.
That must be it Yes, I am too proud,"
"Why should we not wait?"
"Way, indeed? Well. sine° you must
have it, i; have pictured it often enough.
I have seen you in the flush of your
youth at the outset of your career—and
I believe that career will be a high one
—set down to wait for a distant happi-
ness. You don't see me. I am removed.
I see you, afraid to veuture this move or
that move—and yon know there are al-
ways risks in the life game—because
you are waiting. I see you dulled to
what is going on around you, dulledto
the present need and the present oppor-
tunity, because you are waiting.. I see
you waiting on without regret, and,
gradually, gradually, the spirit is sap-
ped out of you, the ambition to be any-
thing but as other men are. The fine
temper that is in you now is numbed,
and after that there retrains anediocrity,
whioh in you would be failure. And
for the man you should be there will
only be a somebody in the ruck, where-
as you were made for the van."
"I don't understand."
"No, that is my part, And then
again there is my side to look upon. I
am to go away from you and to be
without you for years and years. I shall
never forget you; I shall not cease to
love you; I shall always think of you
tenderly and hungrily, because I am
your love and you are mine. But, at
the same time, I am only myself, a
poor, patchy, iuoonsistent thing. Other
people stronger than I will come by and
influence me more because they are
nearer than you at a distance—not be-
cause they can dim the love for you,
understand.''
"Can you do without me?" he said.
She wrenched herself away and burst
into a wild fit of orying.
"Oh, my God, what a brute I am l"
he said. "My darling—listen. Ab, stop
crying. You make my heart bleed. I
cannot assent to what you say of your-
self, I cannot follow what you. say of
me. You are more sensitive than I; you
catch sounds and signs where I neither
hear nor see. But I have learned enough
to know that I only torture you by my
persistence, and that I do not move you
one inch from your position. It is your
wish that we sbould part, and so it
must be, and perhaps some day I shall
understand. I know that you are mak-
ing a great sacrifice and that it is for
me. You will forgive me if I cannot
yet see clearly wherein is the urgent
necessity. 'Yon stooped to me in your
condescension, you made me your lover
for always. I loved you—I worship
you, and I hold it to my honor to have
had your love."
He put his arm round her again and
drew her head down to his shoulder,
and her sobs shook him as they sat thus.
Presently the sobs became fewer, and.
then came only at long intervals.
She spoke at last.
"It must be. I am not worth it—not
worth your love. And you will be a
better lean—yes, and in the end a hap-
pier one. Believe in me if you will ,at
least it can do no harm now that we
are to be apart. Hold me close for a
minute, since it is the end. Oh, where
could the world show another such
lover?"
And from the future that was closing
down upon them she plucked the veil
savagely.
"1 am glad. Yes, I am glad to lose
you."
"You're tired. Suppose we sit it out
instead of dancing?" -
"Yrs, that will do," said the girl.
"I am tired,"
The music bad begun before the man.
spoke, and two or three couples swept
into the ballroom as he crossed it with
the girl on his arm. It was a stuffy
night, gemmed outside with the lights
of the street and of carriages moving
slowly before the entrance and crowded
within by a London semifashionable
thrcng, bent in a bored way upon amuse-
ment. The big hall, green with pafims
and dark with carved oak, was full of a
kaleidoscopio mixture of bright dresses,
expansive shirt fronts,babble of voices
and laughter, and beyond there was a
glimpse of the sapper room, starred
with lights and resounding with the
jingle of plates and glasses. The girl i
and the man walked through together
and down a corridor to a couple of
chairs in the shelter of a Japanese''
sere en. Opposite them a French window
framed a patch of garden 'hung about
with paper lanterns, and above that
Dame dusky tree tops and the stars.
The girl, who was the girl of the
hillside, leaned back in her cbair and
twisted a fan about with restless fin.
gers. Certainly at the moment she
looked tired. The man twirled bis mns-
tacbe up, first one side and then the
other. It was touched with gray, and
his hair was flecked, too, but his face
was that of a man in his prime—mas-
terful, square jawed and obstinate.
There was a deep line from nostril to
month corner, and his hands were
strong and shapely. He grossed his legs,
tilted his chair back until he could
watch the girl's profile without being
guilty of staring and spoke.
"I believe you wanted to speak to
lite?"
"People take it for granted that I am
--am—going to marry you. It is intol-
erable."
"Aha" He dropped his mustache and
tilted the chair back a little more.
"Why intolerable? I am told I am a
most eligible person."
She twisted the fan nervously.
"I dare say. I do not want to disonss
your eligibility. That is a matter which
does not concern me, What does concern
me is that I will not be made the sub-
ject of these rumors. You know'how
they conte about and where the remedy
lies.
"Said remedy being, of course, my
extinction, self produced? I know a bet-
ter one."
ion, and that suffices—for the present.
But still, you .take n—
interest, all the
califs.
"Isuppose so. Itis that you fascinate
me somebow, and your obstinacy fright-
ens I never met a man who VMS SO
little moved by my wishes and lily
words,
"Hsouse me. I shall have the great-
est pleasure in gratifying some of your
wishes."
"Meaning, if 1 want a toy out of a
shop window. My wish is that you take
`no' for an aiaswer and go away.
"And that is what I will not do. No;
I love you, and I am going to marry
you. Let there be no mistake about it.
My love may seem ratherbrutal—men's
passions are brutal under some condi-
tions -but it is a solid affair and it will
give you something firm to lean upon
and to stand by. You will find me a
fairly easy husband when you have real-
ized the futility of pouting at the in-
evitable. There is the tender side to my
love that will give you much, be proud
of you, cherish you and stiok to you.
I'm not a small minded person, and I
am wonderfully easy to deal with when.
I have my own way. That will not be
very difficult to give. It only wants-
you."
"But why—wby—why?''said the girt
"Why should I:give myself to you? Just
to please your passion? I am not much
of a woman, but I have a soul of sorts."
"Well, partly, I suppose. You don't
expect a man to make love violently to
establish platonic friendship, do you?
But I am not a brute, though I :am a
man. I bavewatohed you singe we met,
and I have got your aharaoter off fairly
well. You are undecided about most
things; you are obstinate in a weak
fashion; you have a supersensitive char-
acter that gives you a great deal of
pain, and the weapons with which you
essay to fight a rough worldout your
own hands when you use them. Come
to me, I will do the fighting. I will
lead, and instead of falling back on
your own judgment, too shifting to be
reliable, you will have me always be-
hind you to turn to. , As to the love,
that will come. I fascinate you, you
say. You take a fearful pride in the
thought that I am your lover, because
I am a lover in whom a woman may
well be proud. Yes, I don't care to
sham becoming modesty just now. And
that pride will father a love as strong
as most women bear to their husbands.
I don't disgust you; far from it. If you
will remember, I kissed you once, and
you'
"That is brutal,"
"No; it is only the truth, and this is
the time for plain speaking."
The conversation paused for a little.
The fan twirled on, and then said the
girl:
"Tbis is all very kind, and disinter-
ested of you, Ito doubt, but there are
plenty of other indecisive women in the
world sorely in need of backing. Go
and help them."
"As I said before, I love you; hence
the present situation. You don't see
why I should, for you axe not particu-
larly beautiful; you are stiff necked;
you are not at all domesticated. Well,
am so far in love that I can't consider
why, except it be that there is a barrier,
of unapproacbableness about you that I'
long to beat down. I want to stir you',
out of that cold blooded indifference!
that you affect. I do not believe in it
either, for you are not likely to have
Dome to your present age without there
having been some other fellow.".
She tamed upon him.
"Well, that is true; there was• an-
other man. He loved me with an un-
selfish devotion beside 'which this love'
of yours is unspeakable. He Left me be-
reanse he would not tempt me Against'
my conscience. Yon don't care a button
whether I violate my own sense of de-
cency or not.
"Extravagant° again," he said. "I
will °picot that peculiar standard of
yours and set up one better fitted for
wear and tear. He loved you unselfish-
ly, did he? 4o much the less man he."
"I will not let you speak of him. He
is dead to me, and holy for that reason
if for no other."
"Forgive me," said Unman, bending
tow.ard.her. "God knows I would not
hurt you for the world. If that nian
could love you as a. man loves and yet
conquer the mad longing that I have
now to hold you in my arms, he must
bave been very noble and worthy what-
soever you gave him."
"Hewes more than worthy. He was
too good for it."
"lac) man could be too good for that
rare senile of yours or for your kiss.
You would honor him beyond his de-
serts. Ah, Ivy sweetheart, do you think
I don't worship you too? You are the
sweetest, the dearest, the snow purest
of women, and you have all my hum -
age, all my Jove, all my desire to shield
you and help you. God knows I am no
saint, but I amu not afraid for this love
of mine, I never loved another woman
in this fashion. You want peace? Then
find it in my arms."
He held them out and bent toward
her. His eyes, that could be so hard
and unrelenting, were soft • and plead -
Gig now. They were alone in the dim
light of the corridor. There was no one
to sec or cap, and his face and attitude
asked plainer than words. A strong
man in. bis pride humbling himself to.
ask this thing from her! There passed
through her mind the vision of life
with him beside her—a life with some
high ideals shattered, perbaps, but with
many torturing doubts and difficulties
ended. What did it matter, -after all,.
the fantastic isolation she had striven
for? It was not good to be alone, and,
then, that passion might not stir her
love, but it thrilled the fibers of her
being as a woman.. Into the holy of
holies be might not penetrate --that was
closed forevermore -but he could fill the
outer room and absorb her storm tossed
spirit into' his, as the river absorbs the
brook.
""No, not" she said, pushing him
away. But the resistance was faint, and
lit another second his lips were on here
and in that contact, perforce, she, gave
"Oh, no; not stall -I am in love with the betrothal kiss, In the moment of de-
i Y`I o. „
"Don't be in too ranch of a burry with
that negative: Consider a moment. Is
it all due to my persistence and my con-
stant presence? Doesn't some of it come
from a casual interest that yott take in
ine, and that ' shows itself, as . these
things will, to a too observant world?"
"I am not in the least in love with
you, if that is what you mean."
teat she found time to learn that there.
was pleasure in the surrender. He put
bis arias around her and held her to him
strongly, sheltering her face with his
own and letting her heart throb against
Ills. Then he released her, and, in an-
other faroff supreme moment, she burst
into tears.
"My darling," he said tenderly.
"Choke bank the tears; this is not tbe
time or place. I will leave you for a
moment,"
He walked away toward the end of
the corridor, and she stood up, leaning
against the window and letting the
night air fan her burning face.
"And so it ends!" she said. "As I
feared—as I knew. Ob, my love, my
love, .you didwell to leave mel 'A little
bitterness, a little longing when we are
young, a little futile searching for work
—and then we go with the drove.' A
woman says that, and it is true. Who
can fight snch a one sided battle? Ob,
that I had been born anything but a
woman and any rather than in the pres-
ent time 1 A hundred years back I sbould
not have known; a hundred years hence
perhaps there will be something better
to safeguard us than a man's caprice.
As it is—and as I am"—
The man came back, He took her
hands in his and looked into her face.
"Poor child!" he said. "Never did
anyone torment you with kindlier inten-
tion. Don't bo afraid; I am not going
to touch you till you give me leave,
Your face is still tear stained a little.
Give me your handkerchief. I found
your sister in the hall. She is just going,
and you can slip away with Ler.I have
your cloak on the chair yonder. Don't
be afraid of what people may say; no-
body will think or talk this time—I
have managed that."
She stood quietly while he put her
cloak round her, fastened it with deft
fingers and put a lace wrap over her
hair, knotting it below the chin. Then
he looked at her wistfully.
"Perhaps you will give me a kiss of
your own accord?"
And, for answer, she lifted her face
to his like a child and kissed him sub-
missively. --London Sketch.
Care of the Mouth When 111.
When one is in good health, the
mouth needs no speoial care beyond
that of ordinary cleanliness. Indeed,
the secretions of the various glands lo-
cated in it act as disinfectants and keep
it sweet, But few, however, are so
healthy but they need to pay some at-
tention to this organ, and when one is
i11 with any serious disease this be-
coIes more and more necessary. One
physician has found it advantageous tc
have patients suffering with fever chew
ocoasionally some aromatic gum to
stimulate the secretions of the mouth
and wash out or destroy micro organ-
isms or fermentation going on there.
Another bas accomplished the same end
by having the patient phew some splin-
ters of fresh pine wood. Dr. Rosenfield
gives quite full directions for cleansing
the mouthunder such circumstances.
He says that "in children and very old
persons the less solid food taken the
greater should be the care with the
mouth. They should rinse it out several
times a day with lukewarm water con-
taining a little common salt, tincture
of myrrh or eau de cologne added to
stimulate secretion. ' When there is a
tendency to bleeding of the gums or
when the teeth are bad, a pinch of pow-
dered oric acid may be twice daily rub,
bed in between the lips and gums. Pa-
tients with false teeth should remove.
them when they cannot take solid, food.
"Patients with fever sbould Lave
something to drink—cold water ox
weak lemonade—at least every hour.
One must not wait till the patient asks
for a drink. Besides preventing dryness,
the fluid maintains the activity of the
glands and the wbole function of the
mucous membrane. Many patients are
prevented fromdrinking by a painful,
dry and cracked condition of the lips,
and therefore all feverish patients
sbould, from the commencementof
their illness, have their lipsrubbed sev-
eral times a day with Vaseline. In pro-
tracted cases of fever the mouth in ay
also be swabbed out with oil or greatly
diluted glycerin.—New York Ledger.
PICTURESQUE INTERIORS:
Cozy and Pretty Homemaking :as Carried
Out by Girl Bachelors.
Every girl bachelor who flooks to the
large cities for the purpose of studying
art, music or some other chosen profes-
sion is no longer satisfied to take up
her abode in a seccud or third rate
boarding house. She must have a home,
no matter how small and simply fur-
nished it may be. It is seldom that she
can afford more than two rooms, and
frequently only one, whioh mustanswer
for studio or rnusio room, bedroom,
dressing room and kitehen. Where two,
three or four congeuial friends oan ar-
range to live together in harmony they
can afford better and pleasanter quarters
than when ono or two are alone. A
writer iu The Decorator and Furnisher
tells of how every square inch of space
is utilized and of the many makeshifts
resorted to by tbese ambitious and en-
ergetic girls and women.
Pretty divans, which answer nicely
as beds at night, are constructed from
simple cots, with a fitted mattress on
top and covered with art denim, old
tapestry or brocade and piled high with
cushions and pillows. Flat top trunks
bave cushions fitted to the. top and neat
covers of pretty linen, chintz or denim
Captured by Schoolgirls.
At Columbus, 0., on one occasion
Grant, after shaking hands with the
crowd for three hours, was worn out,
and the committee of arrangements re-
tired him to some steps above the
throng, says an exchange, and stationed
General Wilcox and other officers along
the line to say the geueial would not
shake hands. Tbey bad just got to run-
ning on this programme when the girls
of the high school came througb, as
bright a cluster of pretty faces and fig-
ures as any man ever looked on.
As they came within sight of the
general a little miss in the lead began
to take off her gloves. General Wilcox,
with all the severity of military polite-
ness, said, "No, you can't shake hands
With the general," and so the word was
passed along, the other officers each one
saying to the girl, "You can't shake
bands with the general." But just as
she came to where the steps that she
must take began to descend she•beld up
her hand with an appealing. look to
Grant. He looked down at her face, in-
to her eyes and said to the committee,
"I oan't stand that, I can't stand that."
And he stepped down and shook hands
with the girl, and in an instant was lit-
erally overwhelmed with a _tornado of
girls. They not only shook his hands,
but jumped up to hiss him, kissed his
hands and fondled his hair, and for live
minutes all discipline was gone.
BO MEMADE DRESSING TABLE.
outlined in Roman floss or Boston art
silk, which reach to the floor and an-
swer nicely for tete-a-tetes.
A piece of Japanese fretwork over a
doorway or arch, from which bang pret-
ty draperies of agra or Siberian linen.
denim or some other material which
drapes gracefully, add much to the ap-
pearance of any room.
Where one room auswera the purpose
of three or four, two or three screens
Will be found most useful.
All sorts of ottomans can be con-
structed from small wooden boxes by
padding and covering with odds and
ends of corduroy, velveteen, cretonne,
chintz, denim or linen, A full flounce
usually reaches to the floor, or else it is
.covered tightly with the material anti
the edge finished with furniture gimp
bald inplace by brass headed tacks.
Casters should be fastened an the cor-
ners, The lid should be fastened so that
it opens and affords a receptacle for
shoes, slippers and rubbers. Others oan
be used for bolding old magazines and
newspapers.
The walls of many of these studios
are ornamented with Japanese fans and
other decorations.
Where one is short of closet room a
box proves moat useful, as any number
of dresses and other articles of wearing
apparel can be stored away in it.
.A. simple dressing table, illustrated
by the journal mentioned, shows the
possibilities latent in a dry goods box
and plentyof cretonne or other drapery.
Fixing a Price.
"What's that job worth?" they asked
the contractor.
"Well," he said slowly,"that de-
pends a good deal upon circumstances'
If , it was ordered , by an individual, I
should think that $100 would be about
the limit, but if done for : the oity or
county I'shouldn't think of charging a
bit lese than $850, with a clause in the
contract permitting me to make an ad-
ditional charge far extras."—Chicago
Post.
Weights arta Measures. ,
A table provided. for Good House-
keeping and approximately correct is
as follows: One pint of liquid equals
one pound. Two ;ills of liquid equal
one cup, or one-half pint. Two round
tablespoonfuls of flour equal one ounce.
Four cups of broad flour equal one quart,
or one pound. Oue cup of butter equals
one-half pound. One pint of butter
equals one pound. One tablespoouful of
butter equals one ounce. Butter size of
an egg equals two ounces. Ten eggs
equal one pound. Two cups of granu-
lated sugar equal one pound. Two and
one-half cups of powdered sugar equal
one pound.
Asparagus With Eggs.
Cut tender stalks into inch pieces and
boil 20 minutes, drain and put into a
saucepan containing half a teacupful of
melted butter. Heat to boiling, season
with pepper and salt, put into a baking
dish, break over the surface as many
eggs as there are persons to be served,
dust with salt and pepper and bake in
a quick oven until the eggs are well set.
A Convenient Combination.
A convenient combination which rec-
ommends itself is illustrated in The
Jewelers' Circular. This ,combination.
rOLDIi 5 SCISSORS.
Includes silver handled scissors and
knife. It is ingeniously arranged se
that it folds up for the pocket in 11
small, fiat case.
A WOMAN'S POINT OF VIEW,
Raising Church Funds - Jennie June's
Idea—Use#u1 Recipe.
I attended a bazaar last ,week held by
the ladies of one of the most prominent
churches in the city. It was a pretty
sight, and through it I may be able to
give one or two hints to some of my
readers who even now may be . in the.
tbrpes of preparation for a similar event
in their own parish. I saw a quaint but
somewhat true description of this meth-
od of raising ehuroli funds in a little
book purporting to be an auoient tome,
and which has not yet seen the light in
this country. It ran as follows:
"Now, tbia is. the manner in which
the temples are built. Having borrowed
money, they pray that they :may be
able to repay it, and for this purpose
beg money from all snob as come to
worship. And if each shows his humil-
ity by giving less than his ueighbor,
then, indeed, they resort to a strange
practice, for pretending to be mer-
chants, the naen and women worshipers,
having made articles for which there is
no use, sell them to such as do not de-
sire them, employing the fairest of their
women to allure the younger of their
men into purchasing thein at a great
cost. And in this manner the debt is
repaid,"
One or two of the articles which I
saw at the bazaar of wbiob I speak were
both useful and inexpensive, A copper
wire coat banger, the arms covered
with pale pink satin and inolosing oush-'
ions filled with fragrant sachet powder,
seemed to me to be something which
was at once dainty and serviceable. A
very inexpensive but convenient and
pretty thing was a bag for holding soil-
ed bandk;erobiefs. It was made of two
good sized embroidered handkerobiefs,
feather stitched all round before joining
with colored silk. They were stitched
together with the sewing machine, a
casing run a little below the top em-
broidered edge, and ribbon strings pat
through. I thought it .a very useful lit-
tle bag, as the small handkerchiefs of
the present day are very apt to be lost
among larger articles.
I became the happy possessor of a lit-
tle bag of a different description, but
even more useful. It was made of two
pieces of yellow satin two inch ribbon
each nine inches long, a' row of feather
stitching two incites from the top held
ahem together, and the sides being over-
sewed, formed 'a little bag whioh was
filled with shoe buttons. Three inches
below the first row of stitching there was
another row, and in the niche thus
made a large spool of linen thread was
placed. Below this, betweenthe two
fringed ends of ribbon, were two flan-
nel leaves embroidered with yellow
silk, and some very large needles were
stuck iu the upper leaf,. These leaves
wore, of course, the width of the rib-
bon and two and three inches long re-
spectively. With this little dot of yel-
low sunshine hanging on my mirror I
Multi be spared the pang that seizes the'
helpless when a shoe button suaps pre-
maturely.
Jennie Juno said something the other
day in her usual happy way that made -
an impression upon the mind and stuck -4
there, as truths often do, She was
speaking of some of her early literary
hopes :and fears and of the stolidity of
some of the men' with whom she came
in contact, and she said:
"But it a woman's inheritance to.
do the agonizing and repenting, the
doubting and weeping, for two. It was"
—referring to the incident of her story
—"like the first time a young husbaud
comes home at 2 o'clock in the morn -
Mg. Ile tumbles into bed unthinking
and unheeding. She has been the one to
bear the sickness at heart, the shame,
the despair. It has always been so; it
will always be so."
Mrs, Croly, the Jennie June of 50
years and mole, still retains her youth-
fulness of heart and enters into the ques-
tions of the clay with all the interest
and enthusiasm of early youtb.,
"You have entered into the fruit of
our labors," Mahe said, speaking of the
advance in the position and pc-eibilities.
of woman in the latter hall of the eeu-
tury. "You young writers these no con-
ception of the diihculties and prejudices,.
the jealousies and conventionalities,.
with which we had to contend 50 years
ago. Thank hciven, we have made a
straight path for you to walk in."
Do you ever have to take nauseous
medicines? I will tell you a way to
avoid the taste that is very simple and
satisfactory. Have a glass 'of water
ready at your hand. tlpon taking the
medicine, close the month immediatelyt
then begiia drinking the water. Tbela
taste will be at once washed away. If it
is possible to compress the nostrils at
the moment of putting the medicine
into the mouth, the taste will be praeti••
oaliy imperceptible.
Now is the season when the girl who
is inclined to freckle is in despair. She
bates to be forever shrouded in a thick
veil, the spring sun is so pleasant and
invigorating, but what is sheto do? I
should say leave the veil at home, wear
a shady hat, and if the freckles come,;
as come they.will, try the following:
preparation at night: Slice one pound
of cucumbers very fine and leave them
to soak for 24 hours in a pound of al-
mond oil and one ounce each of green
oil, white was and spermaceti. Strain
off the cucumbers and weigh the
ture. Add two ounces of essence of cu-
cumber, and if the mixture weighs less
than two pounds slice in more fresh,
cucumbers, leave another 24 hours,
strain and weigh again: The mixture
Amy bo warmed, but must not be active-
ly hot. Pour into a glass or china jar
and set away for use. MARY EARLE.
New York.
Brown wool lace grenadine is used
in a ladylike gown for visiting. The
material itself is brown, with a green
silk lining, The waist is made into a
basque with a frill of white lace put on
Very full, starting from a slash on the,
bust.' It is open a trifle at the throat.
The printed taffetas are just as popular
as they were, and they deserve to be, as
the colors are well ohoseu and applied,