Hammond Times, Volume 2, Number 164, Hammond, Lake County, 30 December 1907 — Page 3

Monday, Doc. 30, 1QQ7.

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I By ELEANOR. 'GATES. A.nKor of "The Biography ct . Pririe Girl." i Comright, me, lu McClure. FhiUtpa & CoTKjjany. ? V (Continued.) "I wouldn't have von do anvthina wrong," he declared stoutly. "y0u never eon Id. But, dear, Marylyn U a child yet. She's too young to know her own mind, rind we're taking her more seriously than ishe takes herself." "You don't know how sick and down In the mouth she's been. Juat before father went ehe got a little better. After that for awhile she was bad apain. But I could see It wasn't all about father. There's something else. She's changed sonever talks much; Just sits and look.1? and looks" She Jturned away. "I'm-I'm all she's got," ehe went on. "All her life I've tended her just as if I was her mother. I fed her and dressed her. When she hurt herself -! vr - c LIS ..r i: ei 'tii He iu;jht her I'lnm? tnl hcltl her. Bhe came to me. Now she's hurt worse than she's ever bt'en, and she's come to me alumt ii. I'm bound to help her." "I happened to be the first man sha got to know this side of Texas. She'd forget me in a week if she met some ft,ul vk-.-. n nu, drtti i meet some one " fcVe, I'm afraid she'll have to be hurt." 1 Dallas straightened proudly. "I'll never hurt her," she said. "Xor I if I o::n help it. She needn't ; know about us just yet." "I won't lie to her either" "Not lie, dear. But you won't refuse to come out here" "I do! I doi I'll uever come aguin." " "Ah, Dal Ins, why should we deny ourselves that .nuch? Why keep apart? I've lost the last dear one I had. x - ion ve lost your rather, iou're alone with your little sister. Come to me." "You'd take me away?" she asked. "You'd have me give up the claim, to forget what happened?" "God help me, no I I ask you to share your life with me, your work, your revenge, everything." "Not yet ' "1 can't l?ar to see you and Marylyn staying here alone. And I can't stay near enough to protect you as I ought. Matthews is sly. If 1 moot him I'll kill him as I would a wolf. Then he'll be out of the way. But suppose he gets ahead of me does you harm? Your stayiug here seems all the more terrible to me since I've been east. The ti . . . . juoa 01 yo.ir naving just Charley to guard, of our plov.-iug and planting and cutting hay" She laughed. "Outside work is fiue," she said. "Better than cooking over a hot stve or breaking your back over a tub. Men have the best half of thlngs-the air and the sky and the horses. I don't complain. I like my work. i,ot u make ine like a man." "It couldn't, i don't mean that. You're the womaulicst woman I've ever known." "I dn't fereut." want you to ever think dif"Never will. And I don't ask you to chain yourself up la a house. There's a big future in the cow business. We'd take my shr.re of the Clark herd-you'd ridi with me we'd be partners." "Wait wait." Temptation was dragging sorely at her heart, she glanced homevrard. Behind her the tall grass was running with the wind. She longed to ran with it. Yet "I'll wait and wait," he said, "long as you ask, if it's years." She retreated a few steps. - must go now. D.m't think I don't know what you've done for us the sutler una an um. fit remember it, but got to go. Govnv." l ! "Good night, not good by." he answer u. cant t come this far aud h icip you tomorrow with the hav No, no." "Let me send a couple of men. then." "I'll do It alone. I'd rather. It's all la but this little bit." But please go slow. Don't yourself out, Dallas." - wear "If my work was all."' she said sorroAvfuijy. "f yen would come here cow and thea to me, dear" "I'll never come again. This once I couldn't help it. Oh. I tried and tried! I'm next time I can. I'll think of to Marylyn. Why, I'd gj re my life

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pleases." "You won't come to see her?" "It woulda't help.. But I'll be here every night." She retreated again. He did not attempt to follow. ."Good night," she said. -"Good night; good night." The moon was drifting up the eastern sky, and as she went her shadow pursued her. lie watched until it blended with the shadow of the shack, then walked far to the left endjaid out a beat that half circled the squat building. "There's Just one man I got to look out for," he said aloud. "It d be dif ferent if I had to worry about Indians." That moment across the river in the lodge of Standing Buffalo the young chieftain was bending over an uncovered box, holding in one hand the shaft of an arrow, on the end of which was a pie-e of freshly kilk-d dog; in the other hand he held a willow wand, sharpened. Beneath him, crawling and colling end singing, were Lieutenant Fraser's rattlers. The Indian kept the shaft to one side while he diligently prodded the reptiles with the willow. When h? had enraged then so that they began to strike blindly at each other and at themselves he lowered the shaft and let them drive their fangs into the meat. And when they were spent with their anger and springing he covered the box and held up the flesh, which had turned from red to green and was dripping dark with venom. Then into it he began thrusting the points of a quiver of arrows. CHAPTER XXXI. SMUDGE was burning at the center of the stockade. In its ?ee, to be safe from the swarms of pesterins moaonitoos snt the hostage braves. Their pipe smoke blended with the smoke of the fire. Their loud gibberish was broken only when shrieks of laughter followed a sally of wit Their black eyes sparkled. Their white teeth flashwl Before them were their sons, now romping with the favored dogs of the pack, now gathering to watch a wres tling match between a chosen couple, again lining the way while several raced down the inclosure. The squaws and girls were also outside the lodges, the July night being hot. Thvy cackled together to the windward side of the lordly males aud did not approach except to throw more wet sticks upou the smolder. The outcast watched the Jollity from his dark corner and marveled at It, for were there not two tragedies threatening, either of which should properly lay hard upon the hearts of the village? One was the nearing execution of the four condemned. Two sleeps ago, on the arrival of a runner from the absent cavalry, a wood wagon had hauled several loads of lumber to the site of the pony corral. From that lumber It was said openly, and he had told it in sign language to the braves was to be built a scaffold! The other tragedy hovered in the illness of Brown Mink. Since her lodge had been placed against the upper curve of the pen there had been much singing, conjuring, dancing and beating of drums. But to no purpose. Daily she wasted. She was dying! He was not allowed to see her, to tend her fire or clean her kettle. When on her removal he had dared to stop at her tent flap with a string of pike. Afraid-of-a-Fawn swooped down upon him. her long tushes clicking and frothing, snatched the wall eyes from his uom and belabored him with them. He had not gone back. But in secret he grieved over Brown Mink's suffering, and often he petitioned in her behalf and lifted his worshiping vine toward the Milky Way. In his sorrow his shoulders were bent lower than ever, his ebon eyes were more doglike, yet he still dreamed of reinstatement, for he saw, though he could not understand it, that the warriors were ncaiu countins on escape. They were unkempt no longer. More their hair neatly braided well greased. They ate sparingly only twice a day. Thev almost but aud and forswore water. And by covert exercise they trained away their flesh. Standing Buffalo and his haughty comrades did not waddle now under a weight of fat. As on the day of their capture, they were lank and stately. Bejoielng m their hoies. he, too, had not teen without preparation. A rusty knife found in a rubbish heap by the river had been polished by thrusting it repeatedly into the dirt. In spare moments he ' made himself a i-inw backed bow aud practiced many hours with it. He spent no time in the leanto. His guard there had ceased. The necessity for food did not take him to the shack. His; arrows brought down g.-ime, which he cooked. At any tkr.e with a sharp stick he could root up his fill of wild turnips. He knew where ripe berries loaded the bushes and where the plums reddened in the thickets. And how could he chance staying out of the stockade after midnight when any dawn might iind his broth ers free? Thoughts of Brown Mink alone took his mind from his dream. He yearned to see her again, to mark how far disease had ravaged. to show her that, though all others were indifferent, he was not. And he had determined to t'?H her farewell, to tell h-jr that he would win back his lost rank. For ! this he would even break his vow of silent. I The end that he might gain her side j ninged upon two things his reaching her wickiup unseen and the absence of the crone. These he hoped, for now as he peered froJU His corner. Despite the smudge he could see whatever went onIa the stockade, for the sky was clear and the stars hung

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low. Before Ion? his patience was rewarded by a gradual quieting about the grouped wigwams. As the smoke thinned for lack of fuel the mosquitoes drove the braves to their beds. The squaws dispersed to attend them. The children, tired with play, straggled after. The lengthenicg night brought a

welcome coolness with it. So a sentry soon roared a command from the board w alk. Then the only hostage that was left arose slowly, stretched himself and disappeared. The dwindling pack were the last tc lie down. Some wolves were challenging saucily from the coulee mouth. The dogs answered them in long drawn wails. Finally the wolves took off up the river, and the dogs scratched about to find a moist spot and nestled down. There was silence now except when a cur, dreaming of the chase, vanned in his troubled sleep. Squaw Charley crawled from under the roof and along the high wall, being careful to mark the whereabouts of the brave that was always on the watch. Above him paced the sentries but these did not see him lecause he kept in the shadow. Foot by foot he went, making toward Brown Mink's tent. At last he was so near tp it that, reaching out his arm, he could touch the base of a supporting pole. He drew back then and squatted, his eyes on the entrance. Thus upward of an hour went by. The time passed quickly, for it was good to be near the beloved! Crouched within the shelter of the skins was another who waited the hag. She was looking down the stockade through a narrow slit. When she Judged that the sentries were growing less vigilant she stood up. The outcast heard the crack of her old Joints. A moment and she stepped out stealthily and scanned the rim of the pen. Against the sky the figure of each sentry was plainly outlined. None was near. Softly she padded for the lodge of Standing Buffalo. The pariah leaped up now and took a swift step. But as his fingers closed upon the edge of the tent flap a whispered summons made him pause and glance around. There was a whisper ed reply, followed by steps as swift as his own. lie sank, rolline himself into a ball. He was not a second too quick. Afraid-of-a-Fawn returned, with the chief at her heel. Again the outcast waited, and Jealously. Those within also waited, for a sentry was passing just above. Presently he was gone, and Charley leaned forward and put his ear against the tent, when he heard the scratch of a match. It did not light, and there was a teasing iaugh. The outcast sat up like a startled gopher, one hand to his breast one out before him. Agaiu a scratch. A tiny flame flickered. Too amazed for fear, Charley put his eye to the slit. Both hands came up to drive back a cry. At the rear of the wickiup the skins were pulled aside to reveal the stockade wall. Of this two logs showedhollowed out so completely at the base that they were mere shells! Before these logs, all kneeling, were the hag. Standing Buffalo and Brown Mink. The chief held the match, the old woman a knife; the girl was empty handed. But she was not ill, not wasted, not djing! She was full figured. Her face was round. Her cheeks and Hps were as bright as the dab of paint at the part in her hair, as crimson with health as a gorgeous cactus flower. The match went out. Squaw Charley dropped back to tlx wall's shadow. His heart was pounding madly with a twofold joy. The hacked logs assured freedom for his brothers, for himself, fighting and rank. And she was still to be won! "The work is over," said a man's voice. "And when comes the call of a dove?" asked a maid's. "Perhaps when the moon dies." "Who can tell?" It was the growl of the crone. "The Double Tongue has run to hole like a fox." Once more there was silence. A sentry as he n eared was hCnamiug an unconscious 'warning. When he was gone again there was more talk. But Charley put his eye to the slit. it was low toned, and Charley could not hear. He did not wait longer. Slipping away a rod. he dropped on all fours. When Standing Buffalo emerged and looked to see if he might safely return he observed that In the inclosure nothing moved but a dog, which was going toward the shingle roof. So, composedly drawing his sheet of cow's iid-j 1

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THE LAKE COUNTY TIMES

about him, he strode to his lodge. Until daybreak two Indians did not jcin the others in their rest. The one i:n uiiriiiugiorraecaii ot a mourning dove; the other sat cros legged beside i the smudge, and as a splinter now and j then revived the Ore he waf'ied pray- ! V? f !,h?: ! tht Gn'at SWt CHAPTER XXXII. HE wide valley was T brown, with green splots and tracings for slough and stream. The distant ranees were gra; The sky showed the mistv M:ie i f the dog days. Far off to the north and west black streaks edged the horizon, where smoke rolled up from prairie tires. Brannon was quiet to the point cf lethargy. Guard was mounted and daily dressjiarade held ceremoniously. The trumpet blew its unvarying nmnd of commands. There was no hunting and no field duty beyond the scouting of the eastern shore. The hearse salute of an upward plying steamer roused the garrison to life one morning, but the interruption laed barely half an hour. Theu the steamer, her pilot louse screened by sheet iron and her decks a-swarm with Infantry, rounded a bend in the river and went coughing away out of sight. Once again interest centered at the site of the pony corral, where a platform was slowly building. Life at the shack was even less eventful. For Dallas it wns a season of idleness. The pumpkins and the melons were swelling. The tasseled corn wanted weeks before it would ripen. The field and garden were free of weeds. With no work to do, alone except for her sister, the elder girl had ample time to worry. Marylyn saw that she was dispirited and increased in tenderness toward her, following her about with eyes that entreated yet were not sad. At breakfast she spitted the choicest cuts for Dallas. In the noon heat she was at her elbow with a dipper of ginger beer; at supper coaxed the elder girl's failing appetite by offerings of tasty stew, white flour dumplings and pone. As for herself, Marylyn needed neither urging nor tidbits. She ate heartily. Her sleep was a rest for both body and mind. Every afternoon she strolled across the bend to the cottonwoods. The butterflies fared beside her. Overhead between sun and earth hung legions of grasshoppers like a haze. Underfoot blue!ell and sunflower nodded. And the groe was a place for dreams. And Dallas was a wild thing that cannot tell of its wound. She uttered no complaint even to Simon. The outburst that followed Lounsbury's return was her first and last. She questioned now if her suffering justified a lament. In this she resembled her mother. A woman coming to the section house one torrid day remarked wonderingly that Mrs. Lancaster gave "nary a whimper." The latter looked up with a smile. "I don't think I'm siek enough," she said. "Other people worse off have a right to groan." Dallas, certain that Marylyn's heartache was the keener, would not he behindhand in restraint, and her sister's happiness, forethought and aesire to please all drove the thrust of penitence to the hilt and turned the knife in that secret wound. She found no solace in Marylyn's friends of the calico covers. Her thoughts were too tempestuous for that. They were like milling cattle. Around and around thev tore. mlnc-H warring, but stilling iu the end to follow the only course self denial. Once so rebellious, she was growing meek at last meek and full of contrition. She was coming to dwell more, too. on the lessons that the evangelist had taught her. She was coming to think of leaning where David Bond had leaned she who had always been a prop. There was the old terror that had stalked beside her down to her moth er's death. She had fought her way with It, and the conflict had given her strength. Th?re was the jealousy that had smirched her sister love. She had fought it. too. and bitterly, scorning it because she knew it for a hateful in, heritance. Now was come a third misery and the worst. She saw heri .df as a traitor. This was not mere reproach. It was the torture of a stricken conscience. Her face grew thin, her hand unsteady, her eyes wore a hunted look. At night hers were the scalding tears that dampened the pillow. And so the days went by. Whatever pangs of remorse, whatever longing she endured, she remained faithful to the resolution that she would not give way to temptation again, night brought the lonely the swale. But every watcher to CHATTER XXXIII. HE dirk of the moon was come. All that day the sun had baked, and the steady south blow had been like the draft T of au oven. As evening came, brushing a glory of red from the sky, the wind quickened instead of lulling rid fetched up clouds that rested on the ridge tops and roofed the wide valley. Through these not a star showed. But now and then, for an instant, the post sprang into sight ont of the blackness to the weird play of the heat lightning. In the stockade there was perfect quiet a quiet tense with ercitement. Secrecy forbade eny strong heart songs and dances. Caution advised against mosquito Cres. and suspense aid away with dmmmintr shrill lnnh. ; ter and feast shout. The nred mn the women and the children kept close j !'u wuuui tueir lodges, wnere tney whispered aud nodded, nose to nose. The warriors stayed outside, preserving tieir calm with kinnikinick. In the dark the open bowls of their scattered pipes were so many ruddr clowworms. (To he Continued.)

FOR MADAM AND MADSMOISSLLS Bv BEATRICE IMOGENE HANSEN

I HOTEL CHA..KHOX A MOUEKX -M;ctsiTY i im; citiks. A hotel chaperon! Doesn't that an interesting occupation? tiK New York hotels has I stvj n unt ot t!ie just enir: to go a! want to ; gej on., whose business it is out thv city, with girls who -e the sights. It aH came about when a certain girl from the west went to visit the ereat city fur a whole month, thonjfh she hadn't a frien,l in the place. She wasn't as hohl as wesN-rn girls are often sahl to he. for the thought of spending all that time alone fright. -ne.J her most to death, so i.,.r father made arrangements with, the hotel man to fret her a chaperon. Looking after that pirl wns the first trial of the new plan, and the success of the trial decided the hotel to enlarge the system and make it a permanent thins"You must have a pood deal of fun." some one suKSested to the woman who chaperoned the Chicago priil. "Going with women to matinees and concerts, visiting points of Interest, lunching and dining at smart resorts. "Well, yes." she said; "hut it's work, to. The last woman I chaperoned was a strenuous youistf person who wanted t) see everything at once. She was generally about six steps ahead of nie. failing over her tiiis great:' It took shoulder. 'Oh, isn't some energy to keep up with her. And it takes energy to aceompanv a woman on n slimming excursion. I can tell you. "A lone woman In a hotel does need some one to go about with her," continued the professional chaperon. "Some women living In hotels get positively inert for lack of such a companion. They rorne down to breakfast, go hack to their room and sit there; come down to luncheon, sit around awhile and go to their room; dress for dinner, dine, sit around awhile, go to bed. "Hut what can I do?" one woman said to me. 'I m obliged to remain a stranger in a strange city during my husband s absence abroad on a business trip. I want to see the strange city, hut it's no fun going about alone.' It was cases like this that made chaperons seem necessary." -K(;il.EK A I'ACTOH IX IIIOAITY n ns! it. Nothing aids in the pursuit of good looks so much as the comfortable, warm, well-litted yet roomy negligee. If (mo belongs to the "cold bedroom brigade." this kimono or wrapper should be made from some warm, allwool material, long enough and largo e...n,Ku to wrap round and round h r i.. -fine wium one curls up for a minute nap. There should he fifteen warm suppers to match. This is especially true In the case of the woman who does her own housework. Every afternoon, when the domestic stress lightens, she should shut herself In her bedroom, and. in the most comfortable negligee her purse will afford, enjoy absolute relaxation. Fifteen minutes of n nri t will reduce wrinkles, obliterate lines and soften circles under tired eves. Hut if she attempts to take this so-called rest without sufficient covering, with emus ennsing iV and down it is a sheer waste of time. her spine, I-l('IIEO ftl'KSTS S'lOlI.n M)T luncheon is one of the easiest ways for a woman to entertain, for it comes in the middle of the day when the men are at work and the morning housework is over. The invitations to a luncheon are sent out one or two weeks in advance, according to the formality of the affair. Invitations may b0 written in the third person, but the first person is preferred if the luncheon Is to he formal. To an informal affair the guests may be invited verbally. The correct hour for a luncheon is 1 or 1:30 o'clock. If this hour is inrarvptlirnt t It lwc,. , .. m.-.ier..-, may invite ner guests to a late breakfast, which differs little from a luncheon, except that the usual hour is 12 or 12:30. The same menu is used for a breakfast as one would use at a luncheon with the exception of the soup. At a luncheon the women should wear street or reception dress and should keep their hats on at a formal function, unless requested by the hostess to remove them. The guests should not stay long after luncheon as a busy hostess usually has another engagement to keep. FASHIOX HIXTS. F.y far the most popular way to adorn the hair is bv a niece at one side with fringed or tasselled ends, metal ribbon being most generally used for tiiis purpose. On very young girls the pale blue ribbon is nearly always an improving touch, and black watered ribbon may also be most generally commended. Indee. I, I only take exception to the hair decorations when too many and too much are attempted. Xo woman's head can reasonably he expected to look well under the burden of three fancy combs, one osprey. two paradise plumes, a twist of silver ribbon, and a few flowers. And yet the like is one of the sad. sad sights constantly to be met o' nights. IX JEWELRY. There is an endless demand for collars and necklace to be worn with dec lar are dk-te gowns and the wide dog cnlof jet jade, rhinestones and pearls tremendously popular. Coral necklaces are the thing- of the moment, girl who can do so is resus?r grandmother's pendant i and pvorv oitatin51 1-. earrings and gettine ready to wear nr. some way herself. The newest i earrings have patent fasteners by which they are aff.xed to the ear and obviate the one-time necessary piercing. HAIR DECORATIOX. Nothing could be prettier for the girl

who dances than the new hair ornaments made of a twist of tulle exactly matching the color of her gown and with a cluster of gold or silver grapes nestling toward the hack of the head and against the coil of the hair. Yery pretty and becoming also are the little wreaths of leaves of silver or gold or of green velvet slightly frosted and gleaming. The hair is puffed more than ever, but the stiff and unnatural curls are no longer seen. In fact, if the hair Is worn in puffs, they must he absolutely natural or not at all.

Tin-: si.i:r.u' The new est for the thin and prettiest of si or other arm arc C eS the ' niousqueaires, j fully from sh j made of soft i sleeves permit which wrinkle oulder to wrist chiffon or net. the arm to slow graceand are These through and are alwas graceful and becoming. AH!: Mi l l's SMAI.I.KHf Muffs are said to he growing smaller, but as a matter of fact the latest ones are as huge as three of former su:c. and they are made by throwing one, two, three or more skins in scarf effects over a mass of chiffon and lace that hangs like a huge bag. soft enough to be rolled into a small compass and extremely light, when made of the more precious skins. VF.II. tiOKS WITH II AT, With the flight of the big hat, the large dotted veil will take a hack seat, too. No woman who goes in for becoming styles should ever choose the large dot unless she has a full, round fa ami large features. Mich dots have a way or making the small tare appear peaked. The woman of sharp, dainty features is best In the small dots and dots not too near together. Of all veils however, that of fine mesh without dots is the one for small-featured women. waist iitoiti.ni. The lingerie waist question is getting serious, lor it is Impossible to keep supplied with these lace waists except at an expenditure of an enormous amount of money. One of the solu tions is found In the wearing of tit lingerie vest. l nis is a white lace waist that is all front, so to speak. Pile back is perfectly plain and there are no sleeves at all. But the front is marvellously elaborate. It Is worn wVh the long-sleeved velvet coats of tlu season when it is not desirable to re move the coat. I.A(i; MAY SPOIL AM. 'A woman will spend days planning a dress and then spoil the whole thing by wearing an unbecoming' lace tie said a dressmaker. Jaces have their colors and effects Just as cloth does, and this is the rea sou uiai. so many nanasome dresses are not satisfactory when even a small amount of lace is used. D'Alencon is Keueiauy oecouuiiK, H mi v. nantuiy lias a way of softening the face. Hut Irish lace is difficult, and Valcenclennes is often hard too. Perhaps the most, unattractive lace of all to many women is guipure. WII.I, nili MIFF fiOf Is the great, Mg bearish muff to go? Nothing actually diminutive in the muff line has yet been seen, though a few medium-sized round ones have appeared on the street. There Is one nice quality about the flat muff which the round muff never possessed, and that is the ease wherewith It may be disposed of at the theater. The matinee girl's muff does not now roll off her lap. She mashes it down flat, and even sits upon It. FLOWERS OX MI FFS. A bunch of flowers on one's muff Is the latest fad from Paris. What would he prettier than a Chinchilla muff with a big hunch of Russian violets pinned in the center of It, or a black lynx muff brightened with li!ic3 of the valley or a few carnations? Care must be taken, of course, in panning these flowers to the muff, not tear the skin, but if lonjr, thin pins are used It can be done with little damage, even to the finest fur. HIGH I.IXEX COLLAR. Parisians are wearing the high liven collar with rufTle of lingerie down the front of their velvet Jackets. Put such a style is not consistent, for the lines of a linen collar are hard and the effect is not consistent with so regal a robe as velvet. The collar best suited to such a gown is of some lace Irish. Chantilly guipure or filet, or bands of mousseline edged with Valenciennes. The jabot should be of lace the same as that employed in the collar, or else a soft fall of mousseline. FOR GIRL'S COIFFI RE. Charming little ornaments for the girlish coiffure are the delicate sprays of frosted silver or gold tiny leaves. These alf-wreaths are imported and are then combined with narrow ribbons in various dainty way?. One such spray is of gold maidenhair, to which an knotted numerous little bows of blue satin baby ribbon with captivating effect. Another Is a cluster of ethereal femlike fronds In silver, from which springs a small pale blue aigrette. COIRT PLASTER FAD. Among the latest fads with women is that of wearing a bit of court plaster upon the back of the left hand close to j the little finger. This Is to bring out j the whiteness of the har d an I is said i to make it look more shapely. Another new fashion for adorning the hands is wearing a band of black velvet ribbon around the wrist or, If short sleeves are worn, the band of velvet Is tied Just a little above the elbow.

Our Pattern Department

CHILD'S SLEEPING GARMENT. Pattern No. 5761. In the making of clothes for the little ones, comfort is the first thing to be considered. This style of sleeping garment is a popular on? with all mothers, as they feel assured that the child is well protect ed even if the feet peep from undor the cover, as they sometimes do, however carefully thoy may be tucked in. The pattern is well cut and fitted with full directions for making. Outing or Canton flannel are the materials most in use for the making of garments of this kind. The threeyear size requires two and one-half yards of 3G-inch material. Sizes fop 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 and 6 years. This pattern will be sent to you oa receipt of 10 cents. Address all orders to t he Pat tern Depart ment of this paper. Be sure to tfive size and number of pattern wanted. For convenience, writo your order on the following coupon: No 5761. 8IZPI Name ADDKESS. Shocking. Patience Hear about Richly? Patrice No, what now? Run away with the cook? "Worse than that! lie's eloped with the nurse of hla wife's net dog!" Yonkers Statesman. Always the Same. "Woman," remarked the old bachelor, "is a creature of many moods." "My wife isn't," rejoined Henry Peck. "She is always in tho imperative mood." Stingy. "Is Brown stingy?" "Stingy? I should say bo. Why he can't even enjoy a joke at his own expense." Ditrolt Free Press. A DAY'S MEXU. P It F. A K FA ST. Sour Milk Fritters and Apple Sauce. Meat Ha-sh. Paklng Powder Biscuits. Coffee. LUXCIIKON.; Frankfort Sausages. Potato Pie. Apple and Oiange Salad. Custard Pie. Tea, iixm:u. Noodle Roup. Roast Lamb. Potatoes Baked In Gravy. Creamsd Carrots. Pine Apple. Tapioca. Coffee. RECIPES FOR ME XI'. liaklne Ponder IlUraita. One pint of flour, pinch of alt, 1'4 teaspoons of baking powder, (sifted to gether), one tablespoonful of lard, enough milk to make a dough that is easily handled; roll out and put In pan, leaving a sp;icft between; bake in quick oven; should be done in six minutes. Potato I'lr. One cup of grated raw potato and a quart of milk. Poll and stir In ihe grated potato. YVhn cool add two or three eggs, well beaten; sugar and nut meg to taste. It makes two onen nU XoodI Soup. Beat two eggs, add two teaspoons of water and a pinch of salt, flour to stiffen; roll ajs thin as possible; let Iiy on the bake board to dry, then roll and rut very fine; drop into broth In which a 10 or 15 cent soup bone was boilsid, let boil 20 minutes; fiavor with nutmeg. I'lnrspple Taplora. Soak one cup of tapioca, drain off water, and add juice of tw- lemon and one-half cup of water; also add one pint Jar pineapple and Its Juice, and li cups sugar. Cook slowly until almost clear; btir carefully; put Into this whlte3 of three eggs, well beaten. Serve ice cold with whipped cream. The following recipe wiU probably be appreciated by young people who entertain et inforrr.fi dances and houeo parties where fruit punches are much used: It taks fight oranges. six lemons, five pints of sugar made Into syrup, and five bananas. Fruit should all be rubbed through a colander. Take whites of four eggs, beat to a froth: then pour syrup over fruit and beat rapidly; aid water maxc seven quarts. Use tee or set it out ia the snow. while hot enough to cool to A XEW CLOTHES BASKET. an old baby One woman nas used carriage as an excellent substitute for a clothes basket, as it does away with the constant stooping tad lifting when hanging up clothes.

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