Evening Star Newspaper, June 10, 1893, Page 16

16 THE EVENING STAR: D. C., ATURDAY, JUNE 10, 1893—EIGHTEEN PAGES. I WOMANS WORLD. 4 Fashion That Lends Itself to All| the ince Ages and Styles. SHOULDER LACE DRAPINGS. Suited to Stout and Matronly Outlines as ‘Well as Slender Beiles—Various Ways of Making Effective Draping—Method in Management. Special Correspondence of The Evening Star. New You, June 9, 1893. HERE NEVER HAS been a fashion that so lends itself to all ages, types and styles as does the present popular one of shoulder drapings of Ince. At first thought the fashion is particu- larly adapted to the very young and slender <figure, but that is the ‘case with all styles. As a matter of fact,this one 1 is almost equally well suited to the stout and matronly outline, the young, plump figure, or the squareness of child- hood. It all depends on the way you put the lace on, and since you may put it on nearly any way you like, it is your own fault if you do not get the right effect. The initial picture shows one method. The neck of this pretty house dress is cut V shaped in front only, and made much more dressy by the addi- tion of a dainty lace fichu. The iatter has a foundation of silk. on which is put first a lace frill, then a second ruffie. shirred in the center three times, and the other side lies on the neck in the form of a smaller rufile. The ends are adorned by along white ribbon. which is car- tied around to the back and then to the front again, where it ties in a bow with long ends HOW To DRAPE THE LACE. Another way, and one of the simplest of the many pretty ones, is to have just a gathering in tpauletie style on the tops of the shoulders to five the required full effect at the tops of the ‘rms and yet not to interfere with the contour of the bust and waist. From this simple be- inning you may go on and on and off and off. The epaulette pieces may come from under siraps of ribbon that go over the shoulders. may be connected across the chest | The and the back by more ribbon, from under ich falls more lace, continuous with the tpalettes, thus giving the bodice a square | As Poke effect, the yoke being outlined by the fall AS IF OUTLINING A SQUARE YOKE. of the lace. Even this simple effect can gi several impressions. If the bust line is defi- cient you will have the lace across the front fall ve. 7 full and reach right in front to the waist line or a little below, while it narrows up tothe shoulders. If the ‘bust line is fall the Jace will hang less full. so that the contour can be seen through, and it will be shaped a little differently. A very handsome example of this sort is shown in the second pictare. The toilet oulders. Joining the lace to the yoke is covered with a velvet ribbon fastened with rosettes, as shown in the picture. BUTTERFLY EFFECTS. All sorts of elaborations and butterfly effects ere gotten from a series of ruities of lace about short yoke. The first ruffle of lace will set out on the shoulders ina pretty perky way, front under it another and deeper rufle comes ‘that r. over the shoulders, and is a little softer and more droopy, to give effect to the perk of the one above. Indeed. this ruffle may be of cloth, crepe or silk. It may go neross the chest or it may be a modified epau- lette and stop after chrouding the shoulders, ill another fail of lace may or not be added, coming from under the epanlettes and reaching Ibows and falling across the chest to the the waist line, the back being identical always with the front.’ The under deep xufile, for instance, ay really outline the yoke of the gown, while the epaulettes, the ruffie above, the littie yoke attached and the collar thereto may bea blessed & pointed yoke em- cape isa flounce of ches in width, gathered front are ‘lace tabs yards in length. are very deep mbroidered with jet, The Medici collar and a half inches in in back with a rosette In front are placed two ‘The ends of the tabs form a jabot in ANOTHER MANTELET. Another mantelet has a yoke of silk covered ith embroidery of black silk, chenille and standing collar, which is finished with a ruching of iace. Quite a similar and equally tasteful way is to bave the rib- bons continue from the shoulders down toa point front and back, at the waist line. Then will fall continuously from the shoul- ders,following the line of the ribbon. For some figures it will narrow to the points front and back; for others it will keep its width; again the lace will not go as faras the waist,but will at just the right place for becomin: or just below the bust line. You seo, effect must not be ha: The yoke-like space left between the ribbons may, of course, be filled with the lace, iaid fiat over colored silk, or draped softly, according always to the figure. The matronly' and gracious figure gathers dignity instead of bulk by careful arrange- ment of shoulder drapery of lace. This is proven in the last picture. On either side of the collar a band of ribbon starts, which passes loosely over the bust and to the waist line, not coming to a point, but narrowing a little. About the throat and all the way down between the ribbons, lace or black or white net may be | softly draped. On the outside of the ribbons, falling over the shoulders in cape-like ef- fect as deep as to the elbows, wide lace or net is gness pass under the ribbons and across the chest or bust, | MATRONLY FIGURES, set, which is wide enough to reach to the waist line, the edge being under the ribbon. All one’s efforts and lace may be devoted to the shoulders. Make a triangle on the shoulder, the point being at the side of the collar and the sides running down to clasp the shoulder itself. Fill in the triangle with raffles of lace, the top one being, of course, the merest bit of lace edge, and the last passing over the round of the shoulder and lying well out on the puff of the sieeve. You need not stophere. The sleeve itself can have ruffle after ruffle to the elbow, so that each arm looks hike a ballet girl all ready for the most daring dances. VARIOUS MATERIALS. T have said lace in all this, but that may mean anything from the finest bit of a priceless mor- sel, carefully spread over a fan-like piece of silk and inserted at the shoulder to be looked at and envied by everybody, to great clouds of effective and valueless wash blond or silk net. material may be gauze, or any cheap stuff, or the Ince may be the very narrowest and ‘edge ruffles of fine muslin or muil. I say, the fashion lends itself to all folk and all materials. You may use old-time reedle work and turn up your pretty nose at the girl with modern lace, or you may use fine Hamburg, and one so fresh and crisp and clean that the itl with yellow lace will not be able to feel as py as she should, especially if you look utterly satisfied. Hamburg is exquisite on children’s dresses in many of these shoulder effects, but it won't to take up children’s fashions, they are too fascinating. Heavy and inexpensive crochet lace suits par- ticularly the perky and stiff shoulder draping. Fine net, with just an edge of design, should go on very full and soft, and does either for the matronly or the figure that Incksutline. Only remember to have method in you management, and suit your effect to a sufficient cause. —_+e+ THE FLOUNCE OF THE FUTURE. It is the Firm Ally of the Parisian turiere. Above all other errors the French women hate stiffness and rigidity of effecta. Their gowns often enough we find overloaded with amixture of unneeded ornaments as we study them hon- Cou- estly with our Puritan eyes. But they are al- THE FLOUNCE AT PRESENT. ways new, fresh, piquant, and in the style which we are sure to adopt, with modifica- tions, witbin three months of their adoption in the great parliament of fashions. So when a correspondent sends to our own particular confidential madame a letter all about the paramount flounce its contents are altogether too good to keep. Read what she ae ‘Flounces are a complete suecess; they remedy with their waving frou frou that rigid air about the skirt. Just now they are gath- ered, but the craze over here for accordion laits is going to bring in once more the plated Tunes. As yet we have used chiefly gauze and lisse, but before long all materials in plaltable light silks, euch as taffeta and batiste, ike the gown or in extreme contrast, will be used for simply enormoas flounces.”* Which means that we'll buy five or six yards more of ombre chiffon, shaded gauze, change- able taffeta, expensive grenadine than we do ell; leh us be thankful that we were spared the hoopskirt and other threatened evils of two months ago. To return to flounces. They are to be headed with strings of beads, jets and strands of ribbons, ombre, as well as gowns and other garnitures. Whether Ince will decline and fall our correspondent doesn’t hint. At any rate, it is in a fever of activity now. Black frocks with white rufties are the—but that is another story. Asymptom of the oncoming mode may be Geesvensd imo tons litle Geen of suak alternately striped in green and rose. Ohe flounce, the lowest, is of solid green surab, the | other is of solid rose. ‘The skirt is scantier than the first models by more than two yards. It measures just five around. A closely fitting bodice is girdled quaintly with overlaying rose and green ribbons, while the double revers are first green, second rose. ‘The result is a gown tor country wear and the effect is a bit dashy. The word meant to sum up the whole thing is, I think, harlequinade. But wait for the new flounces in every stuff that can be plaited. ——_+e+-—___—_ ‘The Sweet Girl Graduate. “Standing with reluctant feet, Where the brook and river meet,” Soon the sweet girl we shall see Graduated properly; Decked in gown of white or blue, Pink or mauve or soft ecru, She will read her essay, deep As an ancient donjon vi e thinks she knows, As from point to point she goes; What # lot we know that she Doesn't ki LaMpTon. DISTINCTION IN BLACK. It is Termed Chic, Effective and is Sought by the Frivolous. It is, of course, largely s matter of happy combinations. Fabrics count, but 'tis the fab- rics in antithesis with biaek which possess the key to success along the lines of our new fash- ion. We've been classing the adoption of black ass fad during the winter, but now it onght to be reckoned with asa mode. Alas! the legiti- mate 1830 styles have been—nay, are being—so unmercifnlly abused, and the little piquancies of coloring so cruelly maltreated by the second rate costumes, that the frivelous. aristocratic, delicately bred woman who wants to attract ttontion (has betaken “herself to), black gown for affairsof great portent; not dead blac Ghat still fs sacred tol mourning but. black made memorable by novelty cloths, heavily em- broidered jet and gold passementeric, dainty Yoile glace tissues, thin as the draperies of a Nautch girl; velvets and satins brilliantly lit by cunning dyes. There is one—not quite distinctive, perhaps, because colored crepon enters too largely into it—but a “black dress” none the less, The skirt is quaintly fashioned in black foulard and ecru lace, draped twice around it in two lon curves. The foulard is not gored, but gathe: fuil under the corsage, nor are there darts about the hips to smooth down the unusual breadth. The corsage is round and absolutely plain, for it is of erepon, hand embroidered with threads of gold and silver in a fine leaf pattern. It fastens behind. As quaint as the skirt are the billowy puffs of the sleeve. Ap- parently the foulard is curled and twisted and patted into its uneven shaken fullness by some unknown mothod, for there is not a suspicion of crinoline or wires. And they are fiat rather than broad. Another black gown is net over satin. Seven times satin ribbon. covered with white lace, + A BILLowY costemE. bands the skirt and stiffens it to independence. Its bodice is belted by ciel blue bengalin which appears in the round, low yoke, e1 Broidered with arrows of jot. ‘The ego of the bodice is covered with lace and the forearm sleeves aro fitted bengaline. The upper arm parts are pert, overlying ruffles of black net, gathered over foundations of satin. ‘The hat is black and white and blue. — -see A SUMMER EVENING GowN. Fashions and Kumors of Fashions Are Wafted Across Seas. From the end of Lent until the middle of June there is an eclipse of evening dress. Ball gowns and theentire great class of ‘‘decolletage” are withdrawn fzom public comment and pub- lic eyes into the ateliers of the rulers of fashion, there to be evolved anew for the wear and tear of midsummer exhibitions. When the great hotels throw -open their doors and the active society woman laboriously leaves her winter home to parade within them, it is permissible to conjecture vaguely concerning the trend of affairs in gauze and Ince and decollete coraages, And yet, this summer premature inquiries not rich in results, ‘The question is not, ‘What are the really new styles?” but rather, Vhich of the old styles will triumph?” For last winter was the arena of all epochs and all countries mingling amicably like friends at & fancy ball; nothing absolutely novel can be brought forth even by the genii Felix, Doucet and Duboys. "So we may hope for tho'prettient things we own and think twice before passing the ugliest onward to our poor relations. The trousseaus of summer brides and the cos- tumes of French actresses reveal a giimpso of what we may expect, Of the latter, one worn by a French stage queen is here reproduced. The description is minute, important. Mad- emoiselle has indicated her influential prefer- ence in the coming warfare. Briefly, the style is empire (how vigorously the empire thrives!), of satin, garnished with lace. The satin is white liberty with an ornate foot trimming of old lace, above which is looped white ribbons knotted in bows and donkey ears. From each bow along the front of the- skirt starts a brocaded stalk of orange leaves and blossoms. The somewhat tightly fitting skirt is belted high under the arms with white ribbons. The corsage ix full, with a square, lace bordered decolletage, “extremely simple.” say the critics. Sleeves are cnormous Josephine puffs. drooping low to the elbow on the under arm, but pushed so high upon the AN INDICATION. shoulder that a remarkable angle results with the neck of the young woman who wears them. Her coiffure is ‘a simple. curied twist of hair pinned closely to the head and banded a la Grecque with orange blossoms. The orange blossoms ani dead white may be an affectation of girlishness, but I predict a dead white fad this summer to offset the dead black craze of the spring. ‘Mrs. MeShane—‘+But phwat are ye takin’ thot big shillale wid ye for, Pat?” McShane (off for the world’s fair)—“Sure, didn't ye know they hov two Oirish villages there?”* Wine J. metal beads. The cape, composed of two lace tee ee eva Pak ee ee ae Ee dcoe oe From trun, Eatttvocal. Mra, Larkin—“I want alittle money today, the mantelet is profusely trimmed with black |“ ‘Smythe a Fred.” waecmbens Ghee tase me soereaes —— 4 dreamed that I was in heaven last | “S07, tarkin—““I'm very glad of that.” ever the shoulders to the waist in back and "6! Mrs. Larkin (surprised)—“‘Why are you fs crossed in front and tied in long | Mrs. Smythe—Was I there, too? glad?" Jeops and ends in back. On the shoulders are| Smythe—My dear, did I not say that I) Mr. Larkin—‘“Because generally you wanta full bows of the same, and it also furnishes the | dreamed 1 was in heaven? eco deal.” FAIR AND FORTY, But a Woman Need Not Grow to Be Stout. HOW TO KEEP YOUNG. Though Age Will Come Youthfal Looks May Be Preserved by a Little Persistent Care and Attention ta Matters of Personal Comfort and Adornment. ee ES,” SAID FAIR AND forty. “while I am un- deniably forty, I can boast to you, who will not misconstrue me, ” that I am also moder- ately fair and am not fat, but what is best of all, I never intend, no matter how old I live to be, to get unattract- ive in appearance.” “Well, I'd like to know how you are going to help it,” remarked the intimate caller skepti- cally. “Going to help it!” repeated fair and forty, with an emphasis on the going, ‘why, I am not only going to help it, but Iam even now help- ing it, and have been helping it for the last ten years. In times of peace, you know, prepare for war, and in time of youth prepare for age, and, while from one point of view it is, of course, never too late to mend, still you won't have so much to mend if you take it in season, for a stitch in time, you remember, saves nine.” “You must have been looking over your vol- ume of saws and proverbs,” commented the intimate caller. “Not at all,” responded fair and forty; “these particular maxims just happen to all ‘fit one subject, that is all, PARTICULARS ARE WANTED. “Well, this is very nice, indeed,” said the in- timate caller, ‘‘but it is much too vague, and now that I have a little time”—and she glanced at the tiny watch set in her card caso—‘I wish you would descend from these lofty gen- eralities that I've frequently heard you indulge in before and become just alittle more specific. T'll admit that you do look young and fresh and that it isn’t because of my partial eyes that you soseem, for other people, utter strangers, say the same. So pray begin, if it isnot secret that you are carefully withholding from therestof us in order that you may appear more beautiful by the side of our ugliness.” Fair and forty looked reproachful before re- sponding with some spirit: “I wouldn't from that that you cred- ited me with spark of philanthropy. The idea of even intimating that I would stoop to prest by the ill looks of the rest of woman- ‘ind! But, leaving all this aside, I would like every wongn to look well, just as’ mere mat- ter of personal comfort, for, since I am obliged to see them, total strangers though they are, whenever I meet them in church, street or the- ater, why it would be much more delightful to have them form Pleasing and harmonious spec- tacles than unpleasing and jarring. For our looks,” continued fair and forty reflectively, ‘are not, after all, our property; they belong successively to each one who views us, and hence isn’t it as much a duty to look as well as possible as it is to keep some borrowed article in a state of preservation pleasing to its owner. And therefore when I take pains with my ap- pearance, I, instead of being wrapped up in self and frivolous, as the superficially minded regard me, am most benevolent and unseltish, for am I not tilling some one else's field?” A NEW THEORY. “Well, that certainly,” said the intimate caller, “is a new theory of personal beauty and adornment. So it isa virtue, is it, and an act of benevolence to mankind to get a new gown andadream ofahat? I hke that system of — and I must try to convert my husband to it.” “Certainly,” replied fair and forty with em- phasis, “if your gown and your hat are artistic, for they then teach harmony in color and form, the same as does a flower. M. Worth indeed is said to draw the color schemes of bis celebrated gowns from the contrasting or delicately shad ing tints seen in a flower or the blending colors in the plumage of a bird. “But you are making me talk first on what properly belongs last,” broke oif fair and f “for harmonious dress, though. of course, im: portant to a fine appearance, hits to be prefaced yy other things, a woman who is beautiful in every sense of the word being (to use a familiar household article as an illustration) something like an exquisite lamp whereof her soul 18 the flame, while the soul's envelopes, body and dress, are tho gracefully shaped and artistically decorated exterior of the larhp. “Now ax tho finest Iamp in the world loses half its beauty unlit, or when illuminated by a dull, poor flame, so the most fashionably and gorgeously attired woman creates only half the fine impression she might it her soul shows its Jack of strength by an ill-natured or unsevere said the intimate caller, “but tell me plainly if you know how to keep young.” THE QUALITY OF souL. “Well,” responded fair and forty, “this quality of soul which I just mentioned and which you denominate as preaching is point one. People seem to think,” she explained, “that the look of youth,ie an’ intangible and quite undiscoverable quality which is not to be retained when it begins to’ slip wway from us, because of this vory mysterious nature,and will say: ‘Whata pity Miss Blank is begin get pussee, she was such a beautiful girl will go their way with no further aual the subject, while I would pause and 4 ‘What a pity that that pretty Miss So and So is making herself louk so old by wearing that discontented expression of countenance, by neglecting to stand straight, by not having her teeth regularly looked after and by not keep- ing her hair thick and glossy by brushing. For attention to those four ite just the order I name—expression, carriage, teeth, hair. goes far toward keeping a woman young look- ing. Just think yourself, how a look of disappoint takes all the freshness out of est face: e continued, or cynicism en the young- show old the stooping shoulders of 5 looks a child when it is losing its firstteeth, aud what a decided blight on the beauty of sixteen are dry and scanty locks, and you’ will realize the trath of what I way, while when all are combined, as is frequently the case when one passes thirty or thirty-five, unless care is taken to prevent it, why the cumulative effect is de- cidedly aged and dreadful.” “Well, don’t go so fast,” said the intimate caller, evidently becoming interested, “iet_ me review,” and sho began counting off on her gloved fingers, ‘first soul, and the way to look soulful and sweet and hopeful, is of course to cultivate one’s soul awfully hard, but I'm bound to bathe in this fountain of youth if 1 drown trying. +-Yes,”’ said fair and forty, “for, as some one says, ‘What is good looking but locking good?’ ” MUST STAND STRAIGHT. “And next,” pursued the intimate cailer abstractedly, “tis—standing straight, did you say?” “1 did,” replied fair and forty. “Standing straight.” repeated her pupil, and then thoughtfully, “Well, that isn't dilticult if one feels well and the weather is cool, but a great many pouple get into stooping habits in consequence of being wilted by the temper- ature or from getting over-fatigued.”” “Teeth come next, I believe you said,” inter- rupted the intimate caller, evidently’ feeling now quite posted on the subject of athletics end walking, “und, only that it burts so like everything, that isasimple enough matter 0 manage, for even when worse has come to worst and one’s teeth are beyond the salvation of filling, one can get some nice false teeth that look better, if artistically made, than the im. perfect originals, and thus end forever one’s dental woes. she went on, “and what was it that?” CARE OF THE HAIR. “To wash once in tare or four weeks, and to brush a great deal every day,” responded the beuuty oracle, “for these simple rules will keep it from getting thin and dead looking.” “But it will turn gray in spite of all the washings and brushings imaginable,” com- plained the intimate caller. “What if it does,” replied the fair and forty carelessly, “since ‘gray or even white bair is quite as pretty as any other—indeed,if a woman had dark eves to contrast against it, the sooner her hair turns white the sooner isshe a subject for congratulation. No, gray hair, provided it is thick and glossy with vigorous life, doesn't make one look a day older.” “Oh, what a comfort you are!” exclaimed the intimate culler, emitting a deep sigh of relief. “I haven't breathed it to a soul before, I felt 60 ut about it, but my maid has been carefully going over my hair every day for the past two years, ipping out white hairs.” lousense!” commented the fair and forty. “But what are you going to do about wrinkles! iterrogated the intimate caller sud- denly as this arch woe of femininity burst on her consciousness. “Wrinkles?” repeated fair and forty with a perene accent that her visitor considered most ina] to so desperate a subject. “Welnkles? “Well, bait of Ahem need never come if a woman will preserve her wits about her. and the other half can be mitigated, if not quite effaced, by a little judiciously applied and quite harmless industry." “Oh, what is it?” asked the intimate caller eagerly, as she bent forward with intenee eyes and clasped hands. “Look!” and she pulled up her veil, “I have two miserable perpendicu- lar lines right between my eyes.” For pity’ sake tell me how to get rid of them!” Fair and forty gave her an analytical glance and then remarked with cold comfort: SOME WRINKLES UNNECESSARY. “Tt was quite unnecessary your ever having those. They came from frowning because you were cross—you see I am quite frank with you—or else because you were perplexed or absorbed. Now, no matter how vexed one is or how worried, does it do any good, pray, to serew up one's forehead ina tight knot? The advice I should give to prevent the formation of such lines would be the same as Punch dis- Pensed to those about to marry —simply “don’t.” horizontal lines across the forehead are quite as unnecessary. They would never come in the, world if one didn't deliberately make 2.” “Bat I can't keep elevating my eyebrows when the sun shines in my eves.” “And does that keep the sun out of them?” “No, I-don’t know as it does,” was the some- what reluctant confession.” “Well, then, don’t do it, or if it has got to be an unbreakable habit get some dark glasses to wear when in the glare of pavements. They are not very becoming, to be sure, but they are infinitely more so than wrinkles. “So you see,” went on fair and forty, “the forehead wrinkles are quite avoidable with a little thought. I believe, indeed, one might live to be a hundred years old and’ never have them, but when you actually do possess them, why, refrain as much as possible from the ac- tions that you have found produce them, and do this to scare them away,” and fair and forty placed her two pretty palms on ber white unlined forehead and began stroking it outward, firet with on d and then with the other, “a movement,” she explained, “which if done persistently will have tho same effect ona wrinkled forehead as ironing has on wrinkled clothes. *“The unyouthfal double chin and the droop- ing lines that form from the nose down aren't such heinous offenses, because one isn't so palpably to blame for them. They come from relaxed muscles, but as the muscles of the face can be developed as well as tho muscles of the arm or hand, why, do this to prevent them losing firmness or to restore it if lost," and her two palms went up perpendicu- larly again, this time one each side of her nose, from which she began taking turns in stroking her cheeks outward. “And this,” she went on, ceasing that move- ment and meeting her palms under her chin, and from thence moving them alternately up her cheeks, “will defer a double chin, with its unlovely lines, for some years.” “But crow’s feet!” ejaculated the intimate caller in a dread whisper. DON'T WORRY ABOUT CROW'S FEET. “Oh, crow’s feet,” said fair and forty quite indifferently, “‘don't worry about them. They are the very last of all to come, and some, in- deed, who possess a complete assortment of all the other known varieties and species of wrinkles never have them. Then they aren't so ugly if one does get them, for they come from laughing, and give a sunny look to the eyes—something like the rays from the sun itself. At all events, don’t try to prevent them by restricting the expression of laughter to the month. Ihave one acquaintance who, to ward away crow’s feet, never laughs with her eyes unless she is absolutely overpowered my mirth, and you should see her! held so gloomy a smi I certainly never be- She reminds me of a that Ihave just given you, together with rubbing the cheeks round and round with the palms of the hand to make them firm, and washing the face with an up- ward movement instead of a downward, will largely do away with your special horror of wrinkles, “But, mercy!” said the intimate caller, “how much time it all takes. Inever could do even the plain duties of the day af I went through all that performance.” “Time! echoed fair and forty. “Every- thing that I have mentioned needn't take an hour a day, and I'll warrant you spend that much and more on fancy work or some simi- larly foolish employment that isn't going to effect your looks in the rears to come in the least. No, putting it at the longest,” she re- peated, with a calculating expression of coun- tenance. “an hour would be ample for all I have told you—thirty minutes for your hair brushing, fifteen for the physical eultare exer- cises for straightening you and fifteen more for the self-given facial massuge. “That,” said fair and forty, “can be counter- acted by learning at any gymnasium, or of any Delsartean teacher, a short series of simple movements thut will exercise successively all the muscles of the body. One needn't lift damb bells or swing Indian clubs while going through with them, either. The movements alone, and which, moreover, will not require more than ten minutes of one's time, will suf- fice to strengthen the muscles so that your head will be well poised and your back beantti- fully flat and straight. And they, combined with daily walking, will keep one from getting unpleasantly stout. “if women weren't #0 lazy about a few little things of this sort,” said fair and forty with some spirit as she gave a retrospective glance over her sex’s derelictions, “there wouldn't be so many of them moaning over the loss of their good tooks. And walking, aside from its advantages that I just mentioned, improves the complexion, Haven't you noti that after thirty-five the complexions of men are t to be fresher and smoother and better gon- erally than those of women of the same age?” “Well, it is because they epend more time in the open air than do women. “But you've got to stick to it af you expect it to benefit you,” she added with emphasis, “for eternal vigilance, which, you know, is the price of liberty, is also the price of well-preserved looks, and when through haste or fatigue you feel inclined to omit any of these matters, as for instance the straightening exercises, then stop and reflect that to do so is as great’ a sin your well appearance as to neglect Your face in the morning is against the virtue of cleanliness, and you'll besurorised what a stimulant to effort that though? is, You'll be less tired, too, at the beginning. for rest consists in a change of activity as well as in repose, and stretching the muscles of the body from their normal position, rests them just as does stretching the hands after having written fora long time.” OLD BUT YouNa. “Yes, indeed,” said fair and forty, “‘as far as lam concerned, when [have reached the al- lotted three score and ten of humantty I in- tend to be worthy of that compliment the gallant Autocrat of the Breakfast Table paid some Indy on her seventieth birthday—It is better fa) be seventy years young then forty ¥ old.” “But, of course, this that I have told you is only half. Weanust now consider the dress the decorations of this human lump, for appro- priate dress sets off good looks as a plant's leaves do its flower, as a river's green banks do the blue stream that flows between, as—- ‘who's come now, [ wonder.” as she took some visiting cards trom a trim, white-capped maid who had just entered the room “Dear me! Degan to arrive,” said her visitor, in consterna- tion, as she rose and gave her bonnet a hitch before the long mirror. “+I myself won't begin now to get half done that I pianned for this afternoon. But I'm so resolved to blossom forth another Hebe that I'll be in presentiy to learn the rest of my lesson,” and she rustled crisply out of the room. ——— Presence of Mind. From Life. (ihe Rev. Clericus has been waiting half an hour to speak to his wife, who is having a call from Mra. Longwind. Hearing the frent door close, he supposes the visitor has gone. ‘The Rev. Clericus (calling from his “Well, is that old bore gone at last? Mrs. Clericus (from the drawing room, where Mrs, Longwind still sita)—Oh, yes, dear, she went an hour ago; but our dear Mrs. Lougwind ix hero—I kuow you will want to come in and see her.” judy) — See aes Genealogical Qualification. Fhom Vorue. Struckile—“I am beginning to think that one’s ancestors are important.” Miss McBean—“Yes, they come under the head, ‘important, if true.’ ” FOK DYSPEPSIA Use Horsford’s Acid Phosphate. Dr. W. 8. Leonard, Hinsdale, N. H., says: “The best remedy for dyspepsia that has ever come under my notice.” have {staid till your callers ! MAKE-UP OF THE MOON: Points on a New Theory About the Orb That Sails at Night. HE THEORY THAT THE‘ MOON IS made of green cheese was exploded quite a little while ago. Of late years scientific per- sons have been studying the satellite most at- tentively through telescopes and have formed several rather contradictory notions respecting it. One of the most advanced ideas on the subject is held by Prof. G. K. Gilbert of the geological survey. orb is made up of ever so many little moons which once upon s time flocked about the | earth. Prof. Gilbert says that the side of the moon visible from the earth is better mapped than is the continent of North America. Itis of justabout the same size. The surveyor, looking through the most powerful telescope, is still several hundred miles away, and so his map does not represent the smallest features. On the other hand, as all parts are equally accessi- ble, there is no region remaining unexplored. The map of the moon shows a number of Great piains with dark floors; also a score of mountain chains and a few trough-like valleys remarkable for their straightness. There are likewise several thousand circular bowl-shaped cavities, which most observers have considered to be craters of extinct volcanoes. These craters have usually a circular rim of cliffs. which rise to a height of 5,000 to 10,000 feet. Sometimes there is a hill rising out of the middle. There are from 20,000 to 30,000 such craters visible to the eye with the aid of a first- rate telescope. This would seem to be an astonishing num- ber of volcanic craters for so small an area. In North America, with about the same extent of | rul surface, the remains of only about 3,000 vol- canoes are found. At the same time, the great majority of such remains on this continent have been wiped out or buried by geologic changes. It is probable that every part of the United States,Canada and Mexico has had act- ive volcanoes at one time or another. The craters might now be as numerous as those on the moon if there had been neither water nor air to attack them. The craters on the = ~ mously bigger than any on ear! The largest one on this globe bas a diameter of fifteen miles. But this isa pigmy compared with the biggest lunar crater, which measures 800 miles across, However, the cliffs which define the edges of volcanic craters are composed of material thrown out from the vent. Inasmuch as the attraction of gravitation ‘on the moon is only one-sixth as strong as on the earth, bombs of a given size and substance, having the same initial velocity, would fly six times as far, and the cliff formed of them might stand six times as tall. Soa lunar crater might be six times as broad and six times as deep as.acrater on the earth without exciting wonder. The biggest craters on the moon range from 8,000 to 15,000 feet in depth; those on the earth from 2,000 to 4,000 fect, NOT VOLCANIC CRATERS. But Prof. Gilbert and those who coincide with his thinking on this subject are confident that the buwl-shaped cavities on the surface of the moon are not volcanic craters. In fact, they reject this idea altogether, conceiving it’ to be untenable on grounds tov elaborately scientific for brief quotation here. According to their opinion these peculiar features of the lunar landscape were originally produced by the im- pact of little moons which struck the orb of night. If any projectile be made to hit a plastic body with suitable velocity the scar duced by the shock bas the torm of a crater. With the right sort of material, size of pro- jectile and Velocity of impact, such a crater may be made to have a central bill. So, according to this belief, it 1s necessary to consider the moon as a body formerly bom- barded by projectiles. That the latter might have been fired by terrestrial volcanoes was at one time suggested, but the notion ‘hat such bombs could fly far enough to get beyond the limits of the earth's attraction is regarded as absurd. The fact is conceived to be that the projectiles in question were actually moonlets of greater or less dimensions, whic! may have surrounded the earth in swarma. It is imagined that there wasaring of «mall moons, which finally broke up. The present lunar orb happened to become a center of ag- gregation. Thus, having gone into the busi- ness of collecting moonlets, it grew in mass until it attained its present dimensions, The earth also was scarred all over by moonlets which struck it, but the marks have boen oblit- erated by the processes which continually recon- struct and remodel the surface of the planet. At length all of the moonlets were absorbed, in the manner described, by the earth and moon. But the terrestrial planet is still sub- jected toa continual bombardment with small projectiles. It is reckoned that no less than 400,000,000 meteorites are captured by this globe in the course of twenty-four huura- So minute are most of them that, being burned up in collision with our atmosphere, their ashes do not contribute to the surface of the earth an appreciable layer of dust. Buta few are big as to fall to the ground without being con- sumed, weighing from pounds to tons. They strike ‘the atmosphere with a velocity far higher than could be induced by the earth attraction, and it must be that they are speed- ing through space in all directions in numbers ion. Their average velocity -five miles a second. One of the great plains on the moon's surface is called the Mare Imbrium. The hills and fur- rows in its neighborhood are all softened to the eye in such a manner as to make the surround- ing landscape look as though it had been over- spread with a layer of semi-liquid matter. This is believed to have been the case. Once upon a time the moon at this spot is imagined to have been struck by a moonlet 80 or 100 miles in diameter. ‘The result was the generation of an enormous heat, which melted the greater part of the gigantic projectile instanter. Thus a deluge of semi-liquid material was poured over the ‘surface of the lunar satellite, reaching for several hundred miles in all directions. ‘the small craters it obliterated, while it partly filled up some of the larger ones. At the same time solid fragments of the moonlet were scat- tered about, some of them flying 1,000 miles through the air and then scoring out furrows from the moon's surface as wide and deep as the Grand Canyon of the Colorado. One of the furrows dug by such a fragment is 187 miles long and from 10 to 25 mules broad, with a depth of 11,000 feet. ane Ee How to Smoke a Cigar. From the New York Sun. Few people know how to smoke acigar. In fact, few people know anything about a cigar. Old cigar dealers say that not 4 per cent of their customers can tell a good cigar when they smoke it, much less when they see it. A great mistake in smoking acigar is to continually bent it with your fingers or scrape it in order to keep it free’ from ashes. The ashes on a cigar while it is being smoked make it bester. The; prevent it, first, from burning too rapidly, and, second, from accumulating dust or foreign sub- stance on the tip. It is a mistake to squeeze a cigar or to roll it. If it is wrapped too tight it should not be smoked. If it is not wrapped too tight it is unnecessary to squeeze it, for rough handling only breaks and crumples the filiing. In short, as an old cigar dealer says, “Cigars are like women—very few of them are alike, fewer of them still are much good, and all of them must be coddled, humored and fussed over, with the reward of a very little pleasure for a great deal of time.” moon are enor- A Chicken’s Intricate Foot, From the Kansas City Times. “The mechanism of the leg and foot of a chicken or other bird that roosts is a marvel of | design,” said a well-known taxidermist yester- day. “It often seems strange that a bird will sit on a roost and sleep all night without falling off, but the explanation is simple. The tendon of the leg of a bird that roosts is so arranged that when the leg is bent at the knee the claws are bound to contract and thus hold with a sort of a death-grip the limb around which they are placed. Put a chicken’s feet on your wrist and then make the bird xit down and you will have practical illustration on your skin that you will remember for some time. By this singular arrangement, seen only in such birds as roost, they will rest comfortably and never think of holding on, for it is impossible for them to let go until they stand up.” He Never Smiled Again. From the San Francisco News-Letter. Acertain young man of this city was out walking in Golden Gate Park last Sunday with a young lady whom he knows quite well. The couple stopped near the cunning little animals on the children’s playground and were enjoy- ing the antics of a curious little creature. “Oh, do find out what it is, George,” she said. George looked at the card tacked to the cage and then told her, with just a faint little blush, that it was the “laughing jackass.” She was silent a moment. Then she turned to him, and with @ half-wistfal, half-playful look, said: 5 “Please say something funny, George, and then we can hear it laugh.” | Dover smiled again. He believes that the lurar | ———_—_—__——E2=—E—— LITTLE JOHNNIE'S MONEY, A Well-Known Financier Advises Him asto Its Investment. From the New York World. Little Johnnie Walsh, the New London, Cohn., newsboy who found Mra. Johnson's earrings and received a reward of $2,000 for | returning them, has the nucleus of a snug lit- | tle fortune when he becomes of age, if the money be properly invested. ‘There are, of course, many ways and means by which it | could be increased, but the risks which would ‘have to be assumed are great. Hundreds of | children are left small sums of money, which | are lost through unfortunate investment and | which might have been steadily and surely in- creased if properly taken care of. Naturally the persons most competent to judge as to the best disposition of money ‘fare men who, by conservative business methods, have steadily added to their jons. Col. Wm. L. Strong, president of the Central Na- tional Bank, when asked the best way to invest the money said: ings bank, where it will draw interest at 314 or 4 percent. He might also buy railroad bonds, which can be bought at par and which will pay & dividend of 4 or 5 per cent on the sum in- vested. The very worst ible pian would be to speculate with it, for the chances are ninety- nine out of a hundred that the results would be disastrous and the entire amount lost. It it is put in a bank for the boy and the interest allowed to accumulate with the principal, at the end of ten or twelve years the amount would be considerably greater. “A first mortgage on a house which is known to be good property is also a very good invest- ment,and the interest is considerably higher than that given by the banks, bemg as a general le 5 per cent. All of these ways are safe and sure, and none but safe and sure methods ai “The best thing to do is to put it ina sav- | i FREAKS OF LIGHTNING. ‘Taking Photographs, Magnetizing Iron and Playing Other Pranks. From Chambers’ Journal. The Etruscans of old believed in three kinds of lightning—one incapable of doing any in- Jury, another more mischievous in its character and consequently only to be issued with the consent of a quorum of twelve gods, and» third. carrying mischief in its train and for which a regular decree was required from the highest divinities in the Etruscan skies. Cu- riously enough, modern scientists, following ‘the lead taken by Arago, have also decreed that the'varieties of lightning are threefold. The first comprehends that in which the discharge shbears like « long luminous line, bent and zig: A very singular story is told concerning the Yagarios of one mass of globe lightning. A tailor in the Rue St. Jacques, in the neighbor hood of the Val de Grace, was retting his dinner one day during a thunder storm, when rd a loud clap, and soon the chimner. ard fell down and a globe of fire as big as = child's head came out quietly and moved slowly about the room at a «mail height above the floor. ‘The spectator, in conversation with M. Rabbinet of the Academie Hi should be employed where the sum is so small. “More mones is lost in speculation by per- sons with $1, or €2,000 than is made, and the risks are so great that it would bedecidedly a bad plan to assume them. Ifthe money is Placed in bank until the bor becomes of age he can invest it ina business for which by incli- nation and education he shows the most apti- soe THE CRINOLINE ABROAD. It is Not in Favor With the Fashionable Ladies of Austria. From the London Telegraph. Our Vienna correspondent writes: People ‘seem to be taking the crinoline scare very seri- ously in Austro-Hungary, and a number of au- thorities on fashions have been asked for and have given their opinion on the subject. Some of the Viennese ladies have been credited with the ambition to strike out an independent line for themselves in matters pertaining tola mode; but it is interesting to note that the experts to whom I refer one and all denounce the un- sightly hoop in the strongest terms. This feeling of opposition to the servile fol- lowing of fashions set m other countries, whether they were tasteful or the reverse, was rather amusingly displayed in the remarks made by one authority, who, being under the impres- sion that the crinoline was really being revived in Paris, said that French women would do far better to attire themselves in the plainest possi- bie style than to deck themselves and induce weak-minded women throughout the world to invest themselves in such a monstrosity. She was, indeed, very hard on the votaries of fashion, who. as she declared, deemed it a bounden duty to ape every piece of folly that emanated from Paris; but she bore in miud the practical side of the question as well, for she inquired indig- nantly how women couid attend to their house- keeping when enveloped in an enormous hoop. Another authority summed up her views in 1! expressive phrase, “Away with the crinoline! So the hoop stands no chance of being revived in this part of the world, and those who de- nounce it eo sturdily will ‘ose day have the ad- ditional satisfaction of discovering that, after coploston, haan dameepen pper the chimney and threw the fragments ‘the roofs of some i distance of fifty feet, and the larger, which eiguteen men could not move, to a distance of twenty feet or so in an opposite tack. In 1838 the it-mast of ‘M. 8. Rodney was hit by a and literally cut up into chips. the sea being strewn with the fragments asif the carpenters had been sweeping their shavings overboard. Shortly before the top- masts of H M.S. Hvacinthe bad suffered in similar manner,and when the Thetis under- went a like visitation in Rio harbor Capt. Fitz- roy described the foretop-mast as ‘a mere col- lection of long splinters, almost like reeds.” These area few of the examples of the me chanical effects of lightning. It works chemi- cally as well. It has the power of developing « peculiar odor, which has been variously com- pened to Gat of phowpheoon. nitrous gas. and most frequently burning sulphur. Wafen men- tions a storm on the Isthmus of Darien which diffused such a sulpburous stench through the atmosphere that be and bis marauding com- panions could scarcely breathe, particularly when they plunged into the wood. The mag- netic effects juced are often very curious, A chest containing a large assortmert of knives, forks and other cutlery was, not many years ago, struck in the house of a Wakefield trades- Essays, whose tools were thus treated. to his indeserib- able annoyance, “He had to be constantly all, it has not found any more favor on the banks of the Seine. ———_+0+—___ ‘The Good Man Surprised, From the Dallas Sunny South. A young lady organist ina church in Colo- rado was somewhat captivated with the young pastor of the church in the next street and was delighted to hear one week that by an exchange he was to preach the next Sunday in her own church. The organ was pumped by an obstrep- erous old sexton, who would often stop when he thought the organ voluntary bad lasted enough. This day the organist was anxious that all should go well, and as the service was about to begin she wrote a note intended solely for the sexton’s eyes. He took it, and in spite of her agonized beckonings carried it straight tothe preacher. What was that gentleman's astonishment when be read: ae _ lige me this mornit iv awa) till I give you the signal to sto; ‘i " Her Bathing Suit Out of Sight. From the New York Press. She tripped adown the beach, the sprite, Beside the ocean's marge to sit: Her bathing suit was out of sight Her mackintosh was over it. A Two-Edged Joke. Dolly Dimple (a daredevil)—“Say. Bobby, we'll play a joke on the tramp. Give him a quarter to jump over the hedge. He'll do it and land in the ditch. Ha, ha, a!” To Weary a quarter. Raggl deah boy! Here’ Lat toe coe you Jomp tin tedge” Weary Raggles— stand a good deal “Much obliged, genta. I'd of mud for five beers.” To ReraIs an abundant head of hair of a natura! color 40 a good old age the hygiene of the scalp must be observed. Apply Hall's Hair Kenewer. freeing his hammer, pincers and kaife from bis nails, needles and awis, which were constantly getting caught by them as they lay on the bench.” The same authority knew of « Genoese ship which was wrecked near Algiers in consequence of some pranks played by hgnt- ning among the compasses, the captain inno cently supposing that he was sailing toward the north, when, as @ matter of fact, he was steer- ing due south. effects, cures have been performed by light- ning: gouty men have been enabled to walk freely; epileptic persons have been healed; amaurosis has been removed, and rheumatism tempt lightning in the hope of experiencing ite curative effects, Gladstone's Personality. McClure's Magazine. Personally Mr. Gladstone is an example of the most winning, the most delicate and the most minute courtesy. He is « gentleman of the Alder English school, and his manners are grand and urbaue, always statoly, never con- descending, and genuinely modest. He affects even the dress of the oli school, and I have seen him in the wearing an old binck even- ing coat, such as Prof. Jowett «tili affect. The bumblest in Piccadilly, raising his bat to Mr. Gi is sure to get a because it accompanies and adorns a very strong temper, a will of ironand ababit of being regarded for the greater part of his lifetime as @ force of un- equaled magnitude. Jet the most foolish, and one may add the most imperti- nent, of Mr. Gladstone's dinner-table ques- tioners is sure of an elaborate reply, delivered with the air of a student in deferential talk with his master. To the cloth Mr. Gladstone shows a reverence that occasionally woos the observer toa smile. ‘The callowest curate is sure of a respectful listener in the foremost Englishman of the day. On the other band, in priate conversation the premidt docs not often rook contradjction. mper is high, though, as George Russell has said, it is under vigilant control, there are subjects on which it is easy to arouse the old lion. Then the grand eyes flash, the torrent of brilliant monologue flows with more rapid sweep and the dinner table is breathless at the spectacle of Mr. Gind- stone angry. As to his relations with his family they are very charming. It is a pleasure to hear Herbert Gi them. sons and daughters, are absolutely de- voted to his cause, wrapped up in bis personality and enthusiastic as to every «ide of bis char- acter. Of children Mr. Gladstone has ever been very fond, and be has more than one favorite among his grandchildren. ‘The O14, Sed Story. From the Boston Herald. < One afternoon last week there was a private funeral service in a fine mansion situated on an uptown street in Portland, Me., says an None knew and few guessed that the frail frame that was on its inst long journey was once the body ofa young woman who, was allowed every pleasure thet mind could in vent or money procure, except freedom. She longed for New ‘York. The nightingale was caged, and she longed for freedom. be burst the tiny, woven golden chains of love and became as the moth to the candle. Three years on 5th avenue, then to Broad- way, then in the human maelstrom toward the Battery, then that haven of rest—home. Last of all, Calvary. 22-2 The First Gold From California. From the Boston Herald. On Monday, the 7th of May, 1849, there am rived in Boston the ship Sophia Walker, Cap Wiswell, from Valparaiso the 2d of March revious. She brought with ber the first gold In dust and bare ever received am this oll direct from California. a The whole amount was something more tha £90,000. OF this amount Capt, J. H- Spring. passenger, lately the commander of Huntress of New York, which was sold on the const, had €40,000 in dust on account of bis owners, and the remainder went principally Bal the bars, however, vained at €18,600, were taken to Philadel the following day by Adams & Co.'s to be converted inte coin,