Evening Star Newspaper, September 8, 1894, Page 17

16 THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, Igs—EPTEMBER 8, 1894—EIGHTEEN PAGES. SOME FALL STYLES| The Changing Temperature Does Not Affect the White Fad. PLAIDS ARE 10 BE WORN FOR A TIME A Combination of Pink and Black is Much Affected. TRE PINK OF YOUTH Written Exclusively for The Evening Star. HIS HAS BEEN A : I white summer. Not for a decade or more, if ever, has white been as universally worn. The white fucks and serges simply took the world ef fashion by sto>m, and their cousins, the challies and white lin- ens, were quite as much in favor, to say nothing of the white India silks that have assisted in making fair maids so charming. So far was the fad carried that white parasois, shoes, gloves, veils and hats were deemed necessary to complete the har- mony. It war a charming fad, because those who indulged in it were so superla- tively clean looking. There is no comfort in life in summer unless one is able to bathe often and change one’s clothing as soon as it shows the least sign of soil, and when one unde-takes to wear white, absolute cleanliness is insured, because white attire is most unaccommodating. It insists on as- suming a dingy hue that is awfully tell tale, if you undertake to wear it too long with- out cleansing. Well, the near approach of falling leaves and changing skies has work- 2d no change in the white fad. It Is rather intensified, if anything. And it is much cestlier, for now you will wear white broadcloth, and thick, fine serges which must be lined, and cannot be put in the wash tub, but will have to be sent to the cleaners. Oh, but fashion’s fads do cost! From over the water comes the re- Fort that all your pets must now be white! hhite Angora cats, white pigeons, Pomer- nian dogs, white rabbits and white poo- les are now the favorites of the hour. They Bre not especially pretty, and with their ink eyes, for mcst of the white animals ve a tendency to pink eyes—make one think of Albinos and other freaks of the human family. That part of the white fad will be short tived; tt {s a hard matter to keep the most docile pet clean enough to pack around on one’s shoulder, or under one’s arm, but a natty white poodle, or a cat with a smudge of coal soot on its fur Bre objects of aversion to everybody. Apropos of the white fad, I was within hearing distance of two ladies at a “func- Mion” the other day, and their conversation turned to fashion’s fads, and the severe lady—one of them was one of those women ‘who wants to reform the world, and sees 2 victim in everybody whom she approaches, said of a young lady who passed that the color of her hair was very suspicious. “I really believe that she uses some wash to make it that peculiar shade,” she went on, frowning as though the matter was all buy gyeuinal. “I believe that I will speak to her mother avotit it" “Oh, Spt do that,” remonstrated the omy: - “I kiiow that she doesn’t put a thing Cn It, but takes great care to keep it clean. Many people think that my hair is bleached, when, in fact, I have always had very light hair, and would rather color than bleach it.” “I have often remarked your hair,” re- turned the severe lady, “and I never should have accused you of bleaching it, for it is too near lint white. I never saw hair juet All In White and Gold. ime yours on but one person, and she was ap Albino! Your cyes are sometimes just a tle pink like hers were. too. It 1s, of course, a little unfortunate, but anybody With a grain of sense would recognize that hair as light as yours is simply a freak of nature! I woukin’t worry about it, if I were And then the severe lady to make some one else feel miserable, not realizing for a moment that she had transgressed all rules of polite society in her brutal frankness. White and go!d will be one of the charm- ing combinations this fall for house decora- Uon, as well 2s house gowns. Your walls can be white, with gold designs picked out ia arabesque or straight lines, and the hangings should be of goli. White enamel furniture is quite pretty, and when it has gold-colored damask or brocade upholster- ing it is elegant. Such a room will look charmingly cool in suramer, but the frozen purity is not quite as acceptable for win- ter. In a room. such ax I have described, lady of the house will receive her guests a long-trained gown of ivory cashmere er henrietta cloth, made with Bieeves. or long “ * le © ones of lace; she will wear a belt of a fillgree gold comb, which Spanich fashion, and the gown be clasped with filigree gold have gold sticks, with a dainty Watteau painted satin top, and if she carries out the ‘dea, she will move with slow languorous step, laugh and talk in low, drawling tones. ‘*r she wears or does, she will be al- togetixer charming, because a woman who Bas the artietie sense that commends sch decoration must needs have a pleasing per- sonality. — As I have remarked, white will be worn until the slush and snow of winter drives it indoors. I speak thus authcritatively, be- cause I have seen some elegant out-door gowns that are nearly all white. One in white henrietta cloth is pretty enough for an evening dress, yet some way it does not Icok Soap place nvm practi = who is to 80 pretty ti s jarmonizes: with her dothel, t ‘wish everybody could do that, writing about fashions wou! much easier. But it is so discouragin; 6 say that “a lovely blondé wore a gown of blue” something, made in such and such a fashion, and “looked most charming,” and then meet another blonde at the next func- tion who has copied the idees and picture faithfully, but who lacks the personality, hence is a failure. Fashion will always be an inexorable tyrant,till you learn to “wear your rue with a difference.” In taking up a fashion you must experl- ment until you are sure that you have got the right set of it for you, or until you have ind‘vidua'ized it. The big sleeve that droops on your friend will be becoming to yeu only after you have raised the folds till they stand out broad across the shoulders. The neat little round waist, that makes your sister look sylph-like, gives you a Dutch dell app*.rance, whereas a tiny, sharp point back and front, with no change on the hips at all, will give you the better figure. of the two. Your sister’s neck may be plump and her shoulders broad, and her bust inclined to push up under her chin. A round-necked bodice or one cut square weuld positively startle you with the ex- panse of bare flesh, but cut it a deep V, back and front,and let it come up a little high on the shoulder, with the sides of the arms draped, but with the sleeve forming a V on the top of the arm, ard you will hear people exclaiming about the exquisite texture of her satin-smcoth flesh, where before they would have been shocked with the exposure. For yourself, being a little flat-chested, you can’t wear the V, nor yet round-necked dress; but cut yours square, and outline it with a rose plaited frill of lace or chiffon, or with a fall of lace, and have big, puffed sleeves, that stand out at the top of the shoulders, and you will look as plump as your sister. You may wear the same material, the same color and the same trimming if you only adjust ani adapt it to your needs. I started to describe a white dress, how- ever. The skirt of this particular dress was made plain, and had a full puffed ruching of pale blue silk at the foot. The bodice was gathereu in full blouse fashion, and belted with blue silk over a knife-plaited vest of blue silk. The lower par: of the sleeve was of the blue silk, and the upper puffs were divided by a band of blue satin ribbon, tied in a bow. A big blue bow of the silk fastened the collar in the back. The hat is of blue straw, with blue chiffon and pink rose garniture. One of the most elegant gowns that I have seen for early fall wear is of white broadcloth. The skirt flares in a remark- uble fashion, and is embroidered from waist to foot in gradually widening design in gold tinsel. That sounds gaudy, but it is not a bit so. The bodice and sleeves are of gold-colored faille, and the wide epaulettes of embroidered broadcloth extend across the back in square cape-like fashion. The belt is of faile, and the straight sailor is black A Pretty Piatd. velvet, with a twist and a knot of yellow chiffon. Another white broadcloth gown is an importation. It has a plaited skirt, with upturned vandykes of black velvet at the foot, headed with heavy passementerie. The long coat of white breadcloth has a vest of plaited black satin, and is trimmed with a pointed design in black passe- menteric, which runs up the back of the waist between the shoulders, and comes to the front and over the shoulders, where it is lined with white faille. The high collar is of the satin, with an outside one of white cloth, which siands out in points at each side of the front, It is a very Frenchy production. Plaids are to be worn for a time at least. Of all trying patterns, plaids are easily the “tryingest.” They are always so large as to be unpleasantly conspicuous, or the col- ors are loud—some way a pretty plaid gown is a rarity. One that has been built for autumn wear is rather prettier than I expected, when the modiste said she had one she wanted to show me. combined with white. I have not been able to get away from white gowns this week. The plaid is one of the soft woven wools in red and black on a white ground. The front of the gown and the sleeves are of white serge, and so is the bodice, excepting a deep V in the back and the vest in front. The revers are of black velvet. The back of the skirt is of plaid, cut bias. About a decade ago pink was quite the rege, and a bride of some thirty sweet summers chose to wear a black silk, much ruffied and ribboned with pink silk, to a reception, where I had also the honor to be a guest. She looked so very well in the pink and black, with a tinge of pink on her already fading cheeks, that I remarked to her that she ought always to wear pink, it gave her such a girlish look. A few years later I happened to be where she was again, and she wore a hat profusely trimmed in pink, a pink necktie and pink ribbon bows on her gown. For weeks and months that woman haunted me, always in pink. Go where I would, she loomed up, sallow, thin and wan eyed, always smiling to show dimples that had been wrinkles for years, and always with a show of pink next her face. Last week I visited old scenes, and from a vantage point was looking out over an audience gathered for political purposes, i: which was a goodly sprinkling of women. A mass of pink caught my eye, and I laugh- ingly remarked that she was too far away, but I half believed that the “bride” was whirling down the ages still taking my ad- | vice, and still wearing pink. I raised my | lorgnon, and sure enough, there she was | with her twin daughters, aged eighteen, at j her side, herself thinner, sallower and | shastlier than ever, with a big pink silk tie | krotted under her sharp chin. It was aw- | ful. and I am afraid that I will never be able to get away from the effect of that vell-meant, but unconsidcred, piece of ad- BELL BALL. ATOMIC FOR NERVOUS PROSTRATION Horsford's Acid Phosphate. Dr. A. E. Carothers, San Antonio, Texas, says: “It is the best tomie I know of in debility a nervy prostration, lessness, caused | inewiat crerwork or prolonged Lactation.” by A MEXICAN — BAILIE A Visit to a Social Function in San Tose. —__ A ROADSIDE CEREMONY Senora Sara’s Account of a Night of Gayety. ASENORITA AND HER LOVER Written Exclusively for The Evening Star. > THINK YOU WILL enjoy an hour or so of it,” said Senora Cordova, smiling up at me from among the pillows. “It will be an entirely new experience for you. I will send Paquita to chaperone you and act as interpreter, and old Raquel as a watchdog, and you will be as safe from molestation as though guarded by a detail from the fort.” And so it was that I came to attend a Mexican society function, A purely Mexi- can one, mind you, for besides myself there was not an English-speaking person there. Of course Pequita thought that English was cne of her accomplishments, but her utter disregard for accent and her tongue- tied efforts at our “g’s” and “J's” were simply alarming. Her ideas of a chaper- one’s duties would just suit the ideas of an advenced young bud. With great presence of mind she effected absence of body on our arrival, and I only saw her at brief intervals thereafter. Then she came up panting and beamingly hoped that I was having a good time, introduced me to an- other relay of Mexicans, and then away she went. “You will be very kind to Senora Sara, Paquitta,” said Senora Cordova. “Si, senora,” she replied, smilingiy. “And remember, you are not to leave her alone an instant. You are to see that Raquel does not drink too much pulaue. She must meet all the nice people and you must come home the moment she gets tired. Me comprende V?” “Si, senorita,” she responded. “Com- prende.” She “‘sabed” all right enough, but she knew that I would tell no tales out of school, so left me to my own devices. The “bailie,” was something in the na- ture of a church festival, for it occurred on some saint's natal day, and it ended up with a ball. The baille was held at the Posada Hotel in San Jose, a little Mexican hamlet, six miles from Casa Quenemo. Years and years ago, I am told, San Jose was one of the star routes over which the mails were carried by pony express and all the government supplies for frontier forts were hauled. Having heard much of this historic highway 1 was pleased to learn that the old trail was yet used be- tween San Jose and Casa Quenemo. A Rough Ride. Again our conveyance was the buckboard. Paquita and 1 occupied the back seat, Ra- quel and a character calied “Chapparel” the front one. Chappare! drove—at least he called it driving, but the way those little mustangs “sifted” over the trail was more lke sailing before a northeaster. As we flew along in the dewy dusk of the Mexican twilight, ancient landmarks were cheerfully pointed out as “Murderer’s Pine,” where a fratricide was hung; “The Heavenly Trail” —a branching road, at the aagle of which stage robberies were frequent in the palmy days of road agents; “Canon Diablo,” where the Apaches used to hold “the devil's own carnival,” so Chapparel said, and ‘Dead Man’s Guich,” where men who were no ac- quisition to society in general were mys- teriously deposited after summarily depart- ing this life with their boots on. The buckboard swung round a bend of rocks with more than usual vehemence, and Chapparel brought the ponies to a stand- still with a suddenness that nearly lifted them into the vehicle, while all three of the other occupants jumped to the ground and devoutly crossing themselves knelt and be- gan to say a prayer. Through the soft night, just whitening with the newly risen moon, I gaw a gleaming white cross stretching jts supp}iant arms above th kneeling trio, an @ conscious a that the air was heavy with the mingled odors of tropical flowers. Paquita rose first, and coming to the buckboard, was just on the point of asking me to get down when the restive mustangs gave a plunge which threw me violently into her outstretched arms. Chapparel gave the long lines a mighty jerk and savagely shouted a Mex!- can oath at the prancing animals, which brought them to thel> haunches again, and went on with his unfinished prayers. Saint Miriam. Whea I got breath enough I asked the meaning of the peculiar ceremonies, for by that time Paquita had produced a huge jar of water from the buckboard, and was pouring it around the tuberoses, lilies and other flowers that were set border fashicn around a grass-grown mound, large enough to cover several bodies, and at the head of which stood the tall cross outlined in such a ghostly fashion against the rising moor. “Ea! And have you not heard of the blessed martyr, Saint Miriam?" asked Paquita amazeily. When we were once more on the road she told me how that fifty years ago a young American mother, hus- band and child came to this spot with a caravan, how they were all taken away by the cholera except Miriam and her child. who sought assistance at San Jose. The Mexicans, too, were stricken with the cholera, and Miriam helped them until her little bo was taken away. Thei she dis- appeared. “My peoples find her at last,” sald Paquita, “when they have hunted a night and a day, on that spot where she have her own small hands buried her hoosban’, and Mary has taken them all then to be with her—el parde, el infante and la madre. It is best, but my peoples are mooch sorrow, and they bury her and the pobre infante with the hoosban’ right there. She have nu friends to know, but my peoples they plant flowers, the white sweet ones like she have been, and they put up the cross, and we fay over them each time that we pass a prayer for them.” In the midst of my musings over this sad story the mustangs were set on their haunches with a twist of Chapparel’s wrist —they never talk to the horses in this country. A dig of the spurs or sting of the lash ts the gentlest urging they know, and a wrench of the bridle or jerk of the lines is the cruel announcement of a desire to lessen the always maddening pace—and I became conscious of the fact that we had reacked the hotel at San Jose. Two gaily eaparisoncd Mexicans stood at the wide archway, but at a word from Raquel they stood aside, and, responding to a stinging swish of Chapparel’s whip, the ponies dash- ed through the archway over the red marble pavement Into the illuminated patio. 1] rubbed my eyes in amazement. A Gny Scene. Light and laughter! Color and colloquy! It was positively painful at first. “The Senora Americana is mooch welcome! That was the first thing I comprehended after being lifted from the buckboard. I presume I had been introduced by Paquita to the sallow, fat little senora who was assuring me in true Spanish fashion and Greaser English that all the house and the fullness thereof was mine to deal with as I chose. The room into which we went was long and narrow, high-ceilinged and somber. Perhaps the walls were white once and age had turned them as autumn does the leaves. It was mellow artistic shade and made ‘an exquisite background fof the gauze and gold tinsel, the rich colors and riant faces of the women who wore therg, though the men were, most of them, quite pictur- esquely clad. The floor was of dark red stone blocks, polished to marble smooth- ness with age end wear. There were rugs everywhere. Some of the rugs were im- perted, and had been “| elegant ones, but were worn in snots. ‘he walls of the reception room wété hung with mellow- toned canvases fh ‘generous gilt frames, And 1 feel quite stre ‘that there were some old masters among’ them, but they were hung so “high oe line” that a step- ladder would have been necessary to as- certain their merfts,’ And then the lights were s0 exaspera| There were candles yy cangies. Th itt in half dozens tear ing silver jelabré that were so session of them. ‘dripped grease from all sorts of unex; places, in old brass holders and tin ts on the walls. The couches ai vans, big easy chairs and numerous ocks and stools were richly upholstered’ in’ red velvet, with em- broidery of gold.In the four ‘corners of the room were four fireplaces, with richly carved mantels of. wood. There was any amount of bric-a-brac scattered around, but it was all old, very old. The ceiling, twenty feet high, was as black as a century of dust and smoke and rainy scasons could make it. All Mot Color. In the reception rocm were the couples of elderly senors and senoras, chattering like magpies, smoking cigarettes and drinking a mild wine made from native grapes. A few were playing Spanish monte with odd-look- ing cards of murderous designs, and in the friendly protection of the deep windows two or three younger couples were decorously making love to each other, while the old duennas looked on approvingly. Out in the patio, up on the roof and in the ball room— ah, there was life for you! I caught fleeting flashes of red silk petticoats and clouds of black lace floating lazily on the perfumed air. One couple came within the range of my vision who fascinated me. The man was a Mexican, weasened and wolfish. The woman in his arms was a jewel of her type. Not too tall, lissome and lithe in movement; her stately young head, with masses of jet black hair, held proudly above shoulders as smooth as alabaster. Her big, sleepy eyes were sloe black, be- neath eyebrows that were delicately arched and glossily heavy. Her well-rounded arms and smal! hands and feet were of patrician size and mold. Her full, red lips, however, told a story of a passionate heart. She wore black lace over amber eatin. She was a dream picture of loveliness, more exquisite than the rich red roses that she held by their long stems in the same hand that held up her gown, and I wanted to know her. Senora Romero was hope- lessly stupid, but Paquita paused, flushed and breathless, and divined my desire at a old they made ve ah itch to get pos- te glance. “It is Senorita Dolores Luna,” she whis- pered. “She is what you call very much pobre, but proud.” “But her clothes!” I objected in surprise. “Ea! One cannot eat clothes,” chattered Paquita. “Those are rags, very mooch no bueno, I do assure the senora,” she added ezrnestly. “And the jewels—ah’ those Lunas have had the finest ones in their day, but those red things, they are quite all’ that are left now. Dolores will have diamonds, perhaps, if she marries the little beast. Is he not ‘one animale? Her padre sold her to him—Don Pedro Perfecto Ilario—he is mooch rich. Her heart, it is in the keeping of Don Jullo. See him, Senora? In the cor- ner, how he does glower. Senora Luna should watch her tonight; they are both desperate. Certainly, senor—" gnd Paquita floated away in the arms of another ad- mirer, A Romantic Incident. The blazing torches lighted up the patio with its tree-shaded walks and flower-lined paths,and the guests wandered about smok- ing cigarettes, visiting the banquet room to eat at will, dancing a round in the big, dark ball room, with its waxed floors, or drinking wine and playing cards at the tiny square tables up on the roof, overhung by tall cottonwoods, *apticots and pepper trees. There was a constantly shifting crowd up there. I liked it pp there and sat down for an hour to take jt all in. Presently I saw my amber and black'beauty come cut into the patio with her fat old mother, and turn her desperately, tired face up to the rcof and motion, Then the two came up the steps, the beauty two at a bound, and her mother laboriously. The beauty passed me into the shadéw of an apricot tree, and 1 heard a passionate voice say: “Acabo V “Si" came the answer softly, then a hurried sentence or two in reply, and a dark form slipped noiselessly over into the apricot tree as the fat senora came puffing up with the “beast” trailing at her heels. ‘Are you ready?” Don Julio had asked her, and she answered “Yes.” I could not hear the rest, but I felt in my bones that an elopement was en route. All night long they kept up the dancing and gambling and drinking and cigarette smoking, and the gay, good nature seemed inexhaustible. Finally I missed Paquita from among the dancers. For an hour or more she was not to be seen. Suddenly she appeared in the patio, and five minutes later I heard a Spanish oath snarled out, and Don Pedro Perfecto Ilario came stag- gering from the wine rocm, raving like a maniac. On the instant there was a great commotion—dancers, drinkers and Players pcuring into the patio, ing at once. Just then Paquita appeared at amy side, and yawningly remarked that she was tired. “But what is the matter below?” I asked. “It is nothing of moment, senora. The Senorita Dolcres is g-o-ne,” she replied, with another yawn. “Don Julio cannot be found. En consecuencia, Don Pedro, he is wild. Disagradable, is it not so? Chappa- rel has the ponies ready. Shall we go? Si?” And she had me down stairs and in the dressing room before I could ask an- other question. “The mustangs are dripping,” I ex- claimed as I went by them to get in, and heard them breathing hard. “Is it so?” returned Paquita, with great show of indignation. “Those worthless peons, they have been stealing a drive.” I sald no more, but feeling something soft under my feet on the floor of the buck- board, I reached down and brought forth a bunch of faded red roses. 1 held them up, and Paquita laughed and shrugged her shoulders. “Send them to the beast,” she said; “he has nothing else left.” But, instead, I dropped them on Saint Mirlam’s grave as we passe it in the gray morning. SENORA SARA, toe Quite English, Except on Occasions, From the PhiladsIphia Times. Simple-minded people, of course, notice such things more than others, but at Ocean Grove, where the biggest religious gather- ings of the country are now being held, they are talking more of the slips in the speech of Dr. Stokes, who bosses eve-ything thers, than they are of the sermons. For twenty-five years Dr. Stokes has been mak- ing the a1-nouncemeats before the meetings, and it has been his custom to say 4:30 or 10 o'clock or whatever the hour might be. Since a new and stunning auditorium has been built, however, and since several visit- ing English clergymen have spoken there, Dr. Stokes says “haulf paust” and “ten of the clock,” and juses similar expressions quite strange tosthe ears of his auditors. But when, as oftea. happens, Dr. Stokes has a number of:announcements to make, and, after saying: “haulf paust” and “auf- ternoon” several times, he forgets himself and says half past and afternoon in the or- dinary way, it gever fails to awaken an audible smile. Written for The Eveniilg Star. Never again, dear friends, shall song of mine Strike discord through thine own soul's music sweet; . Never toward thee iagaln shall speed my feet; Never again my ha stretch out to thine. But, since the songs’ will come, ntanding afai I sing them low. ‘They shall not hurt you, dear. Song-time soon passes: Shall the bird then fear ‘fo sing awhile bebiad the prison bar? —GRACE E. PALMER, Annisquam, August, 1892. —_——__— “Darn the Thing!” From Life. MELODY OF WHISKERS [2% "a. rvs, a Music When the Wind Blows Through Them. A NEW FAD FOR COLLECTORS Drought Frightens Their Proud Owners. STYLES OF DIFFERENT KEYS RATE Se Sena as From the Philadelphia Press, Every good son of Islam swears by the beard of the prophet, and although the re- ligious sanctity of whiskers is many points lower in more civilized countries, the study of hirsute adornment is full of interest, and has been lamentably neglected. It is true that the last few months have been very poor “growing weather,” and the long drought has blighted some of the finest “sets” of whiskers in the city. Indeed, the owners of luxuriant and trop- ical growths are in constant dread of forest fires, if the term may be used in this con- nection. Were a carelessly handled match or lighted cigar to start a conflagration of this nature any forencon in the lobby of any prominent hotel, it is highly probable an. a whisker holocaust would startle the city. The man with a handsome and flowing “set,” the technical term used by students of hirsutology, may look with haughty cun- Falactto, When the Breezes Play. tempt on his clean shaven acquaintances in ordinary seasons, but In this phenomenally dry weather the ownership of flowing facial trimmings, is a care worn and specter Lavunted man. The Whiskertorial Palm. However, a walk during the busy hours yesterday convinced a reporter that despite adverse climate conditions Philadelphia easily holds the whiskertorial palm for variety and artistic merit. When the au- tumn showers come with all their reviving wetness the display abroad will be even more desthetically pleasing. A rough classification was made of the striking “sets” seen yesterday on a some- What new basis. The practical and earth- born mind of the barber leads him to name the types of whiskers according to their shape or in a slangy and vulgar fashion, hich casts reproach on the weare! ‘urtains,”” “‘weepers’ and “wind sifters,” all of which epithets are degrading and repellant. A far more elevating and logical classification is based on the varying harmonies and tone quali- ties which a gentle breeze draws from vi- brating strands of all “sets.” It is well known that ail whiskers possess Aeolian qualities, ranging in tone from the shrillest These Are a Sweet Soprano. falsetto to the organ-like roll of the deep ss “‘set."" Of course, on an absolutely calm day it is almost impossible to catch the murmur of passing harmonies, and the breeze was so languid yesterday that only a trained ear could catch and differentiate the varying harp-like tones. Despite the far superior musical advan- tages of the city dwellers, there is more natural love of melody, and the musical ear is more common in the country. This is shown by the fact that the most original and pleasing harmonious “sets’ seen yes- terday were worn by elderly men, whose dress and bearing stamped them as country bred. City whiskers are too apt to be stiMy conventional and close cropped, seeming to the music luver like stringlees harps, mute and ineffectual to respond to the coy zephyrs. The falsetto whisker was easily detected even in the eddying throng. Its style is seen on the face of “Uncle Sam,” alias “Brother Jonathan,” or “Yankee Doodle.” It is easy to see that its scanty growth and ands must give out a peculiarly tion, increasing in pitch with the A Baritone “Set.” volume of the wind. The famous whisker of the multi-millionaire George Pullman is heavier and thicker, although of the same type, and its tone must be several notes lower than the specimen shown in the il- lustration. A Pure Soprano. pure soprano type was found only a long search, which terminated along the water front. The regu- lation “chinchilla,” to use a better-known title, is now common only among canal boat captains and grizzled old sea dogs and on the stage Irishman. This whisker a ruff under the chin, curling outward and upward, and is generally a short and considerably tangled growth. Mr. Glad- stone wears a modified form of this species. On accgunt of the multitude and wiriness of the strands the soprano whisker has a peculiar richress of tone, which is the re- sult of the blending of the innumerable separate vibrations, necessarily high and Sweet because of the shortness of the strings. These whiskers carry a certain comedy effect in their very looks and re- spond best to a light and sportive breeze. Far different is it with the diggified bari- tone “set.” A beautiful pair was found yesterday waving with elusive grace on the countenance of a prominent physician. The length and the favorable location of these whiskers, together with the double power afforded, gives to their melody a deep and mellow quality which is a pure baritone. Such @ “set” is at its best flyifig through the park behind a fast roadster, where the high wind resistance blows them out at Seg! and every hair vibrates entranc- ingly. It ts an odd fact that the common Van ‘The after down ital of all “sets.” tional and prosaic to only because it ay and not nature. Van Dyke closely cropped lawn which the wildness of nature's Ia « Minor Chord. therefore, remarkable that the note of the Van Dyke is not a simple tone, but is a harmony—a chord which is always in a minor key. The reporter passed half a dozen young business men who red eminently practical and well fed, yet their accurately cropped Van Dykes ded to the soft breeze in sad minors, which — the hearer a feeling of deep melan- choly. ‘The painter and the musician appreciate the peculiar pathos of the Van Dyke tim- bre, and it is tit and proper that the soulf strain should awaken their aesthetic fecl- ings. On a business man, however, the Van Dyke is an incongruity. The unique pathos of this strain arises from the fact that no two hairs are of the same length, owing to the triangular shape and careful trimming. The resulting harmony must, therefore, be complex, end musical experts will readily understand the minoz strain, which is 89 characteristic of the music of primitive peo- ples. Students of ethnology may see in this similarity an argument for Van Dyke, as the beard of primeval. man. The Pefler Whisker. The Peffer “curtain,” or whisker rampant, needs iittle discussion. To give forth the crashing discords and thundering bass tones of a Wagne-ian overture the growth must reach to the fifth button of the waistcoat, counting from the top. Only one fine speci- men was seen in yesterday's walk and that was followed by a Bucks county farmer, who was very fearful of accidental confla- gration ond eyed each passing cigarette fiend with amusing apprehension. On a windy day this “set” would fairly thunder. Many of the close cropped “Burnsides’ Were noted among middle-aged business mei. but they are of little interest to the whisker collector. Possibly were a cyclone raging, and the investigator equipped with a mi- crophone, faint and elfin strains might be caught from the whiskers. Still the result would be Lardly worth the trouble of the experiment. According to a well authenticated report, a Chicago man of wealth and artistic tastes Tuned for Wagnerian Thunder. has mode a magnificent collection of whis- kers, which embraces both native and for- eign growths, This fad is rather expensiv inasmuch as the whiskers cannot be de- tached from their owners and the collecting involves keeping in idleness a large number of able-bodied men who are entirely super- fluoux aside from their “sets.” On an ex- tensive country place the burdensome own- ers cf the “sets” may be employed as ser- vants, but menial labor is likely to fray or fade thei> adornments and a careless, drun- ken servant might ruin a priceless growth by a single act ae RARE AND CURIOUS. Gems That Are Specially Attractive to Keen Collectors. From the New York Ledger. The rarest and costilest gems, though not slways esteemed the most beautiful, are Pigeon’s bleod rubies, fire opals and dia- monds that are pure, but shed a distinct glow of blue or pink. A very perfect pearl of generous size and lustrous skin, tinted a rarely beautiful golden green, was valued, unset, at $1,800. A faultless green pearl is very rare. A curious stone is the Alexandrite. It is a dark green stone that is polished, cut and set very like a fine topaz or amethyst in large, showy rings surrounded by diamonds. By the light of day the Alexandrite has no special beauty, save ‘ts fine luster, but directly a shaft of artificial light strikes the dull stone deep gleams of red flash out of the green, and under the gas or in the firelight one ignorant ef this vagary would instantly pronounce it a rub; — . ——e Disappointment. From the Detroit Free Press. A child, with face all sunny bright, Stands kuee-leep in the tangled grass; He sees a wondrous thing of light And grave and wavering motion pass, An insiant—then the baby hands Reach for the dazzling golden wings, So near they fly, that where he stands He grasps the’ da! for all his childist trust; Alas! that tears shoald fall; Within his palm rome golden dust, A bit of crumpled gauze, ts all, Poor little butterfly, thy fate Is one with hopes of larger size— We seive some guideu dream, elute Because we bold our cherished prise, Ala hat hopes of love and trust And fume and honor thus should fall; We find our fingers soiled with dust, A brokem dream—and that is all. —SARAH NOBLE IVES. o2— House Bequeathed in Thirds. From the Boston ‘Transcript. One of the most peculiar wills ever drawn up in Suffolk county has recently been filed. The property involved is on Longwood venue, at Longwood. By the terms of the document the widow is to receive the use and income of the real estate during her fe. At her death the property is to go to the three children under the most carefully- drawn provisions. The whole property is to be divided into three equal parts by imagin- ary lines drawn from the front to the back boundary. One daughter is to receive the westerly third of the cellar and the attic and the three rooms on that end of the house. The second daughter is to have the center third of the garret and cellar and the middle and easterly thirds of the first floor. The son will draw the easterly third of the basement and loft and the middle and east- erly thirds of the second floor. He is to be allowed the use of the steps inside the house until reasonable time has elapsed for him to build stairs on the cutside of the house. The expense of keeping the house and yard in repair must be equally di ig: a equally divided between From the Louisville Courier-Journal. Col. Craddock tells the following story in his usual unique style in the Paris Ken- tucklan-Citizen: 8, you may record in the Kentuckian-Citizen that I am the tall- est of the Baptists,” said Miss Anna Lu- man of Mount Carmel vicinity, at the Bap- tist Association, at Mayslick. ‘I am six feet six inches in fuli dress, and weigh 142% pounds. One brother same height, my father six feet four inches and 313 pounds, but mother is only five fect five. I wear a No. 6 shoe anf 63-4 gloves. The Lumau Brothers, furpiture dealers of Wincheste:, are my brothérs. I am a farmer, my fathe: giving me q fine estate of over 10) acres.” We added: ‘Well, if you desire a partner, I'm a bachelor, and always felt I'd Uke « woman I could look up to.’ She is a most interesting conversatioualie © HOUSEHOLD HINTS A Need of Training Children From the Cradle. AN ECONOMICAL USE OF FRUIT JUICES There is a Right and a Wrong Way of Bed Making. eeecene - HOW TO CLEAN CARPETS Written Exclusively for The Evening Star. Not long ago a friend from abroad, who had been spending some time in this coun- try, was asked what she thought of our home life in comparison with that of her native country—England. “There has been but one unpleasant thing I noticed in my visits in your homes, and that was a sug- gestion in the manners of the children of rot exactly paying that fine sense of re~ spect and homage to their parents that we are accustomed to in Europe. gt seemed to me as if the sense of independence born in every American girl and boy was in danger of engendering a spirit of careless~ ness of talk and manner toward parents, In other words, your children seem to me to rule the parents, instead of just the re- verse.” That is a comment that forcigners are often impelled to make of our growing youth. It is Gisgracefully true that chil- dren are no longer compelled to obey their parents, ae was once the cave. There are many reasons for this. Children are put in school at a much younger age than they, once were, and for the sole purpose of get~ ting them out from under foot. Again, parents expect their children to be taught manners at school. Sometimes they are and sometimes they are not. A great many carpet upon the floor wi . stretched tight. Sweep and dust clcan be- fore using the mixture. 7 . A mother toli me the other day what she does with the fruit juices that she has left from a dish of fruit that has been cooked for a meal. She has fruit on her table every meal in the year, and you know that from a dish of stewed blackberries, or cure rants, or prunes you will get a half a tea- cupful of juice that will not be dished out. She has a jar into which she puts the juice— .0 matter about mixing—and when she has a pint or more, she puts it on and heats it, then puts in a quantity of sugar and a lit- tle gelatine. She skims it carefully, and when it has boiled sufficiently she pours it into a glass jar or jelly mold and sets it away to cool to make a relish for bread and butter for the children, and often to use in layer cake when she is making a plain vkolesome one for some little friends who are invited ‘in. It seems such a nice €co= nemical idea, and altegether wholesome. . 0K 3 If your tailor-made black diagone! or your black silk has got shiny, lay smoothly tpon the table and rub with a sponge wet in cider vinegar. Rub hard, then hang in a shady place to dry, and they will lovk al- most as well as ever. * 2 s «© ° ‘ freckle lotions are in demand. Equal parts of lactic acid and glycerine are said to be eBective, . Next to filling in teeth is a good tooth wash or Just now see the best preventive of A great many of the tooth powders are positively harmful. They Scour the enamel from the teeth, just as too much “——— will wear the plating from silver. The wing recipe is a good one and has the merit of being harmless to the enamel. Take fifteen grains of carbolic acid, seven drachme of boric acid, twenty, drops of essence of pint, two and @ half drachms of tincture of anise and two pints of soft water. Mix thoroughly and use every night ard morning just as you would tooth powder. It sweetens the mouth and breath. * 2 © © A fine silver polish is made as follows: Into a wide-movthed bottle put two-thirds of a pint of alcohol, one-third of a pin: of ammonia and a tablespoonful of whitening; shake thoroughly. Wet a small sponge in the mixture and rub the silver or brase quickly, and rub off with a dry soft flannel before it has a charce to dry on the metal. , 2 2 S'S Buttermilk is easily procured and is cheap, £0 try what it will do for you in the way of a cosmetic. Take a soft cloth or sponge and bathe the neck and arms and face thoroughly before retiring, Let it dry ia. In the morning wash with soft water and ary the face on a crash towel. Two or three such baths will whiten and sofica the skin perceptibly. . “2 Lots of women have an idea thai they know all there is to know about bed mak- ing, when, in fact, they Go not know the first principle of it. Beds should be stripped. of all belongings the first thing in the morn- ing and lei? to air thoroughly. Never leave the bed by an open window, however, if there is a driving rain or fog; even though the wet does not come in at the window the dampness will and will gather in the bed clothes. Once a week all the bedding should be treated toa sun bath. This is even more necessary in winter than summer. Where People are very cleanly about their persous fresh bed linen once a week wil! answer; but if the occupants of a bed ure shy of Soap and water the odors from the linen will drive you out of the room if not chang ed oftener. Strict attention to the hygiene of bed rooms would result in better health to their cccupante. Ring IN To remove the unsightly marks c.ured by @rippings from the faucets in marble basins, pulverizsd chalk, moistened with ‘ammonia, is sald to be excellent. Apply, with an old tooth brash, we ye oe White suede shoes may be cleaned by using dry pipe clay and an olf toot brush. Use plenty of the clay, and rub tt in vigor- ously with the brush. White cloth ruch as is worn on imililary uniforms can be cleaned in the seme way. Wet the clay and red it vigorously. It will make an awful looking mess a . amd you think that you have ruined the cloth, but just rinse out your brurh and scour the cioth with fresh water, 't will come out looking « _ You ean clean matting by washing it in salt and cold water. 12 there are dirty spote on it, rub it fire: wit Mul of corm meal. If the ttl nd nas Ciscolorad in spots, wai it in a sireng solution of sofa water, which wl turn it a pale with salt and water—a gallon of wate:, using a age bak comfertebte har got elesticliy, hong it in Jag hot sun, bet in ® & few bouss ard all ik to