Newspaper Page Text
SUNDAY MORNING.
Huldy Ann
Wr.tten For tho WaoUingtoa Star.
By E. Louise Liddell.
IT was Huldy Ana'* eleventh birth
day, and she had a secret. Shp
was dreadfully afraid An tit .lane
would find uni about It—the secret,
I mean. She was sure ‘the birthday
would never be thought of. The little
girl's father and mother were dead,
and she had lived with her spinster
attut for nearly a year. She thought
Amu .Tune didn't rare whether slip had
a good time or not, but possibly she
was mistaken. She had slipped out of
the kitefc. u now. on the sly. for fear
she would be told to sew patchwork
or do a "stent" on the hateful stocking
she was knitting. She hud other plans.
She was looking anxiously down the
road that led to the village. It wasn't
long before she saw what she was look
ing for. "They're coining!" she said
excitedly. Site had been half afraid
they wouldn't eonie. and the other half
afraid that they would. And now there
they were!
She made sure that no one was
watching before she ran to meet them
—or it—for it was her party that she
was expecting. That was Huldy Ann's
secret: she was to have a party, and
Aunt .lane didn’t know the first thing
about it.
It wasn’t a very big parly, to be sure,
only Hattie l.arkin ami her little sister
Fannie find the Fester twins. Hattie
was a sedate miss of twelve, with blue
eyes and flaxen braids. Little Fan was
bluer-eyed, and her hair was fiasetter,
and hung in ringlets over her chubby
neck. Fan always reminded Huldy
Attn of an angel (though of course she
tiad never seen oneb The Foster sis
ters, Kate and Lizzie. were rosy
cheeked, black-eyed damsels of tea.
with closely cropped brown heads.
They (the twins) were not in the least
angelic.
"I'm 'most 'fraid we're too early,"
remarked Hattie, with a sidelong
glance nr Huldy Ann’s brown calico
dress and snuhonnet.
The four visitors wore splck-and
spatt light prints, so stiffly starched
that they fairly crackled when their
wearers moved.
Huldy Ann noticed the glance and
blushed. "No, you ain't a mite too
early." she replied. “I didn't dress up.
l-l thought p'raps we might like to
dig in the sand heap.”
The visitors looked at their clean
gowns and at each other. "1 didn't
s'pose folks dug In sand heaps at par
ties,” spoke up Lizzie Foster. "1
s’posed they playetl games In the
house.”
“There are different kinds of parties,”
said Huldy Ann. with dignity. (You
see site hadn’t planned for a house
party). "Let’s sit down under the big
elm and rest a spell." she went on.
How she did wish site knew what to do
next! To tell the truth she had never
lteen to a party in all her life.
"1 don’t fink, thith part Jt It It much
fun,” lisped little Fan, after the girls
Itad been sitting in awkward silence
for a few moments.
“The party hasn’t begun yet.” an
swered. Huldy Ann, nearly distracted
HULDT ANN. v
between her desire that her friends
should have a jolly time and her fear
lest they should be espied by Aunt
•lane's sharp eyes. Thru she laughed
in telief as she caught sight of the
hired man driving out of the barn with
a great hay rick. She jumped up and
swung her sunbonnet. “Joel,” she
called, “we want to go! Come along,
girls!” she added* to her companions,
"the party’s going to begin.”
Joel good-naturedly waited for the
children and tossed them into the big
wagon as rliotigli they bad been so
many bundles of feathers. He climbed
iu last of all and cracked the whip, and
away they went, the “rick” -bumping
and thumping over “hummocks” and
stray stones, while the little folks
laughed and shouted with delight.
Such fun they had when tin. hay field
was reached, rolling in the hay, jump
ing into haycocks, and once in a while
making believe work by raking a win
row.
“It's just a lovely party!" the village
children declared, when, warm and
tired, they sat down to rest in the
shadow of the stone wall.
“I s'pose there'll be 'freebxnents when
we get back to the house?” said Kata
Foster.
"I—l s'pose so,” stammered Huldy
Ann. "But I’ve got some luncheon
here.” she hastened to say. producing a
tin pail which she had managed to
smuggle into the wagon from some se
cret hiding place. “It ain’t much,” she
apologized, raising tiie lid and display
ing hall' a dozen cookies with nicked
edges, a few pieces of cake and ginger
bread and a sorry-looking quarter of a
pie. As Huldy Ann had lteen saving
up this spread from her lunches of the
past week it eottld not be expected to
have a very fresh appearance. But the
"party” was too hungry to he over
particular. and soon there wasn't a
crumb left.
"The next thing on flip po-gram,” an
nounced Huldy Ann. "is to go up Chap
man lattte an' pick blackberries. I
know where they’rethieker’n spatters.”
The visitors seemed to be a little
doubtful about thisexpedition. "There
might he snakes.” objected Hattie.
"Why, 1 go up there 'most every day.
an’ 1 never saw a snake there in all my
life.” declared Huldy Ann. who wasn’t
one of the timid kind.
The promise of a feast of berries was
tempting, so finally the little company
climbed over the wall, and crossing the
main road wandered into the shady
lane. It must be owned that they
didn't have a very good time here.
Perhaps it was because they were
tired—or. possibly, they were the least
bit hungry in spite of the luncheon be
sides, the blackberries were not as
plentiful ns the brambles. Kate tore
her dress on a blackberry bush, and a
bad-tempered bee stung Huldy Ann.
But wlmt troubled the latter most was
M§k§
that, although it was growing late in
the afternoon the party showed no
signs of peacefully disbanding. She
began to have dreadful misgivings that
It—or they—would insist on going home
with lier.
Sure enough before long the Foster
girls began to wonder if there would
Its “ice cream for supper!” Then Hat
tie inqu!!. ! d, "Don't you think it's time
we're getting back to the house? It’ll
be dark pretty soon.”
Huldy Ann dreaded the dark. But
still more she dreaded the sight of
Aunt Jane. "Oh, I don’t; know,” she
said. "I guess 'tisn't so very late.”
While she was speaking it big drop
of rain fell plump on her nose, and a
low peal of thunder rumbled in the dis
tance.
“Dear me! I'm stared to death of
thunder!” cried Hattie, turning pale.
“Pooh!” said Huldy Ann, “nobody
tvas ever killed by thunder.’’
But a sharp flash of lightning and
fast-falling raindrops proved too much
even for Huldy Aim’s courage, and she
scampered down the bill with the other
children, almost running against a cov
ered wagon and an old white horse
that stood at the foot of the latte.
“Why, Joel, is that you?” cried the
little girl.
“Wall, I guess 'tls,” answered Joel.
“Your aunt sent me to fetch you home.
We kinder thought you’d he up in the
lane.”
The shower was soon over, but
Huldy Ann was very thoughtful all the
way home. When the farmhouse was
in sight she put her mouth close to
Joel's ear and whispered: “Does Aunt
Jane know there’s anybody with me?”
“Certain.'’ answered Joel, Ids eyes
twinkling. “The l.arkin girls' ilia and
the Foster girls’ rna both came over to
take ’em home from the party.”
“Anyway, she can’t htore’n kill me,”
thought Iluidy Ann.
But when they drove up to the door
"eSjfe stood Aunt June looking real
pleasant. And when they got into the
big, cool kitchen, with its yellow paint
ed floor and vine covered windows,
‘here was the supper tabie spread with
cold meat, hot biscuit, cake, pie, pre
serves, cheese, pickles and dear knows
how many other indigestible goodies.
Nobody thought of ice cream, and
ci erybody enjoyed the feast, excepting
—perhaps- Huldy Ann; her conscience
was troubling her. She feu very
proud, though, when Aunt Jane set be
fore her a big, frosted cake with eleven
pink peppermints on top, and told her
to cut the birthday cake.
It was a very quiet, little girl that
stood beside her aunt an hour later,
watching the visitors out of sight!
“Aunt Jane,” she said shyly, as they
turned to go into the house, "you’re
awful good. I’m sorry I acted so.”
Aunt Jane pursed up her lips in a
queer smile. “Never mind,” she said,
“only the next time you think of givin’
a party, I guess you'd better let me
know beforehand."
"Yes'm,” said Huldy Ann meekly.
A few years hence an elopement in
high life may be accomplished with the
aid of an airship.
THE BRUNSWICK 'DAILY NEWS.
New York City.—Hark blue linen is
used for this stylish shirt waist, with
white linen and bands of embroidery
for trimming.
Two deep pleats extend from shoulder
j
MISSES’ FANCY GIBSON BLOC3K.
to belt iu Y-shaped outline at the back.
iud the waist is smoothing adjusted
under the arms.
The pleats in front correspond with
those in tlie back, and are stitched
their entire length. The waist closes
in double-breasted style, the right side
fastening on the left with large pearl
FANCY WAIST AND FIVE GORED SKIRT.
buttons, two rows of which trim the
fronts.
A white linen collar completes the
neck. The bishop sleeves are shaped
with inside seams only. They have
comfortable fullness on tlie shoulders,
lit the upper arm closely and are gath
ered at (lie lower edge on narrow
wristbands. 'These are finished with
flaring cuffs to match the collar.
Smart blouses in this mode are de
veloped in pique, cotton cheviot, per
cale or gala tea, heavy wash fabrics
being preferable, as the pleats should
remain stiff over the shoulders.
To make the blouse for a miss four
teen years will require one and three
quarter yards of thirly-six-inch ma
terial.
'wm
For Cal lint; it ml Cliurch.
For calling and church wear nothing
is more appropriate than a dark blue
and white figured satin foulard com
bined with white. Sue]i a dress is il
lustrated in the large drawing--with ail
over lace and white peatt de soie trim
mings.
The waist is made over a glove-fitted,
featherboned lining that closes in tlie
centre front. The back is plain, with
slight fullness at the licit. It is faced
witii lace to a round yoke depth.
The front plastron is permanently
attached to the right lining and closes
invisibly on the left. The right full
from is arranged in a deep box pleat
at the lower edge of the plastron and
also fastens under the left: front.
Double bertha collars finish the sides
of the lace front and extend around the
back below Ihe yoke. They are
trimmed with white hands and similar
straps edge the fronts in vest effect.
A lace collar completes the neck.
The sleeves are arranged in four in
verted box pleats that are flatly
stitched from shoulder to elbow. The
puffs formed by Hie fullness below the
elbow are gathered and arranged iu
deep pointed cuffs of white peatt de
soie, over which they droop grace
fully.
The skirt is’ shaped with five gores,
narrow front and sides and wide backs.
The closing is made invisibly at the
SEPTEMBER 14.
centre bade under two Inverted pleats
that are flatly pressed and present a
perfectly plain appearance.
The flounce is shallow in front, but
graduates to :t considerable depth at
the back ami gives a stylish sweep
to the skit, at tile tioor. Lace is ap
plied at the lop of the item as foot
trimming.
To make the waist in the medium
size will require 'two and one-quarter
yards of forty-four-inch materia!, with
three-quarter yard of all-over lace.
To make the skirt iu the medium
size will require five and oue-half yards
of forty-four inch material.
I>om-Hhtt|il rai'iMols.
The latest imported parasols are
dome-shaped, and are of medium size.
The sticks are of natural wood, with
crystal, porcelain or natural rustic
handles. Soft moire is the material
and white or green the color.
I*h! <Bray Costume.
The costume illustrated is made of
palt* gray etamine over pink silk that
.shows through the opou mesh of the
material and lends a tone of color to
the entire toilet.
The waist is made over a glove
fitted. featherboned lining that closes
in the centre front. The back is plain
across the shoulders and displays slight
fullness at the belt, arranged iu tiny
pleats.
The vest of steel embroidery is per
manently attached to the right lining
and closes invisibly on the left. It fs
wide at tlie neck and tapers to a
point at the belt. A broad sailor collar
finishes the neck and forms long revet *
In front. It is edged with a frill of
gray ribbon.
The sleeves are fitted with inside
seams only, have slight fullness on the
shoulders and are adjusted on deep
pleated cuffs, over which the sleeves
droop gracefully at Hie hack. The belt
is of green velvet ribbon fastened with
a silver buckle. In the skirt five well
proportioned gores are fitted smoothly
around the waist and hips without
(ittrls. The fullness in the centre back
is arranged in an underlying pleat at
each side of the closing.
Tlie gored portion is cut off below
tlie knees and lengthened with a cir
cular flounce that flares stylishly at
tlie lower edge. To this is added a
full-gathered flounce that gives a wide
sweep to the skirt at the floor.
Bands of embroidery are applied at
the top of each flounce.
To make the waist in the medium
size will require one and three-quarter
yards of forty-four-inch material, with
TUCKED WAIST AND FIVE GORED SKIRT.
one yard of all-over embroidery. To
make the skirt in the medium size will
require four yards of forty-four-inch
material
LOT OF JAPANESE WOMEN
CONDITIONS THAT SEEM ODD TO
WESTERN EYES.
Th f.ovrur Hor Social Decr Ibe X*ttrr
tlie Woman I* Treat*•<!— Xiao. He Pret
tier Slie I*—S{ fin* No .Jewelry to
H j >4*uU Of.
Japan is the .antipodes as much as
Australia. If Australia has Us Christ
mas at midsummer and its cherries
with stones outside the fruit, Japan
has its oranges without pips and does
moat things itpskle-down front our
jioint of view.
The women carry their babies on
their backs Instead of on their arms
and blacken their teeth instead of try
ing to keep them white. They also
try as hard as they can to look old,
and the lower they are in class the
more consideration they receive front
their husbands.
There is generally, it must be con
fessed, method in Japanese madness,
but. it does not look very mac! to the
unreasoning glo’fb trotter. Take, for
instance, the matter of a woman’s
carrying babies when so very young
that it becomes second nature not to
remember the baby at: all. but to go
oil doing whatever one is doing with
out regarding the baby; in other words,
by the new patent way of carrying a
baby a woman can work as well as
mind the child—which site docs not
mittd.
lit fact, unless it is her first, tlie
mother does not generally carry the
baby; the last baby, if it is a girl and
weaned, carries if. Little Japanese
girls are weaned unconscionably late,
and begin tlieir duties na women al
most os soon its they are weaned.
The first duty of woman, iu the Jap
anese proverb, is obedience; the first
duty of a Japanese woman in practice
is, when she looks about four years
old, to carry the next baby in an ltaori
(shawl) on her back.
The baby is fastened so securely that
its little mothering sister can ploy ball
or shuttlecock in spite of the pick-a
back. The baby does not cry or laugh
—Japanese babies are very solemn—but
nods its head and runs at the nose.
If there is no younger sister to carry
succeeding babies as the years ad
vance, the girl will do hor courting
and her housework with the pick-a
back encumbrance.
The Japanese woman (loos not
blacken her teeth under any mistaken
idea that it makes her attractive; she
does it to make herself unattractive.
Her husband is supposed to know her
value; if he doesn’t, he divorces her.
He makes no provision for her and
site lias no dowry from iter family,
but a divorced woman in Japan nearly
always marries again. She brings noth
ing lmt a gentle and obedient slave,
and takes nothing away with her but
the same valuable commodity.
The reason why lower class women
receive more consideration from tlieir
husbands than the upper class sisters
is that they are capable of earning
their own livings, which Japanese
ladies are not. So thoroughly is this
recognized that a lower class woman
divorces her husband if she is not
satisfied, a thing which never happens
in more select circles, unless (lie
woman is an heiress, when the hus
band is of ns little consideration as a
lady. *T /';<>•
It is only when she has no brothers
that a Japanese woman may expect
money from her parents. If they have
only a/laughter to lea ve their money
to, the son-in-law has to take her name
—and (lie consequences.
In households which are nneorrupted
by foreign influences, a woman, of
whatever class, is only a servant, un
less her husband chooses otherwise.
She is expected to wait on hint, brush
and mend his clothes, speak only when
she is spoken to, and always give place
aux homines.
It is she who pushes back the shutter
for him to pass through, and she is
expected to walk a pace or two behind
him, even when there is plenty of
room for them to go side by side. It
makes no difference if site is a Duch
ess, nothing makes any difference, un
less her husband is an Anglo-maniac,
except for clothes. If a Japanese buys
foreign clothing for his wife, he may
treat her like a foreign lady, walk with
her beside him, let her pass before hint
—even hand her things.
A kimono is more adapted to the
European lady's figure if it is wont
backside foremost, and the Parisian
costume sidts the Japanese figure bet
ter backside foremost. If the dress
comes from Germany, it does not sig
nify so much, because the Germans
are broad-minded in their notions of fit.
A well-dressed Japanese woman is
tied in at file knees so that she may
nor seem to walk too freely. Japanese
wtnieii do not wear gloves, which is
a great saving to tlieir families, seeing
that every glove in Japan which is not
sealed tip irt a pickle bottle or a biscuit
tin, gets the spotty mould in the first
few hours of tlie rainy season.
When her hands are cold she pulls
them up into her sleeves, which arc
long and hanging, as they were when
King Arthur's court began, and "he
had three ancient .serving-men. and all
of them were thieves.” Doubtless
those ancient serving-men, like the
modern Japanese woman, had tlieir
sleeves half hemmed up for pockets.
The Japanese woman carries in hor
sleeve a pocket handkerchief, which
is generally made of paper; a gaudy
silk case containing lier chop-sticks—
you take your feeding tools with you to
a Japanese meal instead of finding
them on the table—and another gaudy
silk case, which contains a looking
glass which isn't made of glass, but
silver-colored bronze; her pocket comb,
which is of no use, but a piece of for
eign swagger; and her pot of lip-salve,
which is not intended to soften the lips,
since kissing is not a Japanese custom,
but to color them to an Improbabl®
crimson. She may keep her fan and
Iter smoking materials in her sleeve,
but she more often has them suspended
front buttons.
The Japanese do not use buttons for
buttoning: they stick them through
tlieir sashes and let them hang down
h.v silver chains or silken cords, to the
other end of which they attach their
fans, tlieir smoking kit, their medicine
chests, and perhaps their pen and ink.
All this sounds formidable, not to say
unlikely, but there Is still method iu
the Japanese madness.
The medicine chest (into) consists of
little trays fitting into each other and
a cover, and would go into a cigar
ease; the ink is in the dry Indian form;
and tlieir pen is a paint brush stuck
in the ewl of a bamboo shoot.
They carry their tobacco in a purse,
and smoke it in a little brass pipe
hardly big enough to hold a cigarette.
It only holds about, three wliiffs, which
would be inconvenient in a land where
the natives do not use matches, though
they forge foreign brands, if It were
not for the fact that there is hardly
a room iu Japan which has not a piece
of charcoal smouldering in it on a
tobacco stove (tobacco mono), a finger
stove (hihachi), or a cooking stove,
which looks like a tool box with Its lid
replaced by a scullery sink full of gray
ash. The pen and the pipe have each
a case made like the cardboard cases
in which razors are sold, blit of elegant
workmanship and often of costly ma
terials.
It is only in cases and buttons that a
Japanese woman can indulge her taste
f'-r jewelry. The Japanese have no
such tiling as jewelry in our sense of.
(he word any more than they have
oaths or bad language.
1 have said that the lower a Japanese
woman is iu class, the more considera
tion she receives; it is true, also, that
the lower her class, the prettier she is.
A Japanese grisette—the mousmee of
literature—is capable of being as pretty
as any grisette ever painted by Greuze.
The type Greuze painted for his “Girl
at the Fountain” is a thoroughly cliar
aeterisfic type of the Japanese mous
mee. Her eyes are mostly black, but
unless site has a spark of good breed
ing they need not be almond shaped
and differ little from those of Euro
peans. The lower class Japanese have
a racial element in them which has
never been satisfactorily accounted
for.
It Is the custom to say that the
Japanese tire a half Malay, half-Mon
golian people, the Mongolian type
being more prominent in the aristoc
racy and the Malay in the people. But
these Uvo races do not, in my mind,
account for this type. '
One could readily believe that the
soft beauty of the Japanese peasant
girl is accounted for by an infusion
of tlie blood of llte gentle brown races
of the South Pacific Islands, with!
whose nature site lias so much in com
mon.
It is lucky for her that she Is pretty,
and gentle and good, for Japan is a :
mans gonntry, where women are re
garded as mere conveniences. The
Japanese talk of the three obediences
for a woman. She has to obey her fa
ther till she is married, her husband
while she is married, and her sons if
she is left a widow with children. i
Ami even that is not the worst of it,
for her wifely obedience extends to her
husband's parents and any elder
brothers he may have. A Japanese
woman is often married because her
mother-in-law wants someone to wait
on her; in fact, she Ims no particular
prospects in life until she becomes a
mother-in-law herself—of a son's wife,
that is to say—not of a daughter’s
husband. -
Japanese mothers-ln-law are proverb
ially harsh to their daughters-in-law;
in fact, the only capacity in which a
woman has a decent chance of mis
behaving herself in Japan is that of
mother-in-law. -Douglas Sladen, in the
Now York Sun.
A Doc in a Glove.
There is no question that the beagle
is it very old breed. Early Roman ac
counts of England contain references
to the beagle, even by name. Books
published from about 1580 to IGIO de
scribe several varieties of bounds, in
eluding “the little beagle which may
be carried in a man’s glove.” That tlie
miniature hound was extremely popu
lar at that time was evident from
Queen Elizabeth keeping a pack which
were also said to be small enough to
put in a glove. This statement is fre
quently ridiculed when it is not under
stood that gloves of that period were
not the present day kind, but, gauntlets
reaching nearly to the elbow. What
became of those glove beagles we may
surmise from what we know of the re
sults of later attempts to maintain
packs of beagles ol’ eight to ten inches
high, the result, after some years, be
ing weak puppies that: fall short of the
line qualities of the little hunting dog
when they are grown up.—Country
Life in America.
Constable.’* Native Landgcdpe,
Fistforil Mill. In the Stour Valley, in
Essex, where the eminent landscape
painter. John Constable, was born 12b
years ago, is to be sold. His father,
who owned the mill, intended the
youth for the church, and then sought
to bring him up to the paternal occupa
tion of miller. John Gonstable was
thus employed for some twelve months,
and, being a good-featured lad, was
always known among the lasses of the
district as the "Handsome Miller.”
The while the young man had a strong
bent for painting, which was fostered
by an appreciative squire in the local
ity, Sir George Beaumont. Eventually,
when John Constable Was nineteen.
Sir George persuaded the parents to
permit their sou to study art in Lon
don.—Loudon News. . .