Plymouth Tribune, Volume 6, Number 49, Plymouth, Marshall County, 12 September 1907 — Page 3

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FENIMOSE COOPER

A STORY OF

CHAPTER XX. (Continued.) "Mount not ! go not I" shrieked Frances; "can jou tear a son from hU parent? a bro:r-er from his sister, so coldly? Is this the cause I hare so ardently loved? Are these the men that I hare been taught to reverence? Colonel Singleton, you are a father! pity mercy ; mercy 8 for the son ! mercy for the daughter! Yes you had a daughter. On thi3 bosom she poured out her last breath; these hands closed her eyes: these very hands, that are now clasped in prayer, did those offices for her that you condemn aiy poor, pKr brother, to require." One mighty emotion the veteran struggled with, and quelled ; but with a groan .that shook hii -whole frame. He even looked around in conscious pride at his victory; but a second .burst of feelings conquered. His head, white with the frost of seventy winters, sank upon the shoulder of the frantic suppliant. The sword that had been his companion in so many fields of blood dropped from his nerveless hand, and as he cried : "May God bless you for the deed! he wept aloud. Long and violent was the Indulgence that Colonel Singleton yielded to his feelings. On recovering he gave the senseJess Prances into the arms of her aunt, and, turning with an air of fortitude to his comrades, he said: "Still, gentlemen, we have our duty as officers to discharje our feelings as men may be indulged hereafter. What is your pleasure with the prisoner?" One of the judges placed in his hand a written sentence, that he had prepared while the colonel was engaged with Frances, and declared it to be the opinion of himself and his companion. - It briefly stated that Henry Wharton had been detected in passing the lines of the American army as a spy, and in disguise. That thereby, according to the ' ,Taws of war, he was liable to suffr j-'death, and that this court adjudged him

to the penalty, recommending him to be executed by hanging before nirs o'clock on the following morning. ' CHAPTER XXI. A few hours were passed by the prison .er, after his sentence was received, in the bosom of his family. Mr. Wharton wept in hopeless despondency over the untimely fate of his son ; and Frances, after recovering front her insensibility, experienced an anguish of feeling to which the bitterness of death itself would have been comparatively light. Miss Teyton alone retained a vestige of hope, founded 2n a kind of instinctive dependence on the character of Washington. He was a native of the same colony with herself, lie was known in Virginia as a consistent, but just and lenient, master; and he felt a kind of pride in associating in her mind her countryman with the man who led the armies, and in a great measure controlled the destinies of America. But even her confiding hopes were doomed to meet with" a speedy termination. Toward noon, a regiment of militia, that was quartered on the banks of the river, moved up to the ground ia front of the .house that hold our heroine and her family, and delilrately pitched their tents, with the avowed intention of remaining until the following morning, to give solemnity and effect to the execution of a British spy. Dunwoodie had performed all that was Tequired of him by his orders, and was at liberty to retrace his steps to his expecting squadron, which was impatiently waiting his return, to be led against a detaehment of the enemy, that was known to be slowly moving up the banks of the river, in order to cover a party of foragers in its rear. He was accompanied by ja small party of Lawton's troop, under the expectation that their testimony might be required to convict the prisoner. But the confession of Captain Wharton had .removed the necessity of examining any witnesses. The major, from an unwillingness to encounter the distress of Henry's friends, and a dread of trusting himself within its influence, had spent the .time in walking by himself, in keen anxiety, at . a short distance from the dwelling. While laboring under constantly recurin doubts, enlivened by transient rays of hope. Mason approached, accootered completely for the saddle. "Thinking that you might have formten the news brought this morning from below, sir, I have taken the liberty to c!r the detachment under arms,' said the .lieutenant. "John Bull is out in Westchester, wita a train of wagons which, if he fills, will compel us to retire through these hills in search of provender. "Where did the express leave them? "On the heights above Sing Sing," returned the lieutenant. "Oh! that the courier was returned from headquarters ! exclaimed Dunwoodie. "This suspense Is Insupportable."

r IToa have your wish," cried Mason ; h he is at the moment, and riding like the bearer of good news." ;", Dunwoodie leaped the fence and stood f before the messenger. I V- "What news?" cried the major, the I ; moment that the soldier stopped his horse. I "Good V exclaimed the man ; and f eel- ' i lng no hesitation to intrust an officer so t well known as Major Dunwoodie, he placI v d a paper in his hands.

flew, with the elastic spring of joy, to the chamber of the prisoner. The sentipass without question. :j "Oh ! Peyton cried Franc, as he en- '? tered the apartment, "you look like a ; messenger from heaven ! bring' you tid- - legs of mercy?" I ' , "Here, Frances here, Henry here, i dear cousin Jeannette," cried the youth, 1 as with trembling hands he broke the iVacal; here is the letter Itself, directed to the captain of the guard. Brc listen All did listen with intense anxiety ; and

the pang of blasted hope was added to their misery, as they saw the glor of t delight which had beamed on the co.intextance of the major give place to a .'ook of horror. The paper contained the sentence of the court, and underneath was written these simple words: : "Approved Geo. Washington." "He's lost! he's lost!" cried Frances, I sinking into the arms of her aunt. ' "My son I my son!" sobbed the father, "there is mercy in heaven, if there is none .3a earth. May Washington never want !:hat mercy he thus denies to ray innocent :hild!" i i "Washington !" echoed Dunwoodie, gazng around him in vacant horror. "Yes, I tis the act of Washington himself; these ,re his characters; lis very name is here, o sanction the dretilful deed. ? "Cruel, cruel Washington!" cried Miss Qeyton; "how has his familiarity with

uood changed his nature 17 J " Blame him not," raid Dunwoodie; "it 3 the general, and not tha man; my life I he leels tne mow ne is compeiieu ylnfl Inflict." have been deceived in him, cried 'ranees. "He is not the savior of his untry, but a cold and merciless tyrant, 'aI Peyton, Peyton! how have you misd me In his character ! ;, "Peace, dear Frances ; use not such 'nguage. He is but the guardian of the w." 1 "You spenk the truth, Major Dunwooe," said Henry. "I. ho am to suffer, ame him not. Every indulgence has a granted me that I can ask. On thej

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THE REVOLUTION verge of the grave, I cannot continue un just. At such a moment, with so recent an instance of danger to your cause from treason, I wonder not "t Washington's unbending justice. .Nothing now remains but to prepare for that fate which so speedily awaits me. To you, Major Dun woodie, I make my first request." "Name it," said the major, giving utterance with difficulty. "Be a son to this aged -nan; help his weakness, and defend hict from any usage to which the stigma thrown upon me may subject him. And this re'pless innocent," continued Henry, pointing to where Sarah sat, unconscious of what was passing"! had hoped for an opportunity to avenge her wrong;" a flush of excitement passed over his features; "but such thoughts are evil I feel them to be wrong. Under your care, Peyton, she will find sympathy and refuge." "She shall," whispered Dunwoodie. "This good aunt has claims upon you already ; of her I will not speak ; but here," taking the hand of Frances, "here is the choicest gift of all. Take her to your bosom, and cherish her as you would cultivate innocence and virtue." The major could not repress the eag erness with which he extended his hand to receive the precious boon ; but Frances, shrinking from h's touch, hid her face in the bosom of her aunt. . "No, no, no!" she murmured; "none can ever be any Jung to me who aid in my brother's destruction." "There is yet time to see Washington again." said -MLts Peyton. "I will go myself, surely he will listen to a woman from his own c lony ! and we are in some degree concerted with his family." "Why not apply to Mr. Harper?" said Frances, recollecting the parting words of their guest for the first time. "Harper?" echoed Dunwoodie, turning toward her with the swiftness of lightning; "what of him? do you know him?' "He stayed with us for two days he was with us when nenry was arrested." "And and did you know him?" "Nay," continued Frances, catching her breath as she witnessed the intense interest of her lover ; "we know him not ; "WHAT nEWS?" CMED THE MA J03. he came to us in the night, a stranger, and remained with us during the severe storm ; but he seemed to take an interest in Henry, and promised him his friendship." v "What !" exclaimed the yonth, in astonishment "did he know your brother?" "Certainly it was at his request that Henry threw aside his disguise." "But," said Dunwoodie, turning pale with suspense, "he knew him not as an officer of tha royal army?' "Indeed he did," cried Mis Teyton; "and he cautioned, us against this very !!;ir2er." Dunwoodie caught up the" fatal paper, that still lay where it bad fallen from his own hands, and studied its characters intently. Something seemed to bewilder his brain. He passed his hand over his forehead, while each eye was fixed on him ic dreadful suspense all feeling afraid to admit those hopes anew that had once been so sadly destroyed. "What said he? what ' prom is! be?" at length Dunwoodie askeo, with feverish impatience. "He bid nenry apply to him when in danger, and promised to requite the son for the hospitality of the father. "Then," cried the youth aloud, and yielding to his rapture, "then you are safe then will I save him ; yes. Harper will never forget his word. Best easy, for Henry is safe." He waited not to explain, but darted from tha room, he left the family in amazeemnt. They containued in silent wonder until they heard the feet of his charger, as he dashed from the door with the speed of an arrow. When the major reappeared in his air there was the appearance of neither success nor defeat, but there was a marked display of vexation, lie took the hand that Frances, ic the fullness of her heart, extended toward him, but threw himself into a chair, in evident fatigue. "nave you seen Harper?" cried Frances. "I have not; I crossed the river in one boat as be must have been coming to this side in another. I returned without delay, and traced him for several miles into the Highlands, but there I unaccountably lost him. I have returned here to relieve your uneasiness; but see him I will this night, and bring a respite for Henry." "But you saw Washington?" asked Miss Peyton. Dunwoodie gazed at her a moment in abstracted musing, and the question was repeated. He answered gravely, and with some reserve : "The commander-in-chief had left his quarters." Frances related particularly the manner of Harper's arrival at the Locusts. As she alluded to the conversation that occurred between her father and his guest, the major smiled, but remained silent. She then gave a detail of Henry arrival, and the events of the following day. She dwelt upon the part where Harper had desired her brothtr to throw aside his disguise, and recounted, with wonderful accuracy, his remarks upon the hazard of the step that the youth had taken. She even remembered a remarkable expression of his to her brother, "that he was safer from Harper's knowledge of his person than he would be without it." Frances mentioned, with the warmth of youthful admiration, the benevolent character of his deportment to herself, and gave a minute relation of his adieux to the whole family. Dunwoodie at first listened with grave attention ; evident satisfaction followed as she proceeded. - When she spoke of herself. In connection with their guest, he smiled with pleasure, and as sha concluded, he exclaimed with delight: W are safe ! we are safe !" CHAPTER XXII. The gOid womaa cf the house was a strict adherent to the forms of the church to which she belonged; and having herself been awakened to a sense of. her depravity by the ministry of the divine who harangued the people of the adjoining parish, she thought it was from his exhortations only that salvation could be meted out to the short-lived hopes of Henry Wharton. With her, the consid eration of death was at all times awful; and the instant that the sentence of the

prisoner was promulgated, she dispatched Ca?isar, mounted on one of her husband's best horses, in quest of her clerical monitor. The black returned early from his expedition, and, as well as could be gathered from his somewhat incoherent narrative, a minister of God might be expected to arrive in the course of the day. At the intercession of Dunwoodie, orders had

been given to the sentinel who guarded the door of Henry's room that the mem bers of the prisoner's family should, at all times, have free access to his apart ment ; Ca?sar was included in this arrangement. A short conversation was passing between the woman of the house and the corporal of the guard. "Vould you refuse the consolations of religion to a fellow creature about to suffer death?" said the matron, with earnest z ?al. "I'll tell you what, good woman," returned the corporal, gently pushing her away; "I've no notion of my back being a highway for any man to walk to heaven upon. Just step down and ask Lieutenant Mason, and you may brinjj in the whole congregation." "Admit the woman," said Dunwoodie, sternly, observics for the first time that one of his own corps was on post. The corporal raised his hand to his cap, and fell back in silence; the soldier stood to his arms, and the matron entered. "Here is a reverend gentleman below, come to soothe the parting soul, in the place of our own divine, who is engaged with an appointment that could not be put aside." "Show him in," said Henry, with feverish impatience. "But will the sentinel let him pass? I would not wish him to be rudely stop ped on the threshold, and he a stranger." (To te continued. ) RAILROADS NEED THE "TAG." "What Government Control Would Slean to Ibe Traffic. The remarkable showing In railroad earnings during the past five years, and the enormous Increase In the net receipts of the transportation companies for the year 1000 over 1905, place the railroad magnates In the same ridiculous light in which the packers found themselves In their contention that government regulation would destroy the meat Industry, says the Kansas City Stir. Instead of ruination the railroads find themselves confronted, after five years of agitation for government control, with gross earnings doubled and net earnings aggregating practically a billion dollars. The actual situation Is in direct contradiction of the forecasts made by the self-interested prophets of despair. To admit the contention of the railroads that Federal r.gulation woulrt mean disaster would be equivalent to the admission that this is a govern ment of anarchy, antagonistic to all commercial Interests. That the ' railroad managers cannot comprehend the benefits of government oversight. Is a reflection on the sagacity which has brought the great Industry to Its present jperfect organization. The "tag" of the government "on American meats is worth millions to the packers. It Invites patronage and opens doors to new markets. And the strong hand of the government In regulating the railroads would be a certificate of good faith to investors, a guaranty that they c.-mld not be fllmflammod by Wall street gamblers and stock plungers, while it served at the same time as an Indemnifying bond that the public could not be plundered by outlaw corporations. Such a policy could not prove harmful to any legitimate enterprise. But the bug under the chip, so far as the Harrimans and the Morgans are xncerned. Is found In the statement of the excessive capitalization and bonded Indebtedness of the roads, overnment control in Its final analysis Is a menace to this system of easy money. It threatens to reduce the railroad business to the duty of operating the transportation lines and separate It from the realm of the gambler and the get-rich-quiclc stock Jugglers. New Powder Rug." Members of the gentler sex used to carry small chamois skin bags filled with talcum powder concealed about ,'their persons in various mysterious places. If a bag was not at hand the knotted corner of a handkerchief would do. The powder thus concealed, In conJunction with the moistened corner of a handkerchief, was used to make an Impromptu toilet in cases where soap and water was not at hand and to restore the ravages of wind and dust. This apparatus now has been condemned as crude and bunglesome. ' The newest wrinkle Is the "papier poudre," a French Importation. It is a little square of thin paper, smooth oa one side and slightly roughened on the other, which can be used equally well as a sponge, powder puff, or perfume bag. The slightly roughened side acts as a sort of sandpaper, cleat. lng the dust from the face, while at the same time the scented powder Is rubbed on. The advantage of the paper poudre Is In the fact that It can be concealed anywhere In the palm of the glove, under the belt, or folded In the handkerchief and In the hands of a skillful manipulator can be used without attracting the slightest attention by 'means of clever combination with the handkerchief. Care of the Month. Two drops of camphor on your toothbrush will give your ruouth the freshest, cleanest feeling Imaginable, will make your gums rosy, and absolutely prevent anything like cold sores or affections of your tongue. The gums, by the way, are the barometers of our condition. If they are clear, bright red, we are in good health, while if our blood 1 thin and wanting in the mysterious red corpuscles that make us healthy, the gums will be pal'3 pink, or If we are In a very bad way indeed, and much In need of a course of dialIzed iron, they will be almost white. Ctvle I'rlde. "My town,' said the first traveler, is Greater New York." "Glad to know you," cried the other; "I'm from Chicago, too." "I say my town is Greater New York.' "O! I thought you said greater than New York." Catholic Standard and Times. In Favor of Ibe Suburbs. Johnson You have lived in. the subUrbs ever since I have known you.Badford Yes. "Isnt It Inconvenient?" "Quite the opposite. You have no idea how many excuses a suburbanite can find for getting home late." The little girl who practises on tho piano four hours every day Is entitled to a great deal of credit which she does not receive from the neighbors. The first American paper money was mads la 1710.

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V frg..., ak ."Ht, Womanly Qunlltle That Men Like. The qualities in a woman that win a man's love are various, but they may all be sumnied up In one word, and that word is womanliness. The highest testimony we can give to true womanhex! is to acknowledge that its attributes are the sweetest and the most attractive to be found in life.- Geutleness that is one thing a man look3 for in the woman he wants for his wife. Not the loud-tougued. war of selfish seeking, not the restless desire to assort herself and drive all others from the field. A gentlewoman is a woman who Kcognizes her highest rights to womanhood, and does not discredit them by flinging them in the world's teeth. A man loves a woman who is true. It is part of his view of the woman he wants to make his own that she Is an angel. He credits her with all goodness and all nobility of soul. If he sees her trying to attain it, however hard the struggle, he admires and respects her, whatever his own aims may be. But when she pretends fo be good and .'sn't when she talks of noble deeds and never tries to do them when she tells him he Is all the world to her, and shows hlui by her conduct that hq is not, when he detects the humbug; men are much quicker to find out than women, aud his respect and his love go. A woman must be loving in a man's ideal of her. She should have that tenderness which is one of her . eSlef charms. Lovlug in spirit, not in word alone, though her words must have graclousness, and never be rude or unkind. She must show the soft side of her nature, not the thorny one. He gets plenty of that from his own sex. Just as it Is his strength and his manliness that seem to her his most admirable iossessious, so he looks to find In her what is lacking in himself. Above all, a man looks to find a woman sympathetic, full of Interest In them. Exchange. A Smart Jacket. An advance model for early fal. suits shows a close-fitting Jacket, plain save profuse decoration of buttons, which are set over shoulders and down over sleeves; the latest, however, are cut in one piece with the Jacket. The little skirt fits perfectly over the hips and the Joining to Jacket Is hidden by the narrow belt which fastens In front with a large button. Breadwlnnlnir Capacity. It Is of the utmost Importance that every human being be fitted for breadwinning. The San Francisco catastrophe taught a bitter lesson to thousands of easy-going mortals. Thyslclans who had spent years In building up a practice found themselves obliged to begin again at the bottom with young men full of ambition. The rich had a first taste of bitterness In being obliged to share hardships with families that had hardened In adversity. Some of these will neier recover from the blow because they have no ability to earn a living. Thofe who are better equipped will find opportunities of which they can make use. The Voice Admired., The voice that Is heard without raising the natural speaking tones is the well modulated voice which Impresses cac with Its calm and Its sincerity. Train the ear to recognize pleasant Sounding, agreeable voices and listen to your own critically. A shrill, parrot-like voice makes the most beautiful woman a trying compan ion. Just as the touch of a woman's hand should be a warm caress, so should her vice fall upon the ear wUh pleasant ness. Deride for Yourself. No greater evidence of weakness of character can be shown than a contln tial appeal to friends for advice. At times we all need the counsel of a good friend; but constantly to ask for It Is like constantly borrowing. Learn to decide small matters for j'ourself and learn to decide quickly. Better make a mistake once In a while from too hasty a decision tfian to form the habit of indecision. It Is the first milestone on the road to failure. Alrlngr Linens. Linens should be given a thorough airing every now and then, most thor oughly of all, of course, Just after they have come from the laundress Plenty of light and nlr, as well as soap and water, are necessary to keep them In spotless condition, for what occult reason only some one wise In the la w of physics can tell. .Hut the results w ill tell their own taleairings are the be preventives of "freckles" and mold ai mildew. St id AVhat A Wife TVeeda. She needs a good temper, a cheerful disposition and a knowledge of how lier husband should be treated. Sh needs a capability of looking on the bright side of life and refusing to be 7nnied by small things. She needs a secure grasp of such subjects as are of inter est to men and should not be above studying even politics In order to under stand should her husband sneak of them. She needs a sympathetic nature

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a 'S SV'SV St 'S in order that, should sorrow fall upon them, she may be able to give comfort to her husband. She needs to under stand something of sick nursing. A wife with no notion of what to do In the case of Illness is but a useless thing. She needs considerable tact and patience the one to enable her to know when to remain silent and vice versa, and the other to put up with him when him temper is ruffled. ' If the baby has a rash the young mother is likely to Jump to the conclu sion immediately that it has measles or scarlet fever, which Is seldom the case. The measles develop on the face, but the physician can see it first In the mouth. The eruption shows swelling and blotches between that are moon-shaped. In scarlet fever the spots are so near that they seem to run into one another, though each little speck is closely defined. Before the doctor conies no solid food should be given the child and a spoonful of castor oil may safely be administered. Do not. hang curtains around the baby's cot. Children need plenty of air, especially when sleeping. Do not place the cot In a position where the light. will fall on the child's eyes; nor in a draught Do not make up the baby's bed on the floor. The air is most pernicious near the floor, and purest in the middle of the room. To Clean "Wall Taper. These directions for cleaning wall paper are likely to bo of service to many a housewife. Proceed as follows: Cut into eight iortions a loaf of bread two days old. With one of these pieces, after having blown off all the dust from the paper by means of bellows, legin at the top of the room, holding the crust 'In the Vaud,. and wiping lightly downward with the crumb, about half a yard each' stroke until the upper part of the paper is completed all around. ' Then go around again, with the like sweeping strike a very little higher than where the upper stroke finished, till the bottom is finished. This operation, If carefully performed, will often make very old paper look almost equal to new. Great caution must be used not to rub the paper hard, nor to attempt cleaning it iu tb? horizontal way. The dirty part of thi bread, too, must be continually cut away, and the place renewed when necessary. BntteriHlllf aa a Tonic. Ordinary sour buttermilk Is a better tonie. is a beter food than was ever bottled or boxed' up by the chemist or doctor.- Buttermilk Is a very hearty food. Two glasses a day Is enough for any one. This should be drunk with meals, or else should not be taken within two hours of a meal, says McCall's Magazine. Time should be given for it to thoroughly digest before anything else Is taken Into the stomach. It takes buttermilk considerably over an hour to digest, and to drink another glass before the first one is digested is only to stir up difficulty with the digestive organs. Iteally, the best way to drink buttermilk Is with the meals, though It may be drunk between meals as a sort of easily digested lunch. ' The L.lng-erle Hat. The lingerie hat has ceased to be a frilly affair. It Is huge, bell-shaped, and whether of cretonne or of embroidered batiste, or of Irish lace or of cambric embroidery, the stuff Is stretched smoothly over the frame. A border of ribbon or of straw Is used, and the lining may also be of either of these ma terials. Toile de Jouy ribbons may be had to ensash them, or white cotton gauze ribbons printed with gay bouquets and bordered with satin. One cretonne hat has nothing but a quilling of old rose ribbon to trim it, old rose lining It, and a hat In embroidered cambric is entirely inundated by a shower of white aigrettes that almost hides its foundation. Washing- a Veil. In the case of a soiled veil there Is no remedy except by washing entirely. If, however, when a fair price has been paid, the color becomes changed, and there la something wrong with the dve. if returned to the store where bought It may be exchanged for a perfect veil. Little loose-threads should be clipped whenever they appear and. needless to say, all veils will last longer if carefully folded or rolled and put away after each wearing. I TtemnrkaMe "Woman. Mrs. Julia aru tiowe writing a IKem for Old Home week In Boston at the age of 88 Is something that may not happen ag". a in the course of the lives of most of us. The present generation has no reason to suppose that any of its women will live to be that old, and with the stiess and strain of present day living It Is even less likely that at that age the old ladles will be writing rhymes. 'A Checked voiles, in two-toned effects are exceptionally attractive for after noon gowns when made with a silk gar niture. Sashes and bretelles can be made of narrow ribbons alternating with the same insertion and edged with tiny niches of lace. A, plain shirtwaist can become a rtrtsy blouse with the addition of a jabot which fastens at the neck and Is tucked in at the waist line. For theater and seashore use, Spanish Isce scarfs are very pretty. Os trich boas are worn la appropriate

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-v ""iiJi' shades with afternoon and evening gowns. Velvet ribbon, plain or set with Jew els, is worn around the neck when the gown Is decollette. It is invariably seen with the Dutch neck, which Is now so iopuiar. Dainty white batiste, shirtwaists are shown with Marie Antoinette frills, with a tiny edge of lavender, pink, blue or tan color on the front plait and on each edge of the cuffs. Very pretty princess lingerie dresses are made of French- mull in white, pink, light blue and heliotrope. They are trimmed on the skirt and waist with valeueiennes lace. Some of the newest sleeves are made with bewitching little puffs above the elbows, and cuffs fastening Just below. Another cuff Is of lace which reaches half-way down the forearm. The feather pin Is a Jewelry novelty which threatens to be as popular as the horseshoe and the swastika. A coral setting In the center of the quill Is used with gold, and turquoise with silver. A pretty sash, called the Japanese style, is made with wide girdle, short, flat bow, and long ends. Another style is the Dutch loop made in a large puff of soft silk and two long ends which are finished with fringe. There Is a new hair ornament of twisted purple velvet, wired, with clusters of black currants over the right ear, and white over the left. This fruit Is made of silvery tinsel and a few natural colored leaves are put with It. Necklaces with stones to matcb the gowns are the latest craze. A slender gold chain with pear-shaped mother-of-pearl pendant Is very popular and can be worn with any costume. Amethysts and topaz are more becoming to most women than the more brilliant stones. White Bell Shape. Small, white bell-shaped hat, Ifs dip brim edged with black velvet Around the high, square crown, bands of black vel .et ribbon form a lattice over loops of similar ribbon, which are set on perpendicularly so that the upper portions reach to top of crown and lower edges extend to edge of brim. On the left side the velvet Is arranged In choux, separated by knots of velvet, the lower chou finished with pointed ends slightly wired so that they will stand out from the hat brim. The lace yoke and collar of the gowa worn with this hat are trimmed slightly with black velvet, and a fluffy net boa gives additional width to ths figure. Makes One Deantlfal. Dr. Hale White, a noted London rpecialist, gays that people who have rheumatism may eat what they please, as it makes no difference to the disease, but there Is one vegetable that gets In its work in another way, and that Is the cucumler. It is the beauty vegetable par excellence, and every one who would be beautiful must eat It at least once a day. It Is a good idea to eat it oftener. if you can, you who would be beautiful. It Is also good for the complexion as an outside applicant, the skin and seeds steeped in water being excellent for the complexion. V Don'ti for Baklnesa. Don't take home troubles of the office and air them there. Don't criticise those who work with you or those for whom you work. Don't be late and then expect consideration because you are a woman. Don't wear overtrimmed and fussy clothes. Wear plain clothes with appropriate blouses. Don't try to be mannish either In dress or manner. Don't sprinkle yourself with heavy scent. Your particular kind of perfume may be exceedingly obnoxious to those about you. Women Addicted to Drnar. It Is said that -New York and other large cities are full of sanitariums for women who are addicted to Intoxicants. And it is not always pure alcoholic drinks that bring about the condition, for many women indulge In so-called "tonics" that bring them to the verge of mental and physical collapse. The drink habit Is said not to be confined to any one class of women, society women and professional women as well as women of the poorer classes being equally unfortunate in this respect. Helped Little Children. Mrs. Archibald Little is responsible for the movement in China for natural feet. The first society was formed in 1SI5 by ten wemen of different natlonaltles, and a big memorial was sent to the empress. Before her departure for England Mrs. Little had the satlsfacion of seeing the movement spread, and there Is no doubt that many thousand: of children have been saved much torture. Talie Tack In Under Hen. A simple way to shorten wash linen or crash skirts that have a deep hem :jt the bottom is to take up a tuck on the insJo of the hem. This need not In? stitched on a machine or very particularly sewn, as the starch used In the laundry will hold It In position, and it can be more easily ripped if the washing shrinks the material. Dresden China. A correspondent says that on inquiring at a Berkshire village the postage cn a letter to Dresden, the postmistress consulted the postal guide, and at last handed It to him with the remark that she could not find Dresden, though she had looked at all the places under the head of China.'

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THE FIELD OF BATTLE

INCIDENTS AND ANECDOTES OF THE WAR. The Veterans of the Rebellton Tell of Whistling Bullets, Bricht Bayonet, Bursting: Bombs, Bloody Battles, Camp Fire, Festive Bns;s, Etc. While the Eighty-fourth Indiana was In camp on the Big Sandy River in West Virginia Samuel Huddleston, of that regiment, made the following entry in his diary: Sunday, January IS, 18G3, was a fair and not a cold day. I went on a long ago planned excursion to Cedar Mountain, a little way up the Big Tug River toward the south from our camp, and as was my usual custom on such occasions I went alone. I knew that I would have to cross II 1 11 Creek, but I was surprised when I came near It to hear the roar of a waterfall, far I did not know of the falls. The creek was usually only a little 'rill, but now in this rainy time the water flows about ten Inches deep upon a bed of rock that is as level and smooth as a floor and about fifteen feet wide. It pours over the square ending of this bed Into the deep back water of Big Tug River, which Is only about a hundred yards below and quite flush at this time. After viewing the falls for a time I crossed over on a foot bridge and approached the little gate that led Into the yard of a neat but old frame cottage on that side of the creek. Before I had passed through the gate, however, a very handsome young lady opened the door to come out, but seeing me she stopped and would have gone back If I had not spoken to her. Stopping In the gate I said: "Do not be frightened, Miss, I want to go to the top of Cedar Mountain, and I have called to Inquire which is the best way up." The shy girl peeped through the little opening In the door until I had made my business known; then Bhe seemed to have taken confidence In me and talked to me. She began at once to direct me up and 1 was surprised to note her refinement and education, for her language and manners were faultless. When I was about to start away she said: "I have a mind to offer you the company of my brother, who I see is coming yonder. You may have trouble to find the way If you go alone." As she spoke I looked in the direction Indicated by' her gesture and saw a young man approaching on foot only a little way off. Turning to the girl I said : T would be pleased to have the young man's company, but " "Pardon me for Interrupting u but If yon are thinking of the trouble ton reed rot mind that, for he has to go over the mountain to see our uncle on a little errand, and it will bo no trouble for him to go with you. I could not think of rejecting the kind offer, even though under circumstances I would have preferred to have gone up alone; but this was the first real lady I had spoken to since I left the Ohio Rivef, and I said: "I will be pleased to have his company, and I only wish I could do something for you to repay you for your kjndness." She abruptly changed the subject by saying: "You have heard of the death of my father, I suppose." 'No." I said, "I didn't know anything of you, nor tbat there was any one living here till I came upon the house a few minutes ago. How long has your father been dead?" "Father was a Union soldier, and the rebels called him out, pretending to Inquire the way to Shallow Ford one dark night over a year ago, and they shot him right where I am standing. He fell back Into the house dead. Mamma was living then, but he never spoke to her nor to anybody after he was shot, and mamma died last summer. We, that is, my brother John, who is coming yonder, and I are living here and keeping our three little brothers and sister together." Tes, I know now that I have heard some talk of your father's death since you have told me of the circumstance. I said, and after a very brief silence I Inquired : "Have you always lived here?" It seemed to me she was too bright 1 fiower to have always lived In this rough mountain country. But she answered : "Yes. Father was raised In this house and mantna was raised In the iiext house down the river. Father worked his coal mine upon the side of the mountain before the war." Our conversation was broken off, or rather It course was changed by the near approach of her brother, who I found to be a bright young fellow, but not as good a conversationalist as his slater. I did what I could to make a good Impression upon the young iuan for the sake of his sister, and I regretted when we reached the top of the mountain that we must part so soou. After I was left alone I rested a while and viewed the fine scenery all c round me, the rough mountain country toward the cast and west and the winding rivers toward the north .:nd Fouth. I saw our camp a little way down the river, and just across from It upon the Kentucky side was the town of Louisa. In the mountain nooks all around me I saw little curls of smoke Issuing from the countless mountila homes. But when satisfied with feasting upon this lovely scenery, I started down the mountain by a strange rout 3, and by climbing and jumping from crag to crag I made rapid progress until I suddenly found myself In a trap below a high rocky ledge, from which I had Jumped, and upon which I could net possibly climb again. I could pass but a few steps to the right or to the left, and below me was a bank of 3oft, wtt, oozy soapstone nearly perpendicular and sixteen or eighteen feet high. I carefully sun-eyed the situation nrd found that my only chance of oscypo was to go down over that wet and greasy bank. So, after an hour's meditation upon the vanities of cleanliness, I let all holds go and slid down. Then, as soon as I could collect my senses' enough to begin to make calculations as to where I wa, I found myself sitting like one In a bath tub, but In a pool of the nastiest, greasiest, mllkcoloru'l slush that could be imagined, and looking down to the cottage by the Mill Creek Falls I saw that Virginia girl that had been haunting my visIons for the past three hours, and she was looking up at me. I got up acd tried to make believe that I was all here or accounted for, and when I had hurried away from the gaze of the girl I examined myself very dellberttely and found that it was actually

1 1 ! I x necessary that I should hunt a iaxx spring and strip off all my clothes and wash. Now I found this a pretty cold January Job, but the washing of my body in cold spring water was not all of It, for I had to wash my clothes and rend them for an hour before I roultl put them on; then I had to put them on dripping wet. But that sweet Virginia girl I had Indulged in fend vision of another meeting and a. better acquaintance on my way hoae. I heard her brother f.wice call her Magurete, So bright and modest and so serenely sweet. I loved her though I'd met her nevsbefore. ' She talked so sweet to me from her cottage door. Once since I saw her vision at me poking; While I in that nasty pool sat soaking; And now ever since that most unlucky slide, My love for her has been subdued by mj . pride ; And though I believed she loved and pitied me, I had not the courage to pass that waj and see. American Tribune.

A Boy's First Battle, The first battle is a thrilling event O every soldier; but when one goes to It in the darkness of night, In a heaTj for est, and with so notable a band of rangers as Mosby's men, and when one 13 but 1G years old, It must come very neajs the sublime or the ridiculous. 1 shall never forget that grim and stealthy march, says John II. Alexander, In his account of such an erect. Creeping along through the deepest hollows and the darkest shades; never a sound save the smothered tread of tha men, or the scream of a bird scared from Its roost, or the rustling througti the bushes of some beast roused fron Its lair; moving away in one direction and then In another to avoid vedettea which the colonel had located, we kept on, slowly but surely approaching our prey. The silent and monotonous morem had beguiled me Into a halMrcaminj state, when suddenly I was aroused by the coughing of a horse, and saw a dark mass looming up in the center of a small clearing. It vras a Yankee picket post. Just then one of the men trod on a stick, and as It cracked Vneatb his foot a voice cried out, 'Who cornea there? and almost simultaneously tha sentinel fired his gun. 'Charge 'em, men !" cried Colonel Mosby, and there were shots and yells and running men and snorting noma and the odor of much brimstone and that's pretty much all I know about the fight.; 1 Out of a hazy uncertainty whether I was on . my " head or my heels there comes to me the recollection that I started In with the others, that I struck my head against a tree and knocked my hat off, that I stopped absurdly to pick It up, and that when I had found It and started on again, a few scattering shots were winding up the affair. And then I realized what a record I had made. It would never do to say that I had passed through my first fight without firing a shot, so directing my pistoL to where I thought the enemy ought to be, I fired the last shot of the occasion. The surprise had been ho complete that there was no opportunity for resistance. Our men were in among the prostrate forms before the "Yankees were fairly awake, and assisted some of them to unroll from their blankets,. None of them escaped except the sentinel, who must have dashed away the instant his gun went off. We supposed there had been no casualties cn our side until Welt Hatcher reported that he had come through the fight all right, "because there wasn't any," but w hile he was standing on the bank, after everything was all over, some greenhorn behind him had let off a gun and shot him In the heel." , On that subject I kept very still. Making Loyal Men of Rebels. On General Rousseau succeeding Mltchel In his command In Alabama he was visited by a gentleman requesting permission to go beyond our lines. He had never taken up arms against the Union, but he had aided and abetted those who bad, and admitted that HA was still a Secessionist "You can't go," said the general. "It seems very hard," replied ce&h, "that I can't go to see my wife.". No harder for you than it is for me," returned the general ; "I want to see my wife. You have compelled me to leave her, by your Infernal treason. Tou surely don't expect xne to grant you a favor which your rebellious conduct prevents me from enjoying." "Well but general "It Is useless to talk, 6lr. If yoa will go to work and assist me to return to my wife, I will do all I can to enable you to return to yours." "What do you wish me to do, geüerair - "I wlh you to return to your allegiance, and, as far as lies In your power, to discountenance rebellion and treason." But, general, my conscience will not allow me to do that." "Neither, then," rep' led the Kentucky patriot, "will my conscience allow me to grant you favors which are due only to loyal men." Of course there was nothing further to be urged; the baffled Rebel took up his hat and left. The general turned toward those who were sitting In bis tent, and quietly remarked: "When you have rendered these Rebels fully sensible of how much they have lost by their rebellion, you have taken the first step toward making them loyal men." Memory Never Dies. A physician of my acquaintance gives me a little story which Is at once pathetic and humorous, apropos of the passing, away of the veterans of the Civil War. . He always found a grizzled old patient of his poring over a Grand Army paper published at Washington, and not entirely unconnected with the Tension business. "Do you never get tired of reading that paper?" he asked. "Why, no,' said the veteran. "I like the war stories, and when I get through with them I fall back on these lists of names of the old boys; I didn't know so many of 'em, but we fit on the same side. I never get done wondering how they keep fallin' out f line. You see the stars opposite their names. There Is more of 'em every month." "What does the star mean? "Oh, that means 'deceased. Tou see, when a soldier dies he Is devased. Deceased means dead." "Well, If anybody else- dies Un't he deceased?" ; "Whv, no, of course not," rejoined the old man with voice and' look blend-, ing pride In tils uniform and pity foo such Ignorance. "Nobody except soU dlers deceases. Only old soldiers arfr deceased,

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