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8 THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, MARCH 31, 1894—TWENTY PAGES. PRETTY AS FLOWERS The Lovely Spring Gowns That Rival Nature. AIDING WOMAN'S CHARMS Beautiful Costumes Designed tor Individual Styles. COMBINATIONS OF COLORS Written Exctusively for The Evening Star. OW THE FUN BE- the roses back dancers are wild to show their pretty new gowns. Such lovely @owns as they are! It is no wonder that the owners want to display them. They hint of summer and June nights; of sunset skies, moonlight on the lake, and shady, vine-enveloped verandas. In fact, they make you think of all the pretty things You ever saw or heard of. It is hard to describe them, they are so dainty and so artistically shaded. There is the color that you see in the blue bell that grows im the darkest part of the woods; the pink that peeps from the clefts of the moss Fose; the yellow of the daffydowndilly the rich, rare red of the jacqueminot; the purple of the larkspur, and the “rale” emer- @ld green. These are the prime favorites, Dut they each have a half do: comple- ments in intermediate shades which find Feady admirers. Some are devoted to white. One does not think often of “shades” of white, but a woman will get the nervous headache trying to match shades of white, ‘which run from that in the heart of a bride Fose to the alabaster purity of the annun- ¢iation Illy. And white, be it known, is effected a great deal now by matrons, as well as maids. Like a Pink Rose. And these maids! I declare, it seems though they get prettier each year! Or it that the . more fascinating, fhe colors less Harsh. or are the girls gift- ed with better taste in gowning themselves? Whatever it is, a bevy of this season's de- butants will move you to such flights of Yancy that you can actually quote Tenny- @on about them. You remember how he Stalked around in the garden waiting for Maud? And® how the very flowers longed Yor her coming? Well, the blossoms could get up a claim to relationship with some of Washington's flower-faced girls, and be oa of the connection; but whom to call ‘Queen rose of the rosebud garden of sirls; queen rose and lily in one,” I am gure would puzzle a connoisseur in beauty to determine. They are all so pretty in their “gloss of satin and glimmer of pearls” that when they come The red rose cries, ‘she is near, she is near,” The white rose weeps ‘she is late’ Whe larkspur listens, ‘I hear, I hi And the lily whispers, ‘I wai and when they get out of their fleecy wraps @nd shake down their draperies, give a last tug to their long gloves, and a parting pat_to the nearest approach to an 1S colffure, that they dare attempt, e whole Yoom “blossoms in purple and red,” that 4s, that part of it that isn’t taken up with white, and pink, and yellow and green. ‘Away back in the other century a poet mang, “I'd be a butterfly born in a bower, Where roses and lilies and violets meet.” So it is very plain to be m that there y girls then as now. and been gowned so divinely be a ninny who would sigh to a butterfly this spri when all he has to do to see hun roses and lilies and vio- lets meet” is to get himself into evening @ress and sox There was a sj) @resses at a « this week. One of the gowns it might Bave been c of pink sun- get and trimme Words, it wa The childish p In other pik liberty silk. ice had big puffed 4 bod! kere Stately and Superb. sleeves and some cobwebby cream lace ing over them; a pi lace smoothly against the white neck and Bounce of it ed © full skirt, ide over a pink he lace on it. i the only ni wore a pink ribbon rk hair and she was . She had the it of a rosebud h blue and escape she + @arlint,” Sh t h red in i gins again. Six weeks of comparative rest has freshened jaded spirits and brought to wan cheeks, and rest- ed feet are longing to tread the “merry measure” again. it must be admitted, too,that the would-be a} merry eyes. I finally gave the palm to her eyes. There was a larkspur girl, all in lavender moire. She, too, had big puffed sleeves, cnd her pretty shoulders were modestly revealed by the wide bertha of lace. It was the front of her dress that suggested larkspur—that and the prim, straight figure. The front Panel of lustrous white satin had lavender ribbons, brought forward and tied in seven A Larkspar Girl. vows down the center. The wearer was fair “divinely taM! and most divinely fair"—and there was not a gleaming about her except her shining golden hair and her flashing hazel eyes; the addition of a bit of gold or a gem would have disturbed the per- fect ensemble. With the larkspur girl was one who might have stood for a gorgeous red rose or 2 poppy, or tulip, or—well, anything that is rich and rare and glowing. She was dark, with an olive skin, sunkissed into roses on | her cheeks. Her dress was an odd con- ception, just dancing length. The bodice as red satin, and down the front, into a point almost at her feet, extended a panel of red satin, which set plainly and smooth ly over the hips. It was edged with jet. The rest of the red satin skirt was covered with black Chantilly lace ruffes, twelve of them, each about three inches wide, and the red satin sleeves were covered with blac! lace ruffles, while a bertha of lace ran down to the black satin crush belt, back and front. There were dozens of new gowns, pale greens with silver trimmings, and one had an exquisite garniture of old duchess lace. White, in moire, liberty silk and bengaline, elaborately fashioned and lace-trimmed, was a favorite gown; and, excepting for very large women, white makes, next to black, the handsomest evening gowr that can be devised. One young lady was !n white tulle, and as she is no longer as young as she used to be, and ts short and fat, she looked like a ballet dancer down on her knees. Short girls ought to have more taste than to wear materials that stand out like that. Next to white, the lighter shades of pur- ple seem to be great favorites, with pink and blue coming next. But, if you were to ask me which I thought was the very prettiest of all, I would have to confess that I have no choice. Your favorite flower may not be, even to yourself, the prettiest, but you like it for its perfume, its associations, its habits, or something of that kind. So it 1s with beautiful gowns. They all please your artistic sense, on the pecple who wear them—that Is, if they have chosen them wisely; but if you were to put the larkspur Red as a Rose. girl in the poppy dress, or the pink rose girl in the daffodil gown, rou would mix those children up, till I woull go off in dis- gust and wonder if the present generation of girls was born color blind. There is an eternal fitness of things that governs gown- ing, just as it governs everything else in this world that turns out a success. IW. B. ee eS HOUSEHOLD ©=CONOMY. zgestions That Shouk’ Receive the Attention of Every Housekeeper. A great deal of unnecessary expense may be saved in housekeeping without depriv- ing the family of the best that the market affords, says the Boston Tianscript, by a systematic course of borrowing prime arti- cles of butter, tea, coffee, &c., from the neighbors and repayine in foods of an in- expensive character; or thé act of repay- ment may be neglected <«ltogether with profit for a limited period. As a general thing, however, it is economy to meet one’s debts of this kind in the manner that has been suggested. It is far better to pay the butcher than the doctor. Therefore, if a member of the family fall ill it is clearly tmprovident to waste money in the employment of a phy- sician or upon drugs and medicines. In- stead, rather spend the money upon prime cuts of meat and artificially raised fruits and vegetables. If the sick person cannot eat of these luxuries the well ones, includ- ing yourself, can eat them; so that not only is money saved, but there is a distinct and acceptable gain to you in the matter of diet. Chairs can be made to last many years and to look as good as nevv if the repre- hensible habit of sitting in tiem is avoided. This course is far preferable to the prac- tice in vogue in some families of covering the chairs with brown linen or cambric, and more efficacious, inasmu as it not only preserves the upholstery in all its fresh- ness, but it also saves the framework from co wear and tear that is inseparable from use. Cleanliness is a great thing in its wa but a great saving may be effected in soap and water by less frequent washing of clothing than generally obtains, and the money saved in these articles may be spent to advantage upon diamonds and jewelry, which, it need not be said, are indispea- sable to any one who would make a good impression in polite society. It is not economy to purchase any of the patented food prescribed for roaches and water bugs. These household pets will thrive quite as well upon bread crumbs, meat refuse and table orts generally, and the expense is not appreciable. It is a mistaken {dea that children should not be allowed to partake of sweets until the substantial parts of a meal nave been disposed of. By permitting the little ones to indulge freely in saccharine foods at the | outset, their stomachs will become cloyed, rendering it impossible for them to partake largely of other articles, and thus will your meat bill be, in more than one way, sen- sibly diminished. A great saving in coal may be e‘fected | by allowing the fires to go out immediately jafter a meal is prepared. This gives you | an opportunity to go to your neighbors for | warmth, and as your house is uncomfort- ably cold the visits you make will not be returned, and thus you economize in two ways. H sos | A Social Triumph. From the Chicago Record. | Mrs. Gossippe—“I hear you attracted | much rotice on your appearance in the | Social world abroad. Mrs. Numoney- should say so. I wore jon an average from $20,000 to $35,000 of | diamonds every ball I went to.” ——_+ e+ —____ A Fortune. From the Detroit Free Press. Oldun—“As poor as you are and going to marry? Yungun—“That’s what.” Oldun—“Has your wife anything?" Yung ‘No; but she will have.” Olun—“What?” Yungun (proudly)—"“Me.” ABUSE OF CLOTHES Senora Sara’s Girls Are Given Some Wholesome Advice. THE CARE OF DRESSES How a Woman Should Buy and Wear Shoes. THE WELL-GOWNED WOMAN Written Exclusively for The Evening Star. F SARA WASN'T ‘ just the best sister in the world, I would feel like saying that she is mean to me fometimes.” That was the way Rose-in- bloom took to say that I had refused to get her a new dress to wear Easter. ‘The way she came to say it was the re- sult of a confab in my room over the new dresses that the girls had been get- ting for their spring campaign. “Now, Rosy Posy, what has Sara been doing to you that you should try to blacken her fair name in that way?” asked Louise. “It is what she will not do that ts hurt- ing me most. I want a new dress for Easter, and she says that I am not care- ful of my clothes and so she will not let me have another dress until it is time to put on white. Isn’t it just awful?” Of course the girls all declared that I was an unfeeling wretch; and then Rose- in-bloom came over and kissed me and said she felt that she had been vindicated, and could afford to “make up” with me. After mussing my curefully arranged crimps, with oue of her childish hugs, she went off singing. She is a sensible girl, and is not hard to manage, but I think sometimes that the love of pretty things will be a great stumbling block to her if she is not carefully restrained while she is young. “Iam afraid that if you were to apply that kind of discipline to all your girls, Sara, none of us would appear in new dresses very soon,” said Elaine, as she stirred up the thread and odds and ends in my work-basket, hunting for a needle and thread to mend a rip in the glove that Nora had been in tco big a hurry to re- pair before leaving home. Elaine is the personification of neatness. Her visit has been one of unalloyed pleasure to us, for she is so well balanced, mentally, and being several years older than any of the others, has had an excellent influence upon them! She is their oracle. “Indeed, I think it !s a shame that Rose- in-bloom Should bear the brunt of the bur- den, when Dorothy is nearly as bad as sh is,” said Nora, who is not much more than a child herself, and ought to be in school, instead of society, and she would be, 1 mother was as sensible 2 Mrs, 5 is about her daugh 5 e wi of the Vice President is decidedly of the opinion that girls should remain in school uptil they have completed their education, be- fore entering society, and her idea of an education is a broad one, that will take a girl well up into twenty-one or two to ac- complish. Her own beautiful daughters are exemples of this method. Dorotay gave Nora a pinch, For soodness sake don’t get Sara start- ed about my shortcomings. We won't get to the matinee this afternoon if you do. She points all her morals and udoras ‘d tales wi me. I would like if you please.” “Do you think that a girl can be so ex- careful of her clothe has no maid, Elaine row of Jennie’s life that she cannot have a maid. She delights to tell that Was ma! ~d her mother had ne ber own hair or buttoned her own b “I think that it is a sin not io ful, whether one has a maid or “When I was qui young ad to leave me to look after taught me how might be my own clothes, and she to care for them, so that they kept fresh-looking, and I have alw to follow her instructions, even ¢ could have a maid to attend to those mat- ters for me.” | “O, Elaine, were you ever very poor?” asked Louise. “So poor, once upon a time, that my very best dress was a six cent calico fur sum- mer, and a cheap cashmere for winter.” Elaine rather enjoyed the consteraation of the girls, who seemed fo think that she had been born with a gold spoon in her mouth, because she can eat with them row, despite the number necessary, if she so desires. “How beautifully you have mended it,” cried Nera, as Flaine tossed the repaired glove in her lap. “I never can keep my gloves in presentable shape, some way.” “That is because you do not take them in time: you know the old saying,a stitch—” “O, Elaine, don't, if you love me. Idream about ripped stitches, and they haunt my waking hours. Do be good and give us some practical hints on how to take care of our clothes; I, for one, promise to heed what you say.” “Just the thing, isn’t it, girls?” asked Louise. “We have an hour before the matinee. Proceed, Madame Mentor.” Elaine protested in vain. “Why, girls, I spent over an hour lecturing you last Sat- urday and—” - “And I have been thinking about it all week, and trying to cultivate my soul,” ex- claimed Louise. “And I, and I,” said Mary and bobbie. “Well, it is a comfort to know that the seed did not fall on stony ground,” return- ed Elaine, laughingly. “But I trust that you do not expect me to exhaust the sub- ject in one short hour?" “Indeed, no,” asserted Louise, emphatic- ally. “We will just mark it, ‘continued on next matinee day.’ So Elaine yielded, and six more interested girls never posed be- fore a public speaker. ‘here were seven be- fore the lecture ended, for Rose-in-bloom came back, and I was glad that she did, for Elaine told the girls some extremely practical things. ‘The Abuse of Clothes. “In the first place, girls, it is the abuse of clothes, and not the use of them, that makes them look rusty and tacky before their time. Now about dresses. When you come home from an afternoon of calling you are tired, and you want to get into something ‘easy’ to rest for a few moments before dinner. You go to your closet and pull out your dressing sack, and a dress skirt comes down with it; you pick the skirt up and toss it back. Perhaps it goes on the floor, and, more than likely, it falls in a heap wherever it lands. You step out of the dress you had on, and throw it over a chair, and the bodice, ‘all damp with per- spiration and the body odor, that will cling to every garment that you wear, is flung in a wad on the dressing case. You often leave it there till morning, by which time two more dresses have been added to the pile to be hung up, the one you wore down to dinner and the one you wore out in the evening. Your street dress, which is of heavy material, is creased in long wrinkles across the front, the stiffening is broken, it is full of dust and it smelis badly. Your evening and dinner dresses are in varying stages of mussiness, as you may have tossed them aside. Half a dozen times wearing these three dresses will ruin them for cere- monious occasions, unless you want a man to be saying of you that you are badly ‘groomed.’ If you were careful to clean them properly, and hang them up as they should be hung, they would last you a whole season, and at the end look almost as good as new, if you have selected the mate- rial with care. Now let me tell you how I Was taught to care for my gowns by a French maid that I had when I was abroad. “This woman had been the possessor of handsome clothes herself once, and knew the art of caring for them. She got wire| fra for my gown skirts, just as men have for their coats. When I came home from calling and shopping she took my heavy cloth dress skirt and carefully shook it. Then she brushed all the trimmings, re- moving every particle of dust. If she found that there was the slightest rip in the bind- ing, or a bit of torn trimming, she mended it before the dress was put out of her hands. On each one of the wire frames— and I had one forgeach of my gowns—she hung a pad of viol powder, and when she slipped the dress skirt on the frame the bag hung in the center and kept my dresses delightfully perfumed. For the gowns of delicate colors she made long, wide sacks of muslin, which she slipped over them and and the light. The bodies of my dresses she| brushed and shook, and then hung them on their own frames, where they would air until they were dry; and then she hung them carefully away in a dark part of the closet, pinned in a bag made to fit the frame, with the violet pad in the center; she was careful not to hang anything over the waists or skirts. Each one had a hook to itself. It does not take so much room, as you would think, if you will have a wide shelf put in the closet, high enough from the floor so that your dresses will escape touching when the hooks are adjusted in rows on the underside of the shelf. For my evening dresses and the lighter silks madame got big pasteboard boxes, and put the bodies away in them. The sleeves she always stuffed with paper, to keep them from crushing; in the bottom of the boxes were perfumed pads. Each box was marked with the name of its particular gown bod- ice, and there was never any trouble in finding them. She never put the bodices away until she had examined the necks and sleeves, to see if there was any soil or a stained bit of lace. If there was, the lace was ripped out before putting away and the soiled spots cleaned. The dress shields—by the way, every dress should have these in- dispensable articles—she took out after two or three wearings, and washed them and then put them back. She always left them for an hour or two in the sun after wash- ing. My wraps and parasols, gloves and hats were just aa carefully looked after. “IT had been accustomed to thinking my- self a very careful girl, until I met madame, for my mother was as neat as a pin, and had taught me all she knew. From taking care of my clothes through necessity, I had grown to do it because I liked to have them always fresh. But I didn’t seem to know ‘A’ in madame’s ,economical alphabet. A woman's first duty, so she thought, is to look pretty—‘distingue’ if she can and ‘chic.’ Any girl can look ‘chic’ if she sets her mind to it, so madame says. And she thought that to look ‘chic’ was to be much more de- sired than beauty. I have heard men say | that if the choice lay between a pretty face | and a perfect dresser they preferred the woman who knew how to dress. Points About Shoes. “An article of attire that American wo- men pay small attention to is their shoes. We make the finest and the best shoes in| this country that are worn in the world. | But after a woman gets her shoes she pays | WOMEN’S TABLE TALK The Proper Appointments of a Dining Boom. TOEARN MONEY WHEN THE NEED ARISES Entertaining Suggestions on This Subject From Bright Women. THE MISSION OF A WOMAN Written Exclusively for The Brening Star. ff WAS A LITTLE Eastertide luncheon— only half a dozen friends that had been invited to have a gos- sip together after the six Lenten weeks of active and engross- ing devotions. The early spring weather had a pouty look, but the dining room was glowing with warmth and cheer, A fire crackled merrily on | the wide hearth; the table, of highly pol- ished mahogany, with a richly carved bor- der, was laid without a cloth; and candles, in low, delicate, twisted candelabra, shone gently across the high-bred faces of the Women, In the center of the table was an old-fashioned slender silver vase filled—not too full—with long-stemmed,bending,blushy Teses, and at each cover were masses of dewy violets nestling in antique silver no attention to them until they get too dis- reputable to wear any longer; then she get a new pair. She puts off the dreaded day as long as possible, because ‘breaking’ shoe is such a trial to one’s soul. In the fi place few women understand the ethics of shoe buying. A long, narrow shoe makes | the foot look small.’ A short, wide shoe makes it look deformed. The shapely foot, | the one that the artist and sculptor love to model, is long and thin. If the woman who! goes limping around on bunion-decorat feet that are crowded into number 4 ‘Kk will throw silly pride to the wind and buy 5 1-2 ‘D" she will begin to see some pleasure in life and her feet will assume human pro- portions. It is only in the animal kingdom that the short broad foot is found. Cheap | shoes are not worth carrying home. They are as poorly fashioned as the cheap cus-| tom-made clothes; they are made largely of shoddy leather, and they will not fit, try as | you will. Buy good shoes always, then take care of them after getting them. When a shoe is taken off it should be rubbed with a piece of chamois skin kept for the purpose. Freed of all the dust, it should be left to ary for a short time till all the animal heat 1s out of it; then it should be buttoned up or laced and stuffed with cotton or paper to make it hold its shape. “Some women have lasts just the size of their feet and put the shoes on them to stand them away in the closet. Once or twice a week, after the shoes begin to show signs of wear, rub them well with vaseline and stand away for a day of two. When you go to put them on rub them with the chamois ard they will shine as though they had been blackened. That is all I ever find necessary to do to my shoes. I never put any kind of varnish on them until they are hopelessly gone, and then T can find somebor who wants them worse} than I do. A woman should keep the but-| tons on her shoes, the heels should be straightened as soon as they show signs of | running over, for that will spoil the shape of the shoe, and the tiniest rip should re- ceive immediate attention. A shoe that Is too small v et out of shape very soon, | ds and makes it run over | It will not | wear as_well, | unnatural strain | shoe a dis-| either, bec on the le: grace, b have a h not be use there ts a on it and yet! all the buttons, | nd is not brown from f ly from injudicious black! to tack on the ntinu we have barely time inee before the eu se. “I make it a point to fore the cuctain rises or stay I think it is abominable the w ep here go to the thea at he amet er, pl 4 they simply steal the pleasure of those who | get there early. I call it bad breeding. | I'm in a hb to get home now to put| some of Elaine's, theories into practice.” And they went off to get‘on thei> hats. More than ever I am impressed with the| idea that Elaine is a very sensible sort of a young person. SENORA SARA. eee FALSE CURLS ARE A BOTHER. Miss Prinks, at All Events, Regards Them as a Dreadful Nuisance. “Mamma is surely old enough to have got over the vanities of youth,” said little Miss Prinks to a friend of hers. “But, as a mat- ter of fact, she hasn't. She will insist on wearing false curls, much to my distress, because they do not stay on. “Now, we had a little dinner party at our house the other night, and the first course was hardly over before I perceived that one of mamma's curls was coming off. The curls she wears are the little ring-shaped locks that are stuck in over the temples. They are quite becoming, particularly when they cover a thin spot, and there could be no objection to them if the old lady would only fasten them properly. “One of the curls had got loose, and, still | late napkins, attached to the hairpin that held it, was slowly making its way downward over her cheek, Of course, she is so deaf that I could not speak to her about it, even if I had been near enough. So I waited to catch her eye, and then indicated the trouble by touching my own temple with my finger. Instead of taking the hint quietly, she se- sponded by saying aloud, so as to attract the attention of all of the people present: “‘Why does thee not tell everybody of the fact that thee wears false hair, Mary?’ “It was only my alarm lest the curl was going to fall at any moment into her soup that induced me to venture calling her at- tention to the matter, for I might save known that her indignation would prampt some such remark. “Mamma is extremely sensitive about those curls. Last summer we were at At- lantic City, and, while promenading on the board walk in_ company with two or three other people, I saw one of those dreadful locks begin to come loose. Slowly, but surely, it became detached, but I did not even nudge her. I thou sht it would be bet- ter to wait until it dropped off and then pick it up quietly. Presently it did so, and I put my foot on it. “As I paused suddenly, the others turned around to see what was the matter. I said that I thought I would stop there for a moment to admire the view, while they went ahead. This rather puzzled them, and I don't doubt that they supposed something was the matter with my own garments. But mamma clinched the suspicion by say- fig in a stage whisper: “If thee is losing thy petticoat, Mary, thee had better dodge into that little Japa- rese shop.’ “At this suggestion the man who had been walking with me suddenly started ahead, followed by the others. Feeling much embarrassed, I lingered for about half a minute, in order to get an opportuni- ty to pick up the curl unobserved. How- ever, when I took away my foot, there was nothing beneath it. I had missed it, evi- dently, and it had blown away. “Presently, I overtook the rest of the party. Mamma looked considerably an- noyed. Being so deaf, she did not realize that everybody could hear her when she said, in another stage whisper: “‘Mary, I do not care to go out walking with thee again if thee cannot fasten thy clothes on properly.’ “T had only one consolation. The curl being gone, it would not be possible to appear with an cdd number, and, inasmuch as none could be bought at Atlantic City, in all probability mamma would be obliged to give up her curls for the rest of the sum- mer. What, then, was my dismay when she came down to dinner at the hotel that same evening with a full complement of those ornaments! “It turned out that she bouglit them in strings by the yard—a fact which she had never confided to me—and, even though a dozen or two had blown away, she would still have a supply. But, after the exper- jence of the other evening, you may take my word for it that I will never interfere in the matter again.” —— HORSFORD’S ACID PHOSPHATE, A Brain and Nerve Food, tied at the top. That kept out all the dust For lecturess, teachers, students, clergymen, lawyers and brain workers generally. “coasters,” which, in years gone by, used to hold chubby, heavy cut glass decanters | filled with the good old port, so loved by | Scod old men. The juice of Rhine grapes C\ graced this feast, but its amber light lanced through decanters of fragile Ve- netian glass placed directly upon the table to be reflected in its deep, dark gloss. “Yours is such a dignified table,” was the first remark that greeted the hostess when all had settled comfortably into their places, unfolded the large brocaded choco- with flaxen fringes, and Spread them protectingly over the shimmer- ing silken skirts. “It 1s such a relief from | the conglomeration of lace, ribbons and satin, and from the scrappy embroideries dabbled under every frippery, knicknack dish with which we have been surfeited this winter.” As to Candle Shades. “And you have no candle shades,” sald another guest, opening her eyes to the widest extent in order to display her as- tonished admiration. “I am so tired of those befurbelowed little botherations that lcok so fussy, and are incessantly confia- grating. I have quite given up trying to have anything in the way of a conversa- tion at dinners, The shades are sure to blaze up in the midst of my most eloquent remark, and the interruption of a general Tush to the rescue thrusts all my brilliancy into oblivion.” “And you have only fragrant flowers, said a third appreciative speaker. Scentle: flowers crowded into masses to show a lavish expenditure and match the candle shades, usually greet us at smart dinners and luncheons nowadays. Overdone beef is considered a severe form of gastronomic misery; but, in my opinion, it is far less objectionable than overdone luxury.” “Lam so glad that you enjoy my flowers,” said the chatelaine, beaming under the warmth of this sunny applause. “It has be- come accepted notion that fragrant flowers are out of place in the dining room. The reason given is that the mingling of food smelis with floral odors is not harmon- ious. I cannot, of course, answer for all dining room: put, although the flavors of my kitchen may smeil to heaven, they are not permitted to smell to my dining room. And you are gratitying, too,” she added, turning to her second flatterer, “to forgive me the absence of candle shades, but you really ought to do so, because you alb look so much prettier under the soft, clear wax light than would be possible with yellow, green or red shadows thrown over your faces. Besides, as I am one of the colonial dames and use my old colonial silver it would not be appropriate for me to mar the Sweet colonial simplicity with modern gew- gaws.” The Simplicity That ts Elegance. “But we cannot all be colonial dames and have colonial heirlooms, you know,"’. ex- claimed a very nineteenth century dane, with a grieved air, as she poised in midair the fork that had started on its downward drop to guillotine a fish croquctte. “We can all have the simplicity that is in itself elegance, however,” replied the hostess, quietly. “I hope that remark Coes not sound opinionated and self-satisfied. I mean to say only that, according to my ideas, there is a lot of money thrown away on millinery table decoration, and that the effect produced is oftener tawdry than sat- isfactory.” “Ah, well! If you ever are bereft of home and fortune you have a profession ready for yor remarked the youngest guest, an- swering to the fair name of Margaret. A smile curved sweetly about her mouth, but there was a suggestion of a sad “perhaps” in her earnest eyes. “I do not know of any profession ready for me but the ‘profession of woman,’ and that is sald to be a very hard profession, you know,” the hostess answered, with an Sa seriousness, “I will explain my enigma,” Margaret said, “You might order, decorate and ag perintend the entertainments of your friends—those fortunate ones whose heads remain above the waters of financial de- pression—and save them from converting their dinners into mere wholesale ribbon displays. At the dinner hour you could be sheltered behind a screen, inspect and ar- range each course before it is taken to the table, and so relieve the hostess from all care.” A Confident Hostess. “I will engage you in advance,” laughed the “dear friend” at the foot of the table. “Then I shall be able to come to my own dinner parties with the pleasant anticipa- tion of the invited, and laugh at the pet jokes of my honored guest in the proper place, instead of staring blankly at him through the climax because I am wondering if the pudding sauce will be sent on with the fish, or some like calamity arrive.” “I have thought of ‘professions for wo- men’ with an apprehensive personal inter- est,” said the pretty creature that had in- troduced the serious subject. “In these days of commercial catastrophe, when we are lable to find ourselves suddenly face to face with poverty, it is well in prosperity to tunk ff the possibilities of adversity, and—" “When I am poor,” interrupted Madam Fliippant, speaking as rapidly as she could and at the same time nibbie salted almonds, “I shall retire to a rose-embowered cottage in the country, accompanied by my faithful old black Betty, who will assume all care, protect me from all trouble, and be always ready to sympathize respectfully with the loss of happy days.” “That is all very well in fiction, my dear,” said the hostess, now warmly in- terested. “But in real life, when the crash comes, an occupation is often an immediate necessity. Then the moneyless one finds that the time has past when women might weep while men worked. She realizes that every employment is already crowded with workers; that clever women have become so plentiful they are quite a drug in the market, and, moreover, either from neces- sity or from’ business ambitions, they have cast longing eyes on every occupation that has hitherto been looked upon as man’s ex- clusive domain.” “Then, if 1 am not to have a rose-em- bowered cottage,” responded Madam Flip- pant, rather ruefully, “I think I would try debt-collecting. I doubt if that occupation is extensively pursued by women. Collect- ing small accounts would be a somewhat difficult and trying vocation, but I should be so sweet and persuasive I am sure that even the surliest creditor could not find it in his heart to be rude to me.” “We accept that statement with alacri- ty,” was chorused with musical laughter. Profession of Lamp Doctor. “Since you have given some thought to the subject, Margaret, perhaps you have already chosen your own business career,” came in a mocking voice across the table. “Yes, I have thought of many things, but I should start out in a very modest pro- fession, that of lamp doctor. The care of 1 Jamps requires great delicacy and thor- oughness, and these qualities can hardly expected of the ordinary domestic. Equipped with my little London traveling bag, holding a sponge for the chimneys, plenty of soft, fresh cloths for rubbings, a flask for the ammonia, a dear little box containing soap, another soda, and one of those tourist spirit lamp affairs that go into a marvelously small space, I should make a daily round from house to house. I that is the most important part of a lamp. The average housemaid thinks that wick: may come and wicks may go, but the burn- ers on forever. On the contrary, they should often be rubbed with common salt and strong vinegar, rinsed in soap-suds and Gried; they will then look like new. I should empty the reservoir every eight or ten a sediment accumulates even from the best oil—wash it out with soap- suds containing soda and ammonia, and thoroughly dry it before refilling. I should expect you all to engage my services and regard me as your angel of light.” Sweet Lavender Laundry. “I wish I could give as clear a plan for an emergency,” said the hostess. “I cannot do that, but I can tell you the actual experi- ence of a courageous woman overtaken by a loss of fortune. The heroine of my little story, in searching for a career that would yield a comfortable profit, selected laundry work as a tangible business, which so con- cerns everybody’s daily needs it can hardly fail to reward attention. Therefore, she has renounced society, pleasant surroundings and almost all the elements that decorate existence, and oversees every detail of the laundry herself, showing how thoroughly an educated, capable woman can succeed in what she undertakes, She has named her laundry the ‘Sweet Lavender.’ It is fur- nished with the latest kind of steam boilers and rinsing machines, employs many women and sends out the snowy linen in smart little brown carts drawn by well-groomed, brightly-harnessed horses. Besides the wo- men employed as ironers, menders and fold- ers of the clothes, there are several book- keepers and a superintendent. The duties of the latter are most responsible; but the mistress of the establishment keeps a vig- lant eye on every department, and, with a brightly alert face and dainty figure trimly gowned in lavender cambric, she follows up her success, the secret of which she gives in .this motto: ‘Never leave your business and your business will not leave you.’ She has no false pride hanging heavily ‘upon her energy. Perhaps she remembers Ruskin’s delightful description of what a true lady should be. In fact, it has often comforted me at irritating moments of household ad- ministration. ‘A princess a washerwoman,” he said—‘yes, a washerwoman! To see that all is fair and clean, to wash with water, to cleanse and purify wherever she goes, to set disordered things in orderly array—this is a woman's mission.’ ” As the luncheon dames rose from the table and fluttered away from the fruit and fragrance of the dining room the new brand of lady was the last impression made upon the mental palates. “What a plucky woman!” was one com- ment. “It shows that a lady need not be van- quished by misfortune,” was another. “A ‘brave lady’ need not,” was the last faint echo. “s —_—~—_—_ SEWING CIRCLE GOSSIP. The Ladies Do Not Think Men Reliable in an Emergency. Mrs. Twiggs was quite late at the meeting of the Lenten sewing circle last week—so late that after carefully looking over the piles of dry goods covering the table she could find nothing easier to make than a gingham apron. Having secured this, she made her way, work in hand, to a little group of friends who were occupying a cozy corner, where they put in an occasional stitch as they merrily gossiped. “Dear Mrs. Twiggs,” cried Mrs. Bogs, who was ensconced in an arm chair ever sc many times too big for her, “do come and ing brought against them.’ “What are they saying? the new- comer, “I thought that in Washiagton men were in such demand that no one would venture to malign them.” “I only remarked,” said Mrs. Tubiets, “that men are so selfish that in case of an emergency, as of a fire, for instance, they could usually be counted upon to look out for themselves and leave any women who might be under their protection to their own devices. Gallantry is a virtue imag- ined by old-fashioned poets and writers of romance.” “Do hear her!” cried Mrs. Boge: “What she says is only too true,” said Mrs. Twiggs, gravely, “and I think each of us could tell some experience illustrative of this fact. If you choose I will begin. It was several years ago, when we were sta-| should keep the burner perfectly clean, for = — HOUSEHOLD CHAT Some Timely Advice to Busy Housewives, THE CARE OF CHILDREN Many Things to Do and Some Not to Do. IN THE HOME CIRCLES josmiabaiealeliialion ‘Written Exclusively for The Evening Sten Women who put their ture away with camphor next to them should not wail when they take the “skins” out next fall they find that the color is much lighter than when they put the furs away. phor will make furs ater every time os * When you go to clean house you cannot paper the walls they need it badly, you sho: them with a flannel cloth dusted with fine oatmeal. con work wonders with slices of rather fresh you g 4 i i FE iE if i E i & g walls with it as You can remove Sometimes. One woman walls with a flanaal cloth line. She rubbed the paper moistened cloth, and was Tub off the glazing. If you ful to have no fire in the lighted gas or lamp, * Don't spring, but buy ‘Zon oranges a day, and three ing them with such other find. It will be 4 pleasant If you want your | pert and forward.” tel it, what a smart child aif ik e very é * | i Hy 8& ft 5 § ut I 4 H F E i : i é i 4 offs é i dj . To renovate old feathers, on the grass in the rain = ahora let ary ep wi it every ui the damp feathers will the heat. Do not leave @ moment after the well, for the heat ¢raws feathers and will make . 2 6 The curse of the world is over eating. One-third other two-thirds eat can help it won't. help it can’t. Overeating ty. Adam and Eve are for the first quarrel was over something to _. 8 too much atten’ . g cs H Z Reka 5 § 5 i & 4 i iis sek ge - i i an on —— 7 irop a lump of slowly melt away. oughly. uf often called ltde but it is the fault of the mothers who have about the house little knick-knacs that the smail children can to understand their value, mentoes that look very pretty, but are worth the peace of mind of nor the extra strength of the required to keep them from restless hands. “The don’t touch it room” is name that a three-year-old has given to parlor in her home, in this city, She been punished so often for touching things that make the room look like a curiosity shop that she can’t be induced to enter it She says it will “all break!” *_.* © © @ It must be admitted that Holmes is a very food student of human nature. You can almost hear this truism "7 a young female wears a flat circular side curl gummed on each temple when she walks with a male, not arm in arm, but his arm tioned in Boston, that Capt. Twiggs took | ¥ my younger sister and me to see a base ball game. He invited two gentiemen also to be of the party, remarking that with a man on each side of us and one betw any chance ball that came our easily be caught by one of them. A ball did come our way; it went right through my hat, in fact, nearly taking a buncn of pink roses with it, and hit a man sitting just be- hind me. Did somebody ask what the gen- tlemen were doing? They had all three of them crouched down so low that their heads nearly touched the floor. Of course they apologized profusely, but the next time I saw a game it was from behind the wire screen.” “I was in a horse car once,” said Mrs. Smith, who sat next, “and we were cross- ing some railroad tracks, when a man rushed through from the front platform, shouting, ‘We shali all be killed; the loco- motive is almost on us!’ I had the baby in my arms, having taken her from nurse, and so could scarcely move. There were two other women in the crowded car, all the rest being men. Do you suppose the men helped us out? It never occurred to them. The two women chanced to sit near the door, and they were knock=i down and stepped upon by the gallant creatures; but as the locomotive stopped just vefore bumping Into us we were not killed.” rs. Boggs said, ‘How very strange,” but the sentiment found no echo. “When I was engaged to be married,” said Mrs. Johnson, as she turned up the hem of the sheet she was making, “I went to the theater once with my flance. In the middle of the second act there was an alarm of fire, and a panic burst forth at a moment's notice. I looked around for my companion, but, alas! he had disappeared.” “And yet you married him?” “Indeed, yes; and he has proved a great success as a husband; but I do not go out in sail boats alone with him without a life preserver, and when I go to aay crowded place of amusement nowadays I always sit very near to an exit.” “There was one class of m= in whom I used to place perfect confidence,” sighed Mrs. Tibbs. “They were those magniticent specimens of humanity who stand in police- men’s garb to help one across the crowded | crossings of New York. There was a par- ticularly handsome giant, upon whose b:ay- ery I would have staked my life, an] upon whose arm I leant in perfect confidence, until one dreadful day when four horses suddenly turned and pranced excitedly to-| ward us, Then my policeman ran away, and it was a mere accident I was not killed.” “Dear me, how dreadful!” cried Mrs. Boggs. “I know Mr. Boggs would never behave so badly; but then he has not been married very lon; ———— GETTING COMFORT AT SMALL CosT. Actresses Learn Numerous Vhile on the Road. You have no idea,” said a young actress to a writer for the Nebraska State Journal, “how thankful we are for the mild weather. You know that on the road—I meaa when we travel from city to city—we go to hotels, and the tariff does not include fire. The extra charge for that is high, and an awful tax on a small salary, so we girls are up to all sorts of schemes to save on that ttem, Sometimes we double up; go two in a room and go halves for heat. Sometimes we try to do without fire and catch fearful colds. I have often sat in the warm hotel parlor nearly all day, and as soon as it got dark gone to my room and lighted all the gas burners and took the chill off that way. Often I have, on my way home from the theater, bought a bundle of kindling wood and had it nicely wrapped, and made a nice blaze to eat my little supper and go to bed by. The hotel keepers are very sharp and are up to almost every dodge. If you do order a fire, you must generally ring for | the man every time it needs mending, for he is seldom allowed to leave a scuttle of coal in anybody's room. If it was left, why one could abstract some and save it to start a fire next day, or keep the same in two days, only being charged for the one or- dered. I have, however, kept a fire in two days. Every time the man fixed it I would take off all the coal I could and lock it up in one of the bureau drawers and use it as needed, managing to keep the room fit to live in. It would not have been quite right, but I am a light eater, and I thought that what they saved on food I'd take out in coal. I have carried a smail oil stove late- Tricks ly, and that is a very good idea. What are your git they read at all. poison the young mind is found in impure in sentimental, wishawashy novels. Muscle and nerve and intellect do not de- velop and grow strong when fed upon such matter. It cannot be called Mterature. It is often found that the reason that young girls grow morbid, sentimental and self- | conscious is because of the unhealthy ming | food that neglectful mothers permit them te feed upon, * 2s © we Hang up your brooms if you want to last just as long again. A stands brush down on the floor ally warp the straws. .Turned handle and leaned against ed a a. . It is the cleanest nomical way to bore a hole tl une end of the handle and hang —— _ ‘Well-ventilated bed rooms it _morn- ing headaches and the comneuuent lassi- tude of which 0 many complain on rising. os + oe If the stove pipe seems to be stopped put a piec. of zine on the glowing conla, The vapor f20m the burning zine carries the Soot off liky chemical decomposition. > os. oe At the ma taken with most agonizing situation of the play, when & sneeze whuld have been almost a crime, consequenty she got up and fied to the cor- ridor, fron, whence came the sound of smothered Aneezing, as if to the slow music that was also greeting the sin-betrayed woman on the stage. A desire to sneeze can be stopped'on the instant by pressing the upper ip véry hard with the finger. It ise remedy thal never fails. . Never eat when very tired. It is better to refrain, to go hungry, in fact, than to gulp |down a lot of food when your stomach is too tired to assimilate what you eat. An- other equally good precaution is to rest for ten or fifteen minutes, anyhow, or longer, if possible, after eating. Instinct teaches animals to do this and good sense ought te teach people to do the same, but it doesn’t . It is a pity that Lacy wilt Go wanenee- sary work because their mot mothers did it before them. They should remember that their grandmothers and their mothers did not have as much to do as the women of the present day do. Despite the modern conveniences that seem to make work lighter, the social and public duties that have been added to the burden that ‘women must bear have added to their labors tenfold. 72 © © Our own Mrs. Partington was as wise in her way and as unique as Mrs. Mala- prop. “Ah, many a fair home,” she sare, “has been desiccated by poor cooking, a man’s table has been the rock ahead on which his happiness has split. A hard | rock, too, sometimes, with bread and | you could throw through a stone wall and |not hurt it. If a man’s pious as Beelze- | bub, his stomach can’t stand everything. Variety is the spice of life, and the house tite uught to remember it. It stands to reason that no man wants to sit down to fried steak and fried potatoes for three hundred and sixty-five mornings im the year, with half a hundred suppers of the same dishes, even !f they are gotten vp in appetizing style, which they are not, if he gets them that often, for a good cook would have sense enough to vary her menu. A |man grows to hate eating at home when | he knows to a —_ pepper what he will | get fora given meal, If you are bound to be a pessimist,go off ang be it in a cave along with the hermits, where you cun’t make everybody else feel disagree- able. Holland says that we can’t get any | more cut of life than we put in it. If that is | the case the pessimist isa thief, ®or he not | only does not a4@d anything to the brightness of life, but he actually steals as much from \the brightness of other men’s lives as he can, with his abominable theories, . * Parents have a fearful responsibility that | they cannot shirk. Remember that if chila. hood does not blossom, manhood will bear no fruit. "© © we © If you are not sure that the stuff sold you | as butter is the genuine article, test it your- self. Put some of it on a hot pan and if it , bubbles and boils, but does not sputter, you | can_be sure that it is butter. If it ts olage margarine, it will sputter until melted