Newspapers / The Chatham Record (Pittsboro, … / Sept. 7, 1905, edition 1 / Page 1
Part of The Chatham Record (Pittsboro, N.C.) / About this page
This page has errors
The date, title, or page description is wrong
This page has harmful content
This page contains sensitive or offensive material
Stye Chatham Uccorb. H. A. LONDON, I Editor and Proprietor, TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION, $1.50 Per Year. Bir.ic.tjv in Advance- LUKE;. HAMMOND, .'THE' MISER. i 1 By Prof. Wm. Henry Peck, ' Author of th e "TSi St one -Cutter ; of Lisbon" Etc CHAPTER XIX. " . Continued. , 'Do you think she suspects 7" "I cannot say as to that, .Luke. She floes not seem to notice me when I go about her; but once or twice I have detected her eyeing me slyly, .with a glance that ha more in it than I like." r-5!Ha! If she does that, she suspects. We must attend to her ere long." . -"Attend to her what do you mean?" I "Nonsense; don't stare at me, Nancy. If it conies to a point where Luke Ilaimnond must swing by his neck, or old Fan die quickly in her bed -well, we shall see." ''You would do it, Luke," said Nancy, trembling. ' "So would you, Nancy,. Don't put on the squeamish with me. An enemy Is an enemy, and you know it. But time enough to think of Fan's case after other and more important things. I wonder how It is with our gallant young friend, James Greene?" f A tapping at the door startled him. "Who can that he?" he said, and cau tiously opened the door, '''bid Fan, ghastly and shaking, stood before him. "I -want to go away," said Fan, creeping in and looking over her shoul der into the dark behind her. '"Go awcyl Go where?" cried Hanf raond. -. . " Anywhere anywhere out of this house!" whined the old creature, sit ting down by the blazing grate, and drawing herself into a heap. "I can't get warm. I'm cold cold! and such noises."-' ' "Noises! you old fool?" said Luke. ; "Yes noises! I'm old, Luke Ham mond, but I ain't deaf nor blind. Some thing amazing awful is going to happen in this house. Down in my room I hear the Evil One at work, pounding and hammering and thumping. I know he's coming for you, or Mrs. Harker or me. Then I see James Greene, all muddy and bloody, running all over the house. He's after me. I can't get warm." ' k "Last night, Fan," said Luke, "you fainted with fright, arid called out that Nicholas Dunn was your husband." "Eh!" said Fan, and Hammond turned his back to avoid her terrible glance. "Yes, Fan, you said that," continued Luke, with a paper before his face, "Now I knew a man named Roland Dunn he was hanged twenty years ago for murder." ; "Was he!" screamed old Fan, all alive with glee. "Ha! he was hanged? hanged for murder! Thank God for it! I feel better now! I feel warm all over. He was hanged! . Good! I wish I had been there to see it. And yet, she continued, in a mournful voice, "he must have been my boy a very bad ton he murdered his father same thing. Put me In a mad-hoU6e. So he's hanged. Good. Now if I could hear what became of the girl my girl Roland Dunn's sister she ran away with John Marks wild John Marks, that robbed his father." "She was drowned at sea I heard the dying confession of Roland Dunn," said Luke, turning and speaking to Nancy, as if old Fan was absent. "Roland Dunn said he drowned his sister Ellen, Nancy." "Did he! Good!" cried Fan. in per feet ecstasy. "I knew they'd come to a bad end." . "But they were your children, old woman," tyiid Hammond, while Nancy pretended to be absorbed in a news paper. "My children! Were they? I won der if they were," moaned old Fan, shaking her shattered brain to and fro with a melancholy motion. "If they were my children I ought to cry and feel bad about it." said sha vacantlv. Then fiercely "No! they were not my children, Luke Hammond. They were a pair of imps. I know it I know it aont say no for old Fan knows it And if they weren't dead, and I should meet them what do you think I'd do?" "Tell me; I'd like to know," said Hammond, carelessly. Fan put her hand In her bosom and drew out a great, broad-bladed knife, long, and curving to a point "I'd cut their throats!" she cried, flourishing the knife. "I would, if it hanged me! For thev murdered my husband, my Nicholas whelps ! whelps ! I've carried this knife for it for years for years!" Luke and Nancy exchanged glances. "Fan," said Luke, "you are crazy." "I know it I know it!" moaned Fan, hiding her knife. "I wish I wasn't, or wish I was stark raving mad then I could not feel my misery. I'll go back to the kitchen now. I feel better since I've heard such good news. They're dead and I feel better." "Well, give me the knife, Fan. You will not need it now," said Luke, very coaxingly. "No I want the knife the knife, said I'an, fiercely. "I saw Daniel creeping about last night he wants to rob- me. My gold is here now my birdies!" She showed the little sack tied around her wrinkled throat. VOL. XXKIII. Copyright 1896, by ROBEBT BONKEK'S SOXS. tAtt right reserved.) 'To rob me they must cut my throat first ha! let them come I can fight fight hard now for my yellow birdies." She hobbled away and Hammond ocked the door after her. When he turned, Nancy Harker was weeping bitterly. What's that absurdity for?" he said, with a coarse laugh. 'Oh, Roland, she is our mother!" ex claimed Nancy. 'Take care! Call me not by any other name than Luke Hammond," said he, grasping her , by the arm. Woman, you are growing weak, fool ish, dangerous." 'Dangerous!" she repeated, drying her tears Instantly. 'Aye, dangerous, Nancy. Dangerous to me. So look sharp, and call me no strange and forgotten names. I am a man to meet and destroy danger not to be crushed by a cry-baby." Enough, Luke," said Nancy. "I'll be weak no more.". The better for you, Nancy," said Luke, resorting to his brandy. "Keep quiet. 'The madness, grief and age of the old woman is killing her. Let this matter rest, and wait watch and wait. So Daniel left his charge last night and went prowling after gold?" "No," said Nancy; "Fan imagined it She is always accusing' some one of wishing to steal her gold. Daniel is true to his post." "He had best be, for I'd end his business very suddenly if he tried any tricks," said Luke, grinding his teeth together. Then seeing Nancy retreating until her back touched the wall, and staring wildy at vacancy, he cried out: "What is the matter with you now?" "See! There! Near you!" "What? I see nothing," said Ham mond, looking about him and drawing a pistol. "I see it I see it oh, Heaven!" groaned Nancy. "WhaT? Speak, woman!" "The shape the shape that haunts our dreams," said Nancy, wildly. "Our father's face in inky clouds! His lips move he speaks! Listen!" Despite his iron nature, Luke trem bled like a leaf in a gale, and with staring e"yes gazed about him. "I see and hear nothing," said he, at length. "Gone gone at last!" murmured Nancy, sinking into a chair. "You are putting on, Nancy Harker; you know you are' "I saw it I swear I saw it. I heard it," cried Nancy, angrily. "Bah! Imagination! You are going mad like Fan. If you heard it, what did it say?" "Beware of Harriet Foss! When she shall meet ye, and ye shall know each other,- ye die! " said Nancy. "Nonsense !" said Hammond. "You've dreamed that so often that at last you think you hear it. I tell you, my good woman, to be careful. You are grow ing quite dangerous. I expect to hear from John Marks every instant. I am astonished that he or Stephen have not returned. The bark Gleaner must be in port. Come, we must have no more of this nonsense, Nancy." Nancy made no reply, but drew n chair to the fire and sat down. Luke looked at her in silence for some time, and then thought: "She is failing fast. ..This won't do, I may have to take care of her at last." The gate bell clattered loudly, and he started to his feet. "There! We will have news now, I hope. Do you go to the white and gold. I will admit this person." "I beg you not to do it, Luke," saia Nancy. "I, tremble every instant to hear of your aeath, and of course mine will follow sharp after." "But the gate must be opened. Hark to the dogs!" "I will send Daniel to the gate, Neither Stephen nor Marks will return hither from the street." "True, I forgot that," exclaimed Luke: "send Daniel up to me." Nancy left the library, and Daniel soon came up. "Daniel," said Hammond, "go to tbi trnte. Admit no one. If you find Stephen or the gentleman you admitted night before last, say that he must enter by the private door in the rear. If any one inquires for me or Miss Elgin, say that we are in Boston, and will not return for several days. It is after 10 o'clock-a late hour for any one to call." Daniel went on his mission, and after several moments returned with a let ter, which Hammond eagerly opened and read as follows: "Metropolitan Hotel, N. Y., "March 11th, 9 p. m. "I have warned Charles. We are certainly watched. Harriet Foss was at the wharf when we landed. She was disguised, but I knew her. We will be with you at midnight. "JOHN. MARKS." "Who gave you this?" asked Luke. "Aman don't know him never saw him hpfnrp sir" renlied Daniel. "He gave me the note and hurried away. "Very well. Now return to your post, xj 11 A m 1 1 1 1 ri 1 1 11 III ill . PJTTSBORQ, CHATHAM COUNTY, N. C THURSDAY,, SEPTEMBER 7,M5. a J. said Hammond, and as Daniel S&. parted, he continued: "But why this delay! Strange that Stephen has not returned. Ah!" he exclaimed with a sudden thought "They will come by the private entrance, and Stephen re mains to guide them. John Marks says, .'We will be with you. He must mean . himself, my son and Stephen. Patience! I must wait" We left him, many hours before, dig ging under the wall that surrounded the well. A frame less powerful than his, or a heart less bold, would have given up in despair "before the num berless obstacles he, met and overcame. At length, after many hours of labor, he was able to crawl through the trench and to come up on the other side of the wan. - And now," said James Greene, stretching himself out at full length. I must rest awhile and think. First, how long is it since I was trapped? I was trapped on the tenth, at about half past 11. ' I wound up my watch at 8 o'clock. My watch runs thirty- six hours at a stretch. Let me see if it still runs." He drew his watch from his fob, and held it to his ear. s It still runs," said he. "Therefore I am confident that I have not been a prisoner thirty-six hours, though how long I remained hanging senseless in the well I cannot tell. It is altogether Impossible for me to see in this horri ble darkness, nor can I tell what time it is by raising the crystal and feeling the position of the hands upon the dial. I might guess twelve hours too little or twelve hours too much. But it is very important to me to know how long I have been without food and drink. I do not feel the want of it now, tor my excitement checks hunger but not thirst. I can work a certain number of hours without food, but must grade my strength that it may hold out as long as possible. I must know what time it is. To wind np my watch requires six turnings of the key that is, my watch runs six hours for every turn. I will wind it now and make a guess of how many hours of the thirty-six are gone." He searched for his key, found it, end wound up his watch. The key turned four times exactly, and stopped. "Good!" said James Greene. "Four times six hours to every turn twen ty-four hours. I have been trapped twenty-four hours. It is, then, now about S o'clock at night, on the 11th of March. What may not have hap pened to Kate Elgin during all that time!" He rested for some time, and then rose to his feet. The place in which he stood allowed him to stand fully erect. 'Water! anything for water!" said he; "I shall faint without water. My tongue feels like a piece of leather. But let me find what sort of a place I am in now." Clinging close to the wall for fear of pits, Greene began his blind examina tion. Ten minutes sufficed to inform him. and he paused. "I am In a passage built of brick, fifty feet long and ten feet wide. Pos sibly once a cellar, or maybe an en closed space between the foundation Avails probably the last. Now. hw high is it?" He reached up his hand. "Say seven feet. I dare not cut my way through the floor. Wood makes a terrible noise. I shalj have to dig through or under another wall. This passage is so long, that I think I had better work at the end. If I dig through avthe sides I may lose labor and enter another cellar. But first let us look for water." He began to feel the floor above him, walking to and fro, and sweep ing his hands about him. He was seeking for water pipes. Suddenly he almost shouted with joy. His hand grasped a slender tube, running from the ground upward. He was about to cleave it with his wedge, when he paused, saying: "It may be a gas pipe! If I cut it asunder I shall be suffocated! I do not think God has permitted me to es cape from the well to be smothered with gas. I will trust in Him and strike!" He struck bravely, and a jet of ice cold water deluged his face and hands, "Hurrah!" said Greene, quenching his thirst. "Now, if the leak Is discovered. plumbers must seek for the cause, and I shall soon make myself known. But the cutting off of the water may not be noticed for days, weeks or months. The pipe may have been used to supply a room now unoccupied. I must go to work again." - Selecting a spot, he began to loosen the bricks. Four hours' hard labor mads a breach through which he crawled. "Dark yet," said he. "I have not reached safety yet. And now let's see where we are." He was not long in exploring the place. "I am in a small stone room," said he, "fifteen feet square. I cannot reach the ceiling. I have found a place where once was a door, but a wall has been built on the other side, and the door is closed with solid stone. This must be a very old house, or this room has been left as a foundation for a new one. I find a large fire-place. The fire-place has been bricked up, but I think I may make an opening, enter and go up the chimney if it is large enough. I will begin." When Greene began at the fire place it was midnight on rhe 11th of March, and he was far below, but im mediately under the crimson cham ber. "While James Greene labors at mid night of the-llth of March, let; us re turn to Luke Hammond.whom we left impatient for that hour to arrive. To be continued. ' WW GOOD m R OA D s. ' The Paramount Question. jIOV r is taken for granted that f every citizen is interested Q I g in the discussion of the . good roads question and and the proposition that the Government of the United States shall co-operate with the. States in highway construction and improve ment. There are always political ques tions of importance, of course; but the question of good common roads is paramount to them all as an economic proposition, because it reaches all classes and callings in town and coun try. It is pregnant with interest to the consuming population of towns and cities, and to railroads, manufacturers and tradesmen as well. But the weightier consideration is, that church, school and farm interests must in evitably be retarded while road con ditions remain as they, are to-day. If the American home is to be pre served, the American farm must be fostered. The logic of this deduction will readily present itself. If Ignor ance is the parent of superstition and superstition shuts out the light from the soul that should be free, then the progress of civilization and the whole some growth of the religion ofMhe Lord depends upon the universal spread of education in the land. "The higher schools and colleges are doing a grand workr but the free -common schools are the mpre important, be cause they are the schools of the masses in which are laid the deep and lasting foundations for coming lives of usefulness and for the better ment . of mankind. The common schools are the schools of. the rural population. Whatever tends to better these schools, to make them stronger and of higher curriculum, to give great er efficiency and better discipline, and to make them easily accessible all the time, should be the concern of every patriotic citizen. Nothing can possibly conduce so much to these results as improved highways. Neither rural church or school, nor 3-et the farm, can flourish where impassable roads abound, and if these cannot flourish our free institutions will soon or late topple and fall. The question of na tional aid to good roads is one the Government cannot afford to ignore much longer. The necessity for it is so apparent that it is without the do main of controversy. Statesmen and philosophers know that good roads develop good people. Improvement of highways means not only advance ment of commercial interests, but also moral welfare. The highways are the paths along which civilization and de velopment move. "Wide Tires. One of the means of improving the condition of the highways which is of importance, but generally disregarded, is the use of wide tires on drays and wagons carrying heavy loads. Such tires are of great value in rolling the surface of the road and avoiding -the formation of ruts. The belief that in creasing the width of the tire increases the draft probably arises from the fact that as a rule the increase in width of tire is accompanied by a decrease in the diameter of the wheel. Of course, diminishing the diameter of the wheel increases the draft, and increasing the diameter of the wheel diminishes the draft. The radius of the wheel consti tutes the lever arm through which the power of the team acts to move the load. The shorter the lever the greater a power required to move the load. Experiments invariably show the ad vantages of wide tires on good roads, both in the less power required than with narrow tires and in the beneficial effect upon the road. As to the effect of the width of the tire, where the dia meter of the wheel remains the same, a trial was made where forty per cent, more power was required to draw a load on a wagon having one and one- half-inch tires than on a wagon having three-inch tires. Many European countries have laws regulating the width of tires. In Ger many four-inch tires are required for heavy loads. In France the tires must be from three to ten inches, according to the load, and the front axle must be shorter than the rear axle to prevent "tracking." In Austria wagons carry ing two and a quarter tons must have tires at least four and one-third inches wide, and every load over four and a half tons must be carried on tires six and one-fourth inches in width. Switz erland has similar regulations. In some sections of the United States laws have been enacted regulating the width of tires on wagons carrying heavy loads, but in many instances they are ignored. There seems to bo a general awaken ing upon the subject of improved roads throughout the country, and more lib oral appropriations for, this purpose should be made in the future than have been made in past. On the contrary, however, at present, roads once good are not being kept up as they should be. It will not improve the financial condition if roads are not kept good to facilitate the marketing of produce, It is poor economy to let made roads fall into bad order, for it is an e::p?n sive matter taking . them up again. However, this year is an exceptional time for tightness of cash, and a little patience must be exercised in the mat ter of reads. Along with a general irn provement ic road mat ters there should be developed a better appreciation of the importance and value of wide tires in road improvement, that laws may be made on the subject and gradually brought into force. The subject nesds frequent and earnest discussion in or der to secure this. Journal Jamaica Agricultural Society. 00 . . - LACE OF NATURE'S MAKING; A Fabric That Is Airily Light Woven of Various Tree Barks. There are in all about ft half a dozen lace-bark trees in the world, so-called because the inner bark yields a natural lace in ready-made sheet form which can be made up In serviceable articles of apparel. Only four of these, curious species of trees are of much practical value. Tourists who have stopped at Ha waii or Samoa' may recall the lace-' bark clothing of the natives clothing of a neat brown color when new, of re markable strength and of a fragrant odor, like freshly cured tobacco leaf. The native "tapa" cloth, as it is called, is made from the bark of the Bruso netia papirifera, but is not usually included among the real lace-bark trees.v , - Of the lace-bark trees yielding a pure snowy lace of utility, we have on the Pacific side of the hemisphere the Sterqulia acerifolia of Australia (also called "flame tree," "in allusion to its showy red flower), -and in Maori Land, the Plagianthus betulinus. On the At lantic side there Is only one lace-yield ing tree so far known the Lageta lin teria of the Caribbean Islands. Of the Dafne tenuifolia of South America I have never been able to discover a sin gle specimen, despite careful search nor have I ever met anyone who has seen the tree growing in South America. In its natural state the lace-bark is of a most delicate cream-white tint. It is probably a kind of fibrous pith. When the outer bark is removed, it can be unfolded and unwound in one seam less piece, having a surface of a little more than a square yard. Washing and sun bleaching give it a dazzling white appearance. It has a faint, agreeable odor not unlike that of fresh. ly split bamboo. The fabric is airily light. It is used in the West Indies for mantillas, cravats, collars, cuffs, window curtains; in a . word, for every purpose that ordinary lace is used. In making up shawls, veils and. the like it is customary to piece two sheets of lace-bark together. Delicate and apparently weak as it is in" single mesh, a bit of lace-bark, if rolled into- a thin string, will all but resist hu man strength to break it. In string, braided, and rope form it is used for making up the light lace-bark harness of the tropics. Despite its practical use, there is no essential -demand for lace-bark any more than for the edelweiss of the Alps. It has been used by the natives for hundreds of years, and yet Is com paratively little known to this day. A few specimens of the lace-bark articles are believed to exist in different coun tries of Europe. These were made some hundreds of years ago, yet, although their age Is considerable, they are said to be in a good state of pres ervation. Scientific American. Willie's Mistake. Speaking . of the turtles that were recently found in Jersey, bearing dates of fifty and sixty years ago, recalls an incident that once occurred on 'the farm of the late Henry I. Deacon, a well-to-do and Influential resident of the land beyond the Delaware. A youngster, who was fond of roam ing over the fine, well-kept farm, found a turtle one day and it occurred to him to make it one of the ancient date. Nothing short of .the George Wash ington era would do. So, taking out his penknife, the boy inscribed, "G. W., 1776," on the reptile's shell. The cutting, of course, looked very modern, but this was easily remedied by ruo bing it in niud and polishing it on the grass. This done to the satisfaction of the boy, he rushed to the jolly-faced farm er, exclaiming: "Look, Mr. Deacon, I just found a turtle more than 100 years old with George Washington's initials on the shell!" ' "Thee has?" said, Mr. Deacon, hold ing out his hand for the turtle. v"Yes, sir," returned the youngster with a very straight face. The good old farmer glanced at the reptile just one second, and then burst out into a merry laugh. "Willie, thee fool," said he, "that turtle isn't half grown." Philadelphia Telegraph. N Docs In the Ambulance Service. The Austro-Hungarian War Dogs Club has just held its first show of dogs for war and ambulance service. The highest officers of the army wit nessed the performances of the dogs. Soldiers had dispersed all over the field of action, and were concealed behind hedges, among shrubs and bushes. These were supposed to be the wound ed. The dogs found them all, and. either stayed with them and barked if the trainers were near enough to hear them, or ran for the trainer when the distance was too long. Then they were sent with messages contained in a locket fastened to their collars, to which they had to bring answers. New York World. The British Speaker. Not only does the Speaker of the House of Commons enjoy the material benefits of a lordly residence at West minster Palace, a salary of 500- a year, 100 a year for stationery and 2000 ounces of plate on election, but he enjoys the less substantial advantage of taking precedence of all other com moners. By an act of 1689 it was pro vided that the Lords Commissioners of the Great Seal not being peers "shall have and take place next after the peers of the realm and the Speaker of the - House of Commons." London Chronicle. Poets and Irresponsibility. Poets are wayward creatures, large-' Iy Irresponsible for their actions, or, at all events, provided with such a curi ously sensitive and inflammable organ ization that we feel it would be unjust to judge them by ordinary standards. London. Telegraph.. Circular Sktrts and .New Coats. - Hand in hand with the flounced mod els - there comes one most attractive new one which presents a skirt with unbroken lines from waist to hem. This is of circular cut, and the original is in a heavy white satin, one of the tints that are catalogued as "vieux blanc," or old white. The bodice is en tirely of white double chiffon bretelled with lace, but the skirt shows a glor ious decoration in the bold design that is worked with ribbon and chiffon, strands of each being used just as sew ing or embroidery silk would be. The ribbon makes the stems and foliage, and the roses are done in pale pink chiffon stands, the whole standing out in artistic relief against the dead-white satin background. .. The coat of all kinds and many col ors is making history for itself in the current fashions. Indeed, to such an extreme does it seem to be pushing it self that one rather expects that this season shall go down in history sar torial as the coat summer, just as the time of two years ago is now referred to as the white summer. From' the shortest little "dinkey-doo" affair that ends its abbreviated career ere it reaches the waistline, down to the full-length surtout that covers up the entire toilette, the coat is an indis pensable part of the summer wardrobe. Some of them there be that are surely not the slightest protection against wind or weather, such as the little un lined Jace coats that are added rather as a finishing touch to the toilette an afterthought but which are wonder fully effective, nevertheless. But oth ers, again? while light in weight and texture, such as the silky mohairs and the lustrous Siciliennes, to say nothing of all the broadcloths and the raw silk weaves, are really of some use, as well as the generous measure of chic which they add to one's appearance. Newark Advertiser, , Latent Thine In Blues. Last summer Miss Roosevelt visited the fair and made white linen and white automobile veils famous. This y.ear she made a very early appear ance in a washable gown of peculiar blue. Some enterprising tradesman immediately proceeded to make the "Alice blue" famous, according to the Washington Times. "And dear me!" says the fretful girl, "just when my modiste told me that everything was to be rose colored. 1 think it very inconsiderate of fashion to be so capricious. There was noth ing to do. I had to put aside my rose colored linen for another season. I could not afford to have both made up. There is one cheery consideration," as she smiled the clouds away. "One could never have jthe blues is a gown of Alice blue. It is just the most be coming shade of blue you ever saw." Alice blue is neither baby blue nor navy. It is a medium between pale blue and military blue. A woman of taste who recently bought linen of the best quality for a gown and who de sired it. to be exactly the prescribed shade.had her laundress wash the mat terial and hang it in the sun. The goods as she purchased it was a de gree too dark, but after a tub and sunbath was still a distinct true blue, but with the softest silvery lights up on it. "They may tell you what they please," said she, '"I never yet have seen a linen that would not fade a trifle from washing and wearing. Now mine has had a dip and will change very little more in tone." The favored, blue shade appears in everything from organdies to poplins. Parasols, gloves, and hats are domi nant in the latest popular color of fashion. More especially is it attrac tive, though, in the linen gowns for general wear through the summer. Every girl with blue eyes should have a gown of Alice blue. Tako Sunshine Baths. Recent statistics show that the death rate from' consumption is less than it was ten years ago, ana not be cause we have found aay specific in drugs, but because we know the dead ly enemy of the tubercule is sunlight, and that they will not flourish in a per son who breathes deeply of fresh- air and who is well nourished. In 1890 Dr. Koch clearly showed that these bacilli are kHled by sunlight la "from a few. minutes to several hours, ac cording to the thickness of the layer.' The tubercule bacilli are. of course, microscoDic. Thev are destitute of chlorophyll, they love darkness. Even diffused daylight will destroy them, but not nearly so quickly as sunlight If every housekeeper decided to war against this enemy, to open up every closet and dark room, to the beneficent nower of sunshine, to exercise daily in the open air, to give Intelligent thought to the admittance of fresh air at night and train the children "in the way they should go," another gen eration would see a much more rapid yielding of the great white plague. And evidently, just as the wild beasts of the forests give way as civilization advances, this minute but deadly mi crobe would be unable to maintain it self in its struggle for existence, and would most certainly be subdued. Good Housekeeping. Club Women on Women'4 Clubs. "In the reams that have been writ ten about women's clubs, nothing has ever appeared that was more amusing to the jveU-Informed, intelligent 4 - jtye Cliatljam tUcotb RATES OF ADVERTISING, ' One square, one insertion $1.00 One square, two insertion! 160 One square, one month 8 50 For Larger Advertise- x merits Liberal Con tracts will be made. woman that ex-President Cleveland's recent article on "Woman's Mission and Woman's Clubs," says Helen M. Winslow; in the Delineator. "A man; may be thoroughly posted on sub- ects of national Importance on finance, good government, the equip ment and management of wars, on the administration of justice, on the duties even that appertain to th highest office in the United States and yet, he may know so little about what the women of his country are- doing and the real purpose and accom plishment of the club movement as to make him the poorest authority in the land on the topics." Mr. Cleveland makes the mistake that used to be common among men but it is happily, now obsolete with most of his sex that a woman's club and a man's club are comparable, whleh, as well informed persons know nowadays, is not and never was true. Therefore, he starts his argument upon false premises. Miss Winslow then pro ceeds to recount some of the good that the women's' club has done and is do ing to-day. And it may be said, by the way, that she makes out something of a case for the club movement. Philosophy of Clothes. The 9SB of the blue stocking has passed and nowadays the woman who dresses unbecomingly through choice. and not for the sake of economy. Is retrarded as either mentally weak or as seeking some eccentric form of self- advertisement, which Is but another phase of unpardonable vanity, says the Indianapolis News. ; In the commercial world the dowdy. insignificant woman, even if she has mental ability, is at a discount when compared with the well dressed woman, confident and smiling, with bright capacity written all over her comely person. The latter has learned an essential fact that confidence is born of good clothes and therefore, with the genuine brain power, reasons the necessity of making the most or an her gooa points. B.v doing this she engenders the feel ing that her dress adds to her appear ance, she knows that It Is finished la everv detail, and thus assured, her business assumes first importance and success is gained by the forgetfulness of self. The woman orator, the actress, . the singer, the musician, all understand "the philosophy of clothes" as a pow erful adjunct to their personality. And this personality is to them of as par amount importance as their own indi vidual gifts. . Embroidered Waists.' Ever so many embroidered waists are worn. These waists may be bought ready, made ud. or they may be had in boxes ready to make up, or one may have the linen or other material stamped and do it oneself. - in this case embroidery Is done as much as possible in the Japanese fash ion, soft yet heavy in appearance, ine pattern is confined to the fronts and the turn-over collar and cuffs. Phila delphia . Record. j-iju' A wisp of white ostrich tips goes W make it an ideal picture hat. Of colors, blue threatens to be as much the rage as was brown last win ter. In the way of accessories the new, white linen shopping bags are among the latest novelties. With the popular check gowns, warn pum chains finished with an elephant'! tooth for a pendant. . New coats of lace trimmed with vel vet bows are going to be a feature of evening dress, says the Rochester Post" Express. . i Very, cool and fresh-looking are the checked voile dresses made over lawn slips and inserted generously with Val enciennes. . Buckles and cabochons for hats in Indian bead work, showing pale pink flowers on a blue ground, or vice versa, with a dash of gold. A black and white check parasol, finished with a puff of pompadour rib bon, in turquoise blue with pink roses and a black border. Elderly women are wearing to a great extent white fine fichus with their black satin gowns, and also dainty white collars and cuffs. The long plain coats are being trimmed with elaborate collars and cuffs, sets of real lace and also with touches of handsome buttons. A pretty idea for bridesmaids is fox them to carry a rope of smiiax in their right hands and to have their bou quets arranged on their left arm. Very long skirts are not now in fash ion, and the raund length skirts flare as -much as possible, aad must be very full at the bottom, and also sufficiently ample at the centre of the back. Among the boggar children of south ern Italy there Is rarely one who looks ill-fed. Though food is scarce, the sun shine and the'. life in the open air do much toward nourishing their bodies. .1
The Chatham Record (Pittsboro, N.C.)
Standardized title groups preceding, succeeding, and alternate titles together.
Sept. 7, 1905, edition 1
1
Click "Submit" to request a review of this page. NCDHC staff will check .
0 / 75