Evening Star Newspaper, November 9, 1895, Page 19

THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 9, 1895-TWENTY-FOUR PAGES, 19 THREE NOTED WOMEN Prominent as Society Leaders in the Years Gone By. THISCITY THE SCENE OF THEIR TRIUMPH — Adele Cutts, Harriet Lane, Kate Chase as They Were Known. INTERESTING T CAREERS HREE WASHING- ton beauties of the long ago, known, in fact, the length and breadth of the coun- try, were Adele Cutts, afterward the wife of the “little siant” (Stephen A. Dougias), and now the wife cf Gen. Robert Williams, retired, of the United States army; Harriet Lane, the niece of James Buchanan, and during his presidential incumbency the lady of the White. House, and Kate Chase, the daughter of Salmon P. Chase, Secretary of the Treasury during President Lincoln's ad- ministration, and afterward Chief Justice of the Supreme Court, are still residents of this city. Their portraits as they appeared in former years accompanies this urticle. With Adele Cutts, her beauty was an in- heritance both from her father, James Madi- son Cutts, who was, way back in the fifties, controller of the treasury, and her mother, of the famous Greenough family, who was. hardly less beautiful than her daughter. Addie Cutts, as she was known in her girl- hood, was hardly fourteen when her remark- able beauty attracted universal attention. Her profile was of the purest Grecian type, and perfect in outline; her hair was a warm tint of brown, and her big brown eyes were considered her best feature. As a child her mother dressed her in the plainest merino dresses ana white aprons, in the effort to stem the torrent of admiration that greeted her daughter everywhere, but when the time came for her to take her place socially, she hecame at once the ac- knowledged beauty of the country. In mind and heart Addie Cutts was and is as beau- tiful as in person. The flattery that greeted her everywhere seemed to have no signifi- cance with her. Her beauty was a gift by right to which she had srown so accustomed Adele Catts. that she was unconscious of it. She met the great Illinois statesman at a reception at the White House. She was then a girl cf nine- teen, tall and graceful as a willow. The “little giant” was then a widower with two sons. He saw her and was fascinated, and from that moment his wooing began. ‘When Senator Douglas made his presiden- tial campaign, his beautiful wife accom- panied him everywhere, and the same adula- tion that she had received here followed her. She was at least threc inches taller than the Serator, which added to her attractiveness, and the style of dress she affected harmon- ized perfectly with her loveliness. Plain white gowns with surplice neck bodices re- vealed the faultless outline of throat and bust, and the broad blue sash tied about the Waist completed a toilet of dainty simplicity. During the illness of Senator Douglas his young wife was his devoted nurse, and after his death she was more beautiful than ever in her graceful weeds. Mrs. Douglas never cared for the notoriety her beauty and position gave her. Her man- ner is always charming, She is pious and reverential by nature, true, sincere, sym- pathetic, a true woman in every sense of the word. After the death of Senator Douglas she rarely appeared in.society, leading the life almost of a recluse. Later on she met Gen. Robert Williams, one ofthe most polished and courteous of old Virginia’s sons. A courtship followed, then came a quiet wed- ding, and the beautiful widow of Senator Stephen A. Douglas became his wife. It was an ideal love match, and a handsomer cou- ple was never seen in Washington. They lived in perfect retirement, only once when Gen. Williams was a candidate for congres- sicnal honors, did they mingle with the out- side world. The general canvassed the dis- trict of Virginia of which he was a resi- dent, his wife accompanying him. He has enjoyed a successful military career. They are now living here, and her mother is still residing with her. Mrs. Williams wears her hair in the style of thirty years ago, and dresses also in the mode of that period. Of her marriage to Gen. Williams there are six children. The two older boys are in the army and the youngest one is at college. There are two daughters in society, very pretty girls, but of a different type from the Harriet Lane. mother. The youngest daughter, still in the gchocl room, gives promise of great beauty, and bears a greater resemblance to the mother. In St. Aloysius Church in Washington, over the main altar, hangs a magniticent painting of the first communion of the patron saint, at the right of the altar kneel the mother and father of the saint, the prince and princess of the house of Gon- zaga. They are life-sized portr: of Gen. and Mrs. Williems, and with the one paint- ed of her as a bride when she married Sen- ator Douglas, are considered “y many two of the most beautiful paintings in Wash- ington. Harriet Lane, the niece of President Bu- chanan, was the only child of a dead sis- ter, and an orphan, and had resided with her uncle from her childhood. It is related of her that her charities were far reach- ing and lavish, and that, as a little girl, she was once detected hauling a wheelbarrow of wood to a poor family living near her uncle's Lome at “Wheatlands,” Lancaster, Pa. Prezident Buchanan possessed the courtly grace and elegant = ement of the gentle- men of the old school, und when he was Bent as mir T to the court of St. James his niece ac I him. She was a tall, handsome wor hair and Jarge Irish blue ey Her fair skin, with Its deep rose coloring,constituted her great- est charm. She was of perfect physique and had a manner regal in its dignity. She dressed in a matronly way, suited to her exalted position, and although unmarried women did not wear velvet gowns in those days, as a rule, yet Miss Lane frequently wore a superb black one at her receptions. She was a great favorite socially here, and, although but twenty-one when she entered the White House, she filled the duties of the position with the ease, grace and dig- nity cf a matron of greater years. It was during Mr. Buchanan's adminis- tration that the Prince of Wales visited this country and wa@a guest of the White House, which gives Miss Lane the proud distinction of being the only American wo- man who has ever entertained royalty offi- cially in her own home. At the expiraticn of Presijent Buchan- an’s term Miss Lane resided with him at Lancaster, Pa.,-where, after several years, she married Mr. Henry Johnson of Ralti- more, to whom she was devotedly attach- «a. Mr. Johnson did not live many years and left her with one son, who also died when about fifteen years old. The deaths of both husband and child were a terrible grief, and she lived in perfect retirement for some years. Several winters ago she Kate Chase. returned to Washington, and her home Waseat once the objective point of many who had known her in the years gone by. Mrs. Johnson has grown old most grace- fully, and in the glow of life’s brilliant sunset is still beautiful. When Salmon P. Chase was elected gov- ernor of Ohio he was a widower, and his eldest daughter, Kate Chase, a girl not six- teen, was installed as mistress of the guber- natorial mansion. From an artist's stand- point Kate Chase’s face might be criticised, but the popular verdict has always pro- nounced her beautiful. In dispensing the hospitalities of her father’s home she was of inestimable advantage to him. The most perfect confidence existed between them, and her devotion to him in life and venera- tion for his memory is the most pathetic Passage of her history. When President Lincoln appointed his cabinet Salmon P. Chase was given the treasury portfolio, ard he removed his family to this city. Then be- gan a season of social triumphs. His daugh- ter was soon acknowledged the most bril- lant woman in Washington, and her rare magnetism and charm of mind and manner made her the pivot around which the politi- cal satellites of that day revolved. The house at the corner of 6th and E streets northwest Mr. Chase built. It was in those days considered one of the most elegant in Washington, and here Miss Chase held her court, loved‘and flattered by, every one, the social idol of the hour. The war had congregated so many within the confines of Washington, and with the dashing regiments came municipal officers of the various states. Conspicuous among these was the young and dashing governor of Rhode Island, William H. Sprague. The Rhode Island troops took up quarters in the patent office. The governor and Miss Chase soon became acquainted, and the wed- ding which followed was, up to that time, the most brilliant ever witnessed in Wash- | ington. The Marine Band was in attendance and played a wedding march written espe- cially for the occasion and dedicated to the fair bride. Gov. Sprague’s election to the Senate opened their home to the most nota- ble people, and the wealth of the husband and beauty and intellect of the wife added to the fame of both, and with them faded this domestic happiness. Subsequent events in her history are still fresh in the public mind. FASHI ——__»—_ ABLE CUSHIONS. They Are Dressed Up With Frills and Furbelows Like a Woman. From the Upholsterer. Sofa cushions nowadays are dressed up as fashionably as a Woman: You see running down from one correr to another, for in- stance, a bodice effect, frilled and fluted, and all corners are puffed and built up like sleeves. Crowded around one of the show windows on 23d street, a few days ago, a number of ladies were wondering what these cushions were. They looked from some points like a section of a summer girl, sawed off, and from another like cari- catures of the big sleeve craze. The de- signs of every cushion were not radiating from a center, or of detached bits, but were laid out upon a set scheme from two oppo- site corners only, giving, in this way, a bust and waist effect. The sofa cushion of today is acquiring a most important position in the decorative field. It is not simply a primitive article of sublime comfort, but a convenience as well. A smoker’s cushion is sectioned so it can be opered up, and hold a pipe and box of cigars. Cushions are built around boxes— small boxes to be sure—with plenty of pad- ding about them, but built up, nevertheless, so as to have everything soft and luxurious in their feel, but hold within, nevertheless, Mary Jane’s darning and embroidery work, er possibly, as it is vaguely hinted, a deep brown tinted flask. oe Some Fashion Notes. A jaunty arrangement for a woman with a long neck is to take a yard and a half of six-inch ribbon and edge just enough in the middle of it with lace to go around her neck. Then make the ribbon in three folds | and tie in the back so that the two ends and two loops are exactly of a size. It looks stunning. Plaid ribbon is particularly pretty treated this way. To make it more effective you may strap the collar of your dress with bands of lace through which to run the ribbon. One of the odd combinations that will be much in favor this winter is browr with black. A black satin skirt, for instance, to be worn with a brown coat or long brown cape, and a brown hat trimmed with black. The combination can’t be made pretty, but if a handsome woman dons it it will carry “a heap of style,” and that is all that's necessary. Heavy, board-like satin is the favorite wedding zown material, and the maid of honor will carry chrysanthemuns till after Christmas, anyhow. Just three great big white ones, which will typify “luck, love and long lif so a dear little girl-bride told me the other day. She said she meant to have ali of the alliterative sentiments possible, so horse shoes that would fit a giant Pegasus made entirely of white chrysanthemums will decorate the arch under which they will be married, and an old pair of shoes beavtifully hand painted in white chrysanthemum design are all made ready by her maid of honor to throw after her as she departs. Another pretty fad for autumn brides is the “linen shower.” The girl friends of the bride give her a farewell dinner, and each guest brings to the feast a piece ar pieces of fine linen as a contribution to the linen closet of the bride-elect. It is a pretty, in: ensive and sensible fad. IF YOUR FOOD DISTRESSES YOU Take Horsford’s Acid Phosphte. It aids the stomach to digest the food, and does away with that full feeling after eatiug. TO MANAGE HUSBAND One Woman Explains the Whole Matter Over a Tea Cup. A STALWART POLICY ADVISED When to Broach Money Matters and When to Be Quiet. EFFECT OF ABSENCE Written for The Evening Star. - “Now that summer betrothals are about to culminate in winter bridals,” said the scribbling woman as she accepted a cup of tea fromher hostess, “I wish, Madam Bene- dick, you weuld give me your recipe for keeping your husband's admiration—you, who seem to have your spouse still at your feet, after a whole decade of wedded life. Your opinions might ‘benefit these wives-to- be, and would, at any rate, make interesting reading, flavored as they would be with novelty—most of the advice to brides-elect, as you well know, consisting in directions for the management of servants, the con- cocting of Christmas cakes, the manufactur- ing of jellies, with never a word as to the rot unimportant item of conserving a hus- band’s devotion.”” “It depends altogether upon the kind of husband one gets,” remarked Madam Bene- dick, sapiently, as she slowly dropped a lump of sugar into her own tea, “for I, now, not only would not desire the admiration of a narrow-minded, effeminate, meddlesome man—even !f I were unfortunate enough to find myself married to him—but I wouldn’t know how in the world to go about it to get it. In order to do anything, you know, you must have at least a little material where- with to work, and a man of that sort is merely a disagreeable negation.” ‘here is no engaged girl,” returned the scribbling woman, “bnt that is sure her lever, whatever he may be in reality, is the personification of all manly worth, so, what- ever you may say would for the present, at least, apply to every last one of them. Pray proceed.” How It is Done. “Well, then,” began Madam Benedick, re- flectively, as she stirred her tea with a tiny gold-bowled spcon, “granted an average broad-minded, manly man, who is neither mean about money nor inclined to snoop in the kitchen-to usurp my place as chairman of the committee on domestic affairs—and all one has to do to keep him dangling after one in the years succeeding marriage, as in the months preceding it, is simply to act after marriage as one did before marriage. There's the whole secret in a nutshell.” “That sounds easy,” remarked the scrib- bling woman, taking a sip of tea. “It sounds easy,” coincided Madam Benedick, crossing her shiny pointed-toed feet on the fender, “but the trouble is, few try it, the generally accepted after-mar- riage theory of corduct being diametrical- ly opposite to the before-marriage theory; in the engaged period a woman is on her best behavior, she is dressy, she is elusive, she is entertaining—she is making a dis- tinct effort to be nice; after marriage she is not infrequently on her worst behavior, toilet methods are no longer carefully cén- cealed, she is over frank, she is ennuied, and she doesn’t care who knows it. Now is it any wonder that men are sometimes disenchanted, since the creatures they have wedded are so different from the creatures trey wooed? “Keeping a husband enamored of one,” she went on, “like the maintainment of any other art and science, requires a little ef- fort, but as it is an effort which yields dividends of satisfaction in the long run, why I advocate practicing it. The Point of View. “Nor is it so much of an effort, either,” she explained, “for men are simple-minded souls, and being predisposed by nature to admire their wives, it isn’t at all difficult, by using a little thought, to appear utterly charming in their eyes. “In any domestic crisis, this is what I do; I immediately sit down and reflect, ‘Now, were I engaged, instead of married, how would I conduct this affair?” And you have no idea how viewing the proposition in this light often alters all my plans of action. Take the act of quarreling itself as an instance, and one can exercise as much choice as to how the campaign is to be conducted, as my military tactician will tell you, as in the selection of a winter hat. For example, to endlessly complain, and ceaselessly nag, is conjugal and matronly, while to fight downrightly while one is at it, but to finally kiss and make up and be quite done with it, is lover-like and maiden-~ ly, hence always choose the latter method. “Certainly, I sometimes quarrel. Spring, summer and autumn, beautiful as they are, would not be one-half as beautiful nor one- half as highly appreciated were there not a touch of winter against which to contrast ! them; quarreling is the winter of wedded | life, and so long as a spring invariably fol- lows no harm is done; but a whining woman makes even :nore than a six months’ arctic winter of the situation; she makes a perpet- ual frigidity, which is both disagreeable and monotonous. “When quarreling, however, it is well to restrain oneself a little, and not say things that rankle too deeply in the remembrance, else one is apt to get oneselt unpleasantly associlated—a quicksand, of course, to be avoided. When to Talk Money. “Another way of getting oneself unpleas- antly associated is to introduce painful top- ics, like bills and depleted wardrobes, at im- proper times. Men are creatures of moods, and have, as a result, their amiable and un- amiable periods. The unai ‘ble epoch, ac- cording to my researches, is, with the most of them, early in the morning, and yet that is the very time that untactful woman (with her hair quite probably in curl papers) takes to prefer her monetary claims, thereby get- ting herself confused in his mind with house rent, gas bills, shabby cloaks and other dis- tasteful things; whereas, had she possessed her soul in patience till that night after din- rer, and then stated her wants with a rose in her hair, she would quite as fully have achieved her purpose, and at the same time have maintained her reputation with him as a wingless angel. I think it is Scripture, isn't it, which says there is a time and a place for all things? At all events, the say- ing is true as Scripture.” “But the best of men are sometimes in- clined to interfere in domestic matters,” in- terposed the scribbling woman, helping her- self to another chocolate wafer. “Which is largely the fault of their wives,” explained Madam Benedick, her- self appropriating a wafer. “Never give a man a foothold on that sacred and purely feminine territory by asking his advice re- garding anything pertaining to it, or by runniig to him with calamities arisin. from it. If a servant leaves, let her leave. Go and get another forthwith instead of wasting time by falling on your husband’ neck with a tale of woe an hour long. Men, by nature, do not willingly mix in do- mestic affairs either; when they do it is a perverted taste, like that for tobacco and alcohol, which women ought never to countenance, far less foster. “Conversely, a woman shouldn't pry and peep into her husband's business, but should take it for granted that he is pos- sessor of at least as much sense in the conducting of his down-town life as is she in her home realm. Conjugal énfelicity, in- deed, arises largely,.in my opinion, from each trying to run the other, and from en- deavoring to keep the cther even in sight. New, a woman doesn’t want her husband tagging her around every second, and may it not be just barely pcssible that he, too, could mister no fortitude to endure her absence a few minutes at a time once in a while? Advantage of Absence. “You believe in the summer widower, then, I infer?” said the scribbling woman. “Emphatically,” responded Madam Ben- edick. “Distance, beyond peradventure, oc- casionally lends enchantment, because it permits a man to get a perspective view of his wife, and absence now and then cer- tainly makes the heart grow fonder, since when a woman roves in new fields she ccmes back home interested, and hence in- teresting. “A woman before marriage affects some- thing besides domesticity, does she not? Afterward, while, of course. not neglect- ing this useful talent, she should still con- PE tinue to cultivate abstractions. If a wo- man, indeed, wishes to be charming, she must be individual, she must be somebody. 1t was this that eRsmared her husband; it is this that will keep the meshes tightened about him. And why,[pray, should leaving one’s husband a few weeks strain the tie of love, when leaving one’s own family— one’s father and one’s mother—only makes the bond yet strongar!» That, if true, would be a poor commentary on the marriage rela- tion.” adhd “Summer absences, though,” suggested the scribbling wo! "are sometimes pro- ductive of jealousy. How, now, do you re- gard that emotior ts it the ‘flame of love,’ as one sa: or the ‘ashes of love,’ as another avers?” “Neither,” promptly replied Madam Ben- edick. ‘Jealousy is.rothing more nor less than a confession of inferiority, and precisely the same thing as owning up that some other woman is more attractive than ere you. “This, now, is a fatal mistake. Hold yourself high,.and you'll be highly held. Never by word or look admit that you are anything but perfect, mentally, morally, physically, for your husband, you see, has an exceptional opportunity in which to find out to the contrary, since he is going to live with you all your life; so don’t forestall any of his discoveries. “And, oh, my dear,” added Madam Ben- edick, as the scribbling woman set down her cup and began to put on her gloves, “don’t forget to dwell upon the fact that women must flatter their husbands. No matter whether they deserve it or not, flatter them just the same, for men weaken before flattery as fogs do before sunshine, end “if one only asserts nice things of them long enough and strong enough, they’ll presently all come true.” Sie eee ee GREEN AND BLACK. The Effects Which May Be Produced by Combining Such Colors. For an example of what may jie accom- .| plished with green velvet and black fur just look at the illustration. The gown is as plain as a pipe stem, princess in style, with a demi-train, and the dolman cape is of the same kind of velvet, .ined with crim- son satin, with bretelles and collar of fur. Of course, a picture Hat of black velvet, red satin Tam crown and ostrich feathers is necessary to complete the elegant cos- tume. toa Another example of'the use of green vel- vet is found in a wide pointed collar of green velvet, just the coloy,.@f a lily leaf, with a border of wide cream lace falling over the bust and shoulders + It is very easy ta. make and lightens up__ an old gown wonder: fully. In fact, it cor. ers up a “hodice tit you can scarcely teH « the color of it. A., French tmodiste aid’, the other day that a woman's dress waist, theso days is like .a salad. It doesn’t mat-.;; ter much about the... basis of e‘ther just 50: the dressing is good. i The lace fichu looks like a little three-cor- nered shaw! is coming in again. You must wear it with a vest front, and let the long pointed ends come to the bottom of the waist on each side the vest,where they are fasten- ed with tiny rosettes or bows of ribbon to match the gown. : —_ COLLARS AND CUFFS. ‘The Use of White Even in Costumes for the Winter. Linen collars and cuffs are seen on a few women, but they are generally consid- ered too stiff for graceful attire. The very prettiest collars and cuffs are made of the sheerest of linen lawn. Just a tiny band with a bit of narrowest Valenciennes lace, all to fit around inside the neck of the gown. Then a bit of a point like the cor- ner off an embroidered handkerchief to fall over the collar of the dress from this band on each side, the points not quite meeting in front. Cuffs of the same may be worn. Don’t go and make plain straight cuffs of linen lawn for those and a plain Jawn collar falling over the neck of the dress will stamp you, a3 a widow. You may put a row of five df these points around the collar if you like, Yhaking them overlap each other. And you can make the collar and points of satii) or bright silk, lace trimmed. White enters into tfie composition of al- most every garment *that is made for a fair mondaine. White velvet, cloth, silk, and satin—they all pidy a prominent part, and Washington istone of the few cities where white can be warn without fear that ft will have to be replaced each time worn. An extremely elegant dress for visiting or carriage wear is madé of old red heather cloth, with inlet panels of white broad- cloth down the front, and a narrow vest of the same. The back is princess and the seams are strapped. The sleeves extend to the shoulders, and a jaunty zouave jacket is bor(lered with’silver fox and trim- med with large gfit buttons. The hat matches the drass in color with two silver gray tips and big yelldw rosettes on it. a Everybody Was Quiet. From the Oniaha Bee. Back in the ‘70s a report reached army headquarters that the Indians in Idaho had swarmed ‘down on a little village and mur- dered every inhabitant. A second lieutenant who had just recciyed his commission was dispatched to the scene to ascertain the authenticity of the rumor. A few hours after his arrival in the village he sent this dispatch to the commanding of- ficer: ‘Everybody is quiet here.” __ Where- upon the commanding officer replied: “Your report is unintelligible. We have it from re- sponsible source that Indians have massa- cred every inhabitant.” The lieutenant an- swered: ‘Report is correct. Everybody has been massacred. Everybody is quiet.” The best and purest is sought by all. Be sure to order Huyler's Cocoa and Chocolates from your grocer. : THE VIOLENT OPPOSITION CF MEnITABEL MUGGINS, ——— BY W. J. LAMPTON. Written Exclusively for The Evening Star. Mehitabel Muggins, widow of Jethro Mug- gins of Codfish Haven, was violently opposed to the very idea of her daughter marrying the red-faced, long-legged son of Thomas Jefferson Biggs; first, because she wanted to see her Angeline the wife of a rich man, and, secondly, because Thomas Jefferson, jr., was not a rich man. * As an offset to this violent opposition on the part of the Widow Muggins, Thomas Jefferson Biggs was ready at any moment to bless the union of the two loving hearts of Angeline and Thomas Jefferson jr., and Angeline and Thomas Jefferson, jr., were already one in their hearty harmony with the views of Thomas Jetferson Biggs. Thus do we find odds of three to one against the Widow Muggins. “The very idee, Angeline,” the Widow Muggins was saying,.as she washed the dishes which Angeline wiped, “the very idee of your marrying Thomas Jeffersor. jr., is prepost’rous. Why, you ain’t got a thing in the world to go on but a few clo’s and a good constitution, and Thomas Jef- ferson, jr., ain't much better off.” “Thomas Jefferson, jr.’s, father owns the farm they live on, and it will come to him some day, mother,” ventured the rosy- cheeked Angeline. “And so do I own the farm we live on,” said the Widow Muggins, with an air of aggressive pride; ‘and it will come to you some day; but what have you both got to so on now? Nothing under the blue can- cpy, and if you get marired you'll have to go to the poor house or the orphan asy- lum, or, more like, the lun@tic asylum.” “Couldn't we marry and wait, mother?” “Wait! Wait for what? Wait till me and Thomas Jefferson Biggs dies? No, you can’t. Who'd support you while you waited?” “I can work, mother, and so can Thomas Jefferson, jr.” “I see you working. You can work in my house, and Thomas Jefferson, jr., can work on his father’s farm; but do you think I want to take a son-in-law to raise and do you think I'm going to let you go over there and slave your life out for them Biggses? Indeed, I'm not, and if you get married at all, Angeline, with my consent, you'll mar- ry a man that is able to support you and me, too, if I take a notion that I want to live with you.” “Maybe he woulin’t want you to live with us, mother,” said Angeline, hesitating] “Wouldn't?” sniffed the widow. “Wel, I'd show him very soon whether he wanted me to or not.” “Thomas Jefferson, jr., likes you, mother,” insinuated Angeline. “And Thomas Jefferson, jr., would like to live in my house. If he likes me so well, why doesn’t he nave a house where I might go if I wanted to?” “He will have, some day, mother.” = “Yes, and I'll be in my grave by that time.” “Oh no, you won't,’ ren snapped the widow Muggins. “You can’t wheedle me into givin’ my consent to your merrying Thomas Jefferson, jr., now, henceforth or forever. My mind’s made up and it will stay made up.” Angeline might have argued further, but all at once she glanced out of the door, dropped the teacup she was polishing, and, with a small scream, darted out of the kitchen into the house. It was Thomas Jef- ferson, jr., within a dozen feet of the open door, and Angeline wouldn’t have had him see her looking such a sight for anything in the world. Mehitabel Muggins looked hurriedly to- ward the door through which Angeline had vanished, and then toward the one which omas Jefferson, jr., was approaching. “Oh, it’s you, is it?” she said, in a tone of welcome that Thomas Jefferson, jr., was accustomed to. “Yes'm,” he responded, meekly. “How do you do? Where's Angeiine?” “That's more tran I know. She went out | of here without telling me where she was going.” Thomas Jefferson, jr., stood in the kitchen docr without the slightest expectation of being invited to come any farther. “I'd like to see Angeline if I couid,” hesi- tated Thomas Jefferson, jr. “Didn’t I say I didn’t know where she wes?” I guess that don’t make any great dif- ference in my liking to want to see her; would you think it did?” said Thomas Jef- ferson, jr., stumbling awkwardly over the werds. “I was talking about you just before you come up,” remarked the widow, veering frcm the subject in hand to a slight extent. “I hope you was saying something gocd, ma’am.” “I was saying the best thing I could, which wasn't saying that you could marry Angeline.” ‘Pap said he hoped I would marry her,” said Thomas Jefferson, jr., throwing the burden on his father’s shoulders. “I'd like to know what your pap’s got to do with it?” exclaimed the widow. “Is he running my family now?” she added, with i e irony. o’m,” replled Thomas Jefferson, jr., with meekness; “but he said he might as well begin now as any time.” “Oh, did he?” and the widow banged a saucer down on the table and broke it in two. “He did, did he? Well, you can go back and tell him that when [ ain't able to attend to my own business I'll hire him as a hand to do the rough work. And vou might as well tell him at the same fime that if he thinks you are going to marry Angeline, you are very much mistaken.” “Why can’t I marry her? asked Thomas Jefferson, jr., with more courage than he thought he had. The widow Muggins looked him all over very slowly, very critically, very contempt- uously, and with her nose turned up. “You're a pretty looking thing to talk about marrying, ain't you?” she asked. “You are just like Angeline. All you've got is clo’s and a constitution and no place to put ‘em. You haven't got enough to pay for the license.” “But pap ha ir. ,”’ argued Thomas Jefferson, “And so have I,” asserted the widow, with the same old aggressive pride, for to he comparisons were odious, “but that’s nu sign you are going to get it. I won't have you in my house and—" Nl take Angeline home to pap’s house,” intefrupted Thomas Jefferson, jr. “No you won't, either. I won't have my daughter slaving her life out for you and your pap, as you call him.” Over by the gate through which Thomas Jefferson, jr., had come stood Angeline in a cool, white muslin and pink ribbons, as sweet as an apple blossom. She had arrayed herself and come out of the house by another door, and Thomas Jefferson, jr., was to take her to a picnic down in the Haven woods. “Good morning, ma’am,” said Thomas Jef- ferson, jr., when he saw her, and the abrupt- ness of his parting almost made the cold chills run down the back of the Widow Mug- gins, for she had done what she could to avert this picnic in a lady-like way. Her efforts had proved all in vain, and as the two walked aw: she almost. pawed the flocr in her disappointment and anger, and there is no telling what would have happen- ed before the day had finished if a vent to her surcharged feelings had not been sent to her by a kind Providence. It came 3 o'clock in the afternoon in the comfo: person of Thomas Jefferson Biggs. Thomas Jefferson Biggs, as may be in- ferred from the use of the word “comforta- ble” in describing him, was just the sort of a person that sort of an adjective would describe. He was comfortable; he had a comfortable farm, a comfortable house, a comfortable gig, a comfortable old ho to pull it, a comfortable appetite, a comfortable digestion, a, comfortable conscience, a com- fortable temper, and, unlike Widow Mug- gins, his life-long neighbor and friend, he had a comfortable time, for he took thing: as they came and gave them up as they went. He was a widower with no one t look after except his son, Thomas Jefferson, jr., and he felt that he had ample cause to be satisfied and thankful. ‘The Widcw Muggins sat on the stoop as he approached, but he did not notice the fire in her eye, and the red ring around her nose. “Good day, Mehitabel,” he said, cheerily, as he came up. “It's anything but a good day to me,” she replied, like a great dump of gray sky into a heaven full of biue. “My, my, what's the matter? ought to be world.” “Speak for yourself, Thomas Jefferson Biggs,” she sajd, with an effort to maintain her good manners. “Tut, tut,” laughed Thomas Jefferson. “You need_a tonic, Mehitabel. I'll send Thomas Jefferson, jr., over with some that I have just had made by the herb doctor. It’s guaranteed to make the sunshine on the cloudiest of the year.” You and I the happiest people in the “Well, don’t sent it by that boy Thomas Jefferson, jr,” she snapped. ° “Why, Mehitabel, what is the matter with Thomas Jefferson, jr. “You know well enough, Thomas Jeffer- son,” she half whimpered, and then she be- came strorg and went on. “And right here I want to tell you, Thomas Jefferson Biggs, that that Thomas Jefferson, ir., of yours shall never marry my Angeline. I have something higher for her, and I will never consent to her marrying against my will.” Mehitabel Muggins was tangling up her Janguage, and Thomas Jefferson Biggs laughed. “Oh, you may laugh,” she went on, getting redder in the face, “but I mean just what I say. Angeline hasn’t got anything to marry on, and Thomas Jefferson, jr., hasn't, and I'd like to know what in the name of good- ress they are going to do to make a living?” “Work, Mehitabel,” suggested Thomas Jefferson Biggs. “Where'll they work?” she retorted. “I won't take no son-in-law to raise, and An- geline shan’t go to your house to slave her life cut for the Biggses.’6 “We might rent a small place for them, or buy it and set them up comfortably,” said Thomas Jefferson Biggs. “Then I'd like togsnow what's to become of me,’" almost sobbed Mehitabel Muggins. m sure I can't live all by myself and let my only child go out in the world without my help and advice.” ‘The widow was actually sobbing now, and Thomas Jefferson Biggs pulled a big red silk handkerchief out of his pocket and stuck his, nose into it, sympathetically. ‘And think of me, Mehitabel,” he said. T, too, will be all alone, with my only child gone out into the world without my help and. et 2 “I don’t know what’s going to ha n,”” sobbed the widow, without any arecutee aproposeness to anything. Thomas Jefferson Biggs laughed and lavghed so heartlessly that the widow look- ed at him in amazement through her tears. “If I tell you how to arrange it all, so that Angeline and Thomas Jefferson, jr., will have a home of their own, you will have a home of your own; and I wiil have a home of my own, and none of us will have to live alone, will you be satisfied?’ he asked her. “Indeed, Thomas Jefferson, I would,” she said after the manner of helpless women when relief is promised. “Well, then, let Thomas Jefferson, jr., move into your—” “Didn't I tell you I wouldn’t take any son- in-law to raise?” and she became aggressive again. “Well, then, let Angeline come to my—”" “Didn't I tell you Angeline shouldn’t slave her life—” Thomas Jefferson interrupting her. “Very well, madam,” said Thomas Jef- ferson Biggs, with great dignity, “there is Biggs laughed again, but one other course to pursue. You must ccme to my house and take—' “Wha—wha—what do—, the Widow Muggins b2gan to splutter. “Charge of me,” continued Thomas Jef- ferson Biggs, “and let the children take your house and farm. Then you won't have any son-in-law, and won't have any daughter-in-law, but will all be one family, with Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Jefferson Biggs in charge of everything, and Mr. and Mrs. ‘Thomas Jefferson Biggs, jr., as tenants.” Then Thomas Jefferson Biggs stooped down and kissed Mehitabel Muggins with a loud explosion, and as strange as it may seem to those who expected something more of a temper such as Mehitabel Mug- girses, she actually put her head down on the shoulder of Thomas Jefferson Biggs and telt comfcrtable for the first time since the departure of the late lamented Jethro Mug- sins of Codfish Haven. ——__. ABOUT LINGERIE, It Used to Be All Handwork and Made at Home. Once upon a time a girl who was going to get married had to put the marriage day a long way off—a year or more, mayhap, so that she could-get her lingerie ready for the important epoch. Everything was in doz- ens, and it was all hemstitched and cross stitched; drawn worked and appliqued; feather stitched and embroidered within an inch of its life. In fact, when the muslin and linen, the cambric and lawn garments were laid aside in their silver and lavender wrappings they were almost too delicate and Cleaning Things and dyeing them is our trade. We don’t do anything else; that’s why what we do is done the very best. Kid Gloves can be cleaned and made as good as new at small expense—ioc. up. Soiled Curtains cleaned by our process are bright and fresh like new, and perfect- ly intact. We like to clean the most delicate Jaces ,— no one else can. Prices, 75. to $3 per window. Party Dresses make important cleaning. We put skill and intelli- gence into it. Our patrons are al- ways well satis- fied. The cost depends -on_ the \ cleaning — $2.50 . up. Draperies, table covers, plush curtains, damask curtains, portiercs, cushions, rugs, &c., freshened and dingy pattern brought out> Blankets cleaned by us are white and soft—not shrunk and ‘hard like some you have had done. $1.50. per pair. No charge for rebinding with silk ribbon. ! The Suit is not ruined. Send it to us. We'll clean it thoroughly in a way to surprise and delight you— cost only $2.50. Overcoat ought to +e cleaned, too. Cost (medium weight), $2. We'll dye both if you wish. We have facilities for dyeing thaf are unsurpassed. A. F. BORNOT, French Scourer and Dyer. 1103 G Street Northwest. Ith & Fairmount A‘ 1535 Chestnut St. 113 South Tenth St, 1623 Columbia Ave. Wilmington, Del., 716 Market St. ‘Trenton, N. 3 Montgomery St. Philadelphia frail to wear. Every stitch set in them was done by hand, and no machine was ever made that could do daintier or nicer work than the taper pink fingers that caught so many day dreams under the “two threads down and one up” of the infinitiesimal hems. In this utilitarian day women don’t trouble themselves so much about “hand work” on undergarments, and an engagement of last week can be consummated this, and the whole magnificent trousseau can be pur- chased at a “ready-made” shop, the degrees of fineness regulated by the size of the bill you expect to lay down for it. There are some, however, who still like to make their own pretty lingerie. Unless one has a lot of money to spend on ready- made garments, the materials used are not always of lasting quality, and the sewing is second-class. The very prettiest and most lasting material to put into lingerie which is to be moderately fine is the English “long cloth.” It is probably made in Rhode Is- land, but it is quite as good as though sold by “the muskn man to her majesty.” An extremely pretty design for a night gown is to make it like the illustration, the wide pointed collar doing away with the trimmed | yoke. A ruffle of embroidery about the neck might improve it for some, and a pretty in+ novation for sleeves is to stripe the full bishop sleeve with inseftion of embroidery. The back is made with a short yoke and the center of the back widths is sharply biased and gathered in closely to the center | of the yoke, makimg a graceful flare at the bottom. The collar is pointed back as well | as front. If it is desired to make the neck | close, gather the collar slightly and make | the yoke higher in front. ‘The effect is quite as pretty as the other. tin A postal card will bring us \ our door. it ARTFUL FRENCH BUTCHERS. No Suggestion of Slaughter in Their Tidy -Littie. Shops. From the Ladies’ Home Journal. Butchers’ meat in France is prepared, di- vided and arranged in the shops in such a manner that it never suggests slaughter. It is a rare thing for one to see a stain on counter, bench or floor. The mode of kill- ing the animals probably has something to do with this freedom frem moisture and dripping. The animals are not bled before being killed, as might be inferred from the absence of moisture, but they are ‘killed in such a manner that veins and arteries are emptied quickly and thoroughly. After this the animal is bouffee, that is, filled with wind. The large arteries are pressed open and the points of large bellows are inserted them. While the belloms.are being worked a man beats ali parts of the car- cass with a flatstick. This is to distribute the air in all parts of the flesh. All this work is done very rapidiy. The inflating of the animal in this man- ner gives a fuller -and--firmer’ appearance to the meat, and, I fancy, empties the veins and arteries more effectually than they would otherwise be..The French use very little ice, and méats are kept only a few days at the most. The best of beef in France does not compare with American beef, but the veal is superior to anything we have. It is valued more highly than any other product of the butcher. But no matter what the viand, when it comes to the hand of the cook, it is so prepared that she has little to do to it except to cook it. —— He Gets $400 for His Time. Judge Brown, in the United States dis- trict court, Saturday handed: down a de- cision in the libel of John M. Hawley against the steamer Normannia and the Hamburg-American Packet Compariy, as owners. Hawley was a passenger from Southampton on August 27, 1892. Cholera broke out on the voyage and he was de- tained seven days at quarantine and six days on Fire Island. He said he was de- ceived by the company’s agent in South. ampton, who, he alieged, had told him the ‘ormannia had not taken any steerage Fissengers on board at Hamburg. Judge Brown decided that the case was not one for punitive @amages and awarded the li- bellant $400. aad Another New Woman. From Life, “Lady, I understand yer want a nurse what can ride a bicycle wid yer children.” FY