Newspaper Page Text
18
TO DRESS SMALL DAUGHTERS.
AMERICAN STYLES ARK SUPERIOR
TO AlO. OTHERS.
Uaiflip t*U* for nml Receive* Much
Nnliinhle Advice on the Subject of
Rloukc Ilodlee*. nml I,earn* Wliy
('aremliiK Shade* of Rose Color
Should lie Worn by Ileliutnute*.
Method* for Enhancing • •* Ap
parent Slenderne** of the Figure.
A Di*cu**ion as to the Correct t ut
of the Sew Skirl*.
New York, Dee. 22.—"1t would be a
Irt’e charity, in any kind-la arted and ar
tlsticaily-inteUigeiit woman, to give me
her beat advice wlih regard io these eam
pies,” remarked Maisie coaxingiy. as she
laid a half-dozen bits of bright sdk and
cloth and webs of lute on die rotund
front of one of the big divan pillows, amid
which she sot cosily enthroned.
"Anolhtr gown you pretty, extravagant
■WINTER COSTUME FOR HALF
GROWN GIRL.
wretch?” began the hostess, with mock
severity. “I heard you say ”
“Yes, I did say that papa was nearly at
the end of my telher. The dear old hoy
lias been made to spend a shocking amount
this season,” interrupted Maisie, repent
antly. “I am afraid he begins to think
that a successful debutante daughter is a
rather expensive luxury and that he would
have done far better to let me go In for
training as a hospital nurse. However,
now that we have put our hand to this
social plow, 1 warn him there Is nothing
gained by looking back; but this time it
Is not gowns. It's house waists, smart
little blouses of which I am quite shame
fully in need and I have permission to
buy two. They must be chic, anil they
must ho becoming and I've registered a
truly solemn vow that the bill for them
both shan't be of a size to lessen in the
smallest degree papa’s uppetite for his
Christmas turkey.”
A Debutante'* House lllun*v.
“What I really want is a blouse of cloth,
colored cloth, but the style must not bor
der at all on the shift waist. I've dis
covered by very shrewd'investigation that
the smart house blouse for a ’debutante
Is not of silk and not a shirt waist. It is
cloth of a light becoming tint made up
with what I call a dressy effect* and is
worn wiili a dark silk or cloth tailor skirt
In the morning and sometimes in the af
ternoon “when one Is very informally at
home to Just a few dear friends."
“Or, in other words,” explained the hos
tess, squinting one handsome gray eye
at bit of sky blue crepe cloth spread on
her pink palm "When one Is at home
In the bow window with one's best man,
eh! My dear Maisie,” in a motherly
FURS AND COAT FOR A SMALL
DAUGHTER.
"I've oem a debutante myself nnd," pre
tending not to observe tip' warm flush
In ilie cheeks of the girl opposite, "I would
have a biouse of that pink cloth you have
2 u f' I ‘ u ' l <' Ul ' green cushion. Brown
•yed, fair-skinned in n always look tnei r
be* in caressing *h*.|. e „f roe.- „ r bland
azun. and I j usl -ljr £
ymi?* k, ’ U '' ,0f **'*'" ll,lte figure of
U title ( alft feititii,
on upwa tojiim*. t.un week," ah<
continued, "I saw a woman, quite your
age and build, wear one of pink and I look
■down Its chief and most charming feat
ures while Calve was warbling the Jewel
song in Faust. The liody itself was of
cloth, having a plain French back and a
cluster of the queerest, dearest little slant
ing tucks under either sleeve. These tucks
threw just the requisite fulness and stiff
ness inio the fronts that opened well over
the bust, to reveal a full vest of cream
white Liberty dik. Onto the edge of the
cloth fronts were, sewed stiffened wavy
bands of stitched pink glace silk. A fold
ed hand of glace silk finished off the waist
line, the collar and cuffs were of silk and
the wearer of this fetching body exhibited
i small chatelaine of gun metal, caught
in one side of her belt, and her gloves, I
olisefvtd, was of that peculiarly fashion
able color known as gun metal gray, and
were fastened with one very large white
pearl button. The skirt that went with
thi. was a plain black inconspicuous af
fair. .|1 1 must confess 1 extracted al
most s much pleasure from the? sight of
that tidy, modish little waist as I did from
a sweet thing in panne on my left.”
Note- for tlie Panne.
"Te l in. about It Instantly,” demanded
the girl on the divan, “for yours Is the
last word to be slid as to the colth wais ! .
Pink it shall l>e, and now for (he panne.
1 can put tsinne inside my limit for the
next blouse quite as easily as a glace silk.
It's not as costly as the best taffeta and
a carefully worn waist of this new velvet
will see a trio of taffeta garments retired
to the rag bag in disgrace and tatters.”
"Besides,” put in the hostess, “there Is
nothing more novel than silver gray panne
that Is tucked. The lucks must be well
spaced and so narrowly pinched that they
will stand up .like cords all over the sur
face of the material. But to tetiirn to the
waist on my left. It was a silver gtav
panne and the tucks ran from throat to
belt, enhancing the slenderness of the
wearer's figure. In front over the bust
the panne was cleft apart to reveal an in
terlude of accordian pleated chiffon of the
most heavenly shade of blue. Baby eyes
blue Is what the dressmakers call it. A
wedge of cream guipure spread over the
lower portion of the faintly azure vest,
but it was the only other note In the'blue
and gray symphony that was accompa
nied by a gray cashmere skirt showing a
pleated back.”
Pleated Hacks.
“Who is wearing a pleated back?” ques
tioned Mrs. Van Knickerbocker, dropping
with a sigh of acute exhaustion into a
motherly looking arm chair. “Why, ev
erybody,” came the answer as a cup of
the most fragrant, tea was set on a tiny
wicker stand before her. "Oh, nonsense,
I think they are ugly and clumsy. I've
not seen a really well pleated back this
THE DEBUTANTE'S ROSE TINTED
BODICE.
season, nnd I've Just come from a tea
when' all the women were wearing shad
ed ostrich feathers in their hats. Last
week I saw the new Henry Arthur Jones
play and not an actress showed any but
habit back skirts.”
"There, now, you are out of sorts and
tired,” -began the hostess, soothingly.
"You’ve been too hard worked over Christ
mas shopping.”
For .Small Daughters.
“Ip addition to having fitted out my
whole flock of small daughters with new
cogtmnee for their cousin's wedding, no
small job in itself. I can assure,” added
?! |
A BRILLIANT HOUSE BODICE.
the weary one,"although 1 don't know that
anything gives me greater pleasure than
a long morning at the children's outfit
ters, for juvenile fashions are lovely now
adays. Such smagt picturesque suits as
the children do wear, and the dressmakers
import Parisian mcxkds to copy from,
though for my part I prefer the American
styles for our young people.
“My mind this morning was all torn be
tween a charming checked red and black
velvet suit and one In gray cloth for my
oldest girl. Beatrice. Those short piled
chocked velvets, set off with a touch of
fur, arc the most modish choice for girls
about 11, but Beatrice had a mind of her
‘own and asserted it like a wise little wo
man In favor of the gray cloth. It Is zinc
gray and so simple and yet so timely, for
there Is a graceful tunic overdress and
its edge* are all scalloped with a double
row of silk cord, falling upon a plain
tmderdress. The scallop finish Is given
to the big collar on the waist that also
shows floral embroidery in shaded gray
silks, and the hat we chose in periwinkle
blue velvet with twists of satin antique
ribbon and a tuft of plumes by way of
ornamentation. Now I know that sounds
most fanciful as I tell It, but the Impres
sion the gray gown gives Is one or al
most studied simplicity, for I am not one
of those mothers who believes in letting
a small daughter exhaust all the |>lea
uri a of elegant n<l elaborate dress la-fore
sis ha* reached IS,”
Y> u are Just the woman 1 want lo talk
to then apiopoa of the aott of fur 1 should
allow itty L year-old Clark u to wear,”
THE MORNING NEWS: SUNDAY, DECEMBER 24. 1899.
*-a|<l the hostess. “She Js iea.“ f ng m* 1 to ffive
her a set of fox or hable things.”
Furs for Children.
"My dear woman!” interposed Mrs. Van
Knickerbocker, ‘don’t make your child
a word worn woman before her time A
lltt e irl should never, never wear any
hing bin a touch of asrrachan on a rich
ly cclored wool coat, or stor e marten or* a
very dark one. If you mean to give her
fur pieces then give her a muff and neck
piece of gray squirrel, while if it s a muff
and boa she wants gray Thibet goat is
ihe only tiling for a child. Keep be costly
furs until the time comes for her to put
on loiif? dresses and jewels around her
neck. My nine-year-old Mary, a dtar
blonde child, needed anew wrap for the
wedding so I guided her choice very art
fully toward one of the clearest pate cocoa
brown Zlbillne cloth having a novel ar
ranuement of ovetTij pii g do h lands by
way of trimming on the skirt and a col
iar decoration in pale fawn tinted Thibet
jjoat fur.
Our choice of a hat to go with this wab
bh and for a time between a stitched felt in
mushroom shape, ho very much worn by
school girls this winter and a pretty
cheapeau of brown lel t having a frilled
brim of a lighter weight of felt elaborate
ly stitched. The brown hat seemed the
more suitable, eo we ordered it lined wi:h
a pale shade of brown surah, full gathered
and corded at intervals and then a tuft
of shaded brown plumes jit one side gave
the proper touch of elegance.
Mary Dean.
THE WEED OF HOI SEKEEFERS.
American Women Too Proud to Put
an Employe lit the Head of Their
lloumcm.
, New York. Dec. 22.—“1f you want to
know why we have no first class profes
sional housekeepers in this country,” vol
unteered the importer of a real live Eng
lish specimen, “it is because the Ameri
can woman is too proud and far too inde
pendent to allow an employe to manage
her home. That is also the reason why we
with the best ordered, most luxurious
homes in the world suffer from criminally
wastful domestic management, and the
worst s.rvice of any highly civilized peo
file. In France or England, where half as
much money is si>eni, twice the work for
the servants to do and a third of the con
veniences put at their disposal, the fash
ionuMe country op cdy house is coniucted
’with a noiseless regularity that fills the
American visitor whh nothing short of
amazement. In houses where the incomes
aie by no means large a corps of finished
servants will be found, that only our mil
lionaires over here can afford.
“Just so long as the American woman is
head of a modest household* she is the
all around callable housekeeper in
the world; she can face stiffer odds and
rout th<m more utterly than any French
or English woman living. We .are ihe only
women in the worid who, when deserted
at a critical moment, can cook a meal and
yet sit at the head of ihe table, while
that same meal is being served, in a
fetching frock carrying on the conversa
tion an though nothing had happened. It
is a charming faculty, but when she is put
at ihe head of a corps of twenty servants
arid a great country house her system
fails.
Tlie French tlaitre D'Hotel.
“A big, fashionable household i9 just
like a big ship, it’s got to have a captain
lo direct its course and an engineer to run
the machinery, and in the foreign coun
tries they realize nnd provide for this.
In France it is usually a maiire d'hotel
who shoulders the domestic burden. He
has worked up in ihe service and his word
is law lo the servants. He hires and dis
misses them, p/ans their work, sees that
it is done and he guarantees to keep the
men and maids well fed on a slated al
lowance. The mistress gives him a sum
every month and on ihls he caters for the
servants’ table that is by no means eup
plfed from the larder that feeds the fam
ily. Every servant 1s entitled to the scraps
he or she leaves and hns his or her own
plate, knife, fork, spoon, etc., and when a
meal is over these are washed and set
away by their owners in their special oup
boards. Scraps are an important item to
the thrifty French domestic.
In England there is a woman who does
this, and every handsome English house
is built with special housekeepers’ quar
ters, a sitting room and bedroom. Some
American houses are now being provided
with these special two rooms.
A Model British Housekeeper.
“My housekeeper is of the typical sort.
She is about 40, plump, pleasing and
a settled widow’ who entered service at
10 as a scullery maki and has worked
up. She is addressed by the household
as Mrs. Brown, and every afternoon her
tea is served in her sitting room at 4
o’clock by a maid. She drinks tea and
eats her dinner alone, later, wearing a
plain black silk gown, a muslin wreath
cap and a small lawn apron. Every serv
ant in the house, with the exception of
the butler, is under her direct control,
and for the good or evil that every servant
dots she is responsible.
“She accepts my directions with a hu
mility no decayed genilewoman would
show, and with a respectfulness no con
fidential lady’s maid ever feels. She gets
SSO a month and an allowance for paying
the servants’ wages end catering to their
table, and she it is who sees that no
waste goes on in my house.
“With a prayer of thanksgiving and a
quiet mind I can now nightly lay my head
on my pillow and I don’t expect to come
down with nervous prostration at the end
of the season. The storm and stress of
housekeeping has passed by me and no
longer must I cooly count oft $209 a month
to waste as most fashionable hostesses do;
no longer do I haunt intelligence offices
when a dozen engagements press, and no
longer do I wet down to weep on coining
home from a hard afternoon’s calling, to
hear that the cook has left in a rage, the
parlor maid has smashed my best bric-a
brac; and the laundress scorched a hole
in my best tablecloth.
The Woman’s Makeshift.
“But let me tell you what lo’s of ortr
rich women do. They don’t mind hand ng
their babies into the care of kinKrgar
tens. but they deeply resent sharing the
command of their households with a com
petent woman. For my part I think every
big American household where there is a
great corps of servants should have one
of these competent women at the head,
and very soon, in consequence, we would
see o marked improvement in the Am r
iean maid servant, tor training domestics
is one of the important missions of the
English housekeeper. She lnke*4 in ignor-
girls and teaches them first to be
competent kitchen maids and ih*n pro
motes them as their value and knowledge
increases and thus the generation of
English maid servants, the deftest, most
accomplished domestic? in the world, are
trained in their profession. (’lever and
versatile as the American weman may be
when thrown on her own resources, she
has no gift for educating crude talent.
When she has wealth and luxury she sim
ply solves the difficulty by pay’ng fabu
lous wages, overlooking a good >'pil of in
competence and retiring to a hotel cvei y
now and then to recover from the battle
with servants.” Mlllicent Arrow’point.
—Josph Jenson, a clockinak* r of Rich
field. Utah, baa Just ’completed a wond<r
tu dock, which, in addition to striki* g
ihe hours, halves and quarters and show
ing the phas** of Ihe moon, tells jn*t
w-hai tlm* it Is in every ciij in the world.
Th' is done by means of a glols- which
loolves lii dd u tranH.vii'MM globular
gias-. On this Kl.iss is mark'd a line
which represents 12 o’clock noon As the
globe revolve* this lint in always over that
part of Du world in which it is noon at
that iirn< 'Other line* represent the other
hours, and In thi* way i* is amy to get
the tkid time In an> given place.
WOMEN GIVE MILLIONS.
HAVE (.It EX OVER $1,000,000 A
MONTH FOB ratIAtTHHOPr.
Ilixlier Education Mali.** the Stronjg
e.t Appeal to Feminine Sympa
thies Splendid lle.|iie*t* —Poor
SeaiM*tre**c* Fare Well—Van!
Sam* Expended for Memorial*.
New York, Dec. 22. —While the following
is not a complete record of women’s gifts
for the cause of charity during 1899, it ap
proximates the magnificent sum of $16,000,-
000, or over $1,000,000 every month. Of this
amount, the largest single sum is Mrs.
Stanford's $10,000,000, and Mrs. Bradley’s
$500,000 is the next largest gift.
With the ending of the year and cen
tury one may perhaps be |>ardone<i for
dropping into statistics, statistics proving
the splendid munificence of American wo
men to schools, churches, art Institutes
and philanthrope enterprises.
To hark hack a little; the total ef gifts
and bequests for the five years—lß93
through 1897—in this country were more
than slos,ooo,ooo—that Is gifts from private
fortunes for public uses. Of this $45,000,000
was given during 1897. In 1898, in New
York City alone, $25,000,000 was given away
in charity. During the same year, the
gifts of thlr{y-four .women in the United
States for higher education amounted to
$3,446,400; of this sum Cora J. Flood gave
tile largest amount, or $2,000,000, and Helen
Gouid, beside her magnificent donation to
the government, gave $37,000 for education
al purposes.
For Edncntionnl Purpose*.
The record of gifts to charity and for
educational purposes by women in this
country for the year now ending is a noble
c.ne.
Half a million dollars, given by Mrs.
Lydia Bradley of Peoria, ill., leads the
list. It was presented last summer to
the Bradley Polytechnic . Institute, and
constituted her second donation, the first
being a gift of the land on which the in
stitute was built and the money to build
it. That involved a sum approximating
$250,000. In addition, Mrs. Bradley has giv
en to 'Peoria, 137 acres of land for a park,
she has built a church, a home for aged
women and many other smaller institu
tions.
Miss Flood’s presentation of her fath
er's country place, at Menlo park, to the
University of California, made last year,
has been supplemented recently by a gift
of money. The hquse and its contents are
valued at $1,000,00), and a tract of nearly
3,000 acres is included In the transfer.
Another California latL- has been mun
ificent in her gifts; it is Mrs. E. B. Crock
er, who has conveyed to the Benevolent
iind Protective Order of Eiks her home
in Sacramento—it is presented as a mem
orial of her husband, and is valued at $90,-
000. Mrs. Phebe Hearst and Mrs. Leland
Stanford are constantly adding to their
gifts to the universities they have built
up in California, and their benefaciions go
up into the millions. Mrs. Stanford's lat
est contribution made during the summer
was one of $H),000i0to.
Mrs. Kmmone Blaine of Chicago, in
Maine, announced that she would found a
college of pedagogy, the institution to be
started with a fund of several hundred
thousand dollars. She has had this idea
in mind for some years, it being her de
sire to accomplish a practical good for
poor girls; by giving them an opportunity
to become teachers, she bestows a perm
anent benefit upon them. The new college
of pedagogy, built at at endowed by Mrs.
Blaine, will represent an outlay of $500,-
000.
At the eommeneerhent at Vassar College
in June, it was announced that Miss
Katharine Tutile had given a SIO,OOO
scholarship in menaory of her sister and
Mrs. Caroline Swift Atwater of Pough
keepsie to build anew infirmary had do
nated SB,OOO.
Fro nr Mrs. William Beldon Noble of
Washington, Harvard University has re
ceived a gift of $20,000, to endow a lecture
ship in memory of her husband, a grad
uate of the class of 1885. Another gift of
$26,000 was received by the university from
the family of John Simpkins, for the
Laurence Scientific, school, and still an
other $5,000 from Mrs. Frederick T. Phil
ips of Lawrence, R. I. The money is to
establish a fund, the income of which to
be expended annually in the purchase of
books for the college library in the de
partment of English literature. The gift is
in memory of the donor’s brother.
Anew dormitory to be erected at Wells
ley College, at a cost of $60,000, is the
gift of Mrs. Martha S. Pomeroy of Wash
ington. Mrs. Irene B. Lewis of Hamilton,
N. Y.. has recently made the genero s
gift of $5,000 to Colgate University, to
found three scholarships, for the purpose
of aiding young men studying for the
Baptist ministry in that institution.
Miss Marie Hopper of Philadelphia has
given SIO,OOO to Bryn. Mawr College for a
scholarship foundation fund.
For General Charities.
Mrs. Joseph Moffatt of Los Angeles,
Cal., has given property to the value of
$50,000 to the endowment fund of the Na
tional Florence Crittenton Mission—a
charity which wat founded sixteen years
ago by Charles N. Crittenton of New
York in memory of his daughter.
For the maintenance of a home for con
valescents and invalids at Santa Barbara,
SBO,OOO has been left by Miss Anna S. C.
Blake, her will being probated in April.
She also left to the Cottage Hospital $lO.-
000; to die Qrthopodie Hospital, Philodel
pliia, SIO,OOO and to a Boston hospital a
like sum.
A noble charity is that founded during
lije past few months by Mrs. Alfred Corn
ing Clark, in memory of her husband. A
more valuable and efficient form of char
ity does not exist in New York city than
the Alfred Corning Clark Neighborhood
House, which stands in the very heart of
the crowded lower East Side. Men, wo
men’s. boys' and giris’ clubs, kindergar
tens, libraries, conservatories and roof
gardens are included in the work of the
institution—a work which is thoroughly
appreciated by the people in whose behalf
it is being done, it has been established
ami endowed at a cost of aboui $400,000.
During last summer anew floating hos
pital for St. John's Guild was built by
Mrs. Augustus O. Juiliard of New York,
at a cost of $83,000; it wtae named in honor
of the donor, the Helen C. Juiliard. The
Emma Abliott, another barge, built from
tile munificence of the singer, and named
In her honor, was also placed in commis
sion during the hot weather.
Ml** Gould'* Generon* Heart and
Hand.
The generous and lavish gifts of Miss
Helen Miller Gould are coupled with an
unobstrusive and noble manner, and such
an absence of display as is rarely met
with. This unostentation make it ex
tremely difficult—indeed impossible—to do
more than mention a gift here and there.
She is supposed to tie the donor of $250,000
subscrilied to build the new library for
the University of the City of New York.
Her gifts to Chautauqua have also been
munificent.
To the endowment fund of Ihe Univer
sity of ChieHgo she has recently contrib
uted $25,(100. A S' ' 01*1 scholarship of SB,OOO
lo Vaesar College was announced
at the commencement in June—these
*clK>lar*hlp* an given In memory of her
mother. Two holsrshlp* of $6,000 each
*fw ha* given lo Mr. Moody's schools; one
for Ihe girl*' seminary and one for the
boys. To endow a tree bed In perpetuity
In ih< Manhattan Eye and Ear Hoapjtal,
New York, $5,000. At a com of about $350
she provided for a floating hospital trip,
last summer. For eye lon* sufferers in
Wisconsin, July 6, last, she sent her check
for $250.
In March the Countess de Castellane
(Anna Gould) gave $20,000 to a children's
society in Paris. She is to present a
splendid hall to be used for charitable
bazaars, to take the place of the building
destroyed by fire, in which so many lives
were lost. The site alone has cost $200,000.
When the Countess took possession of her
new home on the Avenue de Bois de Bo
logne le J t Christmas, she visited the chil
dren of all the workmen employed in its
building to a Christmas tree, and sent
them home laden with presents.
Gifts From Fashionable Women.
Since her husband's death, perhaps the
largest check written by Mrs. Cornelius
Vanderbilt, for a gift, is that of $5,000 for
the police pension fund, as a recognition
of the services rendered by the police force
at the time of Mr. Vanderbilt’s funeral.
To the King’s Daughters of Newport
her personal check for SI,OOO was lately
sent; the amount to be used In ministering
to the wants of the sick poor.
Mrs. Frederick W. Vanderbilt visited
Newport early in November to personally
supervise the Thanksgiving dinner which
she has given for many years to the news
boys, bootblacks and other poor boys of
that fashionable watering place. To de
fray the expenses of the occasion she
writes her check for $1,500.
Mrs. O. H. P. Belmont’s gift of SSOO to
Trinity Church Sunday School was ice 1
In providing a Thanksgiving entertain
ment. To the Nassau Hospital, at
Hempstead, I>. I„ Mrs. Belmont has sent
$3,000. Mrs. P. A. Harper has given the
some amount to the hospital.
For “St. Anthony’s Bread,” Mrs. Fran
cis Broekholsr Cutting contributes $3.00
a year. The charity was founded a year
ago in memory of Mrs. Cutting's son,
Brockholst Cutting. The fund is for tha
sick poor within the limits of St. Mary's
parish, Newport, which is more than half
of the town, but the fund is distributed
without regard to creed, color or national
ity. St. Mary's is a Roman Catholic
Church, and a requiem mass is celebrated
for the dead man upon each anniversary
of his death. He died three years ago.
During the year at an oullay of about
$4,000 Mrs. Anson Phelps Stokes has con
tinued her gifts to the home she presented
to the parish of the Heavenly Rest, New
York, a library and recreation house for
the use of the crowded Italian colony cen
tered around Mulberry street. The King
and Queen of Italy have recognized the
charitable work of Mrs. Stokes by sending
their portraits.
May last the new church of the Holv
Trinity was consecrated—this is the
Rhinelander memorial, the church, morn
ing chapel, parish house and clergy house
being memorial gifts and costing well up
into the millions. The family have reserv
ed the right during ten years of adding
memorials in the form of windows. The
buildings stand upon the last of the
Rhinelander farm, which has been owned
by the family over 100 years.
Miss Elizabeth Piankinton of Milwaukee
gives SIOO,OOO for a Young Women’s Chris
tian Association in that city. Through
the generous gift of $50,000 from a lady
residing in New England, Bishop Grafton
of Fond du Dae, Wis., recently announced
that the Indebtedness on the cathedral had
been wiped out and the school fund aug
mented.
The $25,000 raised in England for the hos
pital ship Maine, to be dispatched to South
Africa, received so many noble contribu
tions from American women that the sum
may justly claim a place in this list.
In Women’s Wills.
Gifts by bequest have abounded during
3899. A quarter of a million dollars was
left by Mrs. Eugene Kelly to build a lady
chapel for St. Patrick's Cathedral, New
York, and to provide a fund for the sick
poor. Of the Baroness de Hirsch’s SIOO,-
000,000 left to charity, $1,200,000 comes to
America—lo the De Hirseh's foundation in
New York city. The Clara de Hirsch
Home in Sixty-second street, founded
about two years ago by the Baroness, re
ceives an additional legacy of $250,000.
The will of Mrs. Caroline L. Macy, who
founded the Macy (Memorial Art School
in New York, bequeaths $200,000 to the
Teachers' College and $5,000 to the Presby
terian Hospital. Mrs. E. A. Stevens of
Castle Point, Hoboken, left generous be
quests to Holy Innocent Church, which
she was mainly instrumental in estab
lishing. A fund of $3,000 is to provide coal
for the poor of Hoboken, free or at cost
price, $12,000 Is left for other church chari
ties. To the Church of the Holy Commun
ion. New York, Mrs. Caroline A. Cisco
leaves SIO,OOO. To the Missionary Society
domestic and foreign—Mrs. Emilie A. Mat
thien. $5,000. About SBO,OOO is distributed
among New York charities by the will of
Mrs. Caroline E. Hollister.
Generous legacies, making a total of $20,-
000, were also left by Mrs. Mary El Hart
of Troy, N. Y. Mrs. Felis R. Bfunnot of
Allegheny City. Pa., bequeathed by will,
probated in November, $123,000 to missions.
The late Mrs. Harriet Frothingham Wol
cott, stepmother of Gov. Roger Wolcott,
distributed by her will, probated in April
last, $32,500 to various charities; among
the number the Massachusetts General
Chapel, the Hampton School, Virginia, the
Bennett Industrial School, Boston, and the
Tuskegee Normal and Agricultural Insti
tute.
St. Barnabas Hospital. Newark, bene
fits to the value of SI,OOO and a share in
the residuary estate of Mrs. Eliza Wells,
who also left SI,OOO to the Society' for the
Prevention of Cruelty to Children. By
the will of Mrs. T. W. Robbins, widow of
the late Congressman John Robbins, her
estate is charged with the payment of
many charitable legacies.
By the death of Mrs. Elizabeth Thomp
son in July, the poor seamstresses of
Rhinebeok-on-Hudson find themselves
heirs to an estate of $300,000, which is to
be equally divided among them. F. S.
MIDWINTER STYLES FOR MEN.
Henppenrnnce of the Cutaway Coat.
Some Foreign Novelties—Colored
Shirts,
New Y’ork, Dec. 22.—Cutaway coate that
have for the past five or six years teen
conspicuously absent from the well select
ed masculine wardrobe, seem about to re
gain their farmer prestige—now at no time
is the long tailed cutaway a graceful or
becoming garment. It is a poor sort of
compromise between the stately frock, the
easy sacque shape or the squared off
"reefer,” and oh a stout man this long
In let) body coat with its sharp slope away
from the waist line is acutely unbecoming;
for ail that the tabois are behind this
garment and are pushing it rapidly into
favor again, especially for morning wear,
on occasions when there is need of some
particular smartness in dress, and elderly
gentlemen have been the first to accept
the lead of the tailors in this direction.
Whole suits of gray end brown tweed
are made up with what are called morning
coals, else trous rs of a fancy weave are
worn with long tailed black worsted coats
sloping away In front on a more easy
and becoming line ihan formerly. One fea
ture of thete coals is the absence of any
outside breast pocket. The handkerchief
is carried in the tails and there has been
noticed recently at smart weddings a
number of well lilting cutaways ac
companied by white waist coa's, gray
gloves, patent leather shoes and high hats
Undeniably on m n of gcoi figure the
effect was very nearly that of the or.ho
dux full skirted fro k coat.
Every |>roperly adjusted evening tie of
white lawn, goes twice around the collar
before it i drawn into a how (bar sill)
leans toward the butterfly effect. While
the ends of the tie are cut equate, th>
coineia of the dreaa shirt collars found off
gratefuily in accord with tl oe< of tbs
cuffs, dlight though lluae details aaem.
they form the dclkata line of demarka*
BEWARE
of Imitations of
LIEBIG
Company's Extract
Look tor this e-
act signature f ' . ~ Z 7. _
in Blue on the
wrapper: y cd
lion between Ihe fashionably and unfash
ionably dr,ssid man
Another straw that shows the way that
the mode for mtn blows, is in the .lnirg of
evening coals and the length of the full
dress coat’s tail. Black satin last season
was the proper material fof a driss ccat's
lining, whether a Tuxedo or not. This sea
son a soft rather dull finished silk is the
choicest mater a' ior the puriose and the
dancing and opera coat has tails of a
length that recall the fashions of 1820.
The colored shirt mania shows no sign
of abatement, though men whose ward
robes are very carefully selected, assume
a tremendous penchant for black and
white. Their preference is for a white
linen garment showing a wide and nafrow
line of black, and in the morning a high
roll over white collar and a small batwing
tie of mixed coral and white silk.
“Other times, other manners,", is a free
translation of the French epigram, the
truth of which is clearly exemplified by
the bearing of the men this winter on the
street especially'. No longer is it appro
priate to assume what was known as the
Piccadilly strut; a step taken with the
body bent far forward and stiffly poised,
the cane gripped in the middle and held as
firmly on the horizontal as an athlete’s
practice bar, while at every stride the
walker rose on his heels as if the back
of his boots were fitted with springs or
he had inadvertently stepped on a tack.
A slow, even, level step, an air of ele
gant leisure, and a woman’s bow so re
turned that she can see the full inside of
the crowm of the silk hat doffed in her
honor, is a manner that the gentleman of
the time cultivates when he takes his
walks aboard on the fashionable avenue.
Good things in the way of toilet con
veniences continue to come over from Eng
land. One of the latest is the umbrella
with a stick so hinged that it can be fold
ed to fit exactly into a coat box. The oth
er is an extension leather dress suit ease.
This capital contrivance of leather, though
actually no larger than the regular case,
holds double the number of garments. One
side of It is boxed, the other has a soft
folded leather bottom that can be pulled
out like the extension of a camera box
or strapped close and flat as a drum head.
The lining is done in the heaviest dark
green linen with a series of slots and
straps along the floor of the boxed 6ide,
for holding fast the handies of toilet
brushes, a soap case, etc.
Beau Brummel.
ENAMELED BUTTERFLIES.
A Woman \V lio Has Collected Forty-
Rare and Beautiful Specimens.
New York, Dec. 22. —A bit of antique his
tory, a touch of individuality the crisp
flavor of romance are becoming more and
more associated with the ornaments most
valued and worn by fashionable women.
This prevailing sentiment is well illus
trated by a lady of fine taste who has
carried out an idea wholly her own. She
has always had a passion for butterflies,
and in her collection are many of the rar
est and most beautifully colored speci
mens known to science. Whenever she
finds one that especially suits her fancy,
or has attached to it some pleasant asso
ciation, she sends it to an enameler in
London, a man reputed to be the finest
artist of his kind in Europe, and he makes
a fac simile of the specimen. Their fan
tastic shape and brilliancy combine to
make the butterflies excellent models for
this particular kind of workmanship. With
wonderful fidelity they are copied, and
even the transparent quality of their
wings is effectively simulated. They are
finally mounted so that by pinching their
wings together the sharp gold claws be
neath fasten tightly to whatever they are
placed upon. It would be equally feasible
to have them made into hair pins, brace
let dangles and clasps for veils.
This particular woman, however, who
has perhaps forty of these enameled beau
ties wears them in but one way, as shoul
der clasps on her ball dresses, or pfaced
diagonally across the front to represent
a flight of the gauzy insects. She has
one complete set of yellow butterflies;
and they are held in reserve to be worn
with soft, white gowns. The largest ones
are fastened on the right shoulder and
from there they decrease in size to the
waist line. Another flight includes every
color of the rainbow, and for them bodices
of a more somber hue are chosen as a
background. Wonderfully effective also
are two very large and quaintly-formed
sapphire blue ones that were worn as dec
orations for a yellow crepe gown.
Quite aside from the artistic effect and
originality of this decoration, the beauti
ful creature themselves have been so mi
nutely and accurately copied in the en
amel work that they are excellent studies
of the originals. In fact, the charming
woman to whom they belong often sighs
and vows that her admirers are all but
terfly lovers, and she is being continually
entrapped by the scientific world to teil
the peculiarities and species of those from
Australia and New Zealand.
MOZLEY’S LEMON ELIXIR.
A Pleasant Lemon Tonic.
Cures indigestion, headache, malaria,
kidney disease, fever, chills, loss of appe
tite. debility, nervous prostration and
heart failure, by regulaiing the liver,
siomache, bowels and kidneys.
MOZLEY’S LEMON ELIXIR
Cured me of indig e inn, I had suffered for
ten years. I had tried almost every m di
cine, but aif failed. Since taking Lemon
Elixir I can eat anything I like
Reevesvllle, S. C. W. A. Griffith.
MOZLEY’S LEMON ELIXin
Cured me of indigestion and heart disease
after years of suffering when afl other
remedies and doctors had failed
Beulah, S. C. N. D. Coleman.
MOZLEY’S LEMON ELIXIR.
I have been a great sufferer from dva
pepsla for about fifteen years, my trouble
being my liver, stomach and bowels with
terrible headaches. Lemon Elixir cured me
My appetite Is good, and I am well I ha i
taken a barret of other medicine, ihat done
me no good. Charles Glbhard
No. 1515 Jefferson street, Louisville, ky
MOZLEY’S LEMON ELIXIR
Cured me of enlarged liver, nervous indl
gestion and heart disease. I was unable
lo walk up stalls or do ony kind of work
I was tnaud by many physicians, but rni
no belter until I uted Lemon Elixir ]am
now healthy and vigorous. '
C. H. Baldwin
No. 98 Alexander street, Atlanta, Oa!
MOZLEY’ LEMON HOT DHops.
Cures all coughs, colds, hoars.ness, ,or
throat, bronchitis, hemorrhage, and „ri
throat and lung dieaaaaa. E.egsni, r. IL.
25c at druggists. Prepared only by Dr
H. Mosley, Adams, Ua.-ed * ’
AN UP-TO-DATE SANTA CLAUS.
A LJVE STORY OF TO-DAY.
By Susan Brown Robbins.
Paul Fletcher was In the drawing room
waiting for Lida to come. He was fidgety
and impatient, for, when you have been
vainly trying for six months to propose io
a girl, it is only natural that you would
be a bit nervous on the day when you
know that you are lo be allowed to do it.
Lida lived with her brother, and every
lime Fletcher called to see her either the
brother's wife or his children were in tl e
room, so there was never a chance to say
anything to her alone.
Fletcher admitted that Mrs. Safford was
a very charming woman, that he was un
commonly fend of the children, and that
it was delightful to see Lida so devoted to
her and nie.-ts. But it was natur
al that he should tather resent the stupid
intrusion of the family, as he chose to call
I it.
At last, however, his opportunity had
come. It was the day before Christmas,
and Mrs. Safford and the children ha.l
gone to her mother's for several days.
Now, with Lida left at home with the
two servants, and her brother not coming
till evening, Fletcher could say lo her
those things he had been longing to say,
but which he could not bring himself to
write in a letter nor to declare before the
assembled family.
At length, after what seemed a very
long waiting, someone was coming. He
stood up and looked eagerly ioward ihe
doorway. The pordere was thrust aside,
and in walked—Teddy—Teddy, who in
Fletcher’s opinion was the worst pill in the
whole body as far as staying power and
keen observation were concerned.
“Hullo, Teddy,’ he said, not very cor
dially. “I thought you had gone to spend
Christmas with your grandma.”
"I didn’t go,” said Teddy.
There was that in his appearance which
seemed to tell of some recent storm now
succeeded by calm.
“You see. grandma’s kind of sick, and
she can’t stand noise very weli, and she
thinks Frank and me both at one time are
too much. The others, she says, are old
enough to behave themselves, but she
thinks Frank and I are better apart. I
went last year. It wasn’t much fun, and
this time I'm going to stay with Aunt
Lida.”
“Do you expect a visit from Santa
Clau9 to-night?”
"Oh, I s'pose so,” wearily. ‘l’d Just like
to see him, though!” His manner grew
more animated.
“Why, what would you do?”
“I’d tell him what I think of him.”
“And what is that?”
“Oh, that I think he’s a fraud. Pre
tendin' he comes in a sleigh when the
ground has been bare for a month! And
reindeers, too! Who does he think is go
ing to believe that? Why doesn’t he come
on a bicycle?”
"His fur overcoat would be rather in the
way,” said Fletcher gravely. “And he's
pretty old, too, and maybe does not know
how to ride, and besides, how would he
bring the presents?”
“What’s the use of presents, anyway?
I never have anything that’s any good."
“I think you have the blues to-day.”
said Fletcher, and then he did not speak
again, though Teddy tried to draw him
out.
He seemed to be in a brown study and
nothing roused him till Lida came in, and
even then he did not say much and stayed
only a short time.
It was in the evening that a card was
brought to Teddy. On it was written ‘San
ta Claus.” Teddy's eyes sparkled- “Teil
him to come in,” he Said grandly.
A moment later Santa Claus stood be
fore him. a tail, fur clad figure with flow
ing hair and beard. Teddy shook hands
and introduced the guest to his aunt.
“Did you find it good sleighing?” Teddy
asked. “And how are the reindeers?”
“I did rot come on runners, young man,"
said Santa Claus. “Perhaps you did not
know that there is no snow on the
ground.”
“Bicycle?” asked Teddy.
“No. I came in a motor carriage.”
“A motor carriage!" cried Teddy incred
ulously. Then he ran to the window and
looked out. “It is, Aunt Lida,” he said,
excitedly, coming back. "You can see it
just as plain, out under the electric light.”
”1 did not bHng you any presents.” said
Santa Claus, “as I heard you did not care
for them, hut I would like to take you a
111 tie ride if your aunt will go too? I came
early"—glancing at the clock—“so that I
can get back and attend to the boys and
girls who like to have presents.”
“Of course we Will go,” said Teddy
promptly. “I never have been in a motor
carriage.”
Lida hesitated a moment, then she wrote
a hasty noie to her brother, leaving It
where he would find it when he came homo
and went to get her wraps.
“Say, Aunt Lida,” Teddy whispered,
when she put on his legglns. “Say, it’s Mr.
Fletcher, did you know it? I knew him by
hie nice brown eyes."
In a few moments the three were on
their way, well protected from the cold
bracing air by an abundance of furs and
wraps. There was no moon, but after the
lighted streets oY the town were past, the
stars shown down on them brightly.
Teddy was wild with delight, and his
tongue ran on rapidly. At length there
were occasional pauses, then longer ones,
interrupted by disjointed remarks. Final
ly there was total silence. Fletcher bent
over so Ihat he could see the child's face,
then Ig> looked at Lida and smiled.
“Fast asleep,” he said softly. “I sup
pose he ought to be in bed, but can't he
sleep out of doors Just as well?”
“I don't know,” she said, doubtfully.
Perhaps it will do no harm. He cannot
possibly be cold," and she covered him a
little more closely.
They went on for a little in silence.
Fletcher was trying to compose his speech.
"I don't know how to say It.” he burst
out desperately at length. "I keep forget
ting how I look, and if I say it the way I
want to it will be perfectly ridiculous.
And yet I must say it, for I may never
have another chance."
She was looking at him, her startled eyes
dark and luminous in the starlight.
"Perhaps you do not need to 6ay it,” she
said quietly.
"Do you mean that you understand
without by telling you?” he asked eagerly.
"Haven’t you ever heard of woman's
intuition?” she returned, shyly.
“Yes. but do you mean that you do—
that you will ”
“Yes." she answered, very low.
All the rest of the way they talked !n
subdued tones, that Teddy might not b
aroused. As they left the open country be
hind them, the moon was Just rising. The
few people they met in the town looked
curiously at the three In tha motor car
riage—the beautiful young woman in dark
furs and with red cheeks and bright eyes,
the white-haired, white-bearded man and
the sleeping child.
When they reached the house, Fletcher
took Teddy in hi arms and carried him In.
He laid him gently on the couch In the
hall and turned away, thinking the child
still slept.
"I can stop only a moment,” Fletch r
said, "it Is lata."
At that tnatant, Teddy aat bolt upright,
staring about him wildly. He caught
sight of his father in an adjoining room
“Oh. papa," he cried, hla voice ringing
out clear and shrill. "OH. papa! San a
Claus la kiealng Aunt Lida!”
—Prince Prladrteh Auguat of Huxorr .
p!de*t Hon of Prince George, and. after ids
father, heir to the throne, waa thro* 1 '
from his horse recently, fracturing ■"*
skull. Ha la now in a critical
in the Drradan palace,