Evening Star Newspaper, September 16, 1893, Page 10

Tor HER OWN DESIGNER. A Millionaire’s Daughter the Best Dressed Girl at Saratoga. SHE CHOSE HER TRADE. Studying Dressmaking With the Designers of Paris. HOW SHE DESIGNS GOWNS. Written for The Evening Star. HE BEST DRESSED woman is not always the one who wears the handsomest tot- let or employs the most expensive dress- maker. It is quite as important to know how to wear a gown well as how to se- ‘ lect or order one. To be truly becoming, 2 gown must partake,in @ measure, of the wearer's individualt- ty and become as touch a part of her, when on, as her hands or her hair. . Many women who thoroughly understand the art of dressing, and like to have thelr ewn original ideas followed, are unfortu- nate in their dressmakers, and consequently their most artistic conceptions are failures; for unless @ dressmaker be in perfect sym- ‘4g Draftin: Mer Pattern. Pathy with her employer, and able to grasp and carry out her suggestions, it is, of course, useless to attempt anything out of the ordinary. A Brooklyn girl has, however, obviated and as she has a regular genius for dress- making her gowns were the envy pf all the fashionabie young women at Saratoga, where she recently was enjoying herself. At every german entertainment or lawn fete, with people of wealth present from four quarters of the globe, this girl, out of her teens, who designs and makes <i] her own gowns, was ever con- splcuous for the simplicity and beauty of Her proficiency tm this branch of home Industry is due to the sensible plan upon which she was educated. Hg i Wild Rose Costume. ployed by those who taught her as chief de- mer. “Geen as a child she exhibited wonderful taste and ingenuity in fashioning quaint and pretty gowns for her dolls, working with untiring patience, and often altering ® garment a dozen times before it sulted her fastidious ideas. How She Designs Costumes. Always, after planning out a toflet in her head, she sketches it in the colors she tn- tends to use on a piece of water-color Paper, and, if satisfactory, immediately fets to work. In her Brooklyn home she has had fitted up an fea! work room, fur- nished with every convenience, and here her fancies are materialized. On @ big table occupying the center of the Yeom she trst drafts her patterns; then cuts and fits the garment with astonishing Fapidity, after which it is turned over to her maid, also a skilled needlewoman, who Ginishes it off with exquisite neatness. She enjoys her work as thoroughly as an artist does his pictures, and is never hap- Pier than when some inspiration is satis- factorily carried out or some novel effect successfully achieved. While she works she wears a biz white apron that envelops her from head to foot, and when engaged in making ner @ummer and winter outfits the room be- comes a perfect hive of industry, for then She usually employs several assistants. An immense chi‘fonfer occupies one cor- her of the roo:n, and as soon as a garment is finished it is laid away in one of the big drawers. Curtained shelves extend along one wall for unfinish = cozy nook forme: by the deep Low window stands @ sewing machine frames and an mfortable low rocking chairs complete the furniture Every year during Li of her leis: gensidie, bu stoners. per -imposet task with the some interest and painstakin: ee all her work rown re that sie ‘otel germans was much admired for tts extreme simplic f some dainty forel a stivery sheen In cer- id of trimming of no ornaments were Made over a siJ slip, as illustrated, > plain to r further 4 Igtion. On another occasion she wore mn THE EVENING STAR: WASHINGTON. D. C. SATURDAY. SEPTEMBER i6, 1893—SIXTEEN PAGES. one of her loveliest conceptions—what she calls her wild rose costume—and in it she looked the flower to perfection. White chif- fon over pink silk was the material chosen. ‘The upper portion of the bodice was ar- ranged in lengthwise puffings, below which = Gown of Silver White. it was gathered in plain folds into the belt. A row of tiny artificial wild roses edged th: round low neck and encircled the wai The sleeves were formed of two short puffs and a ruffle. Like the bodice, the upper rt of the skirt was formed of puffs in gthwise rows. ending in a wide flounce. On the flounce were painted with wonderful fidelity to nature wild roses, delicately pink in hue and outlined with fine gold thread. The effect was exquisit Very girlish and sweet she looked one evening in the accompanying gown of pale blue organdie and lace. The skirt w: prettily trimmed with narrow lace, ar- ranged In semi-circles over a ruffle of wider lace. From the belt to the ends of each half circle extended rows of narrow blue ribbon, ending in bows. The plain, full bodice was similarly ornamented with strips of the ribbon, and finished around the neck with a lace nounce, pointed in front and extending in a deep point over each sleeve. = ~see. 2) A DINNER GOWN IN GREEN. But Choose Another Tint Unless You w Rose Leaf in Your Cheek. Word comes from Paris that this is to be another green season—also a silver one. ‘Whether or no the juxtaposition of the two surfaces be a subtle reflection on the com- plexion of the average silver statesman no mere fashion monger can take it upon her- self to decide. The point must be left to the grave and reverend seigneurs who have deluged the world of late with their words of weight and wisdom. Sir Roger de Cover- ly, of blessed memory, was right. Very much may be “said on the other side” of anything. The coming man—or woman, will most like be one who either says it all in the fewest possible words—or leaves off saying it altogether. In this time of gaudy and gorgeous bands, frills, puffings, what not, it 1s more than refreshing to cross a costume made wholly of one honest stuff with a decent amount of good trimming. Such, for le, as this dinner gown, which is of rich silk in the favorite lettuce green shade, delicately brocaded with spots of rose pink. It is sim- ply yet elegantly cut, depending for effect upon the beauty of the stuff and the Sweeping grace of Its lines. ‘The skirt has a moderate train, is very full at the front and sloped to a graceful slenderness at the waist. A rose plaiting eight inches deep Tuns around the foot of it. The tight leeve has a puff running half way to the elbow, with a frill of yellow lace falling be- low it. Epaulets of the same lace fall over the top and run down to, a point at the waist line back and front. "The neck has a high collar of darker green velvet edged with a narrow fold of pink silk matching the spots. The waist band is likewise of velvet piped at the upper edge with pimk. The same costume in blue and silver would be exceedingly handsome, especially the new “saphizine” blue, which represents as nearly as woven texture may the melt- ing hue of the sapphire. In that case a V of silver passamenterie should fill the space between the lace bretelles back and front, and narrower silver trimming over the vel- vet of collaret and waistband. It ts, by the way, a safe saying that saphizine will dl. vide honors more than fairly with the fam- ily of green in the hats, greens and garni- ture of the coming winter. ——— FOR PRETTY GIRLS ONLY. jat Every Girl ts Pretty Eyes. Somebody's Beauty lies in the eye of the gazer and mighty well that {t does. Think how enor- mously tiresome this old planet would be if all the inhabitanis thereof saw alike. A dead level of art excellence even would be simply maddening. In such unhappy case where everybody knew and regarded harmo- nies of form and color, carried themselves out by rule and never by any chance wore | what was unbecoming.the unregenerate hu- man soul would cry out in anguish for the rest, the refreshment, the relief of the dear old dandy days. _1t would welcome even the fat woman who wears a staring plaid, the thin one who accents her lank lines with lack of ali frills or furbelows. It would even be kindly tolerant of the dear soul who wears green gloves with a yellow green, russet shoes with a rel one and smile welcome to the “gent who eported a dia- mond as big as your thumb nail in his cheviot shirt, or arrayed himself in checks so joud you could hear them across an an- | archist uproar. | Luckily no such trial can ever befall. We may talk, write, preach art with the capital A from all on high places. there will he precious souls, coloring-loving—color- be—who will continue to make pf our streets and assemblies, to | induct themselves into mysterious pano- | plies that might safely be worshiped so un- like are they to anything on the earth, and all because somewhere, somehow, from somebody, they have got the idea that what y wear is “the fashion.” ‘onventionality.” says the sage, “is the t and the most foliowed of all natural laws.” Possibly accordion pleating is a onvention—since like poor it seems we are to have it always with us. As for ex- ample in this autumn evening gown—which is a mass of shimmering creases from top to bott The stuff is crepon—either silk a light wool—the color chosen to sult the m. It has trimming of n and rather wide ribbon. The a black, white or cream as best its en ec the ribbon ought to match exactly the hue of the stuff. Hace GARB FOR MOURNING. Costumes for Ladies Who Have Re- tired From Fashion’s Whirl. THE DREADED ROFF AND COLLAR, How Braid Should Adorn Hand- some Gowns. PICTURESQUE JACKET. a ‘Special Correspondence of The Evening Star. NEW YORK, September 15, 1893. NEW WAY OF “banding” skirts comes out every week now. This fash- fon commenced with a few parallel bands of ribbon or velvet, changed to permit a great many of them, and now the strips of ribbon can make al- most any pattern. ue This initial, for in- ¢}(t stance, .shows one Hs variation. This has |9*a costume of gray | @sutting,trimmea with ssgreen satin and silk. Each end of the spt- ral band on the skirt ends in a large ro- sette. The bodice has a narrow plastron of green silk, which is finished on either side with bands of black guipure insertion. The rest of the front of the bodice is made of cream colored silk, while the back and sleeves are of the gray etuff. The search tor odd effects in skirt adornment has led some daring dressmakers to follow festoon Unes about the skirts. These are elther trimmed with lace actually festooned and held up with bows of ribbons or knots of flowers, or else the ruffles are put on the skirts in wavy lines. Frequently there are only two festoons, the ruffe or puff curving down across the front and back of the skirt, and being caught up at the sides. ‘The bunch of ribbon or knot of flowers be- comes more and more a reminder of cur- tain drapery and horticultural collections. But the question just now is not is it pretty, is it graceful, but is it the fashion- able thing. If it is, go ahead. ‘The second and third pictures in this col- umn present tasteful models of stylish mourning. The first dress js made of black cashmere trimmed with crape. The moder- ately wide skirt 1s lined with silk and gar- nished with two bands of crape, one four inches wide, the other two inches, with » two-inch space between them. The round bodice is draped loosely with cashmere and hooks in the center. It is trimmed with bretelles of unlined seven inches wide, and has a standing collar of crape. At the left in the third picture there ts displayed a dress in second mourning. The material is a rough cashmere, and the skirt is trimmed with three rolls of crape around the bottom. The bodice is plain behind, but has a pointed plastron of crape in front, finished by a roll of the same on either side, with a second roll covering the first dart and continuing to the shoulders. The toilet has « pretty collarette in three parts, each edged with crape. The puff of the sleeve is divided by a crape band and the cuff is made entirely of it. The companion figure ig attired in deepest mourning. The fabric employed {s shaggy black foule trimmed profusely with crape. The skirt has a slight tram and) is covered with crape atout half way up. It lined with black lusterless silk. The round bodice is entirely covered with crape back and front, and the circular cape is edged with an eight-inch band of it, which continues up the front. The small crape bonnet supports a long veil, which is em- broidered along its edges with a small de- sign in lusterless black silk. if the fashions keep turning out such hor- rible examples of the dreaded ruff women will escape the infliction altogether. It is bad enough to contemplate the pictures The Garb of Grievi without risking getting into such things. A fashion to “take’ must be introduced in an attractive and not exaggerated form. ‘True it is that the fashion once settled it will be pushed to the most hideous extremes and stuck to through them all till it dies of its own overdevelopment, but in the be- ginning there is more sense shown. One of the offered models has a ruff effect of three upright and stiffened frills that pass stiffly about the neck and down the front to meet at @ point at the waist line. The awful Part of this is that the frills maintain their stiffness and uprightness all the way, and at the waist even stand at right angles to everything else. The frills are furnished with Vandyke polnts, and a man may just as well go and jump on a picket fence a: try to get his arms about a girl so protect- ed. The only pleasing effect obtained along the ruff line is the modification of {t that mounts a close frill on the top of the long popular choker collar. This requires a very long neck, but that fs all right. If the fash- fon that is requires a long neck, we must all have them, and that {s all there is to it. The Henry VIII ruff is a double frill affair, the sort of thing many a play has accus- tomed women to. This ruff adjusts itself to any sort of neck. ‘The frills are mounted on as narrow ® band as need be to be com- fortable. The frills stand out straight from the neck, instead of upright against it. They ‘stand out so far, and the band on which they ‘Two Other Examples. are mounted {s loose enough, so that you Teally have lots of ruff even if you have very Iittle neck, and thé effect 18 secured | successfully and without discomfort to | you. Maybe Henry VIII was not stylish, | but his ruff suits the {deas of style today, and now that you have learned how to get Into the thing without entire sacrifice of your head you can go in for it and be hap- py. But avold the other things. Two pretty street dresses are depicted in the fourth illustration. That at: the left is composed of dark blue foulard and trimmed with white lace and apple green surah. The skirt is trimmed in the novel way men- | three serpentine ruff bottom with narrow white lace. The round bodice hax @ pointed yoke of gathered green wilk, finished with bands of guipure | tioned at the description of the initial, with | ch edged top and | lace. The remainder is laid in tiny pleats and trimmed with vertical bands of lace insertion three inches wide. The other gown is made of pale blue dnd white striped organdie, trimmed with insertions of em- broidered batiste. ‘The skirt is lined with white satin and garnished on the inside with a pinked satin frill, The blouse waist {s plain in back, and the hooks in front are hidden by a strip of insertion. ‘The draped fronts have also two bands of the same insertion on either side. These fronts are loose, and are joined in the shoulder seam. The belt is a plain band of batiste. ‘The sleeves have a large, full puff and a long cuffs trimmed with two bands of inser- tion. Elaborate braiding is the rule on hand- some gowns, and it is so elaborate that it vies in richness of effect with embroidery. Silver and white are often used on dark Gresses. Velvet revers and collars aud sleeves and boleros are masses of applique work of all kinds. In the new gown all this means expense. But it is likewive a suggestion for the doing over of old gowns, and though fresh velvet may make a better foundation for embroidery, still the velvet so old that it can be used in no other way looks well when richly covered with hand- some work. The coat of the final sketch is rofusely embroidered in military fasnio in considering this garment it should be borne in mind that while circular capes and wraps of all descriptions remain as popular as ever nothing is more becoming to slen- der, youthful figures than the three-quarcer Jackets. This model is fashioned of a lixht- weight tobacco colored cloth set off with black braid. It fs tight fitting, with ample skirts, which have a large directoire pocket flap on each side, edged with braid and trimmed with three diagonal rows of th same, finishing in tiny round rosettes. Th: front of the skirt has a similar rosette each corner. A small pelerine cape is made independent of the jacket and fastened to it with hooks in front. It has a turned down collar, is edged with braid and gar- nished with two rosettes, as shown. The pointed gauntlet cuffs are trimmed in the same manner. Of “Swagger” Military Cut. Fashion, being hounded for new effects, proclaims that she will admit the pictur- esque Cossack Jacket this winter. This Jacket-hangs from the shoulders and isn’t any protection, but is charmingly pretty, however. They must be of heavy broad- cloth. They fit closely and are fastened straight up the front to the high choker. You may have them lined with the richest silk, satin or brocade, and spend all you want and have on braiding, cording and embroidery. One handsome model is worn with a perfectly plain gown of white broad- cloth. The bodice of the gown is heavily braided with gold and fastens straight up to the high collar with small gold buttons, ‘The skirt is the usual cut and has one band of gold braid at the foot. The jacket slings from the left shoulder. It is a mass of rich gold embroidery, and is Hned with heavy white satin, neck and sleeves being fin- ished with sable. The possible objection to such a gown would be that it and the coat idea, with its very rakish hang, {s a little suggestive of comic opera. Yet the ultra dame ventures upon the street clad in a hunter's green and Cossack jacket very early in the fall. Encouraged by the im- pression the green makes, she will soon sally forth in 4 scarlet one. And then—but Poor fashion ts hard pushed these Time was when she kept her follow: ers out of breath; now they tread upon her heels and cry faster! faster! till the poor jade pants for breath. A Poem About a Whale. From Macmillan's Magazi: A whale has been seen several times muting as it passed up and down the open channel opposite my native village on the coast of North Kent, and efforts had been made to drive the great creature into shal- low water so that it might be stranded and killed, but all to no purpose. At last, under the direction of a notable old sea dog, who went by the name of Dick the Whaler, the feat was accomplished, to the great mortification of those who had tried but failed to do the business. Some of Dick's partisans and admirers, in order to commemorate the event, re- quested one of his friends who enjoyed the reputation of being a regular “dab- er” at verse making to compose some- thing worthy of the occasion in order still further to humble the pride of the other leader. ‘The poet was supplied with a bundle of quill pens, plenty of ink and paper and, besides these, two large dumpy bottles cf “ager mixter,” so called. After two days had elapsed a deputation went to see what he had succeeded in producing. They were received by the wife, who told them that the work was proceeding well, but they must not “worrit him.” On the fourth day she let them know that they could now come up for the verses. With all the gravity befitting the situa- tion these were handed over that evening, the poet also contributing a tune which he had composed to sult them. They be- n as follows: ‘here cummed unto our coast a whale, A very big whale, indeed, T’others couldn't catch un, But we did. Hip, hip, hip, hooray’ Our village was not critical, and the verses were sung and roared through the quiet streets to the inspiring accompani- ment of a drum and a key bu; S — Information From the Slot. From the Pittsburg Chronicle. “A year or so ago,” said a young man to a Pittsburger, “I spent a few weeks in New Orleans. One day I saw a machine which bore the inscription: ‘Drop a nickel in the slot and learn how to make your pants last.’ As I hadn't a great deal of money I thought an investment of 5 cents to show me how to save the purchase of a pair of trousers would be small capital put to good use, so I dropped a nickel in and a card appeared. What do you suppose it recommended as the way to make your pants last?" ‘Don't wear ‘em, I suppose.” ‘What did it say?" “Make your coat and vest first.” see An Estimate of From the Detroit Free Press. : The candidate for Congress had been making a speech in one of the towns of his district, where he was not well known personally, and in the evening, while waiting for a train, he strayed into a butcher shop, and without saying who he was began to pump the butcher to find out how he stood. Oratery. ~ “Did you hear that speech this after- | noon? “he inquired, after some general talk. “Yes, replied the butcher. “I was there. “What did you think of it?” “Pshaw,” said the honest butcher, “I’ve made a better speech than that a hundred tim g to sell fifteen cents’ worth of soup-bone. The candidate concealed his identity AGAIN THE SEALSIIN. Not Cheap but Less High Because of Pelagic Sealing. Ahem! It is really a bit marvelous to see how dear woman’s adornment goes on all fours with affairs of state. Word comes from the fur beings that sealskin, barome- ter of the pelt market, will be only 10 per cent higher than last season—further, that this moderateness is wed to the pelagic sealers, who defied at once the terrors of the frozen deep, of Uncle Sam and his sail- ormen and of villainous saltpeter. No won- der they have their reward in an enormous catch. Fortune, it is notorious, favors the bold. No wonder either if next year they be bolder than ever and bring back such store of pelts as shall make the heart of womankind to sing for joy. No matter how many come as many more will be needed. For now my lady is not content with a single seal coat, even though it be snug and shapely as the new model here set down that she wears for the prom- enade. For her carriage she wears a cape of sealskin falling to the feet and plenti- fully edged with mink tail or sable. Then, too, she orders seal bands of the richest, the darkest upon her house gowns, her smart evening frocks, and for cloth cos- tumes the new fur mosaic passementerie where a pattern of one skin is set in a ground of another. As for example, a Virginia creeper leaf of beaver inlaid upon sealskin, the outline @efined with gold or silver cord. Ur may- be it 1s seal flowers upon @ ground of sabie, or “baby” lamb, the rich soft wavy biack- ness stripped from young creatures stran- gied at birth. Besides all this there are furs gled at birth. Besides all this there are hats and toques of sealskin—it is the fur of furs for headgear—and lots of loops and whiffels for trimming plain felt, or giving the eclat of style to cloth head coverings made to match the gown. Mink, too, retains its hold on fashion’s mind. It is, in fact, an excellent third to sable and seal—which, it is safe to say, will go out of style only when fur is tabooed. Beaver will be much used for the little folks—in capes, coats, atmiets and so on, as well as in bands for trimming the gowns of their mothers, their sisters, their cousins and their aunt strakhan is likewise a favorite for this winter, as it has been for several winters past. The newest thing, in- deed, is that exceilent old one—ermine— which, it is said, will figure very largely in the later season’s modes, oe HEADS AND HEADGEAR. Some Faint Mutterings of What the Winter 5! it Bring Fort! For fully a dozen of these last years—as regularly, indeed, as they brought snow drops, or spring poets, or fish stories, or Christmas day—we have had the authorita- tive announcement that the bang was doomed, fringe outlawed, fluff clean out of style. Yet tn each year of grace woman- kind has gone on rolling, frizzing, curty- cueing, burning its forehead with hot irons, risking flery death through the omnipresent alcohol lamp, sleeping a happy martyr with rolls of paper or wire or stuff all over the head—for the sake of having flossy tendrils or softening waves to lie above its fore- heads. The fact is nature seldom makes a mistake—thus it is that we see on childish heads the wisps and twirls and curls, to which #0 much of child beauty 1s due. There 1s nothing more ghastly on earth, in the heavens above or the waters under the earth than a hard-featured or thin or faded face with the hair parted undeviatingly above the forehead and strained in a dead line around about it. In such case even untidiness—waifs and strays torn by wind or weather from the terrifying sleekiness are*a biessed relief. Therefore, let each woman plume herself over the fact that though the high muck-a- mucks are again saying the fringe must go, that harmless and beautifying appanage 1s staying right along, quite as though it knew itself the delight of the eyes, the heart of those same high and mighty au- thorities. In proof look upon the colfture lately evolved by an artist from his inner consciousness and realized by a brother ar- tist, whose sign manual and badge of of- fice was the curling fron. Between them a mere ordinary, pretty girl was turned to a shimmering angel—and all by the help of the curling fron, supplemented by a few hairpins and an eye for effect. ‘The new hats, as far as developed, fur- nish other and most excellent reasons why the fringe should not go. Those here 1i- lustrated are of felt, trimmed with ribbon loops and quills. Each is serviceabiy styl- ish, but each one unquestionably needs to have its severity softened by unmasculine rings about the brow it covers. — Too Convenient for Swindlers, -om the Droguistan Zeitung. Fron Germany a patent has been refused and the manufacture and sale have been prohibited of @ paper so prepared that any Ink writing upon its surface could be eras- ed by the simple application of a moist sponge. The paper was made of the ordi- ary ingredients, with the addition of as- bestos and parchment glue. The paper pulp, after rolling, was immersed for a Short time (from six to thirty-five seconis, according to the thickness of the paper to be prepared from {t) in concentrated su! phurie acid at twenty degrees, diluted with ten to fifteen per cent of water. It was then pressed between glass rollers, passed successively through water, ammonia solu- tion, and second time through water, strongly pressed between rollers, and dried on felt rollers, and finally on polishel and heated metal ‘rollers. The finishel article 1s said to be precisely ike ordinary paper. Its sale has been prohibited on account of the misuse to which ft can be pat. Royalty Doesn’t Always Come High. ‘From the London Figaro. ‘The smaliness of his stature fs almost as sore a point with the Duke of York ag the same short is with his father, the Princess ‘ales and Princess are a good deal taller than their and that is why the Prince of Wales has such a marked aversion to being. photo- graphed standing by the side of the cess. If you look at graph of their royal highnesses, you will see that either the princess is sittin chair with the prince standing behind her, oF, te the [be standing up the prince is mounted on some steps in the background. ‘There are a number of the masculine mem- bers of our royal family who would be pre- pared to take any quantity of thought if they could thereby add an inch ov two to their height, A TRAVELING CLOAK. It in Described With Three 8’s—Street, Servicenble, Stylish. ‘Those who go down to sea in ships will especially rejoice in the garment here pic- tured, For it is made of fine pure wool— tweed or cheviot—in all manner of oulet colors, 1s 80 well cut as to give the wearer an air of breeding and has the enormous advantage of shedding its capes at wil, as the sun may shine or the wind may blow. Like charity, too, it hides a multitude of sins—such sing, that is, as huddled gar- ments or those'that are past their prime. For a wet day it is simply ideal, ag under it the skirts can be safely lifted, and the cloak itself, if faced up underneath with leather or waterproof, will take no horm from the pelting of the most pitiless storm. Besides, the rough surface turns water and does not change from dampness, as do the finer faced cloths. Whole and several it is as nearly a thing of beauty as one can be, whose variety of use makes it a joy fer- ever. Before the winter is out it may be a truly gorgeous garment—that !s, if It be made to match the new tweed costumes— which in some cases could give points to Joseph's coat of many colors—yet still come in winners hands down. Red, blue, orange, tabar, wine and plum appear mixed with Diack, ‘brown, gray and heather shades. Even then’ the serges are way ahead in color. So ts the hopsacking, which fs a close second to serge. Both are seen in shot weaving, red and black, orange and black, red and blue, blue and brown, even crimson and yeliow. Indecd nearly all the new woolens show either a shot surface or two or three tones of color, so woven as to form strongly con- trasted ‘figures. Coarse knotted surfaces are prevalent—even more so is the croco- dile Weave—which has many lines of cclor upon @ thickly wrinkled ground. Another fabric that is fine and clumsy looking is Astrakhan cloth, woven as nearly 4s pos- sible to imitate that fur, save ‘n color, which shows blending, such red_and te gray, green and dark brown. There are shot whipcords, too, und diagonal spotted with silks, besides mixtures of silic and wool that look like the matelasse of two seasons back. A COAT OF MANY CAPES. My Lady Wears It When She Stirs Abroad Strange Countries for to See. When Petruchio set about ¢ressing out his shrewish Catherine—then, good lack, no longer shrowish—one item of apparel was “sleeves curiously cut.” If nowadays the good man set about making his bride finer than Friday there is no doubt he would find that curious cutting pertained to much more than sleeves. For have we not a promise of skirts absolutely seamless, cut from specially woven stuffs enormously wide, with just a snip at the middle to let the wearer's head and shoulders through, which snip is elaborately buttoned over at one side and makes the skirt’s sole upper trimming. The place at the bottom is, of course, enormous. One crowning mercy of the onire style is that if the amateur dress- maker attempts it even with a pattern the Tesult will be so calculated to make gods weep and men swear as to be absolutely unwearable. 2 Wherefore tt is likely that we shall escape those intolerable caricatures of the seam- less skirt which make a-many other styles painfully evanescent. It ts quite as likely, though, that the basque joined by a waist seam to the summer's round bodice will ramp and ravage and riot from the east unto the west. The prospect is truly ap- palling, since only to about one woman in 10,000 is it given to have finger tips capable of giving such confections the proper set, and at least ninety and nine women in the hundred look when dresed in such fashion as though they and their carments had to- gether suffered surgery of the heroic sort. Here's a cape coat, madames, for maids and matrons all. It is meant for @ travel- ing garment and is properly made of col- ored cloth—cinnamon, pearl, drab, fawn, blue or olive green. The skirt fastens in- visibly and ends in two scant frills below the upper edge. It has five big white but tons on the double-breasted bodice, the revers are faced with silk, and open in a deep V overlaid bib. Outside of them comes a soft double fichu of the same silk, which fills all the space betwixt collar and sleeve. Altogether it is a wonderfully taking gar- ment—whence beauty may go beautifully— and ugliness find that relief of style —— ‘The Country Drug Store. From Life. DAYS OF HOME RULE. Col. MeNeery Looks Forward Much Glee. From the Chicago Evening Post. Colonel McNeery had just finished the story of the passage of the home rule bill when Mr. McKenna walked in. “Well,” said the colonel, “I s'pose ye've taken passage f'r Ireland, Jawn, me bye? “What for?” said Mr. McKenna. “Didn't ye hear that th’ home rule bill'é been passed be a majority in th’ house iv commons?" “No; is that so," said Mr. McKenna with- out much interest. “Who do you think’s arrested?” “Now, luk here, Jawn,” said the colonel warmly. “If ye think this do be th’ awfus iv th’ Poliss Gazette ye’er an th’ wrong thrack. I may take that inthrestin’ journal fr th’ purpose iv mintal reckreation, but I haven't been appinted Chicago cawr'spon- dent fv it yet, an’ if ye've anny information about low life west iv the red bridge ye can save it f'r O'Connor. I’m tellin’ ye iv th’ home rule bill passin’ th’ house tv commons. This pa-aper says they was cheers an’ coun- ter cheers, whativer th’ ‘ell a counter cheer do be I dunno, an’ whin old Glad-stun wint out tv the house gr-reat crowds iv people saluted his carriage with cheers, an’ 1 sup- bose they're lightin’ th’ tur’rf on tvery hill- Side in Connock tonight, barrin’ O'Connor's county, where they won't know about it tll they get it in a letter fr'm America. “Well, well, it do be @ er-reat day fr Ire- land—a' gr-reat day, tuvy sure. I don’t undhrstand thurly that th’ stuff is off, but annyhow ‘tis started, an’ all 'ell can't shtop 4t ‘That there Glad-stun’s a mighty man, a mighty pow’rful shtrong mar. the’ I knowed wan gr-reater that's deal now, Gawd be good to um. An’ he'll have thi bill thru if he has to take th’ ould queeii be th’ neck. No love has that ould girl f'r Ire- jand. But whin they get a parlymint ’ti Uttle they’lt care f'r queens or Glad-stun: Qh, dear, oh, dear! I’m an ould man, Mc- Kinna, bat if there's ever a parlymint in Dublin T'll have a front seat an’ a tab if lose my life. Think iv it. Iv coorse all th’ pathriots that’s over here now ‘Il rayturn, f'r there'll be nawthin’ more f'r thim to do here. They'll be no dinnymite to send over, tho’, by gar, if they get too gay an’ don’ give th’ nineteenth wa-ard proper repr'sia- tation on the police force ye'll see Mcin- erney traveling across with a couple iv gaspipe bombs in the tails iv that there Jong coat he wears to sing ‘Gawd Save Ire- land’ th’ night they raymimber Allen, Lar- kin an’ O’Brien. So alt th’ pathriots ‘Il gaw over an’ get thimsilves elicted to pa-ar lyment an’ like as not they'll elict Morris Moriarity speaker. Me, oh my! Morris 's th’ la-ad that'll put a ‘crimp in Healy and William O'Broyn an’ th’ likes iv thim that Canada Bill cuddent take out. ‘I arise to a pint iv ordher,” says Uttle Healy. ‘Set down. ye little thramp,’ says the speaker. ‘I rec’gnise me frind Alderman Brinnan fr'm th’ ateteenth.’ “I demand me rights,’ Says Healy. ‘Th’ chair,’ says Morris, ‘re- quists th’ sarg’nt-at-a-arms to dhrop that Uttle two-be-four lawyer out tv th’ win- dow,’ an be th’ sa-ame token if Morris is feelin’ in good health ‘tis no two to wan he wouldn't get down fr'm th’ platform an’ give his own sarvices in th’ inthrests iv Deace. “Shull, they may bar th’ American pa- thriots; in which ivint ther'll be th’ “ells own throuble around th’ Columbus statu I don’t think there's much shtuff in th’ Irishmen these da: Jawn. Faith, in the ould days th’ flure tv an Irish perly-mint ‘d luk like @ annytomical collection afther a debate. Th’ speaker ‘d have to rayquist th’ honrable gintieman fr'm May-o to iave his flail in th’ coat-room an’ th’ hon'rable gin- tleman fr'm Clare to take his teeth out iv 4 i iv th’ im" an’ raysume his speech. But that ould breed is dead an’ gone, rest their sowl: im peace, an’ th’ presint gin’ration so far as I can see ts a poor, spiritiess, washed out jot. I bet there's not a stick player in pa-arties in parly-mint an’, so I'm tould, th’ mimber fr'm Tipperary has a game arm an’ cuddent throw a shtone across th’ street. ‘Think tv th’ dis-graace iv it. Those iv thim T've seen over here wears white pa-ants an’ smokes cigareets an’ tries to talk with an English accint which is as r-raspin’ on th’ nerves to hear Dutchman singin’ ‘Fa-ather O'Flynn.” “If it wasn't f'r th’ women fv Ireland th’ Dla-ace wuddent be fit for a man to live in. No, by gar! But they're all right. They're just as pretty an’ just as good as they was in th’ ould days, an’ be th’ sa-ame token about all th’ brains have dayscinded to thim. If they let th’ wimmin r-run th’ parly-mint with th’ help iv a few lads from over here,I'd buy a ticket back tomorrot I would that. An’ maybe they will.” “Who d'ye supposed be king?” said Mr. McKenna facetiousty. “Well, maybe Finerty. He'd take it if there was annything in it. But between us me own choice is Macchew P. Brady. He have th’ appearance iv a king o> three iv thim. He'd be strong with th’ soggarths annyhow. “I heard that Lawler had a petition out already,” said Mr. McKenna. “Have Lawier a petty-shup out? “He has that. “Well,” said the colonel, with solemn de- cision, “Frank’d make a good king—a dam good king.” ——-~_ 0+ ONLY A BIT OF CAMPHOR. The Artfal Dodge Which an Upstairs Girl Played: on a Housewife. “I thought I was acquainted with pretty nearly every kind of trick,” said a Wash- ington housewife the other day, “but I have struck @ new one lately. I hed an upstairs girl last winter who seemed to be a treas- ure. It is a test of a good servant that she will do things without being told, don't you know. This girl was one of that sort. I prized her very highly, and when I went away on the last day of June, I arranged with her that she was to return to me in the autumn. In fact, the date of her com- ing back was set at September 1. “Just before she left me she said that she had some clothes which she would like to leave behind her, because she had not room for them in her trunk. I told her that she was welcome to do 80, and suggested that she would lock them in the upper bureau drawer in her room and take the key. She thanked me, but presently she came to me again and said that the articles of clothing which she desired to leave were the best she had, and that she was afraid they might be eaten by moths. Accordingly, she sug- gested that she would be glad if I would give her some camphor to put with them. I aia so. “That was the last J thought of the mat- ter for two months. When we came back to town on the Ist of September she did not turn up, as was expected. Several day: elapsed, ‘and still she failed to appear. 1 had written, and I wrote again, to the ad- dress she had given me, but I got no re- sponse. Meanwhile I was grievousiy in want of a servant; but 1 waited hopefully, being reluctant to engage anybody cise. i felt perfectly certain that something unex- pected must have occurred to prevent her coming, and that she would make her ap- pearance soon, because she left her clothes behind her. I’ mentioned this to a lady of my acquaintance, who has had more experi- ence in keeping house than }. Said she: “How do you know that she has left the clothes behind her?” ““Because she locked them in a drawer of the bureau upstairs,” I explained. “Have you looked into the drawer?” in- quired my friend. “Certainly not,’ I said. key away with her.” ‘She took the are there’ “ ‘Why, I can smell the camphor!" J said. “That doesn’t prove anything,’ rejoined my friend. “You open the drawer and see what you find.” “Well, that was a new idea to me. I lost no time in going up to the room which the girl had occupied and in trying the bu- reau drawer with every key T had. The Very last one opened it. There was not one thing in the drawer except a piece of cam: phor, evidently the remains of the lamp I had given her, close to the key hole, where | it could be most easily smelled from out- de. The whole scheme was simply a@ of wh ruse, the object h was to make | sure that I would keep the young woman's place for her, having reason for confidence that she would return. Meanwhile, if she | chose to change her mind, she could stay jaway. It was a great deal of ingenuity exercised on a very small piece of decep- tion. But the artfainess of it was wonder- ful. Don't you think #07 —_—>-— Saved. From Truth. The chief Powhatan was about to puiver- tze Mr. John Smith, when a shriek rent tue air, and Pocahontas stood beside them. ‘Stay! she commanded. Ah,” exclaimed Smith, who was noied for his fertility in resource, “you are the first girl I ever loved.” Pocahontas was just graduated and be- leved everything she heard, and so they were married A Cane Weekly. do yer be takin’ thim well again?” th, would ye be |navin’ me let 4 dollar's worth of pills go ito waste? It's a thriftiens family of par ried inv, sure” | | Prom the New York | Ww An’ phwy | pills when yez Hushand.“F. hon’rable gintleman fr’m | } \ = —— FOR WELL DRESSED MEN. Sagacstions a: e Forthcomiag Fall Styles. Prom the New York Herald. Just at present the well Gressed man ts in a chrysalis state, not yet having emerged from his butterfly existence of the summer to the more sober tints of the fall, but tm & few weeks, presto! And we shall hardly know him. To the flannel suit and blazer, To the outing shirt and tie, To the easy shoe of russet He will bid a fond good-bye. ‘That is, let us hope that the russet shoe will depart with the waning of the season. I have observed a decided tendency in the past in favor of the russet shoe for cold weather. Most of the shor dealers have been obliged to satisfy this demand and make up @ heavier article for the winter. But I desire to enter a firm protest against this custom. If it isn't stopped we shall be wearing rus- set shoes with evening dress next. Can one imagine anything more horrible? Nothing is more pleasing than to note the growing diver gence berween Amer- fean anaEnglish fashe ions. ‘This year it will, perhaps, be miore eve ident in the hat thas anything else. The English derby ts small. The American derby this vear will be full at the crown and more rounded. You remember the pointed hat of & few years ago? ‘That was one extreme The pendulum of fashion swings back an@ forth, and each season marks a different Stage In its progress. Now we have Tounded outlines. The silk hat. w even @ more decided bell than last ¥ @ man with slim legs not wearing an overcoat will present a somewhat top heavy appear+ ance. That is if he desires to gu to the exe treme. But the well dressed man hever goes to extremes. He abhors the loud shirtings, the exaggerated outlines of many of out younger swells who ought to know better. Speaking of shirtings, they will be severes ly plain. The correct thing for event will be plain white linen with proterably two studs, although I see no objection te wearing three In collars there ts little change, the tarned over " points being still most desir- able. A new shape just put on the mark- et is quite high, with points slightly turned and but little space -, between. In ‘cuffs square ends only ure permissible. There “nh a marked tendency of late years nd the broadcloth for dress sult and this is still noticeable, worsteds an Vicunas being the most ponular materials, But broadcloth will always be worn, espe- cially by mature men. ‘The dress coat will have slightly longer tails, the waistcoat will be cut more V shaped than formerly, and the trousers, of course, will be slightly snugger in fit tha orn during the day. Silk waistcoats ther they wi be In I be well received vidual tastes are remains to likely to govern these matters to 4 great extent, and with regard to the size certainly @ man’s legs have something to do with it. But for the average well dressed man trous- ers will be 19 inches wide at the knee an@ -2 wt the bottom. For the pattern, stripes are always in style, gray colors predominat- ing, and a check, if it be very small, is not undesirable. ‘The taile of all autumn sults will be longer. The froc coat began last year to grow longer and it still continues. Frocks ’ i be long never. and, like old fashioned will al- : most cep the ground. This offers a. splendid chance for the extremists. Some of them no doubt will have trails to their frock coats and will wear silk hose on rainy days for street crossing purposes. Overconts. To correspond with the length of unfer- coats, overcoats, of course, will be very, long. Of these there is a great variety Close fitting outer garments are coming in again, but the box ill still be worn. ‘The length of the coat 18 evidenced in the accompanying {i- lustration. For even- ing dress the In’ ness will be the only coat worn this year by the quite correct. This will be made of frosted beavers or smooth goods in black. In colors blue has gone out more or Jess, and grays will predominate. These will be especially prominent in the frock coat. The three buttoned cuta still continues to be the most gra d satisfactory garment worn. The wide ik braid has been discarded and English stitching is as popular as it was in the spring. The tails will be quite long. As ior the sack, the three buttoned style will be popular. "It will be cut away more in front and be very much longer behind. I looked over some new styles of neck- wear the other day thar have not yet been placed on the market. They were all of , . silk, the satin tle be- ing almost a relic of the past, as it is im- possible "to satin into a graceful knot and it does not wear well. Different de- signs were shown, the prevailing colors being a black or dark blue background re- lieved by dashes of color in smal! figures. The four-in-hand will be a trifle wider tn the ends than former- ty, and, where the figures are larger, when tied the knot will be somewhat larger in proportion. But the smail knot, with the wide flowing ends, is the correct thing. Two popular styles are given in the cuts sub- joined. We shall probably develop this form of Insanity soon, but the well dressed man will be quict tn his taste and wear something less startling than @ scarf that resembles the headlight of an engine. By the way, the Moorish and Persian scarfs of lust winter are no more. They were too brilliant to last. It should be almost unnecessary to mention that the ready made tle ts « thi not to be thought of twice. Scarf pins will be, if anything, smaller than ever. and now that the Ascot tie has taken a back seat they will be worn almost exclusively in the four-in-hand or De Joinville, Anything un- necessary should really not be worn, and @ scarfpin in a four-lu-hand serves no useful purpose. But they are worn and probably Will continue to be worn by the best people, see EDISON'S METHODS. “Then how do you know that the clothes | afther | by Accident oF at Work. Does Not Inven Reach Results W From the Review of Reviews. His gente ar to justifying that efinition of the word which makes it an in- comes finite capacity for taking pains. “Are your discoveries often brilliant intuitions? Do they come to you while you are lying wake nights?” T asked him “T never did anything worth doing by ac- cident,” he replied, “nor did any of my in- ventions come indirectly through accident, excent the phonograph. No, when I ha fully decided that a result is worth getting, 2on K and make trial after trial Ilgoe until it comes. I have always kept strictly within the lines mmercially useful in- ventions, 1 have never had any time to put on electrical wonders, valuable simply @s novelties to catch the popular fancy.” And he distinction some noted electric made their reputations | through) hnics of the profesic “What © al erriosity constant, tirel that you car the mone? {t mal tienlar enthus ding fame.” “| like it,” he answ after a moment | of puzzied expression, and then he repeated his reply several times, es if mine was a proposition that had not occurred to him * “I ike it, J don’t know wny other ‘om KNOW Some people ke to Anything 1 have began ny 1, and I am not en ay from T hate it.” 1 asked, struck by his emphat- it until tt is finished. 4 the Hate it ic tones, An hen it ts all done bear the sight of it. J haven't used a telephone In ten years, ana 1 would go out of my way euy day t miss an ‘acandescent MkLL”