Newspaper Page Text
■ -V—„
| Little
/ By Caroline Little.
xxxxxjicxieieieKMxxxxxxxxxx * xxx
CRESSES
Zlr w h°’*l buy my
A/ water • crossesl”
* cried a voice un
*X the win-
dows.
' "Oh, mam
ma.” said Violet,
“can I atop that
c> *' dear boy and
bay some creates? You know papa
likes them, and he’ll be at home to
night."
-■* Jaaseb t<r stop him.-”"- I
"Oh mamma, please let me!”
’’Well, run quickly, or he will be
g®ne.”
Running to the door, Violet called:
"Little boy, little boy, stop, I want
creates for papa.”
The little fellow, of not m ore than
eight years, looked up at the vision of
white that stood on the threshold, and
smiled.
"Come right in,” said Violet.
Mrs. Fenwick stopped to the door.
"What do you ask for your crosses,
littls man?” sho said.
"Two bunches for five cents; please
buy some. I haven’t sold one, no
body wants them." Ay 3 , tears filled
his eyes. V iolet gave her mother a
look, and Mrs. Fenwick said:
"I will take all, how many bunches
have yon?”
“Ten."
Janet came and took the cresses;
and as Mrs. Fenwick handed him the
money, she said:
"You are a little fellow to bo out
» alone, where do you live?”
"In Lamb’s conrt. I never came
up so far alone before, but mamma is
ill, end the doctor said she must have
wine and milk; and we are poor, for
she can’t sow now; she didn’t want
me to come, but papa told me to take
care of her.” Here he broke down
and cried, adding between his sobs:
"I must rnn home now, or she will bo
worse, and I thank you, and—and,
will you buy some to-morrow?"
Mrs. Fenwick was need to the city
impostors, bnt this seemed such a dear
little boy. Violet whispered: "Mam
ma, please let him come in and have
a lunch.”
Her mother "What did
for yorffr mother,”
; ssicßflrc. Fenwick. "Where is yohr
father?" she asked, as she took him
down to tho dining-room.
"He has gone to bo with tho Lord,
mamma says,” he answered.
"What is your name?” sho asked.
"Almon.”
After he had eaten all that he could,
Mrs. Fenwick gave him a basket with
rolls, oranges, and a package of tea,
saying:
"Come to-morrow, and wo will buy
more."
"Thank yon, oh, so much,” said tho
little fellow.
"Good-by, little Water-cresses,"
Violet called after him, as ho trudgod
down the street.
When Mr. Fenwick returned home
after a week’s absonce ho was met at
the door by his pot, who almost forgot
“Little Water-cresses” in her joy. At
the table he said: "Those are uncom
monly fine cresses.”
"Oh, papa!” began Violet, and in a
torrent of words she told all.
In a small attic room Mrs. Tracy lay
and waited. "Oh! I did wrong to let
Almon go,” she murmured. "Will he
ever come back?” Every moment
seemed an hour, but at last she beard
his step, and he rushed eagerly into
the room.
"Look, mamma,- look!" he cried,
and ho laid the basket and money on
tiie bed.
"Mamma, dear, yon said the Lord
would care for us, and He has!”
The next morning Violet said:
"Papa, don’t youthink he will come?”
"I hope so, darling, but often we
cannot believe all that these street
arabs say.”
"Oh! papa, he isn’t a street arab;
he’s a darling little cuaiy-hsired boy.”
"Water - cresses, water - cresses,”
called a voiee nnder the windows.
"There he is,” cried Violet. "Ob!
papa, I told you he was no ’poster
like the arabs.”
"Here is your basket,” tho little
fellow said to Violet, after Janet bad
brought him in; "and mamma thanks
and blesses you, and I hope you’ll
like these cresses, and yesterday she
ate two oranges, and I bought her
some milk.”
"Tell us all about your mother,”
said Mr. Fenwick.
"Mamma is ill,” he said, taking off
his cap and putting it under bis arm.
"And is your father dead?” asked
the lawyej.
"Yes, papa died two years ago; he
was good, but grandpa didn’t think
so; he was good, mamma said so,” he
added decidedly. -
"What is your full name?”
"Almon Fenwick Tracy; Fenwiok
was my mamma’s name, and I was
called after her papa.”
Mr. Fenwiok started up. "What
is your mother’s first name?”
"Violet.”
He turned to his wife, saying in a
low tone: "Uncle Almon’s Violet
married Tom Tracy!”
"Little Water-cresses" had a fine
breakfast, and then to his surprise tho
I lawyer went back with him. It caused
a sensation in Lamb’s court when the
carriage and fine span of horses drov*
up to the door of the tenement where
Mrs. Tracy and Almon lived. Mr.
Fenwick Aras-'much agitated as he
thought it possible that this might be
the homo of hie beautiful cousin whom
they had heard nothing of for ten
years.
"Cousin Roger!” exclaimed a weak
: voice from a bed under the eaves as
i Almon led him into the room.
"Violet," heeried, "is this yon?”
; When all had been explained the
: little boy said: "Oh, mamma, aren’t
; yon glad yon lot mo go out to sell
> cresses?”
"The Lord be pffdsed,” cried his
I mother, "for He pot it into your
, heart to go, and guided your footsteps
to the right door.”
So Violet found a dear oousiff and
playmate in "Little Waler-cresses,”
and for the root of their lives one root
sheltered them both.
; The Last Leap,
By Walter Emils Tltns.
T T was a worm, lazy summer after-
I noon. Above the treetops sway-
I ing gently to the breese, little
V" fleecy clouds leisurely glided on
a topas sky. The sun dotted ’ with
Seat blotches of gold the lawn in
mt of The Birches, and the frolick
ing windAhat rustled the leaves in tho
trees ana sent shivers through the
: grass, caressed the folds of a littlo
white dress on the shoulders of a lit
tle white miss demurely sitting on the
step of The Birches.
She was all pink and white. Her
eyes—deep, violet eyes—were far
away, and she seemed to be listening
for some distant sound. But every
thing was quiet; even the birds had
been overcome by the great majesty
of silence and had ceased their chirp
ing. Nature was asleep.
Disappointed, she picked up some
embroidery in her lap and busied
herself with her work. It was a pho
tograph flame. The oval opening ,
was encircled by a laurel wreath, all
embroidered but one leaf.
On the piazza, in a high-back rock
er, grandmamma bad fallen asleep
with a book in her hands.
"Grandma," said the girl, "did the
boy bring up the mail this morning?”
Mrs. Cateret woke with a start.
"What is it, Helen?"
"I didn’t know you were asleep,
‘mannio.’ Was there no letter for me
this morning?”
"No, dear, but grandfather will
soon be home and he may bring you
up one. Do you expect a letter?”
"Yes, I haven’t heard from Alice in
a week."
"What au assiduous correspon
dence between Aliee and yon! It’s
getting dark, dearie. Don’t you
think you bad better leave that em
broidery until to-morrow?” .
Moor. fIF
Against the dark background of the
trees her face, profiled in the ideal
purity of its lines, resembled that of
1 a blond madonna. All dressed in
white, sho scorned to float upon the
air with sweet languor; she placed
her chin into her littlo hand and
stared pensively into the deepening
shadow. Suddenly she started, afar
the sound of wheels was heard.
"Mannie, I hoar grandpa coming.”
A littlo later the carriage drew up
to tho steps and old General Carteret,
as lively ns when he was torty, ran up
to whore Mannio sat and kissed her.
He kissed the "baby” on both cheeks
and sat on tho railing of tho piazza
swinging his foot.
"Any letters for me, grandpa?”
asked the baby.
"No, dear; nothing but tho New
York papers to-night.”
The "baby” went back and aat
upon the steps, looking at the west,
all ablaze with the netting sun, but
her eyes seemed to be beyond that
sea of Are, far away, loat.
Suddenly she listened; the General
was saying:
"What was the first, name of that
young Lieutenant who stopped here s
week last summer with his sister,
Mannio?”
"Rudolph,” said Mannio. "He is
the brother of Helen’s chum, Alice..
His name is Rudolph Carter Williams
—why?"
<. There was a moment of suspense.
Helen had again taken up her em
broidery. The last leaf of-the wreath
was almost finished.
"He was killed in Monday’s fight,"
said the General. "His face had
been shot away. They identified
him by means of a photograph of a
girl which he carried with him. On
the back of it was written ’To Ru
dolph,’ and under, ‘lf. love were the
only thing.* ”
The embroidery frame slipped from
tho hands of Helen and rolled down
the steps. Like a rose with a broken
stem her head fell been againbt the
post and she slid off the side of the
steps to the ground.
The General nicked her up in hie
arms. "What is.fe. "baby?”
‘She opened wide ter eyes and as a
smile came over her beautiful face,
"It needed but one more leaf,” she
’ ___________
A T»O-U«*1 Dea’s Vsaralneas.)
From South Tottenham a natural
history tale reaches me about a dog
which lost both of its right lege and
yet managed to gat along all right on
tbe other two which were left, and
which were in more that one senso its
left lege. My correspondent says
that he takes tbe "facta” from
the Christian Globo, and that paper
quotes tWWfrom Nature:
"In starting to ruu the Jog quickly
gets up, balances itself on its two
legs, and very rapidly hops off in the
, style of a large, agile bird. With
. this strange mode of rapid progres
sion it now attends to sheep exactly
i in the way of an ordinary unjured
i dog.”—London Loader.
I TALES OF FLOCK I
| AND ADYENTUBK |
lleß<-ur<i by n I.mil of BeTun.
Just outside a village among the
Western Catskills, where the writer
prepared for college, there wat ana
probably is to-day a large mill-dam,
and, running from it, down to the
mill a quarter of a mile away, a deep
and wide "race.” At tlie time of
which I write there were no houses
uearbrthe race thou somesix.or seven
hundred yards. One day in summer
five or six children, their ages ranging,
from six to twelvo years, were playing
in the field near the dam, and, tempted
too near, one of the little girls fell into
the swift-running water, just where it,
swept ont of tho pond and started on
its dash for the mill-wheels.
The rapid current carried her
swiftly down ths stream, and her
companions, after a moment of tarsal
stricken silence, want
across the field, and left her to tfl
mercy of the swift water. Bat notaff
of them. There was in' the party a
little boy about seven yearj old,
named, for tbe purposes of this
Charlie Barwood. He too ran,
.not away from his unfortunate play
mate. As fast as his little legs coaid
carry him he sped along the bank (If
the race, gradually drawing ahead at
the little girl as she was carried down
by the current. A few rods bolgw
there was a single log thrown across
tho ditch at a height of about two and
a halt feet above the water. The
little runner reached thia place a tew
seconds ahead of the girl, who had
already been nnder water two or th|M
times.
As he ran, he had pulled off his
coat, and now held it in hia lushd
ready to nse as a life-line. Bnt"s
, glance at her, as she was swept toward
him, showed that this would be use
less, since the poor child was too
nearly unconscious to grasp it. What
a man might have done with ease was
a mighty task for a boy only aeven
years old, and the risk of what he did,
when bis strength and size are teftn
into account, was very great.
Running out upon the log and
throwing himself prone upon
held ou with one hand while the iW!e
girl, borne swiftly downward, passed
just under him.' Swinging almost off
tho log, he reached and with bis free
haud grasped aud held the wide collar
ler dress.
Tho sudden strain and the tagging
of the current almost loosed his bold
upon the log. He swnng down and
hung with hie feet in tbe water, while
with one arm he clung to the log, and
. bold the girl. -KlTetotel
charge; but after a moment’s rest ne
began to work his way back along the
log, taking care that the face of his
playmate was kept above the water.
It was a task to try the strength of a
gymnast, but ho accomplished it; and
when some older people arrived, a
few minutes later, hia little charge
lay on the grass, pillowed with -his
coat, while he was putting in practise
tbe primary department lessons in
"First Aid For the Drowning.” y.
1 have not seen Charlie for years,
and if ho still lives ho U now just old
enough to have been with Dewey at
Manila or with Roosevelt at San Joan.
But in neither of those places could
he do a braver deed than be did when
only a little lad in kniekerbocken
among the Western Catskills. —Grace
Ferguson, in the Voice.
MeLaustya’s Fatafal Rida.
The death of Lieutenant McLaugh
lin, of the Signal Corps, who diedTof
yellow lover at Santiago, recalls a dra
matic incident, in which he
of tho principal actors,
campaign in Porto Rico.
Lieutenant McLaughlin had charge
of a squad which built a telegraph Un*
along tho route of the American ad
vance on tho night of August 19. Tbe
Signal Corps men could not keep pace
with tbe advance of the infantry and
artillery, in command of General
Brooke, and when the latter faced a
line of Spanish intrenchmenta tho tele
graph live was two miles in tho rear.
At 1 o’clock of Angnat 13 tho mas*
aage camo to Lieutenant
station that the peace protocol bad
been signed. There was no way to get
to Brooks but ride it, and tho Lieu
tenant, accompanied by an ordsrJj|
started to make tho trip.
his horse, he started at a gallop,
his ride will go down in history
of the most dramatic ever made on e
field of battle.
When be reached tho lines of infan
try that wore supporting ths artillery
he was told that the guns were about
to open fire on the enemy, and, real
ising that ho had to be quick or the
battle would begin, and knowing tbe
consequences of such notion after the
protocol had been signed, ho sank his
spurs into the horse and went on,
leaving bis orderly, who was mounted
on a mule, for in the rear.
Still on he went, and before 1.80
o'clock he reached the artillery batta
lion and found General Brooke stand
ing beside one of Battery B’s guns,
while the gunner bad his hand on the
lanyard ready to pull.
The message was delivered, the fir
ing prevented, and what might have
been a terrible battle stoppod.
After tho campaign dosed in Porto
Rico Lieutenant McLaughlin was sent
to Cuba, end was in service there un
til his death.
Swam a Hirer to Bnv. the Train.
Ileury Honey, a watchman of the.
Caundiau Transcontinental Railway,
on the Cherry Creek section, iu Brit
ish Columbia, prevented a serious dis
aster ou a recent Sunday morning.
j About midnight the Cherry Creek
I bridge caught fire aud whs destroyed.
■ Houey aud his wife were tho ouly ones
i within fifty miles of the place. Com
[ iug west toward Cherry Creek was the
i limited express, and approaching oast
[ ward was the excursion train carrying
i <OO American journalists on their re
turn trip.
The stream was swollen by heavy
rains and the current was swift, but
1 Honey knew that the only way to save
, the excursion train was to swim across
- and roach tho signal station on the
other side. He started ont. and after
1 a hard struggle succeeded in making
* a landing on tbe opposite bank.
He reached tbe flag station, 900
yards distant, and signalled tho train ■
which was rapidly approaching. When '
the women journalists on the train
( heard of Honey's heroism they crowd
ed around to shake hands with him,
and some of the men pressed him to
take money, but Honey refused. He
, wanted to return quickly to flag tbe
train on the other side, but fainted
from exhaustion before he could reach
the burned bridge. Meanwhile his
wife had flagged the limited.
Bitten by Flares Fish.
V~7abes Perkins and Joel Harkness
I vad one of the most exciting experi
ences of their lives while fishing in
Cedar Lake, in Indiana, recently.
r Tho fish were ravenons and seemed
numberless. The sport was exciting
and-the bottom of the boat was soon a :
floundering, splashing mass. Sudden-'
' ly Perkins strnok what was apparont
' ly the king of the tribe and a desper
ate light began. After a half hour's
work a big flve-poundor was hauled
to the side of the boat anti Harkness
reached ont with the landing net to
capture him. |
The baas made a last furious strug
gle, and the men could see the hook
Awes nearly torn loose. Harkness, in
hia haste to get the bass, leaned ont
i too far and capsized the boat. Ijiktho *
I mix-up tho bag of frogs nsed asbait
, caught on Perkins's belt aud hnug
[ there as the men clnng to the keel. I
All at once SlhkiDhtHterod a cry of ■
, pain and dashed his-hand into the i
, water toward his leg. “They’re bit
i ing me,” be cried. Then the anglers ■
, discovered they were surrounded by a 1
tremendous school of bate, attracted
r by tbe frogs that were kicking aud i
jumping in the bag. Tho fish seemed
to have net the slightest fear of the
i men, and plunged and darted around
i them, making efforts to climb on the
. boat or right tbe vessel futile. Hun
! dreds of bass, big and little, cut the
i water around the nearly submerged ■
fishermen, dnshiug against them, bit- i
ing and fighting. For fully fifteen i
' minutes the men wore in. tho water j
endeavoring to drive away tbeir tor
mentors and yelling lustily in tho
meantime. Another fishing party
, hoard the cries and came to the rescue
just in time. \
■■■Jlotb Serkins and Itarkness ware
P TWeroiy Mraunios aua noerMed, oui
i were able to work the nwit day. They
i say it is the first time they ever knew
i Coder Lake was inhabited by man-eat
ing fish.
A Brava Deed.
By no menus all the heroic actions
' performed in these days sre done by
1 soldiers. The policeman may be as
' prompt to risk his life an if ho wore a
1 military uniform. Early on the
morning of March 13, 1890, fire broke
ont in a tenement house in Philadel
phia. Tho occupants of the third
floor were cut off from escape byway
' of the stairs, and some of them sought
to get out of the window. One of
' them, William Marlin by name, was
overcome by smoko while hanging
' from the.tliird-story window, and fell
1 toward the stoue pavement.
Below atood Policeman Thomas
Murphy. As Marlin dropped, Mnr
, phy saw that if bis fall was not broken
he would probably bo killed. Mur
phy bad nothing whatever with which
, to break tho man’s fall—nothing, that
j Is, save his own body, and that he
rnshed forward without a thoqght that
tbe fall, as Marlin was descending
through the sir heavily, migfet kill
him or disable him for life. He sim
ply extended his arms, and received
tho full force of the man's weight.
Both fell, and Marlin rolled over to
the pavement with an injury, not
serious, to hie nose and head. Mur
phy was not at all badly hurt; bis
-ooasradss sought to take him to the
hospital, bnt he refused to go, saying
that bo was "all right.” His escape
from serions injury was almoat mir
aculous. _ ,
Boon after, reporters, who had been
told of his deed, began to flock around
him.
I "Poohl pooh!” was all he would
say; "anybody would do that it ho
got the ohanoe.”
Tho Floen-da-ils In Fraaee.
The history of tho fleurs-de-lis in
Franco goes back to tho first Chris
tian monarch, Clovis. Tho fleurs-do
11s have boon found in the Abbaye de
Saint-Germain dee Pres and on the
tomb of Fredegonde, who died in 597.
Several portraits of Charles le Ohauve
exist, showing him with tho fleur-de-
Ho in his crown. In 979 Lothaire for
tbe first time used a seal with the
sceptres surmounted by a fleur-de-lis.
Hugh Capet and all his successors
wore them, aud ho was but oue of fifty
successive monarchs who nsed the Hs
, in France, where, though three differ
ent races succeeded one another in tho
oountiy'a rule, it remained tho royal
emblem for over 1900 years. It was
not nntil 1179, however, that tho arms
of Franco were first formally men
tioned. French kings, returning from
tbe crusades, brought with them East
ern customs; tournaments were intro
duced iu imitation of Arabs and Per
sians. Then Louis lo Jeune, arrang
ing for the consecration of bis son
Philippe Auguste at Rheims, ordered
I that his garments be covered with
fleurs-de-Ha, and after this tho kings
wore them without number.
? NEWS AND NOTESS
§ FOR WOMEN $
Invested by the Queen.
Nurse Isabella Smith, of London,
has been invested by Her Majesty
with the Order of tho Royal Red
Cross at Windsor Castle. Miss Smith
i has served in tho naval hospitals in
England, and was for three years in
the hospital at Malta. Tho coveted
cross lias been bestowed upon her for
her courageous bearing when iu
charge of the nursing staff on the hos
pital ship which accompanied the
| Bonin expedition. Miss Nmith is now
i at tho Royal Naval Hospital. Haslar.
Tight Sleeves Versus aioves.
No allowances are made for gloves
by tho dressmakers. The newest
sleeves cover tho knuckloa and are
caught ronud the thumb just like old
world inittous. With these alcoves a
four-button glove is out of tho ques
tion and wo shall hove to revert to
the oue-button glove of tho sixties.
At the wristi tho now sleeves are so
tight that eveu tho shortest glove
would be in the way, yet it not nt
all the thing to wear long gldve* out
side the sleeves. Tho solution of the
problem is Hibernian, to say the least.
Wear short sleeves aud long gloves,
rucked to tho elbow.
A New Vasblon Idas.
The makers of fashions are trying
to introduce a now idea, suggested
doubtless by tho prevailing mode of
long tunics, loose in 'front. The new
fashion is to induce one to wear cer
tain frocks without corsets. The
frock is to have its own corset —in
I other words, it is to bo stiffened so ns
to make the uno of stays superfluous.
The stiffening is to be done so as to
make tbe lines of tho back curve
, gracefully, leaving tho lino of the
front long and supple without fitting
closely. Whetbet the patrons of tho
, "artists” who have evolved this idea
1 will consent to adopt it remains to bo
. seen. But it is certainly original.
Mexican Eace ln<lustry.
The methods of manufacture in tho
' popular Mexican drawn loco work are
directly opposed to those of most
lace makers. Instead of weaving the
gossamer fabric from single threads
stitches are picked ont of a solid
piece of tho finest lineu cloth, leaving
the remainder in some artistic design.
This process is on extremely trying
one, but the results are exquisite.
Japanese lineu is the fabric gener
ally employed iu this character of
i work. ft is ns fine ns silk, and
' adapted to tbe most delicate patterns.
Home of the designs are so elaborate
and perfectly executed as to be
scarcely distinguishable from the real
Battenberg make.
All sorts of conventional patterns
■■a reproduced from tho rarest and
CMoli j •* ork
of this high standard is not so general
in demand ns the art embroideries,
including doilies, oontr cs, tray cloths
and table corers.
Howard of a Willing Mother.
A young student at one of tbe large
ark institutions decided this winter to
try for a prize. He was under twenty,
and his competitors were all older
than ho. Ho wrote his mother about
it, begging her to come and pose for
him, saying that he know ho could
win if only she wore his subject. Hho
had a largo family at home to look
after, aud a small boy haidly two
mouths old. Moreover, the spring
had come, never an easy time for a
mother to break away, pick up a small
baby, and establish herself alone in n
distant torn, merely to sit as a model
for a sou. Most women would have
hesitated, as hoped-for prizes being
uncertain quantities, particularly for
boys still in their teens, and present
homo duties being, according to all
rules of logic, paramount. But this
mother did uot hesitate. Her son had
asked her to come, and so proved a
rare loyalty. That was enough for
her. At greet inconvenience to her
self she went, though cheerfully, and
the picture was painted. Now the
papers announce that the yonng bov
painter has won tho prize! This will
send him for a two-years' course of
study in Paris.
It is like some old story of the mas
ters, and certainly few sweeter stories
of painters and their mothers have
ever been told.—Harper's Bazar.
Popalar XTom.n ol America.
Edward Bok, replying to a corre
spondent asking v ho will be the most
widely beloved voinau of the nine
teenth century, considers Martha
Washington as having a very firm
place in tho affections of the people.
"Naturally,” he says, “the conspicu
ous position accorded the wife ot a
President of the United States gives
rare opportunities for a woman to at
tract and hold* the love of a nation,
and in this respect Mrs. McKinley
has been singularly successful. But,
after all, a woman's qualities as a
woman must remain the strongest
forces to her elaims of respect and
affection. It is not alone because
Dolly Madison was the wife of James
Madison that Americans hold her
memory in tender regard as a woman
of unexamplod heroism. Lucy Webb
Hayes won the respect aud love of
thousands of people on grounds other
then by right of tier title as the wife
of the President.
"It is not because Frances Folsom
Cleveland is the wife of an cx-Presi- 1
dent of tho United States that she
holds so large a place iu the affections '
of tho American people. Os tho many
daughters of the Presidents ouly oue
is remembered—Nellie Grant; and i
yot a President’s daughter is only a
whit less conspicuous in tho eyes of
the country than is Ler mother.
Harriet Lane, as the niece of James i
Buchanan, occupied officially tho rela- I
tiou of a President's daughter, aud a i
few young women have won for a
President’s administration so largo a
share of the arfec*ions of the people.
And ‘Winnie’ Davis won the love of
every Southerner. Harriet Beecher
Stowe, Louisa May Alcott, Frances
E. Willard, Clara Barton, Margaret
Bottomessnd Maud Bullington Booth
also have secured pla?oe iu the hearts
of the people.”—Ladies' Home Jour
nal.
Th. Needlework Cornerstone.
There was laid in London recently
the cornerstone of a building which
has many claims to interest American
as well ns English women, firstly, be
cause the building of which tho corner
stone is the forernnner will be de
voted to the development of aitistio
needlework among indigent gentle
women, and secondly, because Queen
Victoria’s third daughter, the Princess
Christian, is President of tho Royal
Sohool of Art Needlework, which is to
be housed in tho building when it ia
completed. Princess Christian has
been President of the sooiety since its
inception aud has raised 870,000 to
ward the fund for its erection.
Tho school was founded in 1872,
and is the pioneer ih work of this
kind. The object aimed at was the
two fold one of restosufe4lie nearly
lost art of ornamental uetdYework .to . „
its proper place among the decorative *
arts', and at tho same time providing
remunerative employment for edu
cated women who were dependent on
their own exertions for a living.
The school Las gone from sstacess
to success, though housed in all sorts •
of uncomfortable quarters, hired from
time to time as it outgrew them, and
now that a suitable edifice is at last in
sight plans are being made for still
greater usefulness.
The school has become an authority
in affairs of the needle and applica
tions for hints on art needlework
come to it from all parts of the world.
Its influence on this line of work in
America was first felt after tho Cen
tennial Exposition at Philadelphia,
where many artistic specimens of em
broidery were shown, and it has since
furnished instructors for decorative.,
art societies in New York, Boston,
Philadelphia, San Francisco and
Chicago. Women trained at this
royal school have also gone to Aus
tralia, Africa, India, South America
and other countries, and have spread
their knowledge of the art they had
acquired, many of them securing very
lucrative positions. Tho number of
private pupils taught by the school
and its branches number nearly
15,000.
Gossip.
Miss Maria Mitchell, formerly of
Vassar College, is a very bright as
tronomer.
The only woman of royal lineage
who is known to hold the title of M.
D. is Qaeeu Amalie of Portugal.
Jeanette Schwerin, tbe most prom
inent representative of the Woman's
movement in Germarfy,-is dead.
Mrs. Brown Davis is one of tho
chief computers engaged upon tho
nafltical almanac in tho Naval Observa
tory iu Washington.
Mrs. Edith Poycr, a resilcut of
Woodstock, 111., indulges in an odd
fancy—she keeps a mouse farm for
her own amusement.
The Empress of Japan is distin
guished for her clever manipulation
of the koto, a Japanese instrument
resembling the zither.
Mrs. May Wright Bewail, the new
President of the International Coun
cil of Women, is mistress of three
languages besides her own.
Miss Florence M. Lyon, fellow in
botany at tho University of Chicago,
has received au appointment as in
structor of botany at Smith College.
Among the delegates at the Inter
national Council of Women was Dr.
Ida Kahn, a Chinese woman, who was
educated at Ann Arbor by American
missionaries.
That the British Museum is now
open on Sundays and holidays is duo
to the Queen, who interested herself
in the question of making the building
free to the public on those days and
gave orders to that effect.
It is well known that the Princess
of Wales and her two sisters were
early trained in all domestic economics.
They had to make their own gowns
when at home, and the Princess of
Wales has always been an industrious
worker. She has become an expert
bookbinder. ‘
Miss Amelia Kussner recently fin- -
ished miniatures of the Osar and
Otarina. They we -e so pleased with
Miss Kuasner’s wo> k thatAthsy seel
her autographed photographs of them
selves, and the Czarina presented Miss
Kussner with a bracelet of diamonds
and rubies os a special mark of ap
preciation.
meaning. From th. Shops.
Beautiful crystal buttons set with
variously colored stones.
Fino white maliue veils with smal
embroidered dots closely spaced.
Cheeks, stripes and figured eflbote
in toils du norde for fsnoy waists.
Grey ostrich feather boas in short
and long lengths for evening wear.
Flexible gold chains, sot with ame
thysts, torquoise, pearls and crystal.
Loug scarfs to match or in contrast
to the gown, which are to be draped
gracefully around the shoul<]grs.
Mohair gowub iff white and oolore
trimmed with innumerable rowe of
atitclnug or plaiu or fanay||M>ds.
AU varieties of light-weight tucked
materials In combination with narrow
lace inserting or fine embroidery.
Costumes of white crepe de chine
showiug detached figures of rieh
blond loco applied in the form of gur- ‘
lands.
Broad aMortmenta of white and
delicately colored allovers for geueral
trimmings made of taffeta, satin aud
net.-—Dry Goods Economist,
