Evening Star Newspaper, June 9, 1894, Page 18

Written Exclusively for The Evening Star. JMMER CLOTHES form the all-impor- tant topic of conver- sation among women Just now, and tf you see @ knot of them to- gether in earnest con- feb you may be pret- ty sure that they are relating to each oth- er the woes of having to wait on the slow motions of a dress- maker, who never fin- ishes things when she ‘ises and at the last moment finds that will not be expedient to fashion a gown @s you have planned, or else has spoiled it by the addition of some kind of trimming that is altogether unsuited to your style, or ‘the purpose for which you wanted the dress. Dressmakers are autocratic beyond endur- |@nce sometimes, and some day some wo- fan of courage and daricg is coing to rise ‘up in her might and decla‘e her emancipa- tion from the tyranny of the modern *Mnodiste; then there will be a war, such as the red roses and the white never before ‘Witnessed. It will not be in my day or yours, however, so we will not anticipate. “Anybody con make new dresses to look Pretty, but the true test of skill is to fash- fon a new gown out of an old one and have f fresh and becoming,” said a dear little ome the other day, and then she held _ §B the proof of her truism in the shape of a “ Cream Challie and Ribbon. Yast year’s lawn gown. It was both fresh nd pretty, yt all the materials were old. 2 want to tell some of the mothers how she @ecomplished it. The frock was for a six- ‘teen-year-old girl, who, of course, was only Bften last year, and has grown like an “evil weed.” One says “evil weed” only be- @ause ft is the evil things that grow the fastest. The little mother had two old Gresees to make the new one out of. One @ress was a white linen lawn, that had seen two seasons’ service, and was hopeless for another season. It had three narrow rufiles @f embroidery around the bottom, three ‘wide bands of insertion let in around the Skirt last summer to make it long enough, @nd the waist was composed of puffs of the fawn ‘and lengthwise rows of insertion—a fashion that is in vogue for this season, and & very pretty, indeed. The other dress was ies acne ined tad wie Waee tae, Sx ates Sdout ten threads wile, it was a beautiful piece, had been a rem- Bant, and so had to be made up without a bem, and was, of course, narrow for this Season's styles. It was made plainly, with M@raight breadths, and without ruffies. The blue lawn was ripped in pieces and smooth- ly troned; thon the white lawn was treated the same way. Tho broudihs of blue were Pieced down with tho white before they Were cut into a flve-gored shirt, and the came at the bottom, Then the blue jas torn straight down the middle front, end a bend of the white ombroidery set in; ther band Was set at eae’: of the side masing in all five leng:uwise bands the insertion; it wae « fine pretty pat- Pts and made a lovely e‘fevt on the blue, iter the skirt was sewn up two of the Litae Sammer Vast, ww white rudies af awtiatden a5ea put Bt the both the fon ome heavel by ao arrow bexding of white gimp, which hid je piecing entirely. The skirt was finished with a narrow band of the blue for a belt. The pufal white bodice was muck too waiste?. and too marrow across the so pretty 23 it was it hed to be im part. The sleeves were ripped ut, and the upper part of the waist cut in & pointed yoke. brek and “rout. A piece of the imsertion from the lower part of the Waist was Iet into the acoulter seam to Make ft broader, and th: olf divs waist, With the top cat off. wes set on in gathered beby fashion below the white yoke. The ld blue sleeves were made into 2 rumMe. Quite bra? on the chorlters 274 tenering to & point in frent and at the middle of the Back. set on with & pwer band cf in- Berson thet wee In the horse. The old (white sleeves were of the full kind, and after being picceid down at the under the bine rufffe that fell over them, were Quite as hamisome as ever. The pretty git! who Is to wear It has “eyes as ue as the fairy flex.” and a set of blue ire ribbons to match, which she will Qionr with the fuck, an? also a set of ivory white satin ones. She has beside a lovely New white mull all trimmed in sheerest embroidery, with which she can wear the Bame ribbons. Now do you know that this oung Indy will look Hike a picture in those vo frocks this summer, for they are so Gaintily fashions4, and will “do up” to per- fection, She had her choice of the hand- 6 new white one, er two cheap and after studying over the matter the two old dresses out and evolved herself the style In which she would have the two mbined, thinking to have the two cheap wns also, Her mother told her she could ve two sets of new ribbon for her econo- rst Bry, and the white dress beside. It ts an excellent ilea to let young girls pian their own dresses. They should, of course, be told just how much they can have to on their clothes, a1d be directed by the taste of older persons in the selection and making at firsi, but they soon | get to exercising a taste and economy that is surprising; they like to appear as well | Gressed as possible, and will consider quali- ty and cost with the wisest air imaginable before making the plunge. So many moth- e of dressing their ers make the great mistak Por a Lawn Party. growing girls in costly clothes fasPioned; it ‘Is bad taste, many a girl, and the mother who fostei the ambition of her daughter for fine a Farel is planting victous seed that it mi be impossible to uproot a little later. Yout! needs no embellishments to make it attrac- tive; at least it should not, and if any are found neceserry_ there is something radical- ly wrong somewhere. It is the blase woman of the world who needs diamonds, pearl powder, rouge and rich stuffs to charm the eyes from off her fading charms. One of the finest examples of girlish simplicity may be found in the charming daughters of Vice President Stevenson. They are always exquisitely gowned, yet avold the use of the heavy satins and velvets, jewels and stiff silks that so many young society girls af- fect. They are not above wearing ‘“‘made- over” gowns, either, end select their own materials, and, still better, design their own dresses and wraps. Some of the most gant gowns that Mrs. Stevenson has worn— and she is considered the best gowuad wo- man ir. administration circles—were de- signed by her daughter Julia. Summer dresses run mostly to ribbons. You buy your ribbon, and then, if you have any money left, you buy a dress to wear with it. A pretty “ribboned’ dress is made incidentally, some lace. The challie, which is of the fine French manu- facture which wears like iron and wasines To Hang Ribbon On. ike muslin, is made with a plain flaring un- lined skirt and a bodice gathsred Slightly at the waist @ belt; the sleeves are leg-of-mutton, puffed’on a thin lining. The botiom of the skirt has a row of cream Wash ribbon put on in small Vandykes, and above it, a second row in long Vandykes that reach half way up the length of the skirt. At the top and bottom of each of these Vandykes i# a bow of the ribbon, which can, of course, be taken off when the dress is dene up. There is a pointed but plain arrangement of lace around the neck, and cn the shoulders aré knots of ribbon with four long ends. The belt is a band of ribbon tied in a knot with short ends. The dress is reaily very pretty, and for piazza wear at the seashore or the mountains has great advantages over cotton, for the latter needs to be starched, and will be limp after one wearing; the white wools are much more graceful, and retain their freshness to the ead. A pretty cotton gown can be fashioned out of a soft pink zepayr gingham. The skirt, cut to clear the ground, is trimmed wit four rows of white beading put straight around, and four rews, put on above, siight- ly lifted orf the left side, in simulated over- skirt fashion, where it is embellished with a bow and ends of ribbon. The neck of the bodice is made a little low, and has double rufiles of the gingham with rows of the beading. on the edge, and slightly vandyked om the front. With long white gloves to meet the short puffed sleeves, and a white bat trimmed with pink roses and black vel- vet, this makes an ideal gown for a lawn party. A perfectly lovety gown can be fashioned of lettuce sreea lawn. It will not launder, and don’t let anybody fool you into buying it under such delusion, but it will wear a whole season without. The one I saw had an under slip of pale green cambric with silk rufiies on the bottom. Over this the jawn was worn; it was fine and sheer enough for organdie, but was really lawn. ‘The skirt was plain and full and the bodice had a full back shirred on a lining of the same, while the front was loosely draped, The sleeves were very much puffed, and a good deal of material was wasted in hav- ing thera long enough to come over the ends of the fingers—an abominable style, which threatens to come back again from the same period which produced dresses so long ir. front that one had to hold them up all the time. The neck {s open in decided for an out-door dress, and has a of the lawn. The prettiest feature dress was the rib- bon garniture. It started on th joulders from bows, and was caught in a long end by a bow on each arm; then Lege we to the front of the bodice from the shoulder knots were four rows of the ribbon, caught down the middle front by bows. At the right side of the belt was a bow, and falling from it five ribbons, with graduated ends, caught to the left side by bows. The rib- bon im this instance was cream white moire, with pink rosebuds in it. The hat to wear with it is a light green rough straw, with loops of the rose ribbon, and pink orchids. The new cotton crepons make lovely after. noon gowns for young girls—they are capa- ble of such artistic draping and hang in such soft folds. One that I saw recently had a plain full skirt, made without lining It was the real sky blue, and had a girl with summery eyes inside of it, who just filled to perfection the round-necked bodice made just a little full top and bottom, and the blue ribbon around her healthy weist ought to have been very happy to he so close to such a blithesome creature. These simple crepons cost very little, yet there fs i nothing at ee ee price that makes 2 tier or more gown. ae BELL BALL, THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, JUNE 9, 1894—TWENTY PAGES. FOR COUNTRY WEAR Senora Sara’s Ohat About Children’s Garments for Rural Life. The Outfit a Foolish Mother Pro- ‘poses for the Summer. A SIMPLE, QUIET LIFE Written Exclusively for The Evening Star. OD MADE THE country, man made the town,” is a say- ing so trite that it is not often repeated now, but if there ever is @ season when one does want to give ut- terance to the senti- ment it is when the roses are blooming, and one can stand knee-deep in sweet- breathed clover, and = hear the birds sing- ing in the orchard trees. The man or wo- man who !s so wedded to town life as to find it impossible to leave it for two or three weeks In the early summer loses the best part of the year and the better part of life. It is absolutely necessary for our well-being that we get away from the ar- tificiality of corporation existence once in a while, in order to get acquainted with our- selves. In the supercharged atmosphere of the city, where competition is brisk, amb!- tion a god and business a pastime, we grow so sordid and sour that children won't smile at us, and a dog dreads to cross our path, When things get to that stage the case is serious. 5 Yet we do not realize it until we get away in the country, where the swaying grain and nodding blossoms, the trees and true- hearted country people strike us as a ray of sunshine illumines the stare, putting to shame the sickly gaslight, and bringing out in all its horrid grotesqueness the paint and powder, the tawdry tinsel and faded finery with which we have sought to vell our real identity. The hollow shams drop away from us In the purer ozone, and for a little time at least we stand face to — with self. We do not Itke the introductiot sometimes, but we turn from the encounter better fitted to live, even if the mammon of unrighteousness does encompass us again in a very short time. While there remains to us the impulse to hate the hollow shams behind which we hide, and the hope that the day will come when we can break the fetters of bondage that are firmer than any chain that ever held a slave, there is yet left in us a spark of the divine, and life has a future. Joy of Innocent Pleasure, It is not until we fear to hold the mirror up to nature, and weld our chains with our cwn sullen purpose and selfish alms, that the gco2 angel flies up aloft and leaves us to destroy ourselves with our own latent dynamite. A great many accomplish this self-destruction with neatness and dispatch. and a study of their lives will show that they disdained all pastimes and all pleas- ure except, perhaps, that which was fouled with poison, and satiated their souls with dry husks of burned-out health and hope, in a vain endeavor to convince themselves that it was all of lfe to live,.and to die is “but a sleep and a forgetting.” To peo- ple of this @:aracter there are no joyous anticlpations when— “e * * Golden lites in the garden gleam, And roses blow, and orioles build and sing, And sparkles flash upon the brimming stream, And butterfiles go by on yellow wing, And fireflies shine, and brighter than the te os @ Stars and moons, and nigh 3 and everything.” Eran asa I wonder what is was that start: me off on such a tack? O, I centeneraiaen I thought there was some method in my madness, though Dorothy often insists that I have no method in anything. We, Flaine, Dorothy and I, have been down in the country. Just a hasty flitting of a few days, and I was telling a man about the Intense pleasure we experienced while we were guests in the quaint old Virginia farm house that had a youth contempora- neous with that ef Washington. It was @elictous to go out under the dew-washed trees in the morning and waik for an hour smong the roses and old-fashioned flowers, with the resinous odor of the cedars float: ing down from the hills and the linden bio: soms and grapevines struggling with. each other to sweeten the alr eady heavy with honeysuckle and rose fragrance. Even Forgot Their Dresses. There was ne’ @ sound from man's world to break the solemn stiliIness—only the clear notes of song birds and the happy voices of the girls as they filtted from flower to flower through the wet grass, de- Ughted with nature’s lavishness in dec- oration, and utterly oblivious to the dissi- pation of the starch in their morning dre! es. In brushing my face with a great clus- ter of blush roses the dew from their pink hearts splashed over me, and I reminded the girls that an old-time remedy for freck- les and sallow skin was a bath tn rose dew. Then there was a great scramble to find the roses with the deepest cups for “wash basins.” We were all in a fine state of dampness when the bell hastened our return to the matutinal meal In \the long low-cellinged room with a big fireplace on one side, in which was a merry blaze—the very same fireplace by which Lord Fatr- fax used to toast his shins and drink to the fair women of the olf dominion, and plan for the brilliant career of his young friend, Ceorge Washington, gent. It was little that we cared for damp feet or skirts til our ravenous appetites were satisfied, and by that time the gentle heat had dried us off and we were ready for another at- tack on the rose garden. Well, I was relating to this horrid man some of the pleasures of that delightful visit, when he scoffed at me! Actually serted that he doubted the sanity of any one who, having enjeyed the comforts and luxuries of a scientifically perfect city home, could go back to the primitive con- ditions inevitably surrounding rural life and enjoy them! “Maudlin sentiment, breeding rheuma- tism and catarrh!" he declared. “Live in a house minus hot and cold water and a shower bath? Nonsense! Exist where electric light, lifts and telephones are lack- irg? Utter folly to mention it! Spend a month where the morning paper bears the jate of the previous day, letters get stale and a_telegram creates consternation? Ugh! Enjoy life away from the club, the races, base ball and—” Oh, well, {t isn’t any use to quote this individual fur- ther. It is plain to be seen that is not a man whom anybody would care to culti- vate. His soul has shriveled till it must rattle around in his big body lke a bullet in a Sase drum. His ledger is his Bible, his god is money, his heaven the club; his friends distrust him, pis wife fears ‘him, his children hate him, and when he die¢ we will cover him deep with roses and bury him deeper under the grass he de- tests, as an expression of gratitude and re- lief that he has rid the earth of his pesti- lential presence. Her Husband Was Cross. I went directly from a talk with this parody on a man to call on a friend whom I Knew was about ready to leave the city for the country. When I went in, with the privilege of an old friend, I found Anna piled in a heap on the couch in the morn- ing room, crying her eyes out. It didn't take me long to discover that there had been a small family quarrel, and it had been about the trip to the country! I im- mediately set it down against Anna’s hus- band that here was another brute of a man who was wedded to city life and was ob- jecting to the prospective country visit, “and the primitive conditions of rural life.” 1 was mistaken, and feel as though a pub- lic apology was due John, whom I was ma- ligning in my mind. It was Anna who was at fault. “I don’t believe that I will ever try to spend another summer in the country,” she said as she struggled up and mopped her face. “I have been working myseif nearly to death for the last two months to get ready to go. I am nervous, frritable and run down, and it will take the whole sum- mer to get over !t. And—then—thi—this aor—morning John was cr—cross to—to me for the first time in our married life. He—Oh, Sara! he actually swore, and went off without kissing me." And down went the head among the sofa pillows and an- other flood of tears was sweeping over her. I let her cry. Crying is one of the best es- cape valves in the world. People who can ery never go crazy. Tears are blessed balm to sore hearts, and the eyes that bd shed them are sorrowful ones in- eed. When I got to the bottom ef the trouble I didn’t blame John cne bit for swearing. Tn fact, I think he put it off too long. John and Anna are two delightful people, well matched and perfectly mated. They have a fair income, but have also four stair- step hi to fortune, and a young sis- ter of John’s, a girl of twelve, to rear. Anna is ambitious, and that leads her to be infudicious. She is proud of her small family, and has a right to be, for they are @ bright, well-trained lot of children; full of life and healthy as young pigs. Slave to the Needle. Anna likes to see them dressed like dolls, and she cannot afford a sewing woman all the time, so she makes the children’s clothes herself. Right here comes out An- na’s weak point, and one that is found in too many women. She is determined that her children shall look as wel) dressed as the children of their two-times millionaire neighbor. It was on this rock that she and John had wrecked the day’s happiness that morning. John insisted from the tirst that the country trip should be for pleasure only, and no preparation need be made for it, and until Anna discovered that the neighbor was going to the cottage near their own, all was smooth sailing; that Put a new face on affairs, however. So Anna set to work to prepare a wardrobe befitting her young hopefuls’ “position in life.” John did not mind the expenditure of money, but the sight of his wife making @ machine of herself exasperated him, yet she would not listen to reason. I went up to the sewing room with Anna, and, as I looked around, I thought, “Oh, folly, thy aged rame {s woman—sometime: There are two little boys, twins, five, and one girl of seven, the oldest being nine, then the twelve-year-old sister. For those young twin vandals Anna had made seven white kilt suits each! They had each three white duck saflor suits, and one blue cloth Fauntleroy, one black velvet zouave, all trimmed with gold braid, and one—only one—sensible suit of dark cheviot kilts each. Thirteen suits of clothes each for two small boys, to say nothing of the underclothing, stockings, shoes and waists that had to be furnished to go with them! The two little girls had fourteen white dresses each, all tucks, embroidery, ruffles and puffs, nearly every bit of it hand work, for Anna is an exquisite seamstress, and besides those thin frocks there were seven others of silk, fine white wool and French gingham, Seven each, mind you, and four- teen pairs of fine drawers with waists, and fourteen fine skirts. For the sister there was a trousseau fit for a bride, nearly everything white, and not a rag of sensible clothing for the whole five of them. On-a table, stacked up like cord wood, was @ ile of white aprons, just as they had come rom the laundry; fifty-six ‘altogether! Fourteen for each of them, and each trim- med with lace and embroidery that will tear to ribbons the first time the turkey gobbler frightens one of them into climbing @ rail fence, or another tries to creep under @ barbed wire. ‘Then He Got Mad, ‘For herself Anna had prepared a lot of white house dresses, light lawns and frail lace-trimmed gowns, and besides those white skirts by the dozen and underclothes in proportion. The pile of linen was simply appalling! Now, I submit that if a man ever has a right to swear—which, of course, he hesn’t—John had a right to swear over the folly of getting ready for a pleasure trip by preparing a wardrobe that would bankrupt a Vanderbilt to care for it. He had protested all along, and when his usu- ally cheery wife got up with a headache from sitting up too late finishing off a smal) weak eyes from doing too much work, and frazzled temper from over-strain of all Kinds, he simply flew all to pieces, and said that women were ali a “lot of darned idiots, anyhow, and he be- lieved he had married the biggest one.” ‘That feeling wore off by night, I have an idea, and by this time Anna, John and the five young Johns and Annas are domiciled in the quiet country house where they were going, and the stock of white apparel is be- ing rapidly prepared for the wash tub, while Anna's frugal soul is harrowed to ribbons a dozen times a day by unseemly grass stains, abnormal rents, and terrifying fruit stains on those immaculate clothes over which she nearly worked herself into a decline. When I left her after my call she was still in- sisting that she would never go to the country another summer, as it did not v I should think not, at that rate. Now, why will women be such fools? I am not now talking of society women wko have nothing else to do but to eat and sleep and dress, but of the tired mothers who have little ones whose one glimpse of nature is obtained in the short summer visit in the country. The child whose whole life ts spent in the city grows up Ike a hot house flower, and there ts always about it an air of artilictality. It cannot get pure and strong, when the only dir it breathes is first heated on dusty asphalt pavements, and it cannot be as bright mentally as it ought to be if all its ideas of life are com- passed by brick walls and “keep off the grass” signs. What it ought to have is communion with nature, so that it may gain the— “Knowledge never learned in schools, Of the wild bee's morning chase, Of the wild flower’s time and place, Flight of fowl and habitude Of the tenants of the wood; How the tortoise bears his shell, How the woodchuck digs his cell, And the ground mole sinks his well; How the robin feeds her young, How the oriole’s nest is hung; Where the whitest lilies blow, Where the freshest berries grow, Where the ground nut trails its vine, Where the wood grape’s clusters shine; Of the black was is way, Mason of his walls of cla: And the architectural plans Of gray hornet artisans.” It is cruel to deny children the one chance to broaden their minds and strengthen their understanding that they get in the brief weeks of summer outing, but it ts worse than that to hamper them by cloth- ing unsuitable for country pleasures. Leave the dainty white dresses at home, ready to transform them into mannikins when you get back, if your idea of duty to your prog- eny is to make them absolute slaves to dress, but do let them have one month of comfort out of the twelve. Sensible Country Clothes, When you begin preparations for the country, hunt out all the old clothes you can find, and if anything new ts needed, let the material be strong dark goods, war- ranted to stand slides down hay mows, and riding on the reaper, tumbles in the fish pond, long hours of mud-ple baking in the sand bank, tramps through the swamps for rare grasses, and scrambles through the briars for ber let the vacation be a pleasure trip and not a perpetual dres parade. It frets you to a state of uncon- trollable irritation to make beds, dust, sweep, sew, Wa h dishes, or bend over your desk in a dress that dust gets into, but never out; that Knt can hardly be picked off; that water spots, grease ruins and straining pulls out of shape. So why not be sensible for once in your lives, and take to the country with you only such apparel as will mark you a woman of quiet taste, above display, and not smacking of ex- travagance, and that worrying over will rot spoil all the pleasure of the outing. Then you can go with your happy little ones on long tramps, picnics and berrying expeditions, and be to them a mentor, as well as mother, teaching them the secrets of nature, giving them things to think of all the long year till they can go again to the enchanted spot. When you go to the country don’t t-y to take the city with you; leave behing you everything which emacks of high-pressure living. Eat country food, wear clothes suited to country life, think country thoughts, lead country lives. You will be a thousand per cent better for it when you come back to take up the humdrum tread- fnill of existerce in the city again. If you expect to do this, however, you will have to be careful in your choice of country re- treats; select one that is far removed from the path of fashionable society, in a quiet country house where comfort is more to the inmates than style, and you will re- ceive kinder treatment, cleaner,more whole- some food, and greater benefits in every way. The cost will be proportionately smaller than if you went to the fashionable resorts, where the folly of dressing is so ridiculously rampant that women often have to return to the city to rest for a few days, so as to be able to go on with the farce. It is simply pitiable to see the attempts that city women make to astonish the “natives” with their fll-chosen finery, both on themselves and their children. If my brain only measured thirty cubic inches I wouldn’t advertise the fact; I'd rather leave people to find it out for themselves. SENORA SARA, A Neglectful Citizen. From the New York Weekly. . South American Wife (early moraing)— “Hark! Hear the cannon and the rattle of musketry, the clash of swords and the yel!s! Listen!” Husband—“Meo Gracia! electiow day, and I forgot to register.” This must be|is partic SOME HELPFOL HINTS POR MOTHERS Dress Reform Principles as Applied to the Children. GARMENTS FOR SUMMER Written Exclusively for The Evening Star. HE YOUNGER POR- tion of our American populace has been so woefully neglected of fate by the fashion writers that I am go- ing to devote an en- “article” to belong- tire warm weather has come, it may be well to re- mind young mothers that a fine, light quality of woolen vest should be worn by | their babies during the summer. It is an almost infallible preventive of many child- ish complaints, which, without being actual ly dangerous, worry and irritate the child, besides keeping the mother in a constant State of uneasiness. In addition to the lit- tle shirt, which should be of knitted silk and wool, an under petticoat of fine white fan- nel is necessary. The other undergarments should be of muslin, ght in weight and scant in quantity. All the garments must hang from the shoulders, the little skirts and drawers be- ing buttoned to a low-necked, sleeveless body. The winsome mite of humanity is then ready for any pretty gown the wise young mother may choose to put on it; and here are some suggestions which may assist her in making up the most interesting of ward- Tobes. The first picture shows a dainty yet sen- sible little ry-lay dress of pale pink percale, with a tiny white figure scattered over it at irregular intervals. The waist is laid in very scant pieats, and is confined about the body just under the arms by a belt of white corded duck. To this belt is sewed the cunning little ruffle which gives a@ stylish appearance of “being finished,” and from under this ruffle and also attach- ed to the belt is the full dress skirt. The large sailor collar is also of white duck, and the silk tie, which almost conceals the entire dress front, borrows the same dainty coloring which is seen in the dress. Of course, the sleeves are very large, and are gathered into a band at the wrist. In length the skirt barely escapes the ground. The pattern is suitable for both girls and boys, but was especially designed for very young gentlemen. The next sketch is a charming little dress for a young lady of two and a half or three years. The material is India muslin, with rufflings of fine lawn embroidery. The baby waist is attached to the full skirt with VERY LITTLE FOLKS Pretty Gowns for Mites of Hu- manity. or of dimity, with trimmings of the same material. Number four is developed in pale blue prong “gre gampe of India muslin. .A Plain, very short-waisted, low-necked and sleeveless body is made, after which the wide shoulder frill is sewed into place, and the full skirt attached to the body. Should @ more elaborate effect be desired, mod- erately wide sash ends of the dress mate- rial may be tacked to the little waist, just under the arms, and then tied in big bows, the ends from which should reach the hem of the skirt. No more suitable gown than this can be found for an every-day home dress; and the mother who provides her little toddler with a number of them (which, of course, will in- clude two or three dark ginghams) will show her wisdom, and at the same time have the pleasure of seeing her friends and neighbors following her example. ‘The next little man is very becomingly ind stylishly equipped for the journey which will land him on the sandy shores for which he is doubtless yearning. The original coat was almost too elaborate to form a safe model for those who do not poc- sess an unlimited amount of “the mighty dollar.” Nevertheless, it is very charming and well worth describing. The materia) was the daintiest shade of fawn-colored cashmere, with linings ef white silk. The pattern is very simple, gnd one which would develop well in almost any of the light cloakings or dress stuffs. The body is made in a deep yoke, to which is sewed in very scant foids the skirt. Another yoke is then made, this time a round one, to which are aitached the two deep rutiles which form the cape, The sleeves are very large, in order to accommodate the big puffs inside of them. The cute little hat is a broad-rimmed, low-crowned affair in white straw, with a ruching of lace all around the crown, and two big rosettes of white lawn on each side just above the ears, from which are long white ties, to be arranged in demurely Precise bows just under the chin. The sixth drawing shows a costume in which embroidery forms an important fea- ture. The bodice is merely a deep yoke,with haped pieces or bands of India muslin coming from the shoulders to the center of the yoke; the rest of the costume is a full skirt falling in straight folds from the yoke, two rows of insertion trim the lower part and full epaulettes of muslin fall over the sleeves. The design is simple, but the effect is extremely picturesque Last, but by no means least, is a trim and comfortable girl's wrap, just the thing for chilly days and damp evenings. As usual, it is made with a yoke, in this instance it is pointed, outlined by a shoulder frill of the material, lined with some pretty con- trasting silk. The skirt is full and is sewed quite plainly to the yoke. The sleeves ire large and hang well over the deep cuffs, which should extend from the wrist al- most to the elbow. Light-weight ladies’ cloth is a good material to use and the dark colors are preferable. All the children’s coats have full skirts this year attached to the waists: sometimes under broad velvet girdles or bands around the body. They are usually double breasted and made of smooth finished cloth. Almost every coat has one, two, three and some times four capes, which impart a stylish air. Little boys still flourish in kilted skirts, until they arrive at an age to don the trousers. These skirts are worn with mus- lin blouses, frilled with lace. The babies, of course, wear only white muslin slips. Heavy embroidery ts not used, hemstitching and tucks being more in vogue; fine drawn work is also much used. The most fashionable cloaks are tuade of white cashmere or bengaline, in a long loose sacque, reaching the bottom of the dress, with two or more capes of various lengths above. It is nothing un- three deep rows of shirring, through which | Usual to see children’s cloaks intended for are run the tapes which hold the fullness | use on the mountains, or at the seashore, in broad big loops. The sleeves are almost as big as the baby, and the ruffies which decorate neck and skirt are correspondingly full. The third sketch illustrates another pret- ty costume, somewhat more elaborate than the one just described. The material is organdie, in almost invisible pin stripes of violet and white. The bodice has the popular blouse effect, with a square opening at the files of the very fiimsiest (perhaps “delicate” would be a better word) lace I have ever seen. The sleeves are large and full and mate to reach midway between elbow and wrist. A piece of rubber banding was placed in the shirred wristband, and the sleeves then pushed up almost to the shoul. ders. The sash is of valest violet motre rihhon about three inches wide, and long enough for both bows and streamers to e eioe of ihe Skit Lue pattern ly dainty and stylish in white Jawn or muslin, with ruflies of embroider? ace. To the side seams are sewed | Of white bengaline, trimmed with lace and streamers, which tie at the oack in | €dged with soft otter or beaver fur, B. Vv. K. —-—-——_ Born for Better Things. From Trath. A weary soul am TI today, My living I would eara ‘by writing; But of what earthly use, I pray, Is all my weartsome inditing? A Camirides graduate, viz; 1. a, thoacht success meant jost the trying, But brains are but the surest way, but the quickest means of dying. ‘The magazines and dailies too, pressed entire appreciation At everything I chose to do, And praised my sterling education; But then, alas, they added: “You Are not adapted for our journal, Not quite suiliciently, we rue, Diliterate for our sheets diurnal” Ber = ae verses Dow, » Woe is me, I have di ‘To dreaded fate I had to rags And all my cherished bopes enfied. try lines as these, I cm ‘ach Pleasure heeds ‘em, wonder how Buch editor with The deuce, " Good Clothes and Invalids. From the New York Times, “One of the things that helped my re- covery,” said a woman recently, who has just regained her health after a serious il! ness, “was a pretty bed jacket which my sister brought me one day in lieu of jellies and fruit. It was becoming, and I enjoyed it. ‘The doctor, when he first saw me in it, throat, around which are sewed two full ruf- | said I looked 20 per cent better than the day before; man like, he didn’t appreciate conse- the reason, and my spirits, and, quently, my condition, bettered tion. Too often invalids are any olf thing that ts handy. iaughing once when a frien health showed me a dainty lace-trimmed |sick gown, ‘for me,’ she explained, ‘if I jever need it.’ ‘The notion struck me as ab surd, when she was never ill, but after my experience with that bed jacket I appre. ciate better the value of attractive environ. ment under depressing circumstances,” HOUSEHOLD HINTS —- oe Some Things That Mothers Ought to Know, © SUGGESTIONS FOR THE HOME The Family Medicine Bag for Use in the Country, CARING FOR CHILDREN > ‘Written Exclusively for The Evening @tar. it ash to be used as a Gisinfectant. should have quinine pilis , is a valuable drink and has power to destroy crobes—even the scent killing Steeped and taken freely just 7. 8 i Ft a A mess that our grandmothers reat deal of faith in as a and complexion tonic does not taste 88 bad as it sounds: Take a glass leans molasses—the old-fashioned and stir into it common mass is ee to mani, & spoon. ea night for a weck,and then then take again, un: four weeks. Use a sil tarnish badly, but can Now, remember and not Spoon in it, or a tin one either, i i i g 9 f i gE g af i i i i iz i i i: é E i I lil fifi | abscesses, th: losis and the human form of mouth diseases. He gives a bacteria that have been i t the hast ii bileches ellie i i | ef i E be sponge and trim it fectly round when sprinkle with grass i i i t i With the to} appear an turnip, covering hole in it tato inserted in a in the sun will sprout loveliest kind of { ‘ 2 iil 3e98 E f i f i eff make their children perfect by sending them tc play on he is a nuisance, or by treating him as a young vandal If your matting has wet the spot with alcol white cactile soap and let minutes; take a and a perfectly spot thoroughly, and then water, Sometimes an a) line will take the spots the fluid and be to light in the room. “ef ee A lady told me recently when puts her woolen clothes away for win’ she puts them in paper sacks, of which bad quantities which she saved @uring the winter from the packages that came into the house. She puts each garment by itself in a paper bag, first cleansing the article thoroughly. She drops two or three moth balls in each bag, marks the name of the garment and its the garment fn, pastes the gether with flour paste, close the opening perf: 4 bag ts dry puts it away in perfectly sure that nothing it till she opens it. If she happens the bag et any time di the while moving things about, puts the things in e new piece of paper over the tear. moths never trouble her at can be purchased for a not saved them, ana os It is said that Jumps scattered in: moths from the hammer: i 38 i z i iT i oak H ghee ges { k 8 a°S a beee i ite! } i £ ‘| > If the woman who never can keep ant will remember that Say isa or a woman and treat them a they will appreciate the treatment and she will find things move more smoothly. Never be afraid to say to @ servant “I was in error.” You will Giscover that it raises you in their estimation. Servants are only flesh and blood after, all. re is not much of an ert In the consen and if mothers would learn to do so they would save themselves much needless expense and worry. “he perfectiy healthy tongue is clean, moist, Kes loosely in the mouth, is round at the edge and has no prominent papllgie. The éry tongue occurs most frequently in fever and indicates nerv- ous prostration or 4epression. A white tongue usually merns simply « feverish condition, with peraeps a sour stomach. When it is moist and yellowish brown it shows disordered Aizestion. Dry and brown, indicates a low state of the system, posse biy typhoid. When the tongue is dry and red and smooth, look out for inflammation, gastric or intestinal. When the pappillae on the end of the tongue are raised end very red we call It strawberry tongue, and that means scarlet fever. A sharp, pointed, red tongue will bint of brain trritation or inflammation, and « yellow coating indi- cates liver derangement. ——— Dispatches From Admire? Walker. Oficial reports have been received at the Navy Department from Admiral John G. bearing dete of May 24. They relate entirely to routine matters, and do not touch upon the political situa. tion, nor do they refer to the Pearl Harber stallion project,