.i
M
WHO'S DEALT
Excuse me for stopping you here, sir; I'd like
just a word, if you please;
There's crape on the front door yonder, and
a hearse standing under the trees.
Perh aps you're a friend of the dead, sir I eee
you've a hand on your hat
viiil I'd likejnst to askyou a question, Who's
dead in the Kennedy flat?
, quaint with the folks? fVell, yes, rather;
jr'aps better than most as is there;
X;..-ri''sDiek and there's Sam and there's Billy,
arid mother no wonder you stare,
It slippfd out afore I could help it; I ain't
lipcii myself all the day
V -i may have heard tell of the bad 'un, the
drunkard, as went away?
Vuu've not? Well, it's like them three fellows
to hide all they can of my shame,
A:: 1 just like that dearest of mothers to let
no one blacken my name;
Wi soiled enough, God is ray witness, but
. l'-anse it I will if I can;
I'-..- done with the whiskey forever, and come
back to mother a man!
jo: back! Aye, to stand here and tremble,
and tfaze ;lt the crape on the door.
i,Me him as is dead might be living had the
truant but come bark before,
i 'r'.ips the thoughts of a wrongdoin' brother
rnadehim grievewhen theDocwasn't there,
:, i hey say that in sickness a heartache
an undo the tenderest care.
' iii e. toll me, who's dead at the flat, sir?
Nay, don't think by shaking your head
i 'ii 'it you're letting a fellow down easy, for I
know that there's one of 'em dead,
i :.-y all was good boys to their mother, and
either is bound to be missed,
I hough to tell you the truth I half fancy
alu'd cry more for me than the rest.
i ha' is always the way with the women; the
one that's deserving no love
'j-ry into their hearts' warmest corner, their
prayers to the father above.
.! when brother's coffin is fastened i ll lay
her dear face on ruy own
: t-il her that frod's wrought a wonder to
make up for him that has flown,
i 1 w Jitrii this new grief's a bit over I'll tell
Hist to show her, you know,
i h it the liquor as hardened my life left my
hi-art i till as soft as the snow
i v,ii! t'll how, wherever Iwandcred, her voice
seamed to ring in my ears;
ii -jw I've slept vsirh her lips on my forehead
tnj waked with her eyes full of tears.
i ' . r v.- patted, you know, not in anger, I just
v, ,-nt away for n time,
'(riling mother ray bad reputation made
-hiving at home seem a crime.
1 no ambi ion, nor nothing: but soon a
!f w life I began,
v.-l irmv I am here in her sorrow her very
i ;.il ot a man!
M v h , Tvl - .--eeni kind of affect in', I see that
:! NT you can feel.
J: i too many mothers' hearts breaking
"Ii grief that they try to conceal;
i ,;r 'viae in the house, and 1 farcy you'll see
ill rough the flood of her tears
J1- smile that ha lived in my inem'ry all
through these unfortunate years.
!ih' What? God above! You are ghastlyl
Don't say Oh, I see't in your face!
Moke way for the drunkard, good people
tit now for a mother's embrace.
The same! See the smile on her face, sir; but
hut God's kissed away every tear.
1 don't care what joys are in heaven, her an
gel thoughts now are right here.
Thomas Frost, in New York Herald.
"FIVE O'CLOCK.'
1 don't know what chance it was that
t i Allan Reinsert through the uiarket
itll on that sunny June morning; but
-i. Mealy he caught a glimpse of some
:hing that brought him to a standstill.
It was only a i'ruit and vegetable stall,
i. 'ie tastefully arranged than most of
them; but Allan was something of an
::ti-t. and the picture pleased him. The
Yinler green peas, and heaps of curly let
lure, contracted prettily with the growing
rim-on of raspberries, piled in open
h i-ki-tc. There was the emerald of goose
''tiriev. the clear scarlet of currants, the
; an . greenih-gold of early apples. Red
;!.! white radishes reposed amidst the
: i-j leaves of spicy cress. that looked as if
:t had that moment been gathered from
i - ,,ol waters of some meadow brook.
y". u-trrs of silvery onions gleamed like
lik .i! pearl amidst the heads of savoy
il'i'itto . And in the centre of the stall
i'-e a pyramid of red and black cherries,
' : wncd with a great cluster of fragrant
An old woman, with a rosy, wrinkled
!'.-e, and neat datk dre-s, sat behind the
-hu:, quietly knitting. A younger one,
LM' rough straw hat hid her face, was
j uring raspberries into the basket of a
a! little woman, in rusty black.
Allan Remseu stood looking at the
hrttty -.cene, with an approaching gleam
a his daik c cs.
Thank you! Oh, thank you! My
i' ut , sick boy will enjoy them so much,"
-..id a hw quivering voice.
The eld w oman looked up, and nod
ied with a kindly smile.
o; .He very welcome, Mis. Martin,'
he -uul. in u cordial, motherly tone.
And I hope thev will help make him
well." add, , the young girl. Then she
tained. readied over to' the bunch oi
hlies. and divw out a long stalk ot
h-0oms. "Is ht- tond of flowers?" she
akcd. a- -he held the lilies in her hand.
'ery tond of them," tlie little woman
sud.
1 he i:ul Mailed, and laid the lilies ii
the basket.
" Y oi lirtht give him these, and tell
ami he will -oon be well enough to go
ut into the country, and see the flowers
'growing," she said."
"Oh. my dear, how kind vou are!"
And the poor woman put her hand over
her eve- and burst out suddenly into
sobs.
During this little episode, Allan's eves
had never left the girl's face. Such a
sweet. fresh, girlish face, with eyes as
hiue as forget-me-nots, and tender little
-iuiiples coming and going on the cheeks
that were so softly tinged with rose color.
What did it matter "that tlie fair head
vas covered by a coarse straw hat, with
lull brown ribbons, and that the slender
Jgure was clothed in a dress of v dark
jrint, and a prosaic white apron? The
$irl was beautiful for all that and good
is an angel. And this is why Allan for
got the jostling crowd about him, and
itood staring at the pretty market-girl.
"Do you wish for anything, sirf" said,
i voice at his elbow.
Allan started and looked around. The
ld woman had risen, and was leaning
over the stall, and transfixing him with a
pair of keen black eyes.
"No yes I beg your pardon," he
aalf stammered. Then, recovering him
self, he laughed.
"Yes, I want some cherries, and a
bunch of lilies, if you please," be said,
politely.
"We didn't bring the lilies to sell, sir
only to set off the fruit."
"Ah, you are quite an artist, I see,"
Allan ventured to say. "I never saw a
itall so prettily arranged. Was it your
work, or your daughter's ?"
The black eyes suddenly transfixed hini
again, with a gleam of suspicion, as she
answered :
"My she did it. How many cherries,
sir ?"
"A pound, I suppose. And you will
not sell your lilies V
" Oh, yes, I don't care. You may have
:hem."
Then, while the old lady was adroitly
twisting up a cornucopia of brown paper,
and filling it with cherries. Allan turned
again to look at the girl. Mrs. Martin
was gone, and the young girl sat in the
'jld woman's chair. She had turned her
back, and was knitting away as tran
quilly as if no dark-eyed artist was lin
gering and watching for a sight of heT
fair young face.
" Here are the cherries, sir. and the
lilies."
The old woman's dry, cool tone was
equivalent to a quiet " now you go about
your business !" And. there was nothing
for it but to pay, and go.
So. at five o'clock in the morning,
Allan Remseu found himself leaving the
market-hall, and straying hornew ard with
a "brown paper parcel," and a spike of
white lilies in his hand. The cherries,
in a cut-glass dish, appeared on his break
fast table.
After breakfast, in the apartment he
called his studio, he proceeded to arrange
easel and canve and to sketch the out
lines of a picture to represent what he
had seen in the market.
Allan made wonderful progress with his
picture that day, but of course it was only
natural that he should wish to have another
look at his "models;" so the next morn
ing's sunrise found him threading the
crowd in the market, on his way to the
old woman's stall. Rut, alas! no blue
eyed maiden was there.
Allan bought cherries again, and en
tered into conversation with the old
woman. Her name was Mrs. Atkins.
Xo, she had no daughter; she had no
children no grandchildren. The girl
who was with her yesterday ? ( Here the
keen black eyes regarded him with sus
picion, and almost dislike.) The girl
was the daughter ol a friend, he would
not come again. Sit for her picture?
(A flash of the black eyes and an indig
nant quiver in her voice.) ''Indeed, she
would not let her if she wanted to."
There was nothing to be made of thh
brusque old person. Allan could cnl)
"beg pardon,'1 and beat a retreat.
The picture, however, continued foi
some time to progress rapidly. The glow
iug fruits, the cool freshness of the veg
c-tuble-:, the white gleam of tlie lilies, tht
quaint old woman, and the pallid, black
robed one. with the grateful, patheth
face, all were there, a; he had seen then
in the early sunlight. But the younj
gill's face? He could not get that some
how. He painted the rounded, slendei
form, in its simple daily dress, the littl
band with its sceptre of lilies, the fah
hair, half hidden under the straw hat,
but he could get no further. He had no
forgotten the face, surely '. Two or thre
times he painted in a pair of blue eyes
and dimpled, rosy cheeks, but bis litth
market-ghl was not there.
At last, out of patience with himself
he threw down his brush, covered up his
canvas, locked the studio, and rushed
off to a country house, whose mistress
had been entreating for his presence foi
weeks.
There were half a dozen girls in the
house, and Allan flirted idly with two oi
three of them. Perhaps the favorite was
Gertrude Pierpont, a sparkling brunette,
who played oft' her very prettiest airs and
graces for Allan's benefit, and soon felt
confident that she had made a captive o)
the rich and handsome artist.
People were always coming and going
at Mrs. Mortimer's and one day there ar
rived Mrs. Winslow Frceland, and hei
niece Lillis Devries.
Miss Pierpont pointed them out to
Allan, in the drawing-room, before din
ner ft stately, fashionable dame, with
piles of gray "hair, and a slender younj
lady, blonde, fair haired and fashionablj
dressed.
' " Lil Devries Is an odd girl," said Miss
Pierpont, carelessly.
' Allan glanced carelessly at the youn
lady. She was lcauiug back in a cuh
ioned chair, listening quietly to Charlit
Mortimer's chatter. She looked just i
little bored, to tell the truth. Perhaps
she was Ured, for she was pale, and hei
eyes were, cast down. Allan could set
no special beauty in her face, except i
pair of perfect brown eyebrows and verj
long lashes.
"What do you know of her, Miss Pier
pont?' asked" Allan, who heartily dis
liked insinuations.
"Oh, of course, I know no harm o)
her," she said. "One can't blame hei
for what she does. You know Mrs
Frceland is so so worldly, and well,
manauvriiig. She dresses Lil exquis
itely, but she can't do any more foi
her, and Lil knows he must marry well
So, of course, one can't blame her foi
wishing to attract attention. I confess 1
don't admire her manner much, but gen
tlemen do. And really I didn't mean tc
prejudice you against her, for Lil and 1
are great friends, you know."
Later in the evening, when he was in
troduced to Mis Freeland's niece, he
found her the centre of quite a circle of
admirers, and changed his mind as to hei
being "not at all dangerons." She was
prettier than he imagined. She had 6
fair, "spirituelle" face, and she looked
like a sea-uymphT in her dress of pale,
silverv-green gown, her saffron lace and
exquisite pink coral. Xo doubt Miss
Pierpont, in her favorite colors of "cream
and cardinal," with her gorgeous dark
eves, and splendid brunette complexion,
vc- a more radiant beauty, but she had
'Vine of the piquant charm of Mis; Dev-
And while Allan was thinking with a
smile, that she was a veiy " dangerous""
young lady, indeed, he suddeidymade a
discovery. They were talking of pic
tures and Allan mentioned Church's
lwmght in the Wilderness. .Ui-s j
Devries looked up at him v it n animation,
and a lovely color came into her cheeks.
"I do love that picture dearly !"' she
cried, with enthusiau.
Then he aw that her eyes were blue as
forget-me-nots. nd that, "with that soft
color and smile, carne little, quickly van
ishing dimples in her cheek and chin.
. Yes, kt was wry pretty, and he hacj
seen her before. But where ? He knew
he had never met Miss Dc-vrie?. Where
had li3 seen a face like hers ? In a dream,
or in picture, perhaps, but he had seen it
surely somewhere.
The fancy attracted him more strangely
to the girl, and in tlie weeks that foi
lowed he alio wed him self to be euro! led
.nnoiiost the number of Miss Devries' con
stant attcnd .nts. Xot that he was in love
with her: he would not have admitted
that. She was not the sort of woman he
mcLint to fall in love with. He had his
ideal a fresh, tender, gracious little
damsel, " good an angel."" very
di tie rent from this C3ol, piquant
"society gill." Rut she 'puzzled,
amu-ed and interested him; and so the
days stole by, and Allan had forgotten
thrt Lillis iievries wa? "dangerous."
Rut at last he found out where he had
seen her before. It happened in this
way. One moinino. between day dawn
and sunrise, a party of young people left
Mrs. Mortimer's houe to go and see the
sun rie. from a neighboring hill, from
which there was a beautiful and extended
view. The quiet meadows echoed with,
gay voices and laughter. Dainty morn-,
ing-d reuses brushed the dew from the
clover. Fair cheeks freshened in th
pure, balmy air. And Miss Pierpont, in
clear, full voice, began to ?ing,
" The old, old story was told again
At five o'clock n .he morning!"
The summit of the hill wu; reached just
a- the view was loveliest. The hill-tops
were touched with g'oid the sky was
flushed with crimson the hue of the
river changed from pearly white to rose
color. Exclamations of delight rose from
the group of ladies and gentlemen.
But Allau. whose artist's soul wa?
thrilled by the beanty of the spectacle,
wa silent. Allan, and one other i
girl, who itood with her eyes fixed
on the glowing east its crim
sou tinting her cheeks, and turning hei
white dres to rose-color.
"You never saw the sun rise before,
did you. Miss Liliis!" said young Morti
mer, laughing.
"Yes, many a lime." she said, smiling
"I saw it often this summer, when I was
in the country with my old nurse."
"Why, Lil!" cried Miss Pierpont, ic
astonishment, "do vuii reallv go to see
that old creature?"
"Indeed. I do," said Miss Devries
quietly. "I love to stay with her."
"Who i it?" asked Air. Mortimer.
"My old muse, Mrs. Atkins. She ha!
a market garden, and she has a stall it
the market. She is a dear old soul.
Auntie sends me there to keep me out o)
mischief."
There was a epiiver of laughter in tht
girl's voice as she ended, as if the idea ol
keeping her out of mischief there wa?
specially amusing.
And Allan ! What a flood of enlight
enment this sp;.j!.'( h poured into his mind;
He had found his pretty market-girl'
Found her and lost her! For she wasnol
real. She was only the fashionable,
worldly Miss Devries. masquerading.
Bui, after all, he thought, directly,
might not his sweet, warm-hearted, kindly
rustic maiden be the reality, and this fine
lady in rustling silks and fluted muslins,
with her coolness, her waywardness, hei
sarcasm, be the assumed disguise?
Two resolves he made, instantly; tc
keep the secret he had discovered : and
to find out which of these two was tht
real Lillis Devries.
In the pursuit of this last resolve, he
followed Mrs. Freelanel and her niece tc
Eastbourne, and was much with them
there. Mrs. Freeland was charmed with
his attentions to her niece, bnt Lillis
kept on her way quietly, and gave nc
sign that she was conscious of his interest
in her.
With the spring came the opening ol
the Royal Academy. It was rumored
that Allan Remseu had a picture there
and people were very anxious to see it.
When Lillis questioned him about it, he
refused to teli her what it was, but ex
acted a promise from her to be with him
on the opening day to see it. They wert
such good friends now that she readily
granted the request. So, in the sofi
spring sunshine, they went together ut
the steps of the Academy.
Allan and Lillis sauntered slowlj
around the rooms, commenting leisurely
on the pictures, neither of them con
scious, apparently, that many eyes were
fixed upon them, and many whispers cir
culating in regard to them. Even strangers
were attracted by their appearance, foi
Allan's handsome, dark face and air oi
ease and distinction, would have made
him remarkable anywhere; and as
for Lillis, it is probable that she had
never looked so pretty in her life as she
did that morning in her faultless spring
eostume of pearl color and pale blue, with
a soft flush on her cheek and her eyes
sparkling with animation.
"But where is your picture ? I am
impatient to see that."' she said, once oi
twice.
"Presently. We are coming to it,"
Allan answered. J
Then the crowd seemed to thickeu a
little. There was evidently some picture
of more than usual interest near them.
Allan skilfully made a way for Lillis
through the crowd, until she could see
what it wa-.
A scene in a market-place a fruit and
vegetable stall a rosy-cheeked old wo
man behind iJ, and a young girl, with a
cluster of white lilies in her hand, look
ing with a kindly smile at a pale, black
robed woman, wit h a sad. gnitef ul face. A
flood of morning sunshine lit up the whole
pretty scene, and in black letters on tht
frame appeared the title:
"-File O'clock in the 'Morning."
A very simple and innocent pictuie.
surelv. vet when Lillis saw it she started,
flushed crimson, and glanced eagerly up
at her companion,
t "What does it mean? Is is this your
picture ?" she inquired in a hurried tone,
very different from her usual cool com.
posure.
Allan nodded with a smile of intense
but quiet amusement.
"It is my picture."' he said; "and it
means that I know your secret. Miss
Devries, and you are in my power."
Then Miss Devries haughtily turned
her face from him, and walked away
from the picture.
"You needn't try to escape me," he
whispered, laughing, as he followed her.
But she would'cot Took at him. She did
not stop till she had crossed the room,
and stood before the " portrait of a gen
tleman," a stout individual, with staring
yes and apoplectic appearance.
She stood gazing silently up at the ru
bicund countenance of the "gentleman,"
until Allan's laughing voice reached hei
ears again.
"So you prefer that old party up
there, to my picture. I am very sorry
you don't like my work," he said.
"I don"t like it,"' she said, at last, em
phatically. "I don't know how you
found it out, but it was not geneious cf
you to betray me in thi way. Xow,
every one will discover about my absurd
freak, and "
"Xo, I think not,' broke in Allan,
eagerly. "They will not find out that;
but I will tell you what thev will see,
plainly ! "
"What?" asked Lillis, still gazing at
the "portrait of a gentlemen," and look
ing very pale now.
Allan bent his head to answer her.
"They will see that I love you, with all
my heart, or I could not have painted
you as I have done." he said, iu a passion
ate undertone.
Absolute silence followed this announce
ment. Perhaps the stout gentleman who was
etaring into Mis3 Devries' blue eyes,
knew whether she was pleased or angry,
but Allan did not. Presently he spoke
again.
"Why don't you answer me?" he said,
trying to see her averted face.
"You have not asked me any question,"
Miss Devries replied, coolly but he could
just see her cheek turning a faint pink.
Allan started, and laughed.
"Xo, I haven't!" he cried. Then
very quietly he said: "Mi3 Devries, will
you be my wife? "
And the lady answered as calmly : "Mr.
Remsen, I will think about it."
"Very well!" he said. "I will you
five minutes to consider. At the end of
that time if you agree, you will please
drop that glove you hold."
He drew out his watch and glanced
at it, put it back into his pocket, and
stood silently beside her. Lillis did not
look at him at all. She was apparently
still absorbed iu the aitistic
merits of the portrait befoie her.
Presently Allan looked at his watch
again.
w" Three minutes gone," he murmured,
sadly.
Then Miss Devries turned restless. She
walked away from the portrait, leaving
Allan before it. She sauntered three yards
and then saunteredback. She looked at
Allan's quiet, dark face, and her fingers
closed tightly on the little pearl-colored
glove she held.
"Four miiiutcs." said Allan, c-nd then
he looked siaight down into her eyes.
His very soul wits iu those daik, earnest
eyes of hers, and Lillis av; it. Sheturned
awav from him again, and neither spoke,
until Allan said gently: " Five minutes !'5
and slipped his watch back into his
pocket.
Then Lillis raised her hand, held the
glove softly to her lips for an instant, and
dropped it to the floor. Mr. Remsen
stooped to pick it up. and kept it in his
hand. To the rowd that jostled them,
it h.oked like the most accidental trans
action in the world.
"How I envied that blessed old paity,
with the goggle eves, this morning, "said
Allan, when the time was two hours later,
autl the scene Mrs. Freeland's drawing
room.
"Who?" said Lillis, with a puzzled
look.
"The portrait of a gentleman that you
persisted in looking at so long," ex
plained Allan.
"Why did you envy him I" innocently
asked Lillis.
"Because he was staring straight at my
darling's face, when I would have given
anything to see it," was Allan" answer.
"I don"t think you would have liked
the expression there, if you had seen it,"
Lillis said, shaking her head. "I was
verv anorv witn vou. even alter
But, oh," Allan, you must take your pic
ture away from the Academy."
"And burn it?" asked Allan, with a
laugh.
"X-no," hesitated Lillis, smiling.
"You may keep it."
"I will keep it. love, in memory , of
that blessed morning, when I first saw
my Lil, who loves Tier old nurse and
gives her pocket money away in charity.
You see, I know all about it, dear. Mrs.
Atkins has told inc."
Allan stopped to laugh at Lillis's as
tonished face.
"Yes, I have been to see Mrs. Atkins,
and more than once. We are srreat
friends now, though she did think me
very impertinent once, because I stared
at you. By the way, Lil, did you see
me?" he asked.
"Xo, I did not see you at all," Lillis
said, "but dear old Margie told me about
you afterwards. And Allan," she cried,
going off into sudden laughter, "nurse
said you had a 'villainous countenance,'
and that she knew you were a 'scamp.' "
"I hope you are not of her opinion
with regard to my countenance, Miss
Devries," said Allan with mock gravity.
Lilli raised her "forget-me-not" eyes
to his. and looked at him with the dimp
ling smile and blush she had worn the
first instant he saw her. She looked so
very lovely then that Allan quietly took
her in his arms and kissed her. It could
not have been the first time either, for
the young lady was neither surprised nor
shocked.
This ceremony being over, billi-gravely
made a remark.
"But tell me which ou love the best
your "pretty market-girl or Mis Dev
ries;" "I love my 'wife,' who is all that is
charming in both those jr-linage. But
I shall always be glad that I met her at
'five o'clock iu the morning.' " The
Home.
It is fortunate thit charit covers a imihi ude
of titiP, for !u tUee days th re in a multitude
to cover.
MSWS AND NOTES FOR WOMEN.
There eems to be a craze for red.
Bonnets continue to grow smaller, hats
larger.
Colored stones are coming more into
fashion.
Masculine fashions are ra2ing among
tht women.
Xow we are having tartan surahs for
summer silk?.
Full wreaths of flowers without foliace
encircle many toques and turbsni of vel
vet. A velvet ihciug i u?ed with summer
rose and blackbird wings for trim
ming. Veilings with black velvet dots are
worn to imitate the "patches" of bysone
times.
The fishing dress is now an accepted
fact in the summer wardrcbs of macv
women.
Queen Victoria's stock of India shawls
for wedding presents ba become ex
hausted. Xew tailor-made bodices oi striped
material have the darts taken in the lin
ing only.
Married women wear the smallest pos
sible bonnets, young girls the largest hats
they can find.
Little pads ale uj?d to support the top
of fur sleeves made tip of the softest
woolen goods.
Bonnet are strmgless. or they have
mere strips for strings but strings, like
veils, are optional.
The tendency to showy flower-laden
bats is so great as to tax the milliners to
supply the demand.
Black Leghorn hats trimmed with a
wreath of butteicups or daisies are worn
by the smallest girls.
v elvet forms a part of many or most
summer hats and bonnets, or it trims
them, mingled with flowers.
The latest Xew York caper is to array
pet dogs in the choicest of floral blooms
when taken out for an airing.
Many open lace-patterned woolens will
be worn. They are very pretty," being
wholly or partly transparett.
AH new jackets are longer than those
of list year, and are fitted more closely
about the hips and in the back.
Accordion plaited lace cape are
trimmed with bands of ribbon and have
ribbon bows and shoulder straps.
The newest "woven wind" tissue is of
pale yellow silk, shot with gold, and
takes the name of "sunbeam gauze."
Little girls wear accordion-plaited
dresses, th- blouse and sleeves, as well as
the skirt, being made of the plaiting.
The embroidered nainsook gown 13 as
much iu demand this aunimer as last for
girl graduate and commencement wear.
A plaiting of black lawn underneath
the hem of the skirt, so that it cannot be
seen, is a great protection to a walking
uress.
Of the more than 4000 students who
have joined the volunteer movement for
foreign missions about one-quarter are
women.
The money annually spent for cosme
tic s by the women of this country would
paint 17,000 houses, allowing $75 for
each house.
Some American and many English
mothers insist on short, veiy short skirts
for all their daughters under fourteen
years of age.
Except for very young children, the
Gresnaway bonnets have given place to
iarge poke hat of soft felt , heavy with
ostrich plumes.
Mrs. Langtry says: "A woman of the
deadest white skin, with light blue eyes
and pale biond hair, becomes a poem
in a yellow gown."
The Duchess of Albany, widow of ths
Queen's invalid son, took a regular
course as hospital nurse, and has just
received her diploma.
In Denmark most of the girls art
trained iu agriculture, which is there an
important industry. The owners of farms
receive pupils who undergo a regular
training .
"Marion Hariand, " the author, is Mrs.
Mary V. H. Terhune in real life. She is
the wife of a Brooklyn clergyman, and is
a tall woman . with gracious manners and
a dignified presence.
Mrs. Mary T. Holmes is one r t the
most indefatigable travelers among
women authors. She has recently com
pleted a year's toui of the world and is
now going to Aiaskw.
The beauty spotted veil i a tremendous
success. There are not more than three
spot9 in a veil, which can be shifted
round so as to locate the black disc of
chenille on the chic, cheek or forehead.
Little butterfly knots of bright rib
bon are considered chic tied about the
handle? ot parasols, along the sleeves of
mull and lace dresses, and perched on
the shoulders at the belt, and diagonally
across the corsage of summer dresses.
Women inventors appear very often
on the Patent Office records, and one of
them who succeeded in pushing through
an improvement in an eye glass spring is
?aid to have made a very comfortable
fortune by the crystallization of her ideas
in practical form.
The two principal prizes in landscapes
given to the British Royal Academy stu
dents have been taken by women, and a
third female student carried off a prize
of $250 for a decorative design in water
color. The work of the male students
wa still very good.
Mrs. Wanamaker has introduced a new
fad in Washington, and has a class of
young women meet at her residence twice
a month, where a professor of physical
grace from abroad teaches them how to
walk, to go up and down stairs, to bow,
to smile, toniakr eyes, and to dispose of
the hands.
Mme. Patti sleeps with a silk handker
chief round her neck. She uses a very
saity aaifcie of cool water every morning.
Mme. Aibani-fiye says that drug- are
useless. She gargles her throat with ice
water every few hours and gets ua
mediate relief. For huikiness she me
gelatine drops.
A wcndertul pin to U stuck in au
evening bodice the facsimile of a hand
mirror. The glass part is formed of that
very unusual stone, a flat diamond. It
is framed iu tiny diamonds, and the
handle i of diamonds :-. little larger. So
clear is the large one thut forms the glass
that one could, with perfect success, put
a minature photograph under it, and it
would be exact! v a if a face were re
presented.
WISE WORDS.
Xot to love is not to live.
Look up, and you will climb up.
Life without hope is living death.
Selfishness is the assassin of the soul.
If you live to die, you will die to live.
It i not the crown that makes the
King.
If 3'our heart is wrong, your life will
be wrong.
Xot to love the gooel is a proof that
you are bad.
If you want to bear the cross easily,
don't drag it.
The real giant is the man who over
comes himself.
The poorest mau on earth is the one
who has the fewest trials.
The incomprehensible are the things
most admired and desired.
People who elevate themselves by flat
tering each other are like balloons packed
with ice for ballast.
One half of the world i steeped in
sentiment and the other half languishes
in a dull respectability.
Most people who make a business of
casting bread upon the waters expect it
to come back pound-cake.
A man can determine how much au
thority he should have by a comparison
with how much he can bear.
It is a law that all bread cast upon the
waters shall return : but expectation often
grows weary waiting for the tide.
A perfect gentleman is the noblest
work of society. The perfect man be
longs to an order of things not yr t.
For one man to ask another to vote'
for him, it is equivalent to asking him to
breathe for him, or earn a living for.
him.
One often thinks of a pretty man,'
"What a nice little woman lie would-,
make." But never of a mannish woman,
"What a manly man."
If people are only free to do what they
are taught, the principle of freedom is
destroyed by teaching, and the moral re
sponsibility rests with the teacher.
A Female Tilot.
A woman has been licensed as a pilot
on the Ohio and Monongahela Rivers.
She h the first one within the icroilcction
of Captain Xeeld. of the Steamboat In
spector's office, and his memory of Rivei
events covers many years. It is uot uu
likely that she is the pioneer of her sex
in this branch of navigation in this di
vision of the river trade.
The woraau is Mrs. Callie L. French,
and her husband runs a circus, which he
transports by water in a trim little
steamer known as French's Xew Sensa
tioD. The circus is known by the sanit
name. The license was issued to Mi,
French, and she went on duty under it
at once. About nine years ago," said
Mrs. French, "my husband hit upon tht
scheme of running a boat show ; that is,
giving exhibitions in towns along the
river and using the boat for transporting
the outfit and furnishing living quarter!
for our people. It is much cheaper,
cleaner and pleasauter thau traveling bj
i ail, and we are not obliged to remove
our personal baggage. The first few years
we employed a regularly licensed pilot,
and my husband, who had a master's
license, had charge of the boat. I then
conceived the idea of learning to be a
pilot and thus save a big item of ex
pense. So I did, aud for half a dozen
years past I have held a pilot's license. 1
recently made application for a master"?
license" also, at X'ew Orleans, and I ex
pect to get it." Pitisbury Commercial
Gazttte. "
Marriage of Two Giants.
It was a grotesque wedding that was
celebrated the other evening in the
dining-rocm of a boarding-house on
West "Sixth street that is patronized al
most exclusively by museum performers
and freaks. The high (extra) contract
ing parties were Fred A. Shields, one of
the Texas Tall Brothers, who is a hand
breadth over seven feet in height, and
Mme. Anna O'Brien, nee Parsons, the
German giantess, who doesn't yield an
inch to her husband in height. She is
the widow of the late lamented Patrick
O'Brien, the Irish giant. When they
faced the minister, good Dr. Henderson,
of the Trinity M. e7 Church, who never
dreamed of claiming over five feet and a
couple of inches, the sight was simply
ludicrous. When he asked the needful
questions he shouted upward, and their
responses were whispered down in the
modest tones of bashful giants, making
it seem as if the conversation was being
carried on by two big people in a second
story window and a little man down on
the doorstep. He did not attempt to hold
hi9 hands over their heads in benedic
tion, as no ladder was convenient,
and the posture would be ungraceful.
After the ceremony Nast Toomey and
Thomas Wright signed the certificate,
and the party tat down to a wedding
supper, the ponderous lover3 at the head
of the table, serving the guests as though
they were grown-up children. The giant
heneymooners start out on their bridal
tour with a circus. Cincinnati Enquirer
Australian -ettlcrs complain that there
h v been a great decrease in destructive
insects since the English sparrows ar
rived and uruve out the native birds.
In JbbO thp United State had a larger
percentage t foreigners than any othei
count rz in the woild.
v."