Evening Star Newspaper, June 23, 1894, Page 18

418 THE HOW TO LOOK COOL) #uc2 sec te ttt ust." e| PICNIC DELIGHTS Fabrics for Hot Weather That Suit the Temperature, THE IDEAL DRESS FOR SOMMER A Summer Girl’s Hammock and Its Expensive Fittings. ECCENTRIC AND ERRATIC ‘Writes Exclusively for The Evening Star. NYTHING new for weddings is hailed with delight. One of the unique ones came off near New York recently, which was cajled a “clover” wedding. It took place in the little country church near the bride’s country home, where she had learned her first Bible Jessons. The quests from the city, only a few miles distant were met at the ratlroad station and were carried to the lovely home fm clover-decorated hay ricks fitted up for for the occasion. The church ‘was decorated with clover blossoms, and the wedding carol, written especially for the beautiful bride, wag sung by a dozen young girls, to which’ melody the party approached the altar instead of the hackneyed wedding march. After the cere- mony there was dancing on the lawn, and while the merriment was at its height the Bride and groom quietly slipped away in a carriage to some spot of their own select- Ing, where they wil! spend the honeymoon. One of the other unique features of this ‘wedding, which was quite a swell one, after all, was the bride's bouquet. It was of Dride roses, and was made of six small bou- quets, each perfect in itself and tied with fong satin ribbons. When the ceremony was over the six bouquets were given to the six bridesmaids, the lucky one among ‘whom would find in hers a dainty gold Fing, which is supposed to be a sure fore- runner of another speedy marriage. By the way, the ideal bridal bouquet is com- posed of white orchids and white lilacs. The way in which shades of color get their mames is somewhat amusing. Isabel red, ‘which was once a favorite color, got its name from the shocking uncleanliness of the Queen of Spain, who vowed not to change her linen urtil victory perched upon her banners, and the bird was nearly two Wears in perching. The story must be true, Dotted M for it is stated as an historical fact, but the linen of old Spain must have been of a stronger quality than is made now. It is a ‘wonder that some enterprising shop does Mot advertise “Ruth blue,” and “Esther pink.” a3 those are the favorite colors for the White House children. The baby's belongings are all tied with pink ribbons, and its carriage slats are run with that color; a great big pink bow ts fastened to one corner of the cab afghan, and the small cloak sleeves are tied to the wrists with pink. Ruth wears blue in the same manner. ‘The Very Newest Shade. ‘The newest shade is “isigny,” and means ust plain butter color. Not the abomina- tion that is sold in the markets and called “pure country butter,” made of tallow and colored with annato, but the rich grass- yellow butter that is made in the country in France tributary to the town of Isigny. This shade of yellow ts becoming to almost anybody, particularly those with rather dark skins, and when made up in sheer lawn, with a trimming of misty lace, is simply ravishing. A word right here about colors for summer. If you want to make believe that you are cool when in fact you are boiling, wear sea green, or the darker shac approaching apple green. Green is simply hideous oa a person with @ sallow but the instant taat same skin takes on a shade of pink the green will transform her into a creature of beauty. The light shades of green in lawns and summer silks make the coolest looking dress that can be worn. ‘A pin check green and white silk, for in- tance, is just about as pretty a silk as a girl could have. Blue ts also kind to a pink face. The Person who could not wear blue in winter €an wear it in summer and look well in it. Possibly because of the materials; most People look well in thin, misty materials, Such as all should seek to wear in summer. But when it comes to making the same colors up in thick materials there is a sure though undefinable change. I don't know n explain it; I am very A color to be chary cf A pronounced brunette i; but the woman who wear re ts blow: sy rudd it w “boiled” retty on the coun- amy white and sky pu have to walk a er asphalt and essay i make her lobster. let parasol, you are every other step with will “have sun- ¢ cooled off pretty that is not pleasant, now that it ts true. Hot Weather Colors, Pink is a v bad color for warm ‘weather. It heightens the color in your face, and some way, both pink and red attract heat and licht and tire the eye. Gray, with a dash of blue in it, and even @ touch of pink, !s cool appearing. With Green it is deliciously restful. Thin white is really the thing to be worn in summer, But you must keep it as clear as the shell an ick white, like duck, pique and un- leached linen, should be worn by only those who have matchless complexions. They are all costly, because they do not take kindly to careless laundering, and one wearing will generally fit them for the wash tub. If they are made too blue in the rinse water they look muddy; if they are not blue enough they look half washed, and if they are ironed out of shape—ugh! The ideal summer dress—one that will stand all sorts of bad washing, poor iron- ing and yet come out looking cool, is an India linen. It may or may not héve a self-stripe or dot in it, and it may or may not have a colored stripe or dot in it, just as you like. Under any guise it is simply India linen, has been worn for a hundred years and will be worn for another hun- dred. Being old fashioned, it is usually simply made, with a plain full skirt and ruffies of self or embroidery and has the full belted waist, with @ little effort at relievi: its _plainness by using lace or embroidery. It is always a restful-looking because it {s so plainly made. Sum- mer dresses should tick be elaborate, for they tire the eye and suggest time to make and worry to take care of them. Embroidery is more popular now than ever before. Not only does it trim mull, silk and wool, but it forms whole dresses. The skirts are made of deep flouncing— what is called the “all-over” embroidery, which has no scollop at the bottom, but is bound with ribbon. The fancy is odd and not to be commended, as the ribbon will draw when the gown is washed. By the way, you must say “frock” now if you would be known as one of the “ton.” Gown is obsolete among the select, but fortunately there are a few sensible people left yet who will call a spade a spade. Hammocks and Summer Girls. Hammocks get more fashionable every year. People seem to be just finding out what really comfortable things they are. For an invalid who must spend half or two-thirds of the time in bed, a hammock is @ positive boon. It may be hung just over the bed or low and close to the tnvalid’s chair, with the sides well stretched, so that it will not be a bit of trouble to get in it, and it accommodates itself to one’s bones im such an obliging manner that, once ac- customed to it, notody wants to give it up. And for the summer girl! Why, she would be as much out of her element with- out her hammock as a Fourth of July without fireworks. The up to date is a thing of beauty. It is now the fad for the summer girl to knit her own hammock. For that purpose there are “hanks” of silk on sale in the shops, and she is expected to select the colors to suit her complexion. Then there are har-mock afghans, made of soft silks, and hammock pillows and cush- ions galore. In fact, a summer girl's ham- mock is a very expensive thing when it !s fitted up in proper shape; but then every- thing about the summer girl is expensive, herself not excepted. A pretty embroidered muslin is of the Popular isigny yellew, which, as I ex- plained, ts simply butter color; the skirt is made straight and full of the muslin, which is dotted with blue. The bodice is of the solid embroidery made blouse fash- fon, with ruffied revers of the embroidery over the shoulders, fastened back and front with rosettes of blue ribbon. The sleeves are made of the embroidery, with blue silk cuffs reaching to the elbow, and a crush belt of the blue silk. Outdoor Affairs. Blue mohair is one of the popular fabrics just now, and an elegant going- away gown for a bride was made of the material. The plain, rather short skirt had but little fullness at the top, and was trim- ted with a sigzag shirring of blue ribbon around the bottom and around the pointed shoulder cape and peplum. The waist was fenie Frock. a moderately tight blouse, belted with blue fastened by a silver buckle. The sleeves were exaggerated leg-of-mutton, and the collar was a band of ribbon fastened in front by a long silver buckle. The capote matched the gown in color, though it was of straw, and was trimmed with isigny lace and grass pompon. A lovely summer frock for dressy outdoor affairs is made of cream grenadine, dotted with green. The underskirt is lettuce- green silk. The grenadine is knife plaited and {s adjusted to a pointed apron front of cream crepon. The bodice is of the grena- dine over a tight foundation of green silk, and the sleeves are puffed over the same. An odd pointed unlined jacket of the cream crepon is worn with a big bow of the cre- pon at the throat. The picture hat to wear with such a gown is of white chip, with a) mass of black feathers drooping over the brim. A pretty pienie frock is made of pale blue sitk gingham, the two ruffles on the skirt headed by five rows of white gimp. The blouse waist is made of rows of white mull embroidery and gimp trimmed bands of the gingham. It makes a singularly effective costume that can be laundered, for the skirt has no lining. Sleeves are just now the most eccentric and erratic part of a woman's dr: ‘They | show the craziest vagaries tmaginable, and seem to get larger all the time. They are formed of rows on rows of ruffles and lace, puffs that hang over, and puffs that are caught up. They are puffed and shirred and puffed and caught up h ribbons, but whatever they are they are puffed. cometimes they are pretty, but more often, because they are worn by the wrong people, y are ugly. It re- quires four yards of 22-inch material to make the plainest kind of a sleeve that is worn now, and most modistes demand five yards, and then send back for more. BELL BALL. ———__+e-+____ Reason Enough. Patrick and Michael were talking over the | grim subject of autopsies, and Michael sai “An sure it’s mesilf that would never per- mit the murtherin docthers to make their ahtapsy wid me.” “Fhwat wud ye do, Mike?” said Pat. “It wud be nicissary for the spalpeens to walk over me dead body first.” “Indade, an why mightn't they do that, Mike? It’s a simple moind ye have, me b'y.. Now, for me own part, whin I'm dead I'll have an ahtapsy, sure.” ‘An why will ye have it, Pat?” Young People Enjoy These Outings and Chaperones Pretend to. SENORA SARA AT MOUNT VERNON All Chip in and Furnish a Bill of Fare. SOME WASHINGTON MYTHS Written Exclusively for The Evening Star. H, SARA,WE HAVE a perfectly splendid idea.” I was deep in my accounts, and I didn't want to hear, any- how, so I bent a lit- tle lower over my desk and went on adding a column of figures, trying to seem perfectly oblivi- ous to Dorothy's de- lighted voice, and the clatter of six pairs of boot heels coming over the veranda floor and in at the wide French window by which I was sitting trying to get a breath of fresh air. “Sara,” cooed Bobbie, laying the whitest of small hands on my shoulder, “Sara,” you dear, good thing, you will put your eyes out; don’t you know this is blind man’s holiday? Come, listen to our plans for a picnic.” And thus was the cat let out of the bag! A picnic! Do you suppose I turned to face those girls with any pleasurable feeling welling up in my heart? My dressmaker has found no symptoms of wings yet, and I'm sure it would take full-grown ones and @ crown to sweeten one sufficiently to en- dure the idea of a girls’ picnic with equa- nimity. I have been to a few picnics in my time, and I have acquired varied and valuable knowledge of these rural affairs. Somebody says: “Never bear more than one kind of trouble at a time. Some people bear three kinds—all they have had, all they have now, and all they expect to have." Excellent advice, and a truth terse- ly told. The mention of a prospective plc- nic developed in me the germs of all three troubles at one fell swoop. “We have just got back from the White House grounds, where the Marine Band was playing,” remarked Nora cheerfully, as I turned around, “and we thought how perfectly lovely a picnic would be.” And then she went on to relate how this Machiavelian idea originated. “You see, Elaine has never been at Mount Vernon yet, and she wants to go before her return to the west, and unless we go soon we will not get to go at all, because there is so much to take up our time just now.” In Another's Place. “It's to be a ‘pullet’ picnic, of course,” volunteered Dorothy, feeling somehow that I was not as hilariously in favor of the proposed jaunt as I ought to be. I did feel relieved, I will admit. I find that girls are rot nearly so unmanageable when there are no men lurking around the horizon to wheedle me into consenting to all sorts of hare-brained schemes, to which they are instigated by the girls; before I got a chance to say anything—and I was on the point of discouraging them because of the heat and trouble and general annoyance of such a trip—they wandered off into an animated discussion of the evening's per- formance and its incidents, which gave me time to reflect on my intended reply. I don’t know whether they did it with malice aforethought or not. Dorothy is perfectly capable of it, and she knows me and my idiosyncrasies, and may have purposely left me to think over what the refusal of such @ request would have meant to me if I were twenty years younger. Do you know, I believe that this putting ourselves in other people's places is a mighty good idea. I have taught Dorothy to always try doing that when she is about to decide hastily some question that may militate against the happiness or interest of others, particularly if the question she is called upon to decide is one that will bring regret to them, through her own selfish de- sire to escape trouble or discomfort. Life has enough shady places at best, where sunshine of love and good fellowship seldom penetrate, and It is our duty as members of one great family to avoid giving pain, even if we do not always afford consolation or comfort. Selfishness never makes us any happier; it seldom pays for its own greed and it renders us less valuable to our friends, because one selfish person can destroy the pleasure of a whole party, and rather than have such a dampener along, Mr. Selfishness comes, in time, to be left at home to amuse himself. Even old Solomon said, ‘Let us crown ourselves with rosebuds before they are whithered,” and with the advice of the “wisest man," as the old catechism puts it, ringing in my ears, I con- cluded that one of my rosebuds would wither and waste its sweetness on desert air if I did not proceed to pick it. Like a Cowboy's Work. “When do you intend to put this brilliant idea into action?” I asked, the first instant there was a lull in the fusillade of small talic about the dresses and the dudes and the men who had been down to hear the band. “Just as soon as you can find time to chaperone us,” replied Jennie, and I recog- nized the relief that was {ll concealed in her reply. It made me feel ashamed of my- self. I have been right crusty to them for the last two or three weeks. I had inter- ests of my own to look after, and I could not be running about with them all the time, so they had missed a good deal of pleasure, because there was no one to chap- perone the seven of them together, and one could not think of going without the other. “I do not mind taking two at once,” Mary's mother said, when I suggested that she take them once when I was ill, and had promised them a trip down the river, “but seven of them! My dear Sara, I assure you, in the language of your distinguished friend, Mr. Redtop, ‘I am no herder.’ ” Well, the upshot of it was, I was left to make all the arrangements, decide on what we would carry for lunch, and everything else, her loving kisses. “Sara seems to get through things so easily, and so satisfac- torily.” The getting the lunch together was no small matter, for there were six tastes to please, no two of them alike. But I let them suggest to their hearts’ content, and then prepared just what I pleased, because | I never saw a delicate appetite at a picnic | in my life. I have seen confirmed dyspep- tics eat hard-boiled eggs and pie and fat} ham and baker's bread, and never once sug- gest that they were not the very lightest and most delicate foods for a worn-out liver. roof off the house if a harassed wife had intimated that anything half as satistying was all that the larder afforded for lunch. Men are great frauds, but then they have some very good company to keep them from | being lonesome. Girls at Mount Vernon. Nora said that she would furnish the sandwiches, Jennie decided to attend to the egg part of the lunch, Dorothy, who ts a famous hand at cake, took that dainty for her own, and Elaine selected fruit for her share. The salads fell to Louise, who makes “boss” ones, according to Redtop, and I prepared all the rest. The day we selected simply perfect and it was with the lightest of hearts that we entered the historic shades of Mount Vernon, and leaving our lunch baskets with faithful old Moses-an-Aaron, began to explore the house and grounds. Elaine, who was the only one who had never been there, was very much fnterested in everything. She rather shocked the no- tions of veneration held by some of the others, particularly while gazing on the high tester bedstead upon which it is said that Washington died. “Is it stated for slept on that thin her that it was. “Well, I wonder that he lived as long as he did, if he habitually slept in a bed where his legs hung over the foot. I should think he would have frozen in winter in th that Washington she asked. I assured because, as Bobbie said, with one of! At home they would have raised the | | remark that she had herself wondered how | @ Stalwart like Washington with his six feet four of length had been able to stow himself away in a bedstead only about six feet long and with no footboard to hold the clothes on. “He must have doubled up or slept corner wise,” she remarked naively, “but my nurse never would let me do that; she said it would make me grow round shouldered.” The Hatchet Story. ‘They went down by the tomb of Wash- ington and there they found an old col- ored man who was selling little wooden hatchets. Elaine took one, and finding it to be reddish brown, asked if it was cherry. “Yeu, miss,” was the quiek reply. “Cut from the historic tree that made the ‘father of his country’ famous?” per- sisted Elaine. “Well, ro, miss, not ‘zactly,” was the non-committal reply. “You sees, honey, he dun cut dat tree down, but it growed some sprouts, and dese yer hatchets is made frem de great gran’chillun of dat tree. I made hit my a “And it grew right here on this place?” asked Elaine. ‘Deed it did, chile,” said the old man unhesitatingly. Elaine was perfectly willing to accept the bit from a cherry tree grown on the Place, when Bobbie brought everybody up short by asking in her timid way—Bobbie really knows & great deal, but she asserts herself exactly like a child that has been repressed by older people until it is not sure whether it ever had: any ideas worth presenting or not. It is a very reprehensi- ble habit for which parents are too often to blame. Bobbie said hesitatingly: “Of course, we all know that the cherry tree story is not—well, that it was just one of those little jokes that get to seem truth after being told so often, but Elaine, was Washington ever here till after he got to be a big boy—too big, 1 mean, to give rise to such a siily story as that?” And then it burst upon us like a calcium light that we had let the old colored man impose tpon us after all! He was too quick for us though, for he drew himself up in an exceedingly dignified way, and said quite loftily: “I dun tol’ you all it ain't de same cherry tree wat Mister Gineral Wash’ton cut down; dat was growed wha’ he were bo'n. Wen he come heah he dun carry a sprout wif him for to instruc’ his own chillun in de ways of truf and righteousness. He had a long haid on himse’f, Mister Gineral Wash'ton had!’ Amidst shrieks of laughter Elaine paid @ quarter for her cherry tree hatchet, and ten cents more to be shown the exact spot on which that particular “sprout” had grown, and then we went over where Moses-an-Aaron had laid out our lunch, Washington's Mother. It was a lovely spot, west of the mansion, under a wide-reaching linden tree, heavy with fragrant bloom. On the right was the sun dial, bearing the motto “Horas non numero nisi serenas,” and on the left the quaint old garden, with its box hedges and sweet shrub bushes just they were set out by the hands of the first President of the United States, now,over a century,dust, and between wound the driveway up which “Lady” Washington came a bride, with her stalwart husband by her side. Over the boxwood hedge the roses were blooming in riotous beauty, and Elaine slipped away from us for a moment to come back fairly weighted down with an arm-load of the fragrant flowers, “The gardener told me a pretty story about them,” she said, as she tossed the roses on the tablecloth among the viands, and began to distribute them. “It may be just a fairy story like the others, but it is So pretty that I am going to believe it. He Says that the rose was propagated right here on the estate, under Washington's own eye, and that was very proud of it, so named it for his mother, the ‘Mary Washington,’ and it has grown and in- creased wonderfully, besides being quite hardy. I wonder—" she finished thought- fully, as she buried her face in the last bunch before putting it beside her own place at the impromptu tabie—“I wonder why Washington never planted one of these beautiful roses above his mother’s grave? ved might have done her that honor, at ea: A Real Appetite. Nobody felt competent to answer that question, and so we fell upon that lunch like so many tramps, for we were almost famished. That table was a sight for hun- sry eyes, and the viands extremely tempt- ing to the palate, for they had all been prepared for outdoor appetites. And let me tell you there ts a lot of difference between the craving of a drawing room appetite and that of the same woman when she plays tennis or goes on long tramps; if you don’t believe it, try catering to both and dis- cover the difference for yourselves. There are tables at Mount Vernon for “pic- nickers’’ to dine on, but we preferred to take ours on the grass, Turk fashion. Elaine had among her belongings some Japanese tablecloths, which she got when she was in Tokio. The one she selected for our use was cream white crepe paper, as fine as silk, with a center and border of pale blue and pink in some arabesque de- sign, with a touch of green in it. At each “‘cover” lay a neatly folded nap- kin, also of paper, with a border of laven- der and pink flowers of impossible designs. When we unfolded them we found the date and day, the name of the piace, the names of the six girls, with myself as chaperone, and the menu, all done by Elaine, in her odd little square characters; it was a dain- ty piece of work, and Elaine at once in. formed us that there were unadorned o1 for use, but that these were “for show, just some women carry point lace hand- kerchiefs, and not to be used, but kept as mementoes of one of the pleasantest oc- | casions of the whole season she had spent with us. And to think I had selfishly come near depriving them of the trip! But they Were magnanimous, and never once men- tioned that. For a picnic menu, I don’t think that ours could be improved upon. The dishes we car- ried, with one or two exceptions, were the thin little wooden plates and dishes such | 48 are used in the market to put butter on, or for pickles; they are particularly nice for picnics, because there is no danger then of breaking good dishes, and it is much less trouble to pack picnic lunch when you do not have to care for crockery. Sandwiches Were Delicious, Nora’s sandwiches were a great success. One kind was made of light bread that had just a little shortening in it. The slices were first buttered on the loaf with sweet country butter, and then cut with a sharp kuife to a wafer-like thinness. For the filling she chopped very fine some of the white and dark meat of a boiled chicken, | dressed with salt and pepper, a tablespoon- | ful of butter to each cupful of the meat, | and a teaspoonful of French dressing; these she rubbed to a paste and then spread thin- ly upon one slice of the bread, first trim- ming the two slices of all crust, and mak- ing them exactly of a size; then she laid | the two together and rolled’ them in pieces | of buttered white paper. Another sandwich was made in the same way, only not rolled, and the filling was cucumbers, sliced as thin as paper, dressed with lemon and oil, and a tiny bit of mustard. Another “bread” dish was baking powder biscuits, made very short, and so thin that they looked like crackers. These were split open and but- | tered and filled with a thin layer of minced French sardines, dressed with lemon juice. These sandwiches were packed in small paper boxes, each kind in a box of its own, | lined with tissue paper, and consequently came out as fresh and palatable as though served in one’s dining room. Jennie’s egg contribution was as pretty as it was palatable. She pickled some, and colored them red with beet juice in the vinegar, strong cold tea gave her a fine green, and cherries a lovely pink. They looked mighty pretty, in one of the wooden plates in a nest of lettuce leaves. Then sne had some deviled eggs. These she made by boiling the eggs for fifteen minutes, which makes them almost as digestible as soft boiled ones, then she cut them in haif, took the yokes and pounded them to a thick paste with some French dressing, some finely minced celery and pepper and salt; then she filled the white with the | paste, put them together, fixed up a little motto for each, over which the girls had any amount of fun, and rolled them in wax- ed paper with fringed ends, Salads That Were Poems, Then she had fried eggs. She boiled them ‘st, then chopped them fine with a tiny bit of lean ham, pepper, a pinch of mustard and some lemon juice. She rolled the paste | into the size of eggs, dipped each in beaten | egg, then in cracker crumbs and fried in hot lard. They were as sweet and nice as could be. The salads that Louise made were | perfect poems in “oils.” There was one of lettuce and egg which she prepared after we sat down, with oil and mayonnaise, and | another of ripe tomatoes, while a third, of chicken, was simply delicious. I made a chicken pie, one that you bake in an oven, with an upper and an under crust, with plenty of good, rich gravy inside to make a kind of jelly when it gets cold. The girls declared it was nicer than cake. The p “Bekase I'd not deny mesilf the small satisfaction of knowin fhwat I died wid.” this old barn of a house anyhow, and to| chicken should be cooked first and all the have to sleep in a bed that was at ieast | bones taken out, so that the pie will slice six inches shorter than himself must have | when cold like cake. It should have a mid- been awful.” | dle crust too, and should be made the day Of course the girls “oh'd” and “ah'd,"| before using. I had a nice little pat of al s do when a thing| pressed turkey and a mold of cranberry Z pat, but ely to | jelly, and another of crab-apple. be admitted, and thea to SENORA SARA. EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, JUNE 23, 1894-TWENTY PAGES.. =o A MAN’S HAT It is Shown to Be an Inder of His Character. TS OSE IN VARIOUS SALOTATIONS It Expresses the Social Tempera- ment of the Time. MEANING OF THE STYLES Written Exclusively for The Evening Star. HERE WAS A DE- cided touch of pathos in the words that a young Washington clubman used the other day when he described what had befalien him a short time before when he had run over to New York for a day or two on business. He said he had gone in- to a friend's office down town, and that the first words said to him were, “Where did you get it?” Ordinarily, he would sup- pose that the inquiry had reference to a certain reckless, merry look that is sup- posed to belong to the person who obvious- ly has an incipient “jag on,” but as the hour was too early for that, he concluded that there was something in his appear- ance a little out of the common run. “Where did I get what?” he asked. “Why, that hat,” said his friend. He was wearing a fine straw hat with a ribbon of bright stripes about it. Chidcgeiad the matter with the hat?’ he sa! “Oh, nothing; only how many others have you seen?” He had not thought about it, but later, as he walked down Broadway, he noticed that no other man wore a straw hat, and when he went up on Sth avenue in the afternoon the same condition of affairs prevailed. He was almost alone in New York with his straw hat. Since he had no other hat with him he was compelled to urdergo considerable ridicule, which he ac- cepted philosophically, merely remarking to everyone who asked about the hat that straw hats were almost universally worn in Washington, and consequently must be the correct style, and here he was doubt- less right, for New York is now doing the very thing that it laughed at the Wasn- ingtonian for doing a week ago. When to Put on a Straw. There is something about the straw hat and when to put it on that is hard to de- termine, but with us the general rule seems to be to put it on as soon as the weather makes it a comfortable thing to wear, whereas the New Yorkers, who are less independent than we are, use it not when the weather demands it so much as when a — unwritten law declares it is the style. The writer remembers very well how a gentleman living in Louisiana, leaving the city the first day of April, journeyed north- ward in the same clothes that he had worn in New Orleans. In all respects he was not inappropriately clad, except in the matter of his hat, which was a fine affair of white straw with a gcod big generous brim. It was a very comfortable thing when he started out, and when he reached Wasitington, while {t was unique and had hardly any companions, it still was merely @ little in advance of the season; but when he arrived in New York and walked into the hotel where he always stopped the clerk behind the counter could not re- strain himself, but burst out laughing. “It's the hat!” he exclaimed, “it's the hat! What on earth are you doing w a straw hat in New York before the mid- dle of June?” The southerner went out forthwith and bought a black hat, and, now, whenever he goes traveling in the spring of the year, the first thing he thinks of is the propriety of his hat. Importance of the Hat. “What is the most important part of mankind's apparel?” the writer once asked of a social philosopher of great experience. “The hat,” he answered without hesita- tion, and he proceeded to explain. He said when you want to court a man’s acquaintance you touch your hat; wh you want to snub him you let it alon When you want to show reverence for any- thing you take your hat off, when you wish to show great pleasure at seeing a friend you wave your hat to him as you see him coming. When you are enraptured by the words of a public speaker, or when you be- come enthusiastic over a great man re recklessly drunk you smash your hat. All these things are due, accord. ing to this philosopher, to the fact that nothing makes or mars a man’s appearance so much as his hat. Take the most gentle- manly man on earth and put a derby hat on him that is greenish, instead of black, that has spots on it, that has a brim that is shiny as though, as some one has said, it was a favorite promenade of snails, and you will not suppose the wearer to be a gentleman any longer. Similarly, you may be much pleased with the appearance of man in a parlor when he wears a hand- scme long frock coat, but if you see him out-of-doors with that long coat on and a low-crowned felt hat, instead of the stove- pipe silk hat, you may be pardened if you bow to him a little coolly. But a it really is made by men to express the social temperament of their time. In the natty straw hat of the summer months you can see reflected a people who are fond of out- door pleasure, who do not intend, either, that all the color and picturesqueness of summer life should be appropriated wholly by the fair sex. In the modern derby there is the expression of business activity, com- bined with good appearance. It says at once, “I belong to a race that has not the time to press the shape of its hats with its hands, and yet must hav hat that will permit of graceful bow: The silk hat shows that, notwithstanding that we are all busy these day and in a hurry,we neverthe- less have some of the formality of the days of our grandfathers left, and, as an evidence thereof, we have preserved our grand- fathers’ hat, with some slight modification. Hats in Past Ages, Now, if anybody doubts this interpreta- tion of hats, let him look at those that were worn in the days of King James and Charles I in England, and contrast them with the hats that Cromwell's men intro- duced. The first had flapping brims, and these were usually pulled down on one side and thrust up on the other side. They were the hats of pleasure makers. If you should see one hanging on a wall you would draw the face to which it belonged as a red one, ready to laugh and beaming all manner of jollity. But the Cromwellian hat was very different. The crown was long and peaked like the solemn steeple of a church and the broad brim was straight, hard, unrelenting, It belonged to a pale, serious face, with a solemn peaked beard. Yet there were some of these men of the commonwealth who did not accept it in all its dreary solemnity, and they would not wear this hat, but had one with a shorter crown, a bent brim and a feather running up behind. When William III was king the chapeau was sulted to men’s character. It was a gaudy affair, was highly ornamental and belonged to the time when the great- est dandies that had ever been seen came on the stage. It was still in vogue when our revolution changed all this and gave place to a less vain race of men who intro- duced the modern hat, abolished rougeing among men and finally put starched shirt bosoms in the place of ruffles and lace. Figurative Significances, Because of the great importance as an in- dex to men’s minds and habits, the hat has all sorts of figurative significations. A car- dinalship is known largely from the fact that cardinals wear red hats, as simply the “red hat.” and the head of a kingdom is called by what he is suppo: to wear on | his head, “the crown. Then, soliciting alms is called “passing around the hat,” and when a man ts talking nonsense he is said to be “talking through his hat,” a thing which, undoubtedly, no man ever seriously did. A man who ts tipsy has a “brick in his hat,"and one who makes hi in a hospitable friend's hous his hat.” is latter phrase, however, has come to apply largely to those fortunate young men who, having no homes of their own and no prospect of ever making money enough to provide homes for themselves, marry girls who already have good houses. The new husband, then, simply “hangs his hat up” in the hall and is provided for for life. There is another expression known “thumbing the hat,” which is used board of fishing ‘vessels to deter- mine the order of the night watches. The hands gather around the captain, placing each one a thumb on the inside of the brim of a hat, and the captain, beginning at random, counts the thumbs off, until he reaches the seventh, which must stand the first watch. He then begins over again and the second man who is reached when he counts off seven thumbs stands the sec- ond watch, and so on. In the House of Commons. Another use is found in the British house of commons, where it is customary for the members to secure their seats by placing their hats in the places they have severally Selected. These seats are thus said to have been “hatted off,” and it is an interesting fact that may be noted in passing that some members have two hats, one to wear and the other to “hat off” their seats with. Most important of the figurative uses of the word ts doubtless that a cap is meant to stand for liberty. On the twenty-five- cent pieces up to a few years ago the fig- ure of Liberty was seated in a chair holding in her hand a staff with a liberty cap on the end of it, and among the Romans when @ slave was made free he was presented with a cap. That the hat should have any- thing to'do with so prosaic a subject as the teriff would, at first sight, seem to be im- Probable, yet at the beginning of the 16th century, when the government of Worms wished to petition that of Frankfort to abolish the tariff which the latter town maintained, it sent a messenger with a felt hat in his hand. It was used as the symbol of freedom and of petition. —+e2—___ DOOM OF THE BATH TUB. as o1 Ablution of the Future Will Be by Rain and Shower Baths. The dwelling house of the future, con- structed on scientific and hygienic prin- ciples, will be bathtubless, says the New York Mail and Express. The porcelain- lined and ginc-lined and tin-lined tubs of today will be unknown. Their Place will be taken by a tiled room, in which will be arranged shower or rain baths at various angles. These douches wil supply hot, cold or tepid water at the pleasure of the bather, and the liquid will be carried off as fast as it is vsed by a spacious drain Pipe. The idea is not a new one, and wherever it has been adopted the result has been gratifying. There are three houses in London, recently completed, supplied with this method of bathing, and there is said to be one in Philadelphia. It is not known whether the innovation has Been made in New York—that is, Whether there is any private dwelling fitted up exclusively with shower baths. There are several fashion- able houses on Madison end 5th avenues that have both, but it is doubtful if any- where the tub has been abandoned alto- gether. . It 1s claimed for the rain bath that it is in every way superior to the method we have known since civilization began, and this has been proven in many public insti- tutions. The first one ever built in America was put in the New York Juvenile Asylum. The Demilt Dispensary has them, and so has the bathing establishment erected by the trustees of the Baron Hirsch fund at Henry and jarket streets. One of the largest rain baths in the country ts no in course of construction in the State Hos. pital for the Insane at Utica, and it is pre- dicted that within a very few years all prisons and hospitals will have adopted the system. The most enthusiastic advocate of the rain bath is William Paul Gerhard, who has made a study of its advantages. In the first place, he says that it requires less space in the planning of a bath house, it consumes less time in application, the body of the bather does not come in contact with solid water, the mechanical and tonic effect of the descending stream is unques- tionable, the cleansing and stimulating effects are greater than in a bath tub, less water is required, and no time is lost in waiting for the filling of a tub in houses where the supply is slow. These are a few of the reasons advanced, and Mr. Gerhard bases an elaborate argument upon them, maintaining’ his position throughout with @ logic that is convincing and interesting. Sceneaecicicaseipiiiabs A CUTE LOVER. He Won the Girl With a Single Well- ‘Timed Remark. He had nursed the hope tenderly that ecme day he might win her, says the De- troit Free Press, but in these later days hope had almcst retired from active life. True, she still permitted his attentions, but there was that in her manner which told him far more plainly than words that he was losing his grip at the rate of thirty-seven miles a minute. If, indeed, he ever had a grip. On this point even he had doubts at times. Yet, in it all there were often gleams of sunshine throvgh the rifts in the clouds, ind he depended on them to revivify the fading buds of his hope. He knew that nobody knows what a wo- man will do when nobody is expecting it. She doesn’t even know herself. So it was that one day his utter devotion to her asserted itself and he asked her to be his wife. “Henry,” she answered in @ calm, sister- ly manner, “I had scarcely expected this at this time. I had thought you would un- derstand without my speaking. Now I see I must be very pia! did “Don’t say that,” ly and lovingly; You cannot he interrupted earnest- ay “don't say that, dearest. very plain—you are Deeutiful. Say it some other way, dearest” Her face filled with astonishment, which faded away as a dissolving view, and in its stead came that look which makes a lover swear he’s looking in an angel's face come down from heaven to greet him with a smile. rat Hl a coeek Sek rh She 5 jail and farewell! sweet maid, While golden beads and gray Wave welcomes as you pass Forth on your homeward way! r ‘HOUSEHOLD HINTS The Advantage of the Use of Fraitr in Warm Weather. SUGGESTIONS FOR APPETIZING DISHES The Kitchen Ought to Be the Brightest Domestic Room. LATE COMERS AT oe ‘Written Exclusively for The ‘Brening Star. I saw a pretty basket recently, which haa been made for a catch-all on « toilet It was one of the common very small kind, with a handle. The little girl made it was told how by who had one when she was a think perhaps the art of been almost lost. Dissolve sticks of red sealing hol. Dip the basket rather paint it—and rice all over it—on Then take a small bristle the rice evenly, after the coating it adheres is perfectly dry. way several times, here and there, and red coral basket. Line the harmonizing color and tie & ribbon bow. se 2 The father who plunges Geeply that he has no i duues and pleasures, and course with his children word of euthority, or over their expensiveness, pitied and to be blamed. only desirable bequest which « leave to his children. Well-culth tellects: hearts sensible to a the _ of parents; @ taste pleasures; habits of order, regularity at industry; hatred of vice, and a lively sibility of the excellence vf virtue valuable an inheritance as property; one can be dispersed i & He I z i Fe = Hf its 2 hone . 5 até i £ 4 & ers vannot. . 3 é : Hy il fountain pen by ; fe i g if i § & i it gs | Z | HT g , : ie bie atrial le i taught to go to the Ye ee | i | ie A 3 8 Fy # ; ; i HE & 2, & RBES Fy fli f [ i it i i i ! 3 i ts. t ; i i it f i 8 tf FhaShehs, i ie if i 9 i iy | i i d The kitchen ought g 5 esting room in the house be the best fur. nished—in proportion, of eourse—and yet it is too often the case that it is the most dismal hole imaginable. Many house build- ers no attention to the location of the kitchen at all. They put it off in a lower — ge yoy) yp AE 4 ‘ARD RENA other purpose, end there woman who ‘Washington, bomen aoe - does her own pod t-te *Ave, atque vale. (We trust to of her waking hours. The kitchen shoul! peng amy ON fg yy thtest room in When Takes a Bath. regent and the room where the chil: From the Providence Journal. dren sleep. It should have every conven: Every owner of a pet dog, of course, de- | tence for saving labor and steps and be well sires to have his favorite appear in the | Ventilated. It need not be @ FH Pink of condition, with a strong, healthy | 70m. if everything is compactly bedy and bri; os in it, ana it should have the walls \y a ight, glossy coat. Among ama- | with cupboards, built in the house. teurs there is a prevalent belief that the | sinks should not be inclosed, for if yf bath is as much of a necessity for dogs as | are a bit damp they will get for men. Such, however, 1s not the case, | 12 @ very short me tee = ani dogs that receive a fair amount of ex- | Svercome It You wall Bid oe nen is ercise should only be washed at infrequent | off under the back stoop and has ty intervals, as too plentiful use of water is | window, facing om up area, or sure to injure the hair, by compelling it to Part with a large portion of the oily matter | way: that helps to keep it supple and smooth. In- stead of the bath the dog’s hair should be given a thorough grooming each day, with a brush provided with long suf bristles that will reach the skin. Then the hair should be rubbed for a few minutes with the hand, either bare or covered with a woolen mit- ten, in the same direction in which it has been brushed. The effect of this method of treatment will soon make itself apparent in @ coat of beautiful silky luster. Combs, es- pecially the fine tooth variety, to be se- verely condemned for uct on dogs, and the brushes that are employed should be thor- oughly washed in mild carbolic water at least once a week. When washing becomes a necessity it should only be done two or three hours a ter the dog has been fed, and then in a warm room, where the animal will be pro- tected from draughts. The temperature of the water used should be nearly equal to the heat of the body, and it is best to have that employed for rinsing only a trifie cold- er. The transparent glycerine balls or cakes are to be commended as the best fcr use, among soaps