HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Brussels Post, 1909-11-18, Page 2Rack to Life acid Love;
QR, WAITING! THROUGHWEARY
YEARS,
CHAPTER VL--(Cont'ci)
PI never heard a sick a thing in
all the days of my life, no, not since
I was a gal I --as a child like' you be-
ing so took in I And I don't see now
how it could a been. And I can't
hardly believe it I Why,how old be
ye I" •
"You know, I shall be—be—sit-
teen, next -next Christmas," sob-
bed Mario.
"Shill you, now? Haw time do
pass! And I was thinking as you
was about thirteen or fourteen.
The villain! But it was my fau't,
it wasn't your'''. What did you
know? It was my fau't as should
ft. took better care on ye. And so
he promised to own you for his wife
from the "first, did he, and kept.
puttin' it off 1"
"Yes ;" sobbed Marie,
"And he waited you to follow him
to the city, and leave me, slid he 1
and lie promised to own you there?"
"les."
"He wouldn't a kept his word,
ebild. ' Them devils never keep
tkeir word with a girl who trusts
them. They are liars, and sons of
the father of lies. The comfort is
they all go horn to their daddy at
last•"
"Oh, Granny, he is not as bad
as that. Hods not bat at all. He
wanted me to go with him, and I
wouldn't leave you," wept Marie.
"He wanted you to go to the
city with flim, diel 1}e, and you
wouldn't leave me? Well, you
'Shall both be suited, you and him!
You shall' go to the city and shall
got leave me. I'll go along of you.
'We'll go and hunt up my fine gen-
tleman, and make him do ye 3es-
tice ! Breach o' promise it be 1 And
very aggrawated at that! 'Dancin'
bears must pay for their airs.' And
be shall pay for hizzen too. If he
do acknowledge ye, you'll be a rich
'Oman and me too 1 An' if he don't,
it''il be thousands c' dollars out'n
his pocket and into you'n an'
mine I" mumbled the old woman.
Poor Marie I She had been very
much surprised and confounded by
her grandmother's unexpected and
hearty sympathy; but here was the
sad solution of the problem of her
conduct—cupidity. The hope of
thousands of dollars, that in either
case of acknowledged marriage or
breach of promise, would come into
Marie's possession, and practically
into her own—and of the external
decencies and comforts those thou-
sands would secure to her, and
Which in her estimation would be
splendors and luxuries.
How, she looked upon her grand-
daughter as a mine of wealth, and
busied herself in waiting on the girl
as the girl, until this night, had
waited on her.
She made Marie lie down on the
bed and rest, while she herself pre-
pared tea and toast whieh she per-
suaded her to take.
"Now you shan't go up and sleep
en that hard pallet in the cold loft.
You shall sleep with me," saicl the
dame as she replenished the Are to
keep it up all night, and then closed
up the Cottage, previous to retir-
ing.
A heavy load was lifted from Ma-
rie's conscience. She had confess-
ed to that one, to whom of all on
earth she was only responsible. And
she had been forgiven.
If that hard old dame could pity
and pardon her, would not the mer-
ciful Lord, much more 1 She pray-
ed and fell asleep, and for the first
time in many days, she slept sound-
ly until morning.
When she awoke, the sun was
Alining through the nncnrtained
window of the hut.. The old woman
was, or seemed to be, still asleep.
She arose very cautiously ,lest she
should awaken the old grandame,
and quietly dressed herself, made
hp the fire and put on the kettle.
The dame slept on.
She made the cora griddle cake
and put it on to bake. Took a
smoked herring from its stick and
put it on to broil, and then set the
humble table for two, and sat
down to wait.
And the creme slept on.
Not to waste time, while wait-
ing,
Marie took up her grandmo-
ther's knitting, and knitted for
about fifteen minutes. And still the
Chime slept on.
"She sleeps later than I ever
knew her to do," said the girl, as
site arose and went, to the bedside,
mid laid her hand softly on the
forehead of the sleeper.
With a srreanl he started back.
That forehead was ice-cold in.
death!
In a few moments she so far Over-
came her terror and repugnance as
to take the lifeless hand in her own.
But it nae as rigid as marble, and
omt!d not be moved from its posi-
tion,
Full of wild horror, Marie rae
from the houset and up the road
leading to the village, and accestet]
the first person she met, who hap-
pened to be a countryman.
The alarm was soon given, and
the hut was soon filled with the
poor neighbors. )
A physician was called, .who pro-
nounced the ease a death from na-
tural causes.
Then orders were given for a
cheap burial at the country's ex-
pense. This was adding humilia-
tion to sorrow in Marie's case, but
she could not heap it, for there were
not two dollars in the house, to meet
the costs of interment.
Two days after this,the body, of
olcl Granny Thompson was buried
and poor Marie was left alone in
the solitary hut.
She wrote to her lover in the city;
but whether he ever received that
letter is doubtful; that he never
answered it is certain.
Three more letters were written,
but they suffered the sante fate as.
the first.
Then Marie gave up writing, and
sat down in despair to await her
fate.
CHAPTER VII.
Awful days and nights followed
for the poor, deserted girl.
The dark clays of December were
upon her. Storms of rain and wind
and snow followed each other in
.swift succession. The road to the
village became impassable. She
was without money and almost with-
out food or fuel.
She had nothing left to eat but
a few potatoes, stowedin the bot-
tom of the cupboard, next the chim-
ney corner, as the warmest place
to keep them, from freezing.
Nor had she anything to make
her fire, except the brush wood from
the foot of -the mountain, which she
would go and collect whenever an
interval of the weather permitted
her to do so.
But oh I the days of misery and
nights of horror in that lone moun-
tain hut, with nothing to think of
but her wretched past and terrible
future !
Had it not been for the shameful
wrongs she had suffered, she might
now have been in a comfortable and
happy position as nursery gover-
ness to some of those children she
so dearly loved. And this would
have been an earthly Heaven to
her humble and loving spirit.
And even now, abandoned, as
she was, by the lover for whom she
had staked all, even now, if she
could have been pardoned and pit-
ied, and cared for, a little while,
by some good Christian woman, she
would have looked forward to her
maternity with humble, chastened
joy, and devoted her future Iife to
her child.
Yes, site would have been a good
mother.
But now, abandoned, scorned,
covered with contumely, until, driv-
en to despair and madness, she be-
lieved herself to be deserted equal-
ly by God and man.
Alone in her but by day and
night, for weeks and weeks, with
those demoniac thoughts to tempt,
and taunt, and phrensy her, who
can wonder at the tragedy that
soon followedI
I must get over this part of my
story as quickly as I can, for it is
too heart-rending for detail.
It was Christmas Eve, and the
ground was covered a feet deep with
hard frozen snow. The weather
was clear though very cold.
A farmer's wife, driving her own
little wagon, was going to the vile
lage that morning to buy some
cheap toys to put in her children's
stockings that night.
As she passed along the narrow
road that lies between the foot of
the mountain ridge and the edge of
the river, she came in sight of the
hut under the cliff, occupied by Ma-
rie Serafinne.
And at the same moment, she
saw that no smoke issued from tfie
chimney, even on this bitter cold
day, and she heard sounds of wild
weeping and wailing proceecling
from the house.
Mrs. Butterfield was, "after the
most straitest sect a (female)
Pharisee," so, though she drew up
her horse before the hut, she hesi-
tated and listened a full minute be-
fore she made up her mind to enter
the dwelling of that "abandoned
creature," as she called Marie.
But these wore Christmas times,
and full of all kindly inspirations.
So she got out of her cart, and
leaving her steady, old family horse
to stand and rest, she entered the
hut.
A terrible sight met her eyes!
Made erafinne sat up in bed,
raving, tearing het hair and accus-
Pla. het•gojf Of—Murder!
efore her lay the small body of
a perenaturely born child.
• The poor little corpse was ir,zen'
stiff. The miserable mother was
blue and shaking with cold. for
there wee no fire on the hearth, end
the bitter winds eame in at the
cracks in the walls and whitlows"
"Ohl you wretebed, wret liel
of esaitl;e 1 how eame yon to do tike
dreadful, dreadful deed 1 Inuit'.
ed the farmer's wife, aghast at the
sight,
"I don't know I I didn't mean to
do itl I didn't even know when 1
did it 1 But then, l host have dans
it, because then: was no one else
here, not a soul but me, so of ennrse
I must have done it! Oh, me! I
wish I lead never been born 1" ex
claimed -Marie, ' between her wild
wailings.
"Of course you did it, and them's
no use cieilying it! Oh, you horiid
creature I Don't you know they'll
hang you for it1" asked the we-
man with a shudder,
"Yes, yes, I know ! Bub that's a
trifle! I've borne so much e +rse
than that! But my child! my ehilel!
My tiny, helpless child 1" she mild,
bursting into tears.'and sobs as;;.be
seized and pressed the little frozen
body to her bosom..
"I can't stand this I I can't stay
here..!" said the farmer's wife, be-
ginning to feel deep pity mingle
with, her indignation and horror,.
and becoming half hysterical from
their conflict. "Here I lie down an 1
let me cover you up, for goodness
sake! And tell mo, if you can,
where I can find something to kindle
a fire, or you will freeze and die
before you can make your peace
with Heaven."
And without waiting for a reply
she forcedthe feeble girl back up -
0o the pillow, and covered and
tucked her up carefully,
Then she took the little frozen
babe and laid it out decently on a
corner of the foot of the .bed, and
took her own white apron and cov-
ered it over.
By this time her fingers were so
stiff with cold that she had to bee:
and blow them, before she could do
anything else.
She then turned about and found
a little pile of brushwood, and a
box of matches with which she mail;
a fire. Then she searched for meal
cr flour with which to prepare gruel
for the perishing girl on the bel.
But there was nothing of the sort
to be found,
"Is there anything in the house
I can fix you to eat l" she inquired,
coming to Marie's side.
"Nothing, nor do I want any-
thing," the girl answered feebly.
The farmer's wife groaned.
"I don't know what to do with
you; but I reckon I better go at
once and see if I can get you a doc-
tor, and some victuals. Now you
lay quiet till I come Lack," she
said, as she' hurried out of the
house and jumped into her wagon.
She whipped up the old horse to
a gait that made him stare. And
she soon reached the village, when
she gave information of the case to
old Dr. Barton, the only medical
man at hand.
Then, after hurriedly picking up
the toys she had first set out to bay,
she purchased some food and hurt i -
ed back to the hut to feed the ata ru-
ing girl, whom, however, she c'utld
scarcely prevail upon to eat.
She waited beside the patient un-
til the old doctor came, and then
she returned to her own family,
with the promise to send one of her
negro women to take care of Marie
Serafinne.
On seeing the condition of effti rc
at the hut, 1)i•. Barton's palufut
duty was clear before him first, to
do what he could to sate the wrc.:li-
ed girl, and then to report the ease
to the proper authorities.
And the result of his action was
this—that the same day at noon,
the Coroner's jury met at the hut,
and after a brief examination of Mei
evidence, returned a verdict that
the child, a prematurely horn fe-
male infant, came to its death by,
stsngnlation at the hands o1 its
mother, Marie Serafinne.
The little body was interred at.
the cost of the county. And a war•
rant was issued for the arrest ofe
Marie Serafinne.
And in a state, mere dead hitt S
alive—indifferent also to iife ora
death, she was taken from her bec1,1
placed in a carriage, and driva,i to
the ceringaol ad at Pine , C'.Iriff
s.
Fur thefilet week of her imprrs
onetime she lay lingering on titer
brink of the grave. but by the skill
g
of the prison ductus :she was irrouoht1
safely through the crisis of her In
DOSS.
On the first day of the New Veer
she awoke from long unconscious-
ness, and asked what day it was.
They told her it was New Year's
day.
She played idly with her thin fin-
gers for a few moments and t u,n
murmured :
"Only eight months, and all this?
I was free and happy in May—now
I am hero!"
No one answefes] here there was
indeed little pity for Tres.
She lay in prison from the last
week in December; till the first
week in March, when the Criminal
Court sat at Pine "lgff.
Then she was b. ;Iii out and
put en trial for the .uurder of her
child,
(To be cent:mued,)
LOTS1
'there are lots of people
About the town
Who act so uppish,
They should bo called down,,
Ort the Farm
TH11 FAZ"rENING 01' SWI
No definite rule can he laid down
ss to the best time and manner to
fatten hogs or at what age, One
must be governed by Conditions and
surroundings. Remember that the
nearer we can grow what the mars
het wants, the better our cltanoee
to sell at a higher pride, and the
nearer we have it to sell at the time
that the market wants it the better
market we have. From. an article
in Kimball's Dairy Farmer, on the
subject of Fattening Hogs, we _not
the followings
The age at which a hog should be
fattened will depend more or less
upon the market demands and the
locality. As a general rule in this
country the fat or Lard hog has
been the most popular. . When such
hogs is the case it is better to mar-
ket hogs at the weight of from 300
to 400 pounds. These seem to meet
with the most.. popular favor of the
buyers. In other sections of the.
country the bacon type of hog is.
preferred over the fat or lard hog.
Tho best weight for the bacon hog
is between 100 to 200 pounds. They.
do not require to 'be nearly as fat
er the fat or large hog; still, on the
other hand the bacon hog is by no
means a thin animal. It should
have a covering of about one inch
of fat over the back.
We always 'thought it -best not to
feed a hog longer than really nec-
essary to get him to market pro-
perly. The earlier age we can get.
a hog to the market the -more pro-
fit we are going to make. With ref-
erence to age the article contipues
Where the bacon hog is desired,
as a general rule it will be found
most profitable to have the hogs
fattened and finished for market at
about five and a half or six
months of age. Where the fat or
lard hog is desired, the most pro-
fitable age to market in order to
meet the requirements of the mar-
ket would be about eight ,to ten
months, Hogs of this age should
weigh in the neighborhood of 300
to 350 pounds. As a general ,rule,
however, it maye be stated that the
greatest and ` especially the most
economical gains are made on the
younger animal.
The season of the year. has some-
thing to do as to how long to hold
hogs on feed. The kind of weather
varies the gains. The writer con-
cludes:
Generally speaking the most eco -
time to breed bacon bogs
is the early fall of spring months.
The weather is then not too cold
nor too warm, in fact, about right
for the best gains, In real cold
weather a considerable amount of
feed is used for the production of
heat to supply the beat required
fc-r the maintenance of the animal
body.
In the real warm weather, on the
other hand, a considerable amount
of feed may be wasted. W'Vhere two
litters a year are to be reared it will
be found best to fatten the first
bunch and market them during the
month of September and October.
The second litter should be fattened
and ready for market some time
during the Latter part of March or
the month of April,
.-.r
BLOATING.
Bloating is a very dangerous ail-
ment but not a disease. Cattle are
apt to be afflicted with bloat when
turned out on to new clover cover-
ed with dew. -
Bloating may 'be known by a
swelling of the left hank. This swel-
ling rises above the level of the
backbone and when tapped with the
finger sounds like a drum.
The animal should be tied up and.
compelled to stand ,with its front
parts from six to twelve inches
higher than its hind parts.
It should be given a laxative and
tonic to prevent the fermentation
of food and stimulate digestion.
There is great danger of the animal
smothering before it can be reliev-
ed. It is for this reason that a cat-
tle tracer should be kept on hand
but should not be used excepting
as a last resort.
It is advisable to prevent bloat-
ing in cattle. This can be done by
medicating the salt and placing it
where the cattle' Hass in going to
and from the pasture.
It islse advisable to keep the
cattle scut up until the dew is off,
providing it is fresh, young °lover.
—Dr. David Roberts.
THE IDEAL DAIRY COW,
The dairy cow is too frequently
misuude}stood, Too many look up.
on a dairy cow as one giving alit
tle milk. She should be looked up
cr1 its a u-devell rack„1ing for
taking the his pro yc s l the lead
and converting them into immediate
remunerative returns. 13'arm srs
should learn that tthhey o nngt af•
ford to keep peer b&1 s on land val.
nod at $123 and $1211 air acre. It
cost too much to supply the net•
cessary feed. In order to know a
good cow, no mutter how large the
herd, a careful record .should "ba
kept of each cow. All food given
v
I MO
1
NEEDED IN EVERY I10►NIE
It is beef in pure, concentrated and most
palatable form, and is assimilated immediately
you drink it. Ordinary foods require hours for
digestion.
When your brain is tired — when your daily
duties seem too heavy when your appetite is
capricious BOVRIL is better for you than any
medicine.
r -
Per DISTEMPER 1 S T E M P E 0hIDP ag r.y68
k Eye. Epizootic,
d Catarrhal raver
Sure cure and positive provcntive, no matter how horses at any ago aro
Infected or "exposed." Lipoid, given on the tongue; acts on the Blood and
Glands, expels the polsonana germefroin the body. Cures Distemper In Doge
and Sheep and Cholera In Poultry. Largest selling -livestock remedy. Cures
La Grippe among human beings and 1s a fine Kidney fomedy. SOs and 81 a
bottle; $6 and $11 a dozen. Cut this out. Keep It. Show to sour druggist,
who will got it for you. Pre* Booklet, " Distemper, Causes and Cures:,
DISTRIBUTORS—ALL WHOLESALE DRUGGISTS
SPOIIN MEOICAG ,CO„ Cbemiets' pod "eaiteribloyIels, GOSHEN, eta., 11.5,11.
her should be weighed, and all milk
taken from her should also .be
weighed, and the margin of either
profit or loss should bo determine]
at once.
TWE1TY-SIX 111 A.1) E CANDY.
lint Only Twelve Girls Knew .How
to Bake Bread.
An interesting examination was
held recently in. a Massachusetts
High School. , Twenty-six girls,
members of the same class, wore
given a list of thirty questions.
These questions bore reference to
the girls knowledge of household
duties, and the answers proved de-
cidedly entertaining. Twelve of
the twenty-six said they could make
bread, eighteen could make, cake,
and all could make candy. Twenty -
I two girls had built a kitchen fire,
twenty had cooked beefsteak and
twenty asserted that they had pre-
pared a full meal. It is disappoint-
ing to learn that not one girl of the
entire twenty-six knew why new
bread is not a healthful article of
food, per could twenty-four- of
them tell what a trap to a sink is.
The making of starch was under-
stood by, twenty of the class, and
sixteen said they could iron their
collars and cuffs. Twenty girls
could mend their clothes—at least
that's what they claimed, and sev-
enteen had made shirt waists. Sev-
en of the seventeen had trade but
' one shirt waist, but there was one
girl in the °lass who had made fif-
ty When it came to trimming
effect on the country,as well as on
the tourist trafi<n, on which a great
number. of the poor people in the
country districts have to depend for
a living.
"Her Excellency will at once see
what an effect it may haveon stran-
gers when they are told that the
country' needs such action on the
part of the Viceroy's wife."
Mr. John Raymond, moving the
resolution, said ho desired to see
consumption wired out as much as;
her Excellency, but there were in-!
stances in the city of men being de-
privod of their employment in con•
sequence of all that bad been said
in connection with 'this crusade,
carried on by the people who were
the tools of the British Government.
There was a factory in the city,
where, in consequence of the .cru-!
Bade, people were losing their em -1
ployment-daily if it became known'
that they bad the faintest taint of
Consumption:
Mr. Anderson, who seconded the
resolution, said that Irish girls
would not be employed as servants
in England owing to the effect. of
this crusade.
Mr. Mullett also said that such
crusades were detrimental to Irish
people. An Irish girl in London
could not now get a situation if she
had a pale face.
The Chairman (Mr. John Scully,
J. P.), said the board, instead ofj
passing the resolution, should give
Lacly Aberdeen every assistance. ;
Be considered they owed her a debt
of gratitude for all she had done
since she came to the country. As'
.hate there were thirteen girls who to the tourist question, he was of
knew bow, and thirteen who didn't opinion there was never so large an
influx of visitors as this year.
Twenty-three voted for the reso-
lution, and eleven against.
The members who voted do not
number half the membership of the
board.
know and hadn't tried to learn.
The principal of the school
framed this list of questions and
considers the answers a, fair e pg-
sition of the domestic knowledge of
the average High School girl. He
asked the questions with a definite
object in view. He wanted to be
certain that domestic science was
an advisable addition to the school
studies. After the answers to his
thirty questions were thoroughly
considered he admitted that there
would be no delay in establishing.
the new eourse. Perhaps it was
diplomatic on the part of the prin-
cipal to avoid all mention of the
true cause of the ignorance of the
class as a whole—lack of home
training and home encouragement.
—
CONSUMPTION CRUSADE.
South Dubiin People runt Lady
Aberdeen to Stop.
A.-romarkable discussion in refer-
ence to Lady Aberdeen's organized
movement and speeches against tu-
berculosis in Ireland took place re-
cently at a meeting of the South
Dublin Board of Guardians, at
which the following resolution was
adopted :—
"That we respectfully ask her
Excellency the Countess of Aber-
deen to diseontinue her consump•
tion crusade, as to continuo such
a course would have a very serious
TURTLE 'WORSHIP.
At a place called Rotron on the
French Ivory Coast the natives be-
lieve that to cat or destroy a turtle
would mean death teethe guilty ono
or sickness among the.faniily, says
the London Globe. The fetich men,
of whom there are plenty, declare
that years ago 0 man went to sea
fishing. In the night his canoe was
thrown upon the beach onipty.
Three days afterward a turtle eame
'ashore at the same place with the
roan on its back alive and well.
Since that time they have never
eaten or destroyed one of that
species, although they enjoy other
species. If ono happens now to be
washed ashore there is a great cont-
motion in the town. First the wo-
men sit down and start singing and
beating sticks, next a small piece
of white cloth (color must be white);
is placed on the turtle's back. Food
is then prepared and placed on the
cloth, generally plantains, rice and
palm oil. Then amici a lot more
singing, dancing and antics of the
fetich people it is carried back into
the sea and goes on its way retak-
ing.
Ilh.�'���'+i»hi��t'a•.l„�,�l..i..�„e•.y:ru+�i�l
Fashion
1nts.
+'t -'*-- ,.t..p f ,i..p,*„t,,.;.,y f•,f, p,f..f„{ .
SEEN IN PARIS SHOPTS.
Hat shapes in Paris are hummer.,
able, but they can be roughly
grouped under four or five types..
Individual lines, of course, crop
out, and extreme' styles aro` always
favored by radical 1'ronoh women.
but, as the days go on, the prevail-
ing i.doas which were launched a
few weeks ago in millinery form are
toned down and chastened into less
oonspieuoiis, but just as chic,
styles.
One Parisian turban is a folded
or swathed hat resembling the pic-
tures or oriental rulers. This shape
is worked out in velvet for street
wear. The soft material fits the
head closely and is held in place at
the front or side by heavy jeweled
ornaments. Gauze, lace and tulle
are used for theatre wear, and
sparkle out in transparent filmi-
ness in many audiences.
The Cossack turban is much heav-
ier and larger, and generally em-
ploys one material for the over-
topping crown and another for the
brim. It is favored in an attrac-
tive black and white form of bea-
ver and velvet.
There is a new color, "burnt
bread,” which is rivaling the light
and dark violets in the fashionable
spectrum.
Each designer is turning the
brim of the three -cornered hat in
a different way. Our Paris mil-
liners seem to exploit their own
tilts, poises and lines when they
send out this well -liked inodel. A
wider brimmed form is gaining fa-
vor. These. days the cavalier hat
turns up less brusquely than in the
summer time. A long, nodding os-
trich plume is, perhaps, the most
popular adornment. These are the
favorite walking hats.
Very long coats are appearing' on
the boulevards these autumn days.
They have large rolling collars and
cuffs, and bands of fur are used to
edge the skirts of the suits. But
some French modistes insist upon
giving a little woman a chance, and
odd little short -coat suits have been
exploited. They are made of two
materials, which is a feature of au-
tumn modes.
One model has a short-bascmed
coat of woollen material, which fits
the figure closely. A.girdle of sup-
ple black satin is knotted at the
back. Velvet buttons, a velvet -
faced collar and a black satin cra-
vat complete the coat detail. The
skirt is in two sectioas, the lower
part velvet, the upper part of wool-
len goods. btitching marks the line
where the materials join. This
French idea ought to give a lint to
the owner of a . velvet dress too
worn to be used in its entirety.
Quaint, short -length 1830 dresses
are charming frocks for the clebut-
ante. Ruffles of lace over net. stif-
1 fened at the edges with ribbon
quillings, reach from Trent to knee.
Nearly all. evening ch esso$: - aro
draped in such a a ay that long
lines aro retained, while soft full-
ness is kept near the lower part
of ski
Mtheoire, inrts. its soft form, is exceed-
ingly popular for long coats. It is
used to cover evening gowns, is
combined with fur for street wear,
and is lovely when, as an outer
coat, it appears in the same color.
as the afternoon gown, underneath.
1 Smart belts of suede and glossy
loather are displayed in little shops.
• There are also magnificent metal
ones of barbaric designs wliieli, in
their jeweled beauty, flash out from
white broadoloth walking suits.
Margarine Lacroix is showing
wonderful fur -trimmed evenialg
I gowns. A crinkled velvet is the
i foundation of a dull, greenish bine
1 coettime, trimmed with narrow
bands of fur and a fringe of dull
silver balls. A silver metal girdle
encircles the waist, in which green
and blue stones are set. It is a
lovely, restful color in the galaxy
of pinks, yellows and glistening sil-
veis and golds which flash out in
the evening lights.
There has-been a great revival of
old-fashioned cloths and zibeline,
. very closely cut, will figure largely
in walking suits -•.-together with a
wide -wale cheviot and camel's-hair
cheviot. The more drossy materi-
als-include
ateri-alsinclude a new and more beau-
tiful crepe meteor, cashemire de
L and some very beautiful silk.
serges.
The world respects a thief more
than a 'dead beat—and yon know
what it thinks 0f a thief..
A man's descriptive ability usu-
ally goeslamewhen he attempts to
describe a woman's hat and gown.
The Questioner -1'I hear his wife
is a brunette, bet I was under the
impression he married a blonde.”
The 3oker--"He dict, but the
dyed."
Lady "You loolr robust, Are
you equal' to the task of sawing
wood I", Tramp--"Yquei, isn't the
word, inar It1' i . superlea to it.
aced-reorniu I"-
Elderly tnebelor•--Whatc baldalread
.Or