The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, April 10, 1898, Page 27

'/ THE SAN FRANCISCO CALL, SUNDAY, APRIL 10, 1898. “Ohe Story of } %y Jl-Fated Caster onnet” By By By Wrs. Irving Y. Secott. Wrs. 8. L. Hurphy.. ollic Blessing Cyster. Wfrs. . H Jewott. Nrs. Huntington. Jellie FHolbrook RBlinn. Sadie L. RBallou. . Dr. Boocher. Nlrs. Judge Cooper. rs. S FH. Buehler, Jlelujah!” sang the chofir £=7=30 be well bonneted on Easter jay is an adjunct as essen- t1al to religious harmony as it is a desire distinctly feminine. For, the day, and this the happy er flower of a bonnet is just in s s the season when her hat is ed to order on the congregation be obliged to wear an old becoming bennet on this day ays is a severe pe.ance. And these ughts are certainly disturbing to the tal attitude of prayer. t these sentiments are not wholly nopoly of youth, some of our itative women have given tes- in their reminiscent Easter bon- »ally never attached much impor- Easter bonnets until this 3 said Mrs. Nellie Blessing Eyster. I can scarcely tell why I should do now; but I must admit that I took < de ble pride in this pink and brown creation. Just to get a friend’s opinion one day last week I pulled the bandbox containing it from under the nd found the latest (ltter) ary nt of my household. The crown of bonnet was filled to the brim with my a litter of Madame Tiger’s kittens. This is the first Easter that I have had to purchase two bonnets for the one occasion, and perhaps it is the most important one; but it is not my earliest Easter bonnet trial. This oc- curred in Baltimore when I was a gicl, It my first visit to a city and I 1d it a place of wonders. It was day before Easter, and I was go- to see the Mermalid, the beautiful y with long golden hair and a fish’s So tedfous is this day, zht before some festival nt child that hath newrobes em. governess until e the indulgence of wear- net to the Zoo. Such were there and so ook at that I grew-im- wonderful mermaid. pet illusion of my stroyed. It made me ugly thing, and as childhood was ¢ cross to I turned w In the distance a girl with a bonnet on just like mine —but my, what shocking behavior! Even at ance I could detect he airs. While she dis- gusted, still she attracted me, and I found myself advancing toward her and 1 was surprised to see her walk to- ward me. as my Own r in a mirror. I tried to sooth m 1 vanity t ting even ) d the little ones with 0] 1 my bonnet was d from my head by a big mon- that, unperceived by me, had n the bars above me, and in g he doused it into a pan of n the cage. In less than onkey had some rem- Lace, ribbon and iled through the dust. converted her veil My govern a head-dres: 1 t da wear I was punished my old bonnet (o girlhood tt, AL minary E with the t the then pre- At sun-bonnet. To : of elegant ma- t becoming shade hafed particu- that they shut out in the church ex- a s t gine three 1 -d girls staring straight ahead—three hundred and fifty who had as 1 veethearts in the rear of th hurch; festive days as Easter t for upon such he boys' semi- nary supplied half of the congregation. “It was impossible to get even a glance at our sweethearts without be- Ing guilty of the rudeness of turning squarely around. That to me, as to the other girls, seemed the cruelest of all sacrifices to endure for the sake of the then fashionable Easter bonnet.” Mrs. J. Murphy relates an Baster bonnet experience that all early settlers will appreciate. “‘Shortly after our marriage,” Mrs. Murphy began, “my husband and I went to our new home, a settlement way down in Georgia. This home was a log cabin built in the edge of the woods and our neighborhood, though somewhat svattered, turned out en masse on Easter Sunday. Besides there was a new attraction—they wished to see the bride. Need I add that the kride herself was anxious to look well? My husband, too, took a great interest in my appearance, and this he mani- — EICO S 2 . 7 J.H-JEWETT GIRLHOOD — EASTERDREA kettles literally covered the floor. Every few minutes my husband would come in from his work in the barn to inquire if the bonnet were high and dry, for he wished me to be ‘in the fashion shin- ing,’ and the storm showed no signs of abating. I was well nigh worn out with my labor that day, but at night I was rewarded by a peep at the treasure Jjust before going to sleep. It smiled back at me from its little dry home and my heart was satisfied.” ““When beauty’s ensign yet was crim- son on her lips,” Mrs. Huntington, mother of H. E. Huntington, encoun- tered her first Easter bonnet trial. “In those days,” said Mrs. Hunting- ton, “the prevailing fashion was the old aberdeeno. This was but a flimsy affair. though exceedingly pretty, but poorly adapted to the whimsical East- ern summer climate. The frame was of wire and the covering only paper. “I was in New York State at this S much for a salary with a promise of donations. At the donations number- less articles too funny to speak about would be given, from barrels of flour down to lead pencils. “On this particular year, my sister and myself were given bonasts with the request that we should not wear them until Easter. T should have been glad never to have worn mina: but whatever was given to us must be worn with gratitude. My hair was what was called in those days red. The bonnet was red also. But the two reds were of a different shade, and clashed inharmoniously upon my oversensitive nerves. How to avoid wearing that bonnet at all was my study. T put it away to try on alone after oiling my hair to tone it down a shade or two. But the unpleasant fact still remained that it was the most unbecoming thing that I was ever called upon to wear. “Easter morning came all too soon “The greatest amount of discomfiture I ever felt over an Easter bonnet,” re- lated Mrs. Irving M. Scott, “‘was an ex- perience I had here in San Francisco. 1 was going to Easter service and felt, I suppose, the satisfaction and happi- ness that all women feel, until they look over the congregation and see some bonnet prettier than their own. My hair was very abundant, and my bon- net very light. There was quite a little breeze and my bonnet was lifted from my head without my knowing it. Presently I stumbled over what I thought a little black dog; and as I stepped aside, 1 recognized my bonnet as it went hopping and bobbing along the pavement in my advance. After a little pursuit the truant was rescued, and 1 gained my pew in time to sur- vey the new creations in head-dresses that are always heralded on Easter morning. the St. Paulus Lutheran Church. “I was living at the memorable time near Fort Wayne, Ind., and as I expected to be married later in the summer and come to California to reside, 1 con- cluded to economize in favor of my wedding trousseau. I sacrificed my pride by wearing my old Shaker bonnet to church. Only a woman will under- stand that it requires courage to make such a sacrifice. All the more unpleas- ant because the village wherein I lived was a small one, and my friends seemed to outdo themselves in hatsand gewgaws at this particular time; while I bonnet- ed in the Shaker, with its green apron back and green ribbons, felt glad that a green barege veil covered my burning. face, and sorry that I had not sacrificed something of my trousseau instead of so much comfort by wearing my old bonnet.” “The only regrets I ever felt over an “EASTER MORNING I MADE READY FOR CHURCH. WITH A JOYOUS HEART I WENT TO THE CLOTHES-PRESS FOR MY BONNET, AND THERE SNUGGLING IN THE SOFT LACES AND PLUMES 1 FOUND A NEW LITTER OF KITTENS. WAS | SURPRISED? WELL!!!” fested in the sudden interest he dis- played in the welfare of my Easter bonnet. As I said before the house was built of logs and in fair weather sunlight streamed through the spaces between the logs, while in stormy weather—thereby hangs a tale. “The day before Easter was heralded by a storm. The roof leaked, the water dashed in at the windows and streamed in between the'logs, and I spent the entire day in hunting for a dry spot for my Easter bonnet. No sooner would I be assured that the box con- taining it was secure from the deluge than I would be as speedily convinced of its danger. Pans, boiler, pots and time and foolishly dared to brave the drive to Easter service without an um- brella. The early morning opened as fair as a day in June, the day of all days for wearing my aberdeeno hat. But I had not reckoned on its close, nor the deluge of rain that was to ut- terly ruin my hat. “When I reached home I still wore the wire frame upon my L ad, but the was lying prettily fluted paper rim round my shoulders, a hopeless mass. “How well 1 remember my first F ter bonnet with its torments,” said Nellie Holbrook Blinn. “My father was the pastor of a church in a country town where the clergy had to take so and the bonnet was adjusted with hu- miliation upon my red head. I shall never .forget my suffering on that oc- casion. My little friends, seeing my discomfiture, teased me by pulling my strings and blowins the feathers until my patience was exhausted. “On my way home I had an alterca- tion with a girt who nrulled my bon- net off and threw it in the muddy street. I at once jumped on it and left it there as a broken monument to donation parties in old New England. “Thus the day that should have been the brightest of all the year was to me a day of horror, long to be remem- bered.” “Those that judge not too severely Have said they loved such follies dearly “Be that as it may, it is really a femi- nine pleasure to study the blooming pews on Easter. And I soon selected from this nodding mass a perfcct love of a bonnet—the one above all others that I should have liked for myself. “Now the funniest part of my story is that the next day one of the papers, in giving a description of the Easter bon- nets, put the very bonnet that I so much admired upon my own head.” “I feel again the mortification of the Easter of so long ago,” said Mrs. Buehler, -wife of Rev. J. M. Buehler of Easter bonnet,” declared Mrs. Colonel Kinne, “carry me back to the time when my little daughter was about 3 years of age. At this time I dressed the quaint little thing up like an old lady, and put on her head my new bonnet, with its pink roses in front and its fall of Chantilly lace behind, and allowed her to go upstairs to call upon her grandmother. “When she returned from the visit I carefully laid the bonnet on the bed and left the room to attend to some household duties. When I again en- tered the room I found a shred of lace here and a bit of rose there. The bon- net was utterly destroyed. “My little girl had dressed the dog up to see grandma, too, and the dog did the rest.” “The Easter Lat most vividly difficult to obtain that now presents itself,” said Sadie L. Ballou, “was a war-time affair. My husband. who was, one of the first volunteers, had been taken prisoner at Huntsville, Ala.. which reduced the small private’'s pa - to not even a unit. ‘With three mouths to feed by such means as I could command by my needle, no surplus was left for Easter hats. But wit and every woman's ne- cessity (the hat) triumphed. “I lived on the four corners of a farmers’ village in Northern Wisconsin and drew water and such other inex- pensive luxuries as the well and the hand of the deacon’s wife around the corner might contribute to necessity. “‘One day she resurrected from the loft of a mercantile storage a relic of a dead fashion, a coal scuttle bonnet, sometimes called a sky-scraper, and gave it to n.e. “That brim of brims so_sleekly good Not flapped like dull Wesl down, But looking (as all church hats should) Devoutly upward—toward the crown.” “It did not talke me lonz to change the shape. After ripping and splicing the braids I sewed and shaped it inw form, dyed it in logwood dve. stiffened it with gumarabic, and finally pressed it over a stone cream jar into the then fashionable shape. Sumach berries fur- nished me with the dye for my old rib- bons, and I plumed the hat with a couple of soft feathers from the tail of a hawk that my brother had killed. “To prove that the hat was a success T have only to add that I set myself up with a millinery establishment by tak- ing all the sky-scrapers he deacon's wife had and selling them after re- modeling into the -uLape like my own for the munificent sum of 50 cents.” . Dr. ‘Beecher, a cousin of the late Henry Ward Beecher, said: “My re- ligion is not dogmatic; therefore an Easter hat to me is not a necessity. For fifty-seven years I have worn the same style hat and dress. In fact, I am so unconventional in this regard that I have justly earn.d the sobriquet, The woman of one hat and one dress.” “Why? Because, when my best dress or hat gets a little bit shabby, I go to my tailor and order another dress made in the same fashion. It is just so with my hat. All I have to say is, ‘I should like to have one just the same as that.’ I have been called masculine, and never except once in seven years do my friends cease nagging at me, seven years being the period in which a fash- ion is said to repeat itself. Then I console myself with the thought that I have set the style for others to follow, and this is tlie only time in which I am free from the persecution of my friends regarding my mode of dress.” ““The greatest humilic ‘" 'n that T hava been called upon to endure,” sald Mrs, Judge Cooper, “was all on account or an Easter bonnet. At this particular dime I was in_Chicago—the celebrated Windy City. Whether or not Chicago deserves this appellation I can only say ihat the wind was the cause .f my mis- fortune. ““It has been a grievous fault with me since my girlhood to give my apparel but a little attention after I am once properly attired.. Upon this occasion, as upon all precedine ones, I was wool- gathering as usual while on my wav to Easter services. It never occurred to me that the wind could carry my hat away without mv k_owledge, but it did, and to this day fit has kept its secret well, for I have never found it. “I walked into churc™ proudly uncon- scious that my headgear had disap- peared, and was somewha’ annoyed at the manner in which a casual acquaint- ance stared at me. I resented her un- usual interest by holding my head a little higher. . “I was made conscious of my loss in a most embarrassing way. After serv- ice I walked up to the cLancel and was absorbed in my prayvers when one of the elders touched me gently on the shoulder and softly quoted from St Paul’s epistle to the Corinthians, ‘Is it comely that a woman pray unto God uncovered?’ “I raised my hand to my head and was humbled beyond expression. Had I been allowed to proceed with my pray- ers, contrary to the church law, I think ve been of little avail, for my mind was in anything but a spiritual state while smarting under the elder’s biblical rebuke ” ANNABEL LEE. HOW TO GET MOST CHARMING Efiects in Easter Hats. Catherine, St.” Catherine, Catherine, one St. . Catherine HIS is the burden of m 3 son And, forsooth, if St. Cath. erine can not give her a hat | with all the above requisites, the | milliners can supply the de-| nand. They have handsome ones, and big ones and expensive ones. Especial- ly the latter. 'Ask any man who has had to pay for an Easter hat and any doubts you may have as to a milliner's eficiency to make out a bill will be dis- sipated. Hats, hats, everywhere! Large and emall, flaring and drooping, beribboned and befeathered, straw, chiffon, jet, flowe and countless other things For where else excepting in rancisco does lovely woman sniff disdainfully at Dame Fashion, and fol- w the bent of her own sweet will? I :ak whereof I know. Did T not waste reams of paper and 4allons of ink telling the girls all about [ SRS e the marvelous Parisian pompadours. Feminine Paris looks as though it had got out of bed and forgotten to comb its hair. And In the light of these facts the dear things met me at the wharf with their hair parted and coiled the same old way. 1 confess I liked them all the better for it. There is a similarity between that round, flat knot of hair and pins “like mother used to make.” Every trace of “Heimweb” disappeared at the first glimpse of them. But why this digression on hair when hats are the subject of my discourse? Because on the arrangement of the hair depends the becomingness of the hat. In Paris the milliners display strik- ingly new patterns for hats. Presto! changes the style of dressing the hair to_suit the new headgear. Milliners and hairdressers work hand in hand. Every Parisienne, after a little seance with her hairdresser, can wear a “Shepherdess,” the latest thing in the way of hats and a creation that is a direct evolution from the “Jane Had- ings” of last year and can be traced still further back to the “Marie An- toinett Every Parisienne does pos- sess a “Shepherdess” and “entre nous” it becomes a trifle monotonous. Here, however, the milliners import the latest things, people try them on, find them unbecoming and with that independ- ence that makes them so adorable they will have none of them. They do not realize that it is not alone the con- tours of the face, but the arrangement of the hair that makes a hat becoming or otherwise. Secretly I am delighted that San Francisco hairdressers cannot live up to San Francisco milliners. If they did we might run riot in one direction in- stead of having such a charming va- riety of hats. % Daintiness is the chief characteristic of the new importations. Feathers have been entirely laid aside fo- the nonce, and soft and airy aigrettes and jetted quills are occupyin- their place. Flowers are more beautiful than ever before, and in exquisite coloring and perfection of outline vie with nature’s own blossoms. I have seen the *“Shepherdess” dis- played in several of the shop windows here. They are equally as fetching as those displayed in Paris, whence. no doubt, they hail. Bent down to shade the face, rolling high on the sides, and drooping again in back, they are at once picturesque and Jjaunty. It is hard to say just wherein they differ from the hats that Jane Hading made g0 popular in Paris last year. I think the main difference lies in the fact that HIS WIFE'S FIRST EASTER BILL the face is less pronounced. There is a certain chic about them that the | “Jane Hading” lacked. Even thuj French walking hats droop over the | face and are short in back. They are | trimmed in drapes, steel ornaments | and quills. The toques are made entirely of flowers on a straw or wire foundation. | Charming effects are obtained in those made of the soft crushed roses. the brim made of tiny rosebuds nest- ling among green leaves. 1 notice that the yellows and burnt oranges are holding high carnival here. Last year a birdseye view of “hatted” Paris would have shown one broad, brilliant streak of flaming orange. This year they have toned it down to a shade called castor. I* is a cross between R TRYING IT ON. fawn and-dove, with a splash of yellow, and is used mainly for the straws. It combines well with almost any shade, but is particularly adapted to tur- quoise blue and lemon. The violet shades have given way the laven- ders and lilacs. This is a characteristic of the season. The deeper shades have all been supplanted by dainty color effects. The gorgeous cardinals, royal purples and brilliant yellows have gone out they are smaller and the droop over | these delicate tints are better able to with feathers, and the blush rose, lilac and lemon are the favorites. The Paris milliners say that the flowers made in withstand the sun and wind than those of deeper shade. In fact, they are called ‘“‘fadeless.” The roses are all of the soft full-blown variety and are ex- | quisite in coloring. No matter how fas- tidious one may be in the matter of headgear, they can not fail to find something that satisfies their cravings. The shops are all well supplied and have an endless variety. There is the “Shepherdess” for the fin de siecle, the rolled walking hat for the tailor-made girl, the flower toques for the airy- fairy girly-girlies, flaring hats for “my lady picturesque,” hats for long faces, short faces, thin faces, plump faces—in short, any kind of a face. And even if San Francisco does refuse to obey absolutely the man(.lates of H. R. H. Dame Fashion, the” effect is just as charming as in cities where they are more subservient to the royal effects. Shall I confess it? I think it more charming. For give me, above all, va- riety. ALINE DE MEREAU. SWEET MUSIG EASTER EGGS. HE chocolate hen has laid a can- dy egg that is the most wonder- ful thing you ever heard of. It is a musical egg, and capable, in its turn, of hatching out sounds that will fill the neighborhood of the small boy owner with chagrin and as- tonishment. The candy man wondered and wondered what to make this year that would be new, that would cause the other candy men to open their eves and perish with trade envy and the customers to greedily buy. And that is how the musical egg came about. It is so hard that surely a Plymouth Rock hen must have laid it—though they say the big chocolate one that weighs fourteen pounds did bring about this curfosity. At any rate, there it {s—a glorious preparation of sugar, that makes your mouth fairly water. But you mustn’t let it—for that would mean death and destruction to the magic egg. Sf}very boy who gets one—and as it is somewhat expensive, few wiil be the proud possessors of the wonder—will straightway want to gobble it up, in- stead of getting its secret from it in the form of a beautiful sound. That is, it will be beautiful sound if the boy is a musician—otherwise it will proba- bly drive the neighbors out of the opposite flat. If it is eaten, that will kill the plano that lavs the golden notes, for music can only be produced !frnrn the invention when it is intact— and that’s all there is about it. Of course, it will be hard to stand | and just look at that egg and not bite | it, or so much as take a teenty weenty “lick,” but any self-denying young man | ought to be able to do that much for the sake of the saccharine sounds that will e if properly coaxed. There never was such a strange little egg— | not even the Roc's fabulous one was as | weird—for this can make sweet sounds | —“‘Sweet Marie” and “Sweet Rosy | O’Gradv ” or whatever her name was —and this is the way it seems to be made: | It is hollow inside, of course, and on | the outside in one end there is a depres- sion, across the mouth of which there are stretched half a dozen parallel bars " “ISN'T IT A LOVE?" of brass, something like a jewsharp, and when blown upon they emit melo- | dies more. or less enchanting—mostly | less, I am afraid, unless you happen to | be an embryo Hofmann. There is another novelty in Easter- ville, Candy County. this year. Tt is a rabbit that goes by clockwork, and mnever misses a stroke of time. He is a school tiacher, and a more solemn and stately rabbit it would be hard to find. He is a rare old fellow, full of choco- lates and vanilla and good will, that fairly beam behind the glasses on his ridiculous nose. Why do rabbits al- ways look as if they had colds in the head? SHE MAKES A HANDSOME LIVING Out of Egg-Farming. O COMBINE book publishing and poultry keeping is an idea which it takes an enterprising woman to carry out. This woman is Mrs. Sarah L. Bliss, who is the publisher of the Brooklyn Blue Book, and at her coun- try place, just outside the borough of Brooklyn, and within the limits of Greater New York, she has started a chicken farm. Commencing less than a year ago with twenty-five chickens, she has now over 1000 fowls, ducks and turkeys. “Is there any money in keeping poul- try?” was the question asked -~ Mrs. Bliss at her Brooklyn office. “I will give you some notes from my expense book,”” was the reply, and then you can judge for yourself. Of course, the first year one cannot expect to reap great profits.” “It costs a penny a week to feed a hen. She will lay about 180 eggs per year. For these an average price of three cents each is given, four or five cents in winter and three cents in sum- mer. If you care to put it down in dol- lars and cents you might average it in this way: % 1 hen; fooa for 1 year at 1c a week. 180 eggs per vear at 8c each... ... . Balance in the treasury at end of year, per hen R Balance in the treasury, per 000 hens. 4 4880 €O | Balance in the treasury, per 2000 hens.. 8760 00 “I intend having at least 2000 fowls, and then I may clear $6000; wages, taxes, etc., will take a good $2000 or $1500. At present I have only one man to help me, and I pay him $32 a month, or $384 per year; three men will require in wages $1152. “Ducks are more profitable invest- ments, for the reason that their food is not so expensive. Where it costs a penny a week to feed a hen, the bill of fare for a duck may be of a variety and quality to please the most fastidious duckling and cost only one-half penny per week.” In the expense account it will noticed that “broilers” are not men- tioned. They are a small gold mine in themselves, and should pay the expense of the chicken farm, leaving clear profit for the eggs. Mrs, Bliss has never found any difficulty in disposing of her eggs, 600 every week going to one hotel. She considers the cochins and the wyandottes the most profitable breeds, and she has some original theories in regard to Henrietta's daily be diet, treating her as though she were a dyspeptic young lady, to a drink of hot water ®ach morning. Plenty of ground oyster shells are given, boiled carrots and fish: one great point is to vary the food, not to continue the same diet for any length of time, otherwise Mr. and Mrs. Fowl and all the little Fowls may strike, and threaten to change their boarding place. Plenty of cayenne pepper, of course, is given with the food. Incubators are used entirely on the Bliss place, one having accommodation for 600, one for 400 and one for 150, cost- ing from $60 to $20 each or thereabouts. Eight acres of land are needed for 2000 fowls, and some woodland if pos- sible. If ducks are kept, a pond is necessary. Mrs. Bliss devotes the business hours of the day to her publishing enterprise, coming in to her office in Brooklyn about 11 o’clock. - USED TO IT.