Evening Star Newspaper, October 27, 1894, Page 16

18 THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, OCTOBER 27, 1894—TWENTY PAGES. OVER THE WASH TUBS Senora Sara Spends a Morning With the Girls in the Laundry. SOME OF THE MORE IMPORTANT DON'TS The Mystery of Having the House- hold Linen Made Clean. THE SOAP AND SUDS —_>+—_—_ Written Exclusively for The Evening Star. WAS SCOLDING Jude@ about the con- dition of the white clothes, so yellow that they might have been lying: by for a year, and asked her if she was sure that she rinsed them properly, in two waters, when Doro- thy asked In the most innnocent man- ner possible: “Sara, do you boil clothes before you rinse them or after?” Upon my word, the fact of a girl, reared as Dorothy has been, asking a question like that nearly paralyzed ine. I presume I gave the desired information in rather sarcastic tones, for she fetulantly asked me how on earth I supposed a girl was going to know how to go about doing a washing who had never seen one dore, nor heard its process described. The logic of the question was unanswerable, for a knowledge of the mysteries of laundering the family linen is not born in one any more than a knowledge of the alphabet. I found, by dint of qugstioning some of the girls who visit at our house, that most of them are In the same lamentable state of ignorance as my sister. That does not make her case any stronger, however, for that fs one of the things that every woman ovght to know how to do, though she never puts a hand in a tub of wash water. One may have a half dozen servants, and a laundress besides, and then not have a soul in the house who knows just how to wash clothes with the least wear and tear on them, and the best possible results to be obtained from the smallest expenditure of time and labor. Dorothy told the girls how I fussed at her for being so unen- lightened, and my suggestion that she turn her attention to that branch of useful household knowledge the next thing, and that fired them with an ambition to go and do likewise. Nothing but a practical cxper- iment would satisfy them. Of course, it Was as easy to demonstrate my theories to half a dozen as to one, but if you think T got any fun out of it you are mistaken. 1 was simply amazed at the gross ignor- ance of the simplest principles of chemistry and natural laws displayed by those six girls. They stuck to their self-imposed tusk, however, and skinned hands, aching backs and chapped lips were the souvenirs of the occasion, which, if not the “hap- piest in their lives,” certainly was pro- ductive of good results, for it taught those six giddy girls something of the weary rout‘ne of a washwoman’s life, and will, perhaps, lead them to be less heedless of her comfort. They learned, also, that there may be considerable economy exercised in washing clothes properly, and why part- ly soiled clothes are much more easily cleansed than those that are worn ull they are disgracefully dirty. The Convenient Washing Day. There is a right and a wrong way to du everything. I do not desire to be thought infallible, but I know that my way of going about washing is much bevter than the way of some othe: people. I hnow it by actual experience and pot as a matter of theory, for I have tried many ways ef washing. I prefer Tuesday for wash day for a great many reasons. Monday mcining is gener- ally hard on the whoie family. Sunday ts made a day of rest or recreation in every American home. If it is the former, the routine of work 1s interrupted, and the household machinery thrown out of gear for one whole day. a When Morday merning comes, wearing apparel is cut of place, reoms are in a state of disorder, Saturday’s cupply of foud js ex- hausted, the larder must be replenished, and the children can never find their things for schoo! after a two days’ holiday. On the other hand, there are a great many people who follow the Burcrean custom of making Sunday a day of relaxation, spend- ing it in driving, in quiet rambles in the woods, and in iong walks. Many others choose to entertain friends; in these cases Monday moraing finds every member of the family <ired, and inclined to be fractious, to say nothing of the extra work of clean- ing up china and silver, putting away choice bits, and getting the “ccmpary” table linen put away. Then 1 object most seriously to going over the soiled clothes on Sunday evenirg to get them ready fer the “scak,” which I con- sider necessary. The washing in my ‘house is always done on Tuesday—not “rain or shine,” however, for I never could see the sense in doing a big washing on a rainy day, when it is evident that the clothes must be left in the tub over night, or dried in the house, making extra work that can be easily avoided. If one has a regular dry- ing room, in which the sun can come, along with fresh air, through wide open windows, a drying room fs ail right. But to an old-fashioned notion wash should have the sun plenty of !t, to purify and whiten the n, and I never could endure the odor Uthat is always perceptible about clothes dried in the house. How It is Done. On Monday evening the woman who wants to make her washing as light as pos- sible, whether she does it herself, or has it done, gets all the clothes together, and goes over mn All the table linen is examined for possible tea or fruit stains, and if any are discovered, the article is laid aside to be treated for the spot, ac- cording to some remedy teach hous wife has In her mental receipt book. Torn or ripped bed linen should be mended before It goes into the we so that the rents will not be made larger. Then the white clothes ied in two heaps,the coarser clothes nd the fine in another, and put in r them pour pure, cold water—bolled and cooled, if the water is harl—in which has been mixed a half teacupful of coal oll to two ions of water. Lift the clothes up and make sure that the water gets to all of them; then throw a cluth over the tubs and let them stand till morning. Examine the colored clothes for big grease spots, paint daubs and such torments of the moth- er of restless little on2g and If you discover aint, lay the spot ovel sin and little coal off on it, an: it morning. You will then be able ub most of it out in the basin. If it is only a grease spot, much rubbing on the board would discolor the fabric, but a few moments’ soaking in the coal oli wiil loosen it and you will have no trouble w'th ft. Turn all the stock‘u: rong-side out, having brushed them first to remove aii dust from the outsile. If they are black, ‘ou can wash them mitch easier and with less rubbing {f you put them in a basin of cold water about half an hour befcre you get ready to put them in the suds. Never use concentrated ive or sul soda, or any of the washing powders, in clean. black in their stockings, if you wish them to re! color to the ig in the morning, heat some wer your svaked white he chill will he taken off of ser to the tub, and, clothes around in th run them through the no attempt to rub them If you have a pounder, m @ great deal of e dirt, t all come ou the suds, anyhow. ‘When you are ready to begin the washing, have the boiler full of water that has boiled, and, if it is hard and has to be broken, put the soda or whatever you use fn the water while !t 1s boiling, and as soon @s the scum bolls to the top lift it off. White and Colored Clothes. Then you will have clear water, which !s one great essential. Into this put half a teacupful of coal ofl. Use plenty of water, and have it pretty hot, but never pour boil- ing water over the clothes. That will set the dirt. Let the water cool, so that you can put your hand in it before putting it on the clothes; if you don’t you will soon have yellow clothes, in spite of all other care. When you find the water in the tub getting cold, dip out a lot of it and put in clean, hot water, which may then be boil- ing, as it will cool in the tub, if the water gets to looking dingy from the dirt, dip it out and put in more hot water. In this way you keep the water at the right tempera- ture and it never gets very dirty. I think that if you are careful to do this, and skim the water first, using good laundry soap, one suds is enough. Wash the finest white clothes first, and put them to boil. Have your boiler two- thirds full of water that has been botled with the softening fluid, and carefully skimmed. When you get ready to put the clothes in the boiler dash in a bucket of cold water that has been boiled also, and then put in the soap parings that you have had soaking to a pulp on the back of the stove. You can use up all the bits of soap about the house in this way. If you are suspicious of any of the ear- ments rub soap on the soiled spots, then put in the boiler and let the water grad- ually come to the boil, keeping covered; then set the boiler back to “stew” for five minutes. It is not well to let the clothes boli vigorously, because the dirt will boil into the fibers and make the linen yellow. Stir the linen often and pound it around to loosen all the dirt, When you get ready to lift from the boiler dash in some cold water and lift into the tub. If the water in the boiler looks murky lft it out and use fresh for the second boilerful. Water is the cheapest thing in the world for whitening clothes, and you can’t use too much of it. 7 Blueing and Starching. Some women wash everything through the boil suds. It is not necessary if you have been careful about the water. Those pieces of linen that have been badly soiled may be rubbed on the board, but other- wise A would simply keep adding fresh water and dipping out the old suds, and after rubbing and sousing the linen about run {t through the wringer into a tub of perfectly clear water. When the tub is conyeniently full rub and pound the clothes up and down in the water, and as soon as it begins to look the least bit sudsy lift out and add fresh water, having it always slightly warmed, as much for comfort and safety from taxing cold as from the fact that warm water will bring out ail the soup. Put the clothes through the wringer into the basket, and let them stand there till you get ready to put them immediately through the blue water. Clothes should never stand a moment in the blue water; it makes them dark looking, some qualities of white cotton taking up the blue matter much faster than others, Have the blue water blood warm, use good blueing ,and put the pieces through rapidly. Only* put a dozen or so pieces in at once, and add fresh water and more blueing as it seems to be needed. Don't put starch in the blue water. Starched bed linen {s an abomination, but lots of people starch it, and the towels and handkerchiefs and napkins. It may make them Iron smoother,but it also them wear out faster, and is a wasteful performance as well as disagreeable to people with tender flesh. Clearstarch is most satisfactory for all purposes, and I would use it in preference to flour, for it does not leave marks on colored clothes and {s not inclined to be lumpy. For white clothes the starch should have a tiny bit of blueing; for colored ciothes—dark ones— it may be made quite a dark blue. Before you put the clothes on the line take a clean cloth and rub it vigorously, so that there will be no dirt on it to soil your clothes. Hang the white clothes in the sun, and let them hang as long as they can get the benefit of it; the sun is a good bleacher. ~ Hard and Soft Water. Wash colored clothes in perfectly clean water and not through the suds that you used for the white clothes. There is al- ways a lot of lint floating in the white clothes’ water, and it will deposit itself all cver the darker ones, and you can’t get it off. If you must use the same water, strain it carefully through a fine meshed cloth—then you will see the why of my objection. One suds will answer for color- ed clothes aad two rinses. Clear, clean water for the first, blue water for the sec- ond, observing the very same precaution about having it kept free of soapy matter. When you begin on the colored clothes put them through on the fly. Don't let shem soak a minute in soapy or softened water, for it ls death to their bright colors. Get them on the line in the fresh air as soon as possible. It is not best to hang them in the sun for very long, as they will oe As soon a they are dry bring them in. If you have no soft water to wash with you will, of course, have to “break” the water. Get some gcod, pure article to do this, and stick to it. I prefer sal soda to all the patented stuff that I ever saw. It will not rot the clothes, and most of the patent stuff will. It is a good plan, if you can so arrange it, to draw all the water you will need the night before, and into ‘kis stir the washing soda, to stand till morning. Then you can lift it off as clear crystal. Plenty of clear water will make white clothes. Boil every drop of water you use on the clothes if it is hard, and let it settle and skim before using. This pre- caution fs not necessary for soft or cistern water. In the boiling suds put two table- spoonfuls of coal ofl to each boiler of clothes. Handle the oil carefully, as it is inflammable, but it ts also a powerfully good cleansing agent, and will not injure the color of the most delicate fabric. I have no faith in washing machines. [ have seen a hundred, and I never saw one that was not more trouble than {t is worth, and they all tear the clothes and are death to buttons. Washing ts not hard work if It is gone at in a systematic manner and the proper spirit. It takes time to do it proper- ly, and if it is not done properly it is a thorn in the flesh to a person of dainty habits. If you are not strong, yet your means are too small to admit of putting the washing out, try washing the colored clothes Mon- day and the white clothes Tuesday. You will not have to boll the colored clothes, and you will be surprised to find how quick- ly you can put them through by themselves and not have much muss about {t either. ORA SARA, —_—o—— For a Little Tot. This is such a pretty frock for a little tot. It 1s shirred to a round yoke and again to form a short waist, and is decorated with cute little bows with ends, for all the world ike mamma's. The big sleeves, too, are lke the mother’s, with a ruffle falling over the dimpled arms. It can be developed in any soft silk or wool material, and in any color. ‘The model was a red India silk, unlined, except in the waist. —_ Making a Rose Jar. To prepare a ros? jar, pull the petals from fresh roses and put them in a jar, as orna- mental as you like, but be sure to have it with a glass or porcelain top. Sprinkle a little salt over each layer of leaves, then put the top on the jar to keep the odor in and set it In the sun. You can add spices or other flowers if you like, but the rose leaves alone are sweetest. When your jar 1s full and the leaves thoroughly dry the “rose jar” will be “made,” and you can open It when you like to fill the air with its rich perfume. WITH THE CHILDREN A Visit to a Session of a Spiritu- alists’ Sunday School. A LITLE GIRL HAS A “CONTROL” From an Infant Class to One for Mediums. FROM THE CATECHISM ID YOU EVER Dex that spiritual- ists have Sunday school? They do. I attended a session at Metzerott Hall last Sunday morning, and the following evening joined a post-graduate class conducted by one of the Sunday school teachers for the pur- pose of developing mediums, with the result that I am an officially declared me- dium myself. I am now ready to tell you pest, present and future; cayse speedy mar- riages, unite the separated and separate the united; give luck, divorces, tips on the races and Egyptian charms that will dis- solve your tall, dark, gray-eyed brunette enemy into thin air and bring to your feet the short, fair, blue-eyed blonde whom you love to madness without knowing how old she was at the last census. I can- but let me begin at the beginning. When during the recent national conven- tion of spiritualists I heard Sunday school announced, it seemed impossible that spir- itualism could be taught children. I had just witnessed the exhibition of a test me- dium as he had chased wildly back and forth upon the stage, then down among his audience, now possessed by the spirit of one burned to death, now of one drowned, now of a suicide, crying out with real or simulated pain as he claimed to experience in his own body the death tortures of the spirit that possessed him. é That this performance which draws hu- man nerves, human hearts and human brain force to run the machinery of its un- canny lights and talking specters could in any way, shape or form be produced oo children was more than I could be- jeve. Still I was prepared for anything when I went to Sunday school last Sunday. A Youthfal Medium. I.pushed through the outer door of Metz- erott’s Hall a bit cautiously and stepped gingerly inside, not feeling at all certain that at any turn some grim phantom would not call a halt on me, scaring me to death, if it didn’t altogether kill me. Fancy, then, my relief to find within a real grand- ma with four or five dear little girls—-all alive—visiting together and wondering why everybody was late. They greeted me in the sweetest possible manner, and we sat down to just such a love feast as any grandma and little girls would make for a stranger who couldn't help loving.them on sight, and showing that she did. I told grandma how impossible it had seemed to me that spiritualism should be taught chil- dren. ‘hy, most children are in mortal terror of ghosts,” I said. “You don’t mean to tell me that you actually teach them that the spirits of the dead return to earth?” - “Oh, yes,” grandma answered, her dear old face abeam with a truly spiritual light; “I have a little girl in my class—Rosa, where is Rosa? Ah, here you are. This lit- tie girl is a medium herself. Perhaps you can go under ‘control’ today, Rosa, and show this lady how much at home the chil- dren feel with spirits of the dead.” Rosa stood before me, a thin slip of a girl, twelve years old,she said. She was evident- ly‘of poor parents. Though clean, she was not well dressed, and her small body ap- peared insuffictently nourished. She had a remarkably sensitive face. It was trans- lucent and shaped by eagerness—“‘carved of fervor, as the Psyche's carved of stone.” Her skin was pale; her eyebrows and eye lashes, very thick and black, blended into shadows about her eyes an lent a touch of mystery to the intense trustfulness of her gaze. Her hands moved constantly. She talked ‘with breathless haste and incoherently, every nerve vibrant with the excitement of giving forth all there is in her, Her Control an Indian. “I have been a medium all my life,” Rosa told me. “As long as I can remember. I have different controls, but most always my control is an Indian. Wes, I go to school, but I don’t think I can stand it to go much longer; the children bother ma ¢o. They call me ‘crazy,’ and ‘witch’ end ‘dev- il," and chase me on the street and throw things at me. I give sittings at my home in Georgetown, Oh, there's Fritzie. Fritzie comes over and has a sitting with me every week.” Then Rosa left me to run to meet Fritzle, whom I recognized, despite his Sun- day clothes and very much slicked-upness, as an old’man whom I had seen earning his living on a street corner. The hall wes rapidly filling, and T haven't for many a seen so much brotherly love as was everywhere displayed. The teachers, who were all mediums, I was told, embrac- ed one another, and embraced the children as they came in, and the children, fn their turn, embraced one another. Grandma had a class of a dozen or more children 2bout Rosa’s age, including three boys. Then there was sn infant class, where the chil- dren ranged from two and a half to four cr five years. There was a cless of young people, inclu ling two bcys, that ranged be- tween grandma's class and the Bible class, or what corresponds to the Bible class in orthodox Sunday schccls. This Bible class was taught by a pesitive old lady from Philadelphia, and the members were me- diums of greater or less development. In all, the Sunday schcol numbered about seventy. ‘The Pathos of It Al To me there was something indescribably pathetic about these people. The older ones, excepting grandma, were in what Mme. Blavatsky describes as “all the maj- esty of their wrinkles,"—a very sorry maj- esty, lighted as it was by uneasy eyes through which souls peered into eternity, discernirig there no beatific vision, but dis- satisfied, earth-bcund, worm-eaten specters of dead men. Even the children’s eyes were uneasy in a circle of queer shadows. Moreover the mourning garb of many pres- ent told plainly that here were gathered pitiful souls whose religion seeks not so much a live God as a dead loved one. In the infant class sat a widow with three babies, training their tiny bodies, as well as her own, for vehicles of their dead father’s return to earth. The Order of Exercises, The exercises of the day opened with a transcendental invocation by a medium whose “control,” I think, must have been in life the worthy president of a woman's Emerson club. Following this, several good old hymns were sung, among them the familiar one beginning “From Greenland’s icy mountains, And India’s coral strands.”" “ On the conclusion of the singing class work began, the first endeavor in each class being for every one to commit to memory what they called “words of wis- dom,” to be recited at the close of the s@: sion. The babies in the infant class haying accomplished this task they were rewarded with a story read to them by their teacher. In grandma's class poor Rosa_had a hard time to memorize her verse. In the Bible class the time was taken up by a visiting medium from Boston, who talked a great deal more about east winds and their ef- fect on his throat than he did about any- thing else. However, here I gained my op- portunity to join the class of developing mediums, which the positive old lady from Philadelphia assembles in her room on Monday evening. When grandma beckoned me to return to her class I found Rosa under “control” of her Indian. I sat down beside her. The child’s body was working from head to foot and she was drawing her hands one from under the other on her lap. Her face was irritable in the extreme, the lids of her eyes oddly contracted by an apparently involuntary action of the muscles, leaving only the merest slit through which her eyes struggled. The boys in the class were strongly disposed to guy her, but she dom- inated not only their ridicule, but their bod- jes. Sho commanded them to take their feet down off a chair to which they were elevated, and to sit up straight, and the boys had to mind her. A couple of the Is algo treated Rosa's test as a huge joke, and were irrepressible. They giggled from first to last. But close to grandma’ side sat a dear little girl, with sober, al- most awe-stricken face, her questioning brown eyes fixed on Rosa. “Youse don’t minds if me talks to youse, does you little girl,” Rosa’s Indian spirit Bluebell was saying as Rosa reached forward, and grasping the little. girl's hand began kneading it between her two. “‘Youse is not afraid of spirits, is you? No; me know that, and me wants to tells youse all about youse mamma. Youse mamma isn’t dead—no she isn’t dead, little girl, she’s just passed over into se spirit,” and Rosa continued in the same strain. No Message for the Visitor. “Haven't you got some message for the strange lady beside you, Bluebell,” asked grandma. Then Bluebell took hold of my hand and fingering it wistfully sald: “Nope, I can’t says anything to her today, ‘cause I never sees her before and I ain't got much time. Some other day when she come, I tells her something. Nows I got to go away from youse all, ’eause I don’t wants to tire my medium out Gosd-bye, good-bye, good-bye.” then shaking hands with each of us about her, the Indian was gone. Rosa rubbed her eyes toward her rose with her thumb and fingers, sighed deeply three times, gave @ convulsive shudder that shook her all over, and opening her eyes, was at once al sorbed trying to memorize her word of wis- dom from the card she immediately picked u ow we will hear our words of wisdom, the leader of the Sunday school ‘announced. The tots in the infant class began. “Speak the truth,” shouted a boy tot. “Be sure you're right and go ahead,” piped a wee girl. The older ones present recited some- thing like the following: ‘We want teachings that will make life better, rather than look to its being so in the next. Truth should be the first lesson of the child and the last aspiration of mankind. After these recitations another hymn was surg, and then, while a young woman played Liberty march, the entire Sunday school, each member equipped with a flag, marched up and down, around and across the hall, in single and double file, finally stacking their colors, and Sunday school was at an end for the day. Extracts From the Catechism. Grandma loaned me one of the catechisms she had, from which I copicd some of the tenets of spiritualism as taught to children. “What world do we live in?” “The see.” “Who lives in the unseen world?” {Our friends, whom some people call “Are they not dead?” “No; because spirits can never die.” “Was man made out of the dust of the ‘Because the progress of knowledge in the structure of the body shows that we must from necessity be a helpless babe, a child, a youth and so on to manhood and womanhood.”" : “Is it reasonable to believe that this earth was created out of nothing in six days?” “No, because geology, nature's bible, teaches us that this planet was ages upon ages in developing before any living thing could exist, and after that the iower orders of creation from condition to condition, when man came to be the crowning act of nature or God. What is God?" “This vast creation, consisting of sun, moon, stars, trees, plants, air, water, men, women, children—everyihing.”” “Who was Jesus Christ?” “A human being created the same as all human beings, who lived eighteen hundred years ago and passed away in defense of his belief.” : “How should we view what all history calls ‘angels’? “Simply as intelligent, harmonized and well-developed human beings that passed away from the earthly form to that spirit- ual existence of life, love and progress. ‘Why is spiritualism superior to Chris- nity 2" “Because Christianity rests In faith, apie {tualism on knowledge; Christianity is his- torical, spiritualism is a living fact. PAULINE PRY. pimeese, “Eos YOUTH ITS OWN ADORNMENT. Young Women Should Not Overdre: Themselves. ‘Than white there is nothing prettier in the world for the young girl, or for one who, “standing with reluctant feet where the brook and river meet,” wonders in what she shall gown herself and what shall be her color. To young girls just entering upon their social triumphs there is something awful in the idea of growing old, and yet they deliberately set themselves about mak- ing as old an appearance as possible, by se- lecting for party gowns materials and col- ors that should be left to fat old dowagers and managing mammas. “Over the water” young women in their first season do not wear velvet, and in the best society do not wear diamonds or other flashing gems. unly pearls and turquolses and a little dead gold. They never appear in satin or the rare old laces until they have been out for a scason or more. Here it 1s different. The debutante will wear a frock off the iden- tical piece of moire that gowns her mother; and as for diamonds, she wears those to school, and has velvet frocks from her youth up. It is such a pity! Youth is its own sweetest adornment, and should need no jewels, no rich textures, no gaudy setting of color to make it more attract- ive. The gowns of a debutante for her first two seasons at least should be of a light, airy character; tulle and soft India silk, mull and chiffon, thread laces and the dainty Valenciennes; and, above all things, she should avoid the heavy colors and wear only the soft, delicate shades that suggest rather than evidence color. A very charm- ing exemplificauon of this idea may be found in thie dainty white frock, dancing length, and utterly devoid of freaks in gar- niture, It is made of ivory white liberty silk, with sleeves of chiffon. The full lower part of the bodice is of chiffon, and so is the soft folds around the modestly low neck. There are two double box-plaited rows of the chiffon around the skirt, and bows of satin ribbon on the shoulders and sleeves. Satin also forms the belt, with a butterfly bow and short ends in the back. The chiffon is pale.pink, like the lining to @ sunset cloud. -_- The Care of Mirrors. Housekeepers are often puzzled to know why their handsome mirrors, that cost a great deal of money and were warranted to be the best, spot as though they might be mildewed. If mirrors are subjected to very strong sunlight or any artificial ght the quicksilver will often dissolve, and that ruins the mirror’s usefulness until it can be resilvered, for there is no other way of cor- recting the blemish. A strong heat on a mirror will also make the = peel off. Never let the light shine directly on your mirrors for any length of time, and never let them get unduly heated from con- tact with a gas jet, and it is not likely that you will have any trouble with them. MOTHER GOOSE CLUB The Second Meeting of the Advanced Women Who Think, LBSSONS IN JINGLES Impromptu Dissertations on ‘Little Boy Blue” and His Contemporaries. ABOUT LOVE AND MARRIAGE Written Exclusively for The Evening Star. HE MOTHER Goose Club met at the house of Mrs. West End last Thurs- day, and in the brief history of the society there has never been @ more successful meeting. There was, to be sure, a vague hint of war in the air when Mrs. George- town Heights quite unexpectedly met Mrs. Fin de Siecle, who had enticed a cook away from her, and the cordiality between the Congressman’s wife and the department woman, who dis- covered that their gowns were off the same plece, was distinctly forced. These unpleasantnesses, however, were entirely too trifling to mar seriously the pleasure of the afternoon. All the club's members were present, and as Mrs. West End opened the meeting her face beamed with satisfaction. “I have thought it best, adies,” she said, “to assign no particular poem to any one member for this afternoon, but I have written a number of verses on cards, which we will drawequite at random. This will, I think, serve to show best what interpreta- tions of Mother Goose suggest themselves at first sight. Caroline, the bowl.” “Sevres,” whispered the department wo- man to the matron next her. “It’s a Sevres bowl, and it’s new. That's why she has her maid pass it round. I wouldn’t—oh, is it my turn to draw? Well, here goes. “Will you begin, please, “dear Miss Pen- sion Bureau?” asked the hostess with the assured air that only a clear conscience or @ perfectly fitting gown can give. ‘The Crooked Man and the Moral. “I have drawn the verse about the’ crook- ed man,” said the department woman. “There was a crooked man, and he went ®@ crooked mile, He found a crooked sixpence against a crooked stile; He bought a crooked cat, which caught a crookéd mouse, And they all lived together in @ little crook- ed house.’ “I take the man's crookedness to be not physical, but moral. He is one of those unfortunately warped minds who take the most pessimistic view imaginable of life. Nothing is right to him, Everything is out of joint. Nothing pleases him, and he at- tributes it all to the world, never thinking that things seem wrong because he him- self is wrong. The world is always more or iess a réfection of one’s mood. To the thief, all the world is dishonest. De Mus- set, I think, explains this phase of Mother Goose admirably in a book doubtless in- spired by this very verse. 1 forget the name of it, but the hero has deceived so many women that he is at last totally un- able to believe in the fidelity of a woman whom he loves and who loves him. He has Jost by inhdelity the ability to believe in faith. It is always the man who is not true to his wife, you know, who is most Jealous of her.” “That settles it,” whispered the matron to the woman in the cerise collar, “I did intend to bring my daughter to the club, but if we're going to discuss De Musset and things he writes, 1 shan’t do it, that’s all.” “The pathetic part of the poor man’s life,” went on Miss Pension Bureau, “‘is indicated in his love for animais. The world has gone contrary-wise, and he has left it for his hermit life with his pets; but e they seem crooked.” ‘These verses teach us,’ she concluded as she resumed her seat, ‘that we ought all pray for healthy mi “Or healthy livers tron. ‘ “Oh, it’s the same thing.” Lessons on Marriage. An examination of the numbers on the verses showed that the next poem in order was: “Jack Spratt could eat no fat, His wife could eat no lean. An¢ so betwixt them both, you see, They licked the platter clean. suggested the ma- The Congressman’s wife had that, She leaned “Oh, languidly back in her chair. that’s too simple to need explana- It isn't people with similar tastes who mak? a success of marriage. A man doesn’t want his wife to succeed in his field, for the one thing a man never forgives a woman is being cleverer than he.” “My! isn’t she sarcastic!” This from the cerise collar to the bluet hat next her. “They say she writes her husband's speech- es, too.” I think, as a rul said Mrs. West End, “that Mother Goose does not consider mar- riage a success. She says: “ “Needles and pins, needles and pins, When a man marries his trouble begins,’ “And as for the romance of it, she tells about the man who “Was forced to go to London To get himself a wife.’ “Just fancy! Not because he was in Tove, but because the rats and mice ate up his bread and cheese. That's Mother Goose's rebuke to the men and women who marry for convenience, for, don’t you remember, the man started to take his wife home in a wheelbarrow, and they both got a fall? That is simply by way of saying that mar- riages founded on anything but an endur- ing love are failures trcm the beginning.” Love and Marriage. “Enduring lovel” said the woman who is thought to have a past. “Enduring fid- dlesticks! Men don’t marry for love. They marry like Little Jack Jingle, in the verse I've drawn: = “Little Jack Jingle, He used to live singh But when he got tired of this kind of life, He left off being single and got him a wife.’ “That is undoubtedly the foundation for Oscar Wilde’s outrageous epigram, ‘Men marry because they are tired; women be- cause they are curious.’ Little Mr. Jingle, having nicely sowed his wild oats, settied down. His wife eats oatmeal porridge made from the crop every morning for break- fast. It is a heartbreakingly bitter dish, too.”” “Good heavens!” murmured the cerise collar, “I am so glad I didn’t bring my daughter. Politics and Little Boy Blue. “Oh, do let’s give over this endless talk of marriage,” came from Mra, De Siecle. “I have two of Mother Goose's keenest political poems: ““‘Littlg Boy Blue, come blow your horn, The sheep's in the meadow, the cow’s in the corn. Where is the little boy tending the sheep? Under the haycock fast asleep.’ “That is the appeal of a nation to the men who juggle with its prosperity for their own selfish ends. Go out now into the country—thank heaven we're out of politics here in Washington—and hear the politi- clans berating each other—blowing their horns. They promise so much; they will right all the wrongs; they will secure such legislation as will restore a feeling of con- fidence among business men—i’m sure that’s the expression. They will quit tinker- g with the tariff and sliver, but will eg onestly to work to enact laws for the real good of the country, regardless of ty affiliations, And then they are elected and come to Washington, blowing their horns, to look after the sheep.” “And once here, what do they do? What did they do last summer when the whole country was crying to be put out of sus- pense? When people were so desperate they didn’t care what bill passed, so long as the question was settled. And what did Boy Blue do? Why, he stayed up there at the Capitol, several hundred of him, fast asleep, doing nothing, while the count Sats to ee and ruin.” “ad “Yes, wi women get into office—” ba the advanced woman. “Oh, bother women in office, I say. When ‘women get into politics things will be just the same. Do you suppose a woman's natural liking for intrigue is going to drop from her at the polls? Not a bit of it. Let vote, you choose, but don’t, for eaven’s sake, think that’s going to straighten everything out. My other verse is — the office sceker: issy cat, pussy cat, where have you been? I've been to London to see the queen. Pussy cat, pussy cat, what did you there? I frightened a little mouse under the chair.’ “That's the man who comes down here to get a lot of things. He intends just to drop in on Mr. Clevelagd, show him how to run the government, bring back a nice bundle of appointments for the boys in Podunk. But he doesn’t do it. The biggest man he sees is his district's Congressman, and the nearest he comes to the President is a glimpse of a private secretary. If he does os an appointment he is like ifttle Jack Horner, whose finger in the political J does sometimes pull out a plum. In ne so much depends on one’s Mother Goose a Philanthro; “That's slang,” objected the matron, “and slang is barred. Besides, I have to go in a minute, and I want to read my verse, so pray pardon the interruption, My verse is: “There was a piper Lad a cow, But had no hay to give her; Bo took his pipes and played a tune, Consiier, cow, consider.’ “Mother Gocse is slyly hinting at philan- thropy—the sort of charity that takes pov- erty-stricken people bundles of tracts and asks a starving man about his soul. Hungry people haven't souls. It is only after you have made people physically comfortable that you can expect them to be interested in spiritual things. You can’t expect the prospeet of a glorious eternity to outweigh @ good square meal. “So,” she concluded, “when I try to re- form people, I'm going to wash them, dress them well, feed them well, and they'll be good of their own accord. And the beauty of my theory is that I have never tried it. It's such a mistake to attempt to put one’s theories into practice. It spoils them so. And, by the way, if you want to meet with a next week, I shall be delighted to have you.” The club accepted the invitation with pleasure, though Mrs. Georgetown Heights sald with cold distinctness that she would be unable to attend the next meeting. There are some things a woman never forgives, and the theft of a cook is one of them. “So sorry, dear,” murmured Mrs, De Siecle with polite insincerity. “Do try to come. Jane {s going to fry oysters for us, and you know her fried oysters are so delicious.” And then the meeting adjourned. —_ A HANDSOME OPERA WRAP. Make One Yours: That Will Be In- expensive, but Stylish. If, like the girl In the song, you “sigh for the joys that are out of your reach,” in the shape of a handsome opera wrap, why don’t you mop up your tears and go to work and make the wrap? Most women are “handy” with the needle, and if they are not, the best thing they can do is to learn to be. Exercising a talent for fancy work that will be of some benefit to somebody is much x ki; = more commendable than wasting one’s time over trashy novels or gossip. Here is a lovely design for a theater wrap, which is not at all hard to work out, in very sim- ple materials. The design shown is white broadcloth with outline embroidery in gold thread, the whole thing lined with white satin. That is quite gorgeous enough, I'll admit, but ft is susceptible of much less costly treatment with quite as rich effect. Get fine, white lady’s cloth, for instance. For linings you can take your choice of any number of rich looking materials that do not cost a great deal. Some will like to line the wrap with a bright color. Get enough of heavy flat lace—cream preferably —to go around the wrap, with vandyke points to go up the fronts of the two capes and up the center of the back. Then get gold thread and applique the lace to the cloth, after cutting it in the fashion desired. After which make the cape. The neck is finished with a band of velvet and two rosettes, which you might have match the Mnings, in case you select colored ones. In these days you may wear almost any old rag of a dress skirt, if you are only careful to have a handsome bodice and wrap for the opera. Bonnets no longer count. From wearing a big bow that tried to stretch over as much territory as the sleeves wo- men have taken to the sensible custom of removing their head coverings entirely at places of public amusement. It is a good custom, and it certainly does make an au- dience prerent a less funereal appearance to see the pretty wraps and waists of the la- dies among the black cvats of the men. ee THE ENGLISH BREAKFAST. A Reason Why the Viands at This Meal Are Always Cold. From the New York Times. The English breakfast is a meal not un- derstood by us. It may be served in the dining room or in the library. It is more often “on call” than en famille, and there is a total absence, even in highest cir- cles, of formality in dress or in service. The viands are for the most part cold. The English will tell you that this is be- cause they have learned that cold meats are more digestible than hot, and that it ts vulgar to eat a heavy meal early in the day, but a shrewd observer attributes their preference to a combination of lazy serv- ants and ‘old-fashioned stoves, which ren- ders it diMecult to get “a heavy meal early in the day.” Where hot dishes are served they are ept to be “minced veal” or a few thin crisp slices of Irish bacon. These, with new-laid eggs, invarlably bolled or steamed, which latter is done at table, all that are within reach. The cold meats, consist- ing of ham, tongue, “collared head,” ete. are placed on the sideboard. As no servant is expected to be in attendance at this meal, the gentiemen of the family go back and forth from table to sideboard serving those who ask for “helpinj The thoughtless, uninitiated American might object to such confusion and inconvenience, but John Bull delights in an affectation of simplicity, and accomplishes informality in his usual clum- sy fashion. Such a convenience as a table bell in an unknown article of furnishing. Should the servant by any chance be want- ed when out of the room, even at dinner, the mistress will rise from her chair and cross to the mantel, by the side of which is an electric button or bell pull communicat- ing with the kitchen. —_——+es+____ The Pencil and Paper. From the St, Louis Globe-Democrat. “I was calling at a house the other day,” said a man of society, “and as I found the lady I wished to see out, and had a message which I desired to deliver, I asked the maid, after vainly fumbling in my pocket for a pencil, if she could get me one. I expected, from my experience on similar occasions, a walt of several minutes while she hunted it up; to my surprise, however, she prompt- ly presented me with a neat ttle pad, to which a sharply pointed pencil was ‘at- tached, and which was evidently kept on the hall table for just such emergencies. It was a simple detail, if you will, but one which stamped that house forever in my mind as being well regulated in every de- partment, and presided over by a thoughtful woman. + Not Dangerous, From the Chicago Record. She—“Aren’t you afraid your hard work at college will injure your health?” poe not under the new foot ball rules,” GIkOMONT Atk , Schedule in effect October 21, 1806, an trains arrive gud leave, at Pennsylvania Pase S900 em. dally Local for ‘Danville and inters PM, and 8:80 a.m., al except Sunday, tion furnished ‘at offices, Bil “and 190) ‘Peuusyiras = Balirosa, m st Famenger Station ag W. H. GREEN, Gen. Sen, TURK, W, 8 pnown, "Gen! Aste Fass "bept AS PENNSYLVANIA RAILROAD, Station corner of tn and stcieta 4 a 10:30 A.M. PEN NSYLVANE ITED.—1 man Compartuient, Sleeping, Dining, Stoking aod Obese Gimp” Govind ad ak Baht ae level Card Harrisburg end t Parlor M. FAST LINE.—Pullman Buffet Parlor Car to Harrisburg. "UE Gatto axo or, rou exrunen 21 .M. AGO ST. Louis tute Buffet Parlor Car to ‘Hatboro Bleep- ing and Din! Cars Harrisbi ‘iat Jauetignend Cages © + ay Ge 7:10 P.M. WESTERN EXPRESS.—Pullman Si “tng Car ‘to’ Chi; DET oko Chicago, and Harrisburg to Cle 7:10 P.M. SOUTHWESTERN EXPRESS.—Pullman Sleeping and Dining Cars to St, Louis, and Sleep- ing, Car Plarrisburg to Cincinnati. 0:40 BoM, PACIPIC EXPRESS.—Pullman Sleep- Rochester and inira and Renovo, daily, except amsport daily, 3:15 p.m: fara Falla dally,” except Saturday, With "4 » except Saturday, Bleeping Car Washington to Hochester, is 10:40pm. for Erie, Canandaigua, iRtochester and With "Sleeping “Cat Weeniags, mira, 4 ton to and’ Kaeurdare oniy Washington, to Rochester, For Philadelphia, ork va sa pam dally, Pam. dally.” Richmoud 0, “535, V8, Bion Grid, 8:00 and 10:08 15, ye eT 1 30, 7345, 9/45 a.m., 2:45, of & M. Pr % 3, R. WOOD, pane General Manager. Gen. Vass. Agt. BALTIMORE AND OHTO RAILROAD. Schedule in effect June 9, 1894. Leave Washington from station, corner of New Jersey aven © 3 street. Chicago and North Vestibuled Limited en) p.m. Cincinnati, St. Luts’ and Yeats buled Limited, 8:30'p.m., 12:1 on, Pittsarg. and express 1s :35 p.m. Lexi ‘and Sta: 11:15 Faree see A AB ow tural Bridge, 0: his and New cars through, ‘Orleans, ts 8 30, For 4:28 For pm. & am. pm. For 09:50 a. f ress trains, st Buneipel stations, onty, abo, Pm. vy. (JB LINK FOR’ NEW YORK AND PHILADELPHIA. For Philadelphia, Xew York, “Boston and. the cast, daily, 4:20, 8:06 (10:00 am. ex. Sun. Dining Can), 43:00 Dining Car), 8: ing Car), 8:00" (11:80 p.m. Bleeping Car, open at 10:06 i Buffet Parlor Cars on all day trains. For Atlantic City, Cape May, Sea ‘Isle City and Brigantine Beach, week Gays, 4:20 and 10:00 a.m, 12:00 noon; Sundays, 4:20 a.m. and 12:00 noon, ‘a Except Sunda: ¢ Sunday only. x Express trains. Baggage called for and checked from hotels and residences by Unio Transfer Company on orders left, at ticket afices, 19 and 1851 Fa. ave, and a ® R.B. CAMPRELL. CHAS. 0. SCULL, au2 Gen. Manager. Gen. Pass. CHESAPFAKE AND OHIO RATLWAY, Schedule in effect May 13, 1804, Trains leave daily from Union station (B. and P.). 6th and B sts. ‘Throngh the grandest scenery in Amertea, with the handsomest and most complete solid train serv- fee west from Washington. 2:25 PM. . DATLY.—"Cincinnatt and St, Lonte Ma Vestibnted, newly Eyuinped, Elec- Steam-heated Train. Pallman’ sleeping cats Warhington to Cinctonatt, Indianano- Ms and St. Lonis without change. Dining Car from Washington, Arrives Cincinnat!, 8:00 a.m. Indianapolis, 11:48 a.m., and Chicago, 6:90 p.m. St; Lous, 6:55 p.m 11:10 P.M. DATLY.—The famons “PF, FV. Tim ited” A solid vestibuted train, with dining car and Pullman sleepers for Cincinnatt, Lexington and Louisville, withont change. Pollman Sleeper to Virginia Hot Springs, week days, arriving 7:50 am. Observation car from Hinton. Arrives Cine cinnati, 5:50 p.m.: Lexington, 8:90 p.m.: Louls- ville, 9:40 p.m.: Indianapolis, 11:15 p.m.; Chicago, 7:80 a.m. and St. 1 7 ct Union depot for_ali_po EXCEPT SUNDAY.—For 01d Point Comfort and Norfolk. Only rafl line. 2:25 P.M.” DATLY.—Express for Gordonsriile, Chariottesviile, Waynesboro’, Staunton and princt- pal Virginia potnts: daily, except Sunday, for Rieke moni Puliman locations anf tickets at company’s of- fices, 818 and 1421 Peonsylvanta_avenne. OW. FULL my25 ns General Pa: —— POTOMAC RIVER BOATS. STEAMER T. V. AKROWSMITH, For Lower Potomac Kiver Landi On Monday and Wednesday at + -B:00 p.m, On Saturday at. oe ‘30 p.m, Heturning’ Airive Wednesday ‘and’ Friday morn. ings, apd Sunday about 10 p.m. OG. W. RIDLEY, eral Manager. See schedule. we2s-tt ger acccmmodations first-class. ‘until bour of sail vale] FA. REED & Ou, x. ts 4GH0. 0. oa 4y26-tt STEAMER “WAKEFIE! = m 7th for river’ Indl Wicomico river, ‘ominl cre On Saturday, all above landings and Leonardtown and St. “Cloiient bay wharves. Ieturniug on ‘Tuesday, wed Thursday aod Sunday (See se eat GW. HIDLEY, “Gew'l Manager. NORFOLK AND WASHINGTON STEAMBOAT 00. DAILY LINE BETWEE) BTON, FORTRESS MO: alla og NORFOLK. new a werful Iron ‘eamers WASHINGIUN AND AUMFOLK UTH BOUND. eave Wi t 7 p. 7th st. wharf, arrive at Fi t day. Arrive at N ‘connections a The Ticks 513, 619, 1351 and 1421 Pena eyivania ave. and 615 i5th ‘st. n.w. ‘Ask for tickets via wew line. ‘Telephone 750. aplé-tt 0, CALLAHAN, ie Gen. bupt