Daily Greencastle Banner and Times, Greencastle, Putnam County, 12 April 1897 — Page 3

THE DAILY 3ANNEH TIMES, GI1EENCASTLE, INDIANA.

talmage s sermon.

buin and restoration, last

SUNDAY’S SUBJECT.

Si

w

“Tlien Went I Up In the by the llrook ami Viewed the Wall, and Turned Hack and lOtilered by the <iate of the Valley" Nem. ^:15.

DEAD rity is more suggestive Lhan a living city — past Rome than present Rome—ruins rather i than newly frescoed cathedial. But the best time to visit a ruin is by moonlight. The Coliseum is far more fascinating to the

traveler after sundown than before. You may stand by daylight amid the monastic ruins of Melrose Abbey, and study shafted oriel, and rosetted stone and mullion, but they throw their strongest witchery by moonlight. Some of you remember what the enchanter of Scotland said in the ’‘Lay of the

Last Minstrel:”

Wouldst thou view fair Melrose aright, Go visit it by the pale moonlight. Washington Irving describes the Andalusian moonlight upon the Alhambra ruins as amounting to an enchantment. My text presents you Jerusalem in ruins. The tower down. The gates down. The walls down. Everything down. Nehemiah on horseback, by moonlight looking upon the ruins. While he rides, there are some friends on foot going with him, for they do not want the many horses to disturb the suspicions of the people. These people do not know the secret of Nehemiah’s heart, but they are going as a sort of body-guard. I hear the clicking hoofs of the horse on which Nehemiah rides, as he guides it this way and that, into this gate and out of that, winding through that gate amid the debris of once great Jerusalem. Now the horse comes to dead halt at the tumbled masonry where he cannot pass. Now be shies off at the charred timbers. Now he comes along where the water under the moonlight flashes from the mouth of the brazen dragon after which the gate was named. Heavy-hearted Nehemiah! Riding In and out, now by his old home desolated, now by the defaced Temple, now amid the scars of the city that had gone down under battering-ram and conflagration. The escorting party knows not what Nehemiah means. Is he getting crazy? Have his own personal sorrows, added to the sorrows of the nation, unbalanced his intellect? Still the midnight exploration goes on. Nehemiah on horse-back rides through

all ages has been the type of the Church of God. our Jerusalem, which we love just as much as Nehemiah loved his Jerusalem. The fact is that you love the Church of God so much that there is no spot on earth so sacred, unless it be your own fireside. The church has been to you so much comfort and illumination that there is nothing that makes you so irate as to have it talked against. If there have been times when you have been carried into captivity by sickness, you longed for the Church, our holy Jerusalem, just as much as Nehemiah longed for his Jerusalem, and the first day you came out you came to the house of the Lord. When the Temple was in ruins, like Nehemiah, you walked around and looked at it, and in the moonlight you stood listening if you could not hear the voice of the dead organ, the psalm of the expired Sabbaths. What Jerusalem was to Nehemiah. the Church of God is to you. Sceptics and infidels may scoff at the Church as an obsolete affair, as a relic of the dark ages, as a convention of goody-goody people, but all the impression they have ever made on your mind against the Church of God is absolutely nothing. You would make more sacrifices for it to-day than any other institution, and if it were needful you would die in its defence. You can take the words of the kingly poet as he said: “If I forgot thee, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget her cunning.'' You understand in your own experience the pathos, the home-sickness, the courage, the holy enthusiasm of Nehemiah in his midnight moonlight ride around the ruins of his beloved Jeru-

salem. » * *

Again. My subject gives me a specimen of busy and triumphant sadness. If there was any man in the world who had a right to mope and give up everything as lost, it was Nehemiah. You say, "He was a cup-bearer in the palace of Shusban, and it was a grand place. So it was. The hall of that palace was two hundred feet square, and the roof hovered over thirty-six marble pillars, each pillar sixty feet high; and the intense blue of the sky. and the deep green of the forest foliage, and the white of the driven snow, all hung trembling in the upholstery. But, my friends, you know very well that fine architecture will not put | down home-sickness. Y'et Nehemiah did not give up. Then when you see him going among these desolated streets, and by these dismantled towers, and by the torn-up grave of his father, you would suppose that he would have been disheartened, and that he would have dismounted from his horse and gone to his room and said: “Woe is me! My father’s grave is torn up. The temple is dishonored. The walls are broken down. 1 have no money with which to rebuild. I

the fish gate, by the tower of the j wish I had never been born. I wish furnaces, by the king's pool, by the I were dead.” Not so says Nehemiah. dragon well, in and out. in and out. Although he had a grief so intense that until the midnight ride is completed, it excited the commentary of his king,

and Nehemiah dismounts from his horse, and to the amazed and confounded and incredulous body-guard, declares the dead secret of his heart when he says: “Come now, let us build Jerusalem.” “What, Nehemiah, have you any money?" “No.” “Have you any kingly authority?” “No.” “Have you any eloquence?" “No.” Yet that midnight, moonlight ride of Nehemiah resulted in the glorious rebuilding of the city of Jerusalem. The people knew not how the thing was to he done, but with great enthusiasm they cried out: “Let us rise up now and build the city." Some people laughed and said it could not be done. Some people were infuriate and offered physical violence, saying the thing should not be done. But the workmen went right on, standing on the wall, trowel in one hand, sword in the other, until the work was gloriously completed. At that very time in Greece, Xenophon was writing a history, and Plato was making philosophy, and Demosthenes was rattling his rhetorical thunder; hut all of them together did not do so much for the world as this midnight, moonlight ride of praying, courageous, homesick, close-

mouthed Nehemiah.

My subject first impresses me with the idea what an intense tiling is church affection. Seize the bridle of that horse and stop Nehemiah. Why are you risking your life here in the night? Your horse will stumble over these

! yet that penniless, expatriated Nehei miah rouses himself up to rebuild the city. He gets his permission of ab- ! seuce. He gets his passports. He lias- | ! tens away to Jerusalem. By night on j horseback he rides through the ruins. | : He overcomes the most ferocious oppo- , sition. He arouses the piety and patriotism of the people, and in less i than two months, namely, fifty-two days, Jerusalem was rebuilt. That's j what I call busy and triumphant sad-

ness.

j My friends, the whole temptation Is with you when you have trouble, to i do just the opposite to the behavior of j Nehemiah, and that is to give up. You I say: “l have lost my child and can 1 never smile again.” You say, "I have I lost my property, and I never can rei pair my fortunes.” You say, "I have i fallen into sin, and I never can start

again for a new life." If Satan can you penniless? Nehemiah was 1 make you form that resolution, and Are you homesick? Nehemiah

would find a monument with “Walter'' Inscribed upon It,

wreath of fresh flowers around the name. I think there was not an hour in twenty years, winter or summer, when there was not a wreath of fresh flowers around Walter’s name. But the Christian mother who sent those flowers there, having no child left. Sabbath afternoons mothered ten or twenty of the lost ones of the street. That is beautiful. That is what I call busy and triumph, .it sadness. Here is a man who has lost his property. He does not go to hard drinking. Ho does not destroy his own life. He comes and says, "Harness me for Christian work. My money's gone. I have no treasures on earth. I want treasures in heaven. 1 have a voice and a heart to serve God.” You say that that man has failed. He has not

failed he has triumphed!

Oh, I wish I could persuade all the people who have any kind of trouble never to give up. 1 wish they would look at the midnight rider of the text, and that the four hoofs of that beast on which Nehemiah rode might cut to pieces all your discouragements, and hardships, and trials. Give up! Who is going to give up, when on the bosom of God he can have all his troubles hushed? Give up! Never think of giving up. Are you borne down w r ith poverty? A little child was found holding her dead mother's hand in the darkness of a tenement house, and some one coming in, the little girl looked up, while holding her dead mother's hand, and said, "Oh, I do wish that God had made more light for poor folks.” My dear, God will be your light, God will be your shelter, God will be your home. Are you borne down with the bereavements of life? Is the house lonely now that the child is gonf»? Do not give up. Think of what the old sexton said when the minister asked him why he put so much care on the little graves, in the cemetery- so much more care than on the larger graves, and the old sexton said, “Sir, you know that ‘of such is the kingdom of heaven,’ and 1 think the Savior is pleased when ho sees so much white clover growing around these little graves.” But when the minister pressed the old sexton for a more satisfactory answer, the old sexton said, “Sir, about these larger graves, I don't know who are the Lord’s saints and who are not; but you know, sir, it is clean different with ihe bairns.” Oh, if you have had that keen, tender, indescribable sorrow that comes from the loss of a child, do not give up. The old sexton was right. It is all well with the bairns. Or, if you have sinned, if you have sinned griev-ously-sinned until you have been cast out by the Church, sinned until you have been east out by society, do not give up. Perhaps there may be in this house one that could truthfully utter

the lamentation of another:

Once I was pure as the snow, but I

fell—

Fell like a snowflake, from heaven to

hell— •

i Fell, to be trampled as filth in the

street—

Fell, to be scoffed at, spit on and

beat;

Praying, cursing, wishing to die. Selling my soul to whoever would buy. Dealing in shame for a morsel of

bread,

Hating the living and fearing the

dead.

Do not give up. One like unto the Son of God comes to you today, say- | ing, “Go and sin no more;" while he cries out to your assailants, “Let him ; that is without sin cast the first stone ! at her." Oh! there is no reason why anyone in this house, by reason of any trouble or sin, should give up. Are you a foreigner, and in a strange land? Nehemiah was an exile. Are

poor,

was

iINIWOMAxYS 'COliNER.

SOME CURRENT READING FOR

DAMES AND DAMSELS.

A C'hotce Selection from Our Poets - Soiim 1*4*11 Pictures of t!i« Paslilons Present ami Future Note* About th4»

Houseli4>l(l.

Spirit of Beauty. HE Spirit of Beauty unfurls

her light,

And wheels her course In a joy-

ous flight;

1 know her track through the

balmy air.

By the blossoms

that cluster arid whiten there;

She leaves the tops of the mountains green,

And gems the valley w ith crystal sheen.

:

&

- lUs

right. The blouse fastened at the side, and its bolero effect, for. of course, it must have some bolero suggestion to be in the hunt, was gained by several * rows of narrow black velvet ribbon, | the effect being heightened by three i deceitful straps of the same ribbon i that pretended to hold together the

; counterfeit jacket fronts.

The rage for boleros is unabated, ; and It allows all sorts of happy expe- ■ dienls in the way of combination cos- | tumes. As for instance, a black grenadine is made over an ivory striped j silk. The jaunty, short bolero is separate from the brocaded ivory white grenadine of the bodice. This bodice shows in perfect modeling to the figure in the back, and is like a loosely pleated front from chin to belt. The belt is simply a roll of black satin, with a handsome bow at one side for a finish. The little bolero turns back with a pair of jaunty revers and under them is set a fall of lace that the outline of the revers may he clear. This same little bolero can he worn over a black satin blouse, tbe result being a very stunning black cos:time. Of course the brocaded ivory grenadine can also 1 bo used with something else, as sleeves ; are provided lhat hook on at the shoulder. When the sleeves are on the broI -ade is at once a complete bodice, and • worn under a green velvet bolero and cashmere skirt the effect is as jaunty

At morn, I know where she restej at

night.

For the roses are gushing with dewy

delight;

Then she mounts again, and round her

flings

A shower of light from her crimson

wings;

Till the spirit is drunk with the music

on high.

That silently fills it with ecstasy.

At noon she hies to a cool retreat. aH if 11 had 1)1,011 nla,le for " se with

Where bowerlng elms over waters the green.

meet; Paradise plumes still sweep. A beau-

»he dimples the wave where the green

cord ornament appeared on the bodice in front, and a belt of red satin ribbon confined the waist. Blue and white dotted cloth was the fabric of the other little dress, whose skirts had a panel of dark bine silk in the center of the front, pearl buttons ornamenting the cloth edges. The bodice was gathered back and front, had a blue silk yoke and a rippled basque. Neither of these dresses offers seriou# problems for the mother who is accustomed to make her daughter's clothing, and each one would make its little wearer as proud as a duchess. Boys at the age of these pictured lassies used to have as little to say about the style of their get-ups as their small sisters, but the youngsters have won their mothers over, for it is a fad now to put the little chaps into long trousers as soon as possible. If his trousers are of sailor cut, they are cut wide over the foot, and if the mother Is notional, the fronts are creased. The Fauntleroy mother still flourishes and

THE JOKER’S CORNER

WIT

AND WISDOM, ORIGINAL AND SELECTED.

The Prinrc* The Way of the Trauigre.sor or How the Street Hallway Magnate View, the I.os. of Awkward Turn.

The Prlnre... .7 PEACOCK

leaves dip, As it smilingly curls like a maiden's

lip.

When her tremulous bosom would hide, j In vain, From her lover, the hope that she loves again. At eve she hangs o'er the western sky Dark clouds for a glorious canopy. And round the skirts of their deepen'd I fold She paints a border of purple and gold, Where the lingering sunbeams love to stay. When their god in his glory has passed [ away.

ttful theater or reception headdress is a black jet tiara frame, from the front of which a splendid paradise plume mounts. This plume wafts its airy length backward, and it is held by a jet and emerald buckle. That is all there is to the affair, but it simply shrieks exclusiveness In every atom of

it.

Or»ing4*s Sitltcil I.ik4* lluitiK. In order to insure the proper preservation of oranges and lemons, these

make you keep it, he has ruined you. | homesick. Trouble is not sent to crush you, but Nehemiah

to arouse you, to animate you, to pro- ! pel you. The blacksmith does not j thrust the iron into the forge, and then ; blow away with the bellows, and then i bring the hot Iron out on the anvil j and beat with stroke after slroke to ! ruin the iron, but to prepare it for a i better use. Oh that the Lord God of j Nehemiah would rouse up ail brokenI hearted people to rebuild. Whipped,

ruins and fall on you. Stop thisuseie^ i betrayed, ship-wrecked, imprisoned. exposure of your life. No; Nehemiah rl ^ 0 * 1 ' ' a ‘ ,an ’

tyr Algeritis sits in his dungeon writ-

will not stop. He at last tells us the whole story. He lets us know he was an exile in a far distant land; he was a servant, a cup-bearer in the palace of Artaxerxes Lougimanus, and one day, while he was handing the cup of wine to the king, the king said to him, “What is the matter with you? You are not sick. I know’ you must have some great trouble. What is the matter with you?" Then ho told the king how that beloved Jerusalem was broken down; how that his father's tomb had been desecrated; how that the Temple had been dishonored and defared; how that the walls were scattered and broken. "Well,” says King Artaxerxes, “what do you want?” “Well,” said the cup-bearer Nehemiah, “I want to go home. I want to fix up the grave of my father. I want to restore the beauty of the Temple. I want to rebuild the masonry of the city wall. Besides, 1 want passports so that I shall not be hindered in my journey. And besides that,” as you will find In the context, “I want an order on the man who keeps your forest for Just so much

ing a letter, and he dates it, “From the delectable orchard of the Leonine prison.” That is what I call triumphant sadness. I knew a mother who burled her babe on Friday and on Sabbath appeared in the house of God and said: “Give me a class; give me a Sabbath school class. I have no child now left me, and I would like to have a class of little children. Give me real poor children. Give me a class off the back street.” That, 1 say, is beautiful. That Is triumphant sadness. At three o’clock every Sabbath afternoon, for years, In a beautiful parlor in Philadelphia a parlor pictured and statuetted — there were from ten to twenty destitute children of the street. Those destitute children received religious Instruction, concluding with cakes and sandwiches. How do I know that that was going on for sixteen years? 1 know it in this way. That was the first home in Philadelphia where I was called to comfort a great sorrow. They had a splendid boy, and he had been drowned at Long Branch.

Are you broken-hearted? was broken-hearted. But

just see him in Hie text, riding along the sacrlleged grave of his father, and by the. dragon well, and through tho fish gate, and by the king's pool, in and out, in and out, the moonlight falling on the broken masonry, which throws a long shadow at which the horse shies, and at the same time that moonlight kindling up the features of this man till you see not only the mark of sad reminiscence, but the cour- | age and iiope. the enthusiasm of a man who knows that Jerusalem will he rebuilded. I pick you up today, out of your sins and out of your sorrow, and I put you against the warm heart of Christ. "The eternal God Is thy refuge, and underneath are the everlast-

ing arms.”

all sorts of wonderful velvet, and frilled shirt rigs are offered for her choice, but the boy who marches out into the snow bank rigged like a hoy in rubber boots, storm cap and stout trousers, ’ is the better-looking youngster of the two.

I‘'ri!ls of Fiifchiou* , Bodices closely fitted with a long point in front are a feature of the new | evening dress. Red foulards, red dimities and red lawns are liberally sprinkled through the stock of summer materials, and the large white polka dot on a blue ground is one of the new patterns. Picture hats with an abundance of ostrich feathers and flowers for trimming will be much worn this season, and there are long plumes among the feathers which are arranged to fall over the brim. A new cycling skirt has two straight plaits in the hack which are made to separate and partially detached, so that they fail gracefully on either side

lived

in a garden fair. "Where he strutted around all

day;

And many the people who saw him there. As they passed on the main highway.

A princess at times in the garden walked. And often her song would be: “Oh, every one looks at the peacock, hut „ There's nobody looks at me! The princess was what the world calls ’■plain," And her beauty was In your eye; And many the man site had mashed In vain. Till she often wotild wonder why. Then one day she thought: “It's the peacock's fault. So the peacock killed shall be: And when there's no peacock to look at, then The people will look at me.” The peacock was killed, and Its plumes were used For a hat that the princess wore; “Fine feathers make line birds,” the princess said, “And that's Just what I wear them for”; But when she had strutted around awhile She sang in her misery: “They look at the peacock's plumes in my hat. But nobody looks at me." Arthur J. Lamb in t’p-to-Date.

An Awkward Turn, “Well,” remarked Silverthorn. looking over his spectacles at Goldstein a moment, and turning over another page of hie paper at the same time, “journalism has become an art; a really wonderful art.” “True,” returned Goldstein, enthusiastically, as he struggled against the breeze to turn a page of his paper also, "f know of nothing else in this world that has made the progress Journalism has during the nineteenth century. I tell you the newspaper is the moulder of the world today." "It is! It is, indeed!” exclaimed Silverthorn. “Y’ou may put it down for gospel that anything one can’t find in the paper now is not of much account, 1 assure you.” “Exactly, exactly!” repeated Goldstein; "it is just as I said in my speech before the McKinley club last night.

I said—”

“Oh, how did you get along with your speech last night?” “Splendidly, sir. Several told me it

the wheel, and beneath this is a < was the speech of the evening. Why,

timber as I may need for the rebuilding The father and mother almost Ulol°f the city.” ‘‘How long :dtall you be ized the boy, and the sob and shrie.c

Rone?” sa | ( ] The time of absenoe is arranged. In hot haste this Renting adventurer comes to Jerusalem, and in my text we find him on horseback, in the midnight, riding around tho ruins. It is through the spectacles of this scene that we dis--over the ardent attachment of Nehethlah for sacred Jerusalem, which in

of that father and mother as they hung over the coffin resound in my ears today. There seemed to be no use of praying, for when I knelt down to pray, the outcry in tho room drowned out all the prayer. But the Lord comforted that sorrow. They did not forget their trouble. If you should go any afternoon into Laurel Hill, you

Froveil a Troamiro. For home time Harry Brown of lola has been carrying in his pocket a trade dollar which some one passed upon him. The other day he tossed It onto a counter, revealing the picture of a man. With infinite pains some one had made tho dollar into a locket, and so skillfully was the work performed that when closed no sign of a hinge could be seen. A (xocid Chrintian. A good Christian is one who has the spirit of Jesus in him, and manifests that spirit in his actions and belief. He may believe this or that with regard to the origin and rank of the various parts of the Bible. So long as he takes the gold out of the mine and works it up into character, he is tho true disciple of the book.--Rev. E. A. Horton. At La*!. Jack—“Hurrah, ?.Iamie! We can get married now. Union stock is going up like lightning." Mamie—“Oh, Jack! Have you some?” Jack—“No; but your father has."—New Y’ork World.

Bhe hovers around u* at twilight hour. When her presence is felt with the deepest power: Site silvers tiie landscape and crowds tile stream With shadows that flit like a fairy dream; Then wheeling her flight through the gladden'd air. The Spirit of Beauty is everywhere. Novel i'omhiiiation toNt it til e. A youthful and novel combination was effected in the costume shown below, whose skirt was pale gray accor-dion-plaited cashmere, and whose

wM

fruits are salted in Italy as hams are here, although the process is slightly different. The fruit is culled while still green and carefully examined. Those found flawless are plated into salt water, where they are left for from three to eight days, according to their state of maturity. They are then put away on shelves to dry and rest. Before being used they are placed into fresh water until the taste of salt is entirely gone. This treatment preserves the fruit with all its succulent and

aromatic qualities.

< lottirs for Little) \Vrjtr4 , rH.

Though women of fashion in half sizes, like the pair sketched below,

regular skirt at the hack which completes it for a walking skirt as well. Tucks are all the rage, surely, since they appear in thin gowns, silk gowns and all other materials which can possibly be used for the spring and summer wardrobe, except perhaps cheviot and serge, and they are in all widths i and in all forms, both crosswise and

; up and down.

The newest evening dresses itave trimmed skirts, and finely plaited ruffles of taffeta or lace, or both combined, set on in groups, is an old fashion revived. Narrow gauge ribbon, with a satin edge plaited into ruchings and set on in series of five, five inches apart, in waved lines, is another new and old skirt trimming. The fact that the bicycle craze has had a marked effect on the increase in size of women’s shoes is a pleasing one to the doctors who have lectured in vain for years on the folly of high French heels and narrow toes. So the bicycle has worked wonders and the very small foot is gradually becoming more and more of a myth. Parasols are out in full bloom In tho shops, but the most elaborate productions look suspiciously like those of last season. There are the same gauzy vanities, all ruffled and plaited and edged with lace or braided with ribbon, and everything in the way of a fancy silk parasol. Plain moire lined with a contrasting tolor makes a pretty combination, which is likely to be popular. Jeweled embroidery is growing in favor, beauty and price as well, and the varieties being made to decorate the gowns to be worn at Queen Victoria's drawing-rooms in London are a marvel of perfection and extravagance. Real brilliants are employed; pearls are dyed to match exactly any chosen shade in tbe silk brocade, and lace is dotted with tiny diamonds as if they were woven In its meshes. One specialty novelty in parasols is called the "sunburst," and is almost Japanese in shape, as it is flatted than

I spoke for over an hour.” “You did?” “Why, yes!” “That’s strange now, is it not?” remarked Silverthorn. looking through his paper again. “1 don't see any account of It In the paper at all.” It was some time before Goldstein could got the rattle of his paper stopped, and when he did so he merely remarked that he firmly believed, if England were to pounce onto Turkey now, the other powers would immediately unite against her. anyway.—W. A. Robertson in Up-to-Date. The Germ of tlxi .lest. The intrepid John Smith approached the block with a firm step. “I fear not, ’ he was heard to say. “This is hut the aboriginal form of the irate-father-of-the-girl joke.” History, it will be recalled, bore him out. The puissant chief Powhatan eventually relented quite as conventionally as possible.

blouse waiat was blas-plaidcd taffeta, showing white, gray and mauve. Collar and belt were mauve velvet liberally supplied with paste buckles, and the tight sleeves had the small, droop-

the other styles. The frame Is first

haven’t the freedom of choice in dress I covered with some light-colored thin matters that their elders have, their in- silk, and an accordion plaiting of tafterest in such matters is usually quite teta or chiffon covers the outside enas great, and while adults only take ' tlrely, the plaits radiating from the satisfaction In new costumes, the little I center. Plain parasols of colored moire

After 1114< Thuw. He—Did you hear about the bank failing today? She—Which one? He—The snow bank. That very night she wrote a letter to her mother asking her to come and visit them for a couple of months. Weight of Sin. ®it W VjiUl I. >|i D i.-J v fc ! ■ J ' V HU tut m ro w gd t it m < i m o» e. ‘:Wll m ii*r

women find delight in them. While it is a mistake to give so much attention to children’s dresses as to make dolls out of them, it is wise to lei them begin early to take Interest in the appearance they make, and surely if the tot knows that her very bo*t. dress is something that has cost mamma a deal of pains, she will take the bettor care of it, and prize it the more highly. The two little gowns shown here should be satisfying to the wearers and makers alike. That at the left was made 1 varies of light red cashmere, its full skirt hanging in deep plaits at the sides. The little bodice had a cut-out filled in with a white silk yoke and collar, its double revers were black velvet banded with lace, and the sleeves had

are a feature in this department, and dainty yellow, white and pink parasols of plain silk have a lace applique em-

broidery on the edge.

The flood of shirt waists which has appeared in the stores is a pretty positive proof of their continued popularity. They are made of lawn, gingham, linen, organdie, batiste and silk, in plaids and stripes, and all over conventional designs. In every color known, and while the manner of making them a little with the use of many tucks, the main features are the same —a pointed yoke in the hack and a box plait in front, with the fullness on

either side.

Lady Visitor at Prison It must have been a great weight of sin that brought you to this? Prisoner—Yes, mum, it wuz. I stole \ load ov pig-lead. Crooks. Cable Car Magnate — If people wouldn't lose their heads there would he no fatalities on our road. Counsel for Plaintiff Don't you think a person can be killed without having his head cut off?

tng puffs that are now deemed Just j tight cuffs and small puffs. A fancy

Lawless are they that make wills their law.—Shakespeare.

theif

The W:*y He Dill It. Broughm—1 hear Chivvers has taken up art. I'd like to sec him paint awfully. Townley—That’s he way he does it.