Evening Star Newspaper, December 31, 1922, Page 41

I 2 ]hox;plelled skirts, which are a re- | vival of interest. . Pleats are wide, not narrow. Knife pleating is kept | for soft “skirts that carry:sweaters |and spert blouses. - Circular skirts ‘.MVQ a wide box pleat at one side; | others have 'a“flat pleat or-a gath- ,ered panel gxactly in front, which | draws attentlon to ifself as its source | by beginning in & huge bow of print- ed crepe to match-the girdle. - ‘Thi :flat* Egyptian panel ‘placed in ]roh_ied_ panel seen in frocks of an- ‘clene ‘Alexandrian days.is the proper | way to place drapery on a new skirt. Side -drapery- continues, but a sharp | flare.o¢ fulinesa in the middle front 1s undoubtedly .the new touch,; Latus H lenl .panels; decorated, are dropped -ovar short, .plain skirts, -- .. #'#‘ - 1 RE, is ‘a determined ¢ ort to 1 plage conspicuous ribbon rosettes !or long loops and ends in.front of S !one hip. Black welvet frocks appear ,at Junch tables .with sashes of aix 'and’ ¢ight inch blue velvet ribbon tied in front of the left hip. Immense colgred, rosettes of ribbon are attach- jed to the gide of a skirt after the ,fA;Mou of decorating the head of a | Brittany horse. Evening gowns carry Iv.hcle rosettes of ribhon in gold and 1 silver motal tissue. | Foulard 1s revived. It is combined | with serge. It is rarely left to itself. i The dressmakers assemble a blouse | of foulard and & little cape and skirt of serge; truumd. It is really nothing more thzn a shawl. Jackets are short, ! some of them reaching only to the upper part of hips. Cut as short as this, they show a wide expanse of overblouse made of foulard, of print- ed crepe, of plain crepe beaded, em- broidered, or ribboned. Black taffeta is sparingly used, but the fact that it is used at all is sig- niMcant. One new frock has a full circular skirt edged with white brald and a short jacket which ends in a circular peplum that ripples around the body and shortens the walstline. ‘I Its edge is finished with brald, and there Is & white chiffon bib instead of a collar, in three layers, fastened with a dlack bow in front. Surely this tdea has novelty. The walstline gTowas shorter in many models. When dressmakers are fearful to launch it witheut excuse or apology, they em- broider a girdle in a curious pattern and bring it as far above the waist- line as below it. This trick is taken as evidence that the hip girdle may | soon be a finished fashion. Sleeves are long and - tight, -and {often have circular flounces between {elbow and wrist, but the newest idea is to put a wide patch of beaded or embroidered fabric over the elbow, tying it to the arm with ribbon ora beaded band. The ribbon is finished with a small bow above the point of elbow. It looks as though a woman were trying to hide a hole {n her sleeve, but it is a fantastic trick of fmportance. HERE IS THE NEW MID-SEASON GOWN THAT WILL BE FEATURED IN AMERICA. IT IS OF BLACK VELVET WITH FULL GODET SECTION AT ONE SIDE, COVERED WITH SMALL FLOUNCES, ABOVE WHICH A | LARGE RIBBON ROSETTE IS PLACED. 2 BY ANNE RITTENHO ANDWICHED in bet mas day and the New Year is be told in paragraphs today, broad- ened and strengthened later when | women are rushing into the shops to get the full benefit of after-Christ- veen Christ- | tront is somewhat.popular, but the | the cape has a collar of ! |} The peasant sleeve is not finished. smn, WASHINGTON i C DECEMBER 317 EZS—PART 4 |Jewelry is the keynote of today. demurely dressed woman looks com- monplace. Curlously enough, she | usually belongs to the powerful set. {1t is the average woman of limited | income who is -eager to rush into | color and decoration. It s to be a ribbon year. One im- | portant clothes designer made his |new collection out of it, gowns, | wraps amd hats. lavolds it. Maybe hundreds of miles of it will be used on this continent | this season. Wide skirts, now com- | monly accepted for soclal occasjons, serve as a good foundation for ruf- | fles and rosettes of ribbon. The re- vival of Louis XVI bodices running to a point in front, seamed and dart- ‘ed to fit the figure, glves a chance to No dressmaker| e Launched as Harbmgers of Spring Weather |1y rhinestone buttons, after the eight- eenth-century fashion. Any woman who possesses well mounted rhinestone buttons or buc- kles should get them out and polish them up. They are in their heyd: of glory, as smart on a taffeta bodice and a pair of slippers as In the elghteenth century. Women who are { canny about such things have picked up antique mother-of-pearl buttons. enameled in old French blue, set with cut steel, which can be turned into a brooch that attracts experts. Mother of pearl is on the top of the world. A new frock launched by an important house is of supple black cloth, fastened {n front, from neck to hem, with mother-of-pearl but- tons. " There are buckles of this shell. sleeve links of it and other links to hold the neck of a blouse together. It !is & comfortable fashion to split the front of frock or blouse, bind it with a color and link it with mother pearl. Not all of those shell fantasies are shaped like conventional buttons Many are like pearls. x ¥ * RAY and rose in soft tones make a new combination for midsea- son. One of the best new frocks has a Persian pattern in these two col- ors, the bodice draped from one shoul- der to opposite hip, where it is held by a sizable cockade of red and gray ribbon, with loops and ends. Yellow and black, also yellow and blue, are among the preferred color combina- tions in foulard, printed crepes and plain foundations, with flat oriental embroidery. As it is the fashion to ¢ombine serge with any of the an- clent eastern designs, dressmakers have a new stimulus to make combi- | nation frocks that will serve for win- ter under a coat, for spring under a | scarf, ‘There is a well defined tendency to {make the skirt fit the hips. The ef- fect is that of a yoke, the kind we once used as the beginning of a gath- ered skirt. It has been revived, be- cause the full skirt is commonly aec- cepted. (Oopyright, 1922.) Using Honey. In many households honey is an unknown quantity, and in a greater proportion honey, though used occa- sionally a8 a “second spread” for pancakes or fritters, is never used in combination with other ingredients There really are many deliclous dishes that can be made with honey as an important ingredient, and it is a pleasant relief to take one's sweet- ness in the form of honey rather than sugar. There are persons who are forbidden sugar by thelr doctor who are £till permitted to eat honey. A very good salad dressing can be made with a half cup of strained light honey. First beat four egg yolks Now heat the honey very hot in a double boller or in a dish set over boiling water. Pour the honey on a story of mew fashions that! women might prefer to read in more tranquil lwurs. «n eyery woman. not recov- ered from the festivities of last Mon- \ day and she is pulling together her mcattered wits for the important ac- Listlessness is mas sales, for many of us wait until| such propitious days to buy our win- ter wardrobes, and we should go armed with knowledge of what hap- pened while we were buying gifts; otherwlse we might put, our money . Blouses and frocks continue the low- ered armhole with a full sleeve gath- cred into it and to a tight wristband. At top of sleeve is embroidery done in -bands of red, black, blue and yel- low, not in bright tones, but faded | SLEEVELESS GREEN CREPE FROCK WITH MATCHING CAPE, WHICH MAKES IT SUITABLE FOR THE STREET. THIS CAPE IS A SQUARE OF {THE MATERIAL EDGED WITH CHINCHILLA. THE TURBAN IS OF GREEN VELVET IN A DARKER SHADE THAN THE FROCK. tivities of tomorrow. Yet those who into something we will’ not want make clothes insist that we loo listen, The designérs and women to the sight of cloi crowded hour by launching assortment of and old ones touched up to loo when the snow hegihs to melt. Here, therefore, is the condensed story of midseason fashions as they are put_forward by those whose occu- | pation it is to create something new /and to incite interest in it: Circular skirts are emphasized for ,frocks and hats. street and afternoon frocks; also cnes such as Persians use In old car- | pets. In truth, carpet patterns are used by embroiderers to ornament The embrotdery pattern of the Russlans, which is like a water wave with a crossstitch be- tween, Is a simple and effective em- broidery for peasant sleeves. It is that bright colors are superseded by )cepted after much propaganda by the the eggs, beat well and let the mix- ture cook for & minute. Now add about a third of a cup of olive ofl. the juice of one lemon, a cupful of cream or top milk, which may be a little sour, and season with a third {of dressing for fruit salads. \ faint ones. ! . There is a new sleeve in Jackets. It is broad and flat at the armhole and gathered to a tight band below elbow, from which the fullness falis in go- dets. The embroidery Is placed on this fullness and held up by a stiff glove trade. & A NEW JA * x x x ASHMERE shawls, which wre sig- nificant examples of oriental pata | terning, are exhibiting signs of new | and virile strength. They are fash-{ foned into long coats, the pattern out i COLOR SCHEME. NUARY MODEL IS THIS STREELT SUIT IN SMOKE VEL- VET WITH CUFFS AND POCKETS OF GREEN AND RED SILK. TRIMMED | WITH BAND OF BEAVER. A GREEN VELVET TURBAN TOPS IT AND | |THE WEARER CARRIES A GREEN CARD CASE TO COMPLETE THE | Honey may be used effectively in many sorts of sandwiches. To make {a banana sandwich, much liked by | many persons, mix a few tablespoons |of honey and the same amount of | thick cream to d paste. Spread this gauntlet glove, which women have ac- e e oo o fon slioe o Sruilapll 2hen Tap-on easily done at home, but remember new. The tale of these th His Dear Cassandra d then stood dumb with amaze-|for every blade and blossom. Ben- more acquainted with this particular and get anywhere, but if you disagree lined by steel beads in various sec- tors. A rew model has a hip-length flaring Jacket with the black part of | Perrian and Arablan deslgns are in the forefront of fashion. They are a -/ the shawl used as a yoke for the part of the dissolution of old fash- (Continued) | eck and as a brassard for top of, lons and the formation of new ones. |sleeves. The black Is. effective | We are no longer to be demure. Black against the brick-red tones of thelis to be only a background or acces- palm leaves. { sory. Glitter and gorgeousness, color fleld than vou are. 1 spent eightiment. Five years of time had re-|ham’s hat was spirited away by & S eara t studsing pl eved his earlier wretchedness, 50 |proper British butler; Benham him- T “Fm not disputing that, dear. Ail{that occasionally he had thought of self was taken by ‘his host into & I'm saying is that it concerns n Picard without resentment, and of living room which stunned him. Just as much as it does you. I 2ot good business sense: 1 know I nave. Won't Tou please Izt me have ” voice in it, too.” Picard went over to her, and took her In his arms. 1y geas child,” he <aid, “there’s nobody on the face of this globe who can conviacs me by argument. I don’t want to hurt vou. (but if I'd followed half the udvice ou've given me, Fd be in the poor- / house. If I'd taken your advice about Schoenstein, 1 couldn't afford to go out and work a year for nothing, the way I can now. I don’t trust your Judgment of business affairs. I uldn’'t trust any woman's. sn’t a woman's province. I So If it seems to me the w to do, why, we'll Just have to pack up our things and move to California.” Her lips were trembling, but she turned aside to prevent Picard from seeing them. “Is is that your $iecision. then?” “No; I haven't made any decision. But I'm considering it.” “It doesn't make any difference that 1 think it's suicide for you to go 0 California?” “‘Suicide? " he repeated. “And awfully bad reasoning, Stuart? onsidering how you—Ileft the stage? At the unexpected stab to his pride, s pride became Invincible. “I didn't marry you for & reason, Bertha—I married you for a wife. And I'll give points on play-produc- tion to any man in the business. I'll bet I'd be ten thousand times better That ) } ‘hl | Picard’s wite without despondency, }but whenever he had imagiped their| jlife together /e .had taken subtle pains to make it rather feverishly | commonplace, in contrast with the rich quiet life which he himself could have so easily arranged for Bertha. He wasn't a vindictive man, but he was normal. “Good Lord!"” said Benham. “Oil, or pictures?" . “Both!" sald Plecard. “Where arei vou staying? What aré you doing? {Jump in and come on home to lunch. | Bertha'll ba crazy to have you, and | 1 want you to see’the kids. I'm living in Pasadena.” Benham climbed into the limousine. “T'm just killing time out here. What are you doing?’ “Directing,” sald Picard, “Fm with Filmart. Don't you ever go out in the evenings?" Benham, shaking his head, regarded Plecard with a certain intuitive re- spect. “You've done well, have you, Stuart? That's fine. I'm glad to hear it.. No, I don’t care very much for the movies, but I understand they make a lot of money.” He coughed delicate- 1y, “I always thought thak if you ever had a clever business manager— somebody like Bertha, for instance— you'd go a léng way, Stuart..® * ® I shouldn’t wonder if you've changed your mind by this time, have you? I mean about women's judgment?” < Plcard smiled, broadly. “Well, not’ exactly. But that's neither here 1or - because he did-1t all himself, without . -Hwhdt counts with Stuart.” And then Bertha came in, At lunch Benham lived in & curious murk of memory, and of regret; and his only satisfaction arose from the evidence that Bertha was happy. In- deed, it was evident that no two peo- ple could conceivably be happier than Picard and the girl who almost mat ried Benham, However, Benham re- Called her husband's attitude toward those very qaulities which Benham himself had considered superlative, and perhaps he had never hated any man for rascality as much as he now hated Picard for mere obstinacy. And this sensation grew and multiplied in direct proportion to his thoughts of his own empty house in Greenwich and his empty arms. At 3 o'clock Picard had to run over to Hollywood for a conference, and Benham, alone with his ideal, became tongue-tied. The past five years had telescoped into nothingness; his pain was a8 sharp as on the day it had first lodged with hin. “I'm glad Stuart’s been successful,” he sald at length. “That is, if he measures his success in money. Does he?” “Less than any one I know,” she said. “You probably have some idea of what a director is; Stuart’s ng more than $200,000 & year, but he never thinks of that. He really deesd't. He's ‘so proud to be impor- tant, and’ well known, and 80 happy sny backing or .influence. That's * % x ¥ ENHAM swallowed twice. “T don’t ‘think he could have done it alone, ‘could he?" Of & sudden; as & director than I would as an act-| with you man? Atrophy of the fntel- | or! You see, dear, I've got money }1ect?” enough now to afford to take a year: Picard put his hand on Benham' o learn this new job. It's a wonder- |sleeve. “T've had & good, laugh lots ot ful opening. You don't understand it. |times over what you used to say.to Thoss big picture companies are|me.- She's a wonderful woman—she!: {tine honesty overcame’ him, fnd he closed corporations. No matter how |the most wonderful woman fn. the|leaned out to her. “He doesn't give 00d & man s, he can't gt fn un>)universe—but When you talk about|FoU .credit cried Benham, with ess he's invited. It's a chance I'd|businessablility..® . * In a way, Em H:fllwu “He doesn’t never get again. ‘I'm sorry I havs to[glad of, it,-too. There Wouldn't be{&iY: disagres with you on- S0 " ‘many of [ very much pleasurs.. in. being . marriad ugh. I n’ these things, Bertha, but__—" to an efficlency: expert. 1 wanted.a Know.. XOU'Ve wy hj e broke off’ sharply, ‘for Bertha home.. And I've got the happlest home{-KneW, Xou. “would! Apa too stub- was Erying. in Christendom—you wait and see.”-~:| born to admit it, but I admit it!* He “S-gometimes,” she sald, “I' fhink| Benham gased at.the fylig land-pssak back, .apolagetic . for . his ve- Iml 're almost irrésponsible.” sc¢ape.~ He was- thinking of what: his chémence. . bhat-couldn’t ynu do for Plcard stiffenied with outraged dig-|OWn ambitions opce”had been, &n@|a'man,” he said, almost inaudibly. nity. “It's too bad You think so,”.he |What-it-would have meant to him=>{" Fora time she.sat looking:at the told her, deliberately, “because 1've|What it Wwould mean ‘to, hlm "l;: -fiGot, ;d -them pr:-en:ll;‘lh?:lln::: 1 Ci - wi ap at nham; and sm! “You ‘:{:-""l U dackdstto g0, 1o Callier T know Stuart pretty well, don't we? sentment-surged up ‘Within him, and| e ® 9. Ws “know what he thinks he déspised the man beside him for|about .women * ¢ ¢ He's-lIike so his blind incomprehension. ]| mény, many husbands™ Her -smile “But I couldn’t have got along with-| seemed to float through Benham’s out her,” sald Picard, absently, “I owe [\very ‘soul, and he closed his fingers her a lot. I owe her eyerything. But| pightin his paims. “He wanta to feel not in the way you mean.” 80 strong and ‘wise and Powerful; and The car had stopped at Pluni'. "he wants his wife to feel t!n! he's so lnflnltd! much wiser than” she s . l’vn Tet him. I've jet him 3 think’ T'm ignocen! agd \mmpmh were lawns and and fllogical ® ® ® Perhipa it was/| which, in s country dependent upon |hard, at first, but I loved him énough irrigation, meant huge exp-ndhun * s » You can't argue against Stuart, B e e * X ok % ENHAM was standing on the side- walk. before the Hotel Alexan- dria, in Los Angeles, and wondering what to. do.next with the few re- maining days of his vacation, when a great blue limousine pulled in to the curb, and a familiar face thrust out safd & familiar voiae, “you lese your hop.. Youu coing me agaln.” Benhdm started magnificent. and &N, mut it the: W sl A AL, I S B I in astonishment, . - with him in just the right way, at Just the right time ® ® ¢ and take the opposite side to what you really want him to do—"" Benham had gone limp in his ehair. “Bertha!” he gasped. “Don't you remember,” she went on, half In revery, “the story in Virgil about Cassandra? The prophetess? And it was fated that nobody should ever believe her? Well, he thinks I'm his dear Cassandra. He thinks my lutely wrong. Only if she'd done what I've done ® ® ¢ He thinks he's a self-made potentate in a great king- | dom, and all the time he's just my | happy and busy and successful—" wet his lips. “How could you ever do 1t?” he faltered. *“How could you ever endure 1t? A woman with your intellect and understanding? I al- ways sald you were wonderful ® ¢ * but you've done a miracle. And Stuart—" “If you only love somebody enough, you can do anything.” She gave him her hand, and Benham took it, and shivered. “It's our secret, ism't it? Yes, I was the one who made Stuart g0 in with Schoenstein—", “Schoenstein!” “Yes; I knew as soon as I saw him that he was born to be a conqueror. He was poor then; poorer than we were; but we made a little money to- gether ® ® © and then I kept Stuart off the stage when he wanted to go back to it and fail and break his heart, and then I brought-kim out here, where all his tremendous knowl- edge had an outlet—I found out how to disagree with him, and lead him anywhere. That's all ® ¢ * You'll keep our secret, won't you? 1f I'vel really got intellect agd understand- ing, was there any better way to use it? Was there?” Benham's attention was fixed' on she blushed and withdrew 'Alld ’ ¢ ¢ and I gave him to !0!." said Benham, thickly. She smiled at him in pity for hll suffering, and tried to be. kind, by reverting to conventions. “I mustn’t talk about Stuart and me any.more. I want to hear all about you.. Do you know you've hardly told us about yourself at all? I wish you would.” Benham, whose consciousness was filled with Pleard, and with Picard's house, and Plcard's babies, and with this sweet and statesmanlike girl who hpd taken the very worst of Picard's attributes, and capitalized it, and used it to make him rich and famous— Benbam saw once more 2 vision of his empty house in Greenwich, and he swallowed hard and looked every- where in the room except at Bertha “Qh, there’s nothing interesting in my life,” he safd bitterly. *“T'm only the president of an huunno. com- pany.” & (Copyright. All risbts reserved) best judgment {s always and abso-| little boy, and I'm keeping him so| Benham gazed and gazed at her,and | Foulards, printed crepes and varied |and extravagance, decoration and R. HENNESSY looked out at| the rain dripping down in Archey road and sighed, | “A-ha, ’tis a bad spell v weather we're havin', i { “Falth, it 1s,” sald Mr. Dooley, “or' else we mind it more thin we did. I {can't remimber wan day fr'm another. | | Whin I was young I niver thought iv rain or snow, cold or heat. But now | th’ heat stings an’ th’ cold wrenches | me bones; an’, if T go out in th' rain: with less on me thin a ton iv rubber, | {T'll pay dear £r it in achin’ J'ints, 50 | 11 win. 1 “That's what old age means; an' now another year has beer put on to'| what we had before, an’ we're expect- | ed to be gay. “‘Ring out th’ old,’ says a guy th* Brothers’ School. old, ring in th’ new, he says. out th' false, ring in th’ true’ he. “It's a pretty sintiment, Hinnissy; but how ar-re we goin' to do it? Nawthin'd please me betther thin to turn me back on th’ wicked an’ in- gloryous past, rayform me life, an' live at peace with th’ wurruld to th end iv me days. “But how th’ divvie can I do it? As th' fellow -says, ‘Can th' leopard change his spots;’ or can’t he? “You know, Dorsey, iv course, w cross-eyed May-o man that come to this counthry about wan day in ad- vance iv a warrant f'r sheep-stealin'? |fortable.) {Ye know what he done to me, tellin’| “An’ I wint to th’ dure, an’ whin people I was caught in me cellar mak- l Mike Duffy come by on number wan jin’ sour wash out iv pine shavins.|hundherd an’ five, ringin' th’ gong iv 1 Well, last night, says I to mesllf, {th* ca-ar, I hollered to him: ‘Ring out |thinkin' 1v Dorsey, I says: ‘T swear th’ old, ring in th'.new!’ that henceforth I'll keep me temper| ~ ‘Go back into ye'er stall,’ he says, lem me fellow-men. I'll not let'anger |‘an’ wring yerself -out! he says. or jealousy get th'- befter fv me)-1[‘Ye’er wet through,’ he eays. , eays. ‘TIl lave off.all me old feuds;| “Whip:I-woke up this mornin’, th® an' it I meet me inimy goin’ down |pothry had all disappeared, an’ I be- th* street I'll go up an’ shake him|gun to think ti’-las’ wan I took had be th’ hand, if I'm sure he hasn’t a|somethin’ wrong with it. Besldes, th" brick in th’ other hand.’ lumbago was grippin® me till I cud bardly put wan foot befure th® other. SRR “But I remimbered me promises to mesilf, an’ I wint out on th’ sthreet, $6()E- 1 wos mighty compliminthry |\ gine ¢5" wish tvry wan a Happy eays | diyvle, an’ th’ hour was midMight; but I give no heed to that, heln’ com- to mesilf. I set be th’ fire. “I'M SOMETHIN’ IV AN AMACHOOR SHOT WITH A HALF-BRICK MESILF.” { half the slices thin slices of bananas put flat bows of ribbon on sleeves. | Make into sandwiches and serve at An evening frock of mauve taffeta |once. has a skirt eight yards wide, opened | in front over a sliver lace petticoat (gorts of pudding honey whipped dropped over mauve chiffon; it Is|cream may be used. To make this gathered to a pointed bodice with flat | combine a cup of heavy whipping blue taffeta bows down tho front.|CLe3M With three-quarters of a cup 1 d: Others have & row of ornate and cost- \eies ard whip unel sag” OF Lo To use as a pudding sauce on many Mr.Dooley on New Year Resolutions | BY FINLEY PETER DUNNE. head; an’ whin- he passes my place, he walks in th* middle {v th® sthreet, an’ crosses himsilf. “I'll swear off on annything but Dorsey. He's a good man, an’ I de- spise him. Here's long life to him® (Copyright, 1822.) The Size of Pygmies. | THERE are certain popular errors concerning the race of under- sized men and women known as pyg mies. Usually travelers have meas ured the most diminutive specimens | and thus an exaggerated idea of their | smallness has been produced. The average stature of the pygmies that | have been measured is about four | feet eight inches, but the best au- ! thoritles in anthropology say that the real average limit of stature is | five feet. Some are taller than that. The pygmies have been found in eight or ten different places in cen- tral Africa, but wherever found they possess certain striking resemblances. The plant furnishing the covering for their huts is the same In the widely separated reglons visited by Stanley and others, and the shape of the hute, a rough hemisphere, s the same. All the pygmles are alike characterised by neglect of agriculture, by the use of polsoned arrows and by the ab- t he says. ‘Ye have a brick In ye'er ye a New Year's gift,’ says he. ‘Th’ same to you, an’ manny 1v thim,’ say: 1, fondlin® me own ammunition. ‘Tis even all around,’ says he. “qt is’ says I. ‘I was thinkin’ las’ night I'd give up me gredge againye,’ says he. ‘T had th’ same thought me- silf,’ says L . ‘But since I seen ye'er face,’ he says, ‘I've con-cluded that T'd be more comfortable hatin’ ye thin bavin’' ye £'r a frind,’ says he. ‘Ye're 2 man v taste’ says L. “An’ we backed away frm each other. He’'s a Tip, an’ can throw a stone like a rifleman; an’, Hinnissy, I'm somethin’ {v an amachoor shot with a half-bri- = mesilf. “Well, T've beca thinkin’ it over, an’ hand,” says L ‘I was thinkin' iv givin® | sence of any centralized tribal organ- ization. Testing of Coal. THE Frenoh investigators, who are among the most ingenious, have discovered that the X-ray furnishes a very ready means to detect stony im- i purities in coal. Now carbon is very transparent to-the Roentgen rays, while silicla is opaque to them. Consequently the silicates, which form slag when coa! is burned, can be seen like a skeleton jected upon a florescent screen. It is reported that this method is much in vogue in France. A Curious Language. when the shadow of the coal is pro-- dhbrinkin® hot wans, an’ ivry wan I| dhrunk made me more {v a pote. ‘Tis| th* way with th* stuff. Whin I'm in dhrink I have manny a fine thought; an’ it T wasn't tvo comfortable to go an’ look f'r th’ {nk bottle, I cud write pomes that'd make Shakespeare an’ Mike Scanlan think they were wu rkin’ on a dredge. ““Why," says I, ‘carry into t ' Rew year th’ hathreds iv th’ old? I says. “Let th' dead past bury its dead,’ say! L “Tur-rn ye'er eyes up to th’ blu sky, I says. (It was rainin’ like th’ New Year” an’ hopin’ in me hear-rt that th’ first wan I wished it to'd tell ‘me to go to th’ divvle, so I cud hit him n th' eve. * X % ¥ HADN'T gone half a block before I spied Dorsey acrost th’ sthreet. I picked up & half a brick an’ put it in_me pbcket, an’ Dorsey done th’ same.. “Thih we wint up to each other. ‘A Happy New Year,’ says L. ‘Th' same to you,’ says he, manny 1v thim,” T've argled it ou. that lifed not be|, py vana lan, " guage of northern worth livin' if we didn't keep our T California represents a distinct inimies. I can have all th* frinds I lngulstic stock and had formerly need. Anny man can that has LIQuor. | 4, 0o gjalects, one of which is now But & rale sthrong tnimy, specially a | (it TS SO 08 RO T 10 May-o inimy—wan that hates e .,..n one of which is employed by ha-ard; an’ that ye'd take th' €ot|pyen gpeaking to men, while the other oft ye'er back to do a bad tur-rn to— |y y4eq in all other cases. Practically. 1s & luxury that T ean't go without in | 7250 0 0 @ o SN S e and me ol’ days. verbs, . the adjectives, adverbs, nu- “Dorsey is th’ right sort. I can't|merals, interrogative pronouns and go by his house without bein’ in fear | conjunctions being formed from the he'll spill th' chimbly down on me | verbs