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HATS AND GOWNS FOG THEATER.
Soft, Pale Gray Camel’s Hair Looks Like
Spun Silver Under the Gaslight.
p rrnnu in n.<t Coral—This Becoming .Irorlrv Hrilifil and 11 a Color
Copied In Veliet and Silk—Gay Rod Ire and I’lnin Skirt—The
Theater Hat I* Ver, Small Gtctpl for the Gignn- a
tic Bird of I’aradiae at side.
Copyright. 1*97
T'irtf, Jan. 7—Mme. Bernhardt has
t-*-oreri a triumphant success this week In
Alfred de Musset s drama, "I. r. r.zacci ).
It Is the first time that Bernhardt has ever
impersonated a male role, and at fifty
four to venture on the new role with such
test and to achieve such unbounded suc
cess in it makes one wonder at her super
human energy.
Her dexterity with her sword In the fenc
ing scene during the third act always
brings a ring of applause from
the audience. But the wonder of it
all I? when she explains to a reporter that
she has only practiced fencing during the
past month and then just after she has
played the exhausting role of "La
Dame Aux Camille,'' her fencing lessons
with her son Maurice have taken place.
\ V
•THERE ARB BEAUTIFULLY ATPO! NTKD DRESSING-ROOMS WHERE EVERY WOMAN REMOVES HAT—WITH BIRD OF TAR AD IS E-AN I) WRAP.’’
Before the doors of the Renaissance
theater are open the big green placard Is
put out which announces that there are no
more places to be had for the evening.
One must buy tickets for ‘'Lorenzacclo"
• head of time. Probably all this great
ieteing of Bernhardt on her birthday this
week has had a great deal to do with It,
but It Is simply marvelous to see the
crowds that are turned away each evening
from the Renaissance theater for lack of
standing room.
Royalty and the smart English and
American set are very much In evidence
in the boxes. The beautiful young Count
ess Potocka I saw in a lovely gown of soil,
gray camel's hair. It was simplicity it
self and yet no other gown in the house
attracted one-half so much attentlrn.
The cloth was of the palest shade of
gray. The shade that both blondes and
brunettes wear to advantage. And it
suited remarkably the young countess'
rare type of beauty. The freshness of her
•kin and the rich color of her dark hair
wore wonderfully brought out by the color
*f her gown.
The skirt was a godet of rut her exagge
rated width, but there was not a particle
of stiffening In It. and It fell In loose cling
ing folds at the bottom. The bodice was
of the camel's hair, made perfectly plain
and fastening at the shoulder and under
arm seam. There was a long, square
yoke of embroidered white chifTon edged
'with a full ruffle that reached to the top
of the high girdle. The girdle was of a
paler shade of gray satin ribbon that one
mistook at first for white. It was wound
twice around the waist and at the left side
there was u long, stiff b w with one loop
and two pointed ends.
The sleeves were draped from the wrist
and at the top of the sleeve the fulness
was stiffened to stand high. At the wrist
tUeto was a lull trill oi ibc chiffon that
fell nearly to the flr.cer tips. T.:>- collar
was a high crush collar of the pale gray
satin ribbon mounted by a fali of the
white chiffon.
The becoming little bonnet that the
countess wore with this gown was of white
mirror velvet. The crown was beretta
Embroidered in pear.s. The narrow brim
was of shirred velvet, and following the
crown was .1 wroth of pah .veil w velvet
roses.
So many of the prettier gowns I saw at
the theater w . re of pale gray or pale tan,
and all of them were fashioned i xcedingly
simple.
A bewitching little French debutante
with a bright color and a big puff of fluffy
black ha.r wore the dearest little gown of
white faille silk with a narrow strip ol
coral running through it. The skirt was
a flaring godet. close fitting at the hips.
Narrow ruffles of white chiffon were sew
ed on the skirt to form n short draped
apron, and at the back the ruffles follow
ed the straight lines of the skirt to the
bottom. The bodice was plain with a
tichu of cream chiffon that crossed at the
front and was caught down to the front of
the belt with two coral mirror velvet bows.
The edge of the fichu was finished with <i
double ruffle of chiffon embroidered in a
running vine of coral cypress with its
feathery leaves in pale green silk. The
slot ves were tight-fitting for quite a dis
tance above the elbow, and they were
mounted by tiny ruffles of the silk that
were put on lengthwise. Coral mirror vel
vet was used for the girdle and crush col
lar.
The hat was a round hat of black vel
vet with an entre deux of cream Brussels
lace. It had a band of small coral velvet
rosettes, and at the left side of the crown
there were at least a half dozen bla< k
feathers that nodded about In every direc
tion.
When one goes to a couturiere here for
a theater gown they are sure to be advised
to get an elaborate corsage to be worn
with the ordinary black satin or moire
skirt. Skirts play such a small part in
theater toilets, and then, too, It's rather
absurd to expect to keep a light silk skirt
pussably clean in the dust of theater
floors.
So many of the rorsage* I saw were of
white chiffon with higu stock collars of
hl.uk velvet and straw buckles. These
were worn with black velvet or black
satin skirts, with no lilt of color Introduced
so that It might he strictly one of the up
to-dute chic bluck and white toilets thut
the couturleres here are so fond of fash
ioning.
There were two or three such smart lit
tie hats of black velvet with white birds
of Paradise as the only trimming Ip Uie
audience. 1 thought how simple and yet
In what taste. My admiration took the
form of desire that night.
So, bright and early next morning, 1 took
myself to a very unpretentious little shop
on Boulevard Uautsaian. There in Hie
THE MORNING NEWS: SUNDAY, JANUARY 17, 1897.
window was a modest-looking little hat
of black beaver, amazon in shape, with a
-quared off crown with Just one bird cf
Paradise in white on the left sfde.
I was more sure of it fitting my purse
than my head when I went in. But when
I wap told the price was U 8 francs (about
J24>. it didn’t suit In any particular. It
wasn’t at all the thing 1 was looking for.
1 thought of my own clever little modiste
who makes such dainty little capotes from
any price upward. She could make the
velvet hat. and perhaps-1 should buy the
w hite bird of Paradise at the shop. So I
asked to be shown the birds. They had
ori,v a few. rangingffrom 40 to 65 francs,
which didn't do at all. Now. when I see
a modest-looking black velvet toque with
a h,rd of Paradise, my first thought is of
the fortune it represents. Then my en
vioasn- -s takes on a Christian spirited
desire for calculating how many widows
and orphans could be fed for how many
days on the money so ruthlessly squand
ered.
All this is to show the absolute fad that
now ranges for the bird of Paradise. Next
season, the modiste says, the Paradise
songsters will still he higher, and so on to
the end of the century. In ISO*} we shall
have wills bequeathing “my bird of Para
dise'’ to a pet relative “and her heirs for
ever.”
Theater hats are not small enough, but
there are beautifully appointed dressing
■ rooms, presided over hy an attendant
' where every woman removes her hat and
wrap. Fashions in theater hats are small
always, for It Is bad form to wear a big
hat, but nt the same time the hat, unless
it be a tiny one—or a priceless bird of
Paradise—is to be removed. People will
not pay Bernhardt prices to look at the
tear feathers of even the most picturesque
bird.
The ]ouls “cans” waist for the theater
is very popular. Its broad lapels turn
back from a fancy vest, standing out stiff
and elegant. The vest is soft chiffon of
changeable possibilities, so that with one
Louis Qulnze of black velvet and ten vests
of different colors a woman can have ten
theater changes. Nina Goodwin.
CHASKU HY AN ALLIGATOR.
Terrible Experience of a Young
Clergyman lu Louisiana.
From the Philadelphia Times.
Miles Point, La.—Tilts place was the
picture of animation on Wednesday even
ing in happy anticipation of the wedding
of Etta Whitmore and Jack Harvey, two
of the best known and most popular young
people In this town. Another fact which
added Interest to the affair was that the
benedict was the much-loved pastor of
the Baptist persuasion. In view of this
it was only natural that the whole, place
and surrounding country wanted to and
did lend a hand In not only assisting In
the decorations, but In bringing such use
lul presents that the couple were fitted
up for housekeeping In Its entirety, and
had groceries enough added to last them
'months.
The hour set for the marriage was 9
o'clock, hut tunny as It may seem many
guests fearing to be late began to arrtvo
early in the afternoon. Of course, the
whole country was Invited, so for a time
there seemed to be no end to the long
stream of people coming through the big
gale towards the bride's home, which was
then the prettiest and brightest spot any
where to he seen. Inasmuch as fully two
thousand Japanese lanterns nigt torch
lights Illuminated the whole house and
pau to the church.
The old minister at Burnside, the next
tow n, was to officiate, but he was as much
too late as were a good number of the
guests too early. So while the latter
caused only a little mirth, the former
aroused a great deal of disconfiture among
all, most especially within the two con
tracting parties. So that when 10 o'clock
came without the minister's appearance
there was consternation depicted over the
faces of everyonq. Oe.y tnose who have
had a similar experleffce can imagine the
bridegroom's state of mind. Unable to
endure longer the great suspense he slip
ped away unseen except by one or two
who were p.edged no', to brealhe it to the
bride-to-be, mounted his wheel and started
rapidly down the neatest cut to Burnside
on a voyage of discovery as to the cause
of Brother Henderson's failure to mater
ialize. The distance was not to be ac
complished in less than’an hour and a half
when the road was in the best possible
condition, and as it was then no one ex
pected his return before midnight at least.
So in the meanwhile there was nothing for
the anxious guests to do except wait, and
this they did, although too patiently
until after 12 o'clock.
By this time, as the old minister had
not yet arrived, nor sent any message and
Jack Harvey had not returned it wis
known something was wrong. Just what
it was mystified every one, and so in
tensely that the men felt it their duty to
be up and doing, and forthwith they were.
There are two roads u hich lead from Miles
Point to Burnside, one, the main street,
and usually the chosen one, the other a
side path through the woods, therefore
very rough and hard to follow, and only
j resorted to occasionally when time v. as
the chief object. About two dozen men
divided up and started down the two
routes to Burnside.
When the first party got about half
way down the mountain road to Burn
side they saw Parson Henderson, and In
such a predicament that it aroused con
siderable mirth within the spectators, al
though the parson himself Is still at a
loss to know what was funny about It, as
It appeared to him, apd would have '.o
any one else under like circumstances,
as very serious. He was sitting upon nls
horse waiting, hoping, praying for help,
and had been since 8 o'clock in tne even
ing. To avoid the mud in one particular
ly bad place in the street he turned aside
and was riding over a marshy part of
what appeared a side path. When his
horse suddenly stopped and refused to
take another step. At first he thought
he was tn a bog, but ere many minutes
he knew that by the way his horse went
down that they were In quicksand.
110 without mercy used jvhlP and spur,
but without avail, for the animal could
not, owing to the great suction of the
mud, pull himself out, much less retrace
his steps. Seeing that his horse contin
ued to sink down, and not knowing the
depth, he did not dare leap off und take
the chances of going down almost Imme
diately, and no one coming in sight, left
nothing for either the horie or rider to
do but to atoait their fate. Luckily for
both, however, tha animal only sank to
within a Jew inches of being over his
hack, which fact, with the timely aid,
saved both. For several minutes the men
stood wondering Just what was best to
he done, when the minister suddenly
made It known that they—he and the horse
—were again sinking. This called for ac
tion at once.
But what was to be done? They needed
a rope, but, of course, had none, and
were several miles from where any could
be procured. The men looked about them
wildly, and, seeing twisted, about a tree
I near-by a huge wild vine, they made
haste to cut it down and throw one end
to the Rev. Henderson, who. aficF many
unsuccessful attempts, finally succeeded
in getting It around the horse, after
which he threw the end back to the men
Immediately this was tossed over a strong
iimb of a tree, brought down and made
fast to a projecting root. By this means
both horse and rider were saved from go
ing down until ropes could be gotten from
the nearest store. A sort of pulley ar
rangement of the rope, with the united
strength of the men gradually raised the j
horse and rider until they were almost
upon the surface ef the quicksand. And
by noon on Thursday they were, much to
their joy, once again upon terra firma.
And it may be imagined that the identity
of both were well concealed by the wear
ing of a mud coat. The parson was ex
hausted from the strain upon his enrves,
and it was necessary to take him home at
once for medical treatment, but the horse
seemed none the worse off for his quick
sand bath.
But while this experience had within it
a goodly share of terror. It was not half
so formidable as that of the young min
ister, Jack Harvey, the bridegroom-elect,
who. in speaking of it. said: “I was rid
ing along swiftly, making excellent time,
until about half way to Burnside, when
I reached the worst part of the path.
Here it was dark, full of briars, bull
rushes and decidedly marshy, therefore
no route for a wheel. Nevertheless, I
had Started and determined not to give
up until I reached Burnside. But man
proposes—well, you know the rest. While
speeding over or through the boggy
places, bouncing up and down and nearly
being thrown off as I came in contact
with the hard roots of underbrush, I ran
over something, the movement of whose
body threw me off my wheel several feet
forward.
"Being unhurt. I raised up quickly and
retraced a few stpps to see, if possible,
what it was. But scarcely had I done so
when my mistake was realized by my life
suddenly becoming in jeopardy. Strange
sounds echoed through the air, and, worse
still, the atmosphere was stagnant with
the musk of an alligator. I knew then
what I had done, and what the result
would be. I had run over and doubtless
Injured a young alligator; the did mother
had heard its cry. discovered what was
done, and the letting out of its musk was
proof conclusive of its fury, which in no
way could be quieted until either she had
caught and killed me or I killed her. That
she would prove the victor was quite pos
sible, as I was unarmed, and no man can
equal them in tleetness. There was but
one thing to be done, and that was Hy for
my life, and this X did. But in a few min
utes X was chased, and like mad, by this
infuriated thing. The muddy water
splashed, the rushes rustled and cracked,
and ere I had gotten scarcely any distance
shq was upon me. There was no riding a
wheel then; no time to think, or do any
thing except fight for my life. And this
was done. The wheel was kept in front
of me, used as a shield, and protected me
until it was clutched In the thing’s Jaws
and torn away from me. Fortunately the
rubber on the bicycle tangled for a min
ute the alligator’s teeth.
“So, taking advantage of that, I did the
only thing there was for me to do—took to
my heels towards the nearest tree, which
I began to climb. The alligator was at
my feet in a twinkling and, rearing up,
made a dash at my leg and gouged a
piece out of it before I could tear it
away. The pain was excruciating, and it
was only with the greatest difficulty that
I finally manged to olimb above the reach
of the mad beast, w r ho, seeing her failure
to kill me, stood guard at the base of the
tree to see that I made no escape.”
And thus the young minister was found.
The men took in his terrible situation at a
glance and realized that there was some
work ahead of them. The only firearms
in their possession were two revolvers,
the effect of which were little more than
toy pistols upon the knotty head and
body of the alligator. Preparing them
selves for the bloody conflict by collect
ing each a stout hickory stick, they emp
tied each revolver, fourteen shots in all,
at the thing s body, but not a bullet took
effect. The alligator lashed her tail and
dashed at the twelve men as though de
termined to devour all at the same time.
And .they, throwing down the pistols,
grabbed the sticks, dodged, fought, slash
ed and battered away for fully two hours
before they felt in the least rewarded.
By this time they were almost exhaust
ed, and. happily so, was the alligator. A
few more hard licks and its head was
crushed in, which blinded her so that the
men had but little trouble in killing her.
The alligator is the largest and was the
most ferocious ever seen in this part of
the state, measuring seventeen and a half
feet from tip to tip. The battle was the
most bloody and dangerous ever experi
enced here, and that they escaped is noth
ing less than a miracle.
Jack Harvey was taken home, where he
is still suffering from his wounds, from
which hopes are entertained for his re
covery, but not for several weeks yet.
The bride-elect is suffering from the
nervous shock brought about by the nar
row escape and illness of her lover.
The guests, weary after their long wait,
excited and disappointed, have at last re
turned to their respective homes. And
the marriage is indefinitely postponed.
And thus endeth for a time that which
would have been one of the prettiest wed
ding ever celebrated in this section of the
country.
TIIE UTILITY OF PAIN.
____________
| The Best of Reasons Why l’mn
Should Accompany Illness anil In
jury.
From the Literary Digest.
The statement of Dr. S. Weir Mitchell,
in his address on "The Birth and Death
of Pain,” at the recent Boston celebration
of the semi-centennial of anaesthesia,
that the purpose of pain Is “a riddle to
which earth can give no answer,” is called
in question hy the editor of the Hospital
in a leading article (Dec. 5). For the ed
itor the use of pain, far from being a rid
dle, is so clear that he who runs may read.
Pain is to the ordinary man a warning of
danger. Says the editorial to which we
refer:
“Here is a man with a painful, broken
arm. Does the pain serve any special
purpose, any purpose which might not as
well have been served without it? Most
assuredly it does. But for the pain the
average man—not, perhaps, the scientific
man, but the average man—would not pay
heed to his Injury; would not, in fact, de
vote the necessary time and trouble to
its perfect repair. We have to consider
what my average man is for the purposes
of this dlscqssion. He is not (he average
modern American, or modern European,
tinctured with all the culture, all the
science, all the high morality of the mod
ern world. He Is the typical person of
no education, who has made up the gen
erations of men from the earnest times
when mankind emerged from the practi
cally brute condition into dawning moral
consciousness. That Is the average man
to be considered when we ask what may
be the purpose of pain. Has pain had a
purpose of any kind for all those count
less generations of the uncultured past
who have constituted the solid mass of
mankind? Most assuredly It has had a
purpose—many purposes. It has compelled
attention to Injured structures; it has en
forced rest and sleep by the distress of
weariness; the taking of rood by the tor
tures of hunger; and. in short, has been
the general Indicator and corrector for
man and beast In the exercise of physi
cal and physiological energy of every kind.
Not on.y so, but the moralist and the re
ligious teacher will unite In insisting that
the educational value o' pain In the regions
of morals and religion ' as been and con
tinues to be Incalculable flo far from
agreeing with Dr. Weir Mitchell that pain
THE CENUINE^-^^^
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has no purpose in the world, we affirm that
one of the most obvious of all the facts
connected with pain in Its definite and in
calcuable value, as an indicator, corrector,
educational force, alike in physical, men
tal and moral spheres."
This being so, an objector may say why
Interfere with pain at all? This stand
was actually taken by many who held, at
the time of the introduction of anaesthe
tics, that to use them was to fly in the
face of the Almighty. But the Hospital
points out that such a course w’ould be !
quite illogical. It says;
“That which is esential for one period of i
human development may not be essential !
for another. The sharp' physical stimuli, !
the clubs and spears of the early savage, j
are not needed by the later races of men, i
in earlier times hunger, thirst, fear of
wounds from enemies, the most elemen
tary of all sensations, were needed to
compel even the highest races of men to j
do the best that was in them. In our j
times there are millions who work in j
obedience to motives altogether different
from the driving forces of hunger, cold,
and physical fear. Ambition compels ex
ertion, duty, mere lovo of work. And so
the element of painfulness, being less and
less needed, plays a less and less conspic
uous part as a driving and correcting
force in the world. Will pain, or the ‘pos
sibility of pain, ever be eliminated from
the experience of man, or ‘killed,’ as Dr.
Weir Mitchell might prefer to' put it?
Most probably not, so long as Vnan is en
dowed with his present nervous system.
But it is possible, nay, it is quite easy, to j
imagine a time when mankind in general
shall have reached such a stage of men
tal capacit? and culture, such a wide and
masterful victory over nature, such a de
gree of physical vigor and material pros- i
perity, that pain shall be a very excep
tional fact in his experience. This is the
goal at which a philosophical medical
science must at any rate aim, with all the
energy of which it is capable.’’
EIGHT GREAT STEAMSHIPS
Building For German Lines—They
Will Be the Largest in Existence.
From the Pittsburg Dispatch.
Eight immense steamships of which the ;
Kaiser Wilhelm der Grosse is the biggest, i
and each capable of carrying more passen- 1
gers and cargo than the famous Great
Eastern, are now under construction in
German shipyards for service between
New York and Europe.
Two of these new steamers are consid
erably longer than the great Pennsylvan
ia, of 20,000 tons, recently launched at Bel
fast. The Great Eastern was longer, wid
er and deeper than the new marine giants,
but external lengths do not represent the
size of a vessel’s capacity. Shipping peo
ple the world over measure vessels by
their carrying capaeity.The modern ship
builder Is able to construct a vessel smal
ler than the Great Eastern, but one that
will be a greater carrier.
The Great Eastern was built to carry
20,000 tons of cargo and 1,000 passengers,
or 5,000 passengers and no cargo. Some of
the new leviathans will not only carry
20,000 tons of cargo, but from 1,500 to 2,000
passengers also.
If the coming queens of the sea were to
carry troops only, about 10,000 men could
be accommodated on each.
When the length of these vessels is stat
ed in figures they do not convey an ade
quate idea of the ships. If the Kaiser Wil
helm der Grosse could be stood on end
among the sky-scrapers of lower New
York, it would tower 340 feet above the
tallest building in the metropolis.
To load the Kaiser Wilhelm der Grosse
with a full cargo of grain, the yield from
a wheat field of 40,000 acres would be con
sumed. This enormous amount of grain
would need 1,300 railroad freight curs,
with 650 bushels to a car, making over 60
trains of 20 cars each.
Give the Kaiser Wilhelm der Grosse a
full cargo of soft coal, and 1,000 coal hop
pers, laden #ith twenty tons each, would
be necessary to fill her.
Were she loaded with water she would
carry 5,000,000 gallons. This would be
enough to give two gallons of water to all
the population of Greater New York. She
is also capable of carrying enough food to
give a pound package to over half the pop
ulation of the United States, or, to be ex
act, 44,800,000 pounds of flour, coffee or
meat.
It has been calculated that in these ships
a piece of coal the size of a walnut trill
drive ten barrels of flour one mile. Each
craft will consume from 200 to 300 tons of
coal a day and boil 100 tons of water.
Down in the bowels of the ships will be
found 100 stokers and trimmers, of course
not all working at one time, but in gangs
of twenty-five, feeding twoscore of fur
nace mouths.
The Kaiser Wilhelm der Grosse is the
longest of all. She is to have four funnels
and 28,000 horse-power in her quadruple
| engines. She will be 649 feet in length.
The Kaiser Frederick, 15 feet longer than
the new Pennsylvania, but 49 feet shorter
than the Kaiser Wilhelm der Grosse, will
have three funnels and 24,000 horse-power.
The other four, known as the Barbarossa
class, will have two funnels, and are to
be 14-knot boats, with the exception of the
Bremen, which will be a 15-knot boat.
The Pennsylvania and her sister ship,
building for the Ilamburg-American line,
will have four masts ahd a sing.e funnel
each, the stack being broad enough to
drive an omnibus through It. The steel
structures will be divided by a lion-com
munlcatlng bulkhead running from the
keel to the upper deck. To go from one
j to the other side of the hull It will be ne
cessary for the officers and crew to as-
I cend to the deck.
This arrangement, In addition to a num
[ her of bulkheads, makes the ships almost
unsinkablc, were they to be flooded with
water.
The two engines, with quadruple cylin
ders, occupy separate compartments,
each working Independently of the other.
In addition to 20.01J0 tons of cargo, these
shins will carry 1,500 passengers.
The finest cabins have been arranged
above deck amidships, the second cabin
aft and the steerage passengers on the
main deck and the upper deck amidships.
Above the saloon deck Is an extra deck,
containing the dinning and smoking
rooms.
The Pennsylvania and the Barbarossa
will be the first of the new steamers to
arrive here. They will reach New York
early in the spring. The Kaiser Wilhelm
der Grosse will not appear until some
time later. She Is the longest ship ever
built, with the exception of the Great
Eastern, but Is bigger than the latter In
her capacity for carrying cargo and pas
sengers at a profit. The Kaiser Wilhelm
der Grosso Is a now type, and one which
It Is now expected will have many Imi
tators. The boldnesstand thoroughness
with which such a vessel has been de
signed and built In Germany Have excited
the Jealousy of British shipbuilders, who
sre already predicting that she will be a
failure.
Trapped.
i L,-?:
1— Monk—Ouch, you old wind-mill:
?■-
2 Now, while you’re laughing, I’ll just
spring a
3 surprise on you, and—
a
4 let you out only when you apologize!
DOG MADE HER PRISONER.
A Servant Girl Arrested by s
Newfoundland.
From the Philadelphia Press.
Brooklyn, Jan. 7.—lf It were not for aMf
Newfoundland dog, owned by Frederick
Kupfer, of that portion of Flatbush known
as ParkviUe, 36-year-old Margaret Kugen
would not to-day be an Inmate of Ra>’
mond Street Jail. Margaret Is accused of
grand larceny and was trying to escape,
the police claim, when the dog made her
a prisoner.
On Sunday last Mrs. Kupfer missed F"
from her pocketbook. She thought at tir-t
that she had lost It and that It would M
found somewhere about the house. I* ll
girl shortly after went to her room .m
later on left the house unobserved. Tues
day night, It Is said, she forced an en
trance to the house by a parlor window-
Ab6ut 3 o’clock on Wednesday morn n
Mr. Kupfer was suddenly awakened,
jumped out of bed in time to see Mlss R ‘|
gen walking out of the house withs"
bundles. .
Two hours later he arose to go to '
ness. When he got to the Farkville
road station he found his dog.
standing guard over the missing donv ,|
The girl had been trying to get se\ •
train's hut as each one approacneo. -
slanders declared, the dog would n
to her dress or Jump in her way un.l
cars had rolled by.
-Rudyard Kipling*recently "refused
handsome price for his Vermont faini
Is said that after next year he will ® ;cU,p
ll permanently.