Newspaper Page Text
8
FILMY SUMMER GIRLS.
HOW THEY REVEL IS THE DIA
PHAVOIS.
Gon n. Mint Suucr.l Fragility.
Southern Women Set the Style.
Black and White Give Color* a
done Race—Tenilen*j of W'atntn to
Hatch the Skirt—The Rage for
Seedleork—l.ove of Fanhion Out
weigh* Sympathy for Toller*.
New York. Aug. 2.—The wardrobe Is
demode. Indeed, this season which does
not Include from one to half a dozen
thin frocks of some sort, and so uni
versally becoming are found diaphan
ous effects that even grandmamas
are taking to them. At all the fash
ionable watering places the dearest old
ladies are seen in airy violet or black
and white gowns running to the same
ornamentation though in a modified
degree, as those of their juniors; but i
their black net or muslin or mull man
tles give a pretty maternal touch to |
effects sometimes a shade too Juvenile.
Small maidens of six and ten, act as a
foil, walking demurely in pale pink, ]
blue or yellow organdies, with tiny
lace-edged frills and threadings of ,
black velvet ribbon. The motif of the i
thin gown is generally to increase the j
look of delicacy at every point. There- '
I 1
/■/ x v
THREE AUGUST EVENING TOILETS.
fore, the most fragile laces are used,
the finest knife pleating, open-work
yokes are left unlined and gauze rib
bons of a falry-like texture are em
ployed for bows and sashes.
Borne of these thin ribbons, which in
a certain open weave go under the
name of “grenadine," recall, with their
embroidered flowers, or shadowy paint
ed designs, the beribboned glories of
the long ago. It is observed, too. that
they are mainly seen on the toilettes
of the Southern belles who yearly in
vade our summer resorts. “You see,’’
says a New Orleans belle, who gra
ciously permits three of her prettiest
frocks to be shown on this page, "ve
Louisiana people stick to the old Creole
notions for summer wear; the thin
ness possible materials, the palest col
ors. and as little additional trimming
as possible.”
Three Bewitching; Frock*.
And here a word on the three be
witching little frocks, which are dis
played in the group picture. All are
fashioned with evening intent, but with
each is supplied a high throated "tuck
er” of white tucked organdy or or
gandy and lace, which permits after
noon wearing. A single slip of ivory
white taffeta does duty for all three;
and slip, materials, trimmings and
making included the dainty trio rep
resent, all told, the modest sum of
139.
The foremost toilette in the picture
is of white organdy, a chaste dead
white, with bodice applications of
white lace in scalloped entre deux.
Narrow straps of black velvet hold the
tucked chemisette over the shoulders,
and outline stylishly the waist and
skirt flounces. These are tucked to
within two Inches of the bottom, from
where they frill out, only the tiniest
edge of the velvet showing beyond the
materials. The result is an under
shadowing extremely effective.
A “painted organdy,” with brownish
yellow wall flowers on a pale violet
background ts delightfully country in
its suggestion? A kilted skirt flounce
of the plain violet is held down by
hands of ivory French lace, which also
decks the shoulders of the square neck
ed blouse. Around the bust of this,
completely encircling the body, a novel
effect U gained by three rows of black
velvet ribbon, which likewise girlies
the waist—and ties prettily around the
bare throat.
Hevltal of Tambour Embroidery.
The third costume is the most rare
ly radiant of the collection. A slip
efTect ts demonstrated in plain organ
dy, in a vivid canary shade, with an
outlining and bodice fastening of black
velvet ribbon. The petticoat front, un
der blouse and sleeves, are of the same,
handworked with a light thread of
black, in the easy, loose backstitch
which when properly accomplished has
a look of the old tambour embroidery.
Many of the ecru batistes are work" 1
all over in this way—machine embroid
ery of course—and In the most expen
sive designs they imitate the beautiful
old tambour muslins to a degree high
ly deceptive. In the pattsn dtesses,
where the skirt is half made and the
bodice outlined on an uncut length,
the charming old robe eff*cts are a’.'o
seen, the narrow slip fronts, Indeed, of
tne infants' long dress.
Odd Bodices Barely Seen.
Not many odd, fancy bodices are seen
nowadays, and by that 1 mean direct
contrast in colors and material troin
the skirt. But with certain jupes of
plain silk or fine veiling, here and there
a Louis XVI jacket of hea.y itoeade
will descend from a car.-'age at some
smart out of town pla- to bewilder
the unsophisticated into the belief that
a masquerade is going on somewhere.
Tor the whole trend of these Ja-'kets is
toward elaborate pi r. l •esquen"3. The
wide sleeves of some, which fall over
underpuffs of wl'e muslin or Putin,
show the influence of the popular novel
in their cavalier c iffa. With them go
cravats of pleated iace, highly sugges
tive of those worn by French gallants
of a century ar.l more ago; and though
the front and sides of the dashing gar
ment may have an Eton suggestion In
reaching only to the waist line, the
back sports on historical looking tail,
folded in pleats, and showing. In many
Instances, flat enameled or jeweled but
tons. A round or long jeweled buckle,
pllpfifd Uiryimk ji b&U ttf folded
ornaments the waist at the spinal
point. At the front there are lace re
vers. which end at the back in a rich
cavalier collar.
A charming odd bodice for a slight
figure is here illustrated, and since it
follows the usual blouse lines but lit
, tie more material than a shirt waist
1 calls for is required. Champagne col
ored taffeta laid in narrow tucks, and
| strips of embroidered mousselaine, in
troducing natural flower tints, com
pose this dainty confection. The novel
sleeves fall over poufs of white mull,
held at the wrist with bands of the
worked mousselaine; the vertical lines
of the corsage and collar edge being
made by rows of stitching in different
tints —black, blue, rose, gold and vio
let.
Detnnnd of Needlework.
A toilette d'apron midi Is nothing If
not magnificent, though nothing more
than black ar.d white Swiss is em
ployed for its foundation. Upon this
is appliqued sprays of flowers, panel
diversions and medallions, surrounded
by chenille frames, of black Chantilly
lace. Narrow black velvet ribbon—the
babiest width—forms the outlining of
jacket, skirt frill and hip decoration;
black mousselaine boa, and white nea
politan hat with black velvet bow and
white carnations.
Altogether this toilette exemplifies
with th highest art the infinite pains
fhe modern dressmaker must take to
create the studied richness of some of
the thin gowns seen. All of the appli
cations are put on by hand, each leaf
point and rosebud requiring the most j
delicate touch, while the yards and
yards of velvet ribbon represent many
Journeys of the needle. It makes one's
back ache to think of it —like the Song
of the Shirt! But handsewing is a fea
ture of all the smartest clothes now
aways, and despite the tenderness of
our hearts we go on demanding It.
Many Dean.
“A DAISY.”
An Amnning Incident Daring n
School hectare.
Recently a certain professor out west
was lecturing on "Nature Studies in
the Schools,” and was endeavoring to
impress the pleasure and importance
of a close observance of nature. Speak
ing of flowers, he was exhibiting a
daisy to the class, pointing out its
beauties, and reminding them that the
flower and mankind were creatures of
the Supreme Being. He added by way
of emphasis; “The Lord that made
me. made a daisy.” “You bet he did,”
-'•-* SH.o ,T ir’' w
ELEGANT COSTUME OF BLACK AND WHITE.
spoke up someone in the background,
and it was not until the audience was
on the verge of convulsions that the
professor saw the point and yielded the
platform to the next man on the pro
gramme.
—lt is not often that a woman of to
day can array herself In any fabric
that once formed part of the wardrobe
of Queen Elizabeth. The Countess of
Pembroke has, however, this privilege,
and at the last drawing room she at
tended she wore a white and silver
gown, the peach-colored train of which
was trimmed with old Point de Flan
dt4e, which not only had been owned,
but also worn, by the famous Tudor
THE MOKNING NEWS: SUNDAY. AUGUST 4. 1901.
AVERY TIRRELLS
WEDDING CAKE.
By Susan Brown Robbins.
•Odd? Why, yes. I do s'pose Avery
Tirrell would be called a little odd by
strangers, but. Land o’ (rosheni 'tain t
nothing to what he used to be. There
was a time when folks called it he
wa'n’t just right in his mind. I never
thought that, but there's no knowing
what it might have come to if I hadn t
got my hand on his wedding cake just
when I did.
"Never heard about that? Well, you
see he didn't marry very young. His
j mother never give nim a chance. She
• kept him terrible close, and was bound
he never should marry. But she didn't
take into account that she'd got to
die sometime. That happened when
Avery was 30.
"He'd always had a hankering to
get married —some folks do, you know
—and he finally decided on a girl he'd
gone to school with. Her name was
Imogens Torrey. He went round with
' her some, took her to dancing school
and sings, and it was as good as set
tled in both their minds. But you see
it couldn't be quite fixed without his
saying something, and that seemed to
be just what he could not do.
“About that time, when Avery was
racking his brains for a way to pro
pose. he had to go to the city. He
’tended to his business there, and then
he wandered round the streets wish
ing he could get something for Imo
gene that would propose for him.
“Now most anybody would have
thought of a ring. Avery might have,
if he hadn't come to a bakery before
he did to a jewelry store.
"There in the show window twas a
great big wedding cake. It struck him
that it was Just the thing he wanted.
So he went in and bought it. He car
ried it to her that very day.
“Well, he was terrible surprised when
the cake came back in a hurry, with
the maddest note from Imogene you
ever see. Imogene was kinder high
sperited in them days, and it ain’t to
be wondered at that it riled her to
have that cake come, and for all the
family to bust out laughing when they
see it, and especially when she Tiad to
tell ’em that Avery never’d said e word
about her marrying him. As for him.
he put the cake away and went round
looking pretty doleful for a while.
“Now there are some that are real
hard on Avery for being changeable,
as they call it, but I always said that
if a man tvants to get married I’d
rather see him keep trying than to
have him discouraged right off the first
time. Of course, it’s a compliment to a
woman for a man never to get mar
ried unless he can have her, but T say,
what is the use of punishing yourself
just for the sake of complimenting a
woman that don’t care nothing about
you?
“No, I can’t say as I find a bit of
fault with Avery in keeping on trying,
though I must say I don'ti think much
of his judgment in sending that wed
ding cake round to half a dozen dif
ferent women, and getting it back ev
ery time with a sassy letter. I should
tNoUght he’d have known by the
way Imogene acted that It sva’n’t ex
actly the best way to pop the ques
tion.
, • But he bad the cake and 1 • fioi
he wanted to make use of it, and he
probably never thought how a wo
man would feel having a second handed
wedding cake sent to her. And when
it got to be sixth handed, well! All
this time, mind you, Imogene liked him,
and he didn't have the sense to know
It.
“Well, this thing had been going on
for years, when one spring—it was in
white lilac time—my niece come to see
me. She was engaged to be married,
though I didn't tell of it at the time,
and the young man wrote to her and
sent her flowers pretty often.
"One day a big box come for her. and
I called her Into the kitchen where it
was. She took off the cover and there
was some white tissue paper on top.
All at once she looked around the
rocm.
“What do I smell?” she says.
“ 'I don't know,' I says, sniffing, too.
" 'lt's something sour,' she says. She
took off the tissue paper, and there was
a lot of white lilacs. She took them out
and laid ’em on the box cover. Then
she smiled again.
“ ‘Something's awful sour, and it’s in
this box.' Then she saw a card and she
took it out. There was a name written
on it—Avery Tirrell. When I saw that
I begun to suspect what was up.
“ It's awful heavy,’ she says, taking
something out of the box and putting it
on the table and beginning to take off
the paper.
"By that time she'd got the paper
off. and we both saw the wedding cake.
Lucy, she just stood there with her
mouth open, and I begun to laugh.
Then in a minute she begun, too. We
laughted till we cried, and as soon as
I could speak I told her that was the
way Avery took to propose.
"Finally we sobered down and wiped
our eyes, and stood off looking at the
cake. We didn't care to get very* near
it. for it did smell terrible sour. I don’t
believe Avery noticed that, and I s'pose
he thought wedding cake would keep
forever. It didn't look very appetizing,
either.
"The frosting was kinder yellow and
streaked, and it was broken in a num
ber of places. I suspect that some of
the ones he'd sent It to wa'n't any too
careful how they handled It, being mad
as they was.
“ 'Whatever shall we do with it?'
says Lucy. 'Hadn't we better send U
back?’
' “ ‘No,’ I says. ‘l’ll tell you what we'll
BODICE OF SILK AND EMBROIDERED MUSLIN.
do with it; we'll burn it up,’ and I
started towards the stove.
“I took off the top of it and then I
slid the cake in. It was so big that I
had to take the poker and break it up
some before I could get the covers on
again.
“ ‘There!’ I says, when it had got to
burning good, 'that's what ought to
have been done years ago. And now,
says I, ‘long's you don't send it back,
lie’ll take it that you’ve accepted him,
and he'll be here this evening to see
you.'
“ 'What shall I do,’ she says.
“ ‘Don’t you worry,’ I says soothing
ly. 'You just keep out of sight when
he comes, and I'll 'tend to Avery my
self.'
"It was some later in the afternoon
and Lucy had gone down to the post
office, when I had to go out in the yard
for something, and I found that Avery
Terrell's wedding cake was scenting up
the whole neighborhood with the aw
fullest smell. I never’d thought of that.
"Then in a few minutes I saw Miss
Peaks coming over. I'm in for it now,’
I says to myself.
" 'Have you noticed what a queer
smell there is out doors?' she says.
" 'I hadn't noticed much about it,’ I
says. ‘Mr. Jepson burns leather chips
under his boiler, and when the wind's
right it comes over here. I guess that's
what you smell.'
“ 'Perhaps 'tis,' she says, as dry as
could be, ‘but it's kinder funny that
the smoke from Mr. Jepson s fact’ry
should be coming out of your chimney.’
“ 'My chimney?’ I says, 'Oh, I burned
some old woolen rags'—l had, a day or
two before, so that wa’n't a lie.
"Miss Peaks looked kinder disgusted,
but in a minute she tried another tack.
T see the expressman bringing some
thing here to-day.’
" ‘Yes,’ I says; ‘Lucy’s young man
sends her flowers real often. Them
roses in that vase come from him.’
“The expressman acted as if that box
was pretty heavy—heavier’n flowers
would be,” she says.
"I ’peared to study over this for some
time, and she sat there looking at me
with her eyes like gimlets. 'That’s
awful queer,’ I says, finally. ‘I don't
understand it. And Mason Giles ain't
but 45.’
’’ ’What on earth are you talking
about now?’ she says.
” ’Why, about the expressman acting
as if them roses was heavy. He ain't
but 45 and I didn’t know but what
he was rugged and healthy. Come to
think of it. though, his father had lum
bago awful bad and maybe he's hav
ing a touch of it. That’s liable to
make anybody kinder stoop over.’
"I'd got her switched off now, for
she'd rather talk about diseases than
anything else in this world. She didn't
say anything more about the express
man or the smoke, but as she went
out of the yard going home. I noticed
that she sniffed the air and looked trp
at the chimney.
“About half-past seven Avery came.
He looked so happy and eager that *
felt tfitty. lor the feller,
•• ‘Can I see your niece?” he says.
•• 'No,’ I says, *you can't.’
“He looked kinder surprised at that.
'Won’t you tell her I’m here? I want
to see her about something quite im l
portant.”
" ‘Come right into the sitting room,’
I says, and he followed me In. ‘Now.’
I says, ‘there ain’t no need of your
being so mysterious, for I know all
about it.'
“ 'What do you mean?’ he says, and
he begun to look kinder uncomfortable.
“ 'You see them roses?’ He nodded
his head. ‘Well, they was sent to Lucy
by the young man she’s engaged to.’
“Avery had got up and was looking
for his hat. ‘I guess I'd better go.’ he
says.
“ 'You Just sit down, Avery Tirrell.'
I told him. ‘l've got something to say
to you.’ He minded like a lamb, and
I went on.
“ 'You don’t ask about your wedding
cake? Well. I took the liberty of burn
ing it. and a good hot Are it made, too.
It wa’n’t fit to give to pigs, and It
ought to have, been destroyed years
ago. That cake is all that's kept you
from marrying, the last ten years,’ I
says, and then I waited.
’’ ‘Do you mean— ’ he began, but I
cut him short. *
“ ‘I don't mean anybody In particu
lar,' I says. ‘I name no names, but I
mean that if you'd only gone about it
the right way you could have found
somebody to marry you.’
“ 'But I thought—’
“ ‘Did you really!’ I says, quite sar
castic. ‘l’m surprised. I almost think
you must be mistaken. There's Just
one woman in this town that you want
to marry, and you know who I mean.*
’’ ‘lmogene?’ he asked.
’’ ‘Of course,’ I says. ’Now, you Just
go to her and tell her that you made
a big mistake, ten years ago, and that
you want to make up for it now, if it
ain't too late. I ain't saying she'll have
you’—l knew she would, but I wa’n’t
going to let him think so—‘l wouldn’t.
In her place. But yeu just go to her,
man fashion, and ask her. She won't
think any the worse of you, anyway.’
“ ‘l’ll do it,’ he says.
“ ‘To-night?’ I asked.
“He kinder hesitated, but I knew It
wouldn’t do to put it off, so I made
him promise to go right straight there.
“Well, the next morning he come
round and told me it was all fixed up.
“He started along, and then he came
back. He looked kinder sheepish.
‘We—er—ain't going to have any wed
ding cake at all,’ he says. ‘lmogene
seems kind of set against it, somehow,
and I want to please her.’ ’’
A WOMAN'S BOARD OF TRADE.
Its Work in Santa Ke—The City lln*
Been Beautified.
Santa Fe, Aug. 1. —Few clubs have
done such useful and progressive work
as the Woman's Board of Trade of
Santa Fe. This club, organized at the
time of the Columbian Exposition, for
the purpose of making an exhibit at
the latter, took the name “Board of
Trade,” to donate its practical objects.
After the exposition it turned its at
tention o city improvement. Santa Fe,
like all cities, both in Old and New
Mexico, has a plaza in the center of
the town. The plaza at Santa Fe is a
place of great historic interest, many
of the salient events of the history of
the territory having occurred there. On
one side it is bounded by the Gover
nor’s palace, a long, adobe building,
which has been the seat of authority
ever since New Mexico was a crown
colony of Spain. With this interesting
old building on one side, and the best
shops and hotels of the city on the
other three, the plaza should have been
an ornament to the town. Instead, it
was sunken and irregular in surface,
covered with a rank growth of alfalfa,
and surrounded by an old wooden
fence. The Woman's Board of Trade
took vigorous possession of the plaza.
They transformed the surface into a
fine level lawn, replaced the old fence
with an elegant stone coping, and
erected a handsome drinking fountain.
This was not only an achievement in
itself, but it gave an impetus to like
improvements throughout the city.
The board has also established a free
library and reading room, which now
contains several thousand good vol
umes. It has a visiting and relief com
mittee. which looks after strangers and
gives them a welcome; a boon in a city
to which so many sick and unfortunate
victims of tuberculosis bend their steps.
It also has a committee on prevention
of cruelty to animals. The board is rec
ognized by taxpayers and city govern
ment as an active factor in successful
municipal government.
Notwithstanding its splendid
achievements it has no command of
public funds, but such Is its stand
ing in the community that it has never
had any trouble in raising sufficient
money for its work.
—Difficult to Treat.—" Well, what is
the matetr with your husband?” the
physician asked, as he laid down his
repair- kit and removed the gloves.
"Imaginary insomnia.” replied Mrs.
Fosdick. "Imaginary insomnia?” re
peated the physician Inquiringly.
"That's what it is. He thinks he doesn't
sleep at night, hut he gets lots more
•lec£ than I do.’Vßostan Traveller.
Millions
OFMOTHERS
USE CUTICURA SOAP, assisted by Cuticura Ointment, the
great skin core, fr preserving, purifying, and beautifying the
skin of infants and children, for rashes, itchings, and chafings,
for cleansing the scalp of crusts, scales, and dandruff, and the
stopping of falling hair, for softening, whitening, and soothing
red, rough, and sore hands, and for all the purposes of the
toilet, bath, and nursery. Millions of Women use Cuticura Soap
in the form of baths for annoying irritations, inflammations,
and excoriations, for too free or offensive perspiration, in the form
of washes for ulcerative weaknesses, and for many sanative, anti
septic purposes which readily suggest themselves to women,
especially mothers. No amount of persuasion can induce those
who have once used these great skin purifiers and beautifiers to
use any others, especially for preserving and purifying the skin,
scalp, and hair of infants and children. Cuticura Soap combines
delicate emollient properties derived from Cuticura, the great skin
cure, with the purest of cleansing ingredients and the most re
freshing of flower odours. No other medicated soap is to be com
pared with it for preserving, purifying, and beautifying the skin,
scalp, hair, and hands. No other foreign or domestic toilet soap,
however expensive, is to be compared with it for all the purposes
of the toilet, bath, and nursery. Thus it combines in ONE SOAP
at ONE PRICE, the BEST skin and complexion soap and the
BEST toilet and baby soap in the world.
Complete External and Internal Treatment tor Evary Humour,
X • Consisting of Cuticura Soap, to cleanse the skin of crusts ai.d
■ Ilf IPIII*9 scales and soften the thickened cuticle; Cuticura Ointment, to
■ H 8.1 kj U 1 ta instantly allay itching, inflammation, and irritation, and soothe
V 7 and heal; and Cuticura Resolvent, to cool and cleanse the blood.
"TLtC cCT A Single Set is often sufficient to cure the most torturing, dis
n~, c 1 figuring, itching, burning, and scaly skin, scalp and blood humours,
with loss of hair, when all else falls. Bold throughout the world. British Depot F. New
bert 4 Sons, 27-28, Charterhouse Bq., London, £. C. Potter Druo anjd Che*. Core-
Sole Props., Boston, U. S. A.
NEW USE FOR OLD STRAW HATS.
Cover With Last Season’s Flowers
and Grasses.
Often we find that old straw hats are
subjects of grave consideration. Many
of them, we hear it said, are too good
to be thrown away; too faithful to be
given to the poor, and yet not quite
modish enough to tempt their owners
into trimming them up for another sea
son. This, then, is the time when it is
best to transform them into lamp
shades. Most charming as lamp shades
they become, especially for summer
houses and verandas.
To carry out the scheme is a simple
matter. Leghorns or very large gar-
r x *
1 ~ I I ISIW ■ ' 'l 1
den hats of rough straw are the most
desirable. First should the top of the
crown be cut out, when already, as can
be imagined, the hat will assume
somewhat the shape of a lamp shade.
Underneath it should then be wired up
and down as well as about the top
and bottom, that it may be held in
shape and bent gracefully, for above
all else these shades must have a free,
floppy appearance. They do not look
well if at all stiff. The trimmings con
sists mostly of artificial flowers and
grasses which many women haye on
hand from hats of preceding summers.
Long, deep green grasses are usually
hung about the lower edge as a fringe.
If, however, the edges are not in good
condition It looks very well to put
about them a ruff of pinked-out taf
feta ribbon, either to match or contrast
with the color of the straw. A Leg
horn, for instance, would be most ef
fective with a grass green ruff about
the edges and a few large red popples
scattered over its surface. Sometimes
flowers that one has in the bouse are
faded, but even their colors can he in
tensified by painting them afresh with
either tapestry dyes or water colors.
Many old straws can also be helped
by touching them up judiciously.
On the other hand so pretty are these
straw lamp shades that it is quite
worth while to buy the hats, should
they not be forthcoming in any other
way. Late in the season many deco
rative ones are sold at remarkably low
prices. To be effective they should al
ways be large. Deep yellow ones of
rough straw trimmed with buttercups
and grasses are unusually pretty and
cast a golden glow when the lamp un
der them is lighted. The wholly green
ones also are restful and attractive.
When a particular style or color of
straw is desired it were best to bu
it by the yard and then sew it to
gether over a wire frame. It is also
in this way that the similar and very
small shades for candlesticks are I°®” •
and which are quite enchanting as tney
decorate the four corners of a ta
ble. or cast a glimmer from some am
corner at the veranda.
M ~ CHICHESTER'S ENGLISH -ma
Pennyroyal pills
■ UrlflnJ <1 o r | y t , Ge ""'7'- rli |
V CHICHESTF.R' S ENGLISH
in Ki ll
4 with blue ribbon. Take so other, a. fu•
I /W* tl„llHuy cf ybur [>ru,gtil.Of eod 4e. '■
Ll $ "imp. lor P.rtlclore. Tr.tls.ot.lsU
—, r$ u] ••Heller for ■.■4lm.” " by
IF YOU WANT GOOD MATERIAL
and work, order your lithographed and
printed stationery and blank books from
Mnntina News. Savannah, Ga,