Evening Star Newspaper, August 25, 1894, Page 16

THE EV ENING STAR, SATURDAY, AUGUST 25, 1894-EIGHTEEN PAGES. MWesigns and S997 e@ slon &Fov pretty Aouse gowns bee aa ‘Written Exclusively for The Evening Star. HE PRETTI- I est. compliment I have ever heard paid her husband, and this is what it was: “We always think of her as a morning glory, because she is always so bright, pretty and cheery at ble.” I wonder of | how many women this can be said. How many, many breakfast tables are presided over by mothers, wives or sisters who do not even make the pretense of having their first toilet dainty and pretty. The usual apology for this personal neg- lect is that household duties keep them from kcking their best during the early hours of the day, but this excuse is tar from being a good one. If it be necessary to lend a helping hand in the kitchen a big gingham apron will effectually protect the daintiest dress, and, then, with a little system and care, cooking is anything but @irty work. The housewife who is carzless xbout her morning xown or who considers an old, Perhaps wern out, dress gocd enough to @ppear in at the breakfast table commits @ great error, when it is remembered that the men of the family, though too chivalrous or good natured to make audible criticisms, are so keenly appreciative of all the pretty little “extras,” especially when the particular little lady who wears them happens to be “queen.” Don’t re- serve your entire stock of choice gawns and quaint fixings for the evening, when shaded lights add thetr beautifying effect. Look bright and sweet in the early morn- ing sunlight, and see how much it will be @ppreciated by the home folks. The “Early Gowps.” Durine si saMfiér tizse “early gowns” ul ol cotton; during the rest of the year of light woolen goods. For the lest Cashmere is the best, and its width makes it less expensive than almost any other material. In color let it be light or bright, but above and beyond all else it must be . Don't have sulky-looking browns, dismal greens, or blues which seem to in- dicate a depressed mental condition. Should @ dark color be desired let it be black, brightened with collar, cuffs and belt of a contrasting hue. However. quite dverlook- ing color and material, let the general effe=t be as charming as possible, designed with the particular object of making you look young and pretty as you preside over the coffee. Caps ang Aprons, ‘The English fhatrons, of every age and condition {n life, are very fond of wearing little breakfast caps, not a regular cap, you know, but just a bit of lace with two or three coquettish loops of ribbon. They are invariably becoming, and give a touch of dignity and dainty elaboration which ts very charming. Should an apron seem desirable it must be @ white one of cambric, nainsook or lawn, and ample enough to cover the entire front of the dress skirt. The frivolous trifles which fashion dignifies by the same name gre reserved until later in the day. For kitchen wear the proper dress covering is of blue and white checked gingham, reach. ing the edge of the skirt, and meeting at the back. wita a bib, designed for protcc- tive, not decorative purposes. A kitchen apron should never be worn into the dining room, or, indeed, any place outside of the realm devoted to culinary accomplishments. Drop it when you leave that room, and with \&t all knowledge of what you have just left. Striped agham. Of the several pretty designs selecte] for the illustration of this article, there is no prettier than that shown in the first sketch. The material is blue and white st girgcham, the kind which may be bought in ary of the dry goods stores for 12 1-2 certs a@ yard, with turned-over collar, cuffs and certral fold of white duck. The belt is of white canvas with buckle ver. of oxidizel sil- ‘The general design is so simp y a few general remarks are nece complete description, The } has only the shoulder and side seams, making a slight fullness, which is Grawn i to the belt. An odd but very pretty feat-| to a woman was by | the breakfast ta-/| | should fit out bones, will feel quite as loose as any one | tre, is the fold cf white which is used to cover the opening of the bodice, and which forms a secure closing for the buttons. The skirt is moderately full all around, has a six-inch hem, and in length quite escapes the ground. A Little More Elaborate. The second drawing represents a pretty gown, somewhat more elaborate in its gen- eral effect than the first. The material is derk blu th the tiniest of white stripes running throuzh. The bodice is cut Ferfectly plain, having only a very slight fullness at the waist. From shoulder to shoulder, but tapering from there to the belt, are bands of white insertion, one inch in width. The stock collar of white em- broidery and the embroidered shoulder fi‘lls are the only trimmings. The belt may be of white or blue canvas, and the sleeves are pretty when finished about the edge with a band of insertion. A tiny square of lace, caught at the back with a few loops of scarlet ribbon, gives tne last touch to as pretty a toilet as one could find. Comfortable and Easy. The third sketch is particular!y com- fortable and easy. The square yoke is ot embroidery, with high coliar ani central feld of deep insertion. The original model was made of white pique, with a tiny pink crescent. The embroidered trimming had a white ground elaborately worked in pink, a pale rose-colored belt with pearl buckle, and a tiny lace cap, trimmed with rosy ribbons, completed the dainty but unservice- able outfit. That is, unserviceable for the busy little women who have to “fuss” about and keep things moving in an orderiy way; but the design is 1 simple one. eusy to make, and delightfully tidy and artistic in Modest Black Lawn. ‘The next gown is a Quakerish little affair in black lawn, with neck ruffle, girdle and sleeve cuffs of white India linon. It would be dificult to find a more simple or gen- erally inexpensive dress than this, and the pattern itself is invari=bly satisfactory. For cool weather nothing could be prettier than this pattern, developed in black or dark blue cashmere, with tritamings of scariet silk. The Favorite Wrapper. Now for that gown which we are ali glal to get into once in a while—the comfort- able but usually unsightly wrapper. The one shown is a pretty cross between that @arment anil the tea gown. The Hning closely, and if le witho The sides are cut on a de- 1 show a full gathered front 1, either cashmere or silk. t open, in the French fash- ion and bas a deep scilor collar fastened ia front with a gé us bow. All sorts of pretty materials may be made up to ad- vantage after this eattern, and in usiag t the only word of caution I shall give is, don’t wear it about your housework. a eels TYPES OF THE WEST Senora Sara Hoars Some Shooting and Listens to Tales. SCENES IN A BRAND-NEW TOWN Result of Holding Five Aces ina Mining Community. THE FUNERAL NEXT DAY Special Correspondence of ‘The Evenin: EL DORADO, Arizona, August ANG! BANG! ‘Two shots so quick- ly following — each other that they might have been but one wakened me trom a sound slumb Bang! 2-i-p. A third went spitting through the air over the car in which I lay. Bang! 8-i-n-g. And the fourth shot went spinning off over to- ward the hill that I could see dimly outlired against tre borizon in the moonlight. Then I heard a woman's seream. Long and shrill end full of agony, followed by muttered curses and the sound of blows. It was just In the edge of the evening, and the sunset glory had scarcely given way for the full moon riding so majes- tically up the eastern sky, when I was startled by pistol shots. I had beon ex- plozing the adjacent hills in company with the young Lanes most of the afternoon, and, being tired, had thrown myself on the bed immediateiy after supper, and bad fall- en asleep. The day before had nearly worn me out. I have known physicians who recommended a sea voyage for people af- flicted with a tcrpid liver, the sea sickness and general shaking up being considered particularly beneficial, They co not say anything about whether passage is to be steerage »r first cabin. I fully believe that a sure cure for torpidity of the liver—and for life as well, if long enough continued— will be found in a fifty-mile trip on a board- ing train. It is all steerage. I never found anything as rough in all my travels. I know one woman who always takes out he: false teeth before essaying a ride on such a train. She says she ts afraid of cracking the plate. Mrs. Lane managed to prepare dinner while the train was moving, because she is “used to it," I presume, as she tells me each time I exclaim over the, to me, odd things that are all the time occurring, but which did not disturb ner equanimity in the least. learned something new about liquids—to my so:row—or that short trip. I wanted a drink of water, und all the Lanes were in other porticns of the train at that particular moment. I S afraid to take the hose down as I had seen th others do, so I pushed a chair up to the tank and climbed up with a tincup in my hand. It was a perilous venture, but by clinging to the tank I managed the feat. I found the wocden water bucket ing around in the tank. I thought to do Mrs. a favor, so fished it out. I had just touched the flcor with both feet, when an awful lucch of the car sent me headlong. against the iron tank, and at the same time I was drenched to the skin with about five gallons of the precious fluid, which shopped over. Gasping and stunned, I lean- ed against the side of the car to get my breath, and just then Mrs, Lane came bustling in. “Dear me! How did you—why, did tumble in the tank?” she asked, curio as she hastened to get me a chair. I t her that {t seamed as though the tank had tumbled on me. The Safest Place. “It must have been an awful jerk that splashed that bucket cut,” she said gs she peed ft Up and ren barks fh the tauk. he car would have been deluged in a few moments. As calmly as possible, I asked her the philosophy of a bucket in the tank, and she replied that she used the bucket because it was handy, but that a big fiat board or a butter bowl would wer gs well; and that with something of that kind in tng yank very little water would splash out. ad learned something, though the information cost me a Véry pretty French gingham, ruined by the impromptu shower bath. A little later, I lifted the lid to look at the dough that was rising so nicely, and nearly went headlong into the bread trough. Then I sat down. It seemed the safest thing to do. I was sea sick, and ached in every bone in my body when that train vas shoved in on a side track, for tae men to eat their dinners, while the con- ductor waited orders. By the time we start- ed again, I was rested, and as I sat in a rocking chair In the center of the kitchen car with the wide doors on each side push ea back, and Robbie and Jinnie Lane close by, to tell me the points of interest, I be- gan to enjoy the novelty of the trip. Some- times the rocky canons shut us in till we could just see the sky above us, and then the valley widened cut, an] in the desert of sand a green spot would stand out with a few s! ‘zling cottonwoods about it, and we would know that a spring of pure wa- ter gushed up there. No painter’s ralette ever held more va- ried or brighter colors than one sees among the “paintel rocks,” and tall weed flowers with great heads of bloom just the color of purple that Mrs. Cleveland so loves to wear flu: their perfume right in our faces as the train dashed down the grade Star. 1804, uu tossing the bending stems rudely apart, as they nodded together over the roadbed. At the horizon’s elge there was a broken chain of mountains, like the leaves that éncircle « pcinted plate, and in between there ‘were voleances long ages extinc but before their fires went out the coun- try was inundatel with blick lava, which, cracked, and fillel with gruesome caverns, is as uncanny a place as the eye of man ever rested upon. “A section out of sheol, was what Gen. Sherman called these “bad lands,” and he seems to have been singu- larly happy in his selection of titles. A Brand-New Town. After five nours of bumping aiong, va- ried by spasmodic efforts to rescue bits of loosened kitchen bric-a-brac from an en- forced exit at the open doors, and a wild seramble for young Lanes, whose unsteady legs ied them perilously near the same danger, the boarding train was sidetracked in the edge of a little place called El Do; do. You won't find it on the map; it is too new. Two months ago it nad neither hu- mans nor habitations. And now—well it seems to have something that answers for both. Some on2 grub staked an old pros- pector, ard one day he came in wiih a tiny peper of gold nuggets! He said the hills were “lousy” with such! it was enou ard in a week El Doraio was a tul! fiedged town, and you could get any “pisen” you craved, and play any kind of « game. There were ro houses. Houses are not a necessity in this country; residence in any place is only a matter of pleasure-in which the community seems to have the largest say. Tents are “plenty good” as the deni- zens put it. And so it Was a town of tents from the first. Dust and sand hal had emall chance at these when we took up cur residence there, and it locked as calm and peaceful as a Surday school picnic ground, when we were shoved in on the “shvo fly” amony the pines that towered above us, and were ranged like green clad sentinels about among the white tencs. The simile ended when the run went down. |'There had, however, been no overt act of lawlessness to disturb us, until the second | evening, when the four shots broke in on | my slumbers. As I sat up in bewilhlered fear—I had | seen the flash of the powder when the last | two shots hurled by—Mrs. Lane came bust- ling in, worst Is over,” she said before I could speak. “Don’t be frightened.” “What might the worst be?” I asked with chattering teeth. “There was a row at one of the saloons and they got to shooting. There was uo- body hurt much, I guess. If you feel afraid to go to bed—" she went on hesitatingly, | “you might come in the kitchen with me. = I have to bread and pies tonight.” Tired as, I was, I felt that my own com- pany was not at all a desirable thing just then, and 9 ] followed Mrs. Lane kitchen- ward. I saw that I would not indulge in much sleep while the excitement kept up outside, and as the walls of the car in which I slept would rot be any more pro- tection aginst bullets than so much pa- per, I felt, as though I'd rather sit up and be ready to run. In the kitchen everything was as clean as a recent scrubbing could make it, dnd there was a roaring hot fire. The Seamy Side of Life. t is m¥ night up,” explained Mrs. Lane. “We havetto bake the pastry and bread at right, because I have to use the oven near- ly all day; so I sit up one night, and Mr. Lane theonext.” I glanced at my watch. Tt was 10:30. “Do you sit up very late?” I atked, “It ucually takes till about 1 o'clock to get through, unless I have an unusuaily large baking; I will be till nearly 2 getting done this time.” She had been on her feet since 4 o'clock that morning, yet there was not even a whine in her voice to show that she tired. She hed some apples to pare for nd while she was preparing the crust She placed my chair pies, I pared the apples. beside the oren door, where I could ‘see the i town, which stcod just outside of the right of way of the railroad. Black forms were filttingly silhouetted against the white canvas in the bright moonlight, and I could hear most of the talk that was going on, as well as the monotonous cry of the men who were raking in silver at the wheels of fortune, high ball and other games. Even the clink of giasses came to me, musically borne on the night air, as they rattled at the bars in the half dozen saloons. Off at the left through the opposite door I could still see the rim of mountains against the cloudless star-gemmed sky, and in between lay the narrow vailey flooded in the white moonligit, and fiecked with black where scattering pinon trees and scrub oaks stood. The conirast between the peacefulness on one side and passion on the other made me feel creepy, so I began to ask questions. Naturally, with my mind full of the shoot- ing which had just taken place my thoughts turned to the seamy side of such a life, and I asked Mrs. Lane if she had been witness of many tragedies in her wanderings. “Not many, thank heaven!” she replied earnestly. ‘We are not often as close to a town as this. The railroad company pre- fers to have the boarding train side tracks laid half a mile or more from the town be- cause the mon all drink, and if the saloons are so far away they don’t always care to go to them; and if they do they get drunk and stay there, end do not come back to bother us till they are sober. Strange as it may seem, they do not quarrel much among themselves, unless they get drunk. I re- member one very sad shooting Scrape,” she went on, coming to the door, where she leaned wearily while she talked. “We had been stopping at Isleta junction, repairing a bridge, and there was a row over cards, which ended in a shooting, and a young gir! was killed. There was a pitiful story of wrong and parental injustice, and the poor chiid was not to blame for the life she was forced into. Everybody up and down the road knew about it, and all united in exesrating her hard-hearted old father. Parents are not always careful early enough in Ife of the associations and com- panions of their daughters, and if they per- mit scoundrels to be intimate friends of themselves they must expect the friend- ship to extend to members of the family. The Usual Result. “Under promise of marriage, Elise was lured away from home. Her wnfall was very rapid after she found tha} she had been duped, but her father cast Her off, so she ch.ng to her father’s friend, Avho was her betrayer, and who fled after(the shoot- ing, and left her still warm b&dy to be taken care of by strangers. We/ were or- dered to Albuqverque, only afew mites , and as we were just abéut ready to go some of the gamblers came and asked that we bring the body to town. It was such a pitiful sight to me when they brought the pretty child and laid her on my bed. Less than six months before I had seen her, as light-hearted as a bird, singing about her work in her father’s rose garden She was only sixteen and had no mother. While she lay in the car a great many came in to look at her, and just. before starting a big, handsome fellow, on whose good looks dissipation was telling in an in- dellible w came in and stood a long time looking at her still, white face, peaceful and pretty in death, as theugh she had never sinned. I had to go to the kitchen, and when I came back the man was kneel- ing beside ise, with his face buried in the bed clothing. I slipped out and left him, for I felt sure that he was the man who vould have made an honest wife of her if she had not made a mistake and gone off with another. When I went back he was " byt there were tear drops on the Saxen cheek. ‘About daybreak the next morning, as we lay in the yards in Albuquerque, the seme man cane and asked to see Elise aga Mr. Lane let him in. He only re- mained a few moments, and when he came out his face was as white as the dead girl's. He zar7e to me and laid a roll of billg in my fends, - a “You Sée that she kas a decent burial,” he said, haskily, id with evident suffering. “She ought to have been my wife, and I've settled all scores now, and have a right to dictate what shall be done. Get her a white dress and flowers and plant her in the best lot on the hill yonder. If anybody objects to her going in among the big bugs, you tell ‘em the curse of Big Bob will go with them through eternity. That'll cinch ‘em. Have all the carriages in town and make her funeral look bigger than his. They'll probably plant him about the same time, if there's enough of him left to make a corpse.” And then he jumped off the car and disappeared. When we went into town to arrange for the funeral of Elise we learned that her betrayer had been found in his father’s house, with his body so full of holes that he might have been used for a target regimental practice. ‘The dogs were dead and the servants drug- gel when the body was found. Shortly after returning to the boarding train, some train men came along carrying a covered burden, and before they asked leave to place the body in our car I knew that it was Big Bob who had thus elected to fol- low the woman he loved. With the money he gave me we buried them both “up on the hill among the big bugs.” Such trage- dies are not infrequent, but that was the most sorrowful one that I ever witnessed. This is a hard country on women,” and then she went back to her pie crust. He Weld Five Aces, I finished peeling the apples and gave them to her, and sat for a moment Iisten- ing to the sounds that came from the tent- ed town. Songs of doubtful melody, frag- ments of loudly teld stories of unsavory character, the shuffle of hea feet in a cleg dance, laughter—it all came to me as clearly as if I had been in the midst of it. But above it all I felt sure that I heard the sound of a woman's voice, sobbing, and smothered groans. I began to wish that I had never heard of a boarding train. It was all so uncanny. In the half light giv- en by the little kerosene lamp, the long narrow car, dingy with smoke and black with long, usage, looked so cavernous and gruesome, and my little hostess seemed so far awaylas:she bent above the bread trough pounding and patting her loaves of bread intg shane, that I actually got afraid, and got up to go closer to her, and to get away from those great yawning doors which seemed to take in the whole outside werld,; “The top, ay the evenin’ to ye!” I heard at my side just as I turned, and with a shriek I ed over my shoulder to see a man wkh*his unshaven face framed in a mat of :tangled hair, which his brimless hat did nat begin to cover, and with a red flannel shirt. turned well’ back from his sunburned; threat. He had a short pipe between his teeth, and his bare arms were folded onithe car floor. If the face had been an unkindly one I think I would have fainted fram fright. But though rough, I could see, even in that uncertain light, that his mission was one of peace. Mrs. Lane came to the ddor at once, and I dropped into the chair from which I had just risen, What is wanted?” she asked. “Females!” he replied briskly. “Bill Carr passe in his checks awhile ago along of holdin’ five aces, an’ the wife av ‘im is gricvin’ the heart out ay ‘er. There ain't none o her kin’ in camp, an’ I allowed that you bein’ up an’ uppers could give the pore crayther a bit of comfort like.” Too Much for Indian Steicism. Mrs. Lane looked at me in dismay. pies are in the oven, ani the bread will be ready to go in as socn as they ccme out. Could you tend to them for an hour? Some- body ought to go to Mrs. Carr. She is a timid creature, and must be heart broken, for she love] her husband, bad as he was.” With my heart in my mouth, I consented to take care of the pies and bread, and saw Lane depart with inward trepidation. not a coward when I'm on my “own rvation,”” as they say here, but the plot was thickening rather faster than I was able to follow. I had just turned from the red-hot stove with a steaming pie, when I heard the “ugh!” with which I am getting tolerably familiar, and looked up to see a blanketed Indian standing outside the door motionless and picturesque in the moon- light as a piece of sculpture. ‘What do you want?” I asked very brave- ly—apparently. “Heap, much hungry,” was the response from the statue. I had but one thought, and that was to get rid of him as quickly as possible, so I stooped and held out to him the red-hot ple. With a grunt of satisfaction he reach- ed for it, and then he let go of it without any help. Talk about an Indian being a stoic and standing pain without flinching! That Indian gave voice to a yell that Gabriel would do well to emulate. He ex- ecuted a war dance, and murdered English fluently, as he tried to express his con- tempt for a woman—a white squaw—who would play such a contemptible trick on a “heap good Injun.” And all of the time I vas as guiltless of any effort to injure kim as the baby in the other end of the car. It was just about a minute and a half from the time I attempted to dispose of Mrs, Lane's pie till half the town was cir- culating around the boarding train, but my statuesque Indian had fled. “Has the redskin been a hurtin’ of you none?” asked one of the crowd as he leaped into the car. I assured him that I wa: unharmed and very sorry for the disturb- ance of which I had been the unwitting cause. I explained the situation as well as I could, for 1 was ready to scream with nervousness, and he then offered to clear the crowd away and staad guard until Mrs. Lane's return. He sat on the edge of the floor in the door for an hour or more, and whistled and sang, never offering to speak to me, and I tended bread and pies, and wondered how long I could endure life on a boarding train. Yet Mrs. Lane, as 1 knew by that time, had been as tenderly reared as myself. Mrs. Lane did not get back till after 2 o'clock, and I was putting away the last pan of sweet-smelling bread. We went to bed at once, for we were both worn out. Wanted a Guide Book. At breakfast the next morning Mrs. Carr was Mrs. Lane's guest, and immediately after the work train went out the arrange- ments were completed for the funeral. The poor faded little wife did nothing but sit and sob and sigh. But there was no call for her to do anything else. The denizens of the tented town made every effort to give the murdered gambler a “good send of,” and he had the best that could be raised for him. “There ought to be some flowers,” sug- gested Mrs. Carr timidly, so Jinnie, Robbie, Nellie and [ went out and gathered some of the tall purple flowers and a few wild ver- benas, and she seemed quite satisfied when they were disposed about the cheap pine cofttin, with its geudy gold-plated mount- ings. The grave was dug cn the side of a hill, and a pine cross was chopped out to put at the head. One of the dead man’s friends wrote the cpitaph: “BILL CArr his grAve. he wAs took Sudden bUt The Angles Needed HiM woRse THAn Us.” The funeial services were held under the pines beside the open grave. Mrs. Carr had been taken to the spot, when one of the gamblers came rushing breath- lessly over to know if Mrs. Lane had a “Cross and crown guide!” “Do you mean a Bible?” she asked. “That's whatever!” he replied. “We ain’t got no parson, an’ we allowed that some of us could read a piece if we had a guide book. 1 reckon we ough’t"have some singin’,”” he added, hesitatingly. “We ain't none of us much on singin’ plantin’ tunes, though.” He waited a minute, and then said, half pleadingly, “Would you mind lettin’ the girl kid sing a bit? It would cherk Bill's wife up a lot. She's been used to havin’ things done in style, you know.” Mrs. Lane locked worried. “I don't like to let the children come in contact with this sort of thing, but for that poor woman's sake, I think I will let Jinnie sing for them.” Ard so it happened that above the dead gambler there were flowers and singing and a sermon. Jinnie, simply and unaffectedly, sang “Jesus, Lover of My Soul,” and as her childish voice floated out beyond the pines and died among the hills I thought the dear old tune had never had a sweeter rendering. Then one of the gambiers came and whispered to her and laid the Bible in her hands. She turned a little pale and said to her mother that they wanted her to read. “May I repeat one of my lessons instead?" ehe asked. A_ tender, loving clasp of the hand and a nod reassured her. With a little quiver in her voice, she re- peated the Sermon on the Mount, then bowing her bead she repeated the Lord's Prayer, and from among the men came a murmur of voices taling up the long-for- gotten words. The poor soul sent all un- ready to judgment was past all help, but the tender words were a fort, t9 the wpe wpe beg, fquoyed he, fortuhes intervened. How much women can suffer and yet be strong. And what models of heroism these pioneer women are. SENORA SARA. To Secure ita Obedience. From Harper's Basar. of One great secret of good discipline is not to require too much. Recall how irksome the commandments were to ourselves when we were Mttle. Remember what sorry little plagues we sometimes were to our elders, and be patient with these rogues of ours. Govern by principles, not laws. Where possible, keep your hands off. Better too great freedom than too little. Give a little loophole for disobedience. When the daugh- ter goes to spend the afternoon with a friend, don't mention the precise minute for her to return. The constant fear lest she may be five minutes late will mar the visit. Say, rather, “Be at home in time to meet papa with hands and face washed and hair brushed;” or, “Remember your music lesson at 5." Then, should the little girl be a few minutes late, it is not dis- obedience, and punishmert need nt darken a sunny afternoon. “Better not” wili secure obedience with- out punishment, when “must not” and “shall not,” attached to a threat, will often fail. Unless self-government is taught, pa- rental discipline is imperfect. Let the children fecl that they are neces- sary to mamma and papa as helpers, com- panions and confidants. If you have a growing boy, take his arm when yeu walk with him, and make much of his strength. Unselfish love cannot be widely severed from obedience. And finally, you must be interested in all that interests your children. Never be too busy to listen to long tales of happenings at school. Try to be radiant over the good times coming. Half of a child's happiness consists in anticipation. A promised treat next week will keep up a pleasurable ex- ¢itement that will color with rosy hues the ordinary humdrum life of every day. From Harper's Bazar. If the children have a hobby, let them cultivate it In their summer holiday time. Grown people have hobbies, and children certainly have an eqval right to a similar indulgence, a hobby standing for a special taste, talent or even a fad. Sometimes a child's turn in this or that direction toward amusement is a straw indicating better than the school work can in what he will excel when it ts an affair of choosing a pro- fession or business for life. We ought to regard as sacred the individ- uality of every child, and the aim should be not to round and snip and shape and mold our children until they conform to a pat- tern we admire, and are as nearly as possi- ble like other children of their age and sta- tion, but to let them grow in the manner Ged meant fur them,a manner distinct from that of their neighbors and sacredly theirs. Often a blundering and self-willed father eteps in and makes havoc of what would have been a beautiful and happy life had he only let his child alone. The musicians who are set to shopkeeping, the farmers forced into preaching, the doctors sent into offices and the future clever business men made to waste their time over violins and pianos are irstances easily found of parental ability to rake stupid mistakes and cling to them ob- stinately. The children’s vacation should be a long play spell, not a period of half play with a few lessons cr extra studies thrown in. When school begins again the little ones, and the older on °s, too, will do better work and improve faster if they have had a real true holiday. We older people are apt to forget the in- tensity of enjoyment which ts compressed into a_child’s day. The child is care free now. He will never be so again. Every- thing he needs is provided for him. He does rot lie 2wake over investments, nor worry over debts, nor tug anxiously at two ends of a scanty income, determined to make them meet. None of these things disturb his peace. He can be radiantly happy, and he should be. ———— Papa (reading)—“The naturalist, who had slipped fron. the edge of the precipice, gath- cred momentum as he fell.” “Mercy! Kept right on picking to be killed!"--Puck. when he knew he was going | times when it is to be worn it is not be- ‘HOUSEHOLD HINTS Some Practical Suggestions About Preserving Fruit. HONESTY THE POLICY WITH CHILDREN Good Cooking is the Basis of a Happy Home Life. ————____ AS TO PICKLED HASH Written Exclusively for The Evening Star. Porcelain ketiles are best adapted for preserving fruits and making jellies, and flat-bottomed, rather broad ones are to be preferred because they will sit more levei on the stove. All fruits for preserving should be boiled rather quickly, that the watery particles may exhale at once, with- out being subjected to a long process of cooking that would spoil the flavor and color. On the other hand, if the fruit is rot to be preserved in air-tignt cans, it wil! not keep well if it is not well cooked, so it is necessary sometimes to sacrifice a little of the delicacy of the flavor for the sake of having the fruit keep well. Let everything used for the process be very clean. Never place the flat bottem of the preserving kettle directly on the fire, as it will be sure to burn the liquor and fruit unless you watch it all the time. Clear off the scum as fast as it rises to the top of whatever fruit you are cooking. Fruit which is to be preserved in sirup must first be boiled gently, until it has suffi- ciently softened to absorb the sugar, and a thin sirup must be poured on it first, or it will shrivel instead of remaining plump and becoming clear. The weight of the fruit in sugar is the right proportion, and this should be bviled to a sirup with a pint of water to the pound, but only half of the weight must be taken at first, and this must not be boiled with the water more than fifteen minutes at the commencement of the process; a part of the remaining sugar must be added every time the sirup is rebolled, unless it should be otherwise disposed of in the recipe upon which you are working. Never use tin, iron of péw- ter spoons or tin skimmers for preserves, as they will convert the color of red fruit into a dingy purple, and often impart a very unpleasant flavor. Never use an in- fertor article of sugar; it is a false idea of economy, as there is great waste from the scum thrown up. Do not skimp in the pro- portions of sugar used if you want your fruit to keep well. Not enough sugar in your jelly will keep it from congealing and it will be “runny.” Not cnough in the preserves will render them liable to “work.” Quart jars are best for preserves, half-pint cams for dey, . So many people lose their lives through their clothing catching on fire that it seems to me more thought should be spent on what to do in such cases. Particularly are women in danger from working about the stove. The first thing to do is to try to keep your presence of mind. Then re- member that fire cannot burn without alr; So to exclude the air is the next thing to do. It is really a better way than pouring water on one’s clothing, because it takes a long time to drench one’s clothing thor- | oughly, and until one is wet all over the fire keeps on burning. The minute you find yourself on fire lie down and roll; roll hard. | If a rug or bed quilt, or any large article of clothing is at hand, roll yourself up in it. If a child gets on fire, catch it to you with the fire next you if possible, and lie down with it. Wrap your clothing around it and roll with it. The rolling will draw the clothes more tightly to the body and exclude the air. Above all things, when you find yourself on fire, do not run, as that creates a draft, and do not st: up. Throw yourself on the ground the first thing and then—roll. . * 28 You may deceive the little one once, even twice, perhaps, with the bitter, nauseating dose that you offer it to swallow, with the assurance that it is “good,” or “sweet,” or “nice,” but the third time you offer it) yoy wil] find that the lie has served its tum | and you must seek another. The fesson Is learned, however, and the child has come to doubt your word. He will be suspicious of your sincerity about everything after that, and perhaps you will never be able to restore his confidence. Is it worth while? Do you think you really gain anything by telling your child an untruth to save your- self a little struggle, which must inevitably come come time, because you can’t possibly hope to go on lying. It is very poor policy, yet one that a great many mothers resort to. Surely they would not do it if they understood for one moment how the little things were learning to doubt mother's word. When a little two-year-old child is told by its mother that she will whip it if it does a certain thing, and it stops to look up in her face to see if she means it, then it time to put into action some of the oft-made but never-meant-to-be-put-into- action threats. Unless you mean to punish a child, don’t threaten it. It will surely grow up to doubt your word. ‘ . 8 A girl who deliberately marries without understanding the art of cooking is commit- ting a—well, the law of the land does not call it a crime, but the unwritten law of the home certainly does constitute it a crime. Especially is this true of those in modest circumstances, who cannot employ efficient cooks. Burnt fingers, sour bread, scorched roasts, leathery steaks, wishy-washy coffee and disordered stomachs are not conducive to the happiness that one imagines the honeymoon should be filled with. There are so many reasons, logical and philosophi- cal, why cooking should be included in the accomplishments of young girls that it is useless to enumerate them. Good - ing is the basis of happiness, health and success in the home life. One may thor- oughly understand art, music, architecture, science and philosophy, be familiar with astronomy, mythology, the mysteries of evolution, politics and literature, yet if the chemistry of a loaf of bread has been neglected the education is sadly incom- plete, so far as the “house mother” is con- cerned. - 2 © ew Pickled hash! That sounds perfectly aw- ful, doesn’t it? But it is an excellent dish. Chop your bits of meat quite fine and put in a bunch of chopped celery, or any such relish as you may like, one tabl spoonful of home-made mustard, one ooo . aie = on butter, one tea- spoonful of salt, half a ieaspoonful of = per, and two hard-boiled eggs chopped 4 Mix the ingredients thoroughly, lay sliced hard-boiled eggs over it and pour half a cup of good vinegar over it. 7 2 8 There is no royal road to good manners. They are acquired like any other good habit, by the constant repetition of single acts. If they are merely the veneer of a coarse and selfish nature, they will give way under pressure and show the texture of the deal underneath. If they are the lish of a mind trained in all gentle, kind- ly, unselfish ways, full of the charity that thinketh no evil, they will reflect the very light of heaven. “ 8 I saw a mother spaak her baby the other day just because she was out of temper herself, and the little thing annoyed her slightly, so she turned on it in a fury and whipped it till it sobbed half the night. It is all very well to punish a child if it really needs it, but be sure that you do not need a sound whipping yourself before you whip your baby. oe ew The word “becoming” {s used, populariy, in its most superficial sense. We say a hat or gown or a coat is becoming, meaning only that it improves the wearer's appear- ance. The real meaning, the synonym of the word, is “suitable,” and here a new light is brought to bear upon the word. If the hat or dress is not suitable to the wear- er’s age or position in life, place where and reveals the nature of a woman as the way, she dresses. It is the keynote of If a woman attires hersel are remarkable for their colors and pro- nounced in style it is strong evidence that she is not gentle or refined. No gentle or refined girl ever seeks to attract attention to herself by clothes; no gentle and woman seeks to attraet attention to herself by any means. She wins by her character, To dress unbecomingly is an evidence of ignorance of what is suitable, a want of artistic qualities—a certain element of coarseness. It would be humilieting to a true woman by nature to find her repu' tion based on her fine clothes—her qualities of heart and mind all hidden by the cut, color and stvie of her clothing. It is a great question whether a girl possessing real qualities of heart and mind ever be- comes noted as a Gressmaker's model. So to dress becomingly one mest be dressed suitably, and to do that one must consider, first, one’s circumstances in life; second, the fitness of the attire for the occasion; third, that the dress does not overshadow the wearer. No matter how little or how much the cost of one's clothes, they can always be artistic, harmonious, suitable and becoming. + © @ . A charming mother, Who believes that her boys should be amused, has invented the following for her three restless little ores: She had a carpenter meke of hard wood five dozen sticks, half an inch square and a foot long. Then she had him cut as many cubes of various sizes. She had the long sticks painted, one-third red, another third blue, and the Yemainder white. The blocks were painted any color, and some not at all. Her boys amuse themselves by the hour building rail fences, sheds, barns and houses, dividing up according to color and buying and selling to each other. They have carved for themselves a little engine, and one has really developed architectural talent. They have a box to put the biocks away in, and are made to attend to that themselves. _. 8 8 If you want your children to be cour+ teous you must treat them with respect. They will infallibly copy your manners, 80 you mist take care that they are the best. You should be as careful of their feelings as you wish them to be of the feelings of others. When it Is necessary to administer reproof, let it be given in private. Most children are sensitive on this point. It in- jures their self-respect, and they feel acutely, thovgh t are not able to ex~ press it in words. tell a child in public that it has been rude, or lacking in good breeding, is as unwa:rantable as it would be to tell a guest so. It is no excuse to fay that you are trying to make it do bet~ ter. You can do this much better if you take it aside at the first convenient oppor- tunity and gently but firmly point out what the error was, and what should be done on the next occasion. You can callous @ child's conscience hy goo rigid discipline, @ 7 ¢ . > Here 1s a bit of Holland's superb common sense that every woman ought to read: “A woman who deals only in superlatives,” he says, “demonstrates at once the fact that her judgment is subordinate to her a millincr’s window as are employed to do justice io execution of Beet- hoven’s most heavenly symphony. Let me irsist vpon this thing. Be more economical in the use of your mother tongue. If a thing is simply good, say so. If pretty, say. so. if very pretty, say so. If very fine, say so. If grand, say so. If sublime, say so. If magnificent, say so. If splendid, say so. These five words all have different r-eanirgs, and you may use all of them on as msny different objects and not use the word perfect once. That is a very large waa” °*°. Qubeae Bright silver and glass and unsullied table linen are splendid appetizers. A smiling face at the wife's end of the table will make the plainest viands palatable, if they are well cooked. —— One Way to Kill Crows, From the Cincinnati Enquirer. “They have a novel method of killing crows in Georgia,” said T. F. Homer at the Grand. “Grains of corn are pierced, and through them is inserted a hair from the tail of a horse. These grains are scattered in the field where the crows are in the habit of coming. When the bird swallows one of these grains the horse's hair prevents it passing into the craw and irritates the mouth. The bird rolls over, turns on its . Scratches to get it out, but to no purpose Death results either from strangu- lation or, as is frequently the case, from the wounds inflicted by the sharp claws. The crows gather around the victim, but, although they are of an exceedingly sus- picious mature, they never attribute the trouble to the corn.” II—“Stepped must excuse m« IV—“Excuse me! Didn't realize that wag your nose.” V—“Excuse me! Did I cause you to fal} coming or suitable. Nothing so thoroughly | with « dull, sickening thud?”