Evening Star Newspaper, March 6, 1897, Page 19

——— FASHIONS IN CAIRO - Stylish Costumes Displayed in Orien- tal Sunshine. POPULAR SUN PLEATINGS Where Frills and Furbelows May Be Enjoyed. PLEASING BICYCLE COSTUMES . —~ z Bachelor Snel ning Star. CAIRO, F H bruary 17, 1807. NATIVES" ARE out in their summer clothes. The snits of smallish chii- dren are quite often yffew - colored and skin-fitting. These thought to unite merits of conve- nie and economy More beautiful weather could not be imagined. The sun always shines, there is always a little breeze astir and a drive or a bicycle spin to the Ghizeh gardens or to the pyramids of Heliopolis is always charming. In the evening there may be a garden party with a snake charmer or a conjurer to give the necessary touch of “lo to the en- tertainment. At a rec jon of this sort hundreds of lanterns of fan- shapes fur the illumination ne of the fete was a rose garden 1 by lebbe olives, feathery vos end palms The dusky Arab for whose tricks th vious Hight was favyor- able did none of the wonderful things at- tributed to eas fakirs, but his rabbits and chicKens, his little wooden ‘‘debb man” and the rest of his “business mad¢ h zht hand a e h to people already well ente Sun P A yo ng English girl who had drawn her garden chair under a pink lantern was easiest to please, a state of mind not un- connected probably with a new gown made with ‘sun pleatin that promise to be so plenty this spring. Sun pleatings are thing more than fine ordion pleat- they are very pretty under a pink when laid in cobwebby white veil- in about the figure cf a pretty girl. The white skirt emposed looked narrow, gimost s hough it was really very bodice sam foil. The gt im 1 wov n of rows of Bad triangular « Yellow, the dra Bnd the collar of above. Her hat of the dress was a blouse veiling laid in the same folds, h interstices for the running ritbon. The sleeves aps of white silk edged with i belt was of yellow silk silk with a flare of la was one of the safest of ing models, a small, almost turban- aped straw, with a bunch of Jonquils and narcissus in and a white bird be- ly spring- and illustrating some of the same jes, Was worn by an American wo- ho had just returned from a trip up Her skirt iclicate-hued silk, was xathe the hips at ading of bon. It was laid in knife pleatings to the hem, with four other circles of ri ruching to hold pleats in position. waist was a4 blonse of white silk een velvet zouave and a broad f ot k into which was thrust a bunch A large green straw hat, also a el. was worn low in front aad on w si ne m one side, turned up oa the other, Its trim- inings were lace and roses. When the cobra amd the crocodile had eir last glide and crawled about the cir . and the musfc w striking up », there appeared in the background the prettiest frock of the evening. It was a gray silk, made with a plain + blouse that Opened under a wide m the left side. Up and down the opening and heading the yesques in gold lace and em- upper part of the blouse ariy, and the-tuck- Toses { the small capote that crown- Frills and Farbelows. ‘Tailor dresses are not common in this he world, where there is no damp- interfere with t e nd furbelows, be a good ing worn by a lady who was flowers of a native woman crouched adside in blue cotton g¢ vlack yashmak of jor of the cloth I was a light fawn tint with a sd ros Phe full skirt was em- fistal above the hem braid The ty showed through cloth waiscoat thre ud ng bodice scare « of white gold thread and ng about as bodice, upon which each nse of buttoning down brown chine silk figured with I rose came outside of the waistcoat and i back in a flat collar and revers with facings. The belt was of brown hat of brown straw, trimmed and leaves , xo of Je Costumes. here are few better places than Catro in ¥ to stuly dress for the “bicyclett as it is necessary to say on this side of S$ not obtain, but wht flann or = suit with ier morg startling. They gh. to w the ads are A er model to copy is a Russian girl, who holds tt vcd from Cairo to the pyr wears a divided skirt of light 4 blouse of the same ning back in a sailor collar scarlet silk to show a deep whe serge She has a star collar of whi is a cross between a tur- tilor, it is of brown straw and tr tf with roses srand stand at the Khedivial races is a fine show place for such summ frocks as this one: Skirt of dark blue chine “I with pink. In front comes a white net with half a dozen ruttes la hung across it The silk bh i x bole of falling lace handker- eh with handker fs making « ts above the sleeves. The big white bat covered with flowers is shaded by a huge white lace parasol Social Events. ions of Lady Cron wife of sh minister, are the social events of most importance, and beautiful « K dresses are always displayed. A low, Bquare-cut bodice of rose pink chiffon w one of the best I have seen. A lace fichu was drape rs and across side with en leave down u The skirt was of pink it of shaded mauve ribbons. ves were of lace-edged chif- rich dress was of white satin, square cu d with an inserted front of gold embroidery sewn with turquolses, emeralds an@ topaz. I have called ont. but it was really the skeleton the corsage. framing the shoulders, ming down in edd points over the lit tle chiffon puffs that pretended to be sleeves, and forming the body of the waist, except for the high satin corselet, parting im front to the waist jine. For a young girl was a dress of white chiffon, with a thick garland of roses starting om the left shoulder, crossing the back to the right shoulder and then com- Ing down over the front to the waist. This dress was low cut and was sleeveless, ex- cept for half handkerchiefs of lace falling from the wreaths of roses. The prettiest evening wraps I have seen have been long THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, MARCH 6, 1897-24 PAGES. degre» for his father was a fiddler a in turn before him, so that it is not alto- gether strange that he should be endow with the same temperament. So fine is his serse of harmony and touch that he has to hear an air whistled, sung or hummed only once in order to correctly produce it on a stringed instrument. He plays purely by ear, and, as he himself frankly confesses, does not know the first rudiment in music or one printed note from another.” A born player, he was not satisfied with the tunes of the violin, banjo, or mandolin, and set his wits at work to make something that would suit him, and he succeeded in @ ry ap- In fact, it is hereditary with him, i his father preduction of his own, which he vi propriately calis the “mellow chord. Buil- somewhat on the lines of the ban- svoring of the guitar, the musical result is wonderful. Strung with violin and two wire guitar strings. the tones are as mellow and rich as anything The jo. yet with a inventor has entered on the eighth decade of his life, and when, with his mellow cherd on his knee, he strikes into an old dance tune of the forties it is almost impossible for his hearers to in their seats, for the way the music wells forth is a matter to be wondered at. The mellow chord is just. twenty-eight ches over all and twelve inches wide at head. When played the mellow chord 41 in an upright position on the left with the head pressed against the As on a banjo, the fingering is done the left hand, although there are no frets, the inventor holding that breaking as thes the string board, inkarmonious so} imaginabie. frets, do the level expanse of the notes and cause The hole is about three inches in diameter, with an elongat- ed alde extending toward the keyboard. Over this hole the bridge is placed, and the six strings passing over it are attached to the tailpiece. The bridge is five and one- alf inches long, and is made on the arch iple, although the top line is perfectly It must to bridge the bh middle to support middle without snapping. Under e bridge are two small to the main cross-pi turning over. piers of cessarily be long, 30 as and under-arched fn the the six strings in the ch end jeces of wood to keep it these are P ich give an to the instrum: The string beard is of rosewood with an ebony nut The neck ts made of sngar maple, the band oY maple, the top of the head is made of and the back is quartered red birch the stock used in the mellow quartered. The In the head supports or dst glied frora two smull added ring nit nine in fac chord metal affairs ment are tl help tak playing, th port on the neck all ot nt keys are pat of the t posts, which ig strain. In © pad sup- r “rs travel miles to reach ar the mellow chord i the de- are far guitar or mous in produ banjo, it the mandolin. [t has a which readily blends with the ¥ a manner that none of ot instruments no Mave heard but ramed seems to do. the chord have owner refuses yw buy sider an played a the it, offer. are struck in p. rich tone when the end of the hole the » inventor is proud 0 matter what time wait on him they always ready to nord out of the case and ts visitors wish thing of a forth nthe bridge The 4 an hare ing board ton find the old g take his meliow asf aaaet and he <ays that shade appeared simile of the o: fore mortal 7 y as long The ins ist, strumen: a held a piritual- made the in- un ‘oo him and now has up 4. Of course, the was able to get of ‘It y hasty one, but from scam? a reality. — it the mellow LAND TE! @RAPH AND CABLE RATE It Costs to © nicate With Mossa- medes or Bassidore. Times-Horald. ‘Telegraph rates vary sreatly in this coun- try owing to the immense distances. In many of the smaller countries of tie old world a untform rate is made for any point within the manifestly unfair graph companies if the send a message from From the Chieag: ven conntry, but it would be the American tele- were compelled to New York to San rate that they from New York to thtcago to Evanston. * minimum rate for a day words in this country is 2 % to Francisco for same charge for a message Jersey City or fron As a rule, t te message 6 cents. wnany points in Hlinois, In- diana, an, Penusylvania, Wisconsin, lowa a ates in the Mississippi valley may 7 ted from Chicago for this “rate point in Illinois may ached for so) r Philad w York, phia and Baltimore have a 40-cent rate ‘The highest rates from- Chicago are those for points iu southern Florida—s5 cents It costs only vents to telegraph .o any point in California or Oregon, and the rate tor New Orleans is 30 ce its. Few persons who have not experim with telegraph tolls appreciate the expense ef cable communication. Cable rates are much per word, instead of per message en words, and sures are very much higher. Messages to Englanc France end Germany St cents p word from ‘hi- cago. Belgium cents, Holland and Italy, 38 tria, W cents; Greece, 44 cents: Egypt, 62 cents; Switz erland, 36 ce ts: Sweden, 45 cents; Turkey, #5 cents and ents: Russia, 4 cents. The Cuban war has greatly increased the volume of telegraph siness in the West Indies. The lowest rate is 40 cents per word for messages in Havana. Other Cuban points are higher, and no town in the West Indies outside of <‘uba can be reached for less than $1.05 per word Messages to Porto Rico cost $1.95 per word. Central American rates range from [é cents (Guatemala) to 7% cents (Costa Rica and Nicaragua). South American rates take a big jump upward. Brazilian mes- sages cost from $1.35 to $1.¥ British Guiana points cost $2.17. Communication with pensive. Queensland ber word; Australia is ex- reaches the highest figure, $262 per word, while South and West Australia rates are $147. Messages to China cost $2.02 per word, and the same figures apply fo Corea. $227 per word; Java, $1 India, $1.29; Madagascar, and, $1.58, Philippine 3141 frie Japanese rates are Formosa, $2. $1.70; Zea! Islands, $2.51; Siam, New $2. n rates are lowest for points along the Mediterranean and are highest along the west coast. Algeria can be reached for 3M cents per wore the minimum rate for the dark continent. East African rates are $L.3t and $1.64, while South African points rarge between $1.54 and $1.70. West Afri- can. points rule, range above 82, wh 5 to send a word to Mo: medes from Chicago—more than to reach ny other telegraph station in the world direct. However, a message to BassMore or Lingah costs the Chicago sender $1.19 per word to Jask, Persia, and $11.76 extra for special dispatch beat line from that point. a ———— Hia Joke Saved Him. From the Bu A man was up before a judge the other ‘lay for stealing coal. The railroad deective said he caught the fellow in a coal car, but the man said that he was only sleeping there because his wife had locked him out and he kad no money to go to a hotel. “Pretty hard bed, wasn’t it?” asked the judge. Ob, coal. And the judge was so struck with the joke that he let him x ees A De! From the Boston Traveller. ‘Teacher—“James, can you tell me what is meant by a cubic yard?” James—‘I don’t know exactly, but I sup- pose {t's a yard that the Cuban children play in.” ——__-e-_____. A Watched House. From the Philadelphia Press, Wife—“Why are you putting that horrid revolver under your head? You don’t ex- pect burglars, do you?” Hubby—“You seem to forget, dear, that we had a ton of coal put in today, sir,” he a no, vered, “it was soft fichus of chiffon or mousseline, trimmed with lace ruffles and arranged not to cross in front, but to be caught under the sash and fall over the skirt draperies. ELLEN OSBORN, > A NEW MUSICAL INSTRUMENT. The Inventor Calls It a Mellow Chord and Says a Ghost Gave Him the Ide: From the Providence Journal. In Rumford dives an old gentleman who peaveaioa ths musical instinet toa marked | AN INSTITUTION MAINTAINED BY FAITH that hem in this end-of-the-century Para- dise from the wicked world, even Boston, just outside. I have seen “through a glass darkly" a quaintly simple inn, and scatter- {i ]ed dwelling houses near, unfashionable as ike to Testun | Whittier’s poetry, the mere structures, REST FOR THE WEARY Miss Sarah Farmer and Her School of Philosophy. Story of the Establishment as Told to Pauline Pry. PLANS FOR THE FUTURE Written for The Evening Star. ~ Iam going to tell you of a dream I have had, a dream that has “come true.” If, as I proceed with my story, any part of it se2ms improbable—altogether too good to be true in the experience of mere human keings—you must remember that it is a dream, still a dream, tn spite of the fact that the persons who figure in it are real flesh and blood, the places actually existing ard the events a matter of history. The dream came to me a few days ago in the’ person of a woman—the most beautiful woma: I have ever seen, a joy to the eye, an inspiration to the mind, and a denediction upon any soul that looks into her face. She Is superb in figure, radiant with health, vital in every line of her form and glowing with life in the wonderful coloring of her skin and the clearness of her eyes. But like a veil over the abundance of physical life she manifests, there !s an atmosphere about her which I believe the grossest materialist among you would admit to be spiritual—a subtile charm that tinctures with religion the admiration she compels. Gushing, am 1? Well, thank heaven, I am not like some women, incapable of gushing because the occasion for so doing happens to other woman. Then, her clothes—ah! in my life F hav lovely, as eternally be an- For the first time seen a woman's dress as fit, and just as littl bother to the wearer as the pristine vir- tue that constituted Eye's sole wardrobe hefere the fall. Ever since poor Eve was driven to patch her Paradise attire with a fig leaf women hive worn clothes to con- ceal beauty or to expose it—to mortify tie loveliness of their flesh with choker, stays and swaddling skirts, or degrade the spirit of loveliness, naked. To express beauty—clothe define a woman's charm as words detine an idea—that’s a charm of dress, isn’t it? And that,very properly,is precisely the dress of my dream-woman. Her fine clad in a soft gray gown that curves of her body in unt throat to hem; in front, folds of white 1. that finish the neck cross and are closed on the bosom with a silver pin of quaint esign; surmounting her dark hair, which parts Madonna-wi: she wears a clos parading in a dress half- that figure is follows the roken lines from » over her fine brow, fitting gray bonnet, sort a woman wears in mourning, and draped over this bonnet is a gray veil which falls like a mourning veil both sides ot her face to the shoulders, not shrouding her in gloom, but perfecting the harmony of her whole garb, which somehow shape her to the eye in th w the spirit and colors her lasting peace. “Ver r clothes do tailorize and demoral- ize us,” wrote Carlyle. Verily, too, my dream-woman has shown that clothes may vivity and apotheosize us. Founded a School of Philosophy. And who Is my dream-woman? must tell you now. She is Miss Farmer, the foundress of the Green f Philosophy at Eliot, Me. ince Margaret Fuller has this coun- try produced a woman of individuality, in- terest and power equal to Sarah Farmer, and not since humanity’s dream of a bet- ter life sought realization in the Brooke Farm community has there been any move- ment in this country that appeals to men who are liberal in thought, earnest in pur- pose and strong in hop. ee h the light of ey ily, our That 1 ‘ah Acre as does the Green- School of Philosophy. Essentially a day dream and yet a fact, the way Hawthorne characterized romantic reality of Brooke Farm, and the words aptly detine the paradox that exists at Green Acre. For two or three years past, at rare inter- vals, a figure has flitted across my horizon, or an incomplete message through some unfamillar medium has come to me, con- veying elusive intelligence of Paradise re- gained in a corner of Maine about an hour and @ half from Boston. I have had tantal- izing, vague visions of a wonderful green spot on the banks of a broad river, across the waters of which the sun sets aslant every evening and rises again every morn- ing trom the fragrant deeps of pine forest: scmehow reverent in their architecture and of an odd, other-worldly aspect. ‘Then banking high and white against the dark green background of the pines I have seen a great tent rising, to) country, an emblem of nd, a white flag inscribed with the word ‘Pea and within the tent I have seen assembled Chris- tians, Jews, Hindoos; Lazarus and Dives; Madam Midas and the weird cantatrice who has sung thi flag of no “Song of the Shirt”—‘stitch, stitch, stitch" —until her breath is well-nigh spent; scholars from the east and the west, and the farmer with moist brow just come from ploughing in the field of the outside, world A Strange Mixture. Among all these strangely united, ill- assorted people, I have heard the voice of truth proceeding from the mouths of wide- ly different men, as though one only spoke in all, and I have heard sounds of music rising that was one with the utterance of the speakers, and with the whispering of the pines, and with the murmuring of the waters of the river. Then, when the great tent was empty, I have seen here, there, everywhere—stretched on the ground, stroll- ing over the green grass, in and out among the houses and the small tent-homes that at one point cn the river's bank— en, most unreal of all the visions that have mocked my longing soul, I have seen men and women at rest. That above everything else Impossible is Green Acre— an actual, earthly abode of rest. And it does not cost you a cent! ‘That is not all. z It does not cost anybcdy a cent! Kenvember, I told you at the start this is a dream—a dream that has come tru but still a dream. If you doubt my repro- duction of it, you may ask the truth of Carroll D. Wright, of Rev. Frank Sewall, of Judge E. C. Robinson, of Dr. Arthur MeDonaki, of Edward Everett Hale, and seores of others you know to be reliable, I might name, who have lectured and lived at Green Acre When I asked Miss Farmer to tell me about her school she said she would be happy to do s0, “because, while everybody cannot come to Green Acre, on the Pis- cataqua, every one may, by knowing how, prepare a Green Acre for himself at home. Continuing, Miss Farmer saf@: ‘I don’t know of any better wey to broadly state the aim and accomplishment of Green Acre than to tell you that it seems to be the beginnirg of an answer to a prayer Rus- kin once made. He preyed that the time would come wher men’s hearts would be so filled with love and their minds so filled with truth that in every community there would be set aside a ‘God’s-acre’ for the living invariably as we row find a 'God's-acre’ for the dead. That ts what Green Acre aims to be—a beautiful spot, consecrated to life, not death; to peace and joy, not pain and sorrow. The idea came to me one day a number of years ago, as I sat a midsummer afterncon in a crowded, hot lecture hall in Boston listening to che words of a speaker who was giving me wonderful balm for my heart and strength for my mind and soul. “I had been brought by sorrow and suffer- ing to the depths of despair and to the last measure of physical strength. I had but- feted with fortune and kicked against the pricks until it seemed as if the battle of life was about finished for me and I was to drop into the grave vanquished, Then, when I had given up every sort of hope, an inspired friend taught me that the battle of. life is to be won not by fighting, but by ylelding; and the purpose of life is to be found not by tearing Gown anything, but by building with everything that comes under ones hand. With the bit of fresh courage this thought brought me, I began life over again, in a spirit of non-resistance, yielding absolutely to the ‘destiny that shapes our ends fousn hew them as we may.e I had made sime progress along this line, .when I’was ‘listening to the lec- ture I have spoken of,’and as I sat there that afternoon, aston So many others who, like myself, were ‘hungry for the words of the speaker and ¥et Were suffering so in the body while our minds and hearts were fed, I thought, oh what a glorious thing Out of the Depths of Despair. it would be for poor, hot, tired, discouraged, struggling humanity to’ have some spot on earth where our bodies might be refreshed and our souls revived at the same time- some cool, green spot, where one could rest in midsummer and hear words like those we are receiving under such discomfort to- day. In this connection.I thovght instantly of Green Acre, a quaint inn near my own home at Eliot, Maine, which had acquired an air of singular repose from having been a favorite retreat of Whittier and his friends. To convert this place and its beautiful surroundings into a ‘God’s acre’ tor the Ilving became instantly almost a passion with me, but the dream did not then seem in any way possible for me to realize, except by means of money, and I looked to my father to suppiy me this. “My father was an inventor, Moses Gar- rish Farmer. He had our house at Bliot lighted by electricity and he had an elec- tric car in operation in his laboratory when Edison was a little boy in pinafores. He and his family with him had suffered everything through his devotion to his ideas, and at last his inventions had been brought where he was to realize a fortune from them. I thus had every reason to ex- pect it would be simple enough to carry out my dream when it came to me, but the same week my father died, his for- tune unrealized, and there was no promise in Ife for me that my dream was ever to be fulfilled. I went that year with Mrs. Ole Bull to Norway and spent a year there with her, apart from the world. Dur- ing this time I was unconsciously learn- ing how to live independent of the world and how to do independent of the world’s means of doing. I returned to this coun- try the year of the world’s fair, and one day as I stood in the midst of the exhibit of my father’s inventions there, looking at a portrait of him mounting guard over the unfruitful sum of his life's great un- dertaking, I thought again yearningly of the dream I had had, and of how happy he would have been could he have lived to help me realize it. Standing thus and dreaming, the words ‘My grace shall be suffi- cient unto you; power is perfected through weakness,’ came into my mind with such distinctness and force as to seem like a spoken message, and at the same time there came into my heart the determina- tion to shape my dream in earthly stuff— to do it; simply that, to do it. Much Talk, but No Money. “When I came to consider how, I had the ague expectation that if I interested friends with wealth in it, they would pro- vide the necessary money, and so I began talking to my friends, but somehow, I talk- ed anything and everything 1 wanted but money. The consequence was the spring of ‘94 found me with a current of interest in my enterprise moving so strong as to carry me on its wave, but no money provided o- promised to assist me. I had no money of my own, but I had faith in the right direc- tion of my impulse, and I believed so im- plicitly that I went to work in faith; start ed the Green Acre school on faith, and it has been succeeding on faith ever ‘since. I have never lacked for money, yet I ask money of no one; everything at Green Acre —the best thought of the world in science, philosophy, literature, religion, music and art—is to be had free as air by any one who wants it, and it séems 20 me, after a three- years’ test, I am warranted in believing it is literally true that ff we seck first the kingdom of heaven, all things necessary will be added to us. “I am sure I have found the philosophers": stone, and it is on this, as a corner stone, that Green Acre has been built.” ‘ Like every paradise Green Acre neces- is barred against certain elements. 3 and iconoclasts may not enter there. ‘Throughout the swmmer eminent scholars lecture on a universal range of topics, but only such men and wemen are. permitted to speak there as hava sufficient breadth of thought to perceive that all honest effort, whatever its dirention; whatever its form, is obedient to the same law; and is a rantiestation of one; sume spirit. Thus all minds work in harmony. and the! gods of the Hindoo, Jew aa@Ctiristian, of all sects, of the rich and of.the poor, are served in a jubilee of peace. 1 have named some of the well-known men who tecture at Green Acre. Among a large number of others are Swami Viraghandl, J. D. Cola of Bombay, Rabbi Fleischer, Rabbi Schindler, Wm. R- Alger, the transcendentalist; Arthur W. Dow of Pratt Institute, Prof. John Fiske, Prof. Jos. Le Conte, Prof. E. A. Cope of the University of Pennsylvania, EB. S. the naturalist: Dr. Lewis G. Janes, ident of the Brooklyn Ethical Associa- : Prof. Lester F. Ward of the Smith- sonian, Frank 1D. Sanborn of the old Con- cord School of Philosophy, Charles Malloy, upon whom Emerson's mantle has fallen: Ole Bull, Mrs. Ellen A, Richardson, iss Helen Campbell, Edwin Elwell, the sculptor; Miss Frances Alberta Dougherty, the Catholic writer; Miss Sadie America, secretary of the National Association of Jewish Women. © of the Talkers. Last summer Edward Elwell gave talks on art, his classes assembling in the pine groves, and last summer, also, a school of music, of which Miss Farmer had long been dreaming, was realized—a school that studies music according to the principle of concentration, and which incidental to its work opens and closes all the regular lec- tures with music. Another dream Miss Farmer has had from the beginning of her undertaking was also realized last summer. It was the establishment at ireen Acre of the Monsolvat school cf comparative religions, with Dr. Janes at the head. The aim of this is to inform would-be missionaries of the truth con- tained in all religions, that whoever may go to carry the benefits of Christian civil- ization to any unfortunate people, may krow where their gods stand in the di- me economy, and instead of doing vio- lence to their faith and destroying their altars, build them up higher, to enshrine the God of gods. This school has con- tinued in session during the winter at the home of Mrs. Ole Bull at Cambridge. Recently the representative Mberal think- ers of America met in a congress at In- dianapolis—Dr. Thomas, Heber Newton, Jenkin Lloyd Jones, Paul Carus, ete.—and made liberal provision to promote the aim of the Green Acre school, either by estab- lishing a s-milar school in the west, or by joining forces with Miss Farmer at Green Acre. Their course was left to Miss Far- mer to determine, and she decided that they should join ‘her at Green Acre the coming summer, and the year following project a school in the west. When Miss Farmer finished telling me the story of how her dream has come true, I was filled with wonder touched 1 fear with envy, not so much because of what she has accomplished, as that a wo- man should have the courage for the un- dertaking. 1 wish I could break ground for the planting of a, “Green Acre” near Washington—wish, it ,gelfishly, I contess, that I might earn. thy cause for self-con- gratulation that. Miss; Farmer has, whic! Hawthorne, in retrospection regarding his quitting the conyentignal walks of life to cast his lot with the earnest day-dreamers at Brook Farm, puts,jn words thus: “EF count it the grqatest glory I have gained that once; 1 fad faith and force enough to form, gengrous hopes of the world’s destiny—ygs; a to do what in me lay for their accomplighment. 2 2 ‘se PAULINE PRY. a Does Your Dinner Add to Your Weight From the Boston Evetring Record. In Willlamstown resfde two young men rns ESS of a scientific typi. af mind. They have been discussing jwhether a man weighs more after eating tham before, and have decided that eatfhg dds nothing to the weight, while driiiking,makes itself known in avoirdupois, Monday they weighed themselves just before going to dinner. Mr. Porter weighed 191 pounds and Mr. Whelden 165. They also welghed what they ate for dinner, and the experiment showed that the smaller man was the bet- ter feeder, for, according fo the scales, he got away with three and a half pounds of eatables, while his companton’s capacity was only two pounds. The men weighed themsetves again directly after dinner, and both declare that.their weight was not in- creased at.all, | o@e- Fin de Siecle Finance. From the Philadelphia Press. Kytem—“How does my bank account stand this morning? : Bookkeeper—“‘There's a balance of thir- teen dollars and forty-seven cents.” Kytem—“Se much as that! Well, draw me a check for two hundred dollers.” ZO HOUSEHOLD HINTS Some mothers have been acting very un- wisely the past week, and it is a question whether the seed sown will not reap more lares than wheat. Jt is certainly unwise for young girls of twelve to fifteen to be turned loose to seek their own pleasure during a time when the city is crowded with strangers. These girls have invafed the Capitol, swarmed through the corri- dors, made acquaintances in the rotunda and flirted with designing men everywhere, when they should really have been at home or safe under the mother wing. After all, a mother who is weak enough to permit her daughter to do such things is not a very good companion for her. If mothers oniy knew the woe and heartache their lack of firmness brings in after vears, they would certainly be more careful of th growing girls. It is so easy to smirch the lily, and impossible to return it to its natal fairness when once its leaves cate blackened. The season has arrived when appetites are cranky, and it is hard for the house- keeper to cater to the varied desires. If possible have each day some of the fresh green things to be had in market, even though they do come high. The family that loves new onions can always be happy at this season of the year, and nothing is healthier than bread and butter and fresh onions. An old-fashioned remedy for slug- gish blood, which makes one drowsy and lazy, and is better known as “spring fever,” is sassafras tea. Our grandmothers would no more think of going through a spring without drinking copious quantities of it than anything. Steep it, and drink with cream and plenty of sugar. It 1s pleasant to the taste and a splendid tonic. “Nervous diseases result from overwork and under exercisé,” said a physician re- cently. “Preventive measures may be summed up in two words,” he continued— ‘physical development.” Worry annually kills more people than work. One should strive, however, to avoid all things that tend to disturb the nerves. Throw away the pen that scratches, and a pencil that has a hard spot in it. Discard a~needle that squeaks, and a basin that leaks. Use sharp tools, wear soft garmenis that do not rustle. Oil the hinges of the rheu- matic door, and fasten the creaking blind. These may seem trifies, but such trifles ir- ritate the nerves as much as a piece of woolen does a sore, Charles Lamb once id that a carpenter’s hammer in a warm summer noon would fret him to more than midsummer madne: So many women lament their small vo- cabulary and wish that they were better conyersationalists. There is an € and rapid way to obtain a larger vocrbulary and good pronunciation, ard that will nat- urally lead to better conversational pow Buy a Thesaurus and a common hoo! dictionary, and each day take up a word and study it and its synonyms. Or spend two or three days on the one word, and in less than a year you will have a vocabulary larger than any member of Congress. It should always be remember- er: ed, however, that the ability co use big words fluently does not make one a fine conversationalist by any means. It is the ability to express in the fewest and short- est words possible the thoughts in your mind; the aptness with which yon can paint on the canvas of your fricnd’s mind the pictures that you yourself see is the power that the conversationalist wields. and it is a power held by far too f« Another charm that is absolutels en- tial is a sympathetic voice. Something that but few women have. This is a fault that must be corrected in childhood, the adult throat never changes enough to admit of voice culture after long years of incorrect speaking. Cultivate reposeful habits, just on the threshold of society. When you sit down, sit still, Learn to smile, but do not laugh aloud. If you must talking avoid the rocking chairs change the position of the feet. self comfortably and easily, tain that position young iady rock when Do not nd then r One nervous woman of the writer's acquaintance, otherw pieasant and companionable iady, has a habit of rubbing or scratching h: = just above othe knee,a most laughable and at the same time annoying feature of unconscious nervousness. One day she heard « small mission girl, whom she was befriending. ask her companion if “the loidy the black satun had de ited like us ’ns.” She was furious, but she <till kept up the ob- jectionable habit. Don't drum wit the fingers, and above all things, avoid facil contortion, as the habit becomes very stron and renders cne very disagreeable after a time. An unusually florid face shows something is wrong with the dig the circulation. Avoid greasy f and pastry. Whatever you do, avoid “fried” things. Eat sala lettuce, water cress and plenty of fruit. Let plenty cf air into your sleeping room and take plenty of exercise. Following these suggestions will a long way towarl making even a homely woman wholesume looking, and that is more than mere facial beauts When crackers seem a little stale, lay them in a bread pan and put in a moder- ate oven for a few minutes. that estion and ds, pork To save your rice, oatmeal or anything of that kind from burning to the tottem of the vessel, use asbestos mats. They cost very litle and will soon save them- selves in protecting food from burning when forgotten and left too long on the hot eto: Patent leather will be improved when dull by rubbing with a soft flannel dipped in sweet oil. When a child a lump of sugar has the hicconghs give it aturated with vinegar. The juice of a lemon squeezed into the water in which you would boil rice will whiten and improve the flavor of the same. A wise housekeeper says that if you want to use your nutmegs to the last crumb, begin grating them at the stem end. The way to test nutmegs is to stick a pin in them. If oll comes to the surface at once the nutmeg is good, if not, reject the fruit. Raneld butter, if you are so anfortunate as to have such stuff in the house, can be sweetened by boiling it in a quantity of water, well Salted. Let cool and skim off. Some ‘aad a few thick slices of raw pota- toes to the water. The very cheapest and best remedy is to buy only good butter, and so much of it as you can use tip easily before it becomes rancid. Seg WHAT CHILDREN OUGHT TO READ. Charles Dudley Warner's Views on Juvenile Literature. Charles Dudley Warner in a recent ad- dress before the Public Education Associ- ation said: When I went to a district school as a boy I got more bad air than good in the chool room, and the instruction was of the same sort. It is as bad to put weak thought into the raind of a child as it is to shut him up with bad air. The idea of beginning the young mind with some- thizg worth while is growing among teach- ers. There are always persons ready to give us what we want, so as soon as lit- ersture for the young was wanted our shelves were covered with books about ‘Little Johnny and the ‘Pig,’ and “Did the Pig Have a Curly Wig? and ‘Did Johnny Love the Pig*” Finally we have discovered that we need something else, and at the same time we made the great discovery that the teacher himself must know some- thing himself, a revelation to many peo- ple. The teachers are beginning to under- stand that they must themselves be in the stream of literature in order to Yeach it Properly. Rather than all the dates in history I would have a child learn to love one sweet poem, even » minor poem, that made him want another. Teachers are beginning to understand that it is as well to open a door that goes somewhere, in- stead of into a hole in the ground. ‘The door shculd lead into the world of ideas, whieh is the world of history also. Litera- ture is not an accomplishment, something to round off an education, but it is the vital substance of the child's mind. The synpathy with real literature should be put into the child’s mind yery early, for it is marvelous how apt the child is to take the wrong thing. How easy it is when the child is from six to ten to turn {ts mind to what really develops and calis out the natural capacity. A child at that age is interested in any real story, and any real story is good literature. I never knew a child in an intelligent family who was not absorbed in the story of the Odyssey, and who did not take all the genuine things with eagerness. Why, the Little Pig is nowhere, and Jimmy, compared with Ulysses, is nowhere in the interest of an ordinary child. ‘“The ron-literary teaching is bad not only for the child, but for tite teacher. We should all be idiotic if we had to read or- dinary text books for a year® The te if he is to grow, must feed on real things and the child knows at once the perfor tory thirgs. He then thinks of outdoors as life, and why shoul! not life be indoors? Let John Burroughs talk and life is in doors. He does not write for children. 1 wish nobody had ever writtes a word for children. The silly people who try to write down to children hal better try to write down to themselves. Of all the worst tn fluences of modern life one of the most diluted is what is called ehildren’s litera ture. I would give a child no literature I did rot like myself. that c Arent should read Kani, or John Stuart Mill, or even Turgenieff or George Eliot; but there is plenty that is full of life, that will strengthen and invigorate the mind, tha 4 child can understand, and that will call nim, a8 he goes along, into th walks of literature. A word about drea subject. While I am a great cate of kindergartens, ther> ix too much babyishness there. The is quick to take impressions, and mix colors dreadfwily the SECRET OF THE BOOT TRADE. Ola Har an Finds Its Cheap Footwear. From Answers, “Old harness thrown away? Not lke! sald a dealer in old leather. “Every of it is worth money; in fact, I can’ enough of it. Old harness collecting is as good as gold digging, if a man can only fcrage cut enough horse owners to keep him well supplied. When you just think how many thousands of horses ther Way 1 serap get are working in harness in London alone, you can imagine how great the supply ix “Nearly all the cast-off harness is con- sumerd in making cheap boots. People will have cheap boots, and the boot manufactur- ers find that for making a Viceable arti- cle at a low figure there's hing to beat old harness. Then again, whip-thongs and bootlaces are also made from old hor trappings. “In the first place, the greater part of it is bought up t big marine store dealers, who collect it m the harness makers, and from army sales of condemne also from railway fr companies’ sal average buyivg price being twopenc: pourd. These dealers have it taken to th warehouses, where it ts sorted into «it- ferent qualities and prices ranging from one penny to. sixpe a pound. | It is then sold to smaller dealers of the same kind, who in turn distribute it to the boot manufacturers and others. Now, if it wasn’t for the enormous quantity of old harness used by boot manu- facturers, a workingman would not be able to purchase a pair of new boots for a tew shillings. No bootmaker could afford to sell a pair of men’s boots made entirely leather for of of new yet hundreds price every we as long as hoi will continue to be. “Old saddles are mostly used for making the inner sole of a boot, as they are g. erally compos of the best leather, a’ besides being more durable, will not era or perish. ‘The most profitable saddle cut-up is a ‘riding saddle.” You see, the contain a tremendous quantity of goo sound leather; and then they are trequent- thr ad, harness, at are worked towns, a in to ly thrown aside more because they are dingy than anything else. Undoubtedly hunting saddie makes the finest boots: but military riding saddles are usually made of the very best leather. “The ‘reins’ used for driving a hor: form an important item in the cons by tion of cheap boots, being split chinery and laid under the sole. “blinkers* n the and “traces’ are never very much worn, especially when they come from rich people, Some sets of harness, such as 1s used by omnibus companies, are very often useless when thrown aside, being cracked and perished through hard wear and long exposure to the weather. “The demand for old sets of militacy harness is much greater than the supply. sit is very little worn, and, being well aned and always kept in good condi- tion, is much more pliable and works up Ary goods made from the cast-ott ef railway companies are also serviceable, the large size and good ther making them very useful for working up into other goods. In fact, this leather, when used in bootmak- ing, looks so weil when trimmed and ironed that it ts impossible for any one except those in the trade to detect it. “Small shoemakers use up a great deal of the cheap harness. In the winter time they use most of it for football boots. It 1s cut into strips and naifed across the sole of the bcot to prevent the wearer from slipping. You'd hardly think anybody would have this done, considering that foot ball boots are so cheap; but, then, some men prefer to wear out their old boots in this way, as they are generally more comfortable than new ones “There is really no cast-off article where the material is so little wasted as old harness, every particle of it being used in some shape or form. The buckles and ornaments are cut off and sold by second- hand dealers, the collars are cut up and used for repairing leather bags, the hay stuffing being utilized for restuffing old chairs ‘and coaches “Indeed, if the supply of disused harness were twice as great as it is ft would not tully satisfy the demands of the boot and other trade: 2 a BULLETS FOR SAVAGE: prett quality of the les Dum Dam Projectiles and Their Tear- ing Effect on Any Body They Hit. A correspondent of the London Ficld tells about experiments made with a new .303 caliber bullet, with reference to the regula- tion Lee-Letford bullet of the British army. He says: “It is and has been for some time an open secret that the army (British) is wholly without confidence in the regulation Lee- Metford bullet as a means of stopping a charge of cavalry or a rush of the sort of savage against whom in Asia and Africa the British soldier is constantly being called on to act. Excellent against a target, tt is quite useless against foes. A Pathan, dur- ing the Chitral campaign, had six of these buliets through various parts of his body, and was still fighting as hard as ever when a bullet in the neck came through, knocked some of his teeth out, and stopped him. He was discharged from the hospital in a few days. “The Dum Dum bullet is as accurate as the Lee-Metford regulation projectile, and has as good range power. Experiments were made on piles of burned and sun- burned bricks, earth in bags and boxes, wet and dry sand, cans full of water, coal, inch planks tied together, boiler plate, skinned sheep and sheep with wool on. In every instance save two the regulation bullet passed through and was picked up in a con- dition almost fit to be used again, but th: Dum Dum bullet spread out and had best penetration, but there was a greater shock to the material through which it did go, tearing holes in the sheep big enough to put a fist in. “Then, four and five planks were pene- trated by the Dum Dum bullet, twelve and thirteen by the other. I believe that a liv- ing body offers greater resistance than a dead one. If so, a clothed living body may offer sufficient resistance to prevent its going through. In that case, the whole of the enormous energy would be expanded in the enemy's hody; the bullet would set up (mushroom) more, and—God help him! Judgihg by the results on sheep carcasses, the hole of exit in a man, if the bullet went through, would be so terribly large that the use of this ammunition would be held to be too inhuman in its effects for use on men, or, at any rate, against a civilized enemy. The Geneva convention would not bar it, for that forbids the use of an ex> plosive in a small-arm projectile, but the effect of the Dum Dum bullet is explosive. I do not see why such a bullet as the Dum Dum should not be used against such un- civilized enemies as the ‘Fuzzy’ and the Ghizi, who do not ‘play the game,” who will not decently fall when hit, but who unrea- sonably come on after with the advantage of five to one, and even when mortally wounded make things nasty for our men. “I shot a wild boar with a Dum Dum at eighty yards. It had its right flank diag. onally to me, and the bullet struck just under the backbone, broke a rib, went through a lung, and destroyed all the ves- sels in the throat, lodging in the jaw. The bullet has a small, soft point, where the jacket of nickel does not cover it. This al- lows the bullet to expand.” —_—_+e-+—____ Liver and Bacon and Shakespeare. From the Philadelphia Press, . “Do you believe that Bacon had anything to do with Hamlet?” ; “No. I think Hamlet's trouble was bis liver.” ————_+ee____— A Useful Hint, From the Elmira Star. Pull her tail if you want to make a Maltese cross. = SSS ey PUBLICATI( INS. ‘acto FREE one acaregating $i00. A Gencine Bona Flan Otter. Wo give sothing tt caah for priera. No trash. Here is our on: Whoean form t fet namber of words trom You'can take twenty or if you do you wil rrvive a Teer more time: ‘than tt Tangaace rxeope English, ye oe retin . wea, proper BOanA altownd. Anyuing ent tem tagitl Tate word will be allowed. Work it oat in thi. manuer STRUCTION: In Sir, Selon, fun, Sap Jenne acka Monty will pay iW min gold tothe pare To matee the inrgect lst ot wend f word INSTRUCTION, @30 00 Sach of the next three darye-t tits, ex! three, $1500 to-ech of the mast tires. giv bo Leone Of the next nine; and $200 toeach of the ext Corky largest lists—aixty-one prince in all Yor the sisty one large lit, Donte you think, you sul be ome of ieee Satyonct You will enjoy the making af your nt Why not try forthe fia priet The above rewarde-are given Tree aad without. consideration for the purpace oF Stirarting attention to onr handsime ema magazine, thirty two to thirty aia pages nach page containing four long commana, Goely--ilnetrated, att all orugtuel matter, Tong and short thy the best authors priv 1 80 peor itis neremary for yon,to enter cle contest to eed vents (money-orien, ‘miver or stamps) for & three: Monte tral euberipiion wich Your iia of wor and person sen ting’ ‘conis and a list of t Sh eatra pment hy epee A _NEW Appears an the word Use any dictionar ad verbs, prefixes, euffixas, adjoc: Use ne Paral, WO toeach of the Maciaren’ United States than of recent yeaa We gives. complete ueabriaged ehiGion, andy acc fnely ‘printed {n'Titndsome type Satisfaction gusrantesd ot money refunded. Laste should bo sont a fot tater than April The names nd Sucre: ‘contestants will be privted in. ay inmue, pabiimeet Ape Se Our pubticatinn han ben da a years. We ‘you to any mercantile MaKe your lst bow Adcirean H. PLUMMER, Publisher, 20-23 tag. New York city ” 8 Temple Court Build. Don’t Miss The Parisian. St interesting a wis today. Sto JEAN RICHEPIN, CATULLE MEND! Mask: owe 2 CARNDGTIE ~ Vowk = “The Governor’ ye SUCTETY TWe aie ron AMD PINGRE ELLA CLEVELAND. Detroit, Mi mit at , will ONE OF ST MM nm American Bark 125 Years O14 Sct Doing Duty in English Wa The bark True Love phia in 1764, has been + to be yet afloat im th hulk, engaged in active of 133 years T he through a casualty reverie Mare time nge as foll r Love barge. was in h schooner Gravesend of London, off Gravesend, and had port quarter damagel to such an extent that it was found recessary to tow her in Rochester, and she arrived at that place in charge of the True Love has not only ers and their successors, lived every craft that tome i for many y this fact, coupled with ¢ e hist craft is still eng pursuits, places Philadephia top notch as a shipbuilding cent In . when this famous old craft was launched on the banks of although her length was inches, she was then t e that the Delaware Contrast this with th: eccmme fc ated. of the huge Hamburg Company's steamship Pennsylvania, latest addition to commer whose len is SST fee . While Lhe new White Star building is 704 feet lomg, and one will amazed with the magnitude of t ship of commerce. The True Love. being completed, saited away fro} delphia early in 1765, and no record is had her return to this until August when at the ag WY years ne into port from fvigtut, Greenland, ith a cargo of kryolite, in command of Capt. Thomas Nathaniel, consigned to It Crowley. She was discharged here and surveyed by the American Lloyds in O: tober, INT3. and satled away, never to re- turn again. Upon her arrival shortly after- ward in London she was sold and turned into a coal hulk, in which capacity she still serves. The Love are: 26 feet nsions of this famous Length, 95 feet & inches ® inches; depth of hold, She measured 26 tons register, a all old craft, carried very little cargo. The discovery that there was still a Philadelphia-built. vessel has caused much comme of the mari True cr ot 1. like more afloat han a the fe rs ton me ange, and some ship ping men are of the opinion that this old craft should, if possible, be purchased 4 ar Records show that the True Love was for a time owned in Hull sland by G. Dahl previous “to her purchase by Joh S. Ward of London, and during that ume was engaged in the Baltic trade THE ROAD. Known by o Go Upon the Highways, an w From the, Uties Observer. The talk of the mavy thousends is often turned toward the law of the read, for there is no one who ps not make » of roads either to ride, drive, ot For the protection of the traveling lic it is necessary that certain rules ulatirg travel upon the public highways be generally observed. Our statutes do not require a traveler to keep upon any particular part of (he road, nor to turn out in any certain di n but it is universal custom in this country for vehicles and animals under the charge of man to take the right si of the road when meeting others, if it is reasonably practical to do se. A teanj should, in gen- ral, keep the right side, whether meeting anciher cr not. Yet, when two are going in the same direction, and en pass the other, he should. pass on side, as the first team has the right way and cannot be expected to deviate from his course upon the right side. One passing another must use great care to avold a collision, as nothing but neces- sity will warrant him in doing this, for both, going in the same direction, belong upon the right side, and by any deviation from his proper side one assumes all ris of the experiment. The rule must be very strictly observed at night, or when, b reason of storm or fog, it might be diffi- cult to distinguish others approaching. A traveler on foot or on horseback must give way to a vehicle, and a lightly loaded team must give way to a heavily loaded one, but a team with a heavy load ought, in certain cases, to stand still so as to al- low a lighter vehicle to pass. ‘The driver of a horse must use ordinary care in its management, amd is liable for all damage cavsed by careless driving, and if he leaves his team he must use ordinary care in hitching it, for if a horse left unhitched starts and’ occasions damage the respon- sibility rests. upon him who neglected to hitch it. But if a team is hitched with ordinary care and is frightened by some unusual disturbance, as by a runaway team running: against it, and the team so hitched breaks away and in turn runs and causes damage, no liability rests upon him who carefully hitched his horse. The movement of sleighs and sleds upon the snow being comparatively noiscless, it is customary to attach bells to them or to the horses, and the want of bells would render a person liable for dam- ages. Bicycles are regarded vehicles, and are subject to the same rules—they mst give way to heavier vehicles, anl foot passengers must in tura give way to them. Massachusetts laws require bells to be attached to all bicycles. As no one is obliged -te build fences next the high- way, the use cf which is common to all people who choose to travel upon it, so drovers of cattle and other animals are not respcnsible for damage by their travetin herds, if reasonable care be exercised in their management. ns Exotism. From the’ Indianapolis Jourval, “I don’t see why you should insist that Thomas is so egotistical. Have you never noticed that instead of avowing that any- thing is. so he is always modest enough to say ‘I think so?” “That is nothing but egotism. He thinks that his saying he thinks so makes the statement that much more positive.”