Evening Star Newspaper, August 4, 1894, Page 17

THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, AUGUST 4, 1894-TWENTY PAGES, WOMAN’S CROWN The Hair, Which is One of Her Most Attractive Features, ‘COFFURES SHOULD SUIT THE FACE’ ——_>—__—_ The Bang Too Becoming to Go Out of Fashion Entirely. OLD PICTURES STUDIED Written Exclusively for The Evening Star. HE LOOKS AS though she had just Stepped out of a pic- ture frame.” That is the very highest Praise that you can bestow upon a young lady now, and then it generally refers to her head. The Con- gressional Library is raked with a fine- tooth comb to find old books with old styles for dressing the hair, which bright-faced girls will take home in their heads and modify to suit thelr own “noggirs” and spring on an un- suspecting world as a “new style.” Old Pictures and old prints are studied with an assiduity worthy of a—well, I was about to say, of a better cause; but, after all, is there anything unworthy that makes us mcre pleasing to our friends or that ren- ders us mere attractive in face and figure? Her Forehead ts High. It ts undeniably true that a great many Women would be much more comely look- ing if they understcod their own faces and could arrange their hair in accord with them. “l grooming is as necessary to a woman's go0d looks as it is to that of a horse. In fact, the word “greom” is very well applied to both men and women with regard to their personal appearance. A horse must have a smooth and shining ccat, free from dust and glossy, to show care and good health, and you may be sure that a woman who has dry. dusty looking hair straggling in tousled strings over her head is untidy about her person cr has {ll health. Unfortunately, tt is more often a spirit of indifference which causes her to let woman's crowning beauty go uncared for. It is sueh an easy matter to keep the hair looking well that one can but be amazed at the lack of attention paid to one of the most attractive features of a woman. The hair should be brushed and combed at least twice a day. If the scalp is at all inclined to have dandruff on it, some mild tonic should be applied. What will seem to make one woman's hair healthy will not always do for another, but there is one tonic that ts always good, and that is quinine and bay rum. Sixty grains of quinine to a pint of bay rum. It does not make the hair greasy and sticky, and {s particularly cooling and refreshing to a fevered scalp. It will not keep the hair from curling, elther. It should be applied in the evening, just before re- tiring, and if two applications are neces- sary, put {t on again in the morning. How to Wash the Hatr. ‘The hair should be washed at least once a month in summer, but does not need it so often in winter. You can wash the life out of your hair by dabbling with it too often. You should use soft water if possible and then white castile soap ts all the other in- gredient necessary. If you must use hard water put in it a plentiful portion of borax and rinse the head well. Do not subject your poor scalp to every new hair wash that An Oval Face. comes along; some of the lotions contain fz.jurious substances, and you won't find it out till you have tried them. Never put oil on the hair. If it seems to be harsh and stiff rub it with a little good white vaseline. eline is a good dressing. because It oils without making the hair sticky, and while it softens it seems to evaporate. After you have got your hair in good order study your face and see what effect you can pro- @uce in “doing” your hair more becomingly. A woman who can plan a becoming gown ought to be able to arrange a becoming colffure, but not all of them can. In the first place, too many women adopt a style because It is new and catches their fancy, and pay no attention to its becomingness. A few general rules, if observed, would soon demonstrate the truth of my statement. A noted French hair dresser says of American women: “They do not give time and study to thelr eoiffures. You do mostly what is stylish; in Paris they do what ts becoming. If it is not stylish they make it ‘The criticism is just. Any woman article of regard for her per- sonal appearance will study her face for a yle of hair, just the same as she er figure when she fs contemplating ¢ selects her material and so.’ who has a "xown. § the mode for it with strict reference to her particular style. And so she should do when suiting her head to a change of apparel. If | her face Is broad and her forehead low she will seek to turn her hair back and up from | t and make a lot of fluffy 4 her temples to take away > breadth. If her face is long and . with high forehead, she will have x, light and extending well down side of the face, but not too promi- rent there, lest it accentuate the thinness, and she will rot do her hair very high, be- cause that will m her neck look bony. A woman with such a face is sure to have @ lot of “scolding locks,” and those she will curl and fasten up !f possible, or, if they are too short, she will let them fluff around her neck. If her face is square, with wide, prominent forehead, she will part her hair in the middle, curl it in a light, wavy fash- fon, and let {t drop over her temples and puff up over the sides of her head, giving @n appearance of length. She will arrange her hair high in the back and stick a tall ecmb in it, so that it will stand well up from the top of her head. The Long, Oval Face. If she’ is gifted with the long, oval face that one sees in the Sistine Madonna, she can wave her hair a little, part it evenly to the very back of her head, and comb it down over her ears, taking care not to obstruct the hair line along the edge, which is one of the most perfect examples of the lines of beauty, and will knot it either high or low on the back of her neck. With this style she will wear Marie Antoinette scarfs and quaint scoop-like hats with a great Waved All Over. many flowers on them, or a lot of drooping plumes, and fool some man into thinking she is a perfect little saint. An authority on hair says that the latest style of colf- fure which finds favor in Paris is long and narrow. The hair may be arranged in a coil or knot, as fancy dictates, taking care to adjust it becomingly, but it must be elongated by an extra twist, or two little curls at the back for evening wear. The waving of the hair all over the head is very popular. and the parting, which has so tried the souls of those to whom it is not be- coming, is slowly vanishing. There 1s a little attempt to revive the fashion of elab- orate head dresses, with flowers and feath- ers, birds and piles of ribbon qnd velvet. But !t will hardly obtain. A very pretty hair adornment is a couple of smail ostrich tips, standing across the head like an Ai- satian bow, with an algrette in the center. A wide spread buttertly ts another pretty ornament, and nothing prettier can be de- vised than the revival of the custom of wearing fresh flowers in the hair. Koses, camellias and carnations are the favorites. Artificial flowers are sometimes worn, but they cannot be sald to be as graceful as the natural ones, no matter how handsome they are. A very pretty old fashion is revived for holding refractory kangs in place in the small side combs worn forty and fifty years ago. Sometimes they are plain tor- toise shell, but more often they have siiver or gold banGs, aud are even made entirely of the precious metals. For even'ny wear they are richty set with set anl are then a striking addition to the tollet. Jeweled bands are also worn with evening dress, but are not universally becoming, because they require a certain kind 5? coiffure to make them effective, and it is trying to many faces. You will often hear and read that the “bang” has gone out. Don't believe it. The poodle dog bang, which was always a hide- A Curly Pompado: ous thing, has disappeared, fortunately, but the soft curly arrangement of the hair over the forehead has not gone out, and in all probability it never will. It is too becom- ing to almost every face, softening hard lines, and hiding bad foreheads, for it ever to disappear entirely. It is modified to suit its various wearers, sometimes being a mere fringe, often parted and curled on each side of the forehead, or rolied up in a curly Pompadour. But on nine-tenths of the fashionable women you will find the bang in some guise or another. But whatever style you are pleased to adopt, do try and suit it to your particular face. soo WHEN YOUR WIFE’S AWAY. Diversions of the Married Man Left Home All Alone in Summer Time. From the Buffalo Courier. The observant stay-at-home—one who does a little prowling at night—cannot fall to notice the increasing number of midnight lamps which fllumine the shades of the second-story windows. Midnight gas jets come nearer the truth, for men are unani- mous in their scorn for kerosene, and go into open revolt against it as soon as madam fs safely out of town. Yes, the number of midnight lamps ts In- creasing, for no sooner does the deserted husband find himself privileged to do as he pleases, and free from that call—so haras- sing when he fs in the middle of an exciting story—“John, aren't you coming to bed?"— then he buys and borrows quantities of “all-overish” Mterature, turns on ail the gas, gets out a bottle of something wet and a plate of something dry, and proceeds to take his summer read. The summer ts the only season in which he ts able to gratify the hunger of his dear- est wish—that of reading in bed. For, no matter where he may select his bedroom— upstairs or down—his light {3 sure to dis- turb his sensitive partner, and to inspire repeated protests against his unreasonable course. She is always afrald that he is go- ing to injure his health or his eyes, and finally, in ostensible deference to her wishes, he gives the thing up as a hopeless case, and resolves to wait until she has gone for the summer before resuming his favorite dissipation. Then, after he has taken the whole family to the train, seen that the luggage ts on, put all the bags and bundies and the three children in the wrong sections, and then had to change them all back again; after he has gone back again to the ticket office to see why their sections are not all together, and then had to run back in order to get the checks to his wife before the train pulled out; after he has received any number of hasty moist kisses and bear-like hugs from the boys, he rushes out, steps from the moving train with the air of a man who can do that sort of thing extremely well, and then saunters up the street in a care- less, objectless way. As there ts nothing to hurry home for, he amuses himself with the windows and the people on the streets, but it proves an unexciting pastime, and he takes the car for home. There in the airy solitude of the second story, with the doors and windows wide open, and the gas all on, he plunges into the adventures of Stanley Weyman’s heroes, or reads the back numbers of “Trilby,” or, perchance, forsaking the moderns, ' goes back to the D'Artagnon romances and lives again the life of the “Three Musketeers.” ‘One o'clock, 2 o'clock, 3 o'clock strike, and still he reads on. At first he reads guiltily, as one who fears to be surprised In some criminal act, but by the end of the week he will have grown accustomed to doing as he pleases, and will no longer expect the voice of rebuke from his drowsy mate. os Time Enough. From Life. Lawyer—“But, Mrs. Smith, It seems to me that you have absolutely no cause for de- siring a divorce. You tell me that in all the twenty years of your married life your hus- | band has treated you with unvarying kind- ness, and that—" Fair client—“No cau How long do you imagine it requires for one to become thor- oughly tired of the name of Smith?” +—_—__— “If your boy doesn’t reform, old fellow, you won't be able to keep him out of jail | ulously honest, the nature refined and the GROWING OLD The Pleasures and Advantages of Advancing Years, NEW IDEAS AND NEW FRIENDSHIPS Notable Instances of Active, Useful Years of Old Age. LIFE’S MELLOW DECLINE Written Exclusively for The Evening Star, NCE UPON A TIME = there was a school girl who occasionally pondered upon the melancholy condition of those of her ac- quaintances who had reached the extreme of one score years and ten. Although she had scarcely the audacity, in that day and generation of rather repressed * childhood, to put the thought into words, ‘her own private opin- ion was that they were past all enjoyment, while the men and women who, by some extraordinary provision and assistance of nature, had managed te keep body and soul together for sixty winters, were the objects of her unmitigated commiseration as Individuals who had drained life’s goblet to its bitter dregs. If a single, long step merged a human be- ing from youth to maturity and from ma- turity to decrepitude, there might have been some foundation for the erection of such @ childish fancy. But this is not the case. The gray hairs come, one by one, and why should we grieve at their appearance or essay to pluck them out as impudent in- truders?* Miss Muloch says: ‘o grow old grace- fully is a good and beautiful thing, but to grow old worthily Is a better.” It is wisely decreed that added years shall whiten the locks and soften down the ruddy tints of youth in the face, and if this assertion be doubted we pray you, when next on Penn- sylvania avenue, to note the painful incon- grulty between the features of some dap- per old man and the raven hue of his mu tache, or the one unchanging spot of hectic bloom on either faded check of the eiderly woman, which serves but to emphasize twice over all that is unyouthful in her ap- pearance. We suddenly discover some day that we have ceased running up and down stairs, and do not remember when we laid aside a habit which had been fixed for at y-five years. Well, what if we | We hot sure but that it is a gain instead of loss, since we take more pains to think of the necessary er- rands on each iioor while there, and so make one trip take the piace of three. We sumenuw have no further ambition to distinguish ourselves as pedestrians. What of that? Thanks to the ubiquitous street car, we can ride almost anyw and save so many precious moments the by the few pennies spent are mot worth considering. . Annoying Failure of Memory. We are amazed and annoyed to find that our memory cannot be entirely relied on ef late. Although when we meet Mr. -— unexpectedly in market some morning we | know that he is from Montgomery county; that his wife is a fine musician, and that he had five children sick with the measles when his barn burned.down, yet to save the whole family and all their possessions We cannct recalf the man’s name, and he bids us good bye presently, with the im- pression that we are much more unsociable and stupid at home than abroad. While this common disability 1s no crime, It is a, serious inconvenience and a failing that should be striven against with our whole might. A resolution to compel the mind | to do its work is half the battle. The act | of learning some verse or paragraph by rote each day is sald to be the greatest aid to a treacherous memory. But even this apparent defect mzy have a silver lining to its cloud if we can school ourselves to for- get the injuries, the debts and the misun- derstandings of the past and to remember the blessings and the pleasures alone. The editors have evidently conspired | nowadays to use nonpareil type instead of | rrinion, ard the eyes ‘of No. 8 needles are certainly a good deal smaller than they were twenty years ago. Shall we for theze reasons consent to strain and impair the | optic nerve? Not for an hour. How for-| timate that there are so many degrees and styles of eyeglasses in vogue and that | they are almost universally admitted to promote a certain Gignity of fearing in the | wearer, so much so that they are not in- | frequently adopted unnecessarily, fiom the belief that they are becoming. Believe us, | it is much more comfortable and admirable to frankly admit, once for all, that our young days have departed forever and recognize in ourselves the same tmmutable erder that has made the seasons change, assured that each epoch has Its pleasures, its privileges, Its duties, and all are equally worth possessing and enjoying. Although we may not recall the vanished years, Ict us “thank God and take courage” to go on steadily and fearlessly in the knowledge that there is no point in life from which | we may not ascend mentally, morally and spiritually. To Thyself Be Trae. Perhaps one of the greatest negative benefits of added years is the frequent | diminution of self-consequence. That man and woman must indeed be a dull observer who has not learned, ere the forty-fifth mile stone be passed on iife’s highway, that the unknown, dreaded world concerns itself much less about us all personally than was once supposed. If the tongue be truthful and discreet, if the actions be open and above board, the individual serup- | manners gentle none need fear a_perma- nent loss of social standing from the accl- | dent of clothing, or even homes, being a} little behind the times, If men and women have respectability In the broadest sense of the word, they have it under all cireum- stances, and when we meet those who are constantly in terror lest they be deprived of caste by trifles we may safely take it for granted there was less than the re- quired amount at first. Said a bright girl to us once: “TI don’t In- tend to spend all my money on clothes, People don’t care a bit what I wear and they would rather be better dressed than I am than not, so I shall save up and try to decorate the inside of my cranium first.” ‘The same logic holds good tn more import- ant matters than dress, and, while we do not accuse humanity at large of a lack of kindly interest in its fellow creatures, the young can hanily realize, what all over forty know to be the truth, that maturity generally brings the compensation of great- er latitude of thought and action. It has ceased to torment us what average ac- quaintances will think or say of us if our consciences do not reprove us. Explorers of the great dark continent tell us that in the far interior of Africa dwells a tribe of dwarfs who possess such courage and pow- ers of endurance they are a scourge to the other wild tribes of that section, some of whom are of extraomiinary stature and strength. Who has not noticed the fact that most small men and women seem en- dowed with an unlimited supply of pluck and staying qualities, which enables them to stand abreast in achievement with those more liberally bullt physically? So, though the youth and the maiden may ac- complish tasks at break-neck speed, if the same be performed by the older members of the family, in a more deliberate man- ner, the result 1s usually more substanttal. Efficiency With the Years. When we were young if grandmother darned a rent, or tried her hand at French | gathers, or made ginger-cakes; or if grand- father glued a chair, or sharpened a pair of scissors, they left absolutely nothing to be desired in the case. “Josh Billings” says with his quaint drollery, “Ef a man can’t do quite as much after he turns the corner of fifty, ef he works at certain to do it first rate,” a excellent suggestion in the quote from De Tocqueville, To “Man is a traveler toward a colder and colder region, jelet and the higher his altitude the faster ought to be his pace. The great malady of the soul is cold; it must be combated by activity and exeftion, by contact with one’s fellows and the business of the world. In these days we cannof live upon what we have already learned, we must learn more, and instead of sleeping away our uired ideas we must seek for fresh ones, and make the new opinions fight with the old, and of youth with those of an altered state of thought and society.” So, cheerfully ac- knowledging that our steps may falter, the rests upon the, pilgrimage be more fre- quently needed, the sight be dimmed, the hearing less keen, the recollection fallible; us, nevertheless, endeavor to do thoroughly all that, our willing hands and brains find to be their daily tasks, with our whole hearts in the work, whether it ul- timately benefit ourselves or posterity. “For age is opportunity no less Than youth itself, though in another dress; And as the evening twilight fades away, ‘The sky is filled with stars invisible by day.” ‘The cxtraordinary achievements of Eng- Msh men and women of three score and ten prove the truth of the adage that “a man ig only old as he feels, and a woman as she looks.” Sir Henry Holland, physician to the queen, was active in his profession when eighty years of age, and he took sev- eral long trips to America, to Asia, to Ice- jand, and to Asia Minor after he was sev- enty-five, visiting this country seven times in all. On his return his carriage invariably met him at the station in London, and he made a round of medical visits before re- pairing to his home. Hannah More, Mary Russell Mitford, Caroline Herschel, Harriet Martineau and Mary Somerville were ex- tremely old women before they ceased to perform a marvelous amount and quality of mental labor. Sir Moses Montefiori did not hesitate, at the age of ninety-five, to travel to St. Petersburg to mtercede with the czar on Lehalf of his oppressed race. Our country- man, George Bancroft, was a shining ex- ample of what an active old man yy ac- complish; while by “loving to lea and knowing ‘how to reflect,” he laid by a per- petual feast for his last days. Many more instances might be cited to prove that it is the truest wisdom to live as if we might dic tomorrow, but to plan and execute as if we were sure of a round cen- oa The Value of Time. ‘Time files so much more rapidiy as we ad- vance in life it is highly destrable to cultt- vate habits of industry and punctuality, so as to make the most of each day. We have sald “cultivate habits,” though the same wise Billings borrowed from above assures us that, since it is so difficult for a middle- aged man to acquire new habits, he must make a great effort to “steer” those he has already formed in the right direction. Cie- ero, more than 1,900 years ago, delivered an oration upon age, in which occurs the fol- lowing: ‘Those who kave no internal re- sources of happiness will find themselves uneasy in every stage of life, but to him who 1s accustomed to derive happiness from within himself no state will appear as a real evil into which he ts conducted by the com. mon and regular course of nature, and thi is peculiarly the case with regard to o age.” That fascinating old bear, Dr. John- son, said: “If a man does not’ make new acquaintances as he advances in life he will soon find himself left alone. A man, sir, should keep his friendships in constant re- pair.” Benjamin Franklin, as “Poor Richard,” admonished, “Dost thou value life? Then do not squander time, for that is the stuff Mte is mace of;" and @ verse from Whittier must have place heret “I mourn nd mote my vi Beneath a tender rain— An April rafh bf smiles and tears— My heart grows young again.” Charles Dickews, fn describing a happy, middle-aged man, wrote: “Father always a hard parent, and, rrigs fur none, he often lays ntuly on those who have us aking them old men and wome , but leaving their he: vigor. such the ¢ impression of the old fellow them a bless- ing, and every wrinkle but a notch in the quiet calendar of'a well-spent life.” Oliver Wendell Holmes, perhaps the most vigorous man of his years'intBoston, and assuredly one of the most ‘versatile’ and delightful authors America has produced, is authority for the statement “that a man over ninety elderly neigh- et Ruard at the extreme young fellows of sixty or 1 that the enemy must get by he can come near the eamp y in one of his rippling verses nd yet bravely— ‘So each shall mourn, in life's advance, Dear hopes, dear , untimely killed, Shall grieve for many a forfeit chance And longing passion unfulfilled, Amen, whatever fate be sent, Pray God the heart may kindly glow, Although the head with cares be bent And whitened with the winter snow. Youth of Old Age. Bulwer gave us this sentiment: mind keeps the body fresh. Take in the ideas of today, drain off those of yesterday. As to the morrow, time enough to consider it when it becomes today,” and in the writings of Thoreau may be found the tdea expressed that none are really old but those who have outlived enthusiasm, Gail Hamil- ton’s ready pen wrote upon the subject:“You are getting into years, it is true; but the years ave getting into you; the ripe, mellow years! One by one the cruditits of youth are failing off from you, the variety, the egoWsm, the uncertainty. Every wrong read into which you have wandered has brought you by the knowledge of that mis- take nearer to the truth.” Victor Hugo, in congratulating a friend upon the occasion of his fortleth birthday, said: “Be not dewn- hearted at having reached the old age of youth; I assure you it is also the youth of old age.” From Sarah Tytler we cull the following: “There is no greater mistake than to sup- pose that youth is necessarily the choice period, the green spot of life; it is not often the cycle of peace. Do not dread growing graves, nor even growing stouter. With ripe maturity and the still, mellow decline of lif», are won, and often only then won, rest, peace, wisdom, content. ‘There may be a great garner in’ store for your future; there will be an abundant harv H cnly sow in grace. It is a half-pagan and wholly.amtrue notion to associate all bl edness of existence with rash, heady, cru youth. Fight the fight and run. the race; the older you grow the more royally you will prove the conqueror; the grander will prove y. ° Last, but not least, an anonymous news- paper clipping is offered: : “At Forty. Just in life's fair meridian height “Tween Youth's sweet morn and Age's night T stand, and thank God for the light! I know the sun and storm of past; I now that shine and shade will | But fear not, how fate be cast. For I have that which conquers fate= Hope, high as heaven; its shining mate, Pure Love, and Faith to work and-wait. And though I face the shadows far, I see, o'er Life's horizon bar, ’ That land where blessed heavens are.” Whether we have converted any reailers of The Star to the belief that old age 1s pleasant, respectabieand desirable We ¥hall rever know, but,we have at least succeeded in convincing ourself,that such is the fact. —_—_ 2-30 — A Sugizestion. From Life. ae ‘The doctorsiare now in distress Because of the objection Made by the pedple and the ptess To wholesale vivisection. nished days “A fresh But it would lose, I much suspect, A host of the objectors, If scence would but vivisect Some of the vivisectcrs. B) OF J. G. BL ee ae, From Life. r : te (FURRICR ASS Mrs. Growler—"I think we'd better move on if we don’t want our furs taken on storage. | | satin | very easily and for that THREE DAINTY GOWNS They Are Just the Things for Dano- ing Purposes. TO TAKE AWAY WITH YOU For Evening Wear at Cool Summer Resorts. PRETTY AND INEXPENSIVE Written Exclusively for The Evening Star, HE SUMMER BALL I gown is delightfully frivolous, with its gay fluttering ribbons and pretty, saucy ro- settes, transparent material-like chiffon or crepe de chine. Whe summer ball gown in appearance is sweetly simple, but deceitful, in that the price is most exorbi- tant. Whether worn by our bachelor girl of thirty or the debutante of eighteen, it is certainly stylish. Gowns of all periods of the world greet each other everywhere, thus making it a cosmopolitan gown. The most favored of all material for summer ball gowns is thc embroidered mcusseline de scie. In all the newest and latest designs, it is at its best when used in a graceful bow-knot. This light material, which comes White Satin and jove-Tinted Chifton in figures, dots and stripes, is forty-four inches wide, the regular price being about ) per yard; often the plain white mou: seline de sole ts used, and for its found tion a colored taffeta glace silk. Just the faintest suggestion of a tint beneath gives a beautiful effect. Another leader is chiffon, for evening gowns; plain, embroidered or change Overskirts of’ accordeon-plaited chiffon over r moire skirts are worn, but should unt of the material crushes reason, together damp he The Empire Gown. with the cost of material, makes It pensive luxury. Gauze ts often used as a substitute. Chif- fon rufes trim a gown very prettily, and come most exquisitively embroidered, and form berthas and jabots, unexcelled in neatness and beauty. A handsome gown of white satin, with a low-cut bodice, draped with clover-colored chiffon, and caught up here and there with bright-jeweled pins. At the left side of skirt a panel of a very glittering silver threaded material is outlined in chiffon.and is thrown over the skirt in graceful jabot. Vetled with chiffon, the short satin puffs, finished with the short chiffon ruftt con- stitute the sleeve: The appearance can be improved probably by carrying a large bunch of pink cloves tied with white satin m ex- Taffeta Silk Coat ard Satin Skirt. ribbon, the blossoms matching exactly with the slippers and long suede gloves. Crepes are also extensively worn, and make a dainty evening gown. The beautt- ful crinkled surface of the ice crepe is also very effective, being twenty-two inches in width, and retails for about $1.50 per yard. When worn with a moire or taffeta skirt this crepe is very effective and pretty. For an inexpensive dancing gown Egyp- tian crepe is very highly recommended; the width is the same as ice crepe, and ts about one-third cheaper; an additional advantage is that the material ts the same on both sides. This can be procured in all the new- est shades, the latest being bleuet, or corn- flower blue.This color is used profusely in the trimming of white gowns. Tulip green is also a new and favorite color, and a very faint greenish-gray brown, as jade, is ex- tensively combined with other colors. Yel- low, in almost every shade, ts the correct {dea, as are also the ever-popular cercise and old rose tints. For the younger girls dotted swiss gowns made up over lawn or silk, and profus with gay ribbons fluttering to the breeze; in fact, most summer gowns are incom- plete without them, and as shoulder straps, graceful braces, which continue below the waist line and then float off at the back in long streamers, the end of each streamer to weighted with @ rosette, The newest ribbon is the Dresden, which comes in Dresden coloring, and have the effect of moire, and are strayed with blur red blossoms. the biack ribbon. An Other much-used ribbons gauze, striped gause and 17 —= ideal rosette can be made of moire and satin-striped double-faced ribbor Buckles are as popular as the ribbons,and are used to fasten the girdle of an empire frock, ornament waistbands of satin, to hold up drapery, and for shoulder rosettes, where they are poy ge handsome. Glit- tering pins are also u: in fusion. The rivals of supremacy in design this Season are the moire and taffeta silks. The latter at twenty-two inches wide range in price from $3.60 per yard down to $1.25. Something exquisite can be gotten with moire taffeta with chine effect. The swiss taffeta is something new, having much the appearance of glace silk. A charming evening gown of figured peau de sole can be made at a cost of about $1.25 per yard. A pale green Pekin moire antique shows a int design of carna- tions, with just a faint touch of silver, makes a bewitching gown. Taffetas, with the pompadour effect, are best sulted to Louis XV dinner coats. Taffeta, sprinkled with blurred violets, makes a gown equally suitable for dinner or dancing gown. This gown is made to show a cascade of ecru lace in front, with large gilt buttons at the waist line. A skirt of cream taffeta is worn with this coat. It ts quite the thing to have one’s slip- pers le of the same mat as the gown, unless the material be too light and fitmsy, in which case suede slippers are worn, Sixteen to twenty-button white suede gloves, occasionally finely stitched with same color of gown, are worn. ———-ree. A WOMAN'S CITY. Carlo Developments From the Vital Statistics of New Orleans. From the New Orleans Times-Democrat. The present census, just published on this point, confirms previous statistics and pre- sents the problem again to us—why is there such an excess of women in New Or- leans, and what is there in the climate or conditions of life here that makes it #0 favorable to the so-called “weaker sex?” The figures are as follows: Males. Females. Sirgle ... 70,003 70,618 Merried 38,246 89,421 Widowed .. 8,412 18,202 Diverced ill 238 Unknown - 6 Total 112,467 = :128,572 In these figures afe a number of myste- ries which it woul be interesting and val- uable to explaii if they are expiain- able. It shoul be said first that the census is taken at a time of the year (une 30) when there are probably more women absent from New Orleans than men—women away at the watering places, whcse husbands are at home at work—so that the actual excess of females is greater than the figures indicate. Again, this excess in New Orleans ts steadily increasing. There was an excess of 3,005 men fa 1860, The female excess was 10,800 In 1570, 14,204 in 1880 and 15,105 in 1890. It cannot, therefere, be pretended, as previously claimed, that it is due to loss of iife in the confederate service during the war, for the excess of females is of re- cent date, and the equality in the sexes was greatest immediately after the soldiers urned from Virginia, Tennessee and the ‘Mississippi. Finally, it should be feminine excess is peculiar at outside of the city, in jana, there is an excess of males, and that the men are more numerous in Texas, Arkansas and thrcughout the southwest. The birth records show an excess of | males born. Among the children the sexes | continue about equal, and it is only when manhood and w: hood are reached that we see the glaring disparity that prevails. Grenter Male Mortality. A striking feature of the vital statistics of New Orieans, which to some extent ex- ; Plains the inequality of the sexes, is the | fact that there is a far heavier mortality | among males than females. The difference | is so great, particularly among the whites, | as to seriously affect the population. About | thirty males die to twenty-two females, | making the mortality among the former 36.37 per cent greater. The chance of life In the so-called “weaker sex” is more than one-third greater, and the average woman lives more than one-third longer than the average New Orleans man. We doubt if any other civilized community can show this remarkable difference. It 1s possible | in a land where a war is raging, but not in @ peaceful city. Emigration will not explain it; nor will the old theory of the civil war and the men lost in battle, for the female excess Is grow- ing greater the further we get away from 1 The mortality tables indicate that there is something in our climate or mode of life which affects the sexes differently. Ordinarily life insurance companies do not care to accept risks on women, but they could take them here at premiums one- third lower than on the men, and yet make | money. Is it club life? or the fact that the men of New Orleans live higher? Is ft that the climate is better adapted to women, or that the men expore themselves more? Is it_because so large a number of women go off in the summer, while the men remain at work here, which explains this remarkable disparity? The married man who looks at the figures will discover, to his discomfort, that the chances are about six to one that he will die before his wife. Perhaps this may induce him to be a little more careful of his health. A Steady Increase. And what, finally, is going to become of New Orleans if this excess of females con- tinues to grow larger? Here are some striking figures of the change which has taken place here in thirty years: Percentage of Total population. Males. Females. 2.18 48.82 S271 53.13 pulation keeps on in- as it seems likely to do with the present relative mortality of the sexes, New Orleans will become in time a city of women. As to the social, indus- trial and economie results likely to follow this condition, we leave it to others to im- agine. There fs no precedent io go by, as the situation is abnormal, and has never prevailed in any other American city. No- where in the world are there so many wid- ows, old maids and women doomed to single blessedness. Boston may equal us in old maids, but for widow whether by death or desertion, and for a general ex- cess of unmarried women, New Orleans “beats the world.” see. | Quite Unsympathetic, From Texas Siftings. Birdie McHennepin and her brother were at the seashore. “Oh, see tha’ exclaimed Birdie. ‘See what?’*inquired the stoical John. ‘Why, see that little cloudlet just above the wavelet, like a tiny Jeaflet dancing o'er the scene.” “Oh, come; you had better go out to the pumplet in the back yardiet and souk your little headlet.” ° From Harper's Razar, —“But, mademoteelle, isn't the hat just @ ilttle too small?” “Ah, no, my lady; conzider ze trimmings!” 5 = iA NARROW ESCAPE Written for The Evening Star. One cool September day a small party of confederates could he seen wending their way dewn the dusty road that leads into the little town of Warrenton. And from the tred look of the men and the steaming sides of the horses, one could plainly sce that the cavalcade had ridden fastgund far, The company were a party of = rang- ers, and at their head rode their chief, | Mosby, on a black stee%, while the rest of the men trotted on behind in a leisurely manner and made the air ring with their jests and gay songs. It was true that the enemy might come In sight at any moment, or that scme stray bu®et from a foe hilden in a bush might cut short the laughing werds on the merry lips, but familiarity with the horrors of war had bred an easy indifference, und these men, though éally facing death, thought no more of their danger than if they were riding to a picnic in some neighboring grove. It was just about noon when the party dismounted at a farmhouse. And in an tn- Stant the jolly rebels were the center of an sdmiring group that crowded about them, and the cager host hastened to bring out for their entertainment all the good things that his larder afforded. The men were hungry, and, seated beneath the huge oaks, they were soon discussing the relative merits of the buttermilk and fried chicken with which they were plentifully supplied. But time wore on, and the men, forgettul of its passing, sought refreshment in a doze on the grass beneath the trees. A sudden cry of “The Yankees are com- ing” rang out on the still afternoon air, and the confederates sprang to their horses just as @ party of Union troops dashed in sight around a bend in the read. In a moment the rapgers had leayed on their steeds and galloped out of sight dcwn a narrow woody jane that ran near the barn and partially ccncealed them from saw the Union troops charg- at the gate, which was only a few dred yards away. It was too late now In the parlor, which opened into the hail, @ young lady sat sewing and her quick wit took in the situation at a glance. “Here, step in this clock case,” she hur- riedly whispered, as she threw cpen the door of an immense old clock that stood ticking In one corner of the hall. And in a moment Mosby had squeezed himself into its dusty recess, By this time the Union men were dis- mounting, but before they entered the house the lady had seated herself and was quietly sewing. The Union officer strode into the rcom and looked anxiously about. “Are there any rebels concealed in this house,” he demanded in a loud voice. “Mosby's men were here a while ago,” she replied, “but they alt escaped as your troop came tn sight.” The officer glance@ about the room a his quick eye caught sight of a man’s soft felt hat thrown carelessly on a chair. “Seareth the house,” he ordered of three men who were’waiting hi8 commands. | in a moment the men in blue were | swarming over the “Rotise and poking into | every nook and corner, They commenced | 8t the garfet, seatching"tach room closely us they descended, and the rattle of their | sabers could ‘be heard @istincily in the | ball below, as they tramped about, throw- j ns open clobets and upsetting beds. Presently ajl gatheredeim the hall and vere disclssing in a disappvinted tone their fruitless seeegh. Every monrent seemed an eternity to the | fanger shut up in the hot, dusty depth of | the old clock, and the warm air had grown almost unbearable. Yet he dare not move, for only a.few feet away he cou plainly hear the ahgry tones of the Yankee officer, and the least motion meant capture or death. Slowly the moments dragged on,and still the men lingered. Finally, the occupant of the clock felt an | uncontrollable desire to sneeze. And realized the fact he broke out in cold perspiration at the horrible thought. To Prevent it was something beytmf his con- | trol, but a sneeze would surely be answered by a bullet through the ook case, and the ranger felt he would prefer the danger of | facing his foes in an open fight. Suddenly a bright idea came into his mind, and just as he bent his head to sneeze | he gave a pull on the pendulum that sent all the wheels whirring in a loud confusion, | The Union men: glanced suspiciously at the noisy timepiece. “I am afraid that clock needs mending,” remarked the lady, carelessly, as she turn- | ed down a new hem in the linen on which | she was sewing, and her quiet voice dis- armed suspicion. With sigh of relief Mosby heard the officer command nd Presently the gallop of their departing rse-hoofs fell on his delighted ear. And scarcely had the echo died ‘ay when the ock flew open and the e: sted prisoner ee out in an almost suffocated con- ition. A merry laugh had the ranger over his narrow escape, but in all the dangers that he faced during four years of bloodshed | there were none that iried his nerves like the terrible half-hour spent in the old clock case. . 5. M. A GIRL'’S SUBTERFUGE. it Failed to Work and She Was Very Sorry She Tried It. j From the St. Louis Republic. How pleasant it ts to an honest person. | to see some of the little modern shams of society punctured! A young woman, who | flashes and shines in a certain clite coterie | of the West End, deserves sympathy, be- cause she has been caught fn the fashiona- | ble act of playing the hypocrite. I heard this story from a reliable person. The young society belle’s picture recently appeared in the society columns of a loca! paper. Her numerous associates compli mented her in the M6st°approved style, but to their surprise she professed to be quite angry over the ld fact of see ing her picture in ublic prints. She detested such vulgar lay—so she said. “Why, some wmean.pholograp her has given my photo to that paper ithout my per mission!" -exelaimed the jung woman “Oh, my! Oh, my! I co stand it my- self, but“what will. mamma6ay when sh: hears of thi And ‘the "young woman. pretended to go into paroxysms of fashionable hysterics. “Ww, were you, Isshould go down to that photographer's studio and find out by whose authority your'picture was giver to the paper,” suggested a young woman, who was one of the party-of friends. This sentiment was generally applaudei by a half dozen lady friends, and finally the young belle was almost coerced by the force of her friends’ opinions to visit the photographer's studio, However, she professed to be quite anxious to make the visit herself, too. The upshot of it was that the young society belle and a half dozen of her tady friends came down town and called at the studio. The photographer was out, and @ young woman was in charge of the office. The young society woman carried out her bluff, however, by unload- ing a tirade of abuse upon the head of the office girl. “Well, no photos are given to the news- papers by us unless we have authority to do so," eeelly replied the office girl. “You never recetved any authority from me to give my photo to any newspaper,” replied the society belle, her eyes snappitig re. The office girl, in the most cruel and de- liberate manner possible, pulled a note from @ pigeonhole in her desk, and handed it to the society girl for perusal. It was a note from her mother, ordering the artist to fur- nish the photo to be used by the news- paper. The mortification of the young society belle was pitiable to behold, when cne of her companions said, In a stage whisper: “Oh, my! What will mamma say when she hears of this?” eee Helped His Own Sex. Prom the Chicago Record. “Have you done anything for the social freedom of woman?” asked the lady with eyegiesses. “No'm,” said the judge, who sat In @ivorce cases, and was @ cynic, “but I've e | heap for the emancipation of maa.”