Newspaper Page Text
allies and fashions.
O.E OF the things which
:'ntee*-T the gentlbr stx.
l Lit•'•‘3 Gossip Picked Up Hero aid
a Few stories Which Indicate
. e way the World Wajs -Tne latest
- ac i - m Gowns and Sonnets—A Few
showing the D.rsction of the
Fashions.
\n elegant dinner dress of old brocade,
, s t be New York Sun, with very full
unn iers escaping from a jetted girdle, las
leeres and festooned flounces of black
inissels net, while a pale blue moisseline
<oi evening dress completes the list of
,anniered gowns, suggesting endless possi
rlities to carry out in different materials,
‘bis particular S owu ** made with tur
u Ije and silver galloon, bordering a low
■ rsagr opening over a low gathered yoke
n .j full sleeves of white chiffon. A heavy
rer rd divides the bodice and panniers,
is knotted in Cleopatra fashion in
r?n t. The skirt with its border of galloon
was over a narrow front of chiffon.
Remember always in making the new full
pits that foundation skirts must be widened
/the foot, too, many of them having two
fPidtbs of silk at tne back, with two or
j. r .. g -is of tapes to draw the fullness back.
v P nu’sid * skirst is tacked invisibly to the
Diindation to hold the lullness in graceful
ines.
Tne panniers just now are made as soft as
oible, with thin silk lining, but probably
nil be later on lined with most stiff and
vr.ssi ve material. Of course every' w.anau
ho reads of these new skirts will shut her
rs m scornful doubt, and fit her spring
own’s skirt as tightly as ever, but wait
ntil the roses come, and again until the
'-ova blaze with scarlet and yellow and
;,en fade and fall, and see whether prophe
sies fail or not.
Nothing is quite so uuimportant—to some
ieopl<—as time. Not their own time, but
ime that is t:.e of some
one else. It is a peculiarity of women more
tbau of men. I don’t know why, unless
from tbe fact that the majority of women
do not gauge life by the hours of which the
day is made, writes Teresa Dean in the
Chicago Herald.
Not long ago two women called upon a
newspaper correspondent. Both were per
fectly well aware of the importance of her
time and that there were certain hours in
which she received no one. The first lady
was told that Mrs. was engaged and
cou and not be disturbed. She said:
“Flease take my card to her. lam sure
that she will see me.”
The attendant said: “You will have to
excuse me; my orders are imperative.”
lhe lady walked away highly indignant,
and friendship’s chain was broken beyond
repair, for tbe most important links were
lost
The other lady was told that Mrs.
was not at home. She said:
"Oh, I know what that means. It is her
busy day, and she is not seeing any one. I
will c me in, and you tell her that Mrs.
is here ”
The attendant was true to hei assertion,
end said:
“No; she is really not at home.”
The lady laughed and stepped in with the
worls:
"That’s all right. You tell ter that lam
here. I know her so weli, and she knows
that she cannot lock nfe out as she does
others.”
The assertion was reiterated. The lady,
wjth a keen appreciation of her own intui
tion, and a much amused manner, walked
into the reception room and seated herself,
saying:
"Well, now, you better tell her, or I will
go into her ‘den’ myself.”
IShe sat there twenty minutes and then
discovered that Mrs. was—notathome.
She had gone out just before the caller ar
rived.
Some time and in some fashion, says the
Illustrated American, the young uuwedded
" man will be called on to make a decided
stand against the invasion of the matron
up a her special provin je. There is scarcely
p ace left now for the sole of her slipper be
tween the school and the strip of carpet
Viefore the matrimonial alta-. She is simply
driven into a corner and told to marry at
once or lay down her passport into realms
of serial gayetv.
The arrogance of the married woman
concerning her monopoly of society amuse
ments is more intolerable than trade union
tyrannies. She won’t hear to having un
paued belles brought into competition with
her attractions. If they choose to chime it
must be with a conjugal clapper, and not as
rtif-rry, independent tinklers, ringing a dis
tracting little tune of unmated fi iskiness.
birls are still permitted to have debuts,
hilt oven on those great occasions the young
matron, steps in, and, by right of double
blessedness, takes all the cakes and ale. Ti e
shy, sweet miss is left to cut a poor figure
indeed. And so on, from first to last.
The married woman opens the ball, leads
the german, occupies the opera boxes, de
mands ail the dinner invitations, tills the
victoria, receives at the tea, thereby squeez
ing the girl Into such a email corner that no
one is ever able to find her behind madame’s
overcrowded engagement book.
Why parrots, says the Now York Tribune,
are so prone to profanity, and lako natu
rally to the strongest of epithets, it is hard
to say—probably it is the emphasis that is
usually given to such expressions; but be it
ns it may, they really teem to enjoy the
“swear words,” as the children say, and
use the naughty expressions sometimes with
dramatic effect. A well-known artist whose
marvellous facility in imitating the expres
sions of the different 1 irds or beasts he
represents in liis stories cannot, unfortu
nately, be reproduced, gives anew parrot
story which was, as he told it, with the
very gestures and looks of the birds, ex
tremely amusing; and even without the
advantage of such a raconteur it is worth
adding to the numberless stories of these
seemingly half-human creatures.
In a suburb of New York there lived two
maiden ladies, whose quiet home was
brightened by an intelligent and most ad
mirably brought-up Polly, to whom her
gentle mistresses had taught an elaborate
vocabulary of the most carefully chosen
moral sayings anil pious ejaculations.
Having concluded one summer to go to the
seashore for esange of air, they engaged
hoard at the house of an old cap
tain, whose cruising days were over,
mid who eked cut his little in
come by “takin’ city folks for the
summer.” Miss Priscilla, who made
the arrangements, was delighted beyond
measure to And an ancient parrot sitting on
the clothesline post in the back yard, a bird
who eyed the cheerful little lady with groat
disfavor as he stood huddled up on bis
perch, with his feathers ruffled by the keen
-March wind. The kind spinster, however,
Was charmed. ‘‘What a very agreeable
companion for our dear Polly!” she said en
tnusiastically, accounting this happy cir
cumstance an especial attraction; and both
si.-ters congratulated themselves on their
great good tortuue in having obtained such
a pleasure for their favorite. The
day of exodus finally arrived, and with
boxes and packages innumerable aud the
hugo cage of their beloved parrot. Miss
Pr.scilla and Miss Nancy arrived at their
summer qu rters. Eager to effect an intro
duction and to see tne happy friendihip
begun, they carried Miss Polly at once to
the yard, where the old fellow was still
sitting in the same spot looking as if he had
l ever moved. Polly fluttered her wings and
gave ali tie friendly cry. “Just see how
pleased she is!” chirruped the good ladies
simultaneously as they put her up on the
edge of the post. The ancient bin! eyed her
distiustfully, and edged sideways along the
taut clothesline. The newcomer, with an
engaging twist of her head, followed him,
I arrut fashion, ‘‘Pretty Polly,” she said
*"eetljr and insinuatingly with ut>-
hf u*d claw. The tm-autbrope still
njed "her gloomily and sidle i u
tew steps further alone the line. Again
the well-brought-up and am able pet of the
old ladies followed him with head on one
side and an almost visible smile. “Pretty
Poll, sho said again. Once more he re
treated, and tliia time he reached the next
and last post on the line. Still more
friendly and evidently bound to make ac
quaintance, the newcomer still sidled along
after him. “Pretty Poll,” she essayed
for the third and last time, when
the hoary-headed old sinner turned on
her with a look of utter exasperation, and
with a sudde mess that nearly tore v her
off her porch, thundered “Go to
t——l” Tne utterly shocked and horritled
ladies put their pet away in hot haste from
such ail extremely u nie-irable neighbor.
“Only fancy!" they said, with consterna
tion, “if our darling should remember such
a terrible expression.’' However, the un
amiable proprietor of the back yard and
clothes-line had gained his point, and be
was left for the rest of the summer in un
disturbed possession.
One of the best ideas of the season, says
the New York Times, appears in the dresses
with plain, round skirt and waist. Bodice
and skirt are sewed together asl a wide
belt of the goods is provided. These were
introduced last fall in calico for $4 and in
wool for $7 50, but a much fuller lins of
them is shown this spring at the reduced
price, for cottons, of $1 37. Thev make the
best of working morning gowns, and will
prove a boon to many, as the price is so low
tuat a plentiful supply mar be bought. For
housemaids they are precisely what is
needed, and with the ready-made aprons
make it possible for every domestic to dress
with uniform neatness, and even with much
taste, since they are by no means made
up of the unsalable designs, but are offered
in tasteful prints. These goods will bring
relief, thus, to not a few ladies who do not
care for them for their own use, since it will
be just to insist that the slovenly attire of
the average girl, especially the “one girl,”
who is expected to serve in every capacity,
be banished; so s ringently forbidden that
it will not come forth on unlucky days to
to disgust callers to whom the wearer
thereof opens the door, or take away the
appetite of those upon whom she attends at
table.
At 12 00 is to be seen a chambray wrap
per in solid color, with trimming of white
embroidery. The shape is new, being a re
vival of one so old that it is almost forgot
ten, the genuine sack wrapper fl iwing
straight from the shoulder without yoke,
and without darts or fittings ot anv kind.
It is unlined, and without its deeply sur
pliced throat makes an idealjnegligee for a
warm morning. A belt accompanies it to be
used if desired About the V-throat are set
groups of tucks inside the white edging. Blue
and pink chamiray are extremely pretty
in this manner. By the way, these piain
chambrays of pure, steadfast coloring,
which were once such universal favorites
as to be considered indispensdhle in a sum
mer outfit, are being looked upfon with un
usual partiality this season. This Is well,
for they have—notably the pink—a clear,
summerly look not equalled by any cotton
of their price, except the old-fashioned
lawn. They possess an advantage, too,
which most of the novelty cottons lack,
that of being presentable without silk
foundation, though they are effective
with it. ,
“Let me give you my English address,’
said a swell tailor to one of Now York’s
golden youths who had visited his rooms at
the Hoffman bouse where the “sartorial
artist” took orders and measurements for a
famoui London house. The very perfectly
dresred and polite creature, says the New
York Tribune, handed his customer a card
which was as neat and unostentatious as
one of the young gentleman's own. “Thank
you,” said the latter, vaguely thrusting >t
into his pocket and never g ving the
wrelched bit of pasteboard another thought
until —but this is anticipating.
In the meanwhile a young beauty ar
rived from the west to mate a visit to some
friends in New York. A night or two af
ter her arrival, a lielmouico ball happened
to be on the tapis, where she mad‘> her first
appearance, and was the decided hit of the
season. Among those upon whom she made
a decided impression was Mr. Z , to
whom we have ju9t referred; and among
many others he received a gracious
permission to call—a permission of
which he was not slow to avail him
self. The 4 ‘prairie flower,” as she had been
at once christened by her admirers, was in
her friend’s boudoir when the card was
brought up to her by the footman. “\Y r hy,
what a swell!” said the fair westerne-, toss
ing it over to her hostess. “You just told
me that I must have a tailor-made gown.
Will this man do?”
Mrs. A read the neatly engraved card:
C. A. S .
P l’s. London.
Ladies’ gowm a specialty.
“Why, of course,” she answered. “This
is really fortunate; he is just the man of all
others. You go down and talk with him,
Bessie, and I will fallow in a minute, if you
like, and give my valuable advice.” “Come
down directly, if you can,” said the beauty,
as she rose to go, “lor I never could decide
by myself.”
During this interval the enamored swain,
who, by the way, was an exceedingly shy
man, was soliloquizing in the drawing
room: “Stupid of me not to ask for Mrs.
A ; I must have lost my head. I won
der it it is too late now !”
A rustle at the door interrupted his
meditations, and he clutched his hat and
started to his feet. As he was advancing to
shake hands he received to his astonishment
a frigid little bow from the young lady,
who, without asking him to be seated,
dropped into the nearest chair, and to his
astonishment began with;
“You have recently come from London?”
“Why, yes,” he stammered, thinking to
himself, “Well, Omaha young ladies are
odd, to say the least of it:”
“I prefer English styie to all others,” she
went oil very graciou-ly. “Iain sure that
is very kind of you,” he said, feeling that
there was some method in her madness after
all. "J have always admired your cut,” she
pr ceeded with great calmness.
“Good gracious!” thought the unfortunate
visitor, “she must be mad; there is no doubt
of it; this surely cannot bo western chaff."
As she continued, to his increasing fright:
“When I received your card I said to Mrs.
A , I am sure he is ju>t the person for
me”—this with a brilliant smile completed
the terror of the young man.
“I must fly,” he sail to himself desper
ately, “but how ever can I get away!”
Another rustle at the door, and this time
Mrs. A appeared. “Ho wd’ you do, Mr.
Z ,” she said, w ith a bright smile of wel
come. “Why, Bessie, has your tailor
gone?”
The latest models in hats, says the New
York M T orl(l, show them to be dreams of
tulle, lace straw, fl iwers. lace, feathers and
birds. Thev are very small, the majority
of them, and those that are large are of
such fine delicate open texture that the sizs
of the brim does n t materially add to the
weight, nor in appearance doos it stamp the
bat as being the large shade hat which its
circumference would suggest if the brim
were of solid material. At the theater, at
morning weddings and on callmg.expedi
tions one sees these immense lace straw
hats. Yet so open are they and so delicate
that one’s view is scarcely obstructed by
them, nor does the wearer appear to lie bur
dened by the weight of her headgear.
Rush straw forms the material for many
pretty models. One of the newest ones is a
hat in fantastic shape, caught up on the
right side with three large scollops. The
scollops are fastened to the top of the crown
with sprays of lilacs. Loops of green rib
bon stand upright at front and back, and
green velvet ribbon strings are tied under
the chin in a tiny bow. Another hat be
coming to large, decided features and wavv
hair u a bishop’s hat. It is three-cornered,
and comes in fine bl-ck straw. One point
sits directly over (he right eye.
Do nut make the mistake of, endeavoring
to poise this point over the nose. It gives
too great a sbarpnes ito the features. The
two remaining points are ovor the psyche
knot, lbe brim uprolls all the way around,
and the edge of the bonnet Is scolloped fan
cifully. At the back tiisro is a cluster of
THE MORNING NEWS: SUNDAY, MAY 3,IBOI—TWELVE PAGES.
tips. A row of fe ther-edee trimming U
fastened upon the brim inside of the row of
scollops. This bat has a snug, trim look,
while, at the same time, it is not as harsh
and severe against the face as the English
walking hats, the plain helmet, tbe sailors
or the derby. It is just the thing to wear
with a tailor-made gown.
Avery pretty hat seen at the Madison
Square theater on the first nignt of “Ala
bama'’ was of ecru lace straw. It was
crownless. The band of straw surrounding
tbe coiffure was very fine, and was I eld in
s apa by almost invisible strips of gauze.
The bonnet was thickly studded with nail
heals or “jewels” to represent amuth vstv,
emeralds and garnets. There were no other
trimmings except ecru strings, which were
fastened to tne back of the bonnet with
garnets. Tbe bonnet was extremely becom
ing to the blonde wearer, who had just be
low it, high around her neck, a string of
immense beads. These were ostensibly of
gold, though their size warranted oue be
lieving that they might have been of tinsel
or tbe thinnest of gold plate. Each bead
was as large as an English walnut and all
were strung upon a wire. The fastening
was accompl.sfced by means of a yellow
gold tinsel bow.
Of all the little true stories in the firmrifi
exchanges this, from the Housekeepers'
Weekly, seetns the most natural. It is
headed "Danger of Dont’s,” and reads as
follows:
“Now, mamma, I ”
Thus the child began, and was stopped
short by her mother.
"L ttie, how many times I’ve told you
not to begin with ’now’. It is ‘Now,
mamma,’ ‘Now, I can’t,’ ‘Now, I will,’
•Now something or other continually.
Don’t say it again! The very first time you
do I will send you to stand fifteen minutes
in the corner.”
Little Lottie knew full well the terror of
that punis: meat. What an eternity it
seemed to her to stand that length of time
with her face to the wall, not alllowed to
turn around, or speak, till told that the
time was out; for always after about three
mftiutes she felt sure the fifteen minutes
must be passed and that she, forgotten,
must stand there always! So oautious
Lottie retreated with her doll out of mam
ma’s hearing; and it being already late in
the day, escaped condemnation.
When the little night-gown had been
donned, and mamma said tenderly: “Now,
darling, say your little prayer.” Lottie
failed to notice now the catcher had been
caught on the “Now,” but answered:
“I can’t—l mustn’t.”
“Lottie! Why net?”
“Cause if I say my ‘ I lay me’ I must
stand in the corner.”
This little story is true to a T.
“A beautiful gown, which, though strictly
ahnorning dress, says the New York Times,
may be worn with perfect propriety for au
informal afternoon toi'et at home, is of fig
ured dimity, tne ground white, the little
leaf pink. Tivo-inch box plaits of white
embroidery run the full length of the gown
in front, with groupi of narrow tucks sup
porting them. Tucks and embroidery are
made to give a V-back, the point
touching the waist line. The front is loose,
the back tight, and the g iwn is unusually
graceful and pleasant to look upon,
suggesting a delightful vision of
sweet womanhood in summer array;
a vision which some pretty young
wonia i inay realize for her friends by pay
ing $8 90. The figured dimity noted in
this gown sells in good quality at 20 cents
a yard. There is no prettier texture in cot
tons than dimity, and its revival last year
after long neglect was welcomed, though its
price was such as to forbid any very general
acceptance of it. The season promises to
show a generous use of this goods, to the
sperm! advantage of childrens clothes and
ladies’ home toilets.' A dress of this, made
with untriramed skirt, the blouse close
fitting, with tucked back ad front, and
trimmed, like the turnover collar and cuffs,
with suite embroidery, sells at 46 25. The
ground is wnite, the small figure wntor
gray; a cool and simple gown for a hot day.
lhe skirt is cut to clar the floor and per
mitted more drapery than the French skirt.
“I had quite au amusing experience, ”
said a cnarining southern woman, the other
day, to a representative of the New York
Tribune, “as well as an interesting oue.
Perhaps you remember my maid Euphemia,
a pretty mulatto girl, wHo was ‘raised’ on
the plantation. My father gave her to me
for my very owu when Phemie, as we
called her, and I were about fourteen. She
was the most imitative little monkey ima
ginable, and to our intense amusement she
picked up exaotly all the affections and ex
pressions of my sister Bessie, whom you
may recollect we always called ‘Lydia
Languish’ on account of her airs and graces.
After the war was over and the negroes
had departed, together with all our other
worldly gear, Pnemio married, and in a
veir or two I lost sight of her altogether.
Shortly afterward we moved to New York,
and my husband a few years later found
himself maki g a comfortable income at
the tar.
“ ‘I have such an interesting case,’ he said
to me one evening, ‘involving a very large
amount of money; and, by the way, Annie,’
lie continued, with a humorous twinkle in
bis eyes that I did not understand until
afterward, ‘my client says his wife is an old
friend of yours from tne south and she
would like to call upon you.’
“ ‘An old friend,’ I said, delighted, ‘and
what did you say her name was? Mrs.
F——? I do not remember any such per
son, but doubtless her maiden name would
be familiar. Whoever can it be? I just
long to see some of my old crouies!’
“‘Well,’ said my husband, ‘you will
know to-day, probably, ns he said she would
call at once.’
“I stayed at home that afternoon on pur
pose, and about 4 o’clock the:e was a ring
at the door and the butler brought me a
small, neatly engraved card, Mrs. A. D. F.,
with a very good location as an address.
Greatly excited, 1 went downs.airs, and
who do you thi ,k I saw—Phemie? A re
splendent, expanded Phemie, but she her
self and no other. I was so ’taken aback’
that I 1 airly gasped!
“ ‘You did not expect to see me, Miss
Annie,” she said, with the easiest grace in
tne world, rising as I came in, ‘but I al
ways wanted to find you, and when my
husband told me tbe name of his lawyer X
knew at once it must be your “caro sposo” ’
—this, with great elegance, end the old
ridiculous imitation of Bessie that I remem
bered so well as being so inimitably funny
was so familiar and so delightful, and so
carried me back to the dear old plantation
days that, what with inward laughter and
old memories, I felt fairly hysterical; hut
Phemie never lost her composure. She
gave rne a most minute account of her
house, children and general prosperity, and
when she left she begged me to return her
visit as soon as possiole.”
Said Tom Lovabond t > Clara Belle in the
Enquirer the other day; “I can’t make
love lo a girl who has a shiny nose. I in
sist upon a dull finish!”
Now that warm weather is coming on this
question is al eady occupying the thoughts
of the summer girl. No one knows be,ter
tnan she the fatal results likely to flow from
the lack of what Tom callsa “dull finish”on
a maiden’s nose, and I take pleasure in in
forming such as care to know that there are
already three novelties in the market, all of
which are intended to be used in struggling
with nature’s obstinacy in polishing where a
dull finish would be so much more accept
able.
Tbe first is a sunshade with a hollow han
dle. The knob opens with a spring, and re
veals the powder and puffs, and thus the
summer girl will be enabled to touch up her
noee in front of every mirror in the hotel
parlor. In faot, as etiquette in Russia de
mands that you notify any one you may
meet of the presence in the end of his nose
of that fatal white tip which precedes de
struction by fr ezmg, so each summer girl
will be expected to watch her chum’s nose
and lunge at it with her powder hall, say
ing: “Excuse me, dear, your note needs
attention.”
In tbe ball-ro m, to*, abundant precau
tion will be take i to destroy this high polls i.
Fur Instance, a favor for the german will
eons Ist of a charming little mule in old bro
cade, with a high Louis XV'. bed in red or
gold. In the mierior of this pretty novelty
there will be feund a tiny p >wder-hox and
puff, a mirror and a box ot rose cosinetio
for the lipa. In this way tbe summer girl
may dance with all the vim and vigor she is
capable of, for she will be able at a mo
meat's notice to repair the damage wrought
by perspiration, and present hersv 'f to tier
partner as white, fresh and unpolished as a
cal.a lily.
There is still another novelty designed for
the use of the summer girl, or for any one
else who may choose to use it. It is called
mouchoir gras, or greasy handkerchief. It
consists of a square of tbe very finest
chamois, beautifully embroidered. It is
made slightly unctuous by mean of glycer
ine or vaseline, and is then thoroughly robed
in face powder, whicn adheres so closely to
it that the mouchoir gras may bo carried
in your pocket without losing any of its
load of face powder; but applied vigorously
to the lace it at once removes the p >lish and
imi arts a delicate, velvety, dull finish, as
pleasant to feel as it is to 1. ok at or lay your
cheek against.
“There goes a young man,” said an old
corner-window lounger ill the Union Club,
according to Clara Belle in the Republic,
“who has been a disappointment to me.
Quite a while ago I took a great liking to
him. He was always well-behaved, courte
ous and genial, and I thought him oue of
the likeliest boys in ourcluo. I never knew
much about him outside,except that he was
married and had a young family. Present
ly there were some stories got arouud about
him. His friends deplored the fact that he
bad become infatuated with another woman
than his wife, and said the situ
ation was growing serious. After
that I saw him about town in com
pany with a gayly-dressid creature,
who drank a great deal of wine and con
ducted herself conspicuously. I didn’t like
the woman, and I couldn’t keep in from
giving the boy a piece of advice about her.
it was when I met him dining at a restau
rant with her. He had stepped out into the
cafe to smoke a cigarette, leaving her with
some friends, and I pitched into him, say
ing the woman wasn’t in his class and he
ought to give her up. He flushed, and was
going to make a sharp answer, but stopped
himself and left me. After that he never
spoke to me, and I was sorry for
my presumption. Then one day I
was sitting here in the corner of tbe
club aud he passed the window
in company with one of the sweetest little
won on that I erer saw. She was as neat
and ladylike as a countess, and I began to
p:ty her, for I knew she was the noglected
wife. A friend of mine who was sitting
near me in the window at the time looked
at the young man, and said what a shanmit
was that he wns bringing disgrace on his
family, as ho was. I agreed, and empha
sized the shame of it by declaring that a
man who could neglect such a wile as the
little woman who was passing ought to be
horsewhipped.
‘“Oh, that's not Billy’s wife,’ said my
friend. ‘That’s the woman he’s neglecting
his wife for. Billy’s wife is a tall, auburn
haired woman.’
“I then learned that the loud-voicod ar.d
champagne-drinking creature that 1 tad
denounced to lhe young man was really bis
better half, while the sweet girl who had
aroused my pity was the serpant. Ob, yes,
indeed; tha; young man is a great disap
pointment to me. I began by liking h.m,
thought I had found a cause for despising
him. and now—weli, really, that tail, au
burn-haired tv man must boa very difficult
wife.”
Many a girl says Clara Belle in the Cin
cinnati Enquirer lias lost the dunce of her
liie by allowing her lover to catch a glimpse
of her ankles incased in wrinkled and ill
fitting stockings. 1 herefore would I say to
all young ladies contemplating matrimony
—not in the language of Punch, “Don’t,”
but simply look out for your ankles. See
that your stookiugs fit like gloves. Mo 1
are strange creatures, and their ardor
is often dampened by three drons of a sum
mer shower. A woman’s stocking is with
them a crucial tost, and, as courtship
usually takes place in theeven.ing, when the
walking boot has given place to the dainty
low slipper, be on your guard. A woman
once became Queen of France by losing her
dainty lace handkerchief, to which her
sachets had imparted a delicate and myste
rious odor. The prince picked it up and fell
in love with its to bun then unknown
owner. So, too, with a handsome stocking
which defines the elegance and grace of the
ankle. Ab, I tell you. young ladles, there’s
nothing like it!
I see some delightful hosiery nowadays—
all kinds, colors, patterns and textures,
from the white silk ones of the bride to the
black silk of tho ereentrique, embroidered
with lilies in gold or 6ilver. Intermediate
there are dozons to choose from. There is
the black silk with embroidered fljwers
extending from the back of the leg and
ankle over tbe instep, and the biack silk
lined with pink, and the colored silk with
Inca application extending lengthwise over
the instep, and the mourning stocking.
Mauve with embroidered pansies or black
silk with insertions of lace and jet, ad neg
lige stockings withstri; es i u.iniug obliquely
across, ar.d last aud least, for slender limbs
longitudinal stripes with embroiderei
flowers iu very small figures.
Marriage is no laughing matter, and yet
there are so many things connected with it
that it often seems to us as if we spent half
our time laughing at those about to marry,
or those who are married, or those who
can’t get married. In fact, we laugh no
matter what your relation to the married
state may be; wo always have laughed aud
1 suppose wo always will.
According to the New York Sun the fol
lowing contains the cream ot the latest
fashion fads: i.ace and silk embroidery will
presently repla e the gaudy jeweled passe
menteries and tiusels now ths delight of the
feminine soul
Remember, it is the very latest to wear
three or four bracelets, not as bangles, but
fitting closely to the wrist.
The wallet in anew form, or old ono
revived from the days of our great-grand
fathers, is now affected by the swagger
girl.
Sloeves for rich gowns are of Imported
crop n, in soft yellow, beaded with dark
garnet beads, gray blue, with copper.
The most fashionable garment of the
season is the long caoe tr “camail,” per
fectly square at the bottom, reaching oou
iiderably below tbe waist, high on the
shoulders, and studded with jet eabuchons.
Flounces placed ot the foot of a skirt
should be narrow In front and wide at tho
back, in order to not detract from the
height of the wearer. Ruffled pipings are a
new form of decoration, effictive in silk.
The empire petticoat is an indis|>entab!B
accompaniment of the tea gown. It is made
all in one, with a square neck gathered in
with pale baby ribbons, and is confined at
tho waist only by a ribbon belt. The sleeve
is a lace ruffle or two lace ruffles shirred on
the ribbon, and the effect is so dainty and
charming that it seems unkind to cover it
with the gown.
The new bridesmaid’s present is the luoky
slipper brooch, made of gold, with a true
lover’s knot in jewels on the toe and red
enameled heels. The pin is inclosed in a
case, made also in the shape of a shoe. An
other gift, dear to the heart of the maid of
honor, is a case of lace pins, consisting
usually of half a dozen of the convenient
little ornaments, each set with a different
colored stone.
The grotesque relgna in jewelry now. A
gigantic spider Is the approved ornament
for tbe hair, and has a vollew sapphire body
with diamond legs. Lizards and serpents,
blazing with diamonds and emeralds, nestle
in the folds of my lady’s dress or sparkle
against her fair flesh in hideous gorgeous
ness.
Hero is a suggestion fo a tea gown which
would make a plain woman loo* ha idsome
and a haudsom* woman seem an hour!. The
material Is strawberry pink crepon. and the
gown has a trellis-work yoke of gold aud
pink passementerie. Broad fl ppy frills of
oriffou turn down from tbs open neck and
back from the flow! ,g sloeves, and a heavv
Cle patre girdia confines tbs tub'ess at the
waist, from tbs waist, from below which
the skirt fall open to reveal a petticoat of
lace and lawn,
Tbe dainty figured undergarments, in
fin, it linen lawn and cambric, with little
frills embroidered in tbe color of the fl cures,
are the favorite wear of the true Paris
ionnec English ladies wear even the fair
white linen, delicate m material and ei
auisiteiy wrought by hand. Ante icau un
<i-rwear counters now are heaped with
silken robes of all colors, and the people of
the upper 10,000 an t ladies of the demi
monde jostle together iu purchasing them.
The favorite blooms for bonnets are single
hyacinths in pearl gray or lnvender. pale
yellow primro-es and lilies of the valley ar
ranged m light aigrettes. Cowslips and
mimosa, too, are seen, and Mercury’s wings
point backward from embroidered toques.
Crepon is without exception the favorite
material for young ladies’ summer dresses,
mohair in pin stripes for traveling gowns,
ami ohiffon for evening wear. Bengaline is
the favorite heavy silk, and Chi 1a silk still
holds its place as favorite for warm days.
IN THE DRY SEASON.
ttriklng Picture of an Australian
Ranch in Hot Weather.
From Warper's Weekly
A traveler draws near a station home
stead. His feeble horse pulls itself to
gs her for another effort, and whinnies as
from the homestead he sees a solitary
hromble in a paddock jest ahead. At the
right hand is a water-tank -a great hole
dug in the ground—filled eighteen mouths
ag >by rain. Hundreds of siioep lie dead
and dying arouud it, and thousands
stench the plains. The sheep have either
died in reach.ng the tank, or, getting to it,
have plunged in and have then perished,
too weak to get up the hank agaiu. Pha
lanxes of sated crows stand in hue upon the
bank, a black and meuacing barricade, ami
kites and magpies hover overhead.
The traveler has passed empty wells, and
has shuddered at the tales told him in tome
shepherd's hut whero he sought shelter. Ho
rears the homestead; ha dismounts, and ea -
ters the garden, kept alive by a woman's
hand till water ran low; then she forsook it
sadly, this one touch of hnr past now with
ered and dead. Is there no one here! Is it,
too, a scene of tragedy, with human viotims I
No; and yet tragedy, too. To a sharp
“Coo-e-e,” there oomes an answering calf,
and the mauager appears at the door, a
bearded, gruff, but kindly soul, and over
his shoulder peers tbe face of a woman, sad
and drawn. The great exhaust pipes of
nature in that burning land soon take tbe
bloom from the cheek and the light from
the eye. A shake of the hand, a "my
word" of apostropbio welcome, and the
traveler says: “How goes the unlucky
game?”
\Vith a swift sigh of relief and a sudden
uplifting of the aims comes the reply: “The
last lamb is dead. Thank God, tout's off
my mind!” And then he said, “Come out
and see how things look.” Outside ho
added: “We were jnst going to plant a
Sundowner when you coo-e-ed. Didn’t
want to say anything about it before the
missus.” Then he told tho oft-repeated
record of a wanderer creeping to the very
threshold of safety and then dying, his
hand upon the gate of that littio withered
ga.den.
By the grave thoy stand, the manager
with a Bible in his hand, a book rarely
used by him perhapr, but reverenced after
his fashion and neo ssary now. He wishes
the traveler to “do it over the cold ’un,"
but the traveler declines. With coarse
fingers blundering through the leaves in an
uncertain kind of way, the manager began
to read at random from Ecclesiastes. A
half dozeu verses gruffly fall, and then the
words come:
“For wnat hath man of all his labor, and
of the vexation of his heart, wherein he
hath labored under the sun.
“Forall his dttjs are borrows, and his
travail ; ya, his heart tasnth not rest
in the night, this is also vanity.”
Then he closed the book and said: “Well,
he was a goner afore he was a comer, and I
don’t know as there’* need to pitch a long
yarn. He hadn’t much for his labor under
the sun, and a hot sun it is up here at 110*
degrees in the shade. He came a long way
over trie country rock. He hadn’t a drop
in his water bottle, nor a bit of damper in
his swag. He’d got his lingers on the slip
rails and was within 00-e-eof drink and
tucker wiien he wont out sudden to the
Never-nover Laud and went it alone. He
couldn't have had much vanity, not witli
them features; but, my word! the Lord
knows ail about that. I hope if he gets as
near to the homestoad gate up there as he
did down here lost night, though be isn’t
very lit, one of the hands will see
him aud open it and let him in, even
if it has to be on the sly. It was at
night lie got here, ami in the morning we
found him; it’s at night we cover him, and
rest or no rest, he’ll not have to work in the
morning. There isn't a place that’s hotter
than here, and this one ain’t sent to that
quod for punishment. Let him down easy
and slow. * * Drop in his ahlralee
and water bag by him. * * That’s
right. Scatter some sandal leaves ovor his
face. * * Now scrape in the coun
try sand. * * The dingoes can’t
touch him there. * * What’s that
you've put op the board, Jim? ‘A Bun
downer; Gone.’ And God forgive him,
wherever lie’s gone. * * ’ln the
midst of lifo we are in death.’ Amen.’’
And auother of-several such tragedies 'hat
that the traveler saw was hidden away, a
nameless refugee of misfortune in u name
less grave.
And now it is midnight, and the manager
aud the traveler, with pipes aglow, sit and
blow a way dark asiticipaiions. Before the
wife had slipped away she had said, in re
sponse to tho manager’s don bin of their
l*ing able to bold out for a week longer, to
this announcement that Shady Jack’s well
was done and that the Frenchman’s tank
was empty, “Hope for tho host.” And the
manager, through a cloud of smoke,replied,
“My oath! but the best things never come
off.” To this the wife replied, “Yos, Dick;
but tho worst things never come off.”
Night after night this man bad walked this
room, alternating between prayers aud
curses, ns each day’s record was another
thousand sheep gone, another empty well,
until at last he came to this apathetic en
durance, to the grim courage of despair.
“I shouldn’t care so much,” ho said, "hut
then my wife, my girls, in there." He drew
his sleeve roughly across his eyes and bowed
his bead on the table. For ten minutes he
eat there so. Then the traveler saw him
raise his head, start, spring to his feet,
listen with strained, inquiring eyes. What
was that? Bometbing singed on the corru
gated roof above us. “Ham! ram! rain!”
he cried, as he rushed outdoors and fell on
his knees, with his hands stretched out
toward the gathered sky. “Thank God!
thank God! Wife! girls! Mary! rain!”
The floodgates of the sky were opened,
nnd ore the morning came the traveler was
helping to put up a dyke oa one side of
the house. And tie march of destruction
was stayed.
Walter Bridges, Athens, Tenn., writes:
“For six years I had been afflicted with
running sores and an enlargement of the
bone in my leg. I tried everything I heard
of without any permanent benefit until
Botanic| Biood Balm was recommended to
me. After using six bottles the sores healed,
and I am now In better health than ] have
ever been. I send this testimonial unsolic
ited, because I want others to be benefited.
—Ad.
Friendship rings at Sternberg’s.—Ad.
fie nobby. Buy our 09c. gents’ vests, re
duced from II SU. Kohler's, 158 Broughton.
—Ad.
It la Tima to Think
Of summer coolers. B. H. Levy & Bro.
have the largest lines of negligee shirts ever
opened in Savannah in silks and all outing
fabrics. See those lovely white and colored
puff besom shirts. Very stylish, and as
cool as cucumbers.—Ad.
The “Tiffany*" of Savannah—Stern
bergs.— Ad.
MEDICAL
mdm
X X nyIUIGE
the
DLANTA BEATRICE
| removes Modi and Liver Spots,
prevents Konhorn nnd Tan. re
stores tlie rolor and youthful softness
t* the skin, and keeps It perfect In
any climate. Price 91.45, post-paid.
ROBBRT a BCCLKS, M 0.,)
a k 191 l>e*n Street.
BaooKXYN, Jan. 28, 1891 )
Lon dm Toilet P/uar Oo.:
Ccntlstnen—The formnla of Plants Beatrice
having been submitted to me, I am free to er.y
that it is an excellent and perfectly harmless one.
and so free from anything of a poisonous nature
that such a combination might he swallowed
without injury. I can see no reason why it should
not accomplish what you claim for It.
R. <l. KCCLEB.
FLESH-WORM PASTE ‘•BLESSED
PASTE " by Shirley I)are| refines nnd
makes smooth a rough, porous skin,
entirely removes Flesh-Worm* (Black
Heads); a positive cure for I’lmplss and
Eruptions. Price SI.BO, pout-pulil.
Gentlemen—Ton having snhmltted the formula
of Flesh Worm Pasto and Pimplo Hemovrrtomc,
I can conscientiously recommend it as hclng a
Shod combination, and containing only such remc
ies as will benefit those requiring i*.
Of the number of toilet nrticles that have come
before my notios. and that are intended for the
*me uses as Plants Rcatrice sod Flesh Worm
I’sete. the submitted formulas show yours to be
the only ones whose compositions arc quite
harmless. U. ti- ECCLJfiS.
These are the most remarkable prep
arations of the age. Every applica
tion will Improve your complexion.
For sale by all Healers In Toilet Ar
ticles. Manufactured solely by
LONDON TOILET BAZAR C 0. f
*0 E. 17th NT., NEW YORK, U. R. A.
For wile in Savannah by
L. C. STRONG, cor. Bull anil Perry street*
SOLOMONS A CO., cor. Barnard and Ogiikroan
streets.
REIl) & 00., cor. Jones and Abercorn streeta.
R. A. ROVVIJNSKI, cor. Broughton and Dray
ton utreets.
1.1 PI’M AN BROS., Wholesale Agents.
- ■■■■■■■ 1
MAN IT ART PLU M BI Nt,
The Destruction of
Pompeii
Is nothing compared to the
destruction of health by im
perfect plumbing.
\Ve have tho most perfect
appliances for testing pipes
and sewers, and the best of
workmen for correcting any
evil.
You must say that our
work is done to your entire
satisfaction before we will ac
cept anything for it.
Try us, and if you are not
satisfied it will not cost you
anything.
SAVANNAH PLUMBING CO.,
150 Broughton Street
HUTEUs.
THE
DE SOTO,
SAVANNAH, GA
One of the moat elegantly appointed hotel*
in the world.
Accomodations tor 500
Gruests.
OPF.N ALL YEAR.
WATSON & POWERS.
THE marshall;
By r6q:;it of mv numerous patron* I will
from this data on conduct
THE MARSHALL
on both tho American and European method*.
RATES: *0 and upward por day.
EUROPEAN RATES. Room* 60 cent*, ?fl
cents, $1 00 per person.
EL N. FISH, Proprietor.
PULASKI HOUSE,
SAVANNAH, GA,
\ . _'e '.'Of I*
Man*gm*nt strictly flnt-clan.
Situated In the burin uu center,
PUBLICATIONS.
FASHION BOOKS FOR MAY
AT
ESTILLS NEWS DEPOT,
21W BULL STREET. Price.
L'Art dn la Mode 35c
Ktvue de la Mode . 35c
La Mode de Purls 35c
Album of Modes 35c
Le Bou Ton. 35c
The Season 35e
Youog Ladies’ Journal 30c
Demorest Po tlolio of the Fashions and
What to Wear for Spring and Summer, 1891.25 c
Butterick’a Fashion Quarterly for Spring
and Summer, 1891 25c
Godey's lady's Book. 25:
Demorest's Fashion Magazine 20c
Peterson's Magazine 25a
New York and Paris YouDg Ladies' l ashion
Bazir 25c
The Delineator 15c
Tho ladies,' Horne Journal !Oo
Harper's Bazar. l®e
Mine. Demurest Monthly Fashion Journal 10c
Address all orders to
WILLIAM r.STILL. Savannah, Ga.
MERCHANTS, manufacturers, m era bailee.
corporation*, and aii oUisrs In need of
nnnliug, lithographing, and blank boAs oa*
bare Umu ordars promptly Oiled, al moZUrae*
arms, alike M'IHNINU bkWO nuMtXM
A. R. ALTMAVER As CO.
STORE CLOSES 6 P. mT ~
SATURDAYS EXCEPTED.
THURSDAY AND FRIDAY BARGAIN DA V S.
MilfS
Special Birgaie \MI
50 pieces of Batiste, black, grained with fancy
yard""* ro *' lijir rhlna ***** patterns), at Vie per
95 piece* 45-inch Cashmere, In all the new col
onngs, price 150 per yard.
20 pieces 36 and tO inoh wide fancy Dress
Goods in plaids, stripes and checks; regular
price SOo and Sse; for this week, Cvyc per yard.
The balance of our better grades in fancy
strip-a plai.la, checks, etc., that were 75c and
85c, will go this week at 4?jic per yard.
Great Reductions In
Comb nztlon Suita in checks, stripes braided
and plaiu (all this season's good*) at $1 95 for
price*2 ,orm,r PrW
Bargains in Silks.
China Silk in solid and fancy figures, 35c yard,
down from SOo.
China Silks, fancy and solid colors, 49e. down
from 75c.
81 (V) China Silks reduced for this week to
56c, elegant value.
i
Grenadines.
Block Silk Grenadines at 75c.
Black Sewing Bilk Grenadines at 81 srt and
upward
Fancy Brocade Grenadine* at tl 25 and utv
ward.
Domestic Department.
One yard wide Bleached Shirting, free from
starch, at $5Qe, worth B^c.
I, medaie Bleached Shirting, one yard wide.
Double width Unbleached Sheeting, the rern.
lar 3>o goods, down this week to isjjc per yard,
I .ace Scrim, one yard wide, 40. ■ ...
Crash Toweling Ho.
Lawns.
White Lawn, 1r per yard.
White lawn, nheer, 5c per yi
White IzAwn, special value, BVno per yard.
y i
Colored Lawns, 31-2 c.
White striped and cheokad Lawn Be.
White striped and checked Lawn, * north!
price, -
Rlaok striped end checked Lawn, special
price, 10c.
Ginghams.
Dress Ginghams dige. worth 10c, > ; .
Dress Ginghams 18c, worth 25c. ’!
if
Hosiery Department
Misses’ fast black ribbed Hoee, 19c, fully worth
Infants' \i and H Hose, In white, solid color*,
black nnd tsney striped, price 12*40 and 19c.
dowu from 250 and 35c.
Ladies’ Fast Black Hose, 25c.
Lot of Ladlee'flne Lisle Throad and Cotton
Hose, odds and ends In tans, grays, pinks,
blues and black, regular price 50c and 50c, down
this week to *B<\
Ladles’ fast black Lisle Thread Hoee at lie,
positively worth BOc.
Special.
Lot of fancy Windfor Ties, with llk ring,
just the thing for todies' blouse; and shirt
waists, price sc; tho ring alone is worth It.
Boys’ Clothing
Overstocked, s
HOW WE PROPOSE TO UNLOAD.
A Boy s Suit, from 4 to 18 years of age, for 89cfc
this suit j'ou can keep homo S days, and if yon
think it is uot worth 81 50 return tfie suit end
we will refund you your money.
A strong Suit for a boy for 750; this Suit is
really worth 81 26.
We are selling a Boys’ Butt for Sf 66 that vow
cannot duplicate for $ i 00: we cordially Invite
you to inspect thN Special Bargain.
Our 82 0) Suits are exactly the same as you
pay SBOO for in other stores.
You cau buy a handsome Bult, equal to taitnr
made, for $3 and $3 Ml, the euita ore mode from
good, reliable woolen fabrics and are guaran
teed to give more tlien satisfaction.
We have a Sailor Suit for 50c, the material i*
worth SIOO, save work for making and trim
ming.
For $1 00 you can buy a Kilt Suit, that tna
actual value is tl 76; this is one of our special
offerings. - •
Boys’ Knee Pants, 15c.‘ .
A bettor quality Knee Pants at 35c; tlnflw
examine our better grades at 50c, Tic and tl 00l
We give a Hat, Jacket and two pairs o{
I’ants, nil wool, for 84 98: this is our combina
tion suit; actual valueß4.
A carload of Boys’ Straw Hat* from 150
upward.
Millinery. 1*
Notwithstanding the fact
that the season is far ad
vanced we are still kept very,
busy designing beautiful lit
tle Toques aud medium-sized
round Hats, formed of Fancy
Straws and crepe-de-chene,
and many floral combinations-.
We cordially invite our pa
trons to step in and examine
our stock before purchasing
your Summer Hats to wear
with pretty Ginghams, and
light summer costumes, and
also to take advantage of our
latest Straw Goods, Flower
Wreaths and Sprays reduced
to half price. /
iiffitns
STORE CLOSES OP.M.
SATURDAYS EXCEPTED.
THURSDAY AND FRIDAY BABOAJS DATS
11
