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■ -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,