Daily News, Franklin, Johnson County, 14 September 1889 — Page 7

US MANTILI.NTS LKTTER

\4T£ST KISKH IS THE OULD Of x' FJSHIOX. 7

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Attire Th«ut»elvM toSoo

BM**~TiirlaiM Pretty I'mtmnen for ftiMoii-i'iccoii Wi»r that Make |"«dii«U too Lovely for Any thing. lapocUl New York (Utrrmpwtdtuctl have been to the race* to observe the ion®, We must turn our look* in it direction if we would fairly study present costume# la all their freshness pt coquettish simplicity. One young ciety favorite appeared in a sand coluaohair drt-as with a pinked-out »th fringe round tlie bottom, arid only tin ©-stitched hem round the tunic. jacket was bound with cloth and likd Jotii waistcoat. A lady belonging to '$ higher circles wore a Sevres blue igpkm contume dotted with white, and xuned on the tunic and skirt with marine blue velvet stripes. Cuffs stand-up collar were likewise vel-

Another beauty was attired in ivory red woolen material, with brogh# and trimmed with Havana col4d cloth wirings. An elegant million' 1D» wore red flannel with whitefcloth r«rs on the long drapery and a white fth waistcoat. A friend of hers wore

Jue

cloth dress trimmed with brown cord, the plain skirt being emIfidered up to the knees with thesarne. jacket wan also richly embroidered open, showing a crossed surah wafot-

A sash of like materia) encircled slender bodice.

*|ery dressy toilette am composed of pes of fine plain clear lawn in a dark of emim and oj*»ri embroidery ibined with «ilk, which may 1*5 of .^same or, if preferred, of a contrastshade, 'Die lawn «trij»es are often

Lied with a small jwiitern worked in jd cotton, and this glvea an ex* qjht rained apjearauce to the 1« -..ungement. r,.$he skirt and bodices of floured washmaterials are gracefully trimmed embroidery in while, ecru, or beige, cow ribbon being run through tlie of the worked pattern. Huch a toitrimmed with white embroidery, full elbow sleeves drawn in with [on bows,would be suitable for an out |fr fete.

Immovable collars and neckbands of jet, lawn, and cambric are worn with Ibrio bodices of variegated patterns, gh lawn and line flowered cambric tambroldory ou coarse net is extreme [ashionable for pointed or square pareuu'nts and collars of plain ['brie, so often seen now on full blouse jes that have been taken

greatly

favor by young ladies. On a nuniit these bodices too we have seen the lover collars, waistbands, ep&tilcfet, [of plain cambric the same color, dec&d with rows of feather, or cross-bar, Vhlng,

ie newest thing »n trimmings pro by an inventive mind, is the so metal embroidery worked by make iu gold, silver, brouKe, at iridometal thread into the most charm' trimmings. The foundation stuff tween the spaces of theembroidery erwards carefully cutaway, leaving ttem completely like open work, giving it the effect of tthining net ot

These trimming* took boat in com* tion with plain material of the Haute, contracting color, which is often lly covered with this delicate etaieiry.

ere is the way*a friend of mine mad# for the beach promenade at Nat ra»

«tt Pio:v

notlilng but riblKiu and brairvs—lUl of brains) for that m*rt of thing. Thi» a teacher of drawing in one of out ochoola, and lu«r instinct'for svm[iy and ootora enables her to dress lib [itea, The hat doubt lets* did U« work

JiImshas

reeifued her school, and girb do that when thov a^e not eogaged

ivmwaade wwtumesi in thin wool wry little, and bead*, pws^ erits, and richly embroidered paueb are entirely dbcarded, the prevail |.8abioD for combining two co&twt stulTs lufiklos

auo^

ornamentation.*

•flliotw. lu of thia. however, suany very stylish ooatuwas ar* pin ou? color only. i" '^txlsng aad mmk% toilettes, intend* Iwtiw At the fashionable uutumi to, art) made of black ChAntill* fitooat twelve inchw Immd, oiat« starlpe« ol pomjiodour batbt* with blnck and velvet or moire rib

When lined with black UteeedrMiMi a beaded black tablier,

'alordboneof tlv© mo« •ervi*aW« for real suuumwr wear. »nd may bt §'£bt young and old. It it no* ia»d» «iiu»y varieties ot pattern aud in ,f mixtures of col^w and shade that I' wonder it has achieved 00 ffaod si. This elegant silk fabric way bi to large and amall stripea, check and small, and spot*, leam and #prar*o« ligb anti dark tintw »ds. 'T^

toltettajare again made wheUMtir tot oc

door wear, though onlv for ceremonious occasions, &6b£t of talk and stripes of. figures or flowers must have the train agreeing with the foundation skirt and bodice ornamentations, which are of the fancy material. Of late we have been accustomed to see trains only in the dmwing-room and saloon, bu| the mode i* on the increase, as many of the new striped pekins and pompadours are only adopted for plain skirts and trains, and the»e tissues will therefore be used for such purposes whether the dreas to be worn as an outdoor costume or evening toilette.

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Thin elegant dress is made of plain and striped cashmere, the stripes being of d4rk blue silk on a cream foundation. The pleated paatron, sleeve stripe and neckband are of blue surah. On the bodice closed invisibly before, tlie stuff is turned back as a pleat on each aide,

The pleated trimming on the foundation skirt is composed on one aide of three flounces falling one above the other, th« lowest being continued ab?o round the back breadth on the other of a pleated part going up to the band.

Silk textures in wide stripes and plaid? were never so much worn aa now, and may with truth be called stuffs of a use ful character. The colors ure most taste fully combined, thus straw and marigold yellow are made up with heliotrope of different shades, plain gray silk with black, white, and gray plain faille,

shades of the admired pink, wave-blue and cream or fawn, etc., etc. Fancy silks and surahs follow al»o the law which ordainp stripes and checkers for almost all tissue this year, and the stripes on these look like small flowered bands, bordered with satin or silk plush.

Pigeons wings, 1kj they snowy white or softly shaded darker ones, have always been popular ornaments with ladies but seldom or never have they been so universally worn as in the present day. All sorts are fashionable from tiny, delicately tinged pink, blue or yellow wings up to large ordinary ones made up in groups of three or four togethe., into one plume, which almost covers tin straw or tulle hat on which it is worn. The wings are somotimes covered with gossamer tulle intermixed with narrow ribben, also arranged with feathery grasses and flowers, and, however made up, are always a pretty addition to the toilette of a fashionable lady. 7"

In a former letter 1 drew our readers, attention to the pretty puffy flails, made of the stamens of a Japenese flower of the Asclepla species, known as the American thistle and in Paris as snow halls of Caracas, These balls liave since then become very popular, thanks to tlie delicacy and variety of their shades, and made up with leaves are now much used for trimming hats, evening dresses and wedding toilettes.

Clear batiste muslins with a border pattern of roses or bouquets of roses", on a white ground, will play an important part in stylish toilettes. They should be made up over light silk and trimmed with white gauze or surah. When tlies^ muslin drtwt are made with a low bodice, a white gauze neckerchief can be worn over them to look like a high bod* ice, so that one of these pretty costumes may serve for different occasions. A straw hat lined with black and trimmed with pink and black feathers is worn with these dresses.

Miss

A O

Mary Mantilikl

XJLTlIMS

I.V

JK KLRY.

Of a commendable nature as a toothpick stand is a reproduction of oxidized silver on a tall hat

A moonstone owl upon a background of blue enamel in a circular gold frame is a brooch oddity recently seen.,,

Two interlocked loop* of gold, across which runs a row of diamonds, compose* the neatest of hairpin heads.

A semicircle of sapphires above an enamel and diamond forget-menot an attractive scarf pin of late issue.

A fancifully designed hairpin top fc» an upright coil of rope in gold with a vertical row of emeralds sunk into it

An excedingly cunning idea Sn queetl pendant* Is a moonstone infant's head under a bonnet of gold wire*

White enamel necktie* encompa«»ed by a diamond scarf ring are among the quaint productions In ucarf pin tops.

A dainty conception In lace pins is a filigree gold star with diamond center, •et between two cwecents ^abating ia» ward, /v%

A rich and coetly whim of the falr eax is a smelling bottle ot colored crystal, with a gold stopper incrustod with choice pearls.

A gold queen chain pendant that simulates

open book, bound around by may withou*

narrow ribbon of ruhiea. fear be styled unique. pVea the other side comes the announcement that the finger ring a symbol of betrothal, is gradually giving away to the costly bracelet.

Numbered among new side ^tnb beadI tags is a bar of got! raised aboot on#* eighth of aa inch by a support at «sdh end, from which dangles a fringe ot gold

wire

sprinkled with tiny Maaff| r4-

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mms

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YOUNG FOLKS.

OVB BBJLDOW COMZTKlt.

tvs XX BLACK AiTD WHITE.

A DOVE,

Facts for Boys.^

The chief official in a railway office In -jne of our largest seaboard cities recent ty advertised for a copying clerk at a sal %ry of $30 a month. He received ovei 00 answers to his application, the large majority of which were from married men, the graduates of colleges, sons, in many cases, of workingmen, but young men whose drees, habits, and tastes were those of the wealthy and leisure class.

At the same time, in the same city, "boss" builders were advertising in^vain for carpenters, masons, and painters to finish work for which they had contracted. These workmen, when found, were paid from $8 to $4 a day. Even the skilled cooks, chefs in the hotels and wealthy private families of the same town, were paid $100 a month.

These are significant facts, worthy the attention of such boys as have not ye' chosen a profession or trade in life.

What do they prove? •, Not that the work of a man with "an educated brain is less valuable and more poorly pfiid in this country than that of one with skilled fingers, but that the market is overstocked with the first class of laborers, and not supplied with the last.

The chief reason for this is, as we all know, the aotion of the trades unions in barring out apprentices from their shops. The great industrial schools which have been, or are about to be, established in most of our large cities, will soon, it is hoped, remove this difficulty.

But the secaad dif lty will riot be so easily disposed of. a the silly preju dice among boys ag at labor with then hands as being ungenteel." The clerk who copies letters for a dollar a day, with no possibility of ever rising to highei work, is nearer their ideas of "a gentleman than the mechanic who designr and originates work, who controls othei men, and for whom a wide path to usefulness and success is always open,

It will be long, we fear, however, befortf all the boys of republican America recognize the fact that it is not his occupation which gives a man his true place in life, but something for which the occupation is but an outer garment.

The real nobleman is never denied his rank, no matter how coarse his coat may be,—[Youth's Companion. v:

Hajr'i B»nk.

It was under a plank of the great barn floor, a pluce just large enough to hold the three bushels of hazql-nuts which Ray had picked and carefully hoarded therr —and this was the bank.

If folks save only a little every year they'll have money to spend when they are old, pap* says. So I'll just not eat al" of my nuts right up, and keep some foi next winter," said Ray, sagely.

So he and the squirrels worked together, through tlie brilliant autumn weather He was as busy as they, and hoarded lib winter store as carefully, so tluit wher tlie crimson and gold leaves turned brown, his bank was fulL

Every day he went to peep into it, unti1 he went with mamma to visit at grandpa's. They stayed two weeks, and what long time it was to the little boy with a bank to look after!

Grandpa's nice, sweet apples and grandma's brown, twisted doughnuts djdn' taste half as good as they generally did

Grandpa and grandma, and all of the uncles and aunts, worried and wondered and said lie surely was sick—but tlior they didn't know about the loose plani In the great barn floor* and the store wealth under it, and what a care it was

It was the first thing Ray thought of when he got home, you may be sure. And this is what he found thereempty husks!

As if some one had filled hia bank wit* counterfeit money while he was away. His bank had failed! family of chipmuuks have very busy here for a week," said papa shouldn't wonder if they were th thieves, and I think their bank ir under that old pine tree that I going to cut to-day,

And there It was! Under the great twbted roots he fc*md another bank filled with the wealth oi his.

Bo he was meats tooceasful than son* t*nk officers, but he said gravely, as br stored his nuts away in a safer place: "After all, papsu I don't blieve hanks

are

a sure, eolid thing, do yon? Some 'mm am a» bad as chipmunk*, you know, 2 lieve the beet way is to try and 'joy things as yon go along, ted make folks happjr a* yon can, "itnd of putting lot# of money la the bank tokw*, or bequa* t«led over when yoe are goo*."

Wise tittle Ka^l

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TERRE HAUTE DAILY NEWS, SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 14, 1889.—SUPPLEMENT.

Bow th* Country Cirtms

the farmer or ranchman whose work de mands all the forces of his mind and body, and brings him into contact with nature and his fellow men.

Among more thoughtful people thi? silly prejudice against manual labor if fast disappearing. Hundreds of thor oughly educated men are now herding sheep or growing wheat in Texas and Dakota. The sons of ex-presidents, bishops, and the foremost professional men in the conntry, having finished theii college course, are now working at forgef or in mines, side by side with day laborers, fitting themselves to be practical electricians and mining and mechanical engineers.

C1om«»

After the human hammer has driven a uail through a soft plank with his fiat the two clown* propounded whispered conundrums and told weird stories. The unexcelled Dan Sherman announced that a cow was like a cook stove, because it couldn't climb a tree. The peerless Batchelor said th»,t speaking of cows reminded him of jackasses, nhich suggested this story:

An Irishman, recently landed, was traveling along a road in the Catskilis where he saw a pair of jackasses in the field. "What'sthem? said Pat to a wag who leaned over the fence at his side. "Them's jackasses," said the native. "And where do they get thiim ?B "Out of those crooked yellow things lying in the field,r replied the wag, pointing to the largest pumpkin in sight.

Arrab, you don't tell me that I" "Why, yes, Pat, take that big pumpkin home, sit on it for three weeks, and you will find that a young jackass will come out of it.B "That I will, for I'd like to haveone oT thim long-eared little horses."

So Pat took the pumpkin home, and he sat on it patiently for three weeks, but there was no sign of the unfledged hammering on his prison house. In disgUst Pat carried the pumpkin out to the field, and, raising it above his head, dashed it into a thousand pieces on the stump of an old tree. A timid jack rabbit, who had been snoozing with one eye open on the opposite side of the stump, started across the field as fast as his legs could carry him. "Come back, ye young devil ye," yelled Pat, "don't ye know I'm yerfather!"

Tlie small*boy who had missed his supper laughed immoderately: his mollified paternal grinned and ejaculated "By gosh!n to a neighbor in cinamon-colored trousers and checked sairt. The city folks shouted and encored every act. Some of these latter would criticise a play at Palmer's, or an opera at the Metropolitan but every feature of this "big show" met their approval. Judge P—, of Nineteenth street, said he hadn't so much fnu since he saw Dan Rice with his dyed chin wliisker. Old Dr. R—, of Harlem, said it beat all since he saw Spalding & Roger's band wagon, drawn by forty horses, enter the town of New Haven early in the 50s.

When the audience filed out of the "big show" the oil lamps flickered feebly in the boarding-houses. The laughter of the crowd as they bade each other good night echoed on the hillsides. No other sound broke the stillness of tlie night save the rippling of the brook that tortuously wound through the valley down to Schoharie creek.

The small boy rose very early next morning aud wended his way to the station, but tin tent had disappeared. The inimitable Sherman, the unapproachable Batchelor, and the human hammer had pulled up stakes and gone to Lexington. —j New York Sun.

An Editor Helped Hla

The countryman had just taken off his hat and was showing the manager how bald he was and askii.g if he thought the hair would ever grow again on his head* Opie walked up to the manager and putting out his hand, warmly said: "My dear sir, I have come a long way to thank you in person, and to show you what your restorative has done for me.

Here he took off his old black slouch hat and shook out his long and wonderfully curly hair. fvS "There ," said he'gratefully,' "look at that. Four months ago you remember I was as bald as that tslectric..Jauip up there.n V-£ v* 3#^

The manager was a little dazed, This was rather more than even he could swallow. "What did you do for it?" put, the interested countryman. "Used this restorer-—four dozen bottles of it—according to directions."

The upshot of it was, that the countryman took, Jtwo dozen bottles and .went his way. &2§S "There." said Opie to his partner," now you talk business with this man and I guess you'll get a pretty good advertisement out of him."

When the manager learned who Opie was he faid: You can put me down for the biggest ad. In your tiaper and send in your bill when you please."

,|j| Ltt the Cat Out.

It happened in Chelsea, and on the day of the great Sullivan-Kilrain fight, says the Boston Courier. A little boy. the *on ot a highly respectable citisen, questioned his father as follows: "Papa, Who do you think will win, Kilrain or Sullivan?"

What is that exclaimed the astonished parent, "You talking about prise fighting. What company have you been in? J?Ary (to the mother), do you hear this boy. Do you hear him asking me about prize fighting?" "Oh!" replied tlie mother—mother tike—" 1 suppose he has heard some of his playmates talking about it. Boys will be hoys, you know. "He has no business to be with such playmates. He never hears me speaking *f any wch low and disgraceful exhibilioins,. «nch brutalizing spectacles. I would have this prise-fighting business put down by the strong arm of the law, »wept off the face of the earth. My lad, if I ever hear yon talking about anything •f thai kind again I'll, Fll—-well you'll get into trouble that's all.'*

Next morning when lie went down rtairs his wife handed him the paper, laying: "I had the curiosity to look to tee bow the price fightiLg came out and it appears that Kilrain was whipped.

Whipped!" exclaimed the fktnooxtoer "then by jinks Pt* loet

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BudIrmi

Partner.

Opie P. Reed, the editor of the ArkanBaw Traveler, is a very big man with a tremendously heavy head of long, blackunkempt hair. One day he was passing the office of a well-known hair restorative establishment on State street, Chicago. His partner, Mr, Brenliam, was with him and said: "We ought to get an advertisement out of this establishment."

Opie looked in and saw a family of country people inside. "I'll get it for you right now," said he, and in he walked.

fflE RETURN OF THE HOE.

"Goliath Johnsing, why you so late? Supper been a spilin* on de stove dis half tour," and Aunt Lucy faced her liege ord with stern dignity. "Old daddy Moses an' me been a-havin' out* "Havin' what out? You ain't been an* tad a fuss wid Mr. Benson, 'Liah Johning?" "Yes I have. Old skincher. Here I een a-hoein' hard in de fiel' all day, and mean 'nough to dock my wages 10 jents 'cause I warn't back at noon ju3t it de minute. I warn't late inore'n half oi hour or three-quarters of an hour. 3ut I give him piece of my mind." "I s'pose he don' want pay for work he Ion'git" "Don' git Why, thar was Sam Stevens m' Bill Jenkins they talk more'n half de ime, an' rested on they handles mor'n 'other half, an' did he dock them any Tot he. He got spite 'gain me, I know lat"

Whar^d you git dat new hoe? queried Aunt Lucy, as 'Liah hung that implement ip in the woodshed. "Nebber you mind. Women always «vant stick their nose into ebberyting." "An' what you done wid your ole hoe fou took away this noon. You didn't rade dat off for new one." "Yes I did, 'f ye will know. "'Liah Johnsing," blurted out Aunt wucy, as a sudden suspicion Earned in her ?yes, "dat ain't one of Moses Benson's loes You ain't gone an' changed off ,-0' ole hoe for one his'n, I hope? You /couldn't do dat if he is a skincher, 'n' fou a member de church, 'Liah Johnung?" "Miss Johnsing, you jest ten' to yo' )wn bus'ness. Don' you let me hear not ne mo' word bout dat hoe."

-ft -H

With closely compressed lips Aunt Lucy completed the preparations for supper. She called in the children—six, of ill ages—and they sat down. "'Liah Johnsing, ask de blessing," she jaid.'li

The meal went somewhat gloomily off. Die overtures of the younger fry to either parent were grumpily met. Supper things eing cleared away, young Sally eat iown to the melodeon in the parlor and jlayed Moody and Sankey songs for the lohnsoB chorus.

Suddenly, as bedtime drewiiear, 'Liah •ose and went into the house, saying as le went, "Got to go down to desto', jucy. I forgot I got to mow Dawkinses iel' to-morrow, an' my whetstun's worn slean down to de bone, an' I've got to tart off to-morrow 'fore sto's open 'Liah bad been gone hardly a minuie vhen Aunt- Lucy called in a tragic whisker to Paul, her oldest boy, 6 years of ige, who was just then deep in Only an Yrmor Bearer "You Paul, you come lere quick, by yo'self.

Paul, used to obeying, came promptly, ind was drawn close up to his mother on »he settee. "Now, you Paul, I wonder cin I trust you to do something for me."

Paul, somewhat distrustful, kept discreetly silent. I wish you's a little bigger, but de Jord will hoi' you up. Paul, you listen."

A small boy could hardly listen more ntently. "When yo' paw comes horiie frOifi de jto' an' we's all gone to led an' got 'sleep /o' liearin', PajiU"\ "Yes'm." "You get up still's a mouse, an' you go jit dat hoe yo' paw brought home, an' Ion' you make no noise takin' it down, in' you kerry dat hoe over to Mr. Benion's an' you take de hoe dats hanging iar—dat's our hoe, Paul, dat yo' paw eft thar by 'stake—you take dat hoe an' jring it in de woodshed, an' don' you lebber tell yo' paw nothin' 'bout it."

The first sun rays were shining in at Jie window through the morning-glories, lie early breakfast was smoking on the :able, the six young Johnsons were straggling down in various stages of sleepiness, iunt Lucy was bending over the itove and 'Liah wasliing at the sink, Aiien a loud knock was heard at the litchen door, which, being opened, disclosed Mr. Benson. By his side stood the /illage constable] In his hand was an jld and much-battered hoe. 'Liah saw ,l»e hoe and his upper jaw fell. Aunt juev's gaze also •was riveted on it. "Ooliah Johnson," Mid the constable, "you're my prisoner. ,s You stole Mr. Benson's hoe. "'Fore de Lord, Mr. Benson, I ain't *©t vouhoe. What you doin' with mine?" "You needn't pretend that you left four old hoe in my barn yesterday by •nistake. 'Liah Johnson," burst in Mr. Benson, "as if you couldn't tell this old hing from my hoe. What have you got X) $av for yourself?" "You may search dis place. Mr. Benon, from top to bottom an' side to side, o' old hoe. but yo'self. Now, here's where keeps my hoe,r and 'Liah swung open ihe woodshed door.

There hung Mr. Benson's new hoe. "You Paul! "fairly snouted Aunt Lucy, jouncing on her young hopeful, what lid you do last night?"

Did jist what you toi" me. Took back iat hoe an' changed it for de one in Mr. Benson's barn. "Took back what hoe?" shouted 'liah his turn. "Lucy Johnsing, what you e*n stickin' yo' finget* in "Well, 'Liali, I 'lowed I warn't goin' to tave no hoe in this house wli&t didn't '!ong to us by rights, 'n' so I toi Paul to rit up las' night an' change de hoes back Igin, an' if lie did it, how dis one comes teah beats me "You, Locy Johnsing, see what you'a jeen an' done wid yo' meddlin*! I took lack that hoe 'fore I went to bed, when made's though I was gettin' de whetitun, an' then you went 'n' changed 'em jack agin. .iah jo* ell me *bou& dat

"LI Johnsing, why yon kesp secrets ""tydidn'yott arom yo* wedded wife? Why

By this time Mr. Benson saw thai there ras something more in the matter than ie had snppoaed, and. sending away the sorartable. lie got from the worthy ooaple, vith much circumlocution, the story of ihe night's mistake*. Being a man with pene sense of humor, be was quite moili!ed by tlie comicalities of the situation, tod even went so far as to take breakfast rith the Johnsons. "An' after dis, liah Johnsing,

lemt Lucy's moral, "you'd better think wice 'fore you keepaay mo" secrets from lawful wedded wife!" —[Drake's to' lawful jfagazliw.

Tlje Soottlsb Kilt

Old as it looks, there is no more becoming garb for a boy of 7 to IS years than a Scottish kilt It is necessarily a sum mer and autumn costume, but there is no danger in wearing it in winter if proper caution is taken. It is surely quite as warm and healthful as the knickerbockers and stockings boys commonly wear. It is picturesque in its beautiful, soft plaids and is wonderfully free and accommodating to the active who wants to jump and run and tear about Besides its con venience and beauty also there is something of an intellectual and moral advantage in the suit No in telligent boy is going to wear Scotcl. plaids and kilts long without asking questions about "auld Scotia," and hei wonderful people. The old boast anc' pride of all true Scots that her oat meal cakes make mental giants may provoke a smile, but there never was a race that contributed so much to the thought and heart of Christendom, and the heroes Scotland can well be held up as examplet to any boy. If tlie wearing of kilta should do no more for a boy than to lead him to an affection for Walter Scott', novels, they would be as much to him ai half an education.

A Touch of Nature.

Last Saturday afternoon a car on th« Washington avenue line was jogginj along up town. There were only ftv« passengers in the car—three men, a lad} and a little girl of probably 6 or 7 years

The lady was an austere looking paa senger, who seemed to take little notici of what was occurring or being said ii the car. The little girl, a sweet, rosy faced child, with a slight cloud of Bad ness over the natural sunniness of he countenance, sat at the lady's right an« frequently looked up wistfully at thi immovable face of the woman. The mar who sat at the right of the child, anc evidently her father, spoke to tlie littl* one several times as if to dissuade hefrom gazing at the lady. But still tin little eyes weuld return to the woman'' face and scan it searchingly.

The woman became uneasy under th« baby's scrutiny, and shifted a little as ii to turn her face from the line of visioi of the bright-eyed child. Then the littl hand was laid softly on the lady's. Sli drew her's awuy and turning rather ab ruptly, asked briskly "What are you looking at me for al the time? You annoy me greatly. This was said more to the father tluiu tin little child.

The baby was abashed for a moment but that little hand went out again an the sweet voice, with a little tremor ii it, piped out: "'Cause you look just like my nuunmi did. I would like to kiss you." "Where is your mamma, child?" thlady asked. The voice had softened little, and through the stmmees of th visage gleamed a ray of tenderness. "My mamma is dead," said the plain! ive little voice of the child.

Those four words seemed to break dowi the barrier that stood between the worn an's heart and the- pleading little child Impulsively the lady's arms were claspet about the slight form, and they drew close to her breast. The two men on th opposite side of the car could not see tin woman's face, but the sound of a baby' sob was hushe 1 with a kind, motherl kiss.

The car jogged on, and soon the cliih was sleeping sweetly, with its little yel low head pillowed 011 the satined boson of the woman, while the face of the latto was bent lovingly over the locks of gold

Here was a picture that even the twi ,• hardened men of the world could no look upon without a touch of tears, an as the car moved on there was only tin rumble of the vehicle to break ,the silent —[New York Star,

Vr"

|^. A Prtlty Chili!'# Cloak*' •d:-As in times of peace nations pre par for vi ar the provident mother long be fore snow flies or the leaves fall plans ou baby'8 winter clothes. For the child tha gets tlie fresh air every day, as all chil dren should to tie growing ruddy au strong, there is no prettier or mort healtful cloak than one of tambswool* I

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should be cut long enough to toucfc thi floor when it is worn and so keep lef? &n4 ankles warm when baby is in th* carriage. A cape and a wide collar trimmed with corded scallops, are add«l for greater warmth. Care must be taken however, to cut the cape large and loots Many a little thing has been piedispowxi to narrow cbast growth and «tven to long disease by the tightness of a cioak ot capeon the ft^oulders.

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