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J jSL* X. H i?
CONTtMTMENT. _., *
Happy th*face 'Death tbe uttered bonnet,
Merry eyes matchlag the ribbons oa it;
WUt batten the old, ton shawl and gown!
With her sunny hair, for a golden crown,
. flto’* the Helmet queen in all the land—
■ r With her happy fee* under the bonnet.
Her kingdom. the bOovr meadow* tain*
Her subjects. the birds sad butterflies there;
“f» »»to tbe dew ta the floweret s cup,
Whieh she quaffs with flee, ere the sun u up;
• the proudest queeu In ail the land.
With her winsome face under the bonnet.
flb* earn* not for fashion, earn not for
~ , fame;
Rhe knows not sorrow—to, her. but a name;
Bbe wean bright Jewels, the wild flowers
sweet.
And they lift their heads, her smile to meet;
Bbe s the happiest queen In all the land,
’Neath her old and faded bonnet.
Tolbqjßwbo an blest with wealth untold,
soeh Joy as her llf« doth bold;
Th *' y fael lh " 7 <r * ba »’W” how Uttl ” Uw T
The sweet content her eyes reveal;
We may And. If we search through all the
land,
A queen 'aeath * tattered bouses.
Housekeeping.
$ MARION’^MLS'TAKk4
i! i *’ st trwsr wars. "t ’ • Q
tome<J U> sen men at her feet—to hats
them smile at her bidding and obey
her slightest whiot, that there was a
singular fascination in knowing her
tnomenUry caprices had do power to
>, sway the current of one men's will,
that what be thought right be held to,
even should it subject him to her dis
pleasure Hie wooing had hot l<een
very demon st rati re. In a few simple,
straightforward words, he told her of
hie lore, and asked her to l>e hie wife,
but when she Lad as quietly answered
him in silent wonderment at her own
submission, ho drew her to him and
Cressed a single kiss upon her fore
sail, and for one moment, an she lay
in hie arms, a look came into bis face
I as of a man who has son a grand race,
whose triumph all the world must
exult i" Women smiled ebeflfhcen
—Mus «"J. A danger
ous rival was removed from their path
way Men frowued. Who was this
man who had outstripped them in the
ranks? They had not even recognized
him as a competitor, and, 10l be ba 1
Itorne away the prize. Hut of all this (
outward conjecture the lovers heeded i
little Oure Nelson said to her, as he i
I lude her good night after returning
from an evening of dissipation at some
fashionable bail:
*'l shall be so glsd. Marion, when all
thia is over, when society will l»e con
tent to let us drop from its roll, and
retire into our nun quiet boma life.**
•‘Oh. bat Nelson,” she answered,
“society is not going to give u« up
aim ply because we are married. I el
pert to make quite a eeuaativa, I as
sure you. aa Mrs. Ellin”
“A sensation! My wife a sensation?
I trust net Wives. Mario a, have
other duties, which I hope the girl 1 ,
love will And greater pleasures than
any society can offer I am not a
jealous man. Marion at leaet not cos
ecvously so, but to see you as I have
secu you to night, giving your smiles,
your glances to other men. baa shown
me bow little I r--nld tolerate in a
wife. Hut I will *V>ee for all you
give up. dear, by devoting my life to
you. and making your bappmese my
It was boars after he left tier l>efoee
Marion fell asleep Kbe could bare
yielded society with all Its glare sad
glitter without a pang.but what be had
■ar - am I had
not as a soraetluag yielded far his
sake, but taken it as a simple matter
of course He seemed U ignore that
jfi it might ho her to sacrifice to vield
that which hm< really given bee keen
enjoyment Suppose tbe light in the
J crowded ball rooms was artificial, it
was none the less pleasant to bee
young eyes, ts tbe whispered nothings
in her rare were subtle dattaries. they
were so delicatelv rvile-l that they fell
W softly and jarred not It had grown
C* rt of heT life, and simply l-rcause
r life was to be merge-! with his
■ must she leave behind her all tbe pleae
anl follies of bet youth?
When ho nett met bet Nelson taieoed
1 nomething. Her greeting Lad loot
none of its warmth, bet smile none cd
its eweetneaa. but there was sow and
m then aa abaeut look m ber eyea which
■ hmlol Lira long after be bad left
her
It was at this time that Allen Fane
> eame upon tbe eeene He and Marv-a
ha I been friend.- when children He
bad carried with him all these years
the pictured memory of bet face, and
when be returned to find Its relaal
bounty all undimmed, the first glad
Beta was met with tbe absolute shock
until to was rudety ’ irvakened- from
them, aa onb walking paaaefagw In hi*
sleep upon an unguarded jxrJwyf, sud
denly is aroused to agense ofhis great
danger., Marion met'him with a
warmth which brought *a ray of hope
into the darkaeaa. - He might yet re
trieve hia late return, tod, subtly,
quietly, to. laid the snares which were
to entrap her Feet
“I suppose it would be hard enough
to fiP v ® you. up, Marion, to any one,**
he said to her one evening when her
lover was absent “Notwithstanding
my own lore is hopeless, I eannot make
• secret of its existence to you. I
could not hide ft if I would, but to
you give yourself to a man who
prizes youi loveliness only as a Turk
bis slave, who will possess it only that
he may hide it from the world, who
will doom your young life to be spent
only for his own selfish ends, is intol
erable to me.”
“You do Mr. Ellis great injustice..
Allen. Bnt even did I think him so
selfish as you portray him,-1 certainly
would not discuss his faults with any
one so long as I looked upon him as
my promised husband.”
But when again and again her be-
urged her to' appoint a day
*J>en be might call ber really his. Allen
Fane's words came to her mind.
L.pked to her own unexpressed
thought which had rankled so long and
%-wed the first seed of £ doubt, she
'shrank at tbe idea of taking the step
from which there was do withdrawal.
“Why are you so anxious. Nelson?”
she at last said to him. “Think of tbe
long years we are to spend together.
Absolutely it is appalling. You will
get tired of me soon enough.”
“Tired of you, darling! Does one
tire of the sunlight or voluntarily seek
the shadow? It seems to me since I
hare met you that I bare only for tbe
first time realized what a great loon
life may prove. . I have waited long
and patiently, dear. Give me the
promise I a*k to-night. Let tbe June
rosea blossom for uiy bride, and the
robin's song echo our happiness.”
“Where shall we a|ieud the summer.
Nelson?”
“I have chosen a little cottage far
away from the noise and bustle of the
world. It i« perfect in ila every ap
pointment, and we can spend the long
summer days in forgetfulness that
there exists the seething, surging cur
rent of human life, from which we have
•o separated our own. Do you won
der 1 am impatient, dear?”
“Oh, but. Nelson. I hate cottage
life, au<t I am sure our society would
become mutually uubcarable m such
monotony.”
“What do yon in-an, Msrtodw'kpnd
Nelson Ellis's lips gr«w white 1 , * Ou.
yon, who have promised to spend your
whole life with me, talk of it already
aa beyond forbearance? Is this the
fond picture 1 hare painted of my
Lome? Pause, Ma-i*>n Think while
yet on tbe threshold. If your life is
1 mine, it Ixlongs not to tbe world. If
' it i« tbe world's, then in it I have no
claim. I offer you, darling, all I have
1 a»k of you only yourself, but I ask it
as a free boon an I one which is placed
w illingly in my keeping Yon must
decide. Marion, for yourself. I had
bo|>«*d your decision long winea irrevo
cable, but ones more I place tbe cboica
in y-Hir bands.*'
“You say you ask of me only my
self. Is it not all 1 Lave to give? I
eannot give up the world to lead the
life of a recluse, even though yon so
selfishly make tbe demand. One
wonbl suppose I was a child to be dic
tated to at adi It Las all been a mta
lake. Mr. Elli*. and we may truly con
gratulate ourselves that our eyes have
l«een rpened in time to redeem an
otherwise fatal error. like J>art as
friends, I Lope*”
“Friends? Who baa been at work?
Whose hand may I thank for having
laid this network of worldlinesa and
su«pieion in tbe mind of a girl. who.
I a few short month* ago, harborad do
i »u<*h thought* \ou e<»uld not trust
me, then, with y.>ur beauty. k<»u
' feared I would guard it lieyood tbe
I reach of other ryes. True, 1 might
have held it as a sacred shrine, but Ila
hto’ni. Its radiaues would have been
andiru*.'cd till death robbail me of
t«*tb Y<»u give me up, then* So be
it. Go back to your world! Glory m
it; revel ta it. and teach men the les
son you have given tue, that the
brighter the eye. tbe fairer tbe cheek,
, the falser the heart (toad evening.
Mi*e Remolds,” and. with a low bow.
Nelson EJhs went vat from the light
mln the shadow
Marton et>w-l a* ta a stupor. She
bat spa-ken her own thoughts for the
first time, foe the first time expressed
! the feeling shirk so long had rankled
i 'low esdd. bow heartless and worldly
it had wounded e»eu to her ears What,
was the selfi.besoe cd which she had
mwwsed her loves but the reflex of her
own? Had tbe world really grown so
,‘ewr to ber that she could mA yield it
up, even in tbe first flash of wifehood
i by a haeband’e aide* How inviting
i tbe picture La-1 l-evn* Hbe bad aot
really meant what she had said. Hbe
> had not dreamed Nelaoa would aw no
i eept her at her word, aud wordlees de-
> epair was in the beautiful eyes, ns tbe
> hot tears welled nr end droppad one
I by cuse fasta* and faster, until she
l t-ened ber bead m her Lands and
- J sobbod aa a child
li But there uas one whs heard of tbe
UCH n strange
wooing was that
of Nelson Ellis.
Perhaps its very
strangeness won
Marion Bey
nobis into as
sent. She has
been »o accus-
face wtoa *
i ncrt*hft woman to tod deUK >
miaecVowinw hisoww. • c
i “You' did, AkudidJy, Marion,” to
i said to h«u ♦Lavolnottold you inw
» the flrrt. Eyf *<>*» evenU 1
hia tore, appreciatedytm I ’
But now,' darUnr, that yotnare tr— to '
to won and lto»oo,,.will yon Dot let
me prove that man may to generoua?
I could tore pi’in Ton up to any bther
if I van st
stake, bnt nv to one I read uo welL”, -
-“Huh, Al .n, buhl It seem* to me
desecration to words. If
he were selfishneae
glorious. to show
a man who whole noble
heart at a et how frivolous,
worldly and him is that for
which he thrown away
the highest prize IB’ lottery will ever
offer me. I have w-coed to the subtle
word* which bofne seed* of
distrust—but noWtot al! is over, and
I have with my owahan3 plucked the
unblossomed >t least do
him justice, my heart is
hia, hia only, n-ay never
know it.” ,
Baffled only foiS; moment, Allen
determined to let |ue work its cure,
and sooner or JatesAhieve the end on
which his mind wa-w ent.
,It was a great LTefit. The opera
house was crowded and many turned
ere the curtain raise | to look at the last
newcomers, who entered their
box. None who leaked on that'fair
young girl she tore be*
neath that outward (how a heart sad
dened and weary, to| which were ever
added the pangs of* remorse. Allen
Fane is by her side night, hopeful,
exultant as of old. Tor six months be
has played hie role without faltering.
Soon he mnst meet hi* reward. The
curtain rises and falls to rise again.
The bonse ia enthusiastic. Flowers
fall like rain upon tbe stage. But when i
the evening is but half over aud the
atraina of the lovely aongatresa a«-em to ;
rise sweeter aud rearer every mo- i
mrut, a tongue of flame leaps ont from ’
><ehin<l tbe acenes. Tbe aong dies on
her lipa, tumult gives place to raptur- ■
oua ailenee, and on the air isboruethe
cry of “Fire!”
Men act like madmen, women faint
and are trampled to ileAth by tbe crowd.
Fale l*ut silent, Marion turns to the
man at her aide. He is no longci there, i
Have her he could Dot z but for himnelf I
lay one dea|»erat4 chance, which he
seized as a drowning man a straw. She j
was alone—alone and balpleas,dei>erte<l
by him who ha 1 told her of that other's
•elfishnesr A
“Keep calm. Our only j
hope li*« is <l<aaaaaa*^^^BF M tshovfl e*f
citement I will ravvjrow ordiewith i
you,*' uhi»|»ercd a vcioe in her ear.
an<l turning she saw the man who Lad {
fought his way not to life and air, but
to her side to bear her with him into
safvty or share her peril.
“I am not worthy. Nelson. Sac* ■
yourself, and «bra y<»n think of me,
rriuerul>er that my folly *u for th* 1
moment, that I have met it* just re
ward. for 1 loved you through it all.”
“Hush, darling, hush —even though |
vour word* nerve me to fresh eoufuge. 1
Marion, will it be my wife with whom
I live or die?”
“Your wife, if you will taka ber. Nel
son. Happier Io meet death at your
aide than live apart from you.”
But death »m Dot to have hie prey.
And. though Nelaoa bear* on his hand
worn* brow * cruel *ear, tn hl* wife •
loving ey*s it i* new beauty, un<w it
ever telle her of th* nob'.* struggle
which rsve hev life aad happiness -a ,
life which met it* neh 'ulflllment when
crowned by Nelao® EJ i* '• love,—The
Ledger
WISE WOIDS.
Only tn a world aincere men i*
unity p«»**ilJe, and ll ere. m tbe long
run, it ia a* good •• certain.
If you have built cistlee in tbe air, 1
V'-ur work need not be lost that ia
where they *h<»nld be# Now put foun
dations under them -
Every day i* a littb life, nod oar
whole life i* but a day repeated.
Tbo«* therefore that j da.-* loea a day
are «langcro-i*ly prodigal. '
There can be no sociM l-eauty. where
diMirder prevail*, no national beauty
where law ia set al naight, do beauty
of life where tbe true »nda of life ar*
<li*regarde«L
Character ia sxw ved by tha dia
tan-e traveled from the starting punt,
and everything depends upon whether
tbe progreae Las l*esa up stream or
down.
Bethink thee of wosething that thou
oughtest to do, aad g> asd do it, if it
be but th* sweeping a room or the
* preparing of a meW! or a vimi to *
fnsndL Heed not lh> feahngu: do thy
vol .
Politone** is * kifld ot
which anrejcp* tbe *spenl.c* of our ’
ehamrter ee that othiw people be Dot
wooded by them. We should never
’ to without it, even when we eoetend
with th* rude
Some my that the age of ehimlry i*
> past The age of chivalry m never
i f»*t *o long aa there is a wrong left
> on earth, w a man or •
| vxMnaa left to *ny. *'l *dl redrew that
i rtoi* or spend my life in th* ak
», tempt.” _
Cream toe* atolzM* KAgtag •»
«***••*
: Batoto cf tto plain, sheer/silky
quality with ituertion of etenmdtoe
and tore edging to match, waa selected
for this Btyiiah wai*t that May Manton
*ay» will prove exceedingly becoming
to youthful flgwM. A gtovo-fitted
lining that reaches to the wairt line
support* tbe materjflL The beck i*
acamle**, tbe sdditfaDa! fulness at the
waixtiline being i&kwu well to .the
eentrK while the front* droop in slight
blouse effect over a girdle of liberty
satin. The fronts separate, showing
a smooth rest or* plastron composed of
batiste .decorated by bands of inser
tion, the whole arranged over petunia
colored glace silk. The neck is shaped
in low, rounding! outline, presenting
the guimpo effect that is exhibited in
many of the newer gowns. The collar
is of the crush order with the ustfffe
frill of“ace Th* sleeve* areW
the mousquet.(u?e variety and J&vr
close-fitting with the exception of tbe
little puffatthetop that is surmounted
by a full short ‘epaulette that some
what console* one for the loa* of the
additional material that one gloried in
last season. The outside sesms of
sleeve* ebow tuck shirring* through
which cord* can be inserted to regulate
tbe fulness, and th* wrists have a soft
jwn ■
Im ■ w
Vi X '*- /
Nil I J>
r 11 j
V 'A ” I
lljf
Xvx & fl
-ijf *
LADIES' SLEEVES.
frill of lace extending well over the
hand*. Tbe mole i* adaptable to all
aeasonsble fabnc« iDcludiag totiste.
' canvas weave*, organ<ly, l*rege,
i grenatline. ete., that ean be mad* over
colored linings of silk or “near silk”
which 1* an excellent aubatitute of
tbe genuine artirie. aa ils name implies,
an l can be bad io all the Dew shade*.
fc
ladces* ovnsru water. ’
The waist here illustrated doeea in
viaibiy al the left side.
To make this waist for • lady ia ths
medium an will require three and
I
T,e ’ «to Ginned
f This season there is a greater variety
otb.lt. »a girdle.
■ - > i, . »i.i. , j. .
;■ ■■
-t'
'' ’
W’-Wi 11iviBz/
. . ? ' rk . VC* • f
CHILD 8 DDESS. i
I
. offered tne sulnmer girl in many year*,
i Belts and girdles are of five principal
sorts. Very popular is the narrow
’ belt of lizard skin or other fancy
leather fastened by a simple slide of
i plain gold. The belt of plain white
, kid is of similar cut and isj the only
correct one to wear with suits of white
linen and duck.
The Hootch belt is the prettiest nov
elty thia year. It ia of medium width
nbbon, of Scotch plaid design, and
fastened by an exquisite little bnckle
of plaided enamel. The dark nblioo
belt of a color to match the eo«tume is
fastened as usual with the large orna
mental buckle of rfold or silver. '
For those who are tirejKf the leather
l>elta the girdle of silver, set with imi
tation jewels, is the favonte. This in
I*articularly pretty when worn with
gowns of thin texture.
Ties this year are of many varieties.
The narrow string tie. the soft rildioa
Iktw, the four-m-hsnd and the ascot
are all popular. Th* numlwr <4 the
new collars is legion and the summer
girl who cannot find a style that is lie
coming to her is to be reckoned unfor
tunate—New York Journal
watte Gtevws A<ala.
Naught completes the diaphanous
summer toilet so well as white gloves
—really white, of course. Nothing
spoils a summer costume eo quickly
and effectually as a dingy glove. But
then it it so easy to clean white
gloves, and they look eo well when
they are cleaned, that there ia no ex
cuse for the woman who puts on a
dirty glove. There is the u-»xd white
glows, the cream and the ivory glove.
All these are beautiful, and all are
cleaned without difficulty.
The wasted mental force would do
all the work of tho world.
-