Harper's Bazaar 1899-10-07: Vol 32 Iss 40

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FASHION | NVMBER et — ————

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See wae GREAT &R (CAN && et oA P PREPARED “THE CHILD mn TODAY IS THE MAN OF TOMORROW” and the strength of THE NATION depends on the Health and Guengih of its Men and Women J. yt there ve mare hens, & beatity ange ond womnse fe Cte con other p gropered esd recommended as furnish INVALIDS AN GONVALESCENTS praise its veaan, TH seems impossible, a mother can often comeelity pees be Aes» GRANU 10 1s of Se grectese Cneeventes Be oe Sass © & 2 absolute! fore of t hie ir of need. mAND H : THar 7h iheemiaL RANUM IS’ AN AN TNVALUABLE EB” foop ‘sh . Suto - ciated im STOMACH a in LUNG eases re EASE INTESTINAL DISORDERS ae ae 7 UAGIGAL OPERATIONS FEVERS TION ASoipents - AND IN ALL cases OF EMERGENCY SOLO BY ORUGGISTS avenvwrene: Sano PosTa. bp FOR BoowceT THE tne TNAL. GRANUM COMPANY, - - graven, _ Conn. Cadlel @ DErorT, JOHN CARLE & sons, 1693 Waren ened Yorn, ™. - A.Vere)| Soap lroilet and Bath Blowing Wool Soap bubbles is great fun, but it is greater fun to i know that by using Wool Soap for all home purposes, especially 1 for the Toilet and Bath, it means a a in household expenses. For Six Wool Soap Wr appe rs we wills dee a — id, an ible-Bubble Soap Pipe It makes bubbles within bubbles aawenae pleases * hildie amuses the grown people SWIFT AND COMPANY, CHICAGO Edges of skirts bound with Feder’s Pompadour SKIRT PROTECTOR (Covered by U.S. and Foreign Patents) [now retailed at SEVEN CENTS A YARD} are always well bound, ngat, and clean! Do not accept worthless imitations, no matter what price you are asked for them; they are but poor imitations of the genuine. See that ev- yard of the Brush Binding you buy has the words “‘ Feder’s Pompadour’”’ stamped thereon. This has been done for your protection against possible misrepresentations. We guarantee Feder’s Pompadour to last as long as the skirt. Your dealer will tell you this guarantee 1s good. J.W.GODDARD & SONS, New York Established in 1847

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APRS.

Copyright, 1899, by HARPER & BROTHERS til Rights Reserved VOL. XEXIL—NUMBER « _NEW YORK, SATURDAY, OCTOBER 7, 1899 Kt To

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MISS JULIA GRANT'S WEDDING GOWN. PORTRAITS OF THE PRINCE AND PRINCESS CANTACUZENE TAKEN IMMEDIATELY AFTER THE WEDDING CEREMONY.—{Sex Pace 853. } PHOTOGRAPHED ESPECIALLY FOR ‘“‘HaRPER’s Bazar” By JAMES BURTON.

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HARPER'S

THE WEEK ELEN KELLER is a student at Radcliffe Col lege this term, she having passed her entrance examinations with honor under the same condi tions which surround the ordinary candidate, but with added difficulties, owing to her infirmities, which only a girl of her indomitable will would atlemmpt to overcome As all the world knows, she could neither see the exami- nation papers nor hear the voice of the examiner. Also, she was deprived of her usual interpreter, Miss Sullivan ; first Miss Sullivan, knowing neither Greek nor Latin, could be of no assistance to her in translating the questions put in those languages, and next because it was decided best that this unusual candidate should be guarded in every possible way from the slightest suspicion of having received assistance. A gentleman was found who was quite unknown to Miss Keller, and unable to speak to her, to write out the examination papers in Braille characters—the system of writing by punctured points employed by the blind. The day of the examina tion it was discovered that he used the American method, while Miss Keller had learned the English system, more books being printed in that one. The questions were thus written at the dictation of the proctor, and immediately handed to Miss Keller, who had to master the unknown characters before rapidly writing the answers upon a type- writer. An instance of the girl’s unusual concentration and self-control can be gained from the fact that she had left ut home her Swiss watch, made especially for the blind, and so was unable to tell how long a time she had in which to answer the questions. This alone would have made the ordinary woman quail. Nevertheless, the afflict- ed girl passed the examinations in algebra, geometry, ele- mentary Greek, advanced Greek, and advanced Latin tri- umphantly. She was in no way favored because she is deaf, dumb, and blind. She sat in darkness and silence, surrounded by strangers, yet she surmounted all difficul- ties

because «“ M&S DEWEY, the wife of our honored Admiral, the only portrait of whom is here reproduced, died when a very young woman. This picture of her is from a minia ture that was made in Italy for the Admiral shortly before her death, Of all the Admiral’s valued souvenirs, there is none that he treasures so highly as this quaint little likeness. In the few mementos that serve to ornament his cabin it occupies a conspicuous position, and those who know him best say that the Admiral’s one sorrow in these days of his world. wide fame is that the companion in his early en- deavors as an unknown Lieutenant in the United States navy is not alive to share it

MRS. DEWEY. Mrs. Dewey was Miss Goodwin, a daughter of the late ex-Governor Goodwin of New Hampshire. The family lived at Portsmouth, in that State, where it still enjoys prominence. The only child of this union was a boy, George Goodwin Dewey, who is now a young man of some twenty-three or twenty-four years, engaged in mer- cantile life in New York. Admiral Dewey never recover ed from his young wife's death, and has elected to remain a widower for the remainder of his days. HARPER’S BAZAR EN-SERVANTS are comparatively rare in America. Women are preferred because they are cheaper, more tractable, and less inclined to over-stimulation. Neverthe- less, there are great possibilities of domestic comfort in men, and it will be interesting to learn whether they can be induced to come to the rescue in Chicago, and, if so, how nearly indispensable they will make themselves. On the Pacific coast the employment of Chinamen as servants has long been common, and the yellow men are highly efficient, and make themselves exceedingly acceptable in the very post that Chicago (and New York too) finds so hard to fill. A capable Chinaman will cook, wash, serve meals, and do generally for a family of five or six persons, and be guide, philosopher, and friend to the children, if there are children in the family and he likes them. Usually, also, he is what horsemen call an easy keeper, and can subsist indefinitely on a handful of tea and a double handful of rice. . ae N interesting case has just been tried by court martial in this country. The accused sentinel,a marine, had been detected by his superior officer making love to his sweetheart while on post *The court, however, returned a sentence of “ not guilty” for the accused man, and the Navy Department sustained the court. Our authorities, therefore, have proved themselves a little more lenient on the subject than those in England, for, only within the last year or two, an order was issued by the British War Department forbidding any soldier making love in the streets. He was not permitted to walk a London street, for instance, with his arm around the waist of his sweetheart, which had been his privilege and his custom from time immemorial. Now when he escorts her she has to take his arm. May it be many years before our authorities become so blind to the sentiments! 2... PRIZE of $20,000 will be given by three Parisian women to the inventor of the best device for saving life at sea. These women are Madame Gustave Richelot, Madame George Ostheimer, and Madame Gustave Paraf; and it is their earnest desire that Americans should enter the competition, while, through Commissioner - General Peck, they have requested the United States Navy De- partment to nanie an officer as member of the board of judges, who, it is probable, will be the naval attaché at Paris. This prize is in memory of the late Mr. and Mrs. Anthony J. Pollock, of Washington, D. C., who were lost at sea on the ill-fated Bourgogne last summer. They were old residents of the capital, where they had many warm friends, and it is their nieces and heirs-at-law who take this philanthropic way of commemorating their loss. <<. A RUSSIAN legend to the effect that a sonless Czar will be succeeded by a Czar Michael is said to be so work- ing upon the present Czar of All. the Russias that he is seriously contemplating abdicating in favor of his young brother of that name, who became heir to the throne on the death, a month ago, of the second brother. The Czar has undoubtedly had many causes for anxiety during his short reign, which began with the horrible tragedy of the crush- ing to death of hundreds during the coronation ceremo- nies. He is kept busy for more than the ten working- hours a day of the laboring-man, reading the official pa- pers which require his signature. While he bas great power over the individual subject, few men in Russia have less real freedom than their nominal master, who is hampered in all his efforts at reform by the heads of gov- ernment. <<. y= reign of the short skirt is another evidence that re- forms which begin at the bottom are the lasting ones, for it was the coming of the bicycle which made popular the abbreviated skirt, and the bicycle was in general use among the four millions before it found favor in the eyes of the fashionable dames. In woman's realm especially, the innovations which are first taken up by the woman of fashion are apt to degenerate into mere fads—the passing fancy of an hour—while those which are adopted by the majority become customs. English women are to testify their admiration for Mrs. Bloomer by a jubilee celebration in October, as it was just fifty years ago that the lady whose name has been commemorated by that particular style of costume first donned the divided skirt. Many members of the Rational Dress League are to ride from Hyde Park Corner to Reading, where a dinner will be ‘ presided over by the Viscountess Habberton, supported by Madame Sarah Grand and Mrs. Hall Caine. The Prince of Wales gives his august countenance to the short skirt in the most unmistakable manner, as while he was taking the cure at Marienbad the lady who was honored by an invitation to one of ‘‘ Lord Renfrew’s” picnic luncheons was made to understand that the royal host considered shooting costume de rigueur. This consists of a short skirt coming half-way from the knee to the ankle, a short close- fitting Figaro jacket, a close-fitting waistcoat beneath of a different color from the skirt and jacket, shooting-boots of brown leather, and a Lodener, or Tyrolese bat, with a black cock or capercailzie feather. As the invitations were given one morning at the wells for the next day, one woman at least found herself in a quandary, as she had arrived at the spa unprovided with the requisite outfit. The tailor who undertook to supply such deficiencies, and could turn out the natty costume at a few hours’ no- tice, has acquired such a reputation that the name of Eckles bids fair to equal if not surpass that of Redfern. Vor. XXXIL, No. 0 Gce the advent of sewing - machines the story of a woman earning a fortune by the expert use of ber needle reads like a fairy tale. Yet Mrs, Clara L. Kellogg, of Westfield, Massachusetts, has, during the last eighteen years, accumulated property valued at more than seven- ty-five thousand dollars, every cent of it made by em- broidery. When thrown ov her own resources at the age of fifteen she had received no special education, and no one considered her a girl of any particular talent. Speak- ing of her work she says: **T had taken lessons in embroidery of a visiting teach- er, who had taught a few months in my native town. I liked the work, and when I found that I must earn my own and my mother’s living, I decided to give embroid- ery lessons. My first class was in my own town, then I formed classes in several neighboring towns, and realizing

MRS, CLARA L. KELLOGW. that I must keep up with the fashions in embroidery if I wished to hold my pupils, I went to Boston and learned Kensington and several stitches popular at that time. The next year I made my first trip abroad, and visited all the museums, cathedrals, and sisterhoods where I could hear of rare bits of tapestry aid embroideries. I also managed to take a few lessons. When I returned home I had more applicants from pupils than I could possibly teach. Then, too, orders began to come in for very handsome pieces of work from persons who were willing to pay handsome prices. I soon abandoned my classes, and devoted my time to filling orders. It was impossible for me to do all the work, so I devoted my time to stamping and selecting colors, and hired the work done by girls I was certain could be trust- ed. The result was so satisfactory after the first few months that I determined to push it. I solicited orders from large furnishing-houses, and succeeded in getting a number of large orders. When handsome homes are com- pleted they are often turned over to these firms to fur- nish. The hangings, cushions, and linens must be em- broidered to correspond with the architecture and furnish ings of each room, I inspect the rooms, make the designs, stamp and select, and send out to my various girls. My smaller orders come direct from customers, and I make it a point to work and alter until they are pleased. “I furnish employment for fifty women during the en- tire year, and for three months before Christmas have often had five times as many. Few of these women live in my neighborhood, but are scattered al) over the coun- try. I have never seen them. They apply by mail with a sample of their work, and if I think it satisfactory I for- ward them a piece of work stampe:, colors selected, and the most explicit directions as to how it must be done. **I visit Europe once a year for three or more months, and spend most of my time hunting for ideas. Every season I have some new designs, and in that way manage to set the fashion, as it were, in this country. I have exe cuted many orders from abroad, and have more than once completed rooms in the White House. Some of the most elegant homes in New York and Newport have whole floors ornamented by my hangings, cushions,ete. In my opinion, hand-embroidery is one of the largest fields open- ed to the woman bread-winner, and, at present, the one in which she will meet with less competition.” HE introduction to American coffee-drinkers of the Puerto-Rican product would be, so General Roy Stone declares, an effective way of bringing commercial pros- perity to the sufferers by the recent hurricane. One sug- gestion is that the ladies all over our country who have charge of the church festivals and fairs should serve Puerto-Rican coffee to their patrons, thus making its su- perior flavor widely known. Housekeepers also could create a market by asking for that brand when purchasing their supplies. It might be a case of if at first you don't succeed, ask, ask again, but ultimately the red can labelled Puerto Rico would find a place beside those lettered Java and Mocha. The sceptic might surmise that, as these va rieties are imported here cid Brazil, so would the new one be. The women, being in ignvrance of this, would have the satisfaction of thinking that they were holding out the right hand of fellowship to our new citizens.

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CATING OTN EE A Are LARKE « VENING dress this year is particularly attractive; not only are all the handsomest materials used, but they are combined so cleverly that each sets off the beauty of the other. Velvet and satins are all the rage, and when they are combined and trimmed with fur the effect is simply regal. There is generally an under-skirt effect seen in the gowns. A plain skirt of white satin will be bordered with a band of sable or ermine fur; over this will be a second skirt of satin or velvet looped up to show the under-skirt. Again, there will be an under-skirt completely covered with lace, and this will have a velvet train; while there are some gowns that are made entirely of satin or entirely of vel vet. Velvet waists with satin skirts have come in fashion —_ the velvet of the soft, pliable description of which the folds can be taken and drawn across the bust in most becoming lines, while the shades of color that are used are unusually beautiful. White will be used, but the delicate shades of green, pink, yellow, and heliotrope will be even more popular, and it will be very hard not to find a be- coming color among all the different shades. Although very gorgeous materials are employed in the construction of a gown, everything is exaggeratedly sim- ple. The lines, it has been said, must be long, but the Wourn evenine cown of velvet, satin, and lace, trimmed with narrow bands of fur. The upper part of the waist is filled in with lace, and there is a deep flounce of lace on the i DINNEK GOWN OF MOUSBELINE DE BOK, made aati under-skirt. ts nde over satin, and with twenty rows of shirring, giving a princesse effect. A nar- row edge of chenille or far trims the entire gown. SRA-GREEN SATIN BALL Gowns from la maison Weille, trimmed with a bor- der of fine jet. Band of sable fur around the under-skirt and around the top of the waist. Jewelled clasps acrors the shoulders. embroideries and laces that are used are not twisted or tied into bows and rosettes, but left to hang or to fall in such fashion that all the beauty of mesh and design will show to the aoa advantage. In the dinner gowns, el- w sleeves are often seen absolutely tight- fitting and made of lace. In the ball gowns the eons are all small puffs, often hang down below the shoulder, and then there will be jew- elled clasps or bands to hold the waist up in a becoming position. One of the pretty fads is to have revers on evening waists lined with white satin or some contrasting color, and the effect is charming. Then another fancy is to have embroidery, or braiding of gold or silver, jewelled beads or pearls. Lace appliqué is used, and little narrow ribbon ruching trims some of the simpler gowns. Some of the very simple dinner gowns are made of mousseline de soie that is draped over net and hasan under-body of satin. The shirr- ing effect is noticed in these—several rows of shirring above the waist, and several more at the top of the skirt. This is a becoming fash- ion to slender figures, but is not to be advocated for stout people. It would be a pity, when there are so many styles to choose from, if stout people should elect to wear what never was intended for them. CaLLot georption Gown of brocade with guipure lace stole, The brocaded silks and satins trimmed with the front stole piece of lace are particularly good for stout women. Paquin Batt. gown of white satin covered with tulle pailleties. Chantilly flounce at the foot, and long train of coral-pink velvet, that forms part of the waist, and fastened in front with jewelled buttons.

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AUTUMN FASHION NOTES FROM PARIS: HERE seems to be a marked difference between styles for street and house gowns. Quite one of wettiest walking dresses I saw, from one of the smartest houses, was of very lustrous black cloth, with the skirt entirely covered with black bands forming V'sin front, These were piped with black lhe coat formed alittle V below the waist in front, wd had riding-habit basques in the back. On either side, under the arms, was what was called a sougle, a diamond shaped piece of embossed velvet. The coat was finished with jabot revers of caracal, with an inch-wide border of Satin Sutil Another lovely black gown was trimmed across the apron front and back with bias folds piped with white satin The side breadths were side pleats running from the waist-line to the very bottom of the skirt. The coat had soufiles and re- vers of violet velvet One very marked feature of the new things, that I have seen in at least five of the very smartest houses, is the use of color on outside gar- ments. Nine out of ten will have somewhere a touch of vale blue or scarlet or violet. | never saw a more striking unanimity io advance fashions. A black tailor gown, already made for the New York Horse Show. had white satin revers, with revers of pale blue cloth stretched over them, and an edge of pale blue in the col lar At my favorite dress- maker's, in the Rue de la Paix, I noticed coat revers of galloon in color—a charming fancy gulloon of blue and gold stitched on to cloth, for instance. A black velvet bo- lero had revers of red velvet bordered with chinchilla any note in When the bolero itself had no color, a bit was often in troduced in a vest, or a dépassant, which is a tiny border ton vest A certain dark blue gown of zibeline cloth had a gobs of Breitschwanz, and a dépassant of light blue, on which were blue and silver ornaments, by which the coat was closed. ‘The coat was bolero in sha It was made in a single piece. One would say the bolero was put on over this yoke and vest, and it had the appearance of being caught down to the Breitschwanz yoke, with three fancy buttons on each side. Both coat and skirt were trimmed with undulated bands of black cloth, stitch- ed. Another street dress was ornamented with braid in basket pattern, and this standard but always attrac- tive trimming seems to be very much used. I saw a velvet coat with simulated epaulettes at the top of the sleeves in this, cuffs of the same, and a pointed orna- ment running from collar and shoulder seams in the back to a point about half- way down. en. RINCESSE dresses and polonaises and redin- gotes seem to rule the fash- ion when it is a question of visiting and etme Stet Castor is to be one of the fa- vorite colors for the winter, and it comes in lovely soft materials, like zibeline cloths, India cashmeres, and chuddahs. A particularly dainty gown in castor chuddah cloth had a tiny surplice yoke of mignonette-green faille, with a surplice chemisette, cross- ed, like the yoke, in embossed velvet. Over this, below the yoke, the cloth waist was entirely made of stitched bands that showed the green through. They looked as though they were hooked over the under part, and there were loops of the same on the tops of the sleeves. The skirt was finished with a shaped ruffle, which gave the effect of being simply a continuation of the top, and whose only trimming was a strange pattern of ueedle-work, done in the cloth. Somebody will be sure CUT PAPER PATTERNS FOR AUTUMN Qm crc per—— GIRL'S CLOTH GOWN, Out Paper Pattern No. 1082.—(See Page 863.) to tell you that the shaped ruffle is no longer worn, It is, however, but with much less fulness. I saw a delightful model for a black cashmere trimmed with trou -trous, such as are used in lingerie, the little open-work inser- tions through which are run ribbons, and through these black open- work insertions were run white ribbons, The skirt was buttoned down the frout, with the fulness thrown in on the circle. Ove would say that the lower t had been cut off at the knees, and attached to the top y the trou-trous. The bottom was trimmed with several rows of these insertions, as was also the bodice. @n, N hats there is something quite new, and that is lovely things for winter trimmed with and even made of tulle. A bewitching turban of chestnut-brown tulle with great bouillons of velvet of the same color had a brown velvet border, on each side of which were painted peacock fea- thers. A dainty gray felt was trimmed with tulle and white wings. Many toques formed of tulle-covered velvet braids are among the most charming things for winter. These are simply trimmed with reat knots of velvet. lowers, it is said, are oing to be worn, but have not, so fur, seen them. The sketches rep- resent a particularly smart model for a vis- iting dress in gray cloth embroidered @ jour, and traversed by black velvet ribbon tied in bows, corre- —- with the lower sleeves, which are alsoin black velvet. The second is « theatre blouse of Chantilly and jet. The third is one of the new Louis XVI. evening bodices, in white faille with Pompadour flowers, with fichu of Parma violet mousseline de soie KATHARINE DE Forest. GIRL’S CLOTH GOWN. HIS pattern gown is simple to construct, but when finished presents an appearance of elabo- rate making which is at once fashionable and pleasing to the eye. The two-piece skirt, seamed in centre of back and front, is tucked upward diagonally from a central front point, the tucks meeting in the centre back seam. ‘The latter flares outward from the waist-line, supplying a graceful fulness to the back of the skirt. The bodice is tucked to correspond with the skirt, and is seamed in centre of front. The sleeves are tucked across the upper part, but have a plain lower or under-arm piece. ‘Tine lines for shaping the chemisette are perforated on the pattern. The back of the bodice, where the opening occurs, is slightly-cut out to harmonize with the front. The belt is shaped, and pattern accompanies that of costume. Perforations are clearly made for the tuck-lines of waist, skirt, and sleeve, so that no difficulty will be experienced in faithfully re- producing the illustration. The proportions of this pat- tern are exquisitely calculated to fit a ea ae of thirteen years. The skirt length, when fin . is thirty inches; the bust measure, thirty-one inches. These measurements will be found suitable for girls of from fourteen to sixteen years, according to growth. Of Venetian or other cloth 54 inches wide, 44 yards will be sufficient for the making of this costume. LIGHT BROWN ULSTER. CUT paper pattern of a lately imported garment is issued with this number of the Bazar. It is of full length, and adaptable for evening wear, driving, or the promenade. The back of the ulster is made with a single gore on each side of the centre seam. The latter is opened below the hip-line in order to facilitate the lifting of the skirt when necessary, but a fly may be introduced and a corresponding row of buttons, if desired, by which it may be secured when aclosed effect is wished for. A sufficient lap is left upon the under seam to prevent the garment from gaping during ordinary wear. here only a slight fastening is desired, a hook placed near the top of the opening wil! answer all purposes. The front of the garment is slightly shaped to the figure by shallow darts. Double capes, scalloped to mene the front and foot of the skirt, ornament the shoulders, and a high standing collar is finished in similar fashion. This collar should be interlined with three thicknesses of light but stiff canvas. If fur trimming be used, as in illustration, the best closing mediums will be small olives and loops, or a long “‘ fly” introduced under the inner points of the scallops. A very fashionable method of trimming this garment would be the cutting of an inch band of cloth (to be interlined with crinoline) to fit over the scallops, this to be closely stitched at intervals of an eighth of an inch. If the garment is to be lined, the inside material should be cut the width of a seam larger in every way and one inch more allowed at the shoulder seam. For the making of this ulster 5 yards of cloaking 54 inches wide will be required. LIGHT Cut Paper Pattern No. 207.—(See Page 868.) BROWN ULSTER.

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of ==] PARIS MILLINERY Ve.ver wat, trimmed with ostrich plumes, velvet roses, and soft tam-o"-shanter crown of crushed velvet. At the back of the hat long velvet streamers that are left to hang down the back or tied under the chin. Carlier model GREAT many of the new hats to be worn are fitted far down over the face, but they are a little larger in the crown than the shapes of last winter and this summer, and consequently fit farther down on to the head, and look very much better with the present style of hairdressing, which is a decidedly modified version of the Pompadour. The brim against the face is not always becoming, but the milliners have evidently recognized this fact, and no matter how plain the rest of the trimming may be, the brim is always soft ened by lace, or shirrings of velvet, or puffings of satin antique, so that the hard lines that are so exceedingly try- ing are quite done away with. Another good point about the winter hats is that they are more becoming to the side face than usual. Indeed, the lines seem to have been more studied with a view to what is becoming and suit able, and even with the hair worn plain ure not Loo severe. The trimming is still on the left side of the hat, as it has been from time immemorial, and there are only a very few styles in which the trimming is directly in front. These styles are the ones that have stiff bows or wings fastened with a rhinestone ornament. Even the feathers are put in at the left side, but quite close to the front, and then, as though not to be too decidedly in front, there is a velvet bow put at the side. There is one thing about the hats that is very comforting this season, and that is that it will not be necessary to buy a different piece of lace or fur for the neck for each bat that is worn, but anything that is becoming around the neck will look well with any one of the hats Poke bonnets are to be used a great deal, and look CaRuier ve.ver TorBan of two shades of brown, trimmed with bird, stiff quills, aud rhinestone buckles, AUTUNIN 2 WINTER } —— effective when worn with long coats and cloaks, and are very smart, but so novel that there is danger they will be conspicuous. Fortunately the poke bonnets are all small, and are really a charming modification of a picturesque style, and when worn with appropriate gowns are most at tractive, but a poke bonnet with a plain tailor costume is quite out of place. They require soft, fluffy neckwear and quite elaborate costumes. The newest poke bon- nets have small crowns, and the brims are faced with colored velvet or shirred satin antique put on quite plain, and there are bunches of rosettes, or in some cases flowers, tucked in under the brim just resting on the hair. This is rather coquettish, and requires a certain contour of face to be becoming, but modifications of it are very good, and the hat itself is very smart. The soft, full effect of trimming on the top of the hat is as much in favor as ever, and many an old hat of which the shape is good can be renovated to look like new with soft folds of dark velvet, provided the velvet is put on artistically. A line of bias velvet at the edge of the brim, and then inside this a shirred piece of velvet, make the hat look quite like new, and many of the newest hats are made in this way. Care must be taken, however, that the effect is not too heavy. The velvet must not be too much massed together, but left in more graceful folds. The velvet hats that are trimmed with ostrich feathers have the velvet put on in soft folds, aud then the feathers start from the front of the hat or a little to the left side, with ends hidden under a rosette of velvet. The feathers go CARLIER HAT OF BRAIDED VELVeT, trimmed with one large bird with wings outsprend. The brim can be of chenille, silk, or velvet braid, or of shirred chiffon. on either side of the brim, completely covering it, so that all that is seen is the velvet crown and the ostrich feathers on the brim. Tulle and velvet are combined with charming results in some small toques, trimmed only with a rhinestone orna ment of a very handsome description. There are still some of the gray tulle hats that were first seen last year. These are made of tulle with net that is heavily speckled with silver or with steel. They are all of gray, with no touch of black, and are very trying to most faces. When they are becoming they are delightfully so, but, as a rule, the color is too harsh against the face Perhaps the daintiest of all dress hats are those made of white lace, and they will be worn until quite late in the winter. They have rosettes or bows of velvet, that make them look more successful, as it were. The velvet is in some bright color—light blue, or even green—and of course royal purple velvet and lace contrast excellently. These hats will be worn with lace gowns, and will be considered fashionable until it is too cold to wear them any longer. There are some very odd hats in velvet, somewhat on the Russian turban style, although more in the capote shape. These are trimmed, as well as the very smart sum- mer hats, with white pigeons—the entire bird put on, the claws and beak a bright color, and the head of the bird thrust through a collar of rhinestones. The white or soft gray plumage of the bird shows to great advantage against the velvet of which the hat is composed, and this style will be very much worn with cloth costumes and also with velvet coats. It is difficult to make one of these hats without having it very heavy; but the milliners, ap parently, have overcome this difficulty successfully, as VELVET OR FELT TURBAN, With brim faced with cream lace, trimmed with velvet ribbon bows and bird-of-paradise plumes. lier model. Hat Car they use transparent wire frames, over which the folds of velvet are put. The velvet hats are, as a rule, of black or brown velvet, but there are some very artistic ones of gray velvet, just a shade darker or lighter than the plumage of the bird. The plumage is not dyed, but left in its natural color—some times all white with a touch of gray, and sometimes gray shaded almost into black. The color given by the bright claws and beak relieves the dove-color, but for mourning the claws are not colored. A curious effect was seen the other day in one of these hats, made of crépe and trimmed with white birds. It was certainly very startling, and had not the hat received the mark of approval of a fashionable milliner, would have been considered grotesquely inap propriate The great effort in all the winter hats is to have the folds of the material of which the hat is composed put to gether as softly as possible. Velvet lends itself best to this effect of any material, and fur, which will again be seen on many hats, is capital for this style. The very ex pensive fur bats of last year will hardly be discarded, but there are not so many fur styles shown. Of course it is a little early yet, but still not too early to see what is to be. A very attractive hat for every-day wear is made in tur- ban shape, with the crown of soft folds of black velvet The brim is faced with very fine Persian lamb, and there are wired bows of black satin that are edged with Persian lamb. This hat is trimmed with two white roses, also with green leaves. The combination-is extremely good and the model is one that is sure to be popular and much copied. VeLver on Fe.t nat, with shirring under the brim of silk or velvet The only trimming on the hat of velvet bows, put on to entirely cover the crown. Carlier model,

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) | TS: a HE Rev. James Wilmot was a young man with ideals. They were almost his sole inheritance from his dead father, a whole-souled visionary, who had lived and died in the firm faith that whatever is right, is. He could not remember the time when the pulpit had not been the goal of his ambitions. He kept the thought of it before him through the school where he fitted for the little country college, which he had chosen because of its cheapness and its reputation for religious influences. He trained himself for his future profession by diligence in Y.M.C.A. functions, by “taking an active part” in college and church prayer-meetings, by teaching in Sunday-school, and by helping iv any mission-work at hand. In the sem inary he belonged to the most thoughtful set of students. He studied clergymen and their methods then and in his »ost-graduate days, and with infinite pains and prayers he find formulated for himself a pastoral theory which, he felt, under divine guidance, could not fail to prove suc- cessful Mr. Wilmot did not look as though many anxieties weighed upon him, as he started out upon his round of pastoral calis an hour after his mid-day dinner. There was still freshness in the joy of possessing the pretty black mare and the light carriage that had been a gift of welcome from his parishioners. He had not sunk the man, or even the boy, in the parson, and he took thorough plea- sure in caring for and driving his new horse—the first he had ever owned. His mother had declined accompanying him to-day, on the plea of work at home, and he could not feel sorry. He loved his mother, of course, but they were not especially congenial, and this afternoon he had for so- ciety, besides his own contented thoughts, a letter inside his breast pocket from the dearest girl in the world. He had not yet confided his engagement to any mem- ber of his household of faith. Naomi had insisted that the new bond should remain a secret for a while at least. ‘*My dear boy, it would never do,” she declared. ‘‘I can't think of anything more likely to impair your use fulness at the very start. I mean what { say "—as he smiled. ‘* You will find that your people will take a great deal from a young unmarried pastor they would never stand from a clergyman with a wife” ‘* That opens up a bad prospect for my future success,” he said, with mock melancholy. “I know it does,” she returned, seriously. ‘* You really ought not to marry, you know. Clergymen never should, They do « great deal better work if they are no: cumbered with wives.” But there he had interrupted her, quite as if he had been an ordinary lover instead of a clergyman. He re hearsed the scene mentally, as he drove along, smiling at some parts of it, his heart throbbing with added quick- ness at others But the varying lines of meditation he was pursuing were pot allowed to render him careless of the passing parishioners. The Rev. James Wilmot had known too many clergymen whose usefulness had been greatly les- sened by their absent-mindedness to permit himself to stumble into this pitfall. He believed that by adapting the greeting to the individual be convinced exch that he or she held a special place in the pastor’s mind and heart, and that with this persuasion would come a confidence, an affection, which could do much toward strengthening the tie between them ‘That is the kind of thing St. Paul meant when he spoke of being all things to all men, if so by any means he might win some.” he said to himself No one who had followed the minister's course this afternoon could have failed to be impressed by the atten- tion he paid to the practice of his theory. His hat came off with a courtly sweep as he met the Mayor of the bor- ough driving with « carriageful of ladies. A wave of the hand and a hearty ‘‘ How are you?” were bestowed upon the stolid Dutch miller, who would not bare his head to any man. A nod and * Hullo, boys!” saluted a knot of baseball- players resting in a fence corner, and “ Good- afternoon, girls!” was called to a bevy of damsels crowded into « rickety carryall The fact that ‘‘the dominie” had the name of being “as easy as an old shoe” had much to do with his grow- ing popularity For it was growing. He recognized that himself, and a fervent thankfulness filled his heart as he drove home in the June sunset, after an unusually gratifying after noon of calls. His thoughts were so full of it thut be could not refrain from speaking of it to his mother, as they sat over the simple tea of brown bread, cheese, stewed pie-plant, and doughnuts. Mrs, Wilmot was a tea- drinker, but her son never took either tea or coffee ‘*T feel that I could not rebuke others for the use of strong stimulants if I myself took them, even in the mild- est form,” he said, when rallied upon his abstemiousness: “IL am really becoming convinced, mother,” he said, ‘*that | have a firm foothold in the church, and that my period of usefulness here may be a long one.” ‘1 didn’t suppose you'd ever had any doubt of it,” said his mother, rather dryly. ‘Oh, I never doubted that the call here was of God,” he returned, gravely; “but ever since I came I have spoken with exceeding frankness in the pulpit, and have By FC CLARKE. HIS PERIOD ~USEFULNESS- Terhune —"Tlerrick:_-—~ Christine DOES A CLERGYMAN’S PERIOD OF USEFULNESS END WHEN HE MARRIES? never hesitated to condemn the faults of the people, with out regard to their standing in the church or the com- munity, and such conscientiousness does not tend to make a man popular.” His mother made no reply, and after a few moments’ silence he spoke again. So-called conversations between them were generally carried on in this one-sided fashion. ‘*There are the Van Riper girls, for instance. 1 was not sure how they would take my remarks against dancing last Sunday night. You know, they are very fond of so- ciety. But I called there this afternoon, and they were as pleasant and cordial as though nothing had happened.” “You were pretty pleasant and cordial to them, weren't you?” asked his mother. ** Well, of course I tried to be as agreeable as I could,” he owned, rather reluctantly. “Humph! I thought so! They are not going to quar- rel with a good-looking young man, where there’s so few in the neighborhood, too, even if he does preach against dancing,” said Mrs. Wilmot, as she rose and began to gather up the dishes. If her son winced, she did not notice it, and when he stood alone upon the pas again, he took himself to task because he had shrunk from her putting into plain speech his efforts to win the liking of his people. Was not his pastoral theory justified by the experiences of this very day? His confidence might have been less firm could he bave overheard the conversation that was taking place at the same time over the Van Riper supper table. The head of the house was a well-todo farmer of Dutch descent, with a wife of the same type, but the younger members of the family cherished social aspirations. The only son, Ben, a brisk young fellow of about thirty, went to the city to business every day. The two daughters had been ste dnished ” at a second-rate city boarding -school, and these unusual advantages bad given them, in their own eyes, a decided importance in Goyne society. **So Wilmot was here again to-day?” said Ben. ‘‘ Seems to me that’s getting to be a pretty regular thing—eh, Amelia?” Amelia blushed broadly and unbecomingly. ** Ob, I don't know,” she said; “ he don’t come here any oftener than he goes to other places, I guess.” “No harm if he did,” spoke up Anna, sharply. She was the second daughter, and much prettier than her sis- ter, but there was a shrewish cast to her countenance that boded ill for her maturer charms. ** 1 didn’t say there was any harm,” retorted her bro- ther; “but I never could see what women wanted with a parson hanging about. No matter how sensible girls are about other things, they always lose their wits over a minister.” Anna broke into a shrill laugh. ** Perhaps Jennie De Witt can tell you the reason,” she said. ‘* He’s there about as often 's he’s here.” “I don’t care if he is,” growled the brother. Jennie was the present object of his particular attentions, and the shot told. “She can make as big a fool of herself about him as she likes, for all of me.” Mrs. Van Riper tried to restore concord. ** Come, come, now!” she said, soothingly; *‘ I can’t have you quarrelling over the dominie. He's a nice young man, and I will say he does show great interest in all the people. Don’t you think so, father?” Mr. Van Riper grunted an inarticulate assent from be- hind the weekly paper. The son laughed unpleasantly. ** Oh, of course you all back him up! That’s what I say. A woman thinks everything a parson says or does is law and gospel. It makes me sick to see how you all run to bim about everything. You can’t get up a fair or a cake sale or a church sociable without asking him how to do it. You could get along all right by yourselves when old Dominie Schenck was here, but now it’s ‘ What will Mr. Wilmot think?’ and ‘ We must consult Mr. Wil- mot,’ until it makes me tired.” **Don’t mind him, Amelia,” said Anna, maliciously: ** it’s just jealousy because the girls don’t pay him so much attention since Mr. Wilmot came.” **Much I care about the girls.” said Ben, roughly. ‘* But I should think you'd have more pride than to let any man row you up from the pulpit as he did last Sun- day night, and ther be as sweet as honey to him the next time you see him.” **Oh, I don’t know that he was scoldin’ from the pul- pit,” Mrs. Van Riper made « weak protest. ** Served you right if he did.” Mr. Vau Riper had laid down his paper. ‘‘I don’t hold to church members dancin’ till all hours of the night, and I think the dominie wouldn't be doin’ his duty if he didn’t speak about it. I told him so only to-day, when I met him on the road. Says I to him, ‘Dominie,’ says 1, ‘ pitch into ‘em,’ says I. * Now you've been a-talkin’ to the girls, give it to the boys. Talk to em about Sunday bicycle-ridin’, says I, ‘ and give it to’em hot and heavy.’ ‘Mr. Van Kiper,’ says he, ‘your advice coincides with my jedgment. I’ve been nnin’ a sermon on that very subjeck. It’s of burnin’ mportance,’ says he.” **Oh, it is, is it?” burst in young Van Riper, angrily. “ Well, I guess he'll find it of such ‘ burning importance’ that he'll get his fingers scorched if he meddles with it. Why can’t he mind his own business and let other folks alone? If he don’t, I'll keep away from his old church, and I’d just as lief tell him so. Darn his impudence!” He stamped out of the room and banged the door. Mrs. Van Riper sighed deeply, but long experience had taught ber that her objections and arguments carried lit- tle weight with either son or daughters. There could be no doubt that the sermon on Sunday wezeiag created a sensation. It could not be denied that the dominie gave offence by some of his remarks. He stigmatized the Sunday bicyclist as ‘‘one who violated the law of God and outraged the religious sense of the community.” He presented statis- tics as to the number of whvelmen and wheelwomen who were out on the road on Sunday. He reckoned the con- sequent depletion of church and Sunday-school, and dwelt upon the deterioration of spiritual character that must in- evitably accompany this neglect of religious privileges. He pointed out that the riders were not only injuring their own souls, but were corrupting the principles of others. ** There is one now,” he exclaimed, as the quick clang of a bicycle gong was heard outside, “ going swift down into the pit!” The minister hac a very bad quarter of an hour in his study after that sermon. Not that he regretted having preached it. He had not decided upon it hastily or un advisedly, he had told himself. On the contrary, he had given the matter long thought and prayer. His misgiv- ings were due not so much to his choice of a subject as to the manner in which he had treated it. He had planned out a dignified, earnest rebuke of what he considered a crying evil. The time had come, he had felt, and felt still, when all the power of the pulpit should be exerted to check this desecration of the Port's day In this conviction he had prepared and written his sermon, and committed its heads to memory. On this point he had as strong convictions as were ever held by the Auld Lichts. He felt that to hold a congregation the pastor must speak to them eye to eye, with no barrier of a written sermon between them. Perhaps no part of Mr. Wilmot’s ministerial work was so difficult to him as this. In a literally memorized ser- mon he was always in mortal dread of losing his place and forgetting the connection. On this memorable day he had followed the line of argu- ment he had marked out for himself tolerably well until his sermon was more than half over. But there was something lacking. He was not in touch with his audi- ence, and he was disturbed, too, although he hardly appfe- ciated it, by the unexpected presence of a visiting clergy- man, whose close attention was at once flattering and em barrassing. It was in an effort to shake off his own hes- itancy, and to rouse his bearers to interest, that he had launched into his final arraignment of the Sunday bicy- clist which had terminated with his unfortunate anti- climax. He recalled little of how he had concluded the sermon. He remembered only the irrepressible flash of amusement that had crossed the face of his clerical guest, and his own confusion. “Well,” he said to himself, closing his unpleasant meditations with a deep sigh, ‘this will at least prove whether I have a hold on the people or not.” Several weeks passed before he dared believe that his place in their affections was still firm. There had been some unwelcome experiences, meanwhile, in the shape of cold looks, curt greetings, and unfriendly comments. He met them all with outward composure and unvarying kindliness, and let no opportunity slip for winning friends iv any and every quarter. He was an especial favorite among women—old and young. He had a graceful fash- ion of asking their advice and deferring to their judg- ment that they appreciated. His mother had spoken a profound truth when she said that girls would not readily quarrel with an attractive young man, even if he found fault with them, and he conscientiously confined his re- bukes to the pulpit. Outside of it he was genial. merry, and lovable, and from a man who is » thoroughly good companion in private life much can be tolerated in his public capacity. Wilmot had never felt more thankfully secure of his place in the hearts of his people than on the last Sunday in September. There was a happy flutter about his heart when he rose to give out the last hymn, and it affected his voice as he told the congregation that he had chosen this time to make an announcement that was of impor tance to them as well as to himself. He would begin his three weeks’ vacation upon the following day. When he returned he would, by God's will, bring with him one who—who would, he trusted, aid him materially in his work among his dear people, and to whom he hoped they would speedily grant a place in their hearts like unto that they had granted him. And then he stopped for a moment to clear his voice. When he spoke again, it was only a few words. * T expect,” he said, ‘to be married, on the 2d of Octo- ber, to Miss Naomi Milford, of Fairhaven, New Jersey. I — you will all come to see us as soon as we return.” hen he gave out the hymn.

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“You would have been really touched,” he said to Naomi, when he described the scene to her, a week later, ‘*to have seen how the people crowded up with their con- ——— the moment the service was over. I was eeply gratified. I would have given a great deal to have had you there.” “T am afraid I am bad enough to be glad I wasn’t,” said Naomi, a little wilfully. ‘‘My dear Jamie, we will have to belong to ‘ the people’ the rest of our days.” Do let us be selfish for this one chance of our lives and just belong to one another.” She showed no trace of such feeling, however, when —_ were once established in their — home. She took hold of the church work with the skill of one who had served a long apprenticeship in such duties. She tended all the services, and accompanied her husband upon many of his pastoral calls. All the men and the older women ‘‘ took to her” at once. If the younger wo- men yielded their allegiance more reluctantly, Wilmot did not perceive it. He was busier than ever now, in his de- termination to neglect no part of his pastoral duties, and his desire to pt as much time as possible with Naomi. To his joy, and a little to his surprise, his wife and his mother seemed to understand each other wonderfully well, and there was none of the friction he had vaguely feared. It was a very happy autumn. Not until along towards Christmas did it begin to dawn upon him that there was not quite the enthusiasm over church work that he had found the preceding winter. When he first noticed it he gave absorption in holiday preparations credit for the change. But the gala season came and went and winter settled down in earnest, and still there was no increase of zeal. The always-faithful sisterhood of elderly women were regular in their attend- ance at church meetings and sewing societies, but there was something lacking. Unconsciously he missed the deference and devotion which had come to him like daily bread during the first year of his pastorate. The girls no longer appealed to him for advice concerning their circles and clubs and ‘‘ tens,” and, rather to his surprise, there had been a perceptible decrease in the spiritual difficulties of the young women of his congregation. After a while he spoke of the latter change to Naomi. “I think it argues well for the spiritual condition of the church,” he said. His eyes twinkled a little as she looked at him. “‘Dear Jamie, you are too good and guileless for this wicked world,” she said. ‘‘T am nothing of the sort,” he protested, with the an- noyance most men feel when accused of innocence, “‘ and I fail to see why you should make such a remark in this connection.” ** 1 didn’t mean to tease you, dear,” she said, more grave- ly. ‘Iam very glad of any sign of spiritual growth in the church.” The subject was dropped, but Wilmot thought of it often afterwards. He began to wonder if he were doing his duty by his people. It troubled him that the church attendance was less full than it bad been a year ago. It was with a keen pain that he overheard a remark at the close of the service one day, as he made his way to the door to shake hands with his departing parishioners. “If I'm going to be scolded at like that when I come to church, I guess I'll stay away.” The speaker was Anna Van Riper. She had been irreg- HARPER’S BAZAR ular in her church attendance for some time, but she had not been in the minister's thoughts during his morning's address, and the sense of misunderstanding, where hereto- fore he had found only approbation, cut him to the quick. One day in early June, when Wilmot was out on a pas- toral round, he stopped at Mrs. Van Riper’s. The old lady was alone, a most unusual occurrence, and so un- feignedly glad to see the dominie that in a little while he found himself pouring out his troubles to her. She lis- tened with a genuine sympathy, and then brought out her stores of comfort. ** Now, Dominie,” she said, ‘‘don’t you be gettin’ dis- couraged. Bless your sou)! it ain’t near so bad as it was in old Dominie Schenck’s time, or when we hadn’t any pastor there for a while. You see, when you first came, you were somebody new; and then,” with a laugh, ‘‘un- married men always draw better than married ones. But the church will get along all right, and you mustn’t mind what silly folks say.” **What folks say!” So, then, they were saying some- thing. Wilmot thought of it very seriously as he drove home. Had he lost his hold? Had he made a mistake? Was there something in a church that he had failed to provide for in his pastoral theory? The coming of summer in Goyne always meant the arrival of several families of cottagers and farm-house boarders. They seldom came to church, and Wilmot considered their influence upon the residents distinctly bad. In the sermon he preached the Sunday after his call upon Mrs. Van Riper, he referred to the example of these men and women of the world, who would, by their carelessness and love of pleasure, lead astray, if possible, the very elect. He urged his people to be on their guard to avoid these entanglements, and implored them, when sinners enticed them, to consent not. He pointed out there must be a line drawn between the church and the world, between the sheep and the goats. As usual, he preached without notes, but there was no want of direct- ness in his address. He followed this up by other and more searching ser- mons. He devoted his days to pastoral calls, his even- ings to study. “If by any means I may win some,” he said, with a sad smile to his wife, when she protested against his un- resting toil. ‘‘ Although I don’t know that it is of any use,” he added, in a discouraged tone. ‘‘ Do what I will, I cannot bring either church services or social meetings up to the high-water mark they touched last year. The fault is in me, I know.” ‘Are not your sermons a little too severe, Jamie?” ventured his wife. ‘‘ You know, people weary of rebuke after a while.” ‘*They were not repelled by it last year,” returned her husband. “Dear,” said Naomi, gravely, ‘‘do you remember my old arguments in favor of the celibacy of the clergy?” It was mid-September, when Wilmot was told one day that Mr. Van Riper and Mr. De Witt had called to see him. Both were elders in the church, and he felt a sick qualm at heart as he went in to meet them. There was an un- pleasant pause after the greetings were over. Then Mr. De Witt, the owner of the principal village store, cleared his throat and began. ‘**We have come on a—a rather painful errand, Mr. Wil- mot,” he said, ‘‘ and it is as well to state it at once. There 841 has been some dissatisfaction lately at the severity with which you have admonished the pose in your sermons. The think you drive your ploughshare a /eetle too deep.” ‘TI have tried to be faithful in reproving sin, Mr. De Witt,” said the minister, sturdily. . “That's all right enough, Dominie,” broke in Mr. Van Riper, ‘* but folks get tired of bein’ scolded whenever the come to church. hear em talk, an’ 1 know. It’s well enough once in a while, but they say they’re havin’ too much of it.” ** Just that,” chimed in the other elder. ‘It’s all right to preach about temperance and such things—there don’t many of our people drink, anyway—but you know, Dom- inie, there’s some of our young folks here never got over that sermon on bicycle-riding. I know mine haven't. Since Jane's engaged, Ben and she often go out for a little spin Sundays—after church, of course—and there's always se making reference to their going down swift into- the pit.” The minister winced. Before he could reply, Mr. Van Riper spoke. **Oh, I didn’t mind that sermon,” he said. “1 don’t ridea wheel myself, though I b’lieve you do, Brother De Witt. But that sermon about summer ple was kind of ill- jedged. You know, we take boarders in the summer, and some of them was at church that day, and they ’ain’t never let us hear the last of it.” “Thatisn’tall,” pursued Brother De Witt. “You did real- ly give serious offence by your remarks about using tobacco, a couple of Sundays ago. Not being a smoker myself, it didn’t hurt me, but I guess it rather touched Brother Van Riper here and a g many others. I'm afraid, Dominie, you'll have to give a little more thought to the gentleness of the gospel, and not so much to the terrors of Sinai. We're under the noo dispensation now, you know.” ** Yes, 1 know,” said Wilmot. There was another painful silence. This time the min- ister broke it. “ Brethren,” he said, “‘ this is not altogether a surprise to me. For some time it has been borne in upon me that my usefulness to this church was becoming impaired. I blame no one for this but myself. I have made a mistake some- where. Perhaps I expected too much—” He stopped. ‘*May I trouble you to take the needed steps about calling the consistory together?” he went on, firmly. **There should be no delay about this. It would be de- sirable to have another pastor settled here before winter.” **Well, I don’t know about that,” said Mr. De Witt. “It might be as well to do a little candidating first.” ‘‘There’s a very promisin’ young friend of Anna’s— well, I might say of all of us—just out of the seminary, that could be got as a supply,” suggested Mr. Van Riper. “Time enough to see about that, Brother Van Riper,” interposed Mr. De Witt. ‘‘ Dominie, I feel we must thank you for your very generous action in this matter. Of course it’s the good of the people that’s to be considered, and if your period of usefulness is over, it’s better to reckonize the fact as a fact, and have no hard feelings about it.” ‘I fully agree with you,” said the minister. He accompanied them to the front porch, and stood there for a minute after they had left. ‘**My period of usefulness,” he said, aloud. Then he went up stairs to tell his wife. “I AM REALLY BECOMING CONVINCED, MOTHER,” HE SAID, “THAT I HAVE A FIRM FOOTHOLD IN THE CHURCH.”

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; . : / . | . ; LONDON altkin * » Sime.e eraest cows, made with plaid skirt and dark velvet or cloth jacket This jacket can also be made of far, if so UT-WORK, appliqué, and braiding are all used this year on cloth costumes, and the work on many of these gowns is simply exquisite, but, like the summer gowns, means considerable ad- ditional expense. The long coats of smooth cloth or velvet are almost invariably trimmed in this fash- ion. There are large conventional designs cut out of vel- vet or some contrasting material, and these are appliquéd on to the cloth. Sometimes they will be put all over a long coat, then there will be a cape and sleeves covered with smaller figures of the same design outlined with narrow braid. The effect is very handsome, but there is danger of its being overdone, particularly when attempted in machine stitching. In sharp contrast to the trimming of many of the costumes of the winter, there are some be Cioran Gown oF PeKiwinkKLe ator, trimmed with machine stitching and a bow of darker velvet, with rhinestone buckle, Clots waLKine costume, trimmed with bands of white cloth with machine stitch- ing of black. Pointed revers, and turned- desired. over collar of white cloth with the black the fur. Capuchin hood, trimmed with machine stitching. a band of fur. ing made up absolutely plain. The only trimming is a handsome buckle and buttons, either jewelled or of gold. Velvet costumes, consisting of a long princesse coat and under-skirt, made with the front and side breadths bound around the foot with velvet, the rest of silk, will have no trimming except on the revers or where the coat fastens over one side and the folds are fastened with a jewelled buckle. The imported velvets are combined with the plain velvets, and are used with revers and collars, and sometimes with belts. The latest news from London is that there are to be two or three new models in skirts. One that was spoken of some time ago, with box-pleats in the back, is improved by having one box-pleat, and is also to be used on gowns of thin material, like crépe de Chine, light-weight crépon, and light wool. This box-pleat is rather difficult to man- age, and when two pleats are used in the back of the skirt, great care must be taken that they are properly shaped; a little narrower just at the belt, then broadening out as they go down the skirt. This is a great im- provement to the absolutely plain skirts, and is peculiarly suited to the circular shape, for it can be made so that it will be handsome enough for the opera or theatre, but it is too smart to wear in the daytime for a street gown. Be it understood, by street gown, going to receptions or any day entertainments. A good model is one that is tight-fitting in back and with rather fuller skirts than has been fashionable, and with loose fronts that fasten across or can be turned open half-way down. These fronts and high collar must be faced with some effective material— brocade, velvet, or shirred chiffon, or, best of all, with fur. They will be made up in cloth of a bright color, in red, blue, tan, or light gray, and there will also be a num- ber of black satin and black brocades lined with bright satin. There were several very smart satin cloaks and coats last year, but the fashion was not so universally adopted as it will be this season. Care must be taken, however, not to buy too cheap a quality of satin, for it will soon look rusty and poor. One style of street gown that is very fashionable this year is only becoming to a woman with a very good fig- ure. It is a princesse gown with a square bolero jacket, and is made only in smooth-faced cloths. Those that have the finest satin finish are preferred, and there is no trimming on the gown excepting a band of embroidery on the under-skirt, which shows just below the princesse over-dress. The jacket fronts are heavily braided, and are sometimes covered with cut-work. An odd fancy is to have this style of gown made with the bolero jacket of silk or satin or velvet. As has been said, it is not always becoming, and is to be classed among the eccen- tric styles; but as it has been worn by very smartly gowned women, it has taken a place that makes it neces- a to mention it. ‘he waistcoats will form quite a feature of the winter gowns. Indeed, the waistcoats and revers often make it possible for one gown to do duty for several different oc- casions. There are some waistcoats that are tight-fitting; others are in loose effect with surplice folds. Some are double-breasted, cut like the fancy waistcoats that the men wear. Others again are single-breasted, open in V shape at the neck to show a lace chemisette, collar, and tie. The black gowns and the very dark colors can be re- lieved by the narrow bands of cloth, either of white stitched with black, or with the same color. One of the smartest gowns turned out this season is of a tan eloth made in a very simple design, with close-fitting skirt and medium -length three-quarter jacket. Just below the edge of the skirt and outlining the coat are bands of black velvet, stitched with white silk in quite a loose machine stitch. In sharp contrast to this costume, but Tan colors waar, trimmed with ruffle of sable or mink, lined with white satin, and finished with a ruffle of lace inside os ices TUMES “meitva BLack OLOTH MOURNING OOSTUME, trimmed on the skirt with two rows of crépe; vest and collar of crépe, and large bow of crépe fastening the jack- et fronts. evidently moulded on the same idea, is a black satin-fin- ished cloth gown with an edge of white satin. The white cloth bands, revers, and cuffs do not soil any sooner than the satin, and are rather better because they can more easily be cleaned without losing their color. This same fashion is also carried out in cloth and fur. A superb cloak of light tan cloth is cut in scallops, and the scallops are put over a band of Persian lamb. The entire coat is lined with white satin, and is of course a very expensive garment. The dark cloth coats with the plaid skirts are always pretty and effective, but of course are not suitable for afternoon wear. The plaids are of all sizes, and certainly cannot be credited to any known Scottish clan. om Cesber Garen VENETIAN CLOTH WALKING costume, made with strapped seams and sheathlike skirt. The jacket is trimmed with revcrs of embroidered velvet, and embroidered velvet vest.

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Gultumn and Winter CADES? COATS? WRADS* Avtumn saoxer of red cloth braided in black, with one rever fast- ening in jabot fashion. Black hat, trimmed with black chiffon. feathers, and jet. HE woman who is not suited this season in an out- side jacket or wrap will be exceedingly hard to please, for there are certainly every known and many unknown styles to choose from, and the length of the coats needs only to be decided by the wearer choosing something that is becoming. There are a number of short jackets that are longer in the back than in front, made of cloth, double-breasted, and with very charming revers that are covered with braiding or lace, Ov we “; Lone coat of beige cloth entirely covered with embroidery and braiding, to be worn over a satin under-gown trimmed across the bottom of the skirt with a band of jet embroidery, and with a waist- coat embroidered in jet. and that fold over in jabot fashion, the coat fastenin tight at the throat. The collar fits high in the neck, an has inside tabs to match the revers. his is a very effec- tive style in blue, green, tan, or black, and the braiding can be either in black or some contrasting color. There is no fulness in the tails of the coat, but it is opened in the back, so that it does not look at all scant. The sleeves are quite small, and have a turned-over cuff. Fur-lined coats and capes are one of the features of this year’s fashions. They are made in the long coats, in the medium-length coats, and in the capes, and, fortunately for the majority of people, are not so expensive that they are only possible for rich people. There is a medium- length cape of dark blue cloth that is lined with squirrel fur, and trimmed with appliqué of cut-work. It fastens tight in the throat, with a ‘high flaring collar, and the fronts are allowed to hang loose, or one end can be pulled through a cloth strap. Another style of cloth wrap that is lined with fur is modelled after the cloaks of last year, with three seams in the back, fitting close to the figure, and with a shaped ruffle, either of velvet or of the cloth faced with satin. Very few of the fur-lined coats or cloaks, particularly when they are made long, have the fur lining all the way to the bottom of the coat. When quite near the bottom of the coat, a facing of satin is put in that is much lighter. The fur jackets are most attractive made up in a very smart way, and quite pretty enough to wear at receptions and for very smart occasions. Seal-skin has come back Tieut-ritrine sacKker of seal skin, with high standing collar and revers of chinchilla far. Yoke and tie of white mousseline de soie. Griinwaldt model. into favor, while the baby-lamb is as much used as ever. The tight-fitting fur coats are considered the smartest just now, made to be worn open, and show a vest also of fur, and with high standing collar that tapers into a revers, and is faced with chinchilla or sable. Jewelled buttons are another addition to these fur coats, that are altogether the daintiest garments that have been turned out for a long time. The woman whose figure looks well in a long plain coat will be immensely smart this season, for the long coats are the correct thing to have. There is a bewilder- ing number of different styles, some exceedingly plain, others rather elaborately trimmed. One style that is half- fitting is trimmed with four ruffles, and has four capes, and capes and flounces are all trimmed with braid, or else are machine-stitched. ‘This style of coat is made up in cloth, in satin, and in cloth and fur combined. It opens in front nearly to the knee, and is not so long that it hides the under-skirt. It is a very warm, comfortable garment, but should not be made of too heavy a material, as the amount of cloth required is in itself cumbersome. There are very few three-quarter-length coats—it would seem as though more attention had been paid to the short and the long; and there are a number of loose-fitting cloaks that are included under the head of cloaks that will be a great addition to any thorough wardrobe. And these will be used not only for street wraps, but for car- riage wraps. They are, almost without exception, made with sleeves, and in this way are quite possible for street wear. Those that are made without sleeves require to be much fuller, in order to entirely cover the evening gown, without in any way mussing or crumpling the material of the gown. Autumn on wrvter care of heliotrope velvet, embroidered with a darker shade of velvet cut-work, that is appliqued with heavy cord. The entire cape is lined with ermine. The short capes are extremely useful garments. For the present season the golf cape is suitable for many other occasions than playing golf. But a still more use- ful investment is the cloth cape made in the same design, but lined with fur. It must havea high collar, that can be worn either standing or turned down. Bright-colored cloths are used for these capes, and a more elaborate effect can be given by having them trimmed with fur around the collar. It is apparently one of the fads of the season to use bands of fur quite as much as the solid effects. A very attractive dark blue cloth has a ruffle of the same material, and above the ruffle a band of black fox fur, and the high collar is also outlined with fur. This style of cape can be worn for many different occasions. It is suitable for street wear, but is also quite smart enough for an evening wrap. Lone PRIVING Ox sTRert coat of cloth, trimmed with black braid, and worn with velvet skirt; high collar of velvet, finished with double bow tied at the throat.

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HARPER’S BAZAR 844 FALL AND WINTER FASHIONS FOR CHILDREN.—(See Pacer 863.)

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i= br) House Gowns hod Nedlioe's |e Breaxrast sacket of rose-colored crépon, with a yoke tucked in squares. rows of black velvet baby-ribbon. EGLIGE style of dress is permitted in a woman's wardrobe only in her matinée and tea gown, and this year the tea gowns are built on more rigorous lines than usual, and really look more like the Greek style of dress made over a fitted lining. ‘There is an unusual number of pretty breakfast jackets among the négligés this year, all of which are be coming in style, of very dainty materials, and all are so made as to define the figure, and not have the least look of a loose sacque or bed-room wrapper. Some are made of light flannel, others of silk; others again are of lace, while satin and lace are combined in most quaint and attractive devices. There are a great many that are made of India silk, but of the heavier quality, and are lined throughout with a thin flannel lining that makes them quite warm enough even in winter. They are all trimmed with pretty ruffles or berthas or fichus of lace and em- broidery, and one or two especially dainty fashions have N&etiet Gown of pale tan woollen, figured with dark biue flowers. Made with fitted back and loose front, the left front crossing over and caught up in folds of Revers and cuffs faced with coarse tan lace. yoke and collar threaded with black velvet baby-ribbon, finished in front with rosette. the waist-line, where it fastens. Bertha of cream mousseline de soie, trimmed with three fur put on in narrow bands. Fur against lace is always a charming combination, and especially so when the gar- ment with which it is used is of silk or satin. But the dark furs look best; sable or mink or beaver is far more effective than chinchilla or ermine. One little négligé that has a very well-fitting lining most carefully boned has a loose front, a deep yoke collar of lace outlined with fur, and a large lace bow at the bust, with long ends of accordion-pleated chiffon. There is a touch of a Turkish costume in one very pretty style of matinée or breakfast jacket that is made of satin, — close-fitting, and with loose fronts of lace that are held in place with a bolero jacket that is trimmed with an appliqué of lace. The sleeves only come to elbow, and are finished with a ruffle of lace, but there are inside sleeves of pleated chiffon that extend down over the hands. It is odd to notice in all these new jackets that the neck is finished quite high at the throat with velvet, lace, or jewelled collar, and flaring tabs from the inside of the collar. The brocaded silks and satins are very much in favor for tea gowns, and the larger the figure of the design, the more effective it is. These materials are so elaborate in themselves they do not require a great deal of trimming, and their beauty depends very much on how they are made. The simpler the design the better, but there must always be deep lace collar and cuffs, and a good-fitting under-waist of lace. No stated color is given for these gowns, but the self-toned brocades are the best. These Néeniet sacket made of satin, lace, and mousseline de soie; trimmed with rosettes of narrow black velvet ribbon, and finished at the neck with velvet collar and bow, gowns can be made to wear with plain satin petticoats or under-skirts, and can be left loose from the shoulders, opening in front to show the satin petticoats, provided the gown is well fitted at the side seams. Tea gowns are more elaborate than ever before,and are so much like the princesse gowns that it is diffi- cult to distinguish them. The very newest, however, have the tight-fitting princesse gown of silk or satin, over which is slipped the long train or over-dress edged with fur. Indeed, fur and velvet edging plays a large part in the trimming of the tea gowns this season. Lace is not neglected, for many of the tea gowns have entire under-skirts of lace; others are made with lace petticoats, while again there are others that are trimmed with long pieces of lace that form a yoke in front, and then have long tabs that fall to the very hem of the skirt. The combining of colors in these gowns is very cleverly done—fortunate it is, because so much de- pends upon it. There are certain shades of pink and blue that are put together that turn out well, while a heliotrope velvet made over a pale yellow satin is most beautiful. Sharp contrasts in black and white are not nearly so fashionable as all black or all white, al- though white lace is used on some very well- turned-out black gowns, and the entire black gowns trimmed with jet and steel are infinite- ly better. The all-white gowns are perhaps Small Breakrast sacket of dull blue-green cashmere and guipure lace made over a green silk foundation. The folded bands of cashmere, the bow, and the collar are edged with a very narrow border of fur, the smartest of any turned out, but they are simply a mass of embroidery and lace with edging of white fur, and most gorgeous pearl embroidery put on down the fronts or in the yoke. White crépe de Chine combined with white velvet and white satin and white lace thrown in certainly makes a combination that is, to say the least, effective, while a plain white satin gown with a brocade of large flowers and a petticoat of white lace trimmed with bands of sable or mink fur is most exquisitely pic- turesque, and, strange to say, can be accomplished without fabulous expenditure. Tra cown of burnt-orange crépe de Chine, with long over-dress of deep blue velvet edged with sable far. The sleeves are of crépe de Chine puffed and gathered, and yoke and collar are of deep russet- color guipure lace.

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—— — a tneeeenen nO Al Contident To-morzn CHAPTER XIX. FTER the election the cir- culation of Manhattan in- creased for a week or two, and then began to decline. Neither Sartain nor Truax could understand why it was that the paper did not appeal to a larger circle of readers, They had put their heads together and prepared a most alluring series of announcements for the next year; and as this would be expensive, they consulted Dircks, who had hitherto paid the weekly deficit without a murmur, He listened, transfixing first Truax and then Sartain with a glance from under his immense eyebrows. His fingers were gripping and ungripping the handle of the big cotton umbrella he sometimes carried. He heard them out, and then he asked, ‘‘ What ’ll it cost?” When he was told, he said, slowly: ‘‘ That’s a sight of money, but I'll risk it, if you say so. I got it now, any- way The publisher of the paper pointed out that they might hope to get back in subscriptions before New- Year's all they had expended in this Christmas advertising. ‘I suppose you might as well have it, sooner or later,” was all Dircks answered. But as he was going out of the door of the office he stopped on the threshold and turned back to ask, ‘‘ How much did you say we lost this week?” Truax gave him the figures ‘**T wouldn't mind it,” the old man declared, “if you'd only go for these scoundrels harder. Show them up!— that’s what the paper's for, ain't it?” During the last two weeks of the year the sales of Man- hattan remained stationary; there were fewer subscrip- tions renewed than Truax expected, and fewer new sub- scribers. Sartain did what he could to reduce expenses. He wrote all the editorial articles himself, and he con- tributed nearly every week one signed article. He was particular not to buy any manuscript, however tempting it might be in theme or in treatment, unless he could use it immediately; and he kept down the stock of accepted contributions as low as he dared. For the new year he had announced his new serial, A Wolf at the Door, as by “8. Francis,” the author of Dust and Ashes, not having himself acknowledged its author- ship; and he began to prepare a series of ‘‘ Portraits in Black and White,” to appear one every week. These he resolved to sign by another pen -name, “* Rembrandt, Knickerbocker,” appropriate to the sharp and etcherlike manner in which he intended to handle certain contem- porary notabilities. The first of these chiar-oscuro studies of his fellow-citizens was to be devoted to the President of the United States, the second to the Governor of the State, the third to the Mayor of the city; these three offi- cials being disposed of, he meant to consider in turn the chief authors, painters, actors, architects, and sculptors of New York. Foremost among the men of letters to have their por- traits painted in this series was Vivian; and Sartain set himself conscientiously to re-read all the elder author's books in chronological sequence, that he might trace the development of Vivian's talent. With a surprise that grew as he re-read volume after volume of Vivian's writ- ings, he discovered that he could no longer assign to the elder author so high a place as he had hitherto given him. It came upon him with a certain shock that he had out- grown Vivian, that he had passed beyond the stage in which such writing as Vivian's was to be admired inevi- tably, and that perhaps, after all, he had been setting too high a value upon Vivian's work. Being modest, he distrusted his own judgment at first, and read on and on, hoping to find reason to return to his earlier estimate. Being honest, he had to ask himself whether his feeling towards the author bad not been changed weg by his knowledge that the man was attentive to Esther Dircks. But he was forted regretfully to the conclusion that Vivian's work had limitations he had not seen before; it was clever, unfailingly clever, but cleverness itself no longer appealed to him as it did when he was in college; it was shrewd, it was polished, and it was always as care- ful as possible—and this was perhaps why it now struck Sartain as a little hard in its manner and as somewhat monotonous. It was not superficial, and it was not nar- row, certainly, but it did lack depth and breadth. The ingenuity with which the stories were compounded was obvious—perhaps, indeed, it was only too evident; and Sartain saw that if he were a hostile critic he would be tempted to call it almost mechanical. Without being a hostile critic, with the utmost friendliness for Vivian, with gratitude towards him for many kindnesses received, with a real liking for the man himself, Sartain came sad- ly to the conclusion that the failing of these novels he had once admired unhesitatingly—the fatal failing, as it seemed to him now—was that they lacked ‘‘the rudd drop of human blood,” as Lowell had called it. Their damning defect was the absence from their pages of any convincing portrayal of humanity. In other ways also those last weeks of the year were a season of doubt and a time of reaction, There was a change in the attitude of Esther Dircks towards him; he did not understand just what it was nor why it should be, but he felt it of a certainty. After the supper in the studio on election night she was more distant. Her man- ner had always been friendly, and she had always greeted him as though glad to see him. Sometimes Sartain had Begun in Haxrar’s Bazar No. 27, Vol. XXXII. By BRANDER felt like resenting this equable friendliness, as less prom- ising towards a lover than an obvious aloofness. But now that the friendliness had chilled, now that the woman he loved apparently preferred that there should be no ap- proach to intimacy, he was really distressed. When he met her at Vivian's, or elsewhere, she was not exactly frigid, but her politeness was decidedly cold; and when he called in Stuyvesant Square, as he did two or three times in the course of November and December, her fa- ther happened always to be at home, and she took little part in the conversation. Once, when the talk went back to election night, she asked him whose the words were of the song he had sung—“ that pretty little Oriental lyric.” Reviews of Dust and Ashes continued to appear, but they were none of them either very commendatory or very condemnatory; and in time Sartain came to accept the fact that even if the book should sell fairly well, it had failed absolutely to make the hit he had hoped for. There were none of the outward signs that evidence pub- lic interest in a novel—no paragraphs about it in the lit- erary notes of the newspapers; no editorial discussion of its theme; no inquiry as to the personality of the author, with anecdotes of his methods of work, of his boyish precocity, of his dead mother, and of his plans for the future. Dust and Ashes had been received as most novels are received, nine-tenths of which live a day and die, and leave no trace; and there was nothing in its reception to tempt the author to reveal his identity. His position as editor of Manhattan had greatly in- creased Sartain’s circle of acquaintance in New York. He had been taken to more than one of the fortnightly meetings of the Writers’ Club, he had been asked two or three times to the Saturday nights of the Millennium, and he had even been invited to take part in a debate at the Contemporary. Although he was not of a suspicious nature, sometimes he thought he detected in those who made these advances a desire to be on good terms with the editor of a journal like Manhattan, which was con- stantly criticising the doings of its contemporaries. It was on the last Saturday of the year that he was in- vited to a luncheon at the Millennium. That very morn- ing, as it chanced, the Gossip had published an article on Dust and Ashes, which was by far the least favorable Sartain had yet seen. It jeered at the obvious youth of the author, mocked at his enthusiasm, sniffed at his style, and denounced his morality; and it supported some of its assertions by quotations ingeniously wrenched from their context. As Sartain read it his face flushed as though he had been smitten in a public place. Then he re-read it, and the gross indecency of it revolted him, and its essen- tial dishonesty lay bare before him. Pitiful as it was, and contemptible, it was painful also; and Sartain smiled sadly as he asked himself whether an author who had been thus excoriated ought to venture into the presence of the public. But he was greeted as though the Gossip did not exist. He a to sit next to the editor of the Arctic Month- ly, and, while they were smoking, the editor dropped his voice and said that he was very glad to meet Sartain, and that this was no time to talk business, of course, but that he wished Sartain would write him a paper on the gov- ernment of American cities—for the March number, if he could have it ready then. Long before the lunch party left the book-lined private dining-room of the Millennium, the equanimity of the young author was fully restored, and he was able to en- joy the good cheer and good talk. As he came down the broad marble stairs of the sumptu- ous club-house, Vivian said to him: **Why not walk up town with me? It’s a beautiful afternoon, and you can’t have any work to do at the end of the week.” They went to Fifth Avenue and turned up. It was a beautiful afternoon, as Vivian had said—clear, dry, wind- less—with the sun setting in fiery glory. Sartain recalled his solitary walk up the avenue, more than a year earlier, when he was alone in New York, and was just going to pay his first visit to Vivian. How many things had hap- pened in these fourteen months!—the meeting with Esther, y~' editing of Manhattan, the publication of Dust and Ashes. The recalling of his novel led tim to ask Vivian if he had seen the last Gossip. “I wish I had seen the last of it,” was the answer; “it is unworthy to live. But I saw it gave you a good no- tice this morning, if that is what you mean.” ‘*A good notice?” Sartain repeated. ‘‘ Why, the savage scalped me.” Vivian smiled. ‘It was about two columns long, as I recall it,” he said. ‘‘ What can you ask for more? When you are as old as Tam, and when your shelf has as many rhe on it as mine has, then you will know that a review ie good in proportion to its length. Whether it contains praise or blame is of little importance—that is only one man’s opinion. Of course the praise is pleasanter; but the blame, however bitter, is better than nothing at all. What is really significant is the length of the article; that mea- sures the angle the book subtends in the public eye.” ‘I see what you mean,” Sartain admitted; ‘‘ but I am not callous yet.” **And I am not either,” the other confessed, frankly, “for all that I am twice your age, and have had many more books killed under me. It was a counsel of perfec- tion I was giving you. Of course the insult hurts.” They walked on in silence for a few paces, and then Vivian resumed: “TL have often thought that some authors are like the crocodile that hides its eggs in the sand, and never cares what becomes of them; while some other writers are de- MATTHEWS voted parents, who bring up their offspring by hand, and sit up with it all night, and sometimes find it hard to car- ry it through the second summer. Really it does not matter which course you choose; the neglected egg may hatch out a masterpiece, and the cherished babe may die in its cradle. Time alone can decide; we authors are powerless, and powerless are the reviewers also—fortu- nately. Just now it seems to me that most of those who write about books in the newspapers are old fogies who think literature died with Sir Watter, or else fresh young men who think it was born with Stevenson.” ‘** There are more of the pert youngsters, I guess,” Sar- tain declared, “if I can judge from the notices of my own book. Even when they are kindly—and they are mostly kindly—they reveal their own inability to under- stand and to appreciate.” ** Yes,” said the elder novelist; ‘‘ they cannot help show- ing the natural contempt clever and ignorant young men have for their elders and betters. And yet I have no rea- son to complain. It is very rare that I myself am not treated with courtesy nowadays. I fancy that is one of the benefits of growing old; they pay me the respect due to age.” Sartain noticed how briskly Vivian walked and how firmly, and he was surprised when the other turned to him. **] suppose the end of the year is not a melancholy season to you,” he said. ‘‘Itis tome. Every December now I have to count the friends and acquaintances who have fallen by the way-side at one or another of the twelve mile-stones. When a a man I knew twenty or thir- ty years ago, I want to shake hands heartily and ask him to dinner. I think of getting up a club to dine together on the last day of the year, and to be called ‘The Sur- vivors.’” Sartain was surprised at the sadness in Vivian's voice. It was a bright day, and the young man looked forward to many years of delightful work. “I do not know why you should be melancholy,” he said at last. ‘‘ You are a successful man—” ‘‘Am I?” interrupted Vivian. ‘‘I am a lucky man— that I know; and I have had far more than my share of the good things of life—health and friends and the use of money, and all that. I have been far happier than I de- serve, if I really deserve happiness at all—and that is a point on which I refuse to commit myself. But success- ful? Have I been successful?” Sartain did not know what answer to make to this per- sonal appeal. ** Since I have begun to talk to you in this confidential way,” Vivian continued, ‘‘I might as well go on and have my say out. I have never confessed it before to anybody, and I cannot see why I should to you, but I do not think that I can fairly be called a successful author.” Sartain was about to protest and to ask for an explana- tion when Vivian went on. ‘I know what you would say. I place all that I write in the great magazines, and I get the best prices. Thatis true enough, so far as it goes. But my books do not sell. I mean by that that I have never written a really popular novel. Now and then a story of mine has slowly crawled up to a sale of eight or nine thousand copies, and there it sticks. Yeta sale of perbaps fifty thousand copies is quite possible without breaking through the crust.” ‘* Breaking through the crust?” echoed Sartain. ** What I mean is this,” Vivian explained: ‘‘ Any novel published by a well-established house ought to sell a thousand or two copies, and if the author is also well es- tablished, it may sell ten thousand. The reading circle in the United States is large enough to absorb anywhere from twenty to fifty thousand of any book it likes. But beyond fifty thousand it is hardly possible to push a book. Yet if a novel happens to break through the crust and to get outside of the circumference of the reading circle, which is more or less literary, if it gets into circulation among the non-literary outelis public, then there is no guessing how many copies of it may be sold, for the out- side market contains nearly seventy millions of people. Now I should have liked to write one book that really reached my fellow-citizens—that had a sale of a hundred thousand or so. I never have written it, and I suppose that now I never shall.” He paused, and Sartain felt that he was expected to offer some consolation. His honesty forbade, and he kept silent. **Of course I do not blame the public for not rushing to buy my wares,” Vivian resumed; ‘‘the public knows what it wants, and it knows that it does not want my books. Of course I never tried to guess at the public taste, and to write a story in accord with my guess. I have written always to please myself—I have written what I wanted towrite. After all, I have had my reward in the Joy of my work.” Here Sartain was ready to agree with him. ‘‘I’m glad to hear you say that,” he said; “so many authors com- plain of the strain and struggle of composition.” ‘Either they are insincere,” Vivian declared, ‘‘ or they are working against the grain, and their work is probably worthless. There is no joy equal to the craftsman’s when he is doing his best. metimes I have wondered why we should ever get paid for writing; it is such fun that we ought to be made to buy the privilege. Nobody who reads a story of mine can get a tithe of the pleasure out of it I had in its creation.” **And do your characters take the bit in their teeth,” asked the younger novelist, ‘and run away from you, and make love to each other, and patch up marriages you disapprove of, while you toil after them, breathless and happy sf ** They are a most independent and arbitrary lot, those

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OcTrosER 7, 1899 children of our fancy,” Vivian responded, as they crossed the Plaza and turned down Fifty-ninth Street. ‘ And we love them dearly, and never dare to disinherit them. I wish the public would only take half the interest in my lovers and in their quarrels and reconciliations that I do.” Sartain left Vivian at the door of the great apartment- house that overlooked Central Park, after declining a pressing invitation to come up fora smoke, As-he walk- ed down Fifth Avenue alone in the twilight now swiftly shutting in on the city, while the electric lights twinkled ahead of him, he went over all that Vivian had said to him. After a while he began to see that perhaps the rea- son why Vivian's works had not laid hold of people’s hearts was because Vivian was an artist only, and because he was a happy man. Vivian had not learned in sorrow what he told in story; he had never sounded the depths of emotion or clim the heights of sorrow. Then, with his habit of making a personal application to himself, Sartain asked whether or not his own literary future de- pended on a tragedy in his life, whether or not the price of the triumph of his literary ambition might not be the failure of his wooing of Esther Dircks. He faced the dilemma boldly, and he knew what choice he would make should the devil proffer it. He would rather fail igno- miniously, if he might marry Esther, than succeed glori- ously without her. CHAPTER XX. S° the old year drew to an end and passed away, and a new year came, with fresh hopes, high anticipations, and lofty resolutions. It brought no change for the bet- ter to the journal that Sartain edited. In the first num- ber of the new volume appeared the opening instalment of A Wolf at the Door, In spite of this attraction, the circu- lation of Manhattan remained stagnant; now and then it rose a little, but more often than not it fell. Both editor and publisher were as economical as they dared to be, and yet the weekly deficit did not diminish. A Wolf at the Door was published in brief instalments, a single chapter at a time; and the heroine, although glimpsed fitfully in the earlier parts, did not really appear on the stage of the story until the fifth or sixth part. It was only in the seventh chapter that her personal appear- ance was described at length, and this was not published in Manhattan until nearly the end of February. In the two months he had seen Esther as often as he could; sometimes on Saturday at the Vivians’, sometimes on Sunday at her father’s, sometimes during the week at a private view, a concert, or a meeting of the Contem- porary. The last Sunday in February was the first since the heroine of A Wolf at the Door had made her appear- ance, and Sartain went to Stuyvesant Square that after- noon hoping that she had read his story, and that she would see in it the evidence of the devotion he felt for her. As he was about to ring the bell the door opened and Dircks came out. ‘It's you,” the old man said, as he shook hands with Sartain. ‘‘ Esther's in. Mr. Adams is visiting with her. I come out for air. I got to walk, or I presume likely I'll choke.” The young man saw that Dircks was not looking well; he was thinner, and his clothes now hung about his huge frame more loosely than ever. He was wilder in his man- ner- also, less ponderous, more brusque, Even the ex- ternal benignity Sartain had been struck by when he first beheld the engraver was disappearing. There, as he stood on the stoop, Dircks seemed almost fierce; he was a little like a great wild beast going forth from his lair for a prowl. ** You are not feeling ill, are you?” Sartain asked. **I don’t know what it is to be sick,” Dircks answered. “T ’ain’t never lost a day by sickness.” His tones were a little defiant, and so was his whole manner. Again Sartain remarked how very white the old man’s eyeballs were, and how very black the pupils. The beetling eyebrows were bent as Dircks gazed at him fixedly, and no longer were they in contradiction with his other features, the general impression of which had been kindly hitherto. “Perhaps you are a little tired,” suggested Sartain. ‘*Have you been working too hard?” ‘* I ’ain’t worked at all this week,” said Dircks. ‘‘ There wa'n’t any work todo. "Tain’t often there is now.” ‘*I hope you are not wanes about the loss on the paper,” Sartain began, seized by a sudden impulse to sacrifice himself to the comfort of her father. ‘*Money don’t worry me,” Dircks answered, with a growl. ** Because, if you were,” the editor continued, ‘‘ may- be we can cut down the expenses a little all round. I guess Truax would take a shave off his salary, and I’m quite ready to have mine reduced to—well, to half what it is—if—if that’s the best thing to do.” “*Tain’t the best thing,” the old man responded. ‘I know better. If you got a willing ox, and you want to work him hard, you got to feed him.” ‘** But so long as the paper is losing money,” Sartain urged, ‘‘I—” “No use talking,” Dircks declared, with emphasis. ‘* You take money when you can get it.” **Oh, you mean I had best draw my full 5 be he asked. ‘‘ Of course, if you think I had better, I—I—” “Did you ever read the Bible?” asked Dircks, facing Sartain, menacingly. The young man confessed that he was familiar with the Bible. ‘*Then you know that piece about Lazarus,” Dircks continued. ‘* First off, he sat at the rich man’s gate and he was hungry. Now no man knows what that is if he ’ain’t been hungry himself. Last of all, Lazarus he goes to heaven, and the rich man he goes to torment. ow that’s right—that’s gospel truth. That’s the rich man’s place—in torment—that’s where it is! The poor man, he got his torment here in this world.” Sartain was puzzled to understand the exact bearing of this outburst. “That's why I tell you,” Dircks resumed, “‘ you get money when you can. You get it from me—that don’t matter any. never could keep it, anyhow.” Then he shook hands again with the young man and bade him go up stairs, where Esther would be glad to see him. He had left the door of the house open behind him, and Sartain entered. He groped his way up the stairs, we dark on a winter afternoon. As he came towards the HARPER’S BAZAR door of the Dirckses’ parlor he heard Adams’s voice, un- usually a in its tone, he thought, although he did not catch the words. Just as he was about to knock he heard Esther's voice answering Adams's, and this time Sartain could not help hearing what she was saying. “No, no, no,” she declared, with gentle emphasis. ‘‘I can’t. I've told you so before, and—” Then there was a sudden silence after Sartain’s rap. Esther was startled by its unexpectedness. ‘ Oh!” she cried, and, after a moment’s hesitation, she added, **Come in !” When he entered the room he found Esther seated in the arm-chair near the window, while Adams was stand- ing by the fireplace in a constrained attitude. It struck the new-comer that the girl was ill at ease also. With feminine adaptability, she recovered her self-possession more rapidly than the painter, who stood scowling blackly at the new-comer, as though resenting the interruption. Esther smiled at Sartain, and held out her hand. “Do you know, your knock really took me so by sur- prise I almost jumped!” she said. “I ought to explain how it was I didn’t ring,” he re- turned. ‘‘It was your father. 1 met him at the door, and we had a little chat, and he told me to come right up. I’m sorry I was so inconsiderate. I might have known better. I—I beg your pardon.” “It’s absurd for me to be so nervous,” she responded, with an assumption of liveliness. ‘*It isn’t,” broke in Adams, gruffly, as though exagger- ating his ill humor to hide it. ‘' Sartain ought to proffer an apology in writing.” As he said this he ruffled up his curly hair with an automatic gesture. Then Sartain guessed what it was that he had done, and the awkwardness of the situation was made plain to him. He wished that he had come a little earlier or a little later; he regretted that he had come at all; he blushed scarlet as he perceived the indelicacy of his intrusion at such amoment. He stood there still and tongue-tied, hop- ing that neither of the others would suspect that he had divined the cause of their constraint. There was a self-conscious silence for half a minute, as though no one knew exactly what ought to be said, and hoped that one of the others would speak first. Then both Esther and Sartain began at once. Sartain discovered that he had not greeted Adams yet, and what he said was: ‘‘ How are you? How are you?” Esther observed that both of the men were standing. ‘*Why don’t you two sit down?” she cried. ‘‘It makes me so tired to see people on their feet all the time.” Sartain took his place on the settee facing the mantel- piece, and Adams acknowledged his greeting by saying: ** How are you? I’m all right.” Then the artist straightened himself, and took the au- thorized position of a man standing before a fire with his hands behind him. ‘‘ Why should I sit down?” he asked. ‘** I’m as happy here as a Roman fisherman in Lent.” “How did you think father was looking to-day?” asked Esther, turning to Sartain. ‘** Well,” he replied, trying not to alarm her, ‘I have seen him looking better, I think.” ‘**I'm really very much worried about him,” she return. ed. ‘I don’t know what has come over him. I've never seen him so before. He is restless now, and he seems anxious all the time. He tells me he isn’t fretting about anything; but he does not sleep well, and he eats scarcely anything.” **Perhaps he has been working too hard,” suggested Adams, in a more natural tone. “Yes,” she answered; ‘‘ he has shut himself up in his workshop there more than ever lately; and what is very curious is that he doesn’t show me what he has been doing. He used toalways. He liked to let me help him pull a proof, and he wanted my opinion. Now I don’t know just what it is he has been working at.” Sartain remembered that Dircks had just told him there was little or no work to be had now. “*I don’t suppose it’s counterfeit money he’s making in there,” Adams suggested, with a certain bravado in his manner, as though he was quite aware that he was talking for effect. **Oh, Mr. Adams!” protested Esther. **T said I didn’t suppose it was,” the artist explained; **not but what counterfeiting is as honorable a means of making money as many others that are tolerated.” “I expect to find you defending highway -robbery next,” she retorted. “TI am willing to admit that the burglar’s calling has many alluring characteristics,” said Adams. ‘‘On the whole, however, it is not so intellectual a craft as the de- tective’s, is it? That is why I think I should make an ideal detective—it’s because of my alert intelligence. I believe I should be about as hard to deceive as a Scottish- American Jew, if such a monstrous entity could exist. Zekiel McLevi would be his name, of course.” Esther and Sartain laughed at this, as they were expect- ed to; and artificial as Adams’s talk was, it served to relieve the strain they all felt. The editor saw two or three numbers of Manhattan on the table at Esther’s elbow, and he was glad to think that perhaps just before Adams had arrived she had been reading about herself as she was described in A Wolf at the Door. *'T see you keep up with the best literature of the day,” he said, jestingly, as he indicated the Manhattan. “Generally 1 do,” she answered; ‘‘ but I have been so busy tue past month I haven't had time even to read the morping paper.” Sartain was deeply disappointed, but he could not pur- sue the subject. ‘**Do you call that a good newspaper of yours?” asked Adams. **Don’t you?” was Sartain’s response. ** Well,” said the artist, with the deliberation which in- dicated to those who knew him well that he was fitting a shaft to his bow, ‘‘ I suppose it is a pretty good newspa- per, if you believe that no news is good news.” “If that gets into circulation,” retorted the editor, laughing, ‘‘I shall have to suborn an art critic to abuse the next picture you exhibit.” ‘Then I should heap coals of fire on your head,” Adams replied. ‘I'd buy a copy and double your circu- lation.” As though pleased with this thrust, and willing to let it be the climax, he left his place before the fire and went towards Esther. 847 “I can’t waste my afternoon scattering diamonds and rubies for you all the time,” he said. ‘‘I ve got an en- gagement at the club‘at five.” **You can’t better that last cut,” Esther told him, as she gave him her hand. “Oh yes, I can,” he declared, ‘‘if I had time. You don’t know what I can do in that way when I give my mind up to it.” When he had gone, Sartain hoped for a pleasant talk with Esther. But the conversation soon took a turn he did not like. She insisted upon discussing the Vivians, chiefly the father and the elder daughter. She went out of her way to praise Johnny, asserting that she had come to know the girl better during their summer in Europe, and rs him that she was really very womanly, in spite of her little mannish assumptions. Esther’s laudation of another woman, whom Sartain did not care for, rather annoyed him. When he was alone with the girl he wanted to talk about himself, or to have her talk about herself. He enjoyed any exchange of confidence as a proof of their increasing intimacy. One of Esther’s remarks led him to suspect that she thought he had sung the Bedouin song for Johnny’s special benefit, and he would have liked to explain at once that he had sung for her alone, that it was the thought of her which had charged his voice with emotion, that it was to her he had addressed that burning lyric appeal. He was tempt- ed almost beyond resistance to drop on his knees there at her feet now to tell her that he adored her, and that he had loved her since the first day he had seen her. The excess of his feelings interfered again with the clearness of his speech. He cut off one sentence short, and ended another with a straggling word or two. Then Esther left Johnny for a while and began to praise Mr. Vivian. She declared that nobody could have been kinder than he was while they were in Europe, or more considerate, and that often he thought of her comfort, and of what she wanted, before he thought of his own daugh- ters. Sartain’s jealousy blazed high as she commended the man whom he knew to be a most dangerous rival. ‘* Well,” he suggested, ‘‘ he is old enough to be your father.” ‘* But he doesn’t look it, does he?” she returned. ‘*T don’t know how old he is, really,” Sartain admitted, ‘*but it did not surprise me to find that he had a daugh- ter as old as Miss Joan.” “If he does look older than he is,” said the girl, shift- ing her ground, “‘ it’s not to be wondered at, considering what he has gone through.” “IT thought he had led a very calm life,” Sartain re- turned—*‘‘ the placid career of a successful man of let- ters.” ** But he was in the war, too,” she replied. ‘ And the sights of that dreadful time would be enough to age any- body, I’m sure.” ‘I remember now that he was in the army,” he ac- knowledged. ‘‘ He looks so little like a soldier that I had forgotten it.” **And do you know how it was he came to be a sol- dier?” she asked. ‘‘ That’s the finest thing I ever heard of. He was a young man when the war broke out, and he was alone in Europe, and in those days he was very or—” ‘**It was his wife who had the fortune, I believe,” said Sartain, a little maliciously. ‘He wasn't married then,” she resumed, ‘‘and, as I said, he was very, very poor. He wanted to come home at once and enlist, but he hadn’t any money. So he shipped as a common sailor at Marseilles, and he came back that way—before the mast, you call it, don’t you?” Sartain had no hesitation in acknowledging that this was really a fine thing to do. He wondered how it was that he bad never heard of it. ‘**Oh, Mr. Vivian never talks about it,” she cried. ‘It was Johnny who told me. Johnny is perfectly devoted to her father. You must get her to tell you all about it some day.” He wanted to be able to assure her that he would rather hear even bad things from her than the best of good ti- dings from Johnny. He remarked the animation in her face as she spoke of Johnny, and the intensity of her ex- pression. He saw that the one little vagabond wisp of her ashen-gold hair had escaped again, and he waited for the easy gesture with which she replaced it. ‘* Johnny was just like an elder sister to me,” she said, ‘‘ during all those months when I was away with them. Nobody could have been nicer. I love her dearly.” Then Sartain recalled the conversation with Johnny, in which she had wondered what it was that made Esther so fasciaating, and in which she had said that she loved Esther dearly. He staid there for half an hour longer, in spite of the fact that Esther persisted in talking about the Vivians. Even when he got up to go at last he stood for ten min- utes with his hand on the handle of the door, while they discussed the taste and the richness with which the Viv- ians’ apartment was furnished. Sartain confessed that he was very sensitive to the in- fluence of unaccustomed surroundings, and that the deli- cacy of the furniture and the general air of luxury which enveloped him the first time he called there had made him feel out of place, as though he were of clay too coarse to be a fit associate for people used to things of that sort. And then Esther admitted that she too had been impressed in much the same way. Upon this sympathy, under novel circumstances, their talk flowed on with more warmth than before, until she again praised Johnny, and then he took his leave at last. He strode away from the house in Stuyvesant Square in a warmish rain, soft and gentle as though it knew itself to be a forerunner of spring. Passion was strong in his veins, and he had almost a physical ache from its tension. It was the love of Esther Dircks that he wanted with all the force of his nature—her love, and not her friendship. And he saw clearly that it was her friendship only that she was proffering him. While he walked away in the soothing rain, ready to take all nature to witness the strength of his passion, he could not guess that he had left her thrilling with the touch of his hand as he bade her farewell, and that all unconsciously she was longing for the clasp of his arm about her, or for any masculine advance that would assure her of his love—of the love that she thought was (Continued on page 850 )

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HARPER’S B “MOTHER AND CHILD, $Y MARY CASSATT. “MY AUNT,” BY KAT! “THE HUMBLE HOUSEHOLD,” BY ELIZABETH NOURSE. “THE FIRST ATTEMPT,” BY MAR

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R’S BAZAR UNT,” BY KATE CARL. See Page 860. PT,” BY MARY KEMPTON TROTTER “IN THE MEADOWS,” BY ELIZABETH NOURSE. Page

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850 (Continued from page 81,7.) another's. He could not suspect that she sat down where he had been sitting because he had sat there, or that she should remember that he had held the door-knob in bis hand for the final minutes of their talk, and that there- fore, after a virginal glance around, to make sure no one could see her, she had stooped and kissed it once and again. CHAPTER XXtI. BOUT the middle of March there was a strike of the street-car employés of a city near to New York; and in this struggle the inhabitants of the metropolis took the liveliest interest. Exactly what the merits of the contest might be it was difficult to declare. In the main the sympathy of the public was with the strikers, especially in the beginning, and there was a general expectation that the company would submit the matter to arbitra- tion. But in interviews and in letters to the newspapers the president of the street railroad asserted that the com- pany proposed to manage its own business; that its em- ployés having thrown up their engagements, the places were now vacant, and that the officials intended at once to replace the old men with new, For the first two or three days the cars did not run, and the public put up with the inconvenience with but little grumbling, hoping for a speedy settlement in favor of the employés. Then the new drivers and conductors were sent out at long intervals, and were jeered at from the sidewalks and insulted at the corners. When more and more cars began to appear, the strikers could not stand by in patience and see new-comers snatching the bread out of their mouths. The green hands were stoned, at first from a distance; then they were knocked off the platforms and kicked and beaten. After a long delay the city authorities granted police protection to the new men, and two and three and four officers rode on every car that went out of the stables. As the number of cars increased, so did the animosity of the men who had left the com- pany’s employ; and in their overt acts they were joined by all the roughs and toughs that lurk in the holes and corners of a city nowadays, ready always to break the law, with no choice as to the law they are ready to break. Before the end of the second week of the strike there had been five deaths by violence. One of these was charged against the police, and four against the strikers, or those acting in their behalf. The sympathies of the public changed about; the National Guard was ordered out, and everybody who was familiar with the course of similar contests knew that the end was near and that the strikers would have to accept the inevitable. Sartain was keenly interested in the struggle. He in- vestigated personally, and satisfied himself that the con- duct of the company had been indefensible, and that the claims of the men, although overstated by them, were supported by the facts. He wrote two editorial articles for the next number of Manhattan. One called for a special committee from the Legislature at Albany to in- vestigate the actual cost of the street railroads, as a basis for their future expropriation by the city, the grantor of the franchises which made them valuable. The other was a declaration of the supremacy of the law, and an assertion that order must be maintained at any cost. It jveti*c. che use of the police and the militia to protect the property and the new employés.of the company, and it urged the strikers to refrain from the outrages, which could bring only discredit upon their cause. Manhattan was published on Thursday morning, and it went to press the day before. Sartain was methodical and regular; he tried to complete the make-up as early as he could on Wednesday morning, and generally he managed to order the paper to press before noon. He had done so on the day when he had made up Manhattan with the articles inspired by the street-car strike; but when he returned from his luncheon he found Dircks awaiting him, in conversation with Truax. “T'm very glad —s come back at last, Frank,” cried the publisher. ‘‘I’m trying to get Mr. Dircks here to listen to reason.” ‘* What's the matter?” Sartain asked. ‘*He wants us to back up those rioters,” Truax ex- plained; “to stick to them through thick and thin, even if they are killing people every day.” ‘ Well,” returned the editor, “what did you say to that?” ‘*T was telling him that it’s no good our supporting the strikers,” Truax went on. ‘‘ There’s no money in that for us, is there? They won't buy a copy, no matter how much we praise them. Manhattan is a ten-cent paper, and car-drivers have no use for it.” ‘*I didn’t know we had this paper just to praise people who had ten cents to buy it,” said Dircks, with feeling. **IT thought we had this paper to help the poor man.” Sartain saw that the old man was excited, as though the restlessness of the pen few weeks had now come to a climax. The large hairy hand grasped the umbrella with fingers that opened and shut nervously. The white of the old man’s eyes seemed whiter than ever before, and the pupils were blacker and more fiery. The protruding thatch of the great eyebrows came down low as he bent _ penetrating gaze on the publisher and then on the editor, “That's what I thought, too,” Sartain replied; ‘* Man- hatian is to tell the truth and shame the devil. It is to stand up for the down-trodden, and it is to denounce the rasping wickedness of the fraudulent money - makers. Sut it is to be honest to its own convictions first of all, isn't it? It is to be honest with itself.” Dircks listened to him in silence, only to repeat: ‘‘ Hon- est? Honest? What do you mean by honest?” ‘1 mean that we must be as fair to the rich man as to the poor man,” Sartain returned. ‘* What is sauce for the goose ought to be sauce for the gander, oughtn’t it? If we attack the robber barons because they set themselves above the law, we must also call the strikers to order when they put themselves outside the law. That's fair, isn’t it?” ** What's fair?” asked Dircks, raising his voice. ‘‘ For the soldiers to shoot a man down in the street?” * Bat the man would not be shot,” urged Sartain,“ if he were not engaged in assaulting another man.” “Another man?” Dircks retorted. “Do you call a scab a man? It’s a seab he's kicking. No decent man would be a scab, would he?” ** A decent mah may be so desperately hard up that he HARPER’S BAZAR is ready to do anything to get bread for his children,” Sartain answered. “The fellow that's willing to keep another wat a said Dircks, shrilly, ‘‘he’s too pea to be kicked; he ought to be killed; he deserves all he gets!” Sartain was taken aback by this extreme vehemence. ‘But, Mr. Dircks,” he responded, ‘‘ this is a free coun- try, after all, and a man has a right to work for low wages if he chooses. If he would sooner Ld gg badly than not paid at all, I don’t see what we can do. As fast as we can we've got to change the conditions that allow some men to roll in riches while other men are let down to the starvation level. But until we can advance civilization that far, I don’t see what right we have to prevent any man’s working for any wages he is willing to accept. These strikers say that they can’t live on what they are getting, and they quit; that’s all right. These other men say that they are very glad to take what the strikers reject; that’s a pity; but we can’t interfere, can we?” The old man had listened to Sartain impatiently, and now he broke forth strenuously: ‘‘ We don’t need to inter- fere. We got only to keep our hands off. The strikers, they'll settle the scabs quick enough, if we let ‘em alone!” ‘* But surely you would not allow men to be murdered in the street, would you?” cried the editor. ‘*There wouldn't be any murdering if the police wa’n’t there,” the old man answered. ‘‘ There ain’t a scab would dare to come out.” ‘It seems to me the scabs have rights too,” Sartain =. “They are men, after all; they have wives and children, and—” “Then why don’t they let another man’s job alone?” interrupted Dircks. “That's easy enough, ain't it? I know it’s hard for the man whose job is taken away. You don’t know. I do. You ’ain’t gone through that. I have. You ‘ain't seen your women folks hungry. I have. You don't know.” **No,” admitted Sartain. ‘‘I have had no personal experience. No doubt it is hard—” **Hard ?” broke in Dircks. ‘Hard? I saw my wife die! She died because I didn’t have money! That would have saved her life, the doctor said. hadn't got it. Why should other men have money to buy the lives of their wives and their children and I not have it? That's what I want to know. She died, and money would have saved her, and I knew it, and she knew it. If I could have stolen it, of course I'd done it; but I hadn't the chance then. When she wanted what money could buy, there wa’n't nobody had a better right to it than she had. That's what I — And when she died because I couldn't get money to take her South, then I ah pay . What good was God to me? He let my wife di men in Wall Street millions and millions.” To this outbreak neither Sartain nor Truax could make any appropriate answer. Sartain especially was pained by the violence of the old man’s speech; he was thinking of Esther. After a silence which seemed very long to the two oth- ers, Dircks continued in a little lower key, but with his voice still revealing his intense excitement. ‘* Well, what are you going to do about it?” he asked. ** About what ?” returned Sartain. ‘*What are you going to say about this shooting down men?” he cried. ‘* What kind of a piece are you going to put in the paper?” “I have written two articles,” the editor explained, “one suggesting that the city should take , »ssession of the road, paying only what its real value is, less the value of the franchise fraudulently acquired—” *That’s good,” agreed Dircks; ‘the city ought to take it; but it hadn't ought to pay a cent for it!” ** And then I have a second article,” said Sartain, “‘re- ie that the company has refused to arbitrate, and declaring that it is now the duty of all good citizens to see that order is restored and the supremacy of the Jaw main- tained.” ‘*That means that you're on the side of the police and the soldiers?” asked Dircks, slowly and in a lower voice. “If you put it that way,” the editor admitted, “I sup- pose that is what it does mean. Manhattan is on the side of law and order—” ** Law and order!” repeated Dircks, with contemptuous hostility. _‘*‘ Law and order! I know what law is. There ain't anybody knows that better than Ido. When I was in the army I was paymaster for a while, and the rebels got my money away from me, and I couldn’t prove it— and the law said I was a thief!” This, then, was the mystery which had hung over Dircks’s career in the army; this was why he took no part in the gatherings of his former comrades; this was wh he refused to tale over, even with his daughter, his experi- ences during the war. Ordinarily Sartain was not swift to see all the bearings of a statement; but now he perceived at once that he had hold of the cause of many of the peculiarities of Esther's father hitherto inexplicable. “It ain’t no wonder I ’ain’t no high idea of the law,” Dircks went on. ‘‘I ’ain’t any better opinion of the law than the law had of me. I got no call to fight for the law. If it’s the law that’s keeping the man whose job is taken away from killing the scab that took it, if it’s the law that’s doing that kind of dirty work, so much the worse for the law. It ain't the first time the law has come down heavy on a good man, nor the second, neither. I know what the law is. I suffered the law myself.” Truax tried to relieve the tension by an ill-timed jest. “Mr. Dircks,” he suggested, ‘‘I guess you are a little like that newly landed Irishman who wanted to know whether we had a government here, because if we had he was agin it.” ‘* What has the government done for me?” the old man retorted. ‘* Wa’n't it the government made the law that called me a thief? Wa’'n't it the government let men in Wall Street have millions and millions when I hadn't a hundred dollars to buy my wife’s life?” It seemed to Sartain that Dircks was really gettin more and more excited as the discussion continued, an that the sooner it could be brought to an end the better. ‘*Lam very sorry that we don’t agree better about these things,” he began. ‘I don’t defend our present social organization as an ideal system—I know well enough that it is full of defects; but, on the other hand,I think that progress is possible only along legal lines, and—” ‘And you have put a piece in the paper saying the police and soldiers ought to shoot men down in the streets?” Dircks broke in. ‘‘Is that printed yet?” e, and He give Vou. XXXIL., No. ‘‘No,” Sartain answered. ‘It is not printed yet—but I have sent the forms to the press.” ‘*Then you can stop it now?” the old man inquired. “Yes,” Sartain responded. “I could stop if now—if I wished to do so.” ** Will you stop it?” Dircks asked. ‘‘ Will you take it out, - stand up for the men whose jobs are taken away?” ‘Mr. Dircks, I would like to meet your views,” said the young editor, slowly and seriously. ‘‘ But I can’t.” ** You can’t?” almost shrieked Dircks, rising to his feet. “Why not?” ‘* Because in that article I have said what I thought I ought to say, and because I have not changed my opinion since I wrote il,” was the firm response, The old man stepped forward. ‘‘’Taint your money that's been spent on the paper.” Sartain stood up and faced him. ‘It is your money, I know,” he said; ‘‘ but it was clearly understood that I was to be responsible for the editorial opinions.” “Then you won't ch it?” the old man asked, harshly, with his great eyes piercing the other from under his overhanging eyebrows. **I can’t,” was the young man’s answer, as he faced the fierce gaze of the father of the woman he loved. There was silence while the two men stood there look- ing into each other’s eyes. “TI guess it’s better to be on the side of the law-makers than the law-breakers,” said Truax, again endeavoring to relieve the tension. Finally Sartain made a swift resolution. He swallowed once or twice, and then he said: ‘‘ The paper is yours, Mr. Dircks—I don’t deny it. So long as on editor I must write what I think. But if you disapprove of what I write, there is no reason why I should be editor any longer. I am ready to resign the position at any time— now, if you wish it.” The old man continued to look at him while he was taking in this suggestion; and there was another silence, which Truax did not break. ** Resign?” said Dircks, at last. ‘‘Resign? What for?” ‘So that you can put another editor in my place,” Sar- tain replied; ‘‘ somebody who will be more in accord with you.” ‘**Tain’t no use resigning,” the old man returned. ‘’Taint no use of talking of somebody else. The paper's got to stop, that’s all!” **Got to stop!” echoed both the editor and the publisher. a got to stop,” repeated Dircks. ‘That's what I said.” ‘*Why?” asked Sartain. ‘*Why?” the old man repeated again, as he picked up his hat. ‘ Because the money’s all goue. That's why. I can’t pay after this week, anyway.” ‘* What are we to do?” cried Truax. ‘You do what you did before I started in,” Dircks returned. ‘‘ You can’t get the police and the soldiers to make me pay out, week after week, when I got no more money—can you? You can’t get the law to call me a thief again, because I quit when I got through— can you?” With these pointed questions Dircks made his way towards the door. ‘*Hold on a minute,” Sartain requested. ** Well?” said the old man, halting on the threshold, a pitiful figure,so he seemed to Sartain, with the clothes hanging on his tall shrunken frame. ‘*This is your final word, then?” the young editor asked. ‘‘ You have no more money to spend on Man- hattan, and you want it stopped?” **I don’t want it stopped,” was the answer. ‘I don't care what you do with it now. I'm through with it. And if I had money, I wouldn’t put a cent more into a paper that stood up for law.” ** But there are articles on hand that are paid for, and there are advertising accounts to be collected—are there not?” and the editor appealed to the publisher. ** Lots of em,” was Truax’s prompt reply. “Then let me try and sell the paper for you,” urged Sartain. ‘‘ Perhaps I can get a fair price for it. Per- haps I can get you back some of the money you have lost in it.” ‘*T don’t care what you do with it,” Dircks answered, as he walked slowly out of the office. Sartain and Truax looked at each other in silence for a moment, and then the latter laughed. “This is perfectly ridiculous,” he quoted, and then laughed again. ‘It’s hard on you, old man,” said Sartain, laying his hand on the other's shoulder. ‘‘I feel as if I had brought you East under false pretences.” ** Don’t you worry about me,” was the answer. “ I've got nine lives, and 1 drop on my feet every time. I didn’t tell you before, but there’s a new man bought the Upper Ten, and he wants me to join him. Of course I wasn’t thinking of leaving you, but if Manhattan's going up, I might as well go over to the Upper Ten. He’s to clean out the gang they have on it now and make a decent paper of it.” Sartain could think quickly sometimes. ‘“ Why shouldn’t he buy Manhattan, too, and consolidate it with the Upper Ten?” he asked. **That’s so,” said Truax. ‘‘Why not? Shall I go and see him and drop him a hint or two that perhaps Man- hattan could be purchased?” This was agreed upon, and Truax took his hat at once and started off down town. Sartain did not worry about his own prospects. He had saved money, and he knew that he had raised his reputation as a trustworthy literary workman. He did not believe it would be long before something would be secured by an energetic young man, who had prepared a successful subscription-book for Carington & Company, who had edited Manhattan and immensely improved it, and who had written Dust and Ashes and A Wolf at the Door. Perhaps he might even jon the staff of the re- organized Upper Ten. What did depress his spirits was the knowledge that Dircks had lost all the money he had in the paper the young man had edited. Sartain had done his best; and none the less did he feel in some mea- sure responsible. He wished he had ascertained before they went into this journalistic venture just how much money it was the old man had. (TO BE CONTINUED.)

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Ocrosen 7, 1309 HARPER’S BAZAR THE-WALLS:-OF-THE:HOVSE eres oot eam ees i, AN EXAMPLE OF WALL DECORATIONS AND DRAPERIES IN FLOWERED PATTERNS ILLUSTRATING THE FACT THAT PICTURES ARE NOT NECESSARY epee fart o THE USE OF WOOD AND BRIC-A-BRAC IN WALL DECORATION. SHOWING HOW THOROUGHLY BOOKS DECORATE A WALL. STONE, BRIC A-BRAC, AND BOLD FRIEZES IN DECORAT ‘. THE USE OF SILKS AND BROCADES IN DINING-ROOMS See Pace 858.

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MISS JULIA GRANT’S WEDDING SOME OF THE INTERESTING AT THE MOST IMPORTANT SOCIETY WEDDING IN THE UNITED STATES THIS SEASON HE romance of a Russian Prince and an American girl, which culminated in an international marriage cele- brated at Newport, September 24, has been a subject of more than us- ual interest, inasmuch as the Princess is of the illustrious family of Grant. The Princess Michel Cantacuzene (Count- ess Speransky, formerly Julia Dent Grant) is the daughter of an American soldier, Col- onel Frederick Dent Grant, and a grand- daughter of a great general, one time Pres- ident of this republic, Ulysses 8. Grant. She is one of the handsomest young women in New York society, and a general favorite, and highly accomplished, and perhaps as well fitted for a position in court circles, even in the formal Russian court, as any other woman in America. Having lived much abroad, the Princess is a fluent lin- guist and well versed in the etiquette of aris- tocratic life. Much of this was acquired when Colonel Grant was ambassador at Vi- enna, during which time his daughter made her formal bow to society. The Princess is lovely to look upon, for she has a face of singu- lar sweetness and a voice which is exquisite- ly modulated ; her figure is suberb; and tact, which is an absolute necessity in her new | home, the Princess possesses to an extraor- dinary degree; her manner is most fasci- nating, and she is apparently unconscious at all times of her graciousness. Our Princess has gone to the land of snow equipped with a trousseau of unusual elegance and quiet good taste, while her jewels are regal. Of the many great marriages celebrated in this country, none has been begun with greater possibilities than this most recent one; for it was an elaborate and gorgeous ceremonial, almost barbaric in its splendor, and quite decorative enough for a princess born in the land of Russia. 7) RINCE CANTACUZENE is an officer of the Russian imperial army, and has reach- ed the age of twenty-four years. He was born in Odessa, where he is said to own large es- tates, and comes from one of the famous families of southern Europe. Its found- er was the Byzantine Emperor John Canta- cuzene, who was Prime Minister during the reign of Andronicus III. He was appointed Regent, and afterwards Emperor; he abdi- cated in 1355, and became a monk. The Roumanian and Wallachian families are di- rect descendants. There have been many famous men among the Cantacuzenes. Ser- ben Cantacuzene, who died in 1865, tried to liberate Wallachia from the Turks; while Constantine Cantacuzene, who lived from 1800-75, was a celebrated Roumanian states- man. Count Cantacuzene, who was Russian minister at Washington, D. C., early in the 60's, was presumably a relative. . 7) TH! young Prince is a pleasant-featured young man, blond in type, and only medi- um height, and beside his bride, with her splendid physique, appears very delicate by contrast. It was during a visit in Rome last year, after her return from Egypt, that the Princess met her husband, then military attaché to the Russian embassy in the Eter- nal City. It is said to be a love match, and the Prince has proved himself to be an in- defatigable wooer, The match has given great satisfaction to the entire Grant family, and every one wishes happiness for the granddaughter of America’s great general. ee HE marriage ceremony which made Miss Grant the bride of a Russian Prince was that of the Greek Church, and binding by the law.of Russia, although it is not looked upon as legal by the laws of the State of Rhode Island. As a consequence two ceremonies were necessary, and both of a religious char- acter. The Greek ceremony was celebrated in the chapel of Beaulieu, the residence at Newport of the bride’s aunt, Mrs. Potter Palmer, on Sunday night. The other fol- lowed Monday morning at the Protestant Episcopal Church, All Saints’ Chapel. The Greek ceremony was performed by the Rev. Father Hotovitsky, of New York, assisted by two acolytes, and was witnessed by the immediate family only, and was followed by a grand dinner. At the church the ser- vices were celebrated by the Rev. H. M. Stone, Rector of All Saints’, Bishop Potter, and the Rev. Dr. Nevins,of Rome, a friend of the Prince and Princess. There were no bridemaids, and the bride was given away by her brother, Ulysses 8. Grant 3d., on ac- count of the absence of her father, Briga- dier-General Frederick Dent Grant, who is on duty with the United States troops at Manila. At both ceremonies the Princess wore the same gown of heavy white satin, made quite plain and devoid of lace, envel- oped in a tulle veil. She carried a bouquet of white orchids, showered with orange blos- soms and jasmine, tied with broad white satin ribbous. a.) HE decorations at both house and church were unequalled and of most artistic ar- rangement, In the extemporized’ chapel

HARPER’S BAZAR AND NOVEL POINTS SEEN where the Greek service was celebrated su- perb vases of gold and all the altar vessels of the same precious metal were almost hid. den in the magnificent display of flowers, which were arranged in Russian colors. The gorgeous cloth-of-gold robe, cap, and stole worn by Father Hotovitsky, all elaborately ornamented with jewels, added splendor to the scene. At the church the chancel rail and steps were a mass of bride roses, and the walls were festooned with vines, orchids, and roses. Hundreds of these beautiful roses, and as many more of American Beau- ties, were used at the house. There were hundreds of baskets of growing orchids sus- nded over the chancel, and a chime of lis. The floral decorations at Beaulieu were quite as elaborate as at the church. The halls were forests of rare palms and baskets of trailing vines suspended. The entrance to the ball-room, where the Prince and Princess received, was a veritable bower of pure green leaves and mauve-colored or- chid cattleya. The room itself was deco- rated with green and white. Above them was a heavy canopy of white roses, lilies-of- the-valley interwoven with white satin rib- bon, and there were high columns of white roses. Where the mother of the bride and Mrs. Palmer stood, in another charming room, American Beauties formed the scheme of decoration. Probably nothing more elab- orate has been seen at Newport, or even in New York. The lawn of Beaulieu, the villa in which Mrs. Palmer is living, which is the property of William Waldorf Astor, is of wondrous beauty, and extends along the cliffs. Here the bridal breakfast to 500 guests was served at small tables under tents and gay-colored umbrellas, and set out and handsomely furnished with rugs and tapestries. a.) HIS wedding was not only one of the most important, if not the most important social event of the season; it sets the stand- ard and the style for the weddings that are to follow this winter. The arrangement of the table for the bride’s breakfast, the deco- rations at the church, the setting of the ta- ble for the general spread after the wed- ding, were all prepared by experts, and they will form, especially in their newer features, an example for autumn weddings in New York and throughout the country. The il- lustrations, which were taken especially for Harper’s Bazar not only give a graphic picture of the bride’s wedding-dress and portraits of the bridal party, but they show as clearly as photographs can the details within the church and on the lawn and in the house of Mrs. Potter Palmer. The Prince and Princess have gone to Russia to their estates near Moscow. ADVICE TO LADIES.—Do you wish to remove entirely every trace of sunburning from your face, and to make sure of a bright complexion, the freshness of which will daily increase?

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Treen ° @ a asee* me. ~ 3 ° yer Pm. ; a 6 a ies (yy . . "eect euetce® * i y/o OF M a i, SPENT a very pleasant evening recent- ly with that jovial artist aud all-round good fellow Reggie Splashem. Thus far Reggie's artistic inclina- tions have been rather suppressed by his parents, who fail utterly to appreciate his cleverness and originality This treat- ment, however, fails to dampen his ardor or to alter his sunny disposition When I walked in upon him he was busily engaged in applying water-color to a fine engraving—the frontispiece to a rare édition de l It was a pretty landscape, which he had treated in the true impression istic spirit—yellow sky, blue grass, purple trees, and pink sheep I'm going to be up Unele Dick!” he down beside him I sincerely hope so!” I replied, fervently. He regarded me doubtfully for an instant; then he said, with a winning smile which made cruel candor impossible, * I'm a little tule an artist when I grow announced, as I sat bit of an artist now, don’t you think?” lo be sure, Reggie; you're a good deal of an artist in many ways. You execute your work with bold rapid strokes, and you display a breadth of treatment that bespeaks the born artist. Then you display another unmistakable trade-mark of your profession you've got full as much paint on your clothes and your nose as you have on the picture. True artists always get them selves covered with paint just to show how absorbed they are in their work. The worse their hair and their clothes look, the more devoted to their art.’ Reggie stopped painting green snakes on the margio of the picture and gazed at me with an appreciative grio ** You talk jes as papa’s friends do when they come to see his new painting,” said Reggie ‘They jes say an awful lot of foolishness know you're jokin’ with me,” Mr. Splashem continued, “but 1 don't care. I'm havin’ a whole lot of fun. An’ if I kinder like to make believe I'm a real artist, ‘taint any harm—is it, Uncle Dick?” a Reggie,” I said; **‘ making believe is the best kind of fun and the safest. But what do you think your father will say at the way you've treated one of his fine old books? 1 FOUND MARION TRYING Photo. by Misses Selby and Nizun The young rascal bestowed a most enga- ging smile upon me as he replied, ‘* Papa can't scold me for takin’ after him in likin’ to pain’t, can he?’ en. MK. SPLASHEM GAZED AT ME WITH AN APPRECIATIVE GRIN. Photo. by Misses Selby and Nixon. ISS Arabella Jones, the adopted daughter of the well-known Mrs. Marion Jones, of Toytown, all but met an untimely end last Tuesday through the imper- tinent curiosity of **that horrid Smith boy,” as Mrs. Jones contem ptuously calls Mr. Arnold Smith, the scien- tist. Miss Arabella, though five years old, is remarkably backward in learn- ing to talk. In fact her vocabu- lary has not in- creased a syllable, being limited still to the two words “papa” and “mam- ma.” And even these two are not forth-coming with- out a good deal of effort, Mrs. Jones having to give Ara- bella a couple of thumps on the back. One day the sci- entific Mr. Smith came to call on Mrs. Jones, only to find that she was out. Arabella, how ever, was in, so he paid his respects to her. When he came in the parlor she happened to be re- clining on the sofa, flat on her face and one foot within a few inches of her TO MAKE ARABELLA TAKE SOMETHING FROM A CUP. AKEBELIEVE — nose. The whole pose was one of unstudied grace, and Mr. Smith was charmed. Finally Mr. Smith picked up the dear child and gave her sev- eral playful tosses toward the ceiling. In one of these aeri- al excursions Ara bella came in vio- lent contact with a sharp point on the chandelier, so that the poor thing was severely punc- tured. As Marion put it to me later, with great indig- vation of manner, “If Lhadn’t arrived when I did I really believe poor Ara- bella would have ‘saw-dusted’ to death!” Wearying of this sport, Mr. Smith chucked—yes, that is the only word to describe his action —chucked Arabel- la into a chair and addressed a few jo- vial remarks to her, but apparently she was too far out of breath for words. Then Mr. Smith tried to “ force” the conversation. That is to say, he thump- ed her till she ut tered a squeaky “mamma, papa!” Her response, however, was too feeble to suit Mr Smith’s ideas of genial hospitality, so he picked up a walk- ing-stick and brought it down with great vigor on the small of Arabella’s back. There was an ominous jangle from somewhere in Arabella’s department of the interior, and then dead silence. Mr. Smith, now some- what alarmed, turned her over.. She still wore a smile of placid content, but do what he would, the child utterly refused to speak one syllable. Then Mr. Smith, —s he had staid quite long enough, quickly departed. For several weeks after this episode Mr. Smith and Mrs. Jones did not speak as they passed we Finally, Mr. Smith sent Mrs. Jones a beautiful card on St. Valentine’s day, but as it was generally known in Toy- town that Mrs. Jones was to have an elab- orate birthday party on that evening, she, Mrs. J., was inclined to believe that some other motive than remorse prompted the gift —a fondness for cake, for example. I came across Mrs. Jones the other evening trying to make Arabella take something from a cup. ‘*Why, Marion,” I said, ‘‘what ever are you doing?” ‘I'm jes seeing if Arabella wants a drink of water, papa,” replied Mrs. Jones. ‘‘ You know,” she went on in a confidential whis- per, ‘ever since Arnold Smith struck her dumb I have had an awful time with her. She can’t ask for what she wants. So I jes have to imagine what she'd like, and give it to her. When I get thirsty, I think, * Well, and I give It was only three nights la- ter that I found Marion walking the floor of her own little room, with her pre cious Arabella in her arms, and it was loug past their bed-time. I asked her what she was doing at that late hour. “ Arabella has got such a tooth ache, papa, and she can’t sleep.” ** Marion,” I said, sharply, “how foolish of you to carry your makebe- lieve so far. Go back to bed.” Mrs. Jones looked up at me reproachfully. “It ain't re- ally Arabella who's got the toothache. It’s me. But I pre- tend Arabella’s got it, and then I have so much to do to com- fort her and keep her quiet that I almost for get "bout my own toothache.” **Marion,” I said, and I didn't speak sharply wow, ‘‘that’s not makebelieve. That is sound philosophy, and though you are too young to realize it, you are starting off on the path that leads straight to a peace- ful and contented life.” maybe Arabella is thirsty too;’ her a drink.” ARABELLA WAS SUF FERING FROM A TOOTHACHE. A BOTANICAL PUZZLE |X the above picture there may be found three complete flowers of an every-day variety. But, as may be seen, each flower is on the wrong stem, and the anatomical parts are mixed up generally. Our young readers are asked to give each flower its own stem, etc., in the following way: Obtain a piece of tracing paper (Japanese preferably), trace first a flower, then move the paper about till the right stem comes into proper position under the flower, then trace it in also. When the three flowers have been traced in according to your idea of what is correct, color them nicely, giving them the tints you find in nature. Water-color or crayon may be used for this work. But the former is preferable. Send in the result to the editor of this page, and honorable mention will be made of all those who correctly put together the flowers, and properly color them. Add to this any interesting facts about these flowers that may occur to you, not for- getting to give each one its name.

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Ocroner 7, 1399 HARPER’S BAZAR moa =— aby AUTUMN LEAVES Cream of Wheat Dictures Free With every purchase of that dainty cereal, Cream of Wheat, your grocer will give you your choice from a set of nine beautiful gravures of Northwestern scenery, similar in general character to the above half-tone illustration, but of far finer execution. These gravures are tastily mounted on dark gray or black mats, size 15x17 inches, and are really little gems of art. Ask your grocer to show you the Cream of Wheat pictures. Cream of Wheat is made solely of the gluten of the wheat, literally the “cream,” and in addition to being one of the most healthful and nourishing breakfast foods, can also be used in making a variety of dainty and delicious desserts. You cannot make a mistake in trying it. Made only by CREAM OF WHEAT COMPANY, Minneapolis, Minn. 855

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856 DRESS Correspondents of the Bazan are requested to send in their . fore the ) newers are needed nas a very large correspondence, and regrets that t answer any letters by mail ast three wee K. K. B.—A pretty cloth would be best for you to buy. Do not get too heavy a quality. You can make a gown warm enough by the linings you nse, and it is \ st mistake to buy too heavy a quality of goods lhe coat and ekirt pattern is altogether the best for you, and you can have either a long coat or a medium length. If you will look in Baza, September 9 and 16, you will find good illustrations that you can follow. M. E. B.—To begin with, you will have to rip your waist—that is, you will have to take off the lace and tuke out ihe sleeves. You can make it becoming by using a ficha of black chiffon with a white lace edge or raffle. Then you can have sleeves of black chiffon with white lace over the hands, or you can have all this trimming in white. The skirt, I should think, you could leave very much as it is, but it wonld be fresher if you pat on a couple of accordion-pleats of black mousseline de sole to match the fichu. You can make it with a perfectly tight-fitting guimpe of the same material as the sleeves. Probably your corsets are too tight just above the waist, and that poehes the buet up and makes the waist look badly. You should pot think of having the silk skirt lined, Of course have a dark skirt. 1 should advise leav- ing the moiré by itself without covering it with net, oniess it looks defaced. If it looks defaced, you can use your net and follow out the same instructions I have given. The illustration to which you refer would make you a most excellent model to follow in gray cashmere with black appliqué and yellow collar. The chemisette and tie should be of white lace or of black. It will not do to have another color there. M. A. H.—The cut paper pattern No. 196 is a very good one. I should advise buying a dark biue gown and trimming it with black, and you can put some red velvetonit. In Bazar No. 35 aresome good models, and in the special number, October 7, there are others again. You would better buy a plaid skirt and a red waist, and an all-red costume would be pretty, but I would not trim the red with blue, for there will be very little variety then in your gown. C. B. A.—I should advise a handsome cloth costame for the best, either a blue, brown, or red, as is most be- coming. You will find in October 7 and 14 quite a number of illustrations that will help you. The black brocaded gown you could make exceedingly smart with a long black satin coat for reception wear, and some emart little waists for ordinary occasions. I do not think the foulard gown would be very «mart for evening wear, as it is so emphatically a summer ma- terial, and I should advise having a new gown of vome fancy silk. It would be very easy to remodel the pink evening gown by retrimming it, and there are a great many trimmings pow that are ready made that will certainly help you. E. D.—A mediam-length coat is the best, and either a skirt plain in the back with a seam in the centre, or with two box-pleats in the back. This last is a very new model that bas not yet made its appearance, but is much more becoming than the perfectly plain, for it is quite scant over the hips, and yet has enough fal- pees in the back to make it becoming Many W. R.—Your idea of a gray cloth wrap is very good, but I would not trim it with a dark fur; it will look influitely smarter with one of the light furs, and if you line it with the same color be sure it is a very light shade. In buying the cloth be careful that you get a silvery gray instead of a stone gray. The | bride’s mother might have a very handsome gown made of satin or silk or erépe de Chine, of gray or lavender trimmed with white lace; and black, of course, is always handsome, Mus. F. 8.—The turquoise would look very well sewed on the black lace; they will look even better if you outline them with emall jet beads. No, I do not think an Eton house jacket of velvet would be very govd trimmed with silk fringe. There are some very attractive little silk Etons that have the fronts much longer than the back, but I have seen none of them trimmed with fringe, Yes, the white stiff collar and cuffs will be in good taste, but you must have the stitching very close together and in straight lines rather than in a design. Use either heavy white cloth or eatin, L. P. H.—In Bazas No. 85 is a very attractive gown that I think will be useful for you to copy. A gray crépe de Chine is most attractive, and ought tu be very becoming. You could also bave one of the pretty flowered wilks; fancy silks are going to be fashionable again for semi-forma! occasions, and I should advise sending for some samples of silk before you de- cide in favor of the crépe de Chine. The cashmere would hardly be smart enoagh for your purpose. Peustan.— There is no reason why you should not use the silk of which you enclose sample for aseparate | waist, but you mast make it up very simply, with a | emall equare yoke and stock-collar of black satin The pattern of the silk itself is so elaborate that it would not look well tucked or shirred. M. M.—I have never known anybody to have any satisfaction in cleansing tinsel embroidery, bat you might ask at one of the large cleaning establishments. Ivquieee —The coat to which you refer looks best made in broadcloth or eatin, bat I should not advise it under any circumstances for winter wear. “ Bazan” Apurasa.—Toe begin with, I should advise baying one of the new corsets that will make your your hips emaller, bat your waist larger, and you will be much pleased with your figure when you try them. I should think that the best plan for you would be to use the embroidered shaw! with the crépe de Chine gown; this ought to make you a very handsome cos- tame. The skirts—you can probably use one at least I should recut so as to have the latest style. Buy yourself a satin or a taffeta ehirt-waist tacked all over or made after Iiustrations in Bazan No. 84: then I see nh reason for your not looking well, and yon will only have to bay the one waist. Cannot you have your seal jacket enlarged by using some velvet with it? I have seen that done, and the jacket thas made looked very well. HARPER’S BAZAR Surpassing all Others *¢ All Over the World.”’ Either Lock-Stitch or Chain-Stitch. Each the Best of its Kind. See the Latest [lodel. THE SINGER MANUFACTURING Co. **Salesrooms in Every City in the World.”’ HISTOR An opportunity to add works of merit, in a con- venient way, to your library The interest in History and Biography at the present time is pronounced. No class of reading is more interesting, none more instructive. Knowing many readers of our Bazar would appreciate an opportunity to place in their libraries historical publications of recognized value, we make this offer. YOU MAY SELECT any of the works listed below, and upon request we will forward them to you charges prepaid. It is distinctly undgrstood that such publications as you select are for- warded for approval, and unléss you desire to retain them you are to return at our expense. For the works retained you are to remit the small amount specified for each publication until paid for. The list is a remarkable one, since it includes 10 works by historians of note History of the Decline and Fall of the EDWARD GIBBON Roman Empire. Notes by Dean Milman, M. Guizot, and Dr. William Smith. Over 4000 pages, 8vo size. Six attractive volumes. Special Library Edition. One bo lar a Month for 12 Months. JOHN RICHARD GREEN History of the English People. Phis work is accepted as the true his- tory of this great people. The reputation it enjoys is a guarantee of its merit. About 3000 pages, 8vo size, with maps. Four volumes, substantially bound. One Dollar a Month for 10 Months. DAVID HUME History of England, From the Invasion of Julius Cesar to the Abdication of James II. Over 3500 pages, 8vo size. Six volumes. Special Library Edition. One Dollar a Month for 12 Months. The Making of England. ‘By JOHN RICHARD GREEN far the most satisfactory description of the Anglo-Saxon conquest and settlement.”—C. K. Adams. 434 pages, 8vo size, with maps. One volume bound in calf. One Dollar a Month for Only 3 Months. THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY ed, From the Accession of James HI. The most brilliant and the most popular of all English histories. About 3000 pages, 8vo size. Five volumes. Special Library Edition. One Dollar a Month for 10 Months. ALEXANDER WILLIAM KINGLAKE !vasion of Its Origin ; Its Progress down to the Death of Lord Raglan. About 3000 pages, I2mo size, maps, plans. Six volumes. One Dollar a Month for 12 Months. JAMES BARNES aval Actions of the War of 1812. An ex- ceptional book with twenty-one illustrations in color by Carlton T. Chapman. 263 pages, 8vo size. One volume. 50 Cents for First Month and One Dollar for 4 Months. HELMUTH MOLTKE The Franco-German War of 1870. ** This book will ever remain as the stand- ard one upon this great war.”—Sir Archibald Alison, in Blackwood’s Magazine. 432 pages, 8vo size, with portrait and map. One volume. One Dollar a Month for 3 Months. DO AS The Puritans of Holland, Eng- UGL CAMPBELL land, and America. A work full of interest. Over 1000 pages, 8vo size. Two volumes. One Dollar a Month for 5 Months. Pictorial Field-Book of the Revolu- BENSON J. LOSSING tion; or, Illustrations by Pen and Pencil of the History, Biography, Scenery, Relics, and Traditions of the War for Independence. 1100 illustrations. 1500 pages. Royal 8vo. 2 magnificent volumes. One Dollar a Month for 14 Months. These 10 publications deserve a place in every library in the land, and this offer will certainly place them in many homes. HARPER’S HISTORY CLUB, 142 Fifth Ave., N. Y. DRESS Correspondents of the Bazan are requested to send in their questions at least three weeks before the answers are needed. The Bazan has a very large correspondence, and regrets that it cannot answer any letters by mail. Mee.—Ulsters are to be fashionable this year, espe- cially for girls of your age. They are always good garments to buy. You should have ove of rough tan English goods. Do not, under any circumstances, get black or gray; they are too old for you. If a gray felt is becoming, have that for your school hat; if not, have a dark blue. Lavender and white is very old for you, bat if you have the material you might have it made up after illustration on last page of Bazar No. 33. Tan jackets will be worn. The regulation covert-coat is fashionable every year and every season. A black taf- feta petticoat is quite too old for you. You can have dark bine just as well. A scarlet one will be very good indeed. Velours is altogether too old, and you would better buy silk or poplin. You will have time enough to wear other materials as you grow vider, De.awane.—The ivterlining of albatross cloth, or even cheese-cloth, is a great help in making satin look costly. In the Bazaz of September 16 you will find a number of wedding gowns illustrated and described. Texas Gre..—If you do not wear a wedding gown, it will be quite inappropriate to have bridemaids. If you have a cloth gown for your wedding gown, have a light shade of gray or tan, elaborately trimmed with appliqué of cut-work or lace. For a regular street gown buy broadcloth in coat and skirt pattern. For house wear have a silk gown, crépe de Chine, or cash- mere. Any of these should be made in princesse style. For a taffeta petticoat buy some bright blue. Colored stockings are now fashionable, but you would better have more black ones and just a few pair of colored. You will need some pateut-leather and patent-leather- tipped shoes for dress wear, and patent-leather or satin slippers for evening, and heavy boots for walk- ing. You will do best if, when you bay your trous- seau, you have eight of everything. It is foolish to accumulate more than that nomber in any article of underwear, for the fashions change and garments grow yellow from lying. You should have a felt hat for every-day wear, and for smart occasions a velvet one. H. L.—Yon onght to have a very attractive gown of such beautiful material. The skirts are best lined with black taffeta, and the jackets or coats with light satin— either white or some light color. Five gores are quite sufficient for your skirt. The jacket should be three- quarter length, and shorter in back than in front. You can perfectly well have white satin or brocade, covered with black lace or chiffon; or, better still, have an all-black waist, then have a white one also. In Bazan No. 34 you will fund an illustration of sepa- rate waists. All the different shades of heliotrope and violet will be worn, and there are some charming materials in rough goods, camel's-hair, and cheviota. F. R. 8.—If your skirt is not long enough, you can add an accordion-pleated flounce, but I should advise having it of the white. The red silk would not be very good with it. If you want red—a touch of red with a waist—try a good velvet, just the shade of the sample or a little darker, and have it in the belt or collar. In Bazan of September 16 there are several gowne that you could copy if you look at them care- fully, and in all the Bazans now there are new models. | It is just the time of year when the new models are com- ingin. In October 7, for instance, there will be a great many gowns illustrated, as that is a special autumn bumber. Jeanne K.—You will be much better satisfied if you | line your grenadine all with silk. The blue is never very satisfactory for an entire lining. The yoke of mousseline de soie is becoming, and turquoise blue, if used in velvet in collar and belt or in bows down the front, will be a great improvement. There are some new shades of red that are very becoming, if you do not use too much of them. The shirred rib- bon ought to make the gown look quite fresh. It is always a good trimming. Bany'’s Morugez.—The back of the blouse is plain. The drawers are made either gathered in or else straight like short breeches. Ofcourse any skirts can be worn with these. The long belted coat is the fashion for a little child for winter wear, although it is the fad just now to use the covert-coats made long, bat you can make more lining and more warmth into a long belted-in coat than is really necessary at this season of the year. E. L. J.—Look in Bazan No. 34 for ilustrations of waists. Any one of these on those two pages would be good for you for your cloth gown. White brocade: satin or silk waists are very fashionable, or those in light colors. Iam a little afraid of a broadcloth bolero, unless you have a very good dressmaker. You should have it made of some bright silk, like red or the peri- winkle blue. Look at the new styles in the late Bazar, and see if you cannot find something that would be better than a bolero. L. W.—You can change the pleats or simply turn them around. You will have to do this in all of the skirts. The habit back of the circular skirt with the deep-stitched facing is altogether the best pattern for you to follow. Did you see the golf number of the Bazan? Novemser.—By all means you must have a tailor- made suit. If bine is becoming to you, have blue. The serges are the least expensive and look best for the money. For the coat and skirt, trim it with nar- row bands of white around the edge of the coat and on the edge of the over-ekirt. There are two or three illustrations in the Bazan No. 34 that will help you for this gown. Have a cashmere gown for house wear, made after illustration on page 735, No. 35, and have your evening gown of a pretty figured taffeta silk made with a guimpe. This sort of waist is more useful, because you can wear it aseither a high or low neck. Do not buy a golf cape for evening wear. Get a tan cloth cape made in some rather more dressy effect than the ordinary golf cape. This you will be able to wear for various occasions. Nawtvcker.—You will find a page of illustrations in Bazan No. 87 which wi!! give you all the points you need about your daughter's hair; if you do not find the bow at the back of the hair becoming, yon can put it much higher on the bead and stil) be iu style.

Page 27

THE HOUSEHOLD Correspondents of the Bazan are requested to send in their questions at least three weeks before the answers are needed The Bazan has a very large correspondence, and regrets that it cannot answer any letters by mail Euity.—I do not want to discourage you, but Ido | want to counsel you against any other papers with | gilt figures like the papers which you have selected for your dining-room and hall. My reason is this: the light falling on the gilt seems to change its color when seen from different parts of a room. From one side it wil! seem a dull surface, from the other a shin- ing one. You can never get satisfactory results nor a sense of repose. However, for your comfort let me | tell you that the gilt will make less difference on the | walls for which you have chosen it than it would in any other part of the house. For neither in a dining- reom nor in a hall is one apt to introduce new ele- ments, and the china and silver, both having shiny surfaces of their own, make the whole decorative echeme more symmetrical. I wish you conld have a plain crimson carpet on your hall floor and on your stairs. Be careful that it is crimson, and not a red with purple in it. If you cannot get the right shade, send to some large firm for samples of hall carpet. There are some that give Ori- eutal designs. But you could leave your stairs bare and cover the floor with a long Turkish rong. Many come for that purpose. Why do you attempt to cover the space of your dining-room left uncovered by your rug? No attempt is made in the best-arranged houses to do so. If your floor is not good, fill the cracks, stain and varnieh the surface. You can keep it always bright by rabbing it over every moruing with a coarse rag wet with ker- osene. The odor disappears rapidly, and, moreover, the kerosene helps to keep insects away. Personally I prefer green to any other color in a living-room or library. Bat I am afraid of it for you, since the red of your dining-room is not the red which would look well in conjunction with green. I have tried your sample with every available shade. Try a yellow. It would be especially good in that room, which must be darker than the others which have bow-windows., With yellow you could have red portiéres, and they would look well from either the dining-room or living- room. Do not drape them, bat let hang straight and draw them when necessary. Follow your own suggestions in the rest of the house. They are all good. But I am wondering if you realize what discretion you will have to observe in your room to be filled with the Louis XVI. furniture How careful you will have to be about the elements you introduce! That is always the trouble about any room purporting to give a special period. One must be # true to it in epirit—no wat dering affections can be induiged, no tokens of new friendships be per- mitted. Your tastes, when they begin to grow, must develop iu other directions J. A. L.—Have nataral woods wherever possible They are aiways so much more lovely. Their expense, however, keeps them out of general use. Blue is hardly pretty with cherry In a sleeping-room ; indeed, blue ix one of the most difficult of al) colors to use in a house. Sometimes, but rarely, it is pretty with a little pale yellow, but white seems to be the only satis- factory combination for it. Your library farnitare seems good with its leather covering. If you have plenty of books you will not find it difficult to furnish. HARPER’S BAZAR dillions USC JAMES PYLES, ye PEARLINE HSS, weprste. NEW YORK A Home Test Compare Sojt Soap or Soap Paste made with any Washing Com pound - Soap Powder or Soap (even Castile) with that made with Pearline —— You'll see why Pearline is the Standard and Best

P RSs. have the largest mann. ~ ~ Hose ot | Supporter_—_.<_/: NEVER SLIPS OR TEARS No Stitching in the Elastic 4 Sample pair by mail, 25 cts. Ka Catalogue Free eee Tremont mo Boson

Page 28

\ ; ' THE WALLS OF HOUSES OUR N a room intended for pictures, or in one | ntended for books, we want no distrac- | ms on the walls in the way of flowers if too much color or of obtrusive de yns Any picture which you respect enough to place upon your walls ought to » spared the affront of discordant surround gs. Fancy putting the picture of a“ Dutch rulip Garden by Mr. Hitcheock, which wid by storm only a few years cae fancy putting that on a wall already ered with a tulip paper! Or, again, fan- 1 delicate water-color of Venice, or one rave the blue of an Egy plian sky, hung And in any room itended for books and reading, in any you lesignate as library, how distracting and un stisfactory are flowered walls or intricate ny moment might catch and the attention of the reader, carrying les away in sentiment from the print ed page before him Books in themselves ave color The red and the gold and the rreen of many bindings, with the tawn of rial lf, have a richness about them that inleas it be a rare K the art W : crimson or blue walls des 8 that at nim m ing else can equal Spanish leather - the walls should be plain, miy the books, but the casts and may have a background which |® i library, then 80 that not the portraits vill throw them into relief without making them too pronounced. For you must pay the author of a book that vou are reading in environment in which he intellectual, the thoughtful, and the creative are suggested. He does not want k up from a serious page to one of the gay flower-girls of a Paris boulevard on e compliment of the walls, unless the artist who painted her has made her embody some strong human sentiment snd convinced you of his sincerity i vetting at truth. and not at the purely sensations For that reason the pictures which you put on the walls of your library have both seriousness and beauty; zes should embody A living-room in which d not be treated with the same severity, but here again the walls should not be too obtrusive in themselves, and that part of the room in which the bookcase is built should be made to preserve a character of its own, the same respect being shown it that is shown fireplace and mantel the plaster casts and bror 1 skill there are DOOKS ner sentiment at me UCH tact must be shown in treating a wall covered entirely with a flowered paper, as shown in one of the illustrations m page 851 Nothing else should be at tempted for the walls, and certainly nothing else seems appropriate, unless it be mirrors in gilt frames, brass sconces, or black and whites gs, photographs, or charcoals in gilt frames. Somewhat too formal an irrangement about the window is shown in the iilustration, and plain curtains rather than those repeating the floral designs of the walls would add to the general sense of re- pose. To have to sit with a back to the window in all weathers is not an agreeable prospec At the same time, tables and seats drawn up by the windows, when the config uration of the room permits, add to the liv sble quality Into such a room as the one shown, palms, rubber-plants, ferns, or even freshly cut branches of oak or maple would be more appropriate than blossoms—roses or or bright-colored flowers. White flowers alone would be permissible, the flow etchin carnations ers on the walls being too self-sufficient to give place to any others @en. HEN a floral design is introduced on the walls of a dining-room it is gener lly done for purely decorative purposes, as when a deep frieze is shown, or, as in the il lustration, when the flowers are put above the wainscoting or dado. In this particular instance a gray burlap is used as a dado and finished by the shelf, above which runs the floral design, the prevailing color being blue with dashes of red and yellow The wood- work and furniture are of black oak. Here the plates on the shelf enter also as part of the decorative scheme, china and silver being te a dining-room, in fact, what books or pic tures are to other rooms. Good taste, how ever, requires that glass in a dining-room must be kept under cover or behind closed doors. Fine Bohemian or Venetian glass is shown, but with great reserve. Cut-glass always visible on the side-ta ble. but wineglasses or tumblers, or even cut-glass bowls, have no right to be shown Wall spaces, however, can be utilized for glass and china by the introduction of closets on either side of the mantel, the doors being filled with leaded glass. Sometimes the lead is made to follow a design introducing the monogram of the householder as a running Such clos ets add a touch of richness to the walls that » paper can lend, and are to be recommend er! whenever the circumstances of the owner make it possible Windows in a dining room, especially where fine views are to be had from them, ought to be treated as parts of the wall space. Sometimes a window is built high enough from the floor to allow chau oO tw placed below Lintae Haswisron Freneon. decanters are scroll, not too definite in outline THE ABOVE HARPER’S BAZAR VILEE a NDERWOOD Co OFFER WILL BE WITHDRAWN NOVEMBER I, TWO GOOD BOOKS From One Generation to Another By HENRY SETON MERRIMAN. Cloth, Ornamental, $1 25 FORCEFUL AND ACUTE A book of unusual force, .. . it contains a remarkably acute study of a selfish and silly woman, ... one almost perfect in construction.—Mew York Tribune. Vesty of the Basins By MRS. S. P. McL. GREENE. Cloth, Orna- mental, $1 25; Paper, 50 Cents BETTER THAN “ “Vesty of the is a novel by the author of “Cape Cod Folks,” a book which stir several years ago. The new book isa great deal better than the old one in every respect—New York Herald. CAPE COD FOLKS” Basins ” created a tremendous HARPER & BROTHERS Publishers, New York and London Vout. XXX. No. /THE REMODELLING OF | present SKIRTS HERE is scarcely a phase in the en- tire process of dress-making that pre- sents such puzzling difficulties to the home worker as does the remod- elling of old garments. Especially is this true in the case of adapting old skirt forms to those that now obtain. Take, for example, the transforming of old gored skirts into the present long sheath forms, often circular, although as frequently made in three parts. if the materials at hand are of fine quality, and a fashionable rather than a merely utility skirt is the result aimed for, the remodelling is a matter that demands time, study, and patience—a great deal of patience. aa. FEW words of counsel as to preliminaries. First, do not use old linings, for this is the poorest economy in the world. Use up such old materials for dust-cloths, for any of the numerous bags that are needed in various rts of the house, but get new crisp lining or the new dress-making venture. Cut all materials exactly according to the pattern. Do not experiment in outlines. All such labor has been done for you by the pattern- maker. Provide the sewing-table with plent of needles, pins, basting and regular fmt and resolve to finish seams and foot and waistband of the remodelled garment as carefully as if all the fabrics were but fresh from the loom @a. [% adapting the circular skirt of a year ago to any of the skirts that now obtain, little difficulty will be experienced. The old gar- mevt should be taken apart, well shaken, brushed and pressed, and laid upon a mod- ern pattern. Our circular skirt pattern, No. 139, is the best guide for the remodelling of any early circular skirt, since with the open- ing of the autumn season the lines of this pattern have been reduced to prevailing pro portions. Where the old skirt has shrunk in wearing, as is often the case with cloths, cheviots, serges, and other open-weave stuffs, the foot of the skirt may be lengthened by the addition of stitched bands of silk, velvet, or cloth of darker shade than the skirt ma terial. If the garment is not only shrunk, but also worn about the foot so that cutiing away is necessary, a very pretty effect may be obtained by dividing the skirt at some preferred depth and inserting a band of same or contrasting material of the necessary width. Measurements for such a division should be taken from the waist-line down, and never from the hem up. If this band be in- terlined it will support rows of close machine stitching that will give a decidedly fashion able air to the skirt. Such an inserted band might consist of plaid material, wide ribbon, silk under lace, or of same fwbric as skirt. @n. HE remodelling of gored skirts is less simple thav the foregoing, although the gored garments that were worn three or four years ago may be most easily adapted to the new skirt forms; but the gored skirts that were worn between that period and that of the perfected form of the clinging skirts such insurmountable difficulties that one is almost tempted to dismiss them for the present with a reminder of the old adage that advises the keeping of everything in the way of wearing apparel for seven years. Yet some of the metropolitan tailors are introducing one and two side seams in the sheath skirt forms that immediately sug- gest an opportunity for the use of narrow gored skirts. The new skirts have side seams that descend in straight lines from the hip darts. Moral: Take a sheath-skirt pattern, or, better still, the new skirt, No. 204, and with a stiff yardstick mark straight lines from the point of darts marked in pat tern to foot of skirt. Now lay the old gores on the pattern, letting the seams be shaped according to traced lines. In stitching to- gether, make lapped seams on the outside, as these will give the proper cachet to the gur- ment. These seams have been devised with a view to breaking the wide hip-line of the body, which is especially trying to slightly stout figures en. ys old wide-gored skirt generally consist- ed of a front gore, two narrow side-front gores, and wide side- back portions, although this order of the sie gores was sometimes reversed. These skirts adapt themselves most readily to the three-piece modern skirt. The old front breadths will be found amply large for the same breadth in the new skirt. Laying aside the narrow ores of the old | — (these may be useful for facings or or a flat applied shaped ruffle), the wide side gores will be found of ample width at the top for the side gores of the new skirt. Should they fall short at the centre of the back, small V-shaped gores may be introduced at the foot of the centre back seam without any misgiving as to the effect. In all cases of additional seams, such as these would be, the careful pressing of each cannot be en- i upon the worker too frequently. The atest Bazar pattern suit»ble for remodel- ling a skirt of this kind is No. 204, which is most economical, and possesses altogether smart outlines. Diane bu Bom.

Page 29

OcTopar 7, 1899 F you look at a dozen com- mon lamp-chimneys, and then at Macbeth’s “pearl top” or “pearl glass,” you will see the differences—all but one— they break from heat; Mac- beth’s don’t; you can’tseethat. | Common glass is misty, | milky, dusty; you can’t see | through it ; Macbeth’s is clear. Tough, clear glass is worth fine work; and a perfect chimney of fine tough glass is worth a hundred such as you hear pop, clash on the least provocation. Our “Index”’ describes a// lamps and their proper chimneys. With it you can always order the right size and shape of chimney for any lamp. We mail it FREE to any one who writes for it. Address Macsern, Pittsburgh, Pa. to waste, or to bn or soil garments. Chicago, Hi., U.S.A, BEAUTIFUL COMPLEXION J is the sure result of using LABLACHE FACE POWDER It imparts to the complex- ion a delicate softness and beauty. Invisible on appli- cation, Most refreshing and anes to use. Prevents sunburn, roughness, and other distressing blemishes of the complexion caused —S im \ by the heat of summer or travel by sea or land. Use no other. Sold by all first-class druggists in America, and by ROBERTS & CU., 5 Rue de la Paix, Paris; 76 New Bond Street, Lon- don, and KINGSFORD & CO., 54 Piccadilly, W., London. BEN.LEVY & ©0., Sole Prope; Boston, Mass. BABIES ON FIRE With Itching, Burning Skin and Scalp Humors Will find Instant Relief, as well as rest and sleep, from the most torturing and disfigur- ing of itching, burning, bleeding, sealy, and crusted skin, scalp, and blood humors, with loss of hair, in warm baths with Curicura Soap, followed by gentle anointings with CuricuRa (ointment), purest of emollients. and greatest of skin cures. Maivinid"@RERM En Permanently plexion to its ness. atin on of 50c. Use Malvina ionTHy L SOAP HARPER’S BAZAR Corresponden Bazan has a very A CHAPTER OF SMALL THINGS. BY CHRISTINE TERHUNE HERRICK. OST of the things inexperienced housekeepers want to know are not in the cook-books. At least, this is what the inexperienced house- keepers themselves will tell you. They will plagiarize Mr. Lincoln so far as to ee ee some of the things are in all of the ks, but that all the things are in any of the books they are not pre- pared to grant. For some of the minor bits of information they crave they have sought high and low, earnestly, and with tears, but always in vain. ‘The inexperienced housekeeper is by no means invariably ignorant of cookery. On the contrary, she may have taken lessons at a cooking-school, and there learned to make a variety of ornamental and even of useful dishes. She may have seen the teacher make bread, and herself have compounded a pan of biscuits or muffins. Such instraction is of as little value to her, however, when her own first baking sours in the rising as is her knowledge of how a steak should be broiled of account when her fire persists in smoking, | or is so low that clear hot coals are unattain- able. If the cook-books do not provide hints for these and scores of other emergencies that arise in the experience of every young house- keeper it is ause the writers of these manuals take too much for granted. The bave themselves so clear an idea of what the next thing to do when for any reason the first thing is barred out, that they fail to grasp the possibility that other workers who are less skilled might not have equal readi- ness of perception. To the writer on house- keeping topics it seems sometimes that she insults the intelligence of her readers when she repeats again aud again the minute di- rections that would, in her opinion, be super- fluous to a child. But the instructor makes a great mistake if she takes anything for nted. “The things that I like about Mrs. Blank’s receipts is that they are written as if they were meant for fools,” said an energetic young matron in my hearing a few weeks ago. Apart from the fools—or, to put it more charitably, the stupid and unintelligent— who follow prio rules, there is a large class of housekeepers who by no means be- long to this rather unflattering category, and yet have dreadful struggles with the minu- tiw of cookery. All the knowledge of isms and ologies, classics und modern languages, | art and music that a college girl may have crammed into her clever brain may not en- | able her to regulate the draughts of a kitchen range, or teach her that when she is making a custard the eggs should be stirred into the hot milk with deliberation and care. The student of chemistry may know that when | She wishes to draw the juices from soup- meat she should put it on the fire in cold unsalted water, not in hot brine; but she may not of her own motion remember that while she does not grease the gridiron when broiling steak, she should rub a little fat on it if chicken or fish is to be cooked over the coals. To many housekeepers such suggestions will sound puerile, but there are some to whom even matter-of-course hints will be of value. Certain women who do much of their summer cookery over a wood fire or on an oil-stove will hail with joy the informa- tion that steak can be given a dry broil ina frying-pan, if the pan is made smoking hot and the steak seared quickly on both sides and then turned often until done. I know one woman who had never been able to fry | potatoes satisfactorily until she was told that after the boiling fat had been chilled by the addition of the sliced raw potatoes it should be left on the hottest part of the stove for one or two minutes until it recovers its high temperature, and then moved to the side of the stove, where the rest of the cooking could be done over a less fierce heat. Near- ly every good cook-book will tell its readers that rice to be properly cooked must have at least two quarts of boiling water for each cupful of the raw rice, but Sew many man- uals emphasize the fact that new potatoes should be put on to boil in hot water and old potatoes in cold? We are sometimes told that certain pieces of meat to be roasted should have boiling water poured over them after putting them into the pan. Many a cook has ruined a good roast by doing this, when she could have sealed the pores of the meat far more satisfactorily by cooking it for the first ten or twelve minutes in an extremely hot oven, and then lowering the temperature, so that the meat would cook properly throughout without becoming scorched and horny on the surface. So, too, many a stew has been injured because after the meat and vegeta- bles composing it has been sauté in hot fat, the glaze thus formed has been washed off by the careless or ignorant cook who pour- ed the hot water that was to make the gravy directly upon the meat instead of around it. How many young housekeepers know that they will spare themselves tears if when peeling onions they will hold knife CUISINE ts of the Bazam are requested to send in thelr questions at least three weeks before the answers are needed. The large correspondence, and regrets that it cannot answer any letters by mail. and vegetable in cold water? How many understand that lettuce should always be torn or broken, because cutting bruises the tender leaves, or that in dressing a green salad the oil should be put on before the vinegar? And while 5) ing of salad, let me say that I had been ping house many years before I learned that if mayonnaise dressing curdled in the making it need not on that account be thrown —— If set aside, and the dressing begun again de novo with the yolk of another egg, the curdied dressing may be added to the good as soon as the latter has received enough oil and stirring to thicken it well. Nearly all these fragments of knowledge tend to promote true economy. Such a frag- ment, for instance, as that the raw yolks of eggs left over when the whites have been employed in a méringue may-be kept for several days in a bowl of cold water, and will at the end of that time be as good for custard or scrambled ogee as when first broken. Lemons, too, will keep better cov- ered with cold water than in a et. An- other irrelevant but useful piece of informa- tion is that meat that has a suspicion of taint about it need not always be thrown away, but may be saved by being washed first in a strong solution of baking-soda and cold water and then in vinegar, to restore the flavor. The fat should be cut off and cast aside, as that is generally the part most seriously affected. In continuation of these broken fragments of instruction it may be stated that cranber- ries cooked by steam in a double boiler, with no water except that in the outer vessel, are darker in hue and richer in flavor than those put directly into the water and stewed. Familiarity with some of the parts soda may play in a kitchen is of use. A pinch of it will keep milk or cream from curdling when boiled. In making tomato soup a bit of soda the size of a pea should be added to the tomatoes before they are put with the 859 This cake of soap sent free for a 2-cent stamp We have prepared 200,000 good-sized sample cakes for readers of Harprr’s Bazar— all we ask of them is a stamp to pay the postage. We can only afford to make this offer because we know that if you health and you also consider how you get it. /_—no one else dares to expose value cleanliness Read our statement below the source of soap supplies. hot milk. Many cook-books give this hint, | but few tell that dried beans, for which the | direction “soak overvight” is given, will be soft enough for six o'clock dinner if put to soak in the morning with a tiny pinch of this same valuable alkali. A similar addi- tion will keep fresh or beans a bright- er nm than when cooked without it. A little soda may also be added to soups that have any tendency to acidity. Whipping cream is considered a sort of culinary crux by numbers of housekeepers, who might be spared all trouble with this simple dish did they but know that the cream must be well chilled before the whip- ping begins. If the cream is twenty-four ours old, the process is almost certain to result in success. I own to an unworthy temptation to quote good old “ Pinafore” at this juncture, and | say, “Though I’m anything but clever, I could talk like this forever.” But lack of space, as well as respect for the housewifely attainments of my well-in- formed readers, checks my pen. Mas. L. D.—1. In frying fish or croquettes salad oi! may certainly be used, but it is so expensive that most cooks use lard in its place. If the lard is sweet, deep, and boiling, it will serve your purpose perfectly well. 2 To make Nesselrode pudding, make a rich custard of a quart of milk, 4 cupfuls of sugar, and 8 eggs. Scald the milk, pour it on the beaten eggs and sugar, and return to the range in a double boiler. Stir until the custard is thick enongh to coat the spoon, then remove from the fire and flavor with 2 teaspoonfuls of vanilla. When cold, tarn into a freezer and grind un- til half frozen. Have ready a half-pound of marrons glacés, minced fine. Remove the paddle from the freezer, and with a long-handled spoon stir the mar- rons into the half-frozen custard. Put the top back ou the freezer, and pack down in ice and rock-salt for | three hours. Turn the frozen pudding into a chilled piatter and heap whipped cream around it. This is the simplest form of Nesselrode pudding. A more elaborate preparation of this popular dessert has stirred into it, besides the marrons, minced crystallized fruit and blanched and chopped al 4 A Reaper.—The following receipts will show you some of the ways in which bananas may be served for dessert: Bananas and Cream.—Lay the fruit in the ice antil thoroughly chilled. Peel and cut in slices, and serve immediately with sugar and cream. Bananas and Wine.—Prepare as in the above re- ceipt, only substituting wine for the cream. Baked Bananas.—Tear a strip of skin from each ba- nana, and lay the fruit, the peeled side uppermost, in a baking-pan. Pour a very little water in the bottom of the pan, cover closely, and bake the bananas for twenty-five minutes. Remove the skins, lay the fruit on a hot platter, and serve with a sauce made as follows: Rub 2 heaping tuble-spoonfals of butter and a cup of powdered sugar to a cream, add the unbeaten whites of 2 eggs, and beat until very light. Into this stir a half-cup of boiling water and the same quantity ofsherry wine Put into a double boiler over the fire, and beat until the sauce froths; then serve at once. E. P.—To pickle eggs, first boil them until hard, throw them into cold water, and, when covl, remove the shells. Pack the eggs in quart jars, and fill the © jars to overflowing with boiling vinegar spiced with equal quantities of mace, white pepper-corns, and whole cloves. Quickly screw on the tops of the jars, 80 as to exclude all air. HYOMEI! Antiseptic Skin Soap is a revelation to soap- users, and is made from the Fresu GREEN LEAVES OF THE TASMA- NIAN BLuE Gum TREE. Perhaps you have not given it a thought, but there has never been but one way of making soap; the base of all, from the commonest washing to the finest toilet, has always been the same—fats, grease, or oil combined with an alkali. To be sure, different grades of these materials are used, delicate perfumes and medicament of some kind often added, but nine-tenths of every cake of soap made is composed of the above ingredients. In fact, it has always been thought that soap could not be made in any other way, and for this reason no physicians have ever recommended the use of any soap for the skin. As a general thing, they are made from cheap fats and grease collected by street scavengers, and thrown out from houses in which all kinds of disease are prevalent ; however, of late most of the oils used come from incinerating plants now erected near all large cities, where is burned the refuse collected from private houses, hotels, and restaurants. Thousands of gallons are produced in this way every year, and, being too cheap for other uses, is purchased almost exclusively by soap-makers. It is claimed that the heat used destroys all the germs of disease; but the medical profession assert the contrary, and state that the use of cheap soap accounts for most of the blotched and pimpled faces we see daily. One thing, at least, has been proven conclusively—that the dry and scaly skin with which so many persons are troubled is due to the use of alkali in soap. However true this may be, the thought of using such products daily is not a pleasant | one, and the discovery of a method by which soap can be made without these dangerous ingredients will be hailed with delight by all. Hyomei Antiseptic Skin Soap it is the most perfect Toilet and Medicinal Soap ever known, and the first one to be manufactured by the new process. Made from the fresh green leaves of the Tasmanian Blue Gum Tree, and con- taining all its fragrant, well-known healing and antiseptic qualities, this soap will be a revelation to users. As a skin food it has no equal. It acts not only as a cleanser and preventive of disease, but cures all cutaneous affections in a short time. It gives a rich, creamy lather, an invigorating and refreshing odor, and leaves the skin soft, white, and velvety. HYOMEI ANTISEPTIC SKIN SOAP is sold by all druggists. Price, 25c. If your druggist does not keep it, we will send by mail on receipt of price. Don’t forget our offer—send 2c. stamp for postage and we will mail FREE sample cake. | R.T. BOOTH CO., Ave. K, Ithaca, N.Y,

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Put up in convenient packages, cnough for two big pies. Drop postal for book, *‘ How to Make Good Things to Eat.” Libby, MoNeill & Libby, Chicago 3B Harper’s Catalogue Descriptive list of their publica- HARPER’S BAZAR AN AMERICAN WOMAN AS AN HE quartette of American women painters in oil who stand perhaps most prominent as having achieved the greatest honors abroad are Miss Mary Cassatt, Miss Cecilia Beaux, Miss Kate Carl, and Miss Elizabeth Nourse. Miss Cassatt is a New England artist, who has lived in Paris many years, and who was made a Sociétaire of the Champ de Mars in its early beginning. Her work is most in- teresting and original, belonging to the im- pressionist school, but having a peculiar | strength and vigor that suggest now and then tions, with portraits of authors, | will be sent free to any address on receipt of (postage) ten cents. Horsford's Acid Phosphate Strengthens the stomach and creates @ good appetite for food. Genuine bears name Horsford's on wrapper. | a power almost brutally realistic, mingled with marvellously fine imagination, and a sentiment poetic and refined. She is the only woman whose work has | been honored by a place in the Caillebotte collection of the Louvre, along with that of Manet and the other great artists of the im- pressionist school. Her picture there is an idealized portrait of a mother and child, a | study broad, sympathetic, and interesting, the finest picture perhaps that she has ever painted. Her exhibition in New York some years ago was the sensation of that season in the art world. She is not only a painter in oils, but is great in pastels as well, and stands among the foremost etchers of her time. en. F Miss Beaux and her work the Bazar has spoken at length already. Her pic tures in Paris were the sensation of the new Salon but a few years ago. She came, they saw,and she conquered ,and every canvas was hung on the line at once, and she was then decorated with all the honors that the Champ de Mars could bestow. This year in Lon- don at the Knightsbridge exhibition, where Whistler and many other great artists, scorn ful of the prescribed and official exhibits, elected to give the public a glimpse of their genius, a canvas by Cecilia Beaux attracts countless admiring critics, and before it one often hears a whisper—** Ah, yes, like Sar gent, quite as broad and direct and strong in treatment, but so much easier.” This canvas is the painting of two girls dancing ISS KATE CARL, an American woman with a German father and an Irish mo- ther, was reared in Memphis, Tennessee, in early girlhood, and educated afterward in Europe. To-day she is one of the most in teresting artists now wearing honors in Paris. She came to Paris with her mother to live fourteen years ago, and literally jumped right into fame, for the first picture which she sent to the Salon was accepted at once and hung on the line. Nor is this the only remarkable thing about it, for this was the first picture she ever painted in her life. It was called ‘‘The Harmony,” and had that wonderful accord of color with feeling that has made her succeeding work so dis- tinctive. Her arrangements, if she were not a woman, and if aitists might not con sider it a sacrilege to say it even of a man, could be compared to Whistler's; as for the absolute simplicity and grace of her treat ment of every subject she touches, these qualities are peculiarly her own @a. ISS NOURSE is Western by birth, and her art studies began in Cincinnati. Af terwards she went to New York, and stucied under Sartain. She has been living abroad now ten years, and during that time has studied under Lefebvre, Carolus Duran, and Henner. She was the second American wo man to be made an Associate of the Champ de Mars, and she bas exhibited in the Salon for eleven years. She has also exhibited often in America, and won the first medal at the Chicago Exhibition. Elizabeth Gardner (Madame Bougue- reau) is among the foremost American ar- tists; her work has been known to us man years. Always of a high degree of excel- lence, and possessing in feeling, if not in perfection of modelling and certain other excellencies distinctly academic, a greater charm than that of ber great master, it is nevertheless a fact deplored by the public when a woman follows so distinctly in the line of her tutor. Her paintings are often taken to be those of Bouguereau by people in general, but many of the best critics give her gifts even a higher and more enduring place. She has been for many years an ex- hibitor at the Salon, and was made an As- sociate of the Champ de Mars in the days of its beginning. The work of Mrs. Frederick MacMonnies, on the other hand, is distinctly apart from that of her husband, and there is no woman painter of to-day whose uninfluenced, origi- | nal sbility stands forth with more distinct- ness. A painter of the broad school, she delights in independence of treatment and a realistic warmth of color. Her out-door figure studies are particularly vigorous and charming; she delights in fine contrasts of sun and shadow, in white garments and soft hair, and lovely eyes filtered through with the warm light of summer. @n. RS. GEORGIA TIMPKIN FRY. is one of our most interes’ sheep-painters, and the only one among American women OIL-PAINTER. who has achieved distinct success in this branch ofart. She delights in landscapes also, and her studies of the grand forest of Fon- tainebleau—the purple amethystine mystical glow of its evening shadows, the dramatic stillness of the tall sentinel-trees—are full of poetry and feeling, bespeaking a masterful hand. Her work is low in tone and sympa- thetic in treatment. She bas studied under Schenck, the great sheep-painter, and under ey She has exhibited three years in the Salon, and her work each succeeding year has cre- ated added interest and praise from Paris critics. She has returned now to her home in St. Louis, there to pursue her art, for she declares that ber own country offers her more inspiration than any other. While many women artists have won hon- ors in America and France, few bave en- tered the field of art in London and made a distinctive success. Miss Eva Withrow, a California artist, deserves mention as one of these few. At the Royal Academy of 1898 a painting from her clever brush was accepted and hung on the line, and afterwards purchased by the Graves Gallery in Pall Mall, one of the great- est commercial galleries in England. NOTHER American woman who bas re- cently wou honors in England is Mrs. Thurber, who exhibited for the first time at the Salon of this year. Miss Lee Lufkin, a young Ohio artist, is one of the notable artistic successes among American women painters, and deserves especial mention because of the fact that the immediate recognition she received in Paris was given to her as a complete stranger. In 1898 she sent three portraits to the Champ de Mars, and they were immediately accept- ed and hung on the line. She had not a single acquaintance in the art world at the time, having come over for a first visit, her previous study having been with Mr. Dewey of New York. After this she studied with Arman Jean. She is a painter of the broad school, strong and sympathetic. Miss Grace Woodward, of Massachusetts, has won honors in Paris for her Venetian scenes, having exhibited three years now at the Salon. Into her canvases she has put all the color, the feeling, the lazy, sumptuous enchaniment, of Venice. Miss Klumpke, of California, the eldest of a trio of gifted sisters, is a figure-painter of breadth and originality, and has been an ex- hibitor for several years at the Salon. Miss Dickson is ove of the few women whose work has been bouglt for the Lux- embourg. Her canvas for the Salon of 1898, called ‘* Mistletoe,” the study of a girl stand- ing by a highly polished mahogany table, clusters of mistletoe above her head, created a great sensation at the time, and the govern ment has asked to purchase it for the Lux- embourg. Her work is characterized by great strength and grace of execution and a marvellous charm of composition. Mrs. Dumond of Portland, wife of the well-known illustrator and puinter of reli- gious subjects, is another American woman who may be put upon our honor roll. She has exhibited three years at the Salon, her most interesting canvas being perhaps a Joan of Arc, the famous battle-maid in her pea- sant’s dress beneath the trees, the study in low tones of green, the figure very simple and profoundly dramatic. Miss Kempton Trotter is one of the best Thompson and Gaston Guignard, | of our figure-painters. A Philadelphian by | birth, she received her first training at the Philadelphia Academy, and two years ago | came to Paris to work and win her way, which she bas done most successfully, hav- ing been, since her first year abroad, an an- nual exhibitor at the Salon, and for several years also at the Champ de Mars. Miss Lucy Lee Robbins, a pupil of Carolus Duran, is a broad, strong painter of portraits and figure subjects, and an exhibitor in the Salon. Just as man have won thelr reputations through their portraits of women, it is probable that a num- ber of our women portrait- painters will make reputations through their pictures of men. @n. NUMBER of American women have al- great men portrait-painters | ready won distinction in this direction, | among them Mrs. Leslie Cotton, of New | York, whose portrait of the Duke of Cam- bridge was exhibited in the Salon some years ago; she has also painted Mr. Chauncey Depew and many other Americans of dis- tinction. . Miss Mary Franklin, a Southern woman, has won honors in Paris by her portraits of men, the finest, perhaps, being that of a French officer exhibited in the Salon of 1897. Mrs. Alice Barney, of Washington, D. C., a pupil of Whistler's and Carolus Duran’s, is a delightful painter of the broad school. Her portraits of women and her ideal studies have a spirit and color suggestive of the fine old English masters. She is, being a woman of wealth and fashion, not perhaps as serious in her work as many others, but no woman has done more for the interest of art in America than herself. is the very inspiration and backbone of artistic life. Maupe ANDREWS. In Washington she | i This is a photograph of James Robert Clair, 64 Rich- field St., Dorchester, Mass., one of our Mellin’s Food babies. His mother, wrote, “He is now eighteen months old, has cut all his teeth with very little trouble and is fat, heai!thy and rugged.” : If YOUR baby isn’t doing as well as you hoped he would don’t feel discouraged —tr Mellin’s Food. It has rai thousands of the bright babies in the world. We send you a sample free you wish. MELLIN’'S FOOD CO., BOSTON, MASS. Rae’s Lucca Olive Oil... eS | Perfection of Quality with Absolute | Purity S. RAE & CO.,| Leghorn, Italy. Established 1836. | For Eating, Orinking and Cooking, — f Puri Mate aa Winwore L GROCERS EVERYWHERE Englend The leading masical tae cdeztegond» Uase- stitution of America. Founded 1853. OF MUSIC passed advantages in com- position, vocal and instrumental music, and elocution. George W. Chadwick, Musical Director. Pupils received at any time. For prospectus address FRANK W. HALE, Genera! 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Mapes.—The most fashionable tally-cards nowadays are made of plain heavy white card-hoard with plain bevelled edges, ornamented with the engraved crest or mouogram of the hostess and the date of the enter- tainment. If one does not wish to use a monogram or crest, the cards may be decorated at home with pretty little painted designs and mottoes. Little col- ored pencils should be attached to the cards with dif- ferent-colored baby-ribbons. Serve at the entertain- ment very thinly cut buttered-bread sandwiches filled with lettuce leaves and mayonnaise, toast sandwiches with anchovy paste filling and aspic jelly, and chicken salad with olives, for the first course; for the second course, ice-cold preserved apricots, with whipped cream and cake; bonbons, and coffee in after-dinner coffee-cups, last of all. The aspic jelly may easily be made at home. The apricots should be frappéd, or half frozen. Nothing could be nicer than both these dishes, and both are new and a little unusual. You will find other snggestions which may be of help in answer to “ Pazzied Reader,” Bazan No, 18. M. E. M.—At present the bride’s parents pay all the expenses of the wedding, with the exception of the minister's fee, and the carriage used by the groom in going to the church or house and from the church to the honse with the bride, and the carriage he uses when he starts from the house with the bride on the wedding journey; these are the groom’s expenses. It used to be the custom for the groom to pay for the wedding-cards and for opening the church, but he no longer does so. W. C. B.—It is not necessary to return visite of con- dolence, but the visits must be acknowledged by the mourner with black-bordered cards within two weeks from the time they were made. The cards should be sent by hand, not by post. Peueiexity.—Do not follow your second idea. It is never good form to announce an entertainment in a newspaper; one should always send out invitations, ne matter how emall and informal the entertainment will be. I would certainly advise yon to carry out your firet-mentioned intention. Enclose with your own cards yoar mother's visiting-cards, writing on both the date and the hours of the tea; or write this on your mother’s cards alone, ax she is the hostess par excel- lence, and enclose your cards with hers in envelopes which fit them exactly for the invitations. tertainment need not be at all elaborate. The en- Ask some of your women friends to dispense hoepitnlities at a prettily decorated tea table, and serve iced and hot tea, sandwiches, cake, and bonbone, and a cold drink, too, if you like—lemonade or café frappé. Decorate the rooms with flowers and plants, and have them well lighted E. B. M.—The correct way to send wedding-cards is to address one to the Neads of a family, one to each of the sons, and one to the daughters, addressing the last as Lhe Misses Smith All the envelopes contain- | HARPER’S BAZAR ANSWERS ON ETIQUETTE ing there separate cards may be enclosed iu one large envelope, which should be addressed to the heads of the family. It is not good form or correct to send only one wedding invitation to an entire family. Winwxoonne.—Here is one of the best ideas for en- tertaining a party of children out-of-doors that I have ever seen or tried: Procure, if you can, a quantity of small china eggs, or hire the large white china eggs from a caterer; or, if unable to get either, use marbles of all sorts and sizes and colors. Give each child on arriving a little basket tied with a pretty ribbon, and tell them all.to hunt for the marbles—all beginning the hunt at the same time. Before the children come the marbles must be hidden all over your grounds—in the bushes, in the tree tranks, in pots of flowers, and in every nook imaginable. Every child may find twen- ty, bat no more, and as soon as that namber has been found the children stop hunting. When all have their baskets full—and of course the smallest people must have some aseistance—the children stand up, and the prizes ure distributed. There is one for the child who filled his basket firat, one for the child with the most blue, another for the one with the most red, and so on; of course there are consolation prizes. This pastime will, I know, be popular. Another fine entertainment is to provide a large bag made of thin paper and suspend this between two trees. The chil- dren are blindfolded, and each in turn given a long wand and turned around, then started in the direction of the bag. The object is to strike the bag and reveal its contents, which are a quantity of toys, for which all the children scramble, the best one going to the child who hits the bag. Fishing-pond is always of unfail- ing interest ; and of course al! such games as pinning ou the donkey's tail blindfolded, hitting the pipe ont of the old woman's mouth, and any of the ont-door sporte—archery, croquet, avd so on. You will find mavy of these given and other suggestions in answer to “ Nellie E.,” Bazan No. 28, and to “ Playtime,” Ba- zan No. 16. I would advise from three to six o'clock, rather than from four te seven, for a children’s fall party; it is apt to be cold early so late in the year. Your idea of serving the supper out-of-doors is good if the day is pleasant. Make a little hollow square of the tables, and decorate them with flowers, bonbonsa, and little favors for each one. Have some kind of hot soup first, then creamed chicken in little paper cases, with sandwiches, milk, and cocoa; then ice-cream and cake and candy. A Jack Horner pie is always popa- lar, and a cake in which a ring for the girls is hidden, and another in which is a favor for the boy who dis- covers it. J. B.—We will soon publish an article on the subject of your questions which will give you more suggestions than we can put in this limited space. A man always precedes a woman in going into a theatre or any pub- lic place of amusement, or a hotel or restaurant; but a woman enters a church and a private dwelling be- fore aman. There should never be any meseage writ- ten on a visiting-card that is sent as a regret to a tea. The card speaks for iteelf; to write even “ regreta” is unnecessary, and bad form. Ip answering an invita- tion to a large college reception and dance a written note should be sent worded like the invitation. Even an invitation to a small informal college dance demands an answer, but vot a personal note of acknowledg- ment, unless the invitation was in that form or given verbally, then a personal note is correct; otherwise a formal regret or acceptance, worded in the third per- | son, should be sent. Mark. —As the first invitation that you give is for an at home where cards are to be a feature, I should cer- | tainly say that it demanded an answer. The hostess will want to know how many guests to expect, in or- der to arrange her tables. The form of the anewer should be as nearly as possible like the invitation, and read as follows: Mrs. John Smith accepts with pleasure (or regrets that she is unable to accept) Mrs. James L. Harrington's and Miss Harrington's kind invitation for Friday evening, March the tenth. Besides this written reply, it would be proper to ac- knowledge the invitation, which is for a reception as well as for a card party, with visiting-cards. The lat- ter should be sent to reach the hostess on the day of the function. The invitation demands an after-call, which should be made within a few weeks after the entertainment. Invitation No. 2 that you quote cer- tainly demande an anewer, as it is for an evening dance. Word the reply like the invitation—formally, in the third person; and as it is sent to you and your husband, you should make an after-call with him; or, if that is impossible, leave his cards with yours when you call—one for each of the ladies mentioned in the invitation. When making an after-call in acknow- ledgment of invitation No. 8, which is for a tea with cards, like invitation No. 1, but sent in the name of two sisters, you should certainly ask for and leave cards for both ladies, even if you are only acquainted with one of them; it is particularly required as the younger unmarried sister is your friend and the mar- ried woman the hostess. Word the regret for this in- vitation exactly like the form given for No.1. An in- vitation to a lancheon, however informal, demands an immediate answer. An invitation to a small informal tea demands no answer; and while a guest at a lanch- eon should always make an after-call, the hostess of a small tea is in debt to her callers, Never leave a vis- iting-card at a luncheon, but always at a tea. The book published by Harper & Brothers, called Manners and Social Usages, by Mrs. Sherwood, wil! probably give you all the information that yon want on these subjects. Mary W. R.—For a Christmas wedding the honse and church should both be decorated with greens and holly and a quantity of emall fir-trees. The last should 861 be ased instead of palms in the altar of the church, and as a background for the bride and groom at the honse, in the entrance hal), and wherever palms would naturally be placed. Jerusalem cherries in pots should be placed among the firs to brighten them, and big bunches of holly should be tied at the church at every pew-post to about half-way down the aisle; wreaths of evergreen should run along the pew-rails, and be looped from the cornices of the receiving-rooms in the house, and festooned over the windows aud door- ways. The mantels should be banked with holly, bunches of mistletoe should be hung from all the gas- fixtures, and red roses or red carnations and poinsettia leaves should be the flowers in evidence. The centre- piece of the refreshment table should be of red flow- ers, and they should be in vases and jars among the green everywhere. The groom should present to his best man and ushers and the bride to her attend- ants souvenirs suggestive of the time of year—fans decorated with painted holly, pins with red enamelled holly-berries. Hager C. M.—When introducing a man to a wo- man always present the former, saying, for instance, *T want to present Mr. Smith to you, Miss White,” or, * Mies White, may | present Mr. Smith 7” In the same way, always prevent a younger to an older lady—see anewer to “ L. H.G.,"" Bazan No. 85. There is no fixed rule about who shall speak first after an intro- duction ; usually the woman takes the initiative and introduces a topic, but whatever is natural is correct. A tactfal introducer will never leave two people with- out starting them in conversation, however, and it is really the duty of the introducer to see that there is no awkwardness, It is difficult to answer your question about when an after-call is expected for a tea or recep- tion. An ordinary small tea does not demand a call, neither do days or informal receptions, but a large and formal reception demands a call, You will always | have to judge for yourself what is correct, and go by what the people about you do; but be sare to err on the side of being over-courteous, if on any. A dangh- ter who has not made her début formally or informally into society should not make calls with her mother or receive visitors, and visitors do not ask for her when calling on her mother. I do not, of course, mean that a young woman has to be formally introduced at a big “coming ont” to be in society; bat when she leaves school her mother should in some way, either | by taking her to call with her or by having her name engraved on her cards with her own, indicate that she is “ont.” When calling on several ladies who are of one housebold it is not necessary to leave a quantity of cards; leave one for the hostess and one for all of the other ladies inclusive, but be sure to ask for al/ the ladies at the door. No one way of doing up a parcel is better form than another. When possible one should always use white tisene-paper, and a pretty, dainty ribbon or cord, and put the address on a card if the parcel is sent by hand ; otherwise the address is nenally put on the side where the edges of the paper do not show. ADVERTISEMENTS. LIEBI i A SOUTH AMERICAN CATTLE FARM.®#. Fine material and fine workmanship produce fine articles.: Company have their own immense Sy cattle farms in South America,where ; many prize cattle, adapted by nature to the climate and soil, found, and where the finest animals reared in the richest pastures of the world are reared for the manufacture of COMPANYS EXTRACT The Liebig are to be LiL) OF BEEF. t f’ GENUINE ° . y + SIGNED IN BLUE. AE SS REIN on “f . vs, a Me , : 4 iw ;, Le al =. > ft fe es eRe, ae 4 , ae rd len Z ou Shay pe Py ae

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SPUN-GLASS RUSIL (TRADE-MARK) DRESS LININGS. Under the name “‘RUSIL” FINISH, we have put on the market several grades of Dress Linings— thirty- SIX inches wide—which, in beauty of texture and in brilliancy of lustre, represent the highest type of per- fection ever achieved in lining ma- terial. We especially recommend the SPUN-GLASS RUSIL brand, which is for sale in Fast Black (the celebrated ‘‘Midnight” fast black) and all staple and fancy colors at all first-class dry-goods stores—Retail Price, Twenty-five Cents a Yard. The names “SPUN GLASS” and “RUSIL” are stamped on a ticket attached to each piece of the goods. Ask for SPUN-GLASS RUSIL, and ask to be shown this name on the ticket. Do not accept substitutes. If you have trouble getting SPUN-GLASS RUSIL at your dealer’s, write us, and we shall see that you get slies you want. J.W. GODDARD & SONS, New York | | HARPER’S BAZAR WITH A TEN HE hope of the world lies in the children, while the continuance of national prosperity rests with the waifs that throng the city streets. It has been said that “crime ‘can- not be prevented by punishment. Crime can only be prevented by letting no child grow up acriminal.” It has also been stated y close observers that one-tenth of the present cost of guarding against disorder and the punishment of crime applied to the yo care and training of children from babyhood until the average of ten years of age would save to a community within one generation many times the amount of the original outlay, besides adding enor- mously to the equipment for production. It is more economical! to prevent crime than to punish it; to make new structures than to remodel old ones. Reformatory institutions are only repair-shops where secondary work is done, for the first six years of a child’s life are the most important wherein primal work is accomplished. It was Juvenal who said, ‘‘The man’s character is made at sev- en; what he is then, he will always be.” Modern educators unite in affirming that the public schools and the average philanthro- vist do not get hold of the child soon enough. Vou. XXII1., No. ia Stern Bros direct attention to their Fall Importations of their celebrated Classique Corsets in new models, specially designed for the present mode of costumes and of exclusive materials Included are several very desirable styles, made of Silk Broche Batiste in all colors and exquisite effects, $6.75, $7.75, $0.25 West 23d St. herefore whenever a Ten is in doubt re- | ———————— garding a choice of service, safety lies in working for little children. 2a. ITTLE children can be most directly reach- ed and helped by means of free kindergar- tens. These kindergartens have been con- ducted in some cities at the average cost per child, exclusive of rent, of a little more than a dollar a month. When schools are estab- lished in the slums of a city the room costs little, and at first wooden horses and boards | can serve for seats and tables, When the school equipment is in oa with the home surroundings the child fearee that character, cleanliness, and good habits are not dependent upon elegance. It is better to begin simply and graduate to better ex- ternals as the training progresses, rather than to install the children at first into luxurious quarters. The giving of self is the highest service. Educated girls cannot devote time, money, and strength to more valuable work than teaching these little waifs. Vacation and manual-training schools, paternal farms, holiday homes, junior republics, and farm cottage schools are in operation all over the country, and welcome co-operation. The utilizing of vacant lots is another excellent way of helping children. These lots may be used for free kindergartens, play-grounds, ball-grounds, and vegetable-patches ; for teaching nature study. The first step ‘is to visit real-estate agents and find out the loca- tion of vacant lots, securing a diagram of the exact dimensions and sites of the same. Sa. HE lots can then be inspected with a view to the proposed work. They accom- plish the most good in the very poorest neighborhoods, where co-operation is often | most active on the part of property-owners. | enclosed, It is wise to obtain, if possible, a lot already as fences are expensive. Many side windows in surrounding buildings are poms g especially if a play-ground or ball-ground is to be established. For either a free kindergarten or ball-ground, a lot one hundred by one hundred feet is most de- sirable. For vegetable-patches and play- grounds, more irregularly shaped sections of land will answer. After choosing a site and securing a diagram, the next thing is to obtain a — from the owner of the prop- erty. When the permit is received it is wise to at once visit the police department with the diagram, and ask for especial protection while the work is going on, as a as when the grounds are opened. An officer will be ordered to ‘“‘look in” occasionally, and any failure to do this should be reported at the nearest station-house. The condition of vacant city lots is such that a vigorous house -cleaning is necessary. Many con- tractors will donate labor and trucks for re- | moving the refuse that has accumulated. @n. Fok filling > irregular fom and ren- dering “ feed e ground” dry and firm no- thing is better than steam ashes. Sugar refineries and similar establishments will often cart the same to the lot for the sake of | getting rid of them. When the land is clean- ed and rolled it is ready for the ball-ground, with the exception of a shelter of some kind and a few benches. This shelter may con- sist of a frame with a rough board roof, or, better and more economical still, an old open street car, which almost any company will deliver free of charge. By taking out a few seats and bracing them against the fence benches are secured, and the car be comes an excellent shelter, as a table for books and magazines can be put in the va cant space. Care-takers will be needed for ball - grounds, play - grounds, and vegetable- patches. In engaging the same it is better to co-operate with some local mission or set- tlement, and in this way help both enter- prises. The usual is twenty-five or thirty dollars a month. Vegetable cas | y uire the preparation of the ground, seeds, gardening utensils. ELEN Jay. LADIES! Our SILK AND LAMB'S WOOL QUILTED VEST is the most useful article in a lady’s wardrobe. Tailor-made, in variety of shades and all sizes, with and without sleeves—light and warm. Can be worn over or under the dress—indispensable to those subject to colds. Please request your dry-goods dealer to send for sample line for your inspection, and we will forward without any cost of expressage. EXCELSIOR QUILTING | Co. 15 Laight Street YORK Every shade is numbered on the spool, ORDER BY NUMBER and match colors perfectly and promptly by using RICE’S SEWING SILK A child can get the new spool while you work. Saves time, trouble and vexation. TO INSURE A TRIAL of ite merits where dealers are not sup- plied. we will send a aa iy dy? OLD OSTRICH FEATHERS MADE NEW BY THE ADDITION OF NEW TOPS. A ialty made of dyeing, cleansing, and curl PRATHERS. Send for « - and he quailty ¢ walltag A 4. =| Un yr ‘vent “aurdor, sf Sak Temple P'.. Boston, Mass. or > PuteaaSentinGpows, JAPAN TE weed Tea ce. *. H. PRCKHAM, Sec’y, 2241 Kenmore Avenue, Chicago, Il. et et i en

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OCTOBER 7, 1890 RARITANIA- QS = oF '@ + @10/2'@' “ FULL-FASHIONED ® HOSIERY in*trate SxPices en a tog likes glove leaving as to fit the foot and leg like a glove, leaving no seams to annoy nor creases to blister. RARITANIA HOSIERY is ‘‘ Pull-Pashioned,"’ fine in texture, fast dyed, and strong, a ae: 5 to all who wear it, and costs no more than other hosiery of similar quality. All high-class dealers have it. Not sold at mill. Each package has a label bearing the word “ RARITANIA,” of which the heading of this advertisement is a facsimile. The name is also on each pair of hose NORFOLK & NEW BRUNSWICK HOSIERY CO., - New Brunswick, N. J.

HARPER’S BAZAR ¢ Cut Tissue-Paper Patterns beginning with the issue of December 31,1898, will be furnished at the uniform price of

Fine COMPLETE COSTUME, 50 Cents an - eh «a. . BP : GIRL’S COSTUME, - - 5 * ee WAIST, with sleeve, - - <« 25 “ as SRIRT, -----+-+-38 * “ No separate Sleeve Patterns sold. Patterns for adults in one size only— bust, 36; waist, 24; skirt, 42. Girls’ 4 patterns made in standard 13-year-old ° q size only. Money must acc ompany order. The best mus- . + Special Garments are furnished at special lin for pillow prices, as mentioned in acc ompanying list. slips and shams. in ordering Cut Patterns the use of the For sale by all leading following form is suggested. This will retailers. b

avoid error and facilitate the forwarding of the pattern. - PATTERNS IN THIS NUMBER .. 1899

Dear Sirs,— Please send me pattern, standard size as ad- vertised, published in HARPER’S BAZAR, of |

WAIST, No. SKIRT, No. CATALOGUE ULSTER, No, New York: { At Ly | COSTUME, No. Boston; 169 Tremont it Philadelphia: 924 Chestnut St. : GIRL’S COSTUME, No. . Re

for which I enclose ..cents, The Stallman Dresser Trunk is constructed on new princi) les Drawers instead of trays. A piace for everything and everything in ite place. The bottom as access ible as the top. Defies the bag gage smasher. Costs no more than & good bex trunk. Sent C. 0. D. with privilege of examnation Send 2c. stamp for illustrated cat alogue. F. A. STALLMAN, 59 W. Spring Mt., Colambas, 0. Name Address Cut Pattern P in this Numb and 1022, on page 836. 7

Nos. 207 Address HARPER & BROTHERS, publishers |

|

| |

CHICACO IN 24 HOURS HARPER’S BAZAR FALL AND WINTER FASH- IONS FOR CHILDREN HE dressing of young girls during the present season is very similar in char- acter to that of their mothers. Long lines, smooth fabrics, fanciful yoke shapes in bodices, and adeal of stitch- ing about the skirts and coats are the leading features in all of the new costumes for gen- eral wear. Plaids, which are essentially be- coming to youth, will be much in favor for entire garments, as well as for pipings, bands, yoke trimmings, and linings; and lace col- lars and collar-bands are to be worn with all of the new formal dresses. Taffeta yokes are among the most distinctively new forms, and these display great variety of tucks, puckered, stripes, and hem-stitching. Knife pleatings are among the favorite trimming schemes for bordering yokes. On another page of the Bazar is shown a variety of wraps and girls’ gowns, which reflect some of the best ideas in such garments. @n. EVEN figures comprise this group, which represents the latest designs in misses’ and girls’ costumes. The first of these is of royal- crimson serge, with white chemisette and col lar, the latter, like the gown, ornamented with narrow soutache braid, laid in double rows, the one of white and the other of black. The circular skirt, which is daily increasing in favor for little ones, is closed at the side (like the bodice), where it is ornamented with braid. This style of garment is designed for girls from six to fourteen years of age. Sa. HE second gown bas a gored skirt with circular lines like those of the preceding costume, but is of rich plaid. The round yoke is of tucked taffeta, with a bertha of plaid cut in scallops, and edged with puckered ribbon stitched down like small puffs. The collar is made with a stock of light silk, with scal- loped stitched band of plaid ornamenting the lower part. The bodice is slightly full in the front, but drawn straight to the waist band in the back. This garment is espe- cially pretty for slender girls, and the same ideas of outline would be most effective for rendering in delicate cashmeres or silks for party gowns. @n. IG. 3 illustrates a very pretty cadet-blue cashmere, suitable for a little maid of from eight to fourteen years. The square gathered yoke is of plaid silk set upon a neck-band of the cashmere, and outlined with square turned-back bretelles of same. These, with the collar, waistband, and sides of the bodice, are trimmed with blue silk braid of the narrowest width, twisted like a made gimp trimming. The vest seen in the lower part of the front of the bodice is of plain cashmere, and bodice and skirt close in the centre of the back. en. TYPICAL walking costume for young girls of from fourteen to sixteen years is made with a reefer and sheath skirt. The sleeve is set into the arm’s-eye as smoothly as the sleeve of a man’s coat. The gored skirt has a habit back and opens at the left front seam, where it is finished by grouped rows of stitching. The jacket is double- breasted, and has a snug turned-over collar | and scalloped lower edge, finished with rows of stitching. Such costumes are the “ stand- byes” of a girl's wardrobe, being as adaptable for late autumn as for spring wear, and rep resent real comfort during the sunnier win ter days. SA. F the three handsome coat effects shown, the first is of castor-colored kersey, with three shoulder-capes and collar orna mented with deep rows of stitching. Stitch- ed bands form the wrist trimming and waist band, all of which are finished with large pearl buttons. The centre cape, together with waist and wrist bands, are of deep cream kersey. The succeeding child’s coat, especially suitable for girls of from six to ten years, is of black velveteen. The design is a half-fitting double-breasted Gretchen, with small turn-down collar,and a cape with deep lace appliqué border. The cape is lined throughout with white silk, and buttoned with large pear! buttons. The cape is ad- justable, silk, with wide ribbon bow The small coat sleeves are deep rolled trimming of white silk. en HE golf cape-coat shown in the last figure of the group is a combination of ulster and golf cape, the two parts detachable, but designed to be worn together.. The under- coat is made with fitted back and wide double-breasted front, finished with big pear! buttons. The golf cape is made in two pieces, the lower part revealing the plaid, the upper showing the plain fabric the two are stitched together, a varicolored fringe is introduced. The high storm-collar and cape are stitched in one, the collar being seamed in the back. This combination gar ment is devised for school use for girls of from vet to fourteen years. tied in front. anc has separate collar of white | trimmed with | Where ' 863 Tailor-Made Suits O% of R new Fall and Winter Catalogue tailor - made tumes and clo now ready. We illu trate in nt all of the newest Paris styles, and will mail it free, together with samples of materials to select from, to the lady who wishes to dress well at moderate cost. We keep no ready -made garments, but make everything to order, thus giving that touch of individuality and exclusiveness so much Los aks is to be desirec Our new Fall and Winter Catalogue il lustrates a splendid assortment of suits and cloaks made according to fashion’s latest dictates. Charming Costumes and Tailor-Made Suits, fauitiess in cut and finish, $5 up. | Handsome Jackets, lined throughout, entirely | different from the ready-made ones, $5 up. Jaunty Capes, $4 up. | New Skirts, cut onang 7 the latest French models, $4 u Golf Capes, Newmarkets, Bicycle Suits, etc. We also make finer garments and send samples of all grades. We pay express charges everywhere Our line of samples includes the newest materials, many of them being exclusive novelties not shown elsewhere Be sure to say whether you wish samples for cloaks or for suits, and we will then be able to send you a full line of exactly what you desire. Write to-day for Catalogue and Samples; we will send them to you, /ree, by return mail. THE NATIONAL CLOAK COMPANY, | ‘ 119 and 121 West 23d St., New York. Noenol ConstablecKolo. Ladies’ and Children’s Furnishings.

Advance Styles in Ladies’ Silk Skirts,

| Flannel Kimonos, and Geisha Sacques, Underwear and Corsets. Infants’, Children’s and Misses’ and Dresses. Broadway A 1 91h st. NEW YORK ‘LADIES’ DRESS SKIRTS $A. VALUE $7.00 This charming Dress Skirt, New Princess Back, stitched down front, is made of best qual ity cheviot and homespun, in light, medium, and Oxford gray and black, and lined with best qual ity percaline Coats, Capes Order promptly, as it cannot be dupli cated.

When ordering skirt give waist and hip measure and length in front. t®” It is as easy to buy Dry-Goods from us—a thousand miles away—as if you were in New York ; we are used to it, and will tell you about it if you se nd for one of our new Catalogues of Fall and Winter Dry-Goods—F REE, Le Boutillier Brothers, — ve" Kindly mention BAZAR This Trade Mark } The ‘* Princess.’’ Established 1840. oo

CANFIELD / DRESS SHIELD, Ask for and insist on nestan y Cantield Shiels,

BY THE N —LAKE SH We OR, CENTRAL,

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“ W'at's dat noise ?” THE BRIGHT SIDE. “ Tuenr's one beauty in livin’ in a small town,” said the Kohack philosopher, “and that is that your feller-citizens will sympathize with you in your trouble. And if you haven't got any trouble—' The old fellow clambered to bis feet, and spoke the completion of the sentence over his ‘shoulder as he doddered off toward home. “theyll tarn in and hunt up some for ye !” i Mas. Vaw Swamp. ther chill coming on, rattle in your hand? much !" “ William dear, as you have an- will you kindly hold the baby's It amuses the sweet precious so Sl “ Wh-—who's dar?” A LATE A USELESS EXPENDITURE. “Pur’z I can see,” sarcastically mused honest Farmer Bentback, caressing hie ginger-hued neck whiskers with one toil-hardened claw, ‘my son Roy don't ‘pear to have learned a b'darned thing at college but jest an idiotic yell. When I think of the mone it’s cost me to keep him in that institootion of learnin’, and the days fall of labor and the nights full of achin’ bones that it took me to accumulate them dollars, I wonder if that 'ere yell hasn't co#t considerable more than it is worth, especially when I consider that it's probable I could have at any time got jest as loud and far-reachin’ a yell by wrappin’ an old-fashioned gad around him a few dozen times, aud mebby licked some sense into bim at the same time.’ rHE ORIGINAL AN UNHAPPY REALIZATION. It's over now, and Dewey's back We've cheered until our throats did crack ; We've yelled our faces fairly black. We've flung our bunting here and there, We've worn gay ribbons in our hair, And put inscriptions everywhere We've set off guns, and set up food Fur an enormons multitude— The rich, the poor, polite and rude. We've beaten drums and squenked the fife, We've filled our trumpets fall of life, And joy has driven ont all strife. We've whooped and howled upon the mart, Stuck up an arch chock-full of art That filled with awe each swelling beart. We've made the Hero feel that he Was welcome from the distant sea In all his glorions majesty But now it’s over! Dewey's back! We've had onr flare, we've had our whack. And now what next? Alas! Alack! How flat our days! How flat and stale, With nothing more that we can hail With glad acclaim on splendid scale! The curtain’s down. The play i* through. There's nothing more that we can do. There's nothing to look forward to. ——= The ne® captain of volunteers followed with eager eyes the flight of the shell which his company had jnet fired Je saw that it would inevitably descend upon the little group of Filipinos, and the old in- «tinet overcame him, “ Fore !” he yelled, frantically. ——— Teaours (reading). ‘‘* Bach knight was pene nied by his equire, who carried his lance and shield.’ Can any one in the clase tell me what a equire wae?” Was Lonas. “ A caddie, ma'am.” ——~_—— Puvarotan (giving advice). “ Lastly, MeGorry, don't go to sleep on an empty stomach.” MoGounry (who is ailing) “No danger av thot, doc- thor; ol always slape on me back.” HORSELESS CARRIAGE. THE LAST STRAW. The two-year-old pride of the family had been raising Cain in the most approved manner. Ever since hiv mother’s friend had called he had occupied the calcium and tormented them to the limit of haman endurance. And all the while the young mother had looked as if she was proud of him, and as if «he had nothing to complain of. She spoke of bie little peccadilloes ax if they were simply conning tricks, and resorted to all the subterfages peculiar to young mothers who try to imprese their nnmarried friends with their happiness. While he «mashed the bric-a-brac, she langhed ; while he tore to pieces the flowers in the jardiniére, she com- mented on his growing taste for botany ; and while he wrecked a portfolio of valuable prints, she dwelt on the possibility of his becoming a great artist. But finally he seemed to exhaust his capacity for destrne- tion and sat quietly in a corner. At that moment his worn and wearied mother burst into tears. “Why, what is the matter?” asked her visiting friend. “Oh, it is that haby I" “ What is the matter with him _ * Don’t you see how quiet he is 7” “Of course I do; but I shonld think you would be thankful for that.” “Oh, bat you doen't know him,” said the young and wearied mother. “He is just sitting there ——- up some kind of mischief that he hasn't tried yet, an that is what breake my heart.” —— -- Night had dawned. The soft music of the ball-room had penetrated to the 4 omy upoo which two girls were sitting. allo, Molly !" said one. “ Hullo, Polly!" said the other. “ Beautiful night,” said the first. “Splendid,” said the second. “Something lacking, though,” said the first. “ Something,” acquiesced the second. “T'd like a lemonade,” aid the first. “So wonld I,” eaid the second. “ Bat—” said the first. “ There’s nobody to pay for it,” said the second. And they both sigh The summer girl is, after all, not devoid of goc business qualities. ——— Little Ethel came home radiant from the children's party, where her chief pleasure had been trying to dance the Virginia reel. “So you liked it, dear?” said her mamm “ Yes, indeed,” re rtied the little girl, «especially dancing the ginger ale. —_——- Prawors (aged four. after counting up ). “There, I've counted up to a frillion, and I thick n etc . (aged five, in a auperior tone). “Tt ien’t a frillion, Frances; it’s a ‘scillion ’ you counted to. You ought to know better than that.” CALLER. MR. PECK'S TRIUMPH. Mr. Peck sat on the saw-horse behind his wood- shed, apologetically gazing into vacane y- We sa apologetically, for everything Mr. Peck did was apol- ogetic. His expression, his attitude, his hair, even the spectacles hesitatingly perched on his nose, all seemed to be timidly seeking a good excuse for existing. He had jast returned from the village “general store,” where he had been sent by his better “ seven- eighths” to purchase some sticky fly-paper. Sheets of this commodity being sold in sets of two, the ad- hesive surfaces of which were together, Mr. Peck had slowly separated them and spread them ow the long bench against the wood-shed wal] behind him. Now, in bis asual absent-minded way, he was bliss- fully dreaming of lands where gardens weeded them- selves, tobacco was free and plentiful, and wives were forever dumb. From this Utopia he was recalled by Mra. Peck, who rustied around the corner of the shed arrayed in the glory of her “meet'n’ clothes”—black alpaca gown and all. * Yes,” she raeped; “I cal’lated here’s where you'd be. Did any woman ever have such a shif'less, good- fer-nothin’ man? Where's that fly-paper I told you ter git me more’n a ha'f-hour ago? Here's me up ter my eyes in work, the minister comin’ ter supper, the parlor full er flies, and you settin’ here doin’ nawthin’ instead er goin’ my errands. Oh, land er goodness! what have | done that I should have ter put up with such a critter as you be 7” Here Mrs. Peck's feelings overcame ber and she sank despairingly on the end of the bench. “Why, Betsy,” drawled her husband, pleadingly, “I got yer paper fer yer! There ‘tis right side of yer on the bench, I was jest goin’ ter bring it in when yer come out here.” ** Jest goin’ ter I” eneered Mra. Peck, very little mollified. “It’s a mercy yer done the errand at all! Yes, and yer didn’t do it straight. I sent yer fer six sheets, and here's only five. Heavens alive! I'd sooner send a baby ter the store! Why didn’t yer git six, yer gump?’ “1 ewan I thought I did git six, Betay! sure I did. I don't see how— “Ob, do be quiet! Yer must ’a’ got six, ‘canse they come in pairs. Have yer eat the other one, er what? 1 spose yer lost it somehow er ‘nother. Well! what are yer starin’ at me so fer? What have yer done with that other sheet er fly-pnper—swallered it?” A light broke in on Mr. Peck’s brain. The sense of injustice done bim served to raise his feeble spirit. ou’re settin’ on it!" he yelled, Jor Lanconn, —_—a—_ I was reel Tom (to his quest). Jim. * Tom Jim. “ I've got a goat.” ‘Pr ve got twenty.’ * Where do you keep * em ? ?’ **In me father’s office.” Tom. “ What for?” Jim. “Cause they're all sick.” Tom (who had lately been up the Hudson). “ I've seen Anthony’ « Nose.” Jum. **Um! I've seen all of him.” Tom's Mamma (entering as Jim! have you ever beard of Ananias and § Sapphira 7 Jim. “I know ’ em." Mamma, “ They were siragk dead for lying.” Jim. “Saw them strack.’ Mama. “And they probably went to the dickens.” Jim. “Saw ‘em go.” _——— Januens. “I tell you, old man, it's a terrible thing when your wife quarrels with her mother, and the old ney lives with you. Which side do you take?” Havees. “Neither. I preserve an alarmed neu- trality.” “It’s me, honey.” THE GREAT DESIDERATA. “The Genivs of Liberty,” said the editor of that newspaper, who was giving instructions to a newly eng reporter, * prints facts, and facts only. The motto under which all our men work is, ‘ Facts, and More Facts.’ Remember that, Mr. Figgs. Your first assignment will be to report the Brigge-Simpeon wed- ding, at the Church of the Extended’ nvocation. You have just about time to get there and note the decora- tions before the ceremony commences.” “ Yes, sir,” said Mr. as he pat hie note-book and several pencils in his pocket and left the room. About an hour afterward the editor of the Geniua of Liberty wae observed to slam a bunch of manuscript down on his desk real bard, and then he said to the office-boy, in a voice which he strove hard to control, =e Mr. Figgs that I wish to see him immediately.” Mr. Figgs came. “Did you write this?” demanded the editor, indi- cating the manuscript by a backward flip of the thumb of his right hand. Mr. Figgs recognized his own handwriting, and ad- mitted that he had written it “You don't drink to excess, Mr. Figge ?” “No, sir; I don't drink at all.” “ Are there symptoms of insanity In any members of your family 7” Mr. Figgs replied in the negative. “ Under there circumstances, then, Mr. Figgs, 1 am utterly at a loss to understand how you came to tarn in an account of a wedding such as I have here.” * What is the matter with it, sir?” asked Mr. Figge, who knew not in what he had offended. “ Matter with it?” repeated the editor, “I'll read a | ~e of it to you: ‘The marriage of Mies Adelina impeon to Mr. “yen 4 Briggs was solemnized lart night at the Church of the Extended Invocation. The Rev. Dr. Thirdly read the beautiful and impressive service." That's all right eo far. I'll ekip the pre- liminaries. Let's wee! Yes, here it is: ‘The bride ix only nineteen years of age, as the reporter ascertained by asking her parents, but the age of the groom is placed at forty-six by thore who know him best. As the wedded pair passed down the aisle after the cere- mony. the disparity between their ages was noticeable to all, and remarks similar to the following were heard on all sides: “ Why, he’s as bald as a billiard-ball,”’ “He's old enough to be her father,” “She's to be an old man's darling,” and “ How mach did she sell her- self for?” ’ The editor stopped reading and looked at the reporter. “Now, Mr. Figgs, I'd like to know what excuse you bad for this, and a good deal more in the same strain.” “ Your own instroctions, sir.” “My own instructions 7” gasped the editor. * Yea, sir, You told me to get facts and more facts, and I got them.” “ Well, Mr. Figgas, yon are too literal, but as this ix your first offence Tl "il give you another trial Rewrite this article, and bear in mind that while it is the province of a newspaper to collect all the facts, it is also ite province to suppress discreetly some of the facts.” Wintiam Heney Srverer, qqusan@jpames “T presume,” said the relative who had removed to the city long years before, and was now revisiting the old home neighborhood, “that that worthless Jim Doolittle went to the dogs long age?” “Waal,” replied honest Uncle Ezra, dryly, “I 8’ pore Jim done his part, but I'm kinder of the opin- jon that the dogs, not appreciatin’ his company, ran away before he could get to ‘em. ——— Mr, Povsnarren. “ Why, I thought that Miss Boggs was a blonde!” Mes. Popsenarrer. *‘ She was, but she reformed.” 4 Z 4 2 4 3 Zz 4s WITH THE WORKERS. THE BROOM CROP IS UNUSUALLY FINE THIS SEASON,

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SUPPLEMENT TO “HARPER’S BAZAR,” OCTOBER 7, 1899 LATE PARIS TAILOR COSTUME. ‘* HARPER'S BAZAR,” SEPTEMBER 23, 1899. “HARPER’S BAZAR” CUT PAPER PATTERNS

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+ ’ 2 Supptement To HARPER’S BAZAR, Ocroser 7, 1899 oe a ee ee ae . nena MODEL CLOTH COSTUMI GOWN FOR YOUNG MATRON, PLAID AND PLAIN CLOTH SPRING WALKING COSTUME, . Hsnren's Bazan, J y 28, 1899 Hanren'’s Bazan, January 28, 1899. AFTERNOON GOWN. Harree’s Bazan, February 4, 1899. Harrenr’s Bazan, February 4, 1899 NEW HICYCLE COSTUME MODEL GORED SKIRT SHIRT-WAIST AND HABIT SKIRT. SILVER-GRAY VISITING GOWN. Iivuren's Bazan, | jury 11, 1s0¥ Hanrer’s Bazan, February 11, 1899 Hagrer'’s Bazan, February 18, 1899. Hanrre’s Bazan, February 18, 1899. WALKING OR GOLF CAPR BEIGE WALKING COSTUME. BISCUIT-COLORED CLOTH WALK- LACE AND VEILING COSTUME. Hauren’s Bazan, February 25, 1999 Hauree’s Bazan, February 25, 1899. ING COSTUME. Hanren’s Bazan, March 4, 1899 Hagrer’s Bazan, March 4, 1899.

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Supptement To HARPER’S BAZAR, Ocroner 7, 1899 — aig Reames oa a Be ees ee ee | a La BEIGE WALKING COSTUME. BISCUIT-COLORED CLOTH WALK- LACE AND VEILING COSTUME. FRENCH FLANNEL BODICE AND Hauren’s Bazan, February 25, 1899. ING COSTUME. Harper's Bazan, March 4, 1899. SKIRT. Hagrgr’s Bazan, March 4, 1899. Haxrer’s Bazan, March 11, 1899. Pe ee | } BLUE NUNS’ VEILING SPRING COSTUME BLUE AND WHITE PIQUE COSTUME. FIGURED ORGANDIE SUMMER GOWN YOUNG LADY'S GOLF CAPE. Harper's Bazan, March 11, 1899. Hazrer’s Bazagz, March 18, 1899. Harper's Bazar, March 18, 1899. Harper's Bazan, March 25, 1899 ee ee ii _ cael - | | | | | | | —_ inti ~ Benin a | Ee aon ee si GINGHAM COSTUME WITH SIMULATED NEW GOLFING SUIT. BEIGE CLOTH AND PLAID WALKING GALATEA YACHTING SUIT. OVER-DRESS. Hagrer's Bazas, April 1, 1899. COSTUME, Hagrer’s Bazar, April 1, 1899. Hagren's Bazan, March 25, 1899. Hagree’s Bazan, April 1, 1999. DROP

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SUPPLEMENT TO H A R P ER - B A Z A R, OCTOBER 7, 1899 PINK AND WHITE OUTING COSTUME RED CLOTH JACKET DOUBLE-SKIRTED FOULARD GOWN WEDGWOOOD BLUE GIRL’S GOWN. IHauren’s Bazan, April 8, 1899 Harrgr’s Bazan, April 8, 1899 Harren's Bazan, April 15, 1899. Haurer’s Bazan, April 22, 1899. | Sectal - —_ oe FIGURED DIMITY SUMMER GOWN PARIS SHIRT-WAIST OF NAINSOOK GOWN OF BRIGHT RED GALATEA SUITING BIAS MADRAS SHIRT-WAIST Hanrea'’s Bazan, April 22, 1800 Harree'’s Bazan, April 22, 1999. Hanren's Bazan, April 29, 1899. Hagrer’s Bazan, April 29, 1809 aa? 7 ‘i = = "Lae t 4 ‘ — NEW BELL-GORE SKIRT. VEILING AND SILK MATINEE. GIRL’S COSTUME IN OLD-ROSE LINEN. GIRL’S ORGANDIE GOWN WITH Haeren's Bazan, May 6, 1899. Haaren's Bazan, May 6, 1899. Haneren'’s Bazan, April 29, 1899. GORED SKIRT. Hagren’s Bazar, May 6, 1899.

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Supptement TO HARPER’S BAZAR, Ocroser 7, 1899 5 h iy 7 if ‘a ' | TRAVELLING OR DUST CLOAK. TUXEDO SHIRT-WAIST. WALKING GOWN OF HOP-SACKING PALE GREEN VEILING HOME GOWN. ' Hanrer’s Bazan, May 13, 1899. Harrzr’s Bazan. May 13, 1899. AND FOULARD. Hanrver’s Bazan, May 20, 1899. Harrer’s Bazan, May 2, 1899. F 7 : | : t : MODIFIED SAILOR GOWN. PALE GREEN DOTTED LINON GOWN. RED AND WHITE SERGE BATHING SUIT. LITTLE GIRL’S WHITE SERGE : Harper's Bazan, May 20, 1899. Haxper’s Bazan, May 27, 1899. Haxrer’s Bazan, May 27, 1899. BATHING SUIT. : Hanrer’s Bazar, May 27, 1899. ee a OE ls EO — = ee eer ot ET ERE ee oe MIDSUMMER GOWN OF ORGANDIE. CUECKED GINGHAM AFTERNOON GOWN. GIRL’S LIGHT-WEIGHT NEWPORT PARIS MIDSUMMER WALKING COSTUME Hagren’s Bazar, June 3, 1899. Harper's Bazan, June 8, 1899. JACKET. Hagrer’s Bazar, June 3, 1899. Harper's Bazan, June 8, 1999.

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6 Supptement 70 HARPER’S BAZAR, Ocroser 7, 1899 PINK SILK WAIST AND WHITE SERGE BLUE AND WHITE DOTTED BATISTE GIRL’S TUCKED ORGANDIE GOWN BROWN LINEN GOWN FOR AFTERNOON SKIRT GOWN. Hanren’s Bazan, June 10, 1899, USE. Hauren’s Bazan, June 10, 1899. Hanrver’s Bazan, June 10, 1899. Harren’s Bazan, June 17, 1899. EARLY SUMMER OUTING GOWN GIRL’S DOTTED LAWN GOWN FUSTIAN WALKING GOWN, LAWN OR INDIA SILK KIMONO. Hanren'’s Bazan, Jon Hanren's Bazan, June 24, 1899 17, 1899. Hanrrn’s Bazan, June 17, 1899 Hanrenr’s Bazan, Jane 2, 1899. GIRL'S SHIRT-WAIST AND CIRCULAR SKIRT Hanren’s Bazan, June &, 1899. BATH OR LOUNGING ROBE oF TURKISH TOWELLING Haeren'’s Bazan, July |, 1999. SUMMER SILK BLOUSE JACKET. Hanren's Bazan, July 1, 1999. BLUE LINEN GOWN FOR YOUNG GIRL. Hagren’s Bazan, July 1, 1899.

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Supptement To HARPER’S BAZAR, Ocroner 7, 1899 OLD-RED CRRPE DE CHINE GOWN. Hauren’s Bazan, August 19, 1899. GALATEA GOWN FOR GIRL Hanrer’s Bazan, July 8, 1899. TUCKED VEILING COSTUME. Haxrrn’s Bazan, July 15, 1899. KILT SKIRT AND JACKET. Hauren’s Bazan, July 15, 1899. COSTUME WITH SLASHED OVER-DRESS Harren’s Bazan, July 15, 1899. LINEN OR CLOTH COSTUME. Harrer’s Bazar, July 15, 1899. GIRL’S SKIRT WITH SHOULDER-STRAPS. Harrre’s Bazan, July 22, 1899. NEW FRENCH CORSET COVER. Hanren's Bazar, July 22, 1899. WALKING GOWN, ECRU VEILING. Harren's Bazaz, July 22, 1899. KILT SKIRT AND BOX-COAT. Hagrer's Bazar, July 29, 1899. CHECKED CLOTH GOWN, Harree’s Bazar, July 29, 1899, LEAF-GREEN CLOTH GOWN. Hasrer’s Bazar, July 29, 1899.

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AUTUMN ANNOUNCEMENT Chis Supplement of Cut Paper Pattern Designs is presented to the readers of HARPER’S BAZAR as a general reply to the many requests that reach our office daily for a convenient Catalogue. It will facilitate the selection of Patterns by intending purchasers. WOMEN’S PATTERNS. Mone: Cron Cosrome, No. 199.—A design suitable for perfectly plain cloth gown. Designed as model for lining pattern for all Bazan patterns that include circular ekirts, and for all bodices that require lining. To make a plain costume like illnstration,5 yards of cloth 54 inches wide will be required. Gown ror Youre Matson, No. 140.—This model is intended for a variety of in-door purposes, and may serve as tea gown, brenk fast or invalid’* gown, according to method of trimming. If rendered in silk, 15 yards 22 inches wide will be required ; if in veiling or cashmere, 7 yards 44 inches wide will be sufficient Piaixn axp Pram Crcru Arrennoon Gown, No, 141.—An effective peplam costame,with a circular skirt (not sheath), with a wide- vested bodice, and shapely sleeves, A pretty model for silks or materials of plain color, with sult vests of contrasting shades, Requires 44g yards of plain and 8% yards of plaid material 54 inches wide to make as illustrated Sruise Warxine Costume, No. 148,—Ilas a rounded tunic and soft blouse-shaped bodice over an effective vest. Five yards of dark and 24g yards of cloth 54 inches wide New litovore Coserumn, No. 144.—An exclusive and fushionable ont- ing costame that has met with much favor. Hae slight inward- turuing pleats in centre of back, which is strapped; 43g yards of reversible cloth 54 inches wide required for making. Moves Goren Sait, No. 145.—Designed eepecially for those who pre- fer the gored skirt lines. This pattern Is for a seven-gored gar- ment made upon a circular model, with slight fulness in centre of back ; 5 yards of material 20 Inches wide will be required for inter- preting this pattern Suier-w are, No. 146.—One of our mort enccessful models. Suitable for treatment in light flannels, wash siiks, or wash goods. Back has narrow box-pleats on each side of centre. Requires 4 yards of matertal 20 juches wide Haury Sxiet, No, 147.—A design that has met with universal favor. Most simple to make, and unusually graceful. May be made with or without centre back seam. Opens on left side of front; 43g yards material 44 luches wide required Sicven-oenay Vierrmne Gowns, Sater, No. 198, Waur No. 148.—A charming and altogether success{ul model. Peplum opens in back. Modelied on circular skirt lines. Bodice has seamless back. Sleeves conform to arm, with lines for tacks, The costame will require 53g yards of material 54 inches if made with sham ekirt W atures on Gower Care, No. 149.—Has flaring ruffle and pretty hood. Requires 2 yards of material 54 inches wide. Briere Watxine Costume, No. 150.—A very pretty draped skirt dis- tinguishes this cosiame, the draping of the bodice of which hae a jabot effect. The circular skirt is slightly fall at the centre of the back. Bodice has plain stretched back, and sleeves are of medium fulnews. Six yards of material 54 inches wide will be required to make costume like illastration. Bisovrt-coronry Watxtne Costume, No. 151.—Very effective design for cloth gowns, Flaring circular skirt, stitched. Very shapely jacket, and one which is especially available for narrow velvet or fur trimmings. Requires 634 yards of material 50 inches wide. Laon any Veitine Costeme, No, 152.—This costume shows a very suit- able design for in-dvoor or visiting purposes, and would lend itself admirably to use for a dinner gown.. The slashed skirt is well hung, add preseuts no difficulties to the home gownmaker. Of any wile width soft material 45 inches wide, the costume will re- quire Tig yards. Faenou Frasxet Bomon, No, 158.—This is an exceptionally practical and easily mide garment especially suitable for autumn and spring use, itis cut mpon very graceful lines. The collar and caffs are closely stitched, and the tolds being applied flat, obviates the pos- sibility of a bulky appearance below the waist Daov Skier, No. 154.—A model which is sure to meet with apprecia- tion, as it provides a perfect patiern for the drop silk skirts that must be renewed from time to time in all modern gowns. Bivw New's Vestine Cosreme, No. 158.—A charming model now in favor in Paris Pattern complete includes graded folds that form the cuirasee, and the short bolero that fastens at the left side. The costume is altogether fashionable, and requires but 7 yards of materia! 45 inches wide, aud 4 yards of taffeta for folds, Bive any Wurre Piqué Costome, No. 156.—The simple elegance of this costume has given it continaal approbation, The skirt is a circular, with a flat applied ruffle. Sleeves of the plain coat variety, with applied pointed cuff. The pattern includes form for chemi- sette and high collar. Requires 8 yards of 44-inch goods for making. Fievecy Oncanvin Gown, No. 157,—A dainty and altogether effective costume, which, rendered in flowered silk, in crépe or veiling, would prove very desirable for simple at-home or evening gowns. Of silk (with ribbon ruffles), 12 yards would be ample. Where ma- terials are used for ruffling, allowances should be made extra. This skirt has five gores Youre Lavy's Gore Cara, No, 158.—A popolar cape containing a full hood and wide revers. Designed to be made of a Scotch rug. Where wide, two-toned cloth 54 inches wide is employed it will require 2h yarda. Gown wera Simutaten Ovexwpeess, No. 159.—A graceful costume with peplam lines without the bulkiness of a double skirt. The bodice is an effective model for separate silk waist or fancy cloth costume. If costume be treated in cloth throughout, added rich- ness in appearance will be gained by making the hem of simu lated over-dress an inch deeper than the pattern provides for. To make this costame of material 24 inches wide 12 yards will be re- quired. If of cloth 64 inches wide, 6 yards will suffice. New Go.rine Sett, No, 160.—A costume that includes a late and jounty goll jacket, and a ekirt that meets with general approval. The «kirt ie circular, with ample flare at fvot, and may be opened in centre of back or under a flap at left side of front. Quantity of material 54 tnches wide required for skirt (if of plain goods), 8 yards; if of plaid, 44g yards required (to allow for the matching of patiern); aud Ig yards of material for jacket. Bain Currn Watnine Gown, No, 161.—Iles fancy croseed vest, and bodice with colrasee effect. Back of bodice hae a centre seam only. Sleeve in four divisions; may be converted into elbow length. Costume equally appropriate for carringe, dinner, or vie- iting gown. Bedlee to be made over model waist lining No. 139, Suitable for light cloths, cheviota, cashmeres, combined with laces or contrasting silks, Kequires 8 yards of material 44 inches wide, and 8 yards of silk of ordinary width. Yaoutine Serr, No. 168.—Comprises a three-quarter tight jacket with eary sieeve, flaring-shaped cuff, and circular skirt, with simulated peplom. Skirt has two inward-tarning pleats in centre of back. Costume adaptable for emooth-sarfaced cloths. Quantity of mate- rial required, Tig yards 50 inches wide. Rep Cron Jsoxet, No, 163.—Three-quarter tight jacket with high collar and rounded scalloped edges. Shapely sleeves fitting close about the wrist. Suitable for any heavy cloth, Of cloaking or other heavy fabric 54 inches wide, 1% yards will be required. Ovtine Co#remn, No. 164.—Has a belted Eton with wide flaring col- N. B.—In ordering Cut Paper Patterns, the use of the Regular Order Form is advised in all cases. issue of the BAZAR. Address all communications to lar, emall sleeve with pointed flaring cuff. Back of bodice is seam- less. Pattern of tie accompanies that of bodice. The skirt is a cirenlar, with slight fulness in centre of back. Effective design for flannel, Henrietta cloth, cashmere, or black silk. Quantity of material required, 6 yarde 54 inches wide. Dovstr-skieten Fouran» Gown, No. 165.—Suitable for interpreta- tion in light siiks for evening or reception gowns, and highly ef- fective fur treatment in lustreas black silk and jet, or for mourn- ing fabrics. Skirt has sheath effect, with slight falness in centre of back. Requires 8 yards of double-width material, or 12 yards of material 20 inches wide. Frevee» Dimitry Gown, No. 167.—Most suitable for organdies, flow- ered taffetas, or other fancy evening materials. Can be made low- necked or high, as desired. las long mousquetaire sleeves, and graceful five-gored skirt, with peplum. Requires 15 yards of ma- terial 27 inches wide, or 10 yards of silk of ordinary width, Panis Suimt-watst, No. 168.—Represents a tucked shirt-waist with pointed yoke and vertically tucked sleeves. Suitable for thin silks, veilings, or lawns. Material required, 8 yards 30 inches wide, or 4 yards of narrow silk, and one-half yard of embroidery or all- over tucking for yoke. Bareur Rev Gatatea Gown, No. 169.—Skirt with 5 gores and flat scalloped ruffles, sight train. Waist has French back and very slight blouse front. Very simple to make, and fashionable when completed. Will require 9 yards of wide-width material, or 15 yards of goods 24 to 30 inches wide. Bias Mapnas Suiut-waist, No. 170.—Scalloped back yoke, with slight fulness below. Sleeve bas gathers at cuff. Front in clustered tucks over shoulder, fulness below gathered into waiet-line. Es- pecially artistic model for bias treatment of stripes, but design a practical one for light French flanue!l, flowered or plain. Re- quires 4 yarde of material 27 juches wide. New Bews-eoex Skier, No, 171.—An altogether exclusive and effective treatment of the gore skirt, suitable fur narrow-width fabrics. Skirt has a good flure at foot. Suitable for broadcloth, cheviot, or serge. Requires 344 yards of double-width goods, 7 yards of 37-inch, or 83g yards of narrow material, silk width. Matinée Vestine, any Stix, No. 173.—Has Wattean back, no yoke, short tucked elbow sleever, and soft vest. Equally suitable for veiling, crépe, or silk, Of the former, 2) yards will be required for making, with the addition of three-quarters of a yard of China silk for vest. Trave tive on Dust Croax, No. 174.—A model most useful for cloth or regular cloaking, and one that is likely to be fashionable for winter use. Lends itself to far trimmings or heavy braids, and is particularly well modelled. Quantity of material required, 6 yards 54 inches wide. Texepo Suimt-warst, No. 175.—Back and front yoke with pleated lower body, turned-back cuff, and easy sleeve. Suitable for silk or light wool fabrics if treated with yoke trimming. Requires 4 yards of French flanvel 30 inches wide. Watxine Gowns, No. 176.—Seamless back, Eton jacket effect, with un- der-arm gore. Sheath siveves and skirt, the latter perforated to show position of ruffles. Model suitable for satin-fluished black or colored cloth, of which 6 yards will be required to make. Pause Gueew Home Gown, No. 1T7.—Mode! suitable for veiling, silke, or cashmerer. Seamless back, tucked horizontally like front; lower part stretched to side seam. Tucked sleeves. The skirt ornamented with fitted folds and deep flounce. Collar opens at side of front. Kequires.9 yards of material 44 inches wide. Pate Guexw Linon Gown, No. 178.—A moet effective plan for evening gowns done in tuffetas, veilings, or light silks. Skirt a sheath. Sleeves tight. Cuirasse stretched, and pattern is perforated to show lines for placing of ruffles. Pattern includes shapes of ruf- fies. Sixteen yards of narrow silk-width goods required tor making. Senex Batuine Surt, No, 179.—Suitable in every way for ure in gym- nasiam, Modelled upon latest lines. Skirt has pleated centre of back, strapped, and wide sailor collar. Kequires 6 yards of serge 44 inches wide for making (knickerbockers included). Dianee Gowns, No, 180.— Back of bodice corresponds with front. Skirt in three pieces, with slight fulness at centre of back. Elbow mousquetaire siceves, with shaped flounces. Over-dress flounced. Nine-inch flounce on skirt. For details see Bazan, June 3. Suita- ble for crépe, India silks, Liberty masiins, etc. Sixteen yards of material 27 inches wide will be reqaired for rendering as in il- lustration Watxive Covrume, No. 181 —A design suitable for treatment in any light or gauzy fabric, and altogether appropriate for evening or afternoon use. Skirt five-gored, with circular form. Baby waist, shirred sleeves. Will require 14 yards of material 27 inches wide. Cuscxenv Artrenznoon Gown, No, 182 —Has a flounced skirt that still continues in great favor, and is altogether graceful. The upper skirt is in 8 pieces. The ruffle is applied flat. Collar opens in V at back to correspond with front. Medium coat sleeve. Of ma- terial 20 inches wide, 14 yards will be required. Of goods 54 inches wide, 545 yards. Suret-waist Parrean, No. 183.—Designed for use in light taffetas ; has an upward-pointed yoke, with gathers meeting the centre point. Modified shirt-waist sleeve. Slightly full in cuff; 4 yards of silk 22 inches wide required for making. Senex Skint, No. 184.—In two parts, with seam in centre of back and of front. May be effectively treated if made to lap in front, clos- ing ander a series of buttons. .Suitable for cloth or silk. Requires 8% yards of material 45 inches wide. Dorren Batisrx Gown, No. 185.—Has a shield front bodice opening over V chemisette, plain French back, tight-fitting sleeves. Skirt is founced and draped with a graceful peplam, which meets the panel front. The long lines of this costume recommend its effec- tive treatment in silk, satin, or lustrons cloth. Quantity of mate- rial 54 inches wide, 7 yards; of silk 20 inches wide, 16 yards. Brows Lanan Gown, No. 186.—Snitable for treatment in cloths, silks, or cashmere. Bodice has seamed back, shield front, and sheath sleeves. The skirt is a circular, but laps to left side of front, Re- quires 8 yards of material 45 to 50 inches wide. Ovtine Gown, No. 187.--Consists of plain narrow circular skirt with scalloped bands, pattern of which accompanies costume pattern, and handsome double-breasted walking jacket with wide scalloped evliar. Sleeve has slight gathered fulness over shoulder. Model exceedingly handsome for plain cloths, of which fabric 54 inches wide, 5 yards wil! be required for the makiug. Foersan Watxine Gown, No. 188. —The Eton jacket is an admirable design for treatment in Persian jamb, astrakhan, and heavy cloth. Skirt, a sheath, is denbie, the peplam scalloped so as to drape over scalloped ruffles on under-skirt. Design very effective in camel’s-hair, cheviot, or faced-cloth. Requires 73g yards of mate- rial 45 to 50 inches wide. Inpia Stix Kimono, No. 189.—A handsome negligee which may be made to serve the purpose of a winter morning by introducing a lining of thin flannel. One of our most popular designs. Materi- als required, 2 yards of plain and 2 of fancy-figured goods 27 to 30 inches wide. Lounaine Rows, No. 190.—Adaptable for batistes, nainsooks, thin or lined silks, or crépes ; has slight Watteau pleat in centre of back, and pattern provides for 6-inch train. Requires 9 yards of ma- terial 27 inches wide. Six Biovss Jacket, No. 191.—Has general form of skirted Russian blonse. Back leas, sleeves medi size ; of materia) 20 inches wide, 5 yards will be enfficient for the making. Gryeuam Home Gown, No. 192.—Expecially desirable for large figures. Has a double box-pleated back suspended from graceful yoke. Equally suitable for cashmeres, light French flannels, etc. Of ma- terin] 27-80 inches wide, 14 yards will be required. Tooke Vettine Costume, No, 198.—A charming design for eatin-faced light-weight cloth, black silk, or any of the prevailing fine dress materials practically self-trimmed. Made with sham ekirt; 10 yards of material 44 inches wide required for this costume. Baown Linen Gown, No. 194.—Effective scalloped peplam and Eton jacket, with seamed jacket back. Easy sleeve form. Handsome design tor black cloth and asirakhan. The fall circular skirt trains slightly; 14 yards of 30-inch or 9 yards of 54-inch goods re- quired for this costume. Warkie Deess wrru Stasuep Over-peese, No, 195.—A costume at once youthfol, fashionable, and dignified. Lends itself to treat- ment in variety of cloths. Skirt a tight sheath, bodice with stretched seamless back, Lining, as usual, made on model waist No. 139. Watxine Gown, Boru Vertine, No. 196.—Most exclusive and fashion- able Parisian design. Pattern allows for and indicates tacks; sleeves en forme ; skirt a tight sheath, 10-inch train; peplom and shaped flounce. Exceedingly chic, and suitable for carriage, walking, or visiting purposes. Wil! require 10 yards of material 44 inches wide, and 14 yards of taffeta if lined with silk. Fuenou Corset Coven, No. 197.—One of the most useful of garments; from French model; entirely does away with bulky waist-line; extremely simple to make. Pattern in two pieces, and requires bat 1 yard of linen or cambric Curcxen anp Prats Croru Gown, No. 198.—Close-fitting Eton jacket ; strapped seams; fancy collar. Skirt has broad front breadth, tight sheath back, slight train. No chemisette with this pattern. A design adaptable for silks or cloths. Material required: of checked goods 4} yards 54 inches wide, and 1) yards of plain. Lear-oreen Ciotu Gown, No. 199.—Handsome belted Eton with roll- ing revers. Skirt sheath, fitted about hips, with introduction of slight fulness below the deep darts. Sleeves very new, with slight shirring at back and front seams at elbow. Requires 7 yards of material 4 inches, and one-half yard of white opera cloth for vest and epaulettes. Créer pe Caine Gown, No. 1994¢.—Admirably euited for reception and dinner dresses. May be effectively rendered in gray or other light cashmeres. Waist to be made over model lining No, 18%. Pat tern now first isened. For full description see color plate, Hanren's Bazan, August 19. Costume requires 15 yards of crépe 27 inches wide, or 10 yards of cashmere or Heurietta cloth 44 inches wide. GIRLS’ PATTERNS. Gint’s Gowns, Wenewoor Bice, No. 1001.—A costume with panel front in skirt and very pretty tarn-over collar, also flaring cufts as bodice features—euitable for winter cloth» and lighter stuffs, such as cashmere and flannels; 43g yards of cashmere 44 inches wide, or 7 yards of material 30 inches wide, will be required for making. Giew's Linen Costume, No. 1002.—Practical design for plaid, wool, or wash fabrics. Designed especially with view of meeting the re- quirements of growing girl's figure. Skirt has 10-inch circular ruM™e. Sleeves shapely but comfortable; deep, pointed, turn-over collar. Eight yards of material 30 inches wide, or 5 yards of dou- ble-width goods, will be sufficient for the making of this garment Grew's Onrcganmek Gown, No. 1008.—Patiern inclades a drop skirt and perforated outer skirt, with position for ruffles indicated on paper. Skirt gored, but on cireular lines. Requires 6 yards of organdie and three-quarter yard of all-over embroidery for yoke. Moviriep Satcor Gown, No, 1005.—Bodice donble-brensted, slightly bloused; skirt with flaring flounce. Las very pretty collar and shapely sleeves, with turned-back cuffs An exceedingly popular model, and one likely to continue in favor. Pattern includes chemisetie. Requires 43¢ yards of material 44 inches wide. Grat’s Batmine Costume, No, 1006.—Has a shaped skirt, with gathers in centre of back and flares at knee. Bodice a blouse, with elbow sleeves and square sailor collar. Very suitable for gymnasiom or exercising generally. Incindes knickerbockers. Requires 4 yards of serge 44 inches wide. Giat's Newport Jacket, No. 1007—Donble-breasted, with scalloped wide collar. Back seamless in centre, but with side, back, and under-arm gores. Box sleeves. Pattern includes design for inner collar. Quantity of material required, 13g yards 54 inches wide. Tvoxen Orcanme Gown, No. 1008, — Skirt fitted to figure by means of stitched pleats, Pattern accurately marked with pleat-lines. A pretty model for cashmeres, veiling=, or crépes. Will require 53g yards of material 45 inches wide. Giat's Dorren Gown, No. 1000.—Yoke and lower body tacked. Also upper sleeve. Back corresponds with frent. The new skirt has front and side breadth, with fniness in centre of back. Suitable for merinoes, veilings, cashmeres, and other light-weight goods. Four and one-half yards of material 44 inches wide will be required to make. Suiet-warst anp Crnoucar Skier Costume, No. 1010.—Waist has a back yoke and grouped tucks Sleeves of narrow shirt - waist width fitting smoothly into the cuff. The skirt is a plain circular, with a seam in centre of back concealed under slight pleats; 24 yards of serge 44 inches wide are required for the making of the skirt, and 244 yards of nainsook or cambric 30 inches wide for the shirt- waist. Giew's Gown Bivr Liven, No. 1011.—Shaped flounce on skirt, which is slightly fall in centre of back. Bodice is pleated in back to cor- respond with front view. Lining, waist, complete. Material re- quired, 7 yards of linen 30 inches wide. Garment highly desirable for winter fabrics. Gatatea Gown vor Greta, No. 1012.—Has a simulated petticoat. Especially desirable for girls of stocky figure. Suitable for treat- ment in heavy fabrics, with fur or heavy braid. Back of blouse al- most plain. Requires 6 yards of materia! 30 inches wide. Grew's Kuvr Sxret anp Jacker, No. 1013.—A serviceable costume for general wear. Made in heavy cloth, and with far trimmings can be adapted to winter needs. Required amount of goods same as in preceding design. Giew’s Prat Suet, No. 1014.—An Hient and pict que home or school dress. Shoulder-straps may be ornamented with shirred or fancy ribbons, Skirt in three pieces can be worn with any shirt- waist. Five and one-half yards of material 27 inches wide will be required for this garment. Giat’'s wioe-eiaatev Skiers, No. 1015.—For treatment in serge, cloth, cheviot, or other heavy-weight material. Has box-pleated front of skirt and easy box coat. Both garments exceedingly artistic. Material required, 43g yards 44 inches wide. This will be found among the pages of each HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, FRANKLIN SQUARE, NEW YORK CITY.