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LiPPITT y S SIMPLIFIED GOLF |
Lippitt could afford an all-leather caddy bag and a couple of dozen clubs
as well as not. He has fully a ton or two of unspent money, besides owning
a steam yacht that combines all the comforts of home and the grandeur
of a club.
Senator Lippitt was elected to the senate to succeed Nelson W. Aldrich.
He is serving his first term, which will expire March 3, 1917. He was born
in the city of Providence, R. 1., October 12, 1856.
PRESTON’S BIG JOB |
James D. Preston, superintendent
of the senate press gallery at Wash
ington, has been given a big piece of
■work to do this year, but no one who
knows him and his capabilities doubts
that he will do it well. He has been
put in charge of the press section of
the Democratic national convention in
St. Louis June 14, and of the same sec
tion of the Republican convention at
Chicago on June 7. Mr. Preston will
be assisted by W. J. Donaldson, -who
is superintendent of the house press
gallery.
Both national committees, by res
olution, delegated to the “standing
committee of Washington correspond
ents’’ the authority to apportion the
seats at the two big gatherings. Pres
ton, a veteran at this work, and Don
aldson, were selected by the corre
spondents to keep all but working
newspaper men out of the press seats.
This job of keeping the press
seats for real newspaper men is a strenuous one, for the pressure for those
places is tremendous. But “Jimmie’s” long experience and wide acquaintance
will enable him to sift the grain from the chaff, as he has done so efficiently
on former like occasions. Os course “Jimmie” can hardly be expected to
please everybody, and he probably won't, but he will come nearer to keeping
the newspaper bunch in a reasonable condition of good nature than anyone
else.
□ TUMULTY SAYS SEE AMERICA
writing letters of thanks for police protection given Mr. Wilson, Mr. Tumulty
addressed one to “Maurice Jenkins, Chief of Police of Topeka,” whereas
the Topeka chief is Harvey Parsons. Jenkins is the only Democratic chief
Topeka has had in many a long year, and it is some twenty years since it
had him.
I FIRST BLIND MAN IN HOUSE
Thomas D. Schall of Minnesota
is the first blind man to be elected to
a seat in the lower branch of congress.
Mr. Schall’s life has been one of con
stant battle against circumstances.
Orphaned when an infant, he ran away
with a circus when nine years old.
From the day of his departure from
his home at Ortonville, Minn., he has
been fighting an unequal struggle. He
blacked boots and sold papers on Chi
cago’s streets, and later was a bare
back rider in a circus. When a young
man he returned to Minnesota, glad of
working for his board and a chance
to attend high school at Ortonville.
He won a scholarship at Hamline uni
versity in St. Paul. His ability as an
orator and baseball player give him
distinction. Mr. Schall then went
through the University of Minnesota,
became a lawyer and soon forged to
the front of the Minneapolis bar. His
was a fight without influence, political
or financial. He was fast acquiring the means of a comfortable livelihood for
himself and wife, when, in lighting a cigar at a lighter, an electrical shock
seared out his sight. The nerves were paralyzed, and now, although his
blue eyes are bright apd clear, they are dead.
“I spent the next year and all of our money in a fruitless search for my
lost sight,” said Mr. Schall. “I returned to Minneapolis ‘broke,’ worse than
‘broke,’ in debt and blind, but never discouraged.”
Among the United States senators
who play golf, Henry F. Lippitt stands
alone, for he has reduced the game
to its lowest mechanical terms and
plays it on a simplified basis that is
unequaled, at least in Washington. His
theory is that for a nonprofessional
golfer each club used adds just that
much to the complications. He says it
is a needless mental strain to have to
rummage through an outfit of a dozen
clubs, trying to select the one that
applies to the situation at hand. If
he has to carry a pair of calipers and
a transit and a couple of assistants to
determine at what angle he should
swat a dinky little gutta percha ball,
he would just as soon give up golf and
play parchesi or dominoes. So Lippitt
carries only three plain little clubs. He
owns no caddy bag and carries his
sticks himself, and all his caddy has
to do is to trot blithely along, point
ing out the quarry, like a hunting dog.
Secretary Tumulty, who accom
panied President W’ilson on his mid
western trip, is now an ardent advo
cate of “See America First.” Until
this trip Mr. Tumulty had never been
in any big city of the country west of
Pittsburgh, excepting Indianapolis,
which he caught a fleeting glimpse
of on the flying visit the president
paid to the Hoosier capital a year ago.
Having viewed and admired Cleve
land, Chicago, Milwaukee, Kansas City
and St. Louis, not to mention the Mis
sissippi river and the great lakes of
Erie and Michigan, Mr. Tumulty says
he feels it incumbent upon him to urge
all easterners to take a trip into the
United States and become acquainted
with the country.
He explained that before he went
to Washington he was too busy mak
ing a living in New Jersey to travel.
One echo of the president’s trip
has given Topeka a good laugh. In
JriN.RwiNT^N. GEORGIA.
BRIDAL 1 . SECRETS. I
v W '
Oh. night, did you say X
My love had grown false'-to me?
That her vows like a breath parsed away,
As the blossoms fall from a trfee?
Was it the Wind said, "Thy love is gone?”
False wind, thou wert never true!
The whip-poor-will plaints for the dawn,
Poor soul, was you- love false, too?
If there is ever a time in the mar
ried woman’s life when she is apt to
then for an hour or so to enjoy an
uninterrupted cigar, to chat with an
old friend he has unexpectedly en
countered. and whom he does no;
care to introduce to his young wife,
or, last but not least, to stretch his
legs for a five-mile tramp. He is quite
sure his absence is a relief to his
dearie, who is doing her best to get
over the shyness and newness of see
ing a man constantly lounging about
her boudoir. He believes she may
want to do an hour’s shopping or
spend that much time with the hair
dresser, or on the piazza chatting
with newly-made woman acquaint
ance. But alack and alas, what mere
man can understand the heart of a
bride or gauge the depth of folly she
may fall into if perchance a fit of lone-'
liness seizes her? If hubby remains
away a moment longer than the time
he has set to return, the fear seizes
her that he might be wearying of
her, perhaps.
In her walks or drives with hubby
she could not help but notice how
many fortune-telling places there were
on almost every street, even if he had
not called her attention to the fact by
commenting on it.
She certainly needs her hair curled
and her dainty fingers manicured, but
despite that need she hies herself to
the nearest seeress’ place she can
find to learn the secret thoughts of
her bridegroom's heart. The wily
fortune teller does not need to be
told, she sees at first glance that the
young visitor before her. with spick
and span new toggery from head to
foot, is a bride. She is quite prepared
for the faltering query: “I am great
ly in love with a—a —gentleman, and
I want to know if his love for me is—
is—waning. That is, if he does not
love me as much as he thought he
did,” etc. Os course the clever seeress
tells the young visitor a wonder for
tune, that the gentleman she loves has
just been wedded, and to a girl he
fairly adores; that there was another
girl fairly beside herself with rage be
cause she could not win him —an old
sweetheart of his —but for whom he
does not care a snap of his finger.
Her tongue runs on glibly until she
thinks she has told quite two dollars’
worth. The bride returns to her hotel
fairly radiant with joy—her doubts
all put to rout.
Young girls at the seaside may vis
it the fortune teller in groups just for
a jolly lark, but they attach no im
portance to her prophecies, what she
tells them goes in one ear and out of
the other, fading out of their minds
as quickly as a laugh ends on their
lips. They do not take the seeress
seriously as the bride does, they
have no secret worries that they must
have probed. The maid or the widow
will haggle over her price; the bride
will willingly pay any amount in rea
son to be assured that hubby is de
lighted with her, and that his love
will always be hers, strong, true and
unchanging.
It is an actual fact that many a
bride will go the rounds of all the
fortune tellers in the place to make
sure there has been no mistake made
as to her hubby’s being entirely satis
fied with his martial bargain, though
they had been self-conscious, and
certain of their sway over his heart
before marriage. Their visits to for
tune tellers is a secret many a bride
will never divulge in the after years.
She realizes her foolishness and is
ashamed of it. She always hopes
from the depths of her heart that hub
by will never find it out.
ADOPTING A BABY.
Something the heart must have to cher
ish.
Must love and joy and sorrow learn.
Something with passion clasp or perish
And in Itself to ashes burn.
How many hearts throb with joy as
old winter folds his tent like the Arab
and silently steals away. ‘‘Spring is
here!” many a mother cries out joy
fully. “That means taking baby in
his go-cart to the park. He shall sit
amid the warm green grass watching
the yellow buttercups, the daisies and
the butterflies flutter among the prim
roses. How happy I shall be just
watching him.” Ah! how very wonder
ful it is to be a mother —and have a
tiny human bejpg all your own to
love, ant, hug, watch and dream glori
ous day 4reams over!
The cMldk/ss wife likes to go to
the park-Vorgetting her loneliness in
watchA^tblithesome toddlers who
makel^^Hh in the hearts of hap
pier wojßfflgAs she sits in the park
watchb^l^^Va, many a woman con
ceifes tn^fea that it is all wrong
[for her to be*denied this boon of com
fort. Why not have a little child to
clasp to her bosom, too? The asylums
and orphanages are ful], of them. It
would be a blessing for some waif and
stray to find a home and a heart that
loved.
Childless wives broach the subject
to their husbands of adopting a baby
very hesitatingly. Where one will
lend his ear with patience to the
scheme, a hundred will crush her bud
ding hopes with one blow. She may
coax and plead, but in this instance
her cajolery seldom accomplishes the
longed-for result. Such men, as a rule,
sigh to hear childish laughter, see a
sunny little face, listen to the patter
of baby feet and lisping tongue in
their silent home. If they were given
offspring of their own, no men would
or could rejoice more, but —bringing
up another man’s child has its grave
disadvantages.
As babies all human beings are
sweet, lovable and innocent, but who
can tell what the years ahead may
bring forth? If little or nothing is
known of the parents of the waif,
sheltered at the foundling home, a cer
tain amount of risk is taken in bring,
ing him into one’s home and heart.
All the tender love and bright home
surroundings have little weight or
influence with the lad who inherits ten
dencies he will never be able to over
come.
Where one returns love for love and
gratitude, another will prove to be
thankless, unloving, with a longing
to break away to mingle with those
more congenial. The wren will still be
a wren, though you clothe him in the
plumage of the bird of paradise.
To give a homeless lad a roof and
the care of loyal benefactors is a
noble experiment. If no tie binds the
lad is a free agent to stay or go as
he wills, but, if adopted, links are
forged which cannot be easily snapped
asunder even though he should prove
untrustworthy. While nine waifs out
of ten repay a thousandfold, in love,
the devotion lavished on them by fos
ter parents, the tenth child grows up
so much of a torment that those who
have taken unto themselves the re
sponsibility of rearing him wish from
the depths of their hearts that they
had not rushed into the folly of adopt
ing the baby instead of taking time
to observe him expand from the baby
to the child and into the lad ere they
took the irrevocable step.
TOOLS OF CIRCUMSTANCE.
For they alone have need of sorrow.
And they alone are poor,
For whom in life Love’s holy angel
Hath opened not the door.
A poor seamstress who works hard
and whose daughter is in a department
store said to me the other day: “L
promised to give my girl a birthday
present. That day rolls around soon.
Now what do you suppose she wants
me to give her? You never in the
world could guess, so I’ll tell you. I
have been hinting to her that my poor
purse might allow her a nice, suitable
pair of everyday shoes, that she could
go to work in and look decent instead
of shabbily, as she does now. She
turned from me with a dissatisfied look
and asked quickly: ‘Mother, won’t you
please grant my greatest wish? I long
for a few paint brushes and materials
to try with!’ Wasn’t I angry to hear
such a foolish request, and we poor
as church mice? Soundly I upbraided
her, coming out and telling her that
her mind must be affected. She must
imagine she was living in an air castle
of gold! Nothing I said daunted her
nor changed her longing in the least.
She became so downcast it worried me
night and day. Finally I saw my way
out of the difficulty which my kind
heart had brought about. I will give
my girl the money—three dollars —
which will be her gift from me. She
will have a perfect right to spend it as
she pleases. I will not bother my head
any more about it, I concluded.”
The purse was empty when the.
three dollars was left beside the alarm
clock on her table. For days after
never was a word spoken between
mother and daughter, after their hours
of toil, as to what was done with the
amount. The girl still wore shabby
shoes and a shabbier dress. Her
cheeks were a little paler, showing un
mistakably that she had remained up
long past midnight. She was up at the
first streak of dawn, long before others
were astir, and out of the house,
threading her way on a mission of
heart interest to her. She did not
mind the task of art nor the heavy
parcel she carried, which she put safe
ly in her room. She had a better ap
petite than ever before, and it was
easy to see that a new ambition lent
buoyancy to the worker’s steps.
Circumstances were against her
when her mother upbraided the young
toiler for idling money and her time
away with paint boxes, which she had
at once bought and studied over in
doors and out.
Art became her calling. Her talent
was one of success, a gift. She had
free rein to mold her future talents
despite her early hardships of being
kept back in toil’s beaten track. Proud
was that poor mother that her girl had
made her own way in the world to for
tune s top round. J
be a bit foolish, it’s
during those days
the bridal couple
are whiling away
their honeymoon
at some fashion
able summer re
sort. Os course,
the happy bride
groom is all devo
tion, and is de
lighted to spend
every moment
possible with his
bride, but, even
the best of men
will frame up
some sort of an
excuse to get off
alone now and
Dressy Suit in Taffeta
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The nearly-grown miss this year
shares with her elders the charm that
lies in dressy suits of taffeta silk. As
befits the modes for youthful wearers,
suits made for her are less elaborate
than those designed for her older sis
ters, but they have decorations enough
to be interesting.
Coats in these silk models are made
in a great diversity of styles, but all
of them may be classed as short.
Skirts are not as full as'those made
for indoor wear, and depend for em
bellishment upon bands of tucks rath
er than draperies. Colors are attrac
tive, with fairly light shades of green
and blue, as well as lighter tans and
grays, much in evidence.
An old fashion which has been re
vived appears in the full quillings of
box-plaited silk with “pinked” edges
that are used for trimming both skirts
and coats. These quillings help out
in achieving the popular flare at the
bottom of coats and in supplying the
banded effects and horizontal lines
that place the otherwise plain skirts
in the mode.
A very pretty example of the taffeta
suit, as developed for a miss in the
Group of Modish Black Hats
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Among tailored hats the always pop- I
Ular black has more to recommend it j
this season than it can usually claim.
It takes high art and fine materials,
as a rule, to save the black hat from
being commonplace.. But the present
season has developed a fad for lus
trous surfaces, almost everything in
millinery is shiny, and black is re- .
deemed from its somberness by itsdl
brilliance.
In hats, and in many of their tr^fc'g
mings, a black lacquer or varnish^H^ h
ers the shape and the wings ocjM
that so often trim it. EveJ® Vj
have a polished surface majH '« i ,
method of treating them, Jh tW
they are designated as jM
ribbons. This matter-dH ~ ; J.jjO
accurately descriptivflß -J;
keeping witli the
tilings there is a cjM.
in workmanship,
hats of today.
account for ^9
which the
with gr e at^,
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neighborhood of seventeen years, is
shown here. It is simple enough to
be made at home, and an ambitious
girl may even undertake it for herself,
by the aid of a pattern. The skirt is
plain except for three tucks between
the waist and knees, and is cut to flare
with most of its fullness at the sides
and in the back. It is shoe-top length
and has a three-inch hem. There is a
girdle of taffeta made of a wide bias
piece at the waist, to be worn over the
plain narrow belt that supports the
skirt.
The straight little coat is set on to
a small yoke. It is ornamented with
a group of four tucks, near the bot
tom, also. The sleeves are cut to
widen toward the hands. In many
suits the widened sleeve is finished
with a border of velvet, but in this
model the fullness of the sleeve is
confined near the hand by rows of
shirrings. The shirrings form a cuff,
which is headed by a band of velvet.
The neck is finished with a flaring
collar and a tie of the silk. A collar
of scalloped organdie overlays the silk
one, both of them opening in a small
V at the front and wired to stand up
at the back. 1
