Evening Star Newspaper, August 25, 1894, Page 17

THE COMING STYLES| %" A Season of High Colors and Rich Fabrics Predicted. —— FUR AND LACE WiLL BE FEATURES neti Red Appears Among the New Im- portations and So Does Purple. FLARING DRESS SKIRTS arene Mritten Exclusively for The Evening Star. S«= WAS FIXING the bows on her bon- net In the newest “single plant in a hil” style, as I walk- eiup tothe veranda, where she was si ting behind the pretty awning, in her misty white morning gown, with chiffon and silk, ribbons and rabbits’ ears lying around in the ham- mock, on the ta- Bouret, on the floor, and piled in the chairs. She was singing at the top of her not un- musical voice something with a refrain that ran “When the skies are dark, and the days are drear.” 1 paused to watch her deft tingers for a moment, and to enjoy tho charmins picture she made, with the bright colors heaped about her, and the sunshine Sifting through the leaves at the end of t* Veranda on her fluffy @ark hair. The e own she wore was remarkably neat, and <0 Iack- ing in “fussiness” to tease ths “ya yer it wade her look like a “lity ma”, 5 as it fell in soft folds around her as ee Seoch wheres wumming under her Geet are Mien ses “skies are dark, and the “You don’t, yo, or dreary dar the .ste,3_ W.T™much about dark skies I called at last, as I went bless your “ear heart, dark days come to all of Sometimes. We Wouldn't love the sun- ie so if we never hat anything to make us miss ite I'm having one of my dark 's right this minite,” she rattled on, as she swept aside a lot of chiffon, and gave | made in such elezant me a chair to sit on. “I am getting ready to go away for a long jaunt through the west with my aunt, and papa fairly para- lyzed me a few days ago by remarking that he could not spare me another dollar for clothes, as times were so hard; and that if I insisted on more new gowns I could have them only at the expense of the trip. Now, if you can imagine anything that will a girl's skies any more effectually chan that, I'd like to know what it is. No, didn’t cry,” she asserted indignantly, em- hasizing it with a jerk at the ribbon, “which broke the thread and undid ajl her - “Xou-know I don't cry over’ such ivolous things as that; but it did make me feel awful blue. I know one thing, sure. ‘If dad goes broke,” as the Bowery song Says, it isn’t into a millinery shop that I'll 0 to help him retrieve his fortunes, as the girls alvedys do in’ summer literature. I ai shining success as a trimmer, I fear.”* held thé “bonnet up again, eyeing sore te wk didbond. ‘al bit of French millta- embittered the day for me any Seon sw bea ne : starched lef aro my hew iow, I wonder,” laying the Bahect wn to clasp her knee, nder If they don’t have gloomy days look @ rest of us after all? They al- oo) ad serapkic, but you needn't bs | 4 that those immaculately stiff hea ae don’t. get contrary, just as my white ts and things do, and scorch or won't hold starch, or get too much bluing in them =. hot enough, and come out looking like ey had been dipped in coffee. Human nature is human. nature, and there are Ss when the best regulated peopte think t the world ts turned topsy turvy. So, after all, E guess I'll stick to my French styles. There qmere_variety, “and when one*thing absofutély refuses to come out right I can weap something else. This be- ~ eof thé days ‘when my skies are ba more senges than one, I concluded to myself a rainy day bonnet. Nurse used to sing mea seng that had a line in ff about ‘things out of season, trouble out ~ph zeae,’ and I begin to think that it is use of the utter unsuitableness of mak- ® rainy day bormet when the skies are zen, and the mercury on its high horse, The Traveling © Mint Petimot nike this match the bonnet fm my mind's eyes, There goes that piece f chiffon and she scurried after it, giv- dng me a chance.to see the gown she wore. *4_ was dotied swiss, made empire style, Where was a plain, tight, unlined waist of the swiss that came Just to the beit lind, Kirt was made of about five widths of he si ae swiss, ungored, and gathered evenly all around, and was fastened to the waist, gust a little below the arms, the opening ing to the left of th@ front. The bottom Of the skirt was finished with three inch- ide Tufttess made very full. About the ihould rs was a fylk suffle of the swiss, twelve*inches wide, and edged with very w Valenciennes,lace. There was a Sarie ruiffé around the throat, with lace wom each edge, and the full bishop sleeves Bad an edzing of the lace at the wrist. “You are thinking my dress is pretty, ¢ said, as she came back with the chiffon, it is, just ae comfortable as it Is pret - it has all the freedom of the Mother Hub- |. without its slouchiness; the inside aist keeps it from hitching up all the Gre. and then if F want to ba ceremontous a belt or a I am proper I have it on ick uy n Yor a walk down the avenue. ugh fora Wi wn Michio up a bit of ribbon, she we | flung the ‘bonnet on the bed beside THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, AUGUST 25, it around her waist, and, presto! she had on as neat a garden party dress as, you ld_wish to see. And no adjusting of gathers, elther, for it is put on the waist so evenly that it falls naturally into place when the belt Is fastened. “Come see my collection of gowns,” she said, catching up an armful of the milli- nery. “I have not many, but they are the latest out.” And so they were. The travel- ing cloak had just come home, and lay on top of the others. It was of silver gray cheviot, a very fine quality, which is much recommended just now for both traveling cloaks and gowns. It was made with a princess back and loose double-breasted front, with two rows of mother-of-pearl « The Walking Dress. buttons. The long double cape was lined with soft gray silx aod trimmed with: darker shade of silk sovtache br: odd little fancy was the t the corners of the cap with this is a “ark ¢ a lined with blac! , >. Net an atom ef tr.mmii fastel sted it, and ed double br. wit mother BeATi Dart “That ts to b rainy day dress,” she said, as she Inid 2 bat she had been af. eit work on down jas alWays rs such a gowa wien cut on 3 te) gor it has_ng trimming to toa> or dust. It is ag i ~ Pose. this, jl fees t2*” dea at iast. Just puil fos over as you please While 1 -st, before it gets away. a: 4 sat down on ihe e: to pin on the trim the other dresses. I looked at ‘There was on of] creation in black and heliotrope. The bodice and sleeves were of black taffeta, and the rselet skirt was of hellotrope evicuna, with ‘rimming of, black braid. The ‘hetiotro) de a V in front of the bodice, and t ekizt, which fitted closely about the hips and back, had a remarkable flare at the bettom. waiking dress, of almost J shortness, was made camel's hair, and had ruffles of the green an 4 a glint of red in it. The bei brown velvet, and there were s' Vet over the shoulder holding the of green, and velvet cuffs. it was a stri! ing gown, yet 1 did not like it very =~ If the rufites had been biack lace O° pise “hack it would grenadine and the velyst have been much pr ing at isthe “uy eveniug frock I'm tak- » 8h° “aid with her mouth fuil of pins, 88 “le saw me pick up a gown of dove gtay satin from the bed. “You are not to laugh at the ‘oid woman’ idea of my s mg such a shade either. 1 can puli the blue ribbons off, and put a different lace arrangement about the neck and make another dress of it, with another color of ribbons. ‘There Is ; of pale green moire, and some gr bows in that box over there, and I have a set of perfect- ly gorgeous red ones.” It was-an extremely hand satin Was so thick and s e dress, the » and it was simplicity, as comes ruch material and such a color, The skirt had an application of tine old lace a foot from the bottom, and the long blue satin ribbons extended down the front ait; x The Evening Dress. were caught up on the Jace in big Bow The game lace formed a_square-shap bertha about the neck, which was oniy moderately low, and the sleeves were oddly caught up with pearl buckles. The gr ribbon cash was made to tie in baby fas ion in the back, and the red one arcund tae waist in empire fashion, and fell to the foot in front. There were sev- eral handsome bodi worn with black sille K lace s ‘out they were »4( new. je out of rags, = om ner put it, as she triumphantly the traveling dress. “I've got it at last. J knew I could, if I would only think about it hard erough. These are my house gowns,” and she cpened a closet door and showed me half a dozen lawn and white frocks, all simply made, and most of lies 8 self-trim- med. But on the whole [ thought she had a very fair lot of gowns “for hard times.” As I left, I heard her still humming, “When skies are dark, and days are drear. Dame Fashion has not let go any of h secrets for winter styles as yet. It is sa that bright plaids, both in wool and velvet, will be much worn, and fur will be quite as popular as ever before. Fine galloon and gimp will also be much used. They will ve a suggestion of both gold and silver In their designs, though it is not promised that the two metals will be as largely used as for several seasons past. If looks as though lace would be’ us right on into the winter. It is of every color and every texture, and is worn on ul- most every garment. Just now, a gown is searcely considered trimmed that has uot some lace upon it. So far, there is no change fn the dress skirts. The favorite style, and the one most worn in London and Paris, so the latest advices say, is the old-fashioned bell, made to flare very widely. It is described as falling. in waves at the bottom, and ts very full in the back. There is no trim- ming used on the skirt of such a dress, ex- cept it is narrow and flat, such as passe- menterie, soutache or insertion. The round waist remains the favorite, mf for stouf, Women, whode nat Wee ths Thon waist, theré afe elegant princesse — coai waists that are quite long,and can scarcely fail of giving the stcutest form more grace- ful lines. It will he quite the thing to have long, tight-fitting, black satin coats to wear with everything thts fall. These coats are particularly elegant when worn over tailor- made skirts of fine cloth, which, as a’ gen- eral thing, will not be black, but quite often of some bright color. Black fabri¢s of all kinds wii! be much worn, but black san white in combination is passe. A reddis brown, quite a dark shade, will be one of the fashionable colors, and hunter's green bids fair to be another popular shade. Red is to be most popular of all, it Is thought by importers, and five distinct and handsome shades are already shown. Various shades of purple, new shades, with less of the pe- tunia that is so atrociously hard on most complexions, it among the new importa- tions. Everything goes to show that jt will | Tec colors and of rich brics, B) B. A pretty went | 3, which were to be | 1894—EIGHTEEN PAGES. ONLY FOR THE RICH The Toothsome Terrapin is Becom- ing Scarcer Every Year. —e— T? 1S NOT LIKELY 10 BECOME EXTINCT They Are Raised on Farms for the Market. ee FOR TERRAPIN STEW - oe Written for The Evening Star. VERY YEAR there is a scare through the eastern country, and parttea- larly in New Yor! Philadelphia, — Balti- metre and @Vashing- ton, over the porei- bility of the extine- tion of the terrapin Sometimes the report Is spreal fa the win best re os: times it g ser or tt fall, when > fisherme cM rocnding of Chesa are boing no sale for the te: the thrift [has Bee ete jin a pes <. fy tvo ort! ncise is at rapin is 0 th> sonth, some that eight of-ten years is not too Much to give a baby terrapin, and_no one claims that a marke¥dble terrapin can be ’had within less ix years from birth. More attention is paid to this subject row than ever beforg,” and, doubtless, in a few years, as a resujt $f the commercial ex- periments being ca: ‘on in several places, we will have some ble data. Terrapin Farming. Terrapin farming—that is, the “planting” of terrapin, as it woulq be Rnown in oyster terminology—is not 5hy any means new. About twenty yearsaga a man named Dor- lon established a tgnrapin farm, or pound, just below Mobile, where he kept young ter- rapin for growth, andawhere he claimed to be raising terrapin from the egg. The fish commission 1eportsy showever, say that he was not breeding. The great storm which swept over the gulf a couple of years ago destreyed this farm. it was, so far as is known, the pioneer. The next pounds were ablished at Roanoke, Va., and there is a large pound at Roanoke Island today where scme attention is being given to breeding. But so little was known of this work in the nerth that less than six years ago, when an irquiry was made by some one in New York of the fish commission of the state, as well as the dealers in terrapin in Fulton market, their reply was that there was no ich thing as terrapin farming. Benjamin st cf Fulton market said that he had heard of raising young terrapin, and had tried It-in Sarewsoury river unsuccess- tay. it ypearea unat from AAD OBKN which he put in his inclosure he got 5,000 youas terrapin, waich rapidly escaped, and usted him with the experiment. His fon brougitt out the experience of a an in Maryland, who had come upon Dor- s farm by ciance, and had profited by Robert C. Lowry. He cs- J below Kaston, Md., water so dis stream ran gut tne ts by aw ine“ neiting. anda half acres in dally tay igo 8 y ETON are taken out and? sold. ivoa ta bre 1 that the terrapin though it is b r every So says Mr, Cho”, of the fish wevés that the so} tom ts to he found ta terran n nn OW carried on to plaecs, It is wel! the consolation of- Stevenson, for the terra- st Toney > wi fi | son. no: an ov opty | at that vr , a time no one but a | United States Senator will be able to af: | ford terrapin stew. | S Modern Tas | Tt is a matter of common report, but not | of recorded history, [ believe, that-Wash- » and Lafayette and Cormwe'lis i new the Juxurt of terrapin. Provably they ate it uot ag a luxury, but r lack of sore\hing “better” to eat, and from their unfortu- + it the cvup was .5 valtete teX%e the trouble to gather. more than was needed for thi! tobles -- EB votighor or Syeretary the “famous and the = on-Bulweg, iryat 16 bay an’ ox load of them Uren shovetol inte his Phis te r terrapin pin, and he us*f’ for’ $1 and bave cellar like coals: state tradition. Before 184% ther> was no commercial de- mand for terrapine aware, North and Virginian Carolina unmotest home ¢ the peopie preclate the io cof the terrapin stew and the Chesapeake. fishermen begin | to bring ia io market. They were | negroes y who hunted for terraph and the ne are the greates: terre: hunters todtys dine isin! North man invented a dredg> c catching terrapin-more expeditiously; and four years later. hearing that the pe of | the middle Atlantic states: were cultivating the terr te John 1, 1 him fo rétuz which he soll in Baltimore for 8 Prosperity nearly pre terrapin in Nerth Caro- alation turned out exterminated | the terrapin business was suspended |a the war, mt it revived eeain ir | 4:46, and it has’peen brisk ever since. All of the terrapin grounds have been over- hunted and it is a wonder that any of the terrapin are left, ‘Hunting, too, Is ‘not the | only agent in the work of exiermination. | The re@ fox has a great fondness for terra pin esgs, and he has, destroyed, them year after year in great quantities.’ Evidently the way to preserve the terrapin is to pro- tect the eggs and Hmit the number of full- eon terrapins taken-in a-year. This can e done successfully by private enterprise. ‘Fhe Costly Diamond-Back. The terrapin is found only in Amerien: It occurs from Long Island sound to Texas, and some terrapin ft# found ni the Pacific coast. The northern, terrapin, are considered the finest. They develop more slowly than the terrapin of the south,’ and their flesh 1s finer ant more delicate. The best terrapin grcundg are along the Virginia chore, just below. the mouth of the, Patomac. «Virginia furnishes about one-third of all the terrapin found in the United States. Maryland's crop fs about half that of Virginia, but it. brings @ greater revenue because the terrapin are much finer, North and South Carojina :to- gether send us almost as much terrapin as Maryland, but its value, is much less. The Texas terrapin industry has been growing steadily for a number. of. years, but the Foxas terrapin are not valued very highly {n the north. New. Yaris, New.Jersey and ‘onngcticut together do not produce more {han 12,000 pounds of tegrapin jn a year, and thg yalue of the product is nat. $5,000. ne costly - terrapin..is the Marytand “diamond-back,” with an under shell more than six Inches long..“‘The six-inch’ tebrapin are known as “counts.” ‘They are consid- | ered the most desirable. After them are the | “heifers,” which are between five and six | inche: nd last are the “bulls,” which are under five inches in length. The “bulls” are taken in large rants for terr: “bulls” at $1 to $2. dozen. The great differ- ence in value between the small and the large terrapin led to the establishment from encourage f 1,90, | $350, 2 capts | ed the death of Ui | wh» runs a at [ar it if forcibly and! referred to it | ‘There was once a Inw ) The terrapin fishe: John MM. | ot, so geviliar ecpeng his peo- | s heen handed Jown as a | ond they: swartied in | , that. | jing in th Y | pars h ef the P. 1 ypars ago by ¢ of staamers between Wash- imere. He has several acres nt where a creck runs Into His feyce is sunk ten to twelve -s in.the mud tg prevent the terrapin ome. It 8. Lewis, ton | inclos | the river. and Ba owing out,, Mr.cLewis is exp my obreeting, He! haynot ace mp'l hai yet. Capt. Jonn iusiey has a small p near Waterville, 0 Md., and ear Criffield. Many of the pens e the terrap n s been ecndned dur- ns for many rted into is found the harden Yershell; terrapin, their feet and and these terra- s9 salable as others, of Maryland, the only terrapia farma is one at Atlantic City, ran by a vamed Gardner. “f course there is no diffi catching the dom-stie’ terrapin; ‘bat methots of catching the wild terrapin many and curious. Along the Maryla siore they are cay knSwn alty about the an the mud where he expe ‘pin, and if he hite -3 = tain localities in the Chesaperke “and its | tributary: cteeks where the terrepin crop ts constant, and itis generally syppose? | that there are warm springs at the of these creeks which’ attract tis MN §0 Suiid that his-les broae off with ap when handled; and yet whea he was thawed out, he’ was as lively as—well, not as a cricket, for no terrapin is so frisky as young man living on ‘Tangier hd related to Mr. Stevenson a story of terrapin catching Which is odd eneugh to be interesting, even’ if it seems a little doubtful. inthe direction of a cove, with his head under water as far as possible and ouniy his hand showing conspicuously on the urface, and as he swam he made 4 croak- noise. The terrapin would pnt. their heads above water to see what the strange nelse meant, and befere they identified him he had them by the neck. This heart- less imposition on the trustful terrapin is watched near Beaufort, S. C., where the negroes set fire to the swamp grass so that the warmth will deceive the terrapin into the belief that spring has come and so de- Jude him into coming out of his winter quarters. In North Carolina they use drags, some- thing like oyster dredges, for taking the terrapin from the mud in winter. In the summer season a funneled net, like a lob- ster pot, is used. During the spawning on the North Carolina man aetimes s the terrapiau up the shore with an intelligent uog; but this style of sport is much condemned, because the dog is apt to destroy the terrapin eggs. South of Cape Fear the fishermen use a seine, which they set, if their rapping on the boat brings any terrapin to the surface. This style of fish- ing is known as “bucking.” The negroes go about at night with torches during the spawning season and pick up the terrapin on the sand banks. This is called “torch- ing.” Dia eee ts Cofix the Terrapin, The orthodox way.of cooking the terrapin is to stew it. Mr.!Stévenson found the peo- ple of Tangier Isldp& with whom the ter- rapin is not a luxury,,making a potpie of It, There are many ways of cooking the ter- rapin. Sam Ward, ‘the famous American epicure, Is said to es delighted the Prince of Wales with a cular recipe. One of the best restaurateura in the country gives the following dirawtién’s for terrapin stew: Immerse the terrdpin in boiling ‘water and let it boll for twénty minutes. Remove the lower shell, cutting-away the meat from it carefully. Remove: gall bag and liver (beltig careful ‘not 6 break gall baa. Ww the gall bag awagi-and cut the liver into dice. Remove the aneat from the upper shell, disjoint and:place in stew pe With the pieces of liver and half pint éf the liquor in which the iste ‘was. boiled. Cook until tender, jeantime, make a sauce. Melt two ounces best butter, adl ene ouncé flour, one pint milk, season with salt, cayenne pepper and a dash of nut- meg. Bring to the boiling point, but do not boil. Add to the terrapin when cooked a gill of fine Madeira, udd the sauce, and serve on hot plates. The latest statistics of the fish commlis- sion on the subject of terrapin are for 1891, ‘They show that the total product .of the middle Atlantic states In that year was 157,- 081 pounds, against 237,108 pounds in 1ssv. The value of this take in 1891 was $44,018, The whole product of the United States in 1880 was 406,308 pounds, valued at $44,118; time to time of pounds of considerable size, in which the small terrapin were kept vntil they grew large enough te command a good price. These were the original terrapin farms; and Mr. Stevenson says that the idea of breeding terrapin is so recent that: he does not believe that a terrapin grown from the egg has ever got on the market: It takes a numberof years for the terrapin to mature—the number varying with the climate. Authorities differ, but it is said by ) ( \ | which shows that the product of the middle Atlantic states in 1891 was worth the whole product of the United States in 1880, though it was equal to only two-fifths of its bulk. This is a preity fair index of the increase in price consequent on the. increased de- mand for the terrapin and the decreased supply. Still, it will be a good many years before the wild terrapin disappears and the country is dependent on the terrapin farmer. GEORGE GRANTHAM BAIN, a farm at Hog 1 ht with rods and nets, | j the rod unui he can cateh it with-a net, | y which is m his other hand. There are cor- | was fond, of teria- | on tells me thet he hee seoq ene! He said that he used to: swim | At first he paid no attention, for he was that condition of mind when the doings THE STORY OF SUMMER MAN) =2stet srs. eee ee eens BY VIRGINIA NILES LEEDS. pre bier ae Copyright by the Irving Syndicate. (Continued from last week.) The Summer Man’s heart began to act as though he were out of breath. He stole closer. The girl suddenly arose to her feet, but still with her back toward Garland. There was not a shadow of a doubt left in his mind. No other girl ever had such a waist. She bent slightly over the man, and, to Walter's destruction of mind, held out a little hand, which looked very white and slender in the moonlight. The man seized the little hand in both of his and held it fast, then raised his face into the light to gaze up into hers. * It was Percy Montant. The girl was Constance. The-Summer Man turned rapidly away. He had seen enough. He cped down the hotel steps and out upon the asphalt pavement and went walk- ing or, at a great rate. Presently he found himselt at the curve leading to the un- pictureeque coal elevator and wharf. He kept straigat on along the cliffs, and trav- ers2d a quarter of the distance to Point Judith. He turned suddenly and trudged back as he had come. When he veached the coal elcyator his opinion of women haé pot changed in the least. They re © thoiocuchly beartless, scheming, Mg lot, feariag, he supposed, not God ly not man. 2 &) his mind to avoid Constance day. Hie stayed in the writing cntil it was bathing hour, and when haad got into his jersey he plunged head- into a wave, and began swimming sorously, hand over hanu, slashing the s tre way he feit like slashing some Instead of the corventional footsteps ch the hero at a critical moment always ars behind him, the Summer Man heard plashing, tle took a wave; ~ KY sere —~-une else took it vs anda fresh voice, some- ~8, and blowing the way the end most maidenly of whales snt blow, said behind him: always been taugh: that no—good is ever ran—after men, buat I've ver heard that it was wrong to—s' ter them.” : yeu were swimming after me?” taking slower strokes. ught up with hima. Her wet hair and face were caarmingly unconventional. “Of course I was. I don’t desy it. Here- tof-re you have always been > -a7'xg after Turn ahsyt ie ¢ pia : ter lovke? hes sy arcly in the eyes. 1, that was thc only Way in which he java p7s ‘d look at the little siren just then, for ly hes pretty bead was visibie, and even | her litde chia was submerged as she plow- ed slong at his side. “Miss Ogden, will you kindly tell me you have come after me--what you f e? ‘Vell, Mr, Garland, both of those might lled leading questions, but since we are i as a watery grave is yawning right under my pose in case I {need it, I think { shall answer them In the first place, I came after you > you did not come after me. What > 1 want of you? Lei me see. What %y 7 want of you? Oh, a great mo saings, Se jMauy things that I e72, vegia’ t> ten you, In the frst Teo"! Toni you to do all the -g in the feture. It is so much more aule, don't you know?” ut is your object in desiring me * you, as you put it?” And gain to lash the waves. | don’t splash so! I can’t cpon | Thank you, that’s better. Weil, ' land, considering that you have ; been running after me ever since we met, {I think I should be the one to ask that | E | 1 stim Siy S striking strongly out at his side. “I ran after you because I considered you a frank, sincere, warm-hearted little Wis beginning to fall in love you don’t think so any more and jarez ¥ to fail in love with me? Then T don't want to live. Good-bye, Mr. Gar- \ land. | Before he realized what she was doing, . he saw her throw her hands up out of the water. The next thing he knew she had disapry ‘el beneath the waves. i as horror-stricken, Keeping himself afloat with one hand, he aited until her head appeared upon the surface, whien it did in a moment, directly t of him. He clutched her sailor No!” she gasped, chokingly. “Don't Sa Let me drown.” | | Constance! Constance! — For heaven's sake what are you doing? Don't s 2 $9; you'll 4rown us both. Darling, Keep your chin up. If you don’t feel, » to swim just put your hand on my shoulder and I'll tow you in, There's a ged Metle girl.” The little hawd stole silently to his shoul- ‘i der, an] she began to assist in the pro- 42 way they retutned to shore. Until could touch bottom no word was en between them. nm they were dragging themselves j tarouch the breakers and the bathers, | Waiter said to her: “Come for a run up the beach.” She stopped a moment to wring out her dripping skirt; thea they started on an easy irot. When they were some distance out he calles a halt, and they stood facing one her. Constance,” he said, “tell me what on | earth made you do such a dangerous, such | a terrible thing?” re “Because you seemed to have lost your faith in me.” 1 me, on your honor, are you a per- ank, sincere, straightforward little girl?” And placing his hands on her damp shoulders, he gazed earnestly into her eyes. She met his gaze squarely, standing with her hands on her hips, and her broad sailor Mar dapping in the breeze. T am,” was all she said. And.somehow, in spite of what experi- ence taught him, in spite of what he had seen with his own eyes, he could not help thinking she was. I believe you, dear,” he said in return, keeping his hands still on her shoulde: “Now, tell me, Mr. Garland, as fra: as I have told you, what made you think me other than an honest, straightforward lite girl? T have never, since [ was born, been anything else, I assure you.” “Oh, nothing, nothing,” hastily returned the Summer Man, “I've quite forgotten it.” And so he had. “Very well, then, if the clouds have rolled away, let's have a race.” And off she started. CHAPTER IIL, Another week flew by. Garland was ready to swear that the frolicsome little sprite loved him, for she | anowea him to “duck” her whenever he wanted to, and told him her age. Her papa and mamma treated him gra- ‘liously, and Evelyn displayed toward him a sisterly regard. The Summer Man was thoroughly pleased with the family. The college-boy brother was verdant to an alarming degree, but he was off playing tennis most of the time, so the Summer Man was spared the pleasure of his society. Mr. Perey Montant never appeared in the famfly circle, and his name was never mentioned. ; = ‘Constance grew more charming every day, and her sayings were fresher than the fresheet of the breezes that blew across the bay, She even treated her verdant brother said Garland to himself. He congratulated himself over and over again that he had written to the heiress, and that the coast was clear. How proud he should ‘be to present the fellows to Con- stance as his fian $4, the fall. He was to meet nis little sweethreat at 5 that afternoon, and in order to while away the time from dinner until that’ hour he thought he would stroll down to the r He was in the gayest mood. No clouds had risen on his horizon for a week. He slung his field glasses over his shoulder to make out what crafts were about and who was aboard. Arrived at Table Rock, whose rugged gray surface was lighted up with micaceous sparkles, he climbed to its sum- mit and sat down. The rollers broke at the foot of the rock, and Walter sat dreamily listening for the report and watching for the shower which followed. Presently he became conscious of voices below him, over the brow of the rock. It was only a murmur, which was almost -jat his watch. ‘that I wned in the splashing of the breakers. lom xoul” Then, ywoxs be. | Why, | believe she love’ ntza when she had looked lutely no interest to a young man. In a little while, however, without any particular reason, for so doing, he moved his position s» that he could bend over the brow and leok down. aie crowns of two heads confronted im. One was a girl's and the other a man’s, whose hair lay as smooth as a polished surface. al The Summer Man was spellbound. The girl was just finishing off a sentence, and these were the words he heard her say, in a voice that was fatally familiar: “Haven't I made every sacrifice for you, Perey? Don’t you know I am doing every- thing in my power, and to keep it secret?” “I know it, Constance, and my life-long devotion will reward you, will it not?” The Summer Man got to his feet ut once and started off stumblingly. Scrambling aiong the uneven surface, heediess of mis- steps, he directed his steps to Indian Rock, from the near side of which an excellent view of Table Rock might be obtained. He must, he should see this treacherous part played out! He should be deceived no longer! Reaching a spot where he could be con- cealed, he got down on his knees, took out the field glasses from their case and brought them to bear upon a certain portion of the other promontory. Then the-e appeared to him such a picture as the knight beheld who got a peep at his lady-love through the wizard’s magic mirror. The scene which seemed to be drawn up directly in front of the Summer Man's eyes, ani which was reproduced in all its natural colors, was this: ‘The girl he loved, in a gay little blue striped frock, holding her hat in her lap, sat leaning against the neutral background of the rock, gazing with all her soul into the face of the men he despised, who was being over her. Both were seated upon a crimson shawl, which they had out, and his straw hat with its blue ribbon resting on the shawl completed a compact and attractive picture which would have filled any one but the man who was in love with the girl with admiration and a fine sense of the artistic in crimson and neutral tints. The glass brought the figures so close to him (hat Garland almost felt what they were saying. Montant was doing t*- was verv ~~ seiming now. He <ererst, Ani his gestures and spoke soul-stirring passion. Constance was iistening, her eyes never wandering from his face. When ne ceased speaking, she took up the thread and told him somethin; which seemei to make him supremely happy. ‘The glass chook so in Gariand’s hands that the erimson shawl the rocks scemed to be bobbing before him in kale: |doscopic motions. When he steadied him- self once more, Montant was hoiling Co: stance’s hand, and she, who had never ac- corded Gariand that privilege, was offer- ing not the slightest resistance. In another moment something happened which made Walter feel like springing from the rock into the seething waves below. Montant brushed aside the curling locks that strayed so prettily, and kissed Con- stance on her fair young brow. Walter sprang up like a man demented, crushing the tell-tale glasses into their velvod, All che artlessness and little-girl ways of maidea were nothing more th: 80 y tricks put on to decoy and to delyde, By Jove! She had played her cards we! he had actually Deca mad enough to up into Ws-eyes and told him she was not @ “lumimer girl.” ~ What a fool he had been! Great heay- ns, what a thorovgh-going fool! He, too, who had so often boasted of his complete comprehension of the sex! And in addition to all this he had lost the heiress. He went striding back to the pier, fum- ling, raging. By the time he reached his old friend, te coal elevator, quieter, more comforting thoughts began trying to shape themselves. Perhaps there was something he did not understand. She was such a dear little girl. Surely—surely, there was a ter- rible mistake somewhere, and he must not act rashly. She was too great a prize to icse through a blunder. In spite of everything that had happened ne Was ready to take ber in his arms. He noticed a figure ahead of him; it was Herbert, her college-boy brother. His usual anxiety to get rid of that young cub now changed into as strong a desire vo cultivate his company. “Hellow, Bertie,” he called. Herbert turned around. “Aw, chappie,” he replied, in that would- be-familiar manner in which a verdant youth rejoices to address a senior, “how's himself?” », So,” answered Walter, with as little scorn as he could manage. “Where are we bound for?” “Well, 1 rather think there is a pr'r of straws sprouting for me up at the Casino,” replied: the youugster in his most rakish manner, The Summer Man felt like holding his head under water for an hour or so. “Jolly good fellow,-Percy Montant?” said Vajter, ily. WGA Sow" dawied Herbert, "Why, d thought you liked him?” went ca ver. eo be.makes me tired!” returned the y. “Well, your sister seems to like him q good deal.” “ “a she does,” replied Herbert, ‘suppose “siace she's engaged to him.’ Garland heard ne more. Leaving the boy unceremoniously, he sped back to his hotel, which he had passed, and dashed upstairs to bis quiet room. He cast himselt down upon the rocking chair, stretched out his legs, rammed his hands deep down into his pockets and let his head droop upon his breast. After a time he raised himself and looked It was 5 o'clock, and that fact brought to his mind the recollection that he hed an engagement to meet some ene, who hereafter should be nameless, at that hour at the Casino. He determined*to keep the appointment. And as he shook himself together he re- solved upon his course of action. He Was not the man when smitten upon one Noel to graciously present the other— not he! The walk to the Casino was both real and strangely unreal. He felt as though he had come back to life and found everything just as he had left it, only himseif for- gotten. When he reached the Casino he peered first into the writing room. She was not there, nor was she to be found the whole length of the ocean piazza. “Why on earth should I expect her?” muttered the Summer Man “gp Bin “She's about finished me, I fancy!” But he did not give up the search, He bethought him of tennis. Perhaps she was looking om. Passing up through the ro. tunda stairs he stepped out upea the bal. cony which Overlooked the courts. ‘This balcony runs along the bell room’s length, gpening into it with long windows. The Summer Man leaned over the balcony and g.anced at the players; she was not among them, not anywhere to be seen, “What a fool I was to ex ig tngu aap ‘pect her!” he ter a while soft notes coming from the piano caused him to look through a win- dow in the empty ball room. There on the stage at the end of the room, where the .piano stood, sat a slender figure in a striped frock. He ‘stole noiselessly in through ‘the window nearest that end of the Toom, and —_ grishy tend steps which lead to wings s' side the vi any waretg. > Piano without Constance started, th mesma brightty- en, seeing who it Vhy, do you know, Mr. Garland,” oni, ee afraid you had grown tired "= . e first time y: been tate.” e you beve éyor -retiained: seated ©% the pian, standing over her, a “itter’ = me mre Sal iter expression on his “It must be very distressing to Ogden, to think I have tired Pg tina 2 have stired-of it, I assure you—tired of it thoroughly! I ave the Pier tonicht. I congratulite=you upon the game you have layed—a ‘professional could not have e ter! - Why, do you know—" nere his Yelee shook and bg swallowed quickly— when you looked up at me with your honest eyes and told me you were ‘not a summer girl’ I actually believed you. I honestly did, Only think of it! Yes, my lady, you came as near carrying off 4 scalp this time as you ever did in your life. Now jo and boast of it. Thanks very much for he pleasant times you have given me and good-bye. May your conquests continue! He stood With his hands on his hips, his fingers working nervously. Constance’s eyes never moved from his face during this tirade, She sat looking up at him, a crimson flush suffusing her cheeks. Whatever he may have expected of her =. was very much surprised at what she She arose to her feet, looking, for the nonce, quite tall and sweetly womanly. “To think,” she exclaimed with disdain, should have wasted any ts @ronping down upon the et 1 ‘ver in the world had man been so de- > ————= we ‘ 17 stool again, she spread her arms out the keyboard and her face. away, Mr. Garland!” he heard her say, “Go away at once! You must not see ery! And he wept a —went away with her sobs in bis” ears rejoicing in that he Jad paid one girl in om coin. When he aboard the evening, which was to bear Stoningto boat, -he dropped into the window and peered out into — Fte~ - Turning the tables on the little 4 iured. him om with her arch and fairy footsteps had not brought him the satisfaction he éxpeeted. Her still in his ears, and her little-girl voice, which she had kept up to the end, was telling him over and over again to go away that he might not see her cry. He was ready to cry himself. After. boarding the boat at 9 o'clock he sat down on a sofa in the brilliantly lighted saloon and tried to read. “Why, Walter, I thought you were stuck fcoster-than a barnacle at the pier.” It was Fred Duncan, in a fore-and-aft t shortly. Duncan sat down. him. “How do you to be leaving so sud- asked, pom 1g J ge ng tay nS wild horses Col yet.” = uid drag you away 3 aid a “I rather Pg 7] left your heart be- ene you, didn't you, old man?” went on “Yes,” said Garland, wearily, “I only es caped with my life.” “No doubt eongratulations will soon be in order,” continued Duncan. “Jove, Wal- ter! She's out of sight.” “You seem to know a good deal about Miss Ogden,” muttered the flesh. He was man enough, wo control himself. “~ “And no doubt has told you some verv interesting tales?” hesremarked. ” “Why, yes,” returned ~ most ideal, isn’* —<red. “She's al- “Al- ~ one? peveu” muttered Gariand. “Of course you trigue?” ed 4 “intrigue?” repeated Duncan. “I can’t say I do.” “Well, as it will be all aver town tomor- row, I dou’t see why I shouldn't mention it, You know Moptant? Dall feliow with plas- tered hair?” Walter nodded. “Pefiaps you're aware that the parents are down on bim-ihink the daughter too young. Weil, as Percy tells me, he and she | have been engagel since childhood. She is old enough now, so he says, not to be treat- ed like @ achooigiri,yet ‘whenever she speaks of matrimony they threaten to take her abroad. Recently, a fine position was offer- ed to Montant out west, naturally he accepted. ‘Then contes “the ‘bitter thought of parting with his little giri, Both are un- ee ‘Separate, of course, and beg the parents’ immediate iby row one girl will’ have made another per- fectly =e “And Evelyn has done all of this for Con- stance?” “ “Why, no, you owl! Constance is over . * The néxt morning, as ston as landed, ‘land drove-to the"Grand Central depot. fore many hours he was back again at the Pier. _ Herbert, who was not aware he had been @way, wondered what it meant when, hap- . pening intoa secluded corner of “Cupid's Ares " that evening, he overheard his sister saying. “Of course it $$ simply horrid of y: but, somehow or other, Waiter, dear, T don't seem to love you any the less for it.” The end. Cod “AMERICANISMS” IN SHAKESPEARE, British Crities Seem to Know Little ican. Not only has the ld. world an unpleasant habit of shipping its offscourings of hu- manity to cur sM6r®@® and then jeering at them as. “Americans,” Dut that part old World from which *we get our is altogether téo pfine to lay all able forms, of. apepgh,.to our chat the name of “Americanisms,” quite critic, ‘Theré te hothing vey" tttite to dinary pexception _4n the Americanigms im a. novel even it a Writer cans biscuit a craker, and a there fs nothing in this “Whiel! should make it necessary to shut the English custom houses to his books. If one is to write for & Americans ihe pataral. 1 is to use the same sort of language that Americans use, and if the English think such % beastly or bloomin’, it is their triy: to reat it, but It owe we as rather iicalled-for im- pertinence for them to “ v Removed to the end of It is to be presumed, in absence of evidence to. .the, coutrary,,that “contem- poraneity” is the word here branded as an Americanisra, but- Mr. Howells at least sins in such company as the historian Rawlinson, who doubtless picked up his American slang at Oxford. There is also alleged to “Be some American taint larking “the dip of fountains like the -eyed cherubim.” It is hard ie reference fs to “choiring,” jm we are pained to say, by many I¢sg_fastidious Englishmen, among them Canon Farrar, or to “cherabim.” the ergy tog fee psaiter ‘s eri ‘hi it Set “Aat oe megs) ver chess ‘PeRePavas tell, the old isms. Or, not, Shakespeare may ha’ ling Sul quiri bine nee theng sort espeare it in the Americanism which also troubles this undefiled. The learned it from his friend, == o may have picked it up in Virginia wit is other nasty American ed hee ye is umtoubt ee. ny oct poet may, have Walter Ral habit. Th other American post, ord. By Top, se e phrase in the nonle pane ane Thou glorious mirrar where the Almighty’s form Glaskes ffsetf in-tempes, “Minity,” whieh" Tyg @thenaeum” takes to be an Americar was used by | Southey, whey tovbegye, had sad demo- cratic leanings, and came near rnp 4 colony with Qolemige.in the wilds America, on a Utopian pln worthy of “A ria.” As for “gracile ye not have Rossetti’ 2 eon ae Where in groves the gracile spring ‘Trembies. with maute. orivon, Confidently strengthening. On ‘the whole, this is a pretty bad outlook for the purity of English speech. Not only 4o the most’ emifent’’ Englishmen use Americanisms at every other breath, but apparently they had been using them for some hundreds of years when America was discovered. But when the wolf wanted the lamb’it nvailed naught for the latter to plead that it was and so could not defile the stream, apd-any phrase that ap Englishman does not like will_continue to be an Americanism, even though F<} found among the Runic sxmbola of Ruthwell cross,