Evening Star Newspaper, February 6, 1897, Page 20

THE EVEN ING STAR, SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 6, 1897-24 PAGES. WHAT YOU MUST HAVE. Suggestions From Paris for Ultra- Stylish Gowns. HINTS ABOUT SKIRTS AND SLEEVES A Handsome Velvet Gown is Quite | the Thing. > FOR CALLING AND AT HOME Special Cocrespondence of The Eventi - PARIS, January 23, 1897. After a few days in Paris I begin to ge used to the imperative. Elsewhere it ts, | “Would you not like?” Here it i “You must have.” The superiority of French taste has been conceded so long that Pari- sian dressmakers have become autocratic, and if one of their decrees does not be- gin “it is necessary" the only variation to be expected Is a polite circumlocution for “you ought” or “you should.” I am hav- | ing “vous avez besoin d’avoir’—rattled off | at me so often and so glibly that I feel ; the need of passing it along. Therefore | “You have need of” a velvet dress, for a beginning. 1 insist,” borrowing my phraseology from the sources above mentioned, upon Black is good, dark blue is good, | own is better, dark green fs best of all. | ‘ou should” line such a dress with white ellow or water green. show the lining as you lift it may please upon exhibition, have unlimited frills inside the With irt of this order “it is sary” that you wear a silk blouse in Color. Over the blouse come a bolero of some deli-| velvet you must hem. a light colored velvet, preferably of | same tint as the skirt lining. This | ro requires embroidery in gold and | jewels. You need a black satin corselet and some dainty finish of white or cream col- ored jace at the throat, and then your visiting or reception tume is “comme il faut,” as it is necessary. I cannot talk back to military greatness, m epe the manners of my betfe: + despot in my turn. You are if you care to show yourself well fashions, to wear your xs high upon the shoulders. bon or velvet and large rib- bon bews stand erect. They are wired if they refuse to do so. for they must not flare al the sides. You will show your understanding of the situation if you have an evening bodice with a high wired collar from the shoulders, but this is not obliga- tory. The Proper Sleeve. You must be quick to catch the new lines of the sleeve. To gather it In at the shoulder without any rise to it, let it hang almost in a bag to the elbow, then tighten it gradually and not with any pinching exactness to the wrist aud let it flare broadly over the hand, is the mode for next spring. Look at pictures of 1810 of the decade that Conan Doyle writes of in his newest book, if you need a more detatled description. There is less full- ness and more droop at the shoulder, a looser cut and with more curve and flexi- bility from elbow to wrist and a more daring outburst at the wrist than you wet in the experimental, transitional sleeve of today. Every bodice, jacket and cloak has a most enormously high collar of lace or chiffon: or if the collar fs of silk or velvet, it is cloven. so that lace or chiffon can be introduced between. The sacque-back coat continues the fa- Vorite model in cloth or fur. It is better alled a whole-ba~k coat, for this better expresses what is really meant—that it has no seam in the back at all. Some- es the front hangs straight also, but for this there is only silent permission, not ap- proval. One box pleat on either side of the front is according to the letter of the law, NOT HIS From Life. A GRO OF MIDWINTER MODI and gives a much better figure. Great numbers of bodices have these box pleats in front, coming below the waist, and they are becoming more and more the smiled- upon design. For every evenitig bodice you must be prepared to squander material enough for two, the drapings are becoming so_intri- cate. It is now quite according to rule to combine, sometimes one might better say piece together, four designs, having the two fronts different each from each and from the two backs, which claim the same Privilege. It fs not easy to do this and | achieve harmony, and perhaps that is why she who must be obeyed thinks it worth trying. Madame Paris, otherwise “she,” sticks to broad corselets back and front, but has at the same time a weakness for extremely narrow metal belts studded with jewels. 4 There are no changes in skirts that are at all startling. The safest model at pres- ent is gathered on a thick cord about the hips, so as to throw the fullness behind. It is moderately full at the foot, and is far more becoming than those of yesterday, which stood out so formidably at the sides. Populnrity: of Bald. + You can make no mistake in using as much braiding as possible. It ‘is quite according to rule at the moment to have lapeis, epaulets, collars and cuffs of a light shade contrasting with the dress, and on these to display black braiding in vermi- cell or much involved arabesque patterns. Neither can you err, if you desire a cloak of ground length, in getting one of redin- gote style. This shows that you fully ap- | Preclate the subsidence of skirt and siecve. There are not many new materials, but a new idea in materials is exemplified In a very pretty evening dress just finished to figure at the court of Spain. A robe of black net, glinting with gold and jewels, is lined with pink chiffon, and this again is cleverly draped in the loose | empire style over a princess gown of black satin. A very short black satin bolero 1s lined with pink and edged with lace; it is so cut as to meet on either side the opposite points of the fan-shaped epau- lets in fluted and wire net that springs from the shoulders. Garlands of pink leaf- less roses cover the short sleeves and out- line the square opening of the bodice. A few coms are strewn on the skirt draperies. There is a bertha of finely pleated net sprinkled with rose petals and pearls. Another evening dress that seems to me among the best now on exhibition is of a very delicate oll rose brocade, one of the smartest colors of the season. At one side of the skirt is a panel edged with gold and Jeweled passementerie, and tied across with straps The same passementerie edges the fan- shaped bodice in front, which opens on the left side. A puffed bertha of old rose mousseline de sole is drawn about the | shoulders, and peeps out from under the’ bodice fan and all the way to the ground from beneath the skirt panel. The short sleeves are of mousseline de sole, with gar- niture of roses. A handsome visiting dress of silver gray- corded silk is just ready for shipment to America. The bodice has a zouave of sil- ver and jet passementerie lined with silk of a tawny mandarin yellow and having long, iong-pointed hanging fronts, coming weli dcwn upon the skirt draperies. Two van- dykes of the same passementerie ornament the front of the skirt, which is otherwise richly plain. Epaulets in the Yorm of small double capes, black satin bows to hold the zevave in position in front and a broad folded belt of black satin are the only ac- cessories. Suitable for Easter. Altogether different in style is a prome- nade dresss for the Riviera, that favored land of sunshine from which I hope to be writing again very soon. It Is warm enough at San Remo or Mentone to dispense with wraps very frequently in the early after- con, and s» winter dress for that climate is not unlike what New York will see about Easter. The gown of which I am thinking has a skirt of olive green velvet. This is almost entirely covered by an overskirt of dark violet cloth which comes to the grcund, but is caught up a bit on the right side. Arabesque embroidery in olive green cord borde-s it and covers the narrow belt of the skirt material. The bodice is a vel- vet crossover blouse, if such a term can be owed. It opens a bit in front to show a viclet cloth vest, and above it is a very shert violet silk bolero with olive green em- broidery. Fluted silk epaulets cover the teps of the velvet sleeves. The large hat, of olive green straw is trimmed with violet ritbon and with foliagé. A big bow of FA “Pardon “They me, madam, but is one of the persons a man?” are both women.” “Oh, Venus! Another errow wasted!* sequin | and bows of old rose ribbon. | white tulle at the throat adds the finishing touch to this study in blue and green. "Tis a jump back again to midwinter to pass on to a skating dress buried in fur, and quite Russian in appearance. Warm and cozy it looks with its redingote cut of peppy red cloth edged with a deep border of mink fur. A mink cape with a high collar Hes over the shoulder, its long point- cd ends passing under the metal bell at the waist and hanging almost to the ground. In spite of its fur the dress is trim enough for active exercise, but almost too warm for real skating. Among the newest models is a very-at- tractive dress for house weer. A robe of fawn-colored cloth with a narrow edging of gold cord embroidery opens upon 2 princess gown of rose-tinted moire. A broad sash of rose-colored silk confines the waist, and at the throat is a flat, pointed collar lef cream-colored lace with standing collar of rose ribbons above. A graceful dinner dress for a young girl just admitted to the pleasures of society is a princess gown of turquoise blue silk with Ereteiles of white silk set into the arm- holes in front, clasped by gold buckles on either side of the waist. outside of the white silk corselet, and hanging like long sash ends to the ground. From the high | collar escapes a flaring ruche of white lace. The young Queen of Holland has ordered a girlish evening dress of pale yellow chine, the bodice draped with yellow chiffon and powdered with silver sequins. Garlands of Tosebuds are the decorations. Dress at the | theaters is rather good, but here is more than enough for now. ELL eee HOUSEHOLD re HINTS BORN. It is a thousand pities that mothers can- not appreciate their opportunities to de- velop their awkward and unprepossessing | children into personable young men and woman. So often mothers say that certain of their children, usually a girl, 1s so plain, | so awkward, so different that she keeps | her in the background lest people will re- | mark it. That is unkind, and all but cruel. Suppose the child's features are irregular, it is the soul behind that makes real beauty, after all. Much can be done to overcome some of the defects, if mothers would only have patience. A muddy, dark complexion can be cleared to a pretty olive { by careful attention to the diet of the child. ; Thin, tatty hair can be made soft and plia- | ble by washing, brushing and clipping. De- fects in walking, which are often permitted | to grow into positive deformity, can be corrected in youth. Stubby fingers and IIl- shaped nails can be trained into tapered, well-conditioned ones with a modicum of care. Then the voice, so often shrill and harsh, can be made musical and pleasant with constant correction. Of course, all this takes time, but the recompense’ will come when the ugly duckling of the flock eclipses her more beautiful sisters in so- c.ety. Cultivation of the mind and soul Is, after all, the ambition that should fire a mother’s heart, and if she neglects to do it no amount of beauty training will avail her much. Some people think that much brushing of the hair harms the roots and kills the young hair. There is undoubtedly some truth in this, for a very stiff brush irritates the scalp to bleeding quite often, and that is very bud. One woman who has beauti- ful hair says she uses a silk handkerchief on her head. She parts the hair and rubs the scalp with the soft silk, and then takes the long strands of hair between folds of the ail and rubs them vigorously. It wokes out the superfluous grease and much of the dust, and leaves the hair shining like satin Silk is best, because it is t soft break and roughen the hair, | @"4 Will not Physicians say that there should be a war ccmmenced against tea drinking. cor sider it almost as bad a habit for oe, men as whisky for men. For the dyspep- tlc stomach or for a woman with “neres” it is simply poison. Coffee is not so but is best without cream or sugar.) ?*% A delicious banana dish is made as fol- lows: Select large ripe bananas, :vash anil but In @ hot oven tn a bake pan, and bake ull the skin bursts open. Take out aml Herfomath butter and salt, as with baked betatoes, or as dessert or outre with pow- dered sugar and cream, ed Ham fritters ere very nice. ham sliced thin, one egg beaten Ji spoonful of milk and teaspoonfitl e Cold hotlea f tea flour, a bit of chopped parsley, or, if you 2 spoonful of cheese grated’ in, nies slices of ham In the batter, and a light brown in sweet fat. ny sy Canned salmon can be made a very petizing dish, if you only take the can and set it in a tin of boiling water for fifteen minutes, to steam done. Have ready slices of toast, nicely buttered, and tender. Also a white sauce made of milk thickened with flour and seasoned with butter and salt. Take a spoonful of the salmon and break it lightly over the hot toast, and as you serve pour a little of the gravy over it. Don’t smooth the salmon down, but break the lumps lightly with a fork. You who have a tot of highly polished brass things that take hours every few days to polish them up ought to be thank- ful for this recipe, which is considered quite perfect. Polish the brass things, andirons, condlesticks or doorknobs, then use this preparation: To halt a pint of methylated spirits—alcohol—add half an cunce of shellac. It must stand a few days in a lightly corked bottle, shaken oc- casionally. Pour off the clear liquid for use. Paint the brass with a soft brush, dipped in this Hquid, while the brass is warm. It evaporates rapidly, and but little should be poured out at a time. Not a speck of flour should be kneaded into bread after it has once been set to rise. Kneading more flour intp the dough only adds unieavened flour to the mass and 1s almost sure to make the. bread heavy, leaves the bread dry, and all be- cause the yeast has no time ‘to reach it. Bread crumbs are really better for bread- ing oysters and cutlets than crackers, for they are not so tough and take up less grease than cracker crumbs, “My daughter will know enough by the time she is married to become head cook in a swell restaurant, if such should be her fate,” said a wise mother not long since. “That way lies good health, in my opinion. The woman who puts her meat to roast in @ luke-warm oven in @ puddle o: ~ster on the bottom of the pan, instead of into « Lot oven, upon a rack in @ pan, without mots+ ture; who cooks steak in a pool of grease instead of broiling it: who cooks corn beef at @ gallop till it is like @ piece of leather ap- time. Open instead of “letting it simmer gently till doe; who feeds hey children on kiln-dried ples and muddy coffee, and her husband on angel food and gelatine messes, ought to | be made to do penance with dyspepsia between perpetual pleadings for pardon to God, who made her human, but who sank her birthright to the level of the brute from ignorance.” : The wise mother will provide her small children’s restless feet good overshoes or rubbers, so that they may play outdoors, at least a portion ef the day, without danger of damp feet. A pair of warm leggings ought to be added, and these with a warm hood and a snug coat will place them out of danger of colds. It is very bad policy to coop children up in the house all winter, and they are much more lable to colds when they get infrequent sniffs of fresh air. If by chance a child's feet do get wet, pull off its shoes and stockings and gi the feet a good hot bath, and put on dry coverings. Never sit yourself, nor permit your children to sit, with damp feet. It i a fruitful source of throat and lung dis eases, a8 well as colds. Such a simple dish as oysters on toast is too “infrequent, when oysters are really cheaper than’meat. “Toast, nicely and ten- derly browned;sshould be buttered evenly and set in the gven to keep warm. Set the oysters simmeying in their own liquor— they should first be lifted from the’ liquor into a colander and have a dash of cold ter to free’them from grit, and the liquor should be strained. In another pan have as much. milk as is required for a sauce. When at the boliiug point stir in one well-beaten gx to each pint of milk, a tablespconful of butter, and salt to taste at the last. \Stir into’ the oysters, and stand in a hot covered dish on the table, to be ladled over the toast, as served on the hot plates. ae AS T6 THE FASHIONS. The Tatlor Explained How the Clothes Must Be+Built to Be in Style m the Chicago Post, ‘The tailor stood the man up on the block and then stood off across the room to study the coat from a little distance. After’ two or three minutes of reflective observation he shook his head and took a look at it from another direction. Then he came closer, pulled it down a little here, juffed it up a little there, and shook his head again. “What idiot made that coat?” he asked at length. “Don't you like it?” returned the man on the block, very -naturally offended at the question. The tailor shrugyed his shoulders ¢ sively. ‘ “Oh, if the man makes no pretense ’of do- s- ing fashionable work,” he said, “it will pass. But what's the matter with it?” de- manded the man on the block. “Everything,” replied the tailor. ‘There is the collar, for instance: “Collar!” roared. the man on the block. “Why, that Hes around my neck as snug and even as any one could wish.’ “No doubt,” answered the tailor. “Then if you will turn to the glass you can see the absurdity of the back.” After a careful inspection the man on the block announced that it looked to him as smooth as a board. ‘There isn't a wrinkle in it,” he saic ‘Very likely,” responded the tailor. then,” he added, “there is the crowning ab- surdity of the body cf the coat and the way it hangs when buttoned.” “It's perfectly. comfartable, not too loose and doesn’t wrinkle,” protested the man on the block. “That is apparent to any one,” admitted the tailor. “Then what's the matter with it?” “Why, principally just the points that I have enumerated,” said the tailor. ‘fo put it more briefly and in a little plainer lan- guage, I might say that, from the stand- point of the present fashions, the fault lies in the fact that it fits. What you need if you are going into society is a coat that has been fitted to an open umbrella and that won't touch you anywhere except on the shoulders. If it looks well on you, you may put it down at once as decidedly out of date.” ——s MARK TWAIN. He Narrowly Exeaped Being Fired Be- cause His Funny Staff! Was Awful. From the Chicago Ti:nes-Herald. It is a Denver newspaper tradition that the funniest bit Or journalistic work ever done by Mark Twain was strangled by a too frien lly proof-reader. Mark was given an assignment to write up the opening of a saloon—quite # nofeworthy event in those days in the Cdloradp town. H> thought it would be furay to. make his account ot the festivities bear silent witness to the potency of the free yefreshments dispensed. The article began soberly enough, but soon the diction became misty, then the spelling grew confused: and’ finally the whole thing degenerated into a ‘maudiin, incoherent eu- logy of the saloon keeper. It was funny. Mark read it over and laughed until he cried. But the next morn- ing when he eagerly scanned the paper he could not find’ his work. In an obscure corner he saw'‘a tw6-line Item stating ‘that “the Alcazar Saloo# was opened with ap- propriate festtHties last night.” ‘That was all A He rushed déwn to the office and inquir=1 about his article. The managing editor knew nothing’ abogt it. The city editor couldn't tell What had become of it. The foreman szid he hadn't seen it. As Mark was snorting about the “out- rage” ard was running about the office trying to get track of the missing copy « proof reader slyly nudged hin and said, confidentially: “You owe me a cigar. “How ts that?” inquired the humorist. “I've earned It,” was the reply. “I saved your job for you last night. May be you don’t know how the old man here feels about such things, but he won't have it if he fiads it out. He's fired three men since I've been here—Just that wa: “Just what way?” * “Why, just as you were last night, you know. ‘Your stuff wouldn't do at all; it was simply awful. I knew if the old man saw It you were gone, so f fixed it up my- self.” Ss ‘The Lost Coun From the Youth's Companion, A novel reason for curiosity. was lately given by a tall, lank westerner to a New England spinster on a southern bound train. The western man took the seat be- side the New Englander, it being the only one unoccupled. She did not look at him, but, though her eyes were fastened on’ her book, she felt his gaze scrutinizing her} face. i After a moment he sald, genially, “Howt dy do?’ ‘phe spinster glanced up from her book, and seeing the guilelessness of the elderly face, sald, balf-unconsciously, “How do you do? I’m pretty well,” replied the westerne: nd what might your name be, ma’am? “It might be anything, I presume,” re- turned the spinster, with dignity, and yet not being able to feel exactly offended, “but it is Brown. “Thank ‘e,” said the westerner, looking somewhat disappointed. “I hope there's no harm done by my asking.” “Certainly not,” said the spinster, un- bending a ilttle in spite of herself. “You see,” explained the westerner, con- fidentially, “I’ve got a cousin about your age, I should judge, down in Georgia, that I ain’t ever seen; and I might come on her some time just by asking folks their names; and I don’t ever expect to see her unless it is in jest some such way, ma’am.” After which silence fell upon’ the two, until, half an hour later, the westerner spoke again as he rose, bag in hand. “I see a seat over there by a middle-aged lady,” hé said, “and I'm going to’see if maybe she’s the one. You see this cousin's the only living relation I’ve got, and I should like to run across her; but if that lady ain’t the one, there's no use my try- ing any further in this car, for all the rest of the women folks are too young.” So saying, he went over to the other sea’ but a moment or two later he returned with a crestfallen expression on his™thin face. “She ain't the one, either,” he said. ‘Then he sank into‘ his seat and said noth- ing more till he #eached his destination, when he bade.the New England spinster “Good-by!"” and departed. —+—_ +002 Always at {he Wrong Time, From the Chicago Pagt. Weary Will, who was sometimes known as Beery Bill, ‘had applied for a little finan- ctal relief, ani thé man to whom the ap- plication had -been, made thought he saw @ chance to db a Hittle missionary work. “Did you. ever etop to think,” he asked, “how much good #-dollar wil! do?” “Often,” answered Weary Will, prom; ly, “but neves. when I had the dollar.” ONE’S OWN FIRESIDE Preferable at All Times to Boarding House Life. BUT HOUSEKEEPING HAS MANY CARES Senora Sara's Good Advice to Young Married People. Mh ee Be A CASE OF GIVE AND TAKE) Star, HE IS NOT HAP py,” I heard one lady say to another,speak- ing of a young Written for The Evening friend of mine, mar- ried little over two ) years. “No; she was Areared a lady, and 4 should have married Wy gentleman of lei- sure,” was the re- sponse, “I think they made a mistake when they quit boarding and went to housekeeping,” chimed in a third. lie Knows nothing about hor sekeeping, and she is quite well fitted to shine in soci- | ety. I think her husband must be a selfish brute to want to tie her down to the care of a house and baby,” and the wise young matron, whose husband gets a $1,500 sal-| ary, inadequate by half for the style they | support, sailed off to her hired carriage, | and I changed my plans and went to pay? Nellie and her new baby a long-deferred | ean ifpind the Minturns in a neat tittle house in, the northwest suburbs, struck with the wan, worn appearance of | my once fresh-faced Nellie, not all of the} suffering the new Ines betrayed being put to the credit of the new baby, I felt I dandied the baby til it went to d_ talked and used my eye: One but was 80 into the house of even one’s bes and say abruptly, “They say you un- | happy What is the matter?” “But I didn’t | nea any assurance of the fact. see it in Nellie’s face, and I felt i atmosphere of the room. There was week old dust on the mantel scarf, the tidies were all awry, lint was visible under the unused big chairs and parlor tete-tete, and the piano looked as though its soul might have fled. “I have been wanting to see you,” Nellie *aid, after she had scratched a place on the couch whereon to deposit the sleeping child. “I don’t mind telling you that Lam very unhappy, and I want some advice.” I thought of divorces and alimony and varlous other concomitants of unbappy | married life. while Nellie was calmly cov- ering her offspring, and secretly wondered how the girl could be so composed, when she must feel that she was on the very edge of an abyss. 5 Now, this house is a sight,” th a comprehensive w as she sat down bes‘de me, “but do you know TI have not the slightest idea how to attack it to reduce it to a civilized condi. tion? Every time I stir things up they get worse demoralized. I know that seems ab- surd to a capable woman like yourself, but it is nevertheless true. You know’ m: mother’s house was like a bandbox, but we had servants there that were born in my grandfather's house and grew up cap- able. An oniy girl among five brothers, as | I was, doesn’t have much opportunity to learn housekeeping, because there is 00 much fun going on, and my mother didn't like to worry with me, teaching me what a ‘capable’ girl ought to learn by instinct, as she thought. Mother died while I was in college, I married soon after graduating. and we boarded for six months, then I sald it was time to have a home of our own, and we began buying this property. I may have made a mistake.” she added, I could | t in the | ” Nellie said, ve of her hand: thoughifully, and I saw tears in her tired eyes, “but it seems to me that married people ought to have homes. My home used to be so happy. when ihe beys were . Father an made it at- e for our friends, and we had but little desire to go elsewhere. I wanted a home like that for my own, so that Fred would like to spend his evenings in it in-j stead of in the club rooms, or the smok- ing room of a boarding house. I wanted the first memory of our baby to be of a pleasant home—do you think that I made a mistake?” she concluded, impulsively grasping my hands. “Is it not better tor young married people to have a home of their own, to make a start at once, than to fritter away two or three years in a boarding house?” A Woman‘s View of Boarding. Now, if there is any one thing in the world that I have opinions on of the most decided character, it is that boarding house life is demoralizing to young married peo- ple. It Is bad enough for those who are old enough tc have some sense, but it is worse for those who are just starting in life. Briefly as possible, I assured Nellte that she was right in’ theory, at least. Then I waited to get at the root of the trouble, feeling sure that she was going to make a clean breast of the whole business, since she found me a sympathetic listener. “I'm so glad to have you say that,” she returned, as she dashed her handkerchief across her eyes, “so very glad, because most of my friends have discouraged me so about it, and have told Fred that I was ‘going off’ in looks, and asking him if it was a housekeeper or a companion he wanted, till he gets perfectly savage over it, and threatens to go back to boarding again. You see, I figured ft all out that b: careful economy we could live within Fred’s salary, and buy our house at the same time. When we boarded we lived the sal- ary quite up, and had nothing to show for it but—indigestion,” she added, with a teary smile. ‘We have the indigestion yet, I fear, but at least we are getting our home paid for. Fred says he doesn't mind the bad cooking or the other inconveniences that he is too kind to say my ignorance puts him to, but he declares that he can't and won't endure seeing me breaking down. Now, give me a good strong dose of ad- vice. “Have you no servant?” I asked, hesitat- “I wonder why Mrs. Templeton wears such “Zo harmonize with her husband's rye nose: | fi delicate matter, h, dear, Yes,” she replied, with a nerv- ous little laugh. “I have had six in two weeks. If I could only write a book on my experience with applicants for service with me, Mark Twain wouldn't be in it with the reputation I would get as a humorist. The girl I hired yesterday Fred ‘fired’ morning, as he puts it. He went Into the kitchen to hurry up his breakfast and found her using my solid silver forks for stove lifters. She sald it wouldn't hurt them, because they were solid. was plated, of course, it would wear t! off,’ she remarked, ‘complacently. told her his patience was very thin! with good nature, and he couldn't that, so she left the fork in the grid the Steak on the broiler and flo} The worst of it is, we are running behind I am sure that we ought to be able to live comfortably and have a balance each month on Fred's salary, but there seems to be a leak somewhere. “Perhaps it is mostly in the kitchen,” I uggested, Knowing how easy it is for in- cempetent servants to wa: the best of naierials “1 think it fs," she ith earnest | frankness, “The blind the blind isn’t a cirevmstanc to my denseness the Kitchen. Fred threatens me with the boarding hose e > finds that I have been in that region of the house and insists that the cook should be able to at- tend to matters there. So she should, bu: I have not found one that will. I pay good wars chen is a marvel of modera con but that seems to have no effect whatever on the servants. ‘They know I am ignorant, and they pre- me upon it, ai is the amount of it. Our grecery bilis are enormous, yet we do not h iaany luauric and our tastes ‘Then our house linen! Why, I had stacks of it when we were married. The handsomest of this I have rever taken from the boxes in Wich it was presented. But although I have had my new linen in use but about a year, the last lady of the kitchen informed m+ that he towels were ‘all’ and that nearly every cne of my “handsome linen sheets ve are rot at ail expens' was whipped oui ai the corners. A Simple Remedy. It was with a feeling of intense relief that 1 discovered that Nellie’s unhappiness uuld be cured by a cook, outside of the courts, if taken in time, and the medicine I gave her took the [ dueed circum: s. bat wide home- keeping knowl who was delighted to a safe r such pleasant con- ditions. © Nell, with the enerey that r determination to nave a real home, has taken her “medi- cine” bravely, and her pretty as spick and Span as the ins cup. She keeps them so hei and Nell are utter strange has learned to husband strength, it economically, aud she drives ; instead of letting it drive her. t sit sooner think of a Ward in St. Eliza- beth’s than rooms in a boarding house, now, and so would any other man of sense. Marriage is something of a lottery at best, but the couple who must enter the married state as inmates of a boarding house are daring fate and inviting disaster to many of the highest hopes and noblest aspirations of the human heart. If thos who would marry find it impossible .to set up a home of their own the wise and sensi- ble thing to do is to wait till the time comes when they can do it. While men do not m: because they want house- keepers, they do have a hazy idea that a home would be a nice thing to posse: the central figure of home is a w! seck the wife, too early sometimes judgment is formed or they have any ¢ ception of the resportsibilities of married | ife, and this leads them to select for a companion young immature girls, who are pretty to look upon, sweet of position, perhaps, but unlettered in homely accom- plishments, a grievous fault of the age, but who appear well in society, and whose ducation is all golfing, wheeling, tennis nad other ath- letic sports, though the correct swing to give a broom to produce the best results or the force necessary to reduce a tough beefsteak to an eatable condition by ap- plying a “pounder” is Greek and Hebrew to them. After marriage,what? For a couple mated in that manner, a smail house, even a tiny bird nest of a flat, ts out of the question. Boarding is the only alternative. The wife is ignorant of housekeeping, and it is much “cheaper” to board. There are boarding houses and boarding houses, some of them good, many of them utterly bad, and the bad ones are not all in the cheaper category, by any means. The young, in- experienced woman finds as her associ! in the new life a lot of worldiy-wise wiv who fill her head with nonsense about a husband's duties and the proper spirit that a wire should display. They talk gossip and scandal—they have nothing else to do—and they sow seeds of doubt in her trusting heart and give her volumes of advice about managing a husbard. The couple dare not show the natural affection they feel for each other, for fear of being laugh- 1 at for a pair of “spoons,” and the little quarrels that would be forgotten in hour in a pleasant home, or perhaps never have occurred, are discussed and magni- fied by the womar of the boarding house. to whom the young wife unconsciously un- bosoms herself, and thus the first rifts come in the perfect harmony of married life. Selling Happiness for Soctety. All this time the new wife is learning ab- solutely nothing about the management of a home, and they are saving nothing, really are further away from their first ideals than when they married. Many, very many, of the “incompatibility” di- vorce suits and the pleas of ‘‘non-support” have grown out of the seed sown in the boarding house life of young married people who were selling happiness for al- jeged society. It is true that the newly wed do not always find happiness in hcuse- keeping. In Nellie’s case, for instance, it was not the boarding house life that had caused her unhappiness, but her lack of knowledge of housewifely du and her unadaptibility. The remedy for this can only be applied by the sensible young wo- man herself. The very best man living not put up with a slouchy, slov=nly wife who shirks her responstbii and he is right not to do so if he dovs his part as a producer and gives ner enough imoney to run his home. Married life is a game of give and take, and there is no way of mak- ing a home happy where only one of the firm is interested fn it. Every woman who contemplates mar- riage shoul! make herself thoronghly ac- quatiated with a housekeeper's duties. It may be that she will never have to lift her hand to perform any of those duites, but i¢ she knows all about them herself, she can tell the instant the cook tries to impose upcn_ her, her or the maid neglects A wife should know hew tu work. this | ‘If they | in | 5 m of a lady in re- | that could be desired in | IMPERIAL. HAIR RECENERATOR Oe | Ne mat rw contition of your | HAM streaky A. GRAD tt con | Imperial Hair Regenerator. It is clean, color Dark ‘Rrown Medium 7-Ash Blond: Price, $1.50 and $2.00, Imperial Chemical Fite N.Y. In W: by MARLROROUGH Nw i husband's salary as w t hay * of the worman whos takes h t napkins for iron hold Where fringed towels ave used for disn cloths; clothes whipped t> rags in the vagrant winds: tea, coffee and spices ar left open los= taeir steength: coal t | wasted, ase unsif’ dough Teft th on the molding board: of meat i to decay, when savory s might have been made of ve < fu the would a made dish sala in the wash water; tinware ruste careless dr carpets spoiled negligent sweeping; draperies ruir handsom china : » thousands of sly ittle chipped ways i H \° such as Nellie complained of cay | £202 endiessty, unless the housewite ts ‘keenly alive to them, 1 knows how to j apply the remedies herself. These thing | can't be learned in a | and j the ‘fact of the n 1 to such small matter i by | the inmates of boarding caravansaries. { | time for the would-be bride to learn them is before marriage, home, where she | will have y ortunity “to test h accomplisi ments without disastrous re- idea of m. life should » and you x be sure that who appear to scorn this ide fashionable caraval to the comforts of a cozy home, have not the right ideas | of the responsibilities they have shouldered {#t the altar, and that lawyers and divorce courts are lurking in the horizon. Not j every woman is 1s ¢e ol, in | ar sing the si tion, r many jmen are like Fred, and jump at conchi- {slons which may lead to much more un- . A straight application of busi- i sto of early | r would of vast 1 and you may in prov- ing them boarding houses wi be unruly factors and quite unr lution of the pi cessary to a prop 1 oblem, SENORA SARA, - oo WAS TAKING Vo CHANCES. The Woman Was Willing, bat Jim | Wan Sas; | From the Detrvit Free Press, + Dark had just settled over the Ozark } whea the writer rede vp to a shanty and dismounting, rapped on the deor. A woman her appearanc sh | asked what was wanted. | can get lodgings for | the night, ma’am?” “Who be you?” A traveler on his way: io Jonesville.” AN alone Ride up a lectle clusser and lemme see | whet sort of a: lookin’ criier "yo" | Might be better and might be wuss. Ar | 4 warried man?” That settles i I kin take ye in.” “Is your husband’ away?” Stranger, i don’t think "ma widder with thre+ dren, sir. It's five miles to the next and it's a dark night and goin’ to irty soon, it a woman has got to iook out fur her- ma’am, T hope you are not afraid | of me" I protested. | “Not the least mite, stranger, nor of any other human critter on legs! ‘This ar’ the situashun. Jim Conover has bin sparkin’ me iur three months. Thts is one of his |nights fur comin’. He Pop and he may not, but if he finds a stranger in the | Rouse he may marry the Widder Jon I'm a-doia’ my best to git him, and I don’t want no accident to happea.” “Couldn't you stow me away In the gar- | ret? “Hain’t got no garret, sir.” dnly two rooms in the house?” rhat’s ail. Even if ye was asleep ye might git to snorin’ and Jim would be skeered off. You kin cee tho fix, stranger?” “Yes, ard I will ride on. ‘I shouldn't come between you and your “That's good of you, sir. hospitality, and yit I wan husband." Se “I do. Give me a light for my ill go on, and ff | meet Jtm Tl “Jest say that yo" stopped at the Widder Jenner's to ask th’ way, and that yo’ won- der why forty different men hain’t crazy to marry her. ‘That's it—yo" know yer galt, and now scoot before Jim shows up!” soe His Strange Resemblance. rom Tid-Bits, A certain farmer, who is by no means noted for his resemblance to Apollo, has a son of seven who possesses more wit than pedigree. One day a stranger came to the farm, and, seeing the lad, asked: ‘Sonny, where's your father?” In the pig pen,” was the reply. “In the pig pen? Thanks!” And, as the man moved in the direction he boy shouted You'll know him, ‘cause he's got I want to show to git another pipe and 1 One Favor Asked. From the New York Weekly. Poor author—“And is this all I am to have from the sale of my book?” Wealthy publisher—“That is the regular percentage, sir. What moreiéio you want?” “Um—well, I'd like the loan of your turn- out and goachman for an hour or 80.” “Hunph! Where do you want to be taken?” “To the poor house.”