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Show lt 1 Woman's World PEOPLE THE WORLD NEEDS. The Women. Women who are gentle, courteous and .::') W omen who have not lost the ancient iii ! of loving. ; Women in whom the maternal in- I s-iiin-t is not dried up. ( Women who believe they have a high er destiny than a life of idleness and luxury.- , Women who consider it beneath their ' canity to either drink or smoke. ( Women who will never speak unchar itably .f the less fortunate of their sex I The Men. j who put character above wealth. I Men who will not lose their individu- I;ty in a crowd. M-'ii M ho will be as honest, in small trui'ss as in great things. i Jb'n whose ambitions are not con-. con-. f uel to their own selfish desires. Men who are true to their friends Tiiroush go; d report and evil report, in I .:i ''rsry as well as liv prosperity. M "ii who do not believe-that shrewd-1 shrewd-1 .-f-s. sliarpnesa. eunning and Jungle;..; Jung-le;..; TACT AND POPULARITY. T;ut is a birth gift from the fairies. The woman who has it is happy all i.i i- life loiiff. .She may have poverty iv i r portion, she may have an ugly ' . .1 had figure and poor health. She ;,!!(- hi. k education and mental ability. Km with it all she will always say ill.- right tiling at the right time; she Miil know, without being told, the ex-:.t ex-:.t tiling to do to give happiness to 1 "t- jissociatcs. If there is an irreme-..;ible irreme-..;ible something the matter with your ..Pli.virain'c. she will not tell you of it ju.-i you are stepping on a street ar: s!m will not whisper to you in f liur.-h that there is a tear in the back :' your waist or that the trimming -on a our hat has ripped and is hanging .l.iwi: your back; she will not tell you that th- man yu just chatted with is M'torions. and that no woman can speak to htm and be considered rep-titatil'-. She will not look you over and imake you feel to the innermost fibre of your being that something is terribly ter-ribly wrong with you and that in some ! important particular you are making a sh w if yourself. Not she. She is : v. :,:.'!. tly blind and deaf and dumb. . i h.ls the happy faculty of minding own business. And everybody ')K.s her. You may know in your li.art that she is not entirely sincere, hut she makes you comfortable and so she is popuuar. Kvery woman would like to be popular. popu-lar. But bits of them are too selfish, too vain, too anxious to please, too vensorioiis to attain to it. "vYh'n in ompaiiv ii,- wants to vaunt herself. h.' wants to brag, she wants to take th. .riiier.of the stage and conduct a monologue about her husband's shortcomings, short-comings, about her children's $erfec-tions $erfec-tions and what their teachers predict i l"r them, about her kitchen politics, f ah.mt the women on her street, or in f !; ! sewing society tnd she wearies her I h-arers. Everybody; draws a. long I hn-ath of relief .when' .she ta"kes her-I her-I s' !f off and hopes- that she won't feel mat auty compel her to come again soon. She ,v.ants to. get. popularity, but tither she has a 'mistaken idea of the means to - get it or -she doesn't" know what it is. Even though a AvdmairVe horn " with an awkward habit .'of. speech and a tiresome disposition, she ran cultivate tact and, by and by. find herself ai popular woman, adored by her friends and admired by her constitutional enemies. ene-mies. Rut she has got to sink self in order to do. it. She may thoroughly 'njcui lhe. snyirt : sensation etf saving lever things- about other woman" behind be-hind their backs they are sure to "hear of her over-indulgence; she ma vhave ;.rj itching of the tongue which impels her to repeat mean remarks made .-bout you by some other woman: she may find enjoyment in contemplation of her miseries and of yours and talk ihem over: she may be absolutely certain cer-tain that this is a wicked world and that it is her bounden duty to talk :-bout her discoveries. What such a v-t'iiian nas to ao is to shake herself ."iiKl rid herself of her bad habits of thought and speech. Let her eschew t;atfry in her attempts, but let her; seek for a good quality and see noth-i-ig else in the one she wants to please. None of the bad are as Lad as we think ihin: none of-the good ars as good we think them. So she can always a good point to begin with. And if she cannot so far conquer herself as to s;vrak well, she can surely keep sllei.t. If phe goes around with her I -y,s ,,r,Pn je will find sunshine, and that is always welcome. To not make too much of small dis-1 dis-1 'l 'if. .1 1 . We are pretty sure of dis- -.mforts most of the time. Something is always a little less than perfect. Jo ii.it mh.ij too much if you do want a diii.k of wafr and can"! get it. Do not. spoil someone else's enjoyment be- 8use yoU a re too cold or too warm or because y,,n have heard the story be-foic be-foic or because your seat does not suit ."'on. If y. woman makes a fuss about iy little thing she will be shunned. . h matter is in your own hands. , Everybody jn his heart thinks that .'.:s affairs are of interest. Encourage -ii.ii m tins by listening to his talk. nM; se i have changed the gender in ' ie matter under consideration man Must have attention.) If he has a fad. '.id out something about the subject ; 'i-d make it yours. If he is interested "''ly in himself, listen to his talk "liile and he will b interested in ou. Haven't we all listened to, a "ary monologue about something we ''y -d nothing for and-when the bore ...ok .Hve. heard him enthusiastic the pleasant evening he had .'" V Many a woman has caught a husband by a Judicious use of LITTLE INTERRUPTIONS. 'i-'toin th.- Sacred Heart Review.) 'liarming story is told of St. ' ' iii. 's. of Home, that holy wife, 'iLT, foundress of a religious order, ' i'w. and then a nun in the order '' 't six- foundod. She was born in and died in H4f; but the story told r b'-r has its peculiar adaptation to ' hurrying strenuous 3903. I '"!" indeed ours is a hurryin.r, rest-atio rest-atio life today and "American-'i-'' is not. a thing to be laughed at, u: a -ry serious matter. We have so ''y.-y .-alls upon our time, so little " 'iiir. . so many interruptions, while ; :' h onstant inroads are made upon '"r strength and resources, that our ' . ' vous- faculties are demoralized and !'atien-e is well nigh gtfn". And who it it that does not main-'ai'i main-'ai'i that '"little, nagging things" are h. worst of all? The trifling interruptions, inter-ruptions, the i'easeless chatter, the -i'tliiis;. electric -ars, the twanging ' 'phone, the door bell, the c-allers, :h. l.iisiiiess agejits for sewing ma- bines ! 'posttim cereal," iir any-' any-' ni t we want or nothing we' want. "hi it- may be an age of many con-" con-" enicnecs, but they have brought in "hir train endless annoyance as well. If we ,,,uld only be still for awhile, and 'Mend only to what is important, to what is great! Father Faber has declared that lit- le. constant interruptions form the daily trial, the far from self-imposed Mortification of the priest. St. Frances Fran-ces of Rome, however, teaches us something more than that: So now for her story. One day, this noble Koman ldy knelt down in her o.uiet oratory to Pay the prayers and read the psalms she dearlv loved. It was H bo ver quiet, ami peaceful, and restful, as she read, in Psalm 72, the words: "How food ii God to Israel, to them that are CJl rJfht heat,t I am always . Thee' Tnou hast he'd me by my right. hana; and with Thy glory Thou hast received me." But there and then came a knock at her door; her servant waited to say that Lorenzo, her husband, hus-band, was departing for the chase, and wished to say farewell to her. . Sweetly she. rose and left her prayersshe pray-ersshe was wont to say that "a married mar-ried woman must leave God at the altar al-tar to find Him in her domestic cars!" she saw her husband ride away, watching him faithfully till he was out of sight; then she returned to her oratory, only to be interrupted three times more at that selfsame verse. Her child wanted to speak to her, she met him with a loving smile; a pilgrim had come from the Holy Land, she humbly knelt and washed, his travel-stained feet, and reverently heard his story, and gave him food; a gay young nobleman, noble-man, passing by. came in for an idle chat, and was patiently and courteously courte-ously received. Not once did a murmur mur-mur cross those holy lips, sealed against any querulous or complaining utterance by the one soothing, uplifting uplift-ing thought of "the will of God." But when she went back, peacefully, the fourth time to her little room, it ' seemed to her she saw a radiant form of heavenly beauty disappear from her prayer-desk; and. on the page of her misisal. shone out in golden letters of unearthly loveliness the words of her psalm at which she had been so continually con-tinually interrupted, and by "little interruptions" in-terruptions" only; "I am always with Thee. Thou hast held me by my right hand: and by Thy will Thou hast conducted con-ducted me. and with Thy glory Thou hast teceived me." Here lies the cure for our nervousness, nervous-ness, our worry, our "Americauitis," if you choose to call it so. We must take our little interruptions, as we try to take our great ones, simply and sweetly sweet-ly as the w ill of God. This is the one thing necessary, and by doing it. we embrace always the better part of Mary; for he who does God's will everywhere, in small things as in great things, finds God everywhere, and, whether in crowds and tumults, or in prayer and' Communion, he stirs not from his placie at Jesus' feet. Let us look thus on "little interruptions," that come, uncalled for but imperative, impera-tive, in our daily lives; sooner or later, in God's good time, our restless, nervous, ner-vous, storm-tossed being will become "calm as the whirlpool's central deep." The Girl Ashamed of Her Mother. "It is a sorry day for a girl," says a writer in Success, "when she feels herself her-self superior to her mother, and considers con-siders herself called upon to apologize for her bad grammar, mispronounced words, foreign accent or slips in speech. When a girl becomes so small and contemptible con-temptible that she is ashamed to appear in public with her mother, because she is old-fashioned and dowdy in, appearance, appear-ance, her hands brawny, her face prematurely pre-maturely wrinkled, and her form bent by long years of drudgery for -her children, chil-dren, she is. indeed to be pitied. Sho has indeed' fallen below contempt. "What a return to make to the poor mother for all herself-sacriftee. -for the years of patient trials, cheerfully plodded plod-ded through, that her daughter might njoy advantages that she in her youth never. d.reamed of !-. . - . "The girls who are ashamed of their hard-working mothers are few. Happily compared with . the vast. -number who appreciate, and endeavor to repay their mothers' sacrifices. Still, there are too many of them girls who do hot even darn their own stockings, mend their own clothing or make their own beds. "I have in mind a mother who is constantly con-stantly making sacrifices in order that her daughter may make a good appearance... appear-ance... Sh?-.. wears, her old; - cloak -.an 3 shabby bonnet another year: she remodels re-models for the second time- and tries to freshen up the gown which should have been discarded last year, so that the young girl may have new ones ami I appear to as good advantage as other girls o fher age. She drudges from morning till night, and often far into th'e night, so that her daughter may have more leisure to practice accom-' plishments. or to have a good . time. Anything is good enough for the slave-mother. slave-mother. When the tired hands should be at rest, they are busy with some dainty laundry work, or plying the needle on some pretty thing for the girl's adornment when she shall make her next appearance, at a dance or a reception. re-ception. The daughter, meanwhile, is gossiping about the neighborhood oil's oi-l's at the theatre, or some other place of amusement, or, perhaps, she sits by reading a silly story or strumming -on. the piano. Should her mother ask her to assist her by washing the dishes, clearing off the table, or doing some other simple duty, she usually finds some excuse for getting out of it." Disgraceful Deficiencies.' It is a disgrace: To half do things. -Not to develop your possibilities. To be lazy .indolent, indifferent. To do poor, slipshod, botched work. To give a bad example to young people peo-ple ' To have crude, brutish, repulsive manners. To hide a talent because- you have only one. To live a half life when a whole life is possible. Not to be scrupulously clean in person per-son and surroundings. To acknowledge a fault and make no effort to overcome it. - To be ungrateful to friends and to those who have helped us.. ' ' To go through life like a pigmy when nature intended you for a giant. To kick over the ladder upon which we have climbed to our position. To be grossly ignorant of the customs cus-toms and usages of good society. To ignore the fortes which vie improving im-proving civilization in your own country. coun-try. Not to be able to carry on intelligently intelli-gently conversation upon current topics?. top-ics?. To shirk responsibilities in politics, or , to be indifferent to the public welfare. I To know nothing of the things we see, handle and enjoy every day of our lives;. To be ignorant of the general history his-tory of the world and of the various countries. ... Not to know something of the great est leaders, reformers, artists and musicians mu-sicians of the world. Not to have intelligent knowledge of the general affair? of the world and the inter-relations of .nations.' Not to know enough about the laws of health, about physiology and hygene, to live healthy and sanely. I To vote blindly for party, light or wrong, instead of for principle. rsecn.ue you have been doing so for year?. To be grossly ignorant of. these days of free, schools, cheap newspapers', periodicals peri-odicals and circulating libraries. To be controlled by any appetite or passion that one's usefulness and standing in the community are im-jiaireil. im-jiaireil. , , . x To be totally ignorant of natural history, his-tory, to know nothing of the science: which underlies the beauties and mar-vein mar-vein of nature. . Not to have an intelligent idea of tn country in which we live, not to know its history, its industries and the covv ditions of its people. Not to know anything of the movements move-ments for human betterment and noi. to help them along to the extent of our ability in time or money. ' To live in the niidjst of schools, libraries li-braries and improvements clubs; and not to avail oneself of their advantages. LITTLE THINGS. A little thrill of laughter, a chord in nature's song; A little deed of righteousness to stand against the wrong; A little duty heeded; a little honor won ; A little hill surmounted; and a little kindness done; A little labor daily; a little prayer and praise; A little act of kindness to gladden weary days; And so the whole creation in its ceaseless cease-less heaven swings, For little man is living in a world of little things. . i A little hope to cheer us, although it . Waiteth still; A little fire for comfort, -when winter nights are chill; - v ', A little dream, God-given, to bless us on the way; A little welcome waiting us at the ending end-ing of the day; A little purpose shining through every deed we do; A little bunch of roses to overspread the rue; A little peace surpassing to which the spirit clings. For little man is living in a world of . little things. A little hope, a little love, a little toil and rest; , A little glimpse beyond the veil, a little lit-tle problem guessed; A little faith, a little doubt, a little blinded trust; A little halting journey, and a little of its dust; A little knowledge merely of the little w-ays we wend; A little dream of heaven, awaiting in the end; A little struggling upward, although on broken wings, For little man is living in a world of little things. Does a Baby Pay? "Does a 3-year-old baby pay for it-Pelf it-Pelf up to the time it leaches'that interesting in-teresting age?" asked an author w hose works are among the "best sellers." "Sometimes I think not." I thought not yesterday when my own baby slipped into my study and scrubbed the carpet and his best white dress with my bottle bot-tle of ink: and again, later in the dav. when he pasted 50 cents' worth of stamps on the parlor floor and poured a dollar's worth of the choicest white rose perfumery out of the window to 'see it wain.' ' "He has already cost me more than' $200 in doctors' bills, and I feel that I am right in attributing my few gray hairs to the misery I endured walking the floor with him at night during the first" year and a half of his life. "What has he ever done to pay me for that? "Ah, I hear hia little feet pattering along out in the hall, r hear his little ripple of laughter because he has escaped es-caped from his mother and bas found his way up to my study at a forbidden hour. But the door is closed. The worthless little vagabond can't get in and I won't open it for him. No, I won't. I can't be disturbed when I am writing. He can Just cry if he wants to. No, I won't be bothered for 'Rat, ta. ta,' go his dimpled knuckles on the door. I sit in silence. 'F.at, tat, tat ' I sit perfectly still. " 'Paiia:' ." 'Peeze, papal' 'Grim silence. " "Baby turn in peeze papa!' ,"He shall not come in. " 'My papa!' "I write on. " 'Papa,' says the little voice. 'I lub my papa. Peeze let baby in.' "I am not a brute, and I throw open the door. In he comes, with outstretched out-stretched little arms. I catch him up and his warm, soft little arms go around my neck, the not. very clean little cheek is laid close to mine, the baby voice says sweetly: " "I lub my papa!' "Does he pay? Well, I guess he does! He has cost me manv anxious days and nights. He has cost me time and money and care and self-sacrifice He may cost me pain and sorrow. He has cost me much. But he has paid for it. all again and again in whispering those four little words into my ears." Leader. A PAPER PILLOW. A pap:r pillow is invaluable in sickness, sick-ness, especially in cases of fever, as it keeps continually cool and is not expensive. ex-pensive. All scraps of writing paper, old notes, old envelcpes any paper which comes to hand may be used. Cut these into strips about one-half inch wide and two inches long, curl them well with a penknife after mixing mix-ing in a few shreds of flannel, stuff the pillowcase quite full, and you have a comfortable pillow. COURTSHIP POINTERS. Agree with the girl's father in politics. pol-itics. If you have a rival, keep an eye on him. If he is a widower, keep two eyes on him. Go home at a reasonable hour in tho evening. Don't wait until a girl has to throw her whole soul into a yawn that she can't cover with both hands. A little lit-tle thing like that might cause a coolness cool-ness at the very beginning of the game. If, on the occasion of your first call, the girl upon whom you have set your young affections looks like an iceberg, and acts like a cold wave, take your leave early and stay away. Woman in her hour of freeze is uncertain, coy and hard to please In cold weather finish saying goodnight good-night in the house. Don't stretch it all the way to the gate and thus lay the foundation for future asthma, bronchitis, bron-chitis, neuralgia and chronic catarrh to help you to worry the girl after she has married. Don't lie about your financial condition. It is very annoying to a bride who has pictured a life of ease in her ancestral halls to ask a baldheaded old parent'who has been uniformly kind to her to take you both in out of the cold. RUSKIN'S IDEA OF WIFEHOOD. What do you think the bedutlful word "wife" comes from? It is the great word in which the English and Latin languages conquered the rench and Greek. I hope the French will some day get a word instead of that femme. But what do you thing it comes from ? The great value of the Saxon words is that they mean something. some-thing. Wife means "weaver." You must either be housewives or house-moths, house-moths, remember that. In the deep sense,, you . must either weave men's fortunes and embroider them, or feed upon and bring them to decay. Wherever Wher-ever a true wife comes, home is al-ways-around hfr. The stars may be over head, the glow-worm at her feet, but home is where she is and for a nohle woman it stretches far around her. better than houses ceiled with cedar or painfd with vermillion shedding its quiet light for those who else are homeless. This. I believe, is the woman's true place and power. MOTHER'S" LITTLE MAN. Eyes of blue and hair of gold. Cheeks all brown with summer tan. Lips that much of laughter hold, This is mother's little man. Shining curls like chestnuts brown, ' Long-lashed eyes, demure and staid, Sweetest face in all the town, This is mother's little maid. i Dainty room with snow-white beds Where, like flowers with petals curl-' curl-' ed, Iiest In peace two dreaming heads, This is mother's little world! Robert F. Roden. Rough Hands. A common cause of rough and red hands of women who do their own house work is that they neglect to wash off the coarse soap they have been using us-ing in water, and because the hands are clean do nothing further. Hands are clean after washing dishes or dish towels or. the like, because they have been in a strong soap water. But soap that will out grease from dishes will ruin the hands if it is allowed to remain re-main on them, and every woman who does her own housework should keep at the kitchen sink a cake of soft toilet soap (Castile, if it agrees with her skin) and when she has finished her kitchen work, even though her hands be as white as snow, she should wash them thoroughly with the toilet soap, using a nail brush, and then rub in glycerine and rose water. If this is done faithfully faith-fully there will be no trace of housework house-work by rough hands. Improper wiping wip-ing is the cause of much chapping of the skin of the hands and omission of some soothing emollient used after-I after-I ward finishes the bad work. Unless i every particle of the skin is dry, and I also unless a softening preparation is rubbed on, the skin will be rough and dry because that is the effect of the water. There is nothing better compounded com-pounded by chemists for the skin than glycerine and rose water, and glycerine and plain water is cheaper and equally good.' The proportion is one-third glycerin gly-cerin and two-thirds water. The addition ad-dition of five drops of pure carbolic acid to half a pint of the mixture increases in-creases its healing qualities. Have the druggist drop in the carbolic and have the glycerine in a bottle large enough to hold the rest of the liquid. Add the plain of rose water and shake violently to mingle thoroughly. Keep on the washstand or at the sinK, and whenever when-ever the hands are wet. pour on three or four drops of glycerine, rub it over and then wipe dry. Jn cases of extreme ex-treme chapping due to bavins? the hands much in water in cold weather, bathing them at night in a poultice made of linseed meal and almond oil will be found excellent. Wash the hands well in this, dry, do not apply water, but draw on a pair of gloves. Gloves, if they did not know it, are ii means of grace to women who do their own housework. They protect the skin so from contact dust and grease that after a morning's sweeping the hands are scarcely soiled at all. and consequently conse-quently the skin has not. been dried. Any old gloves will do, provided they are large. It is better to wear a man's pair than one's own, and a wise house- Keeper will save those of her husband after he is through with them, and one pair will last her for weeks. Whenever When-ever she dusts or sweeps she should i pull them on. I AN EMPTY DAY. Mabel Earle. "An empty day," I said, when from His hand I took it first, what time the dawn grew grey, "oid of the work and joy that I had planned: An empty, bitter day. "How shall I face the long, still hours," I said, "The slow sure hours whose silence is not peace, As one by one they pass with even tread Until the daylight cease?" I bowed mine head, and said, "God help me bear The cross of these forsaken hours, I Pray, As in thy sight." Then first I was aware Of patience in my day. One after one the silent hours went past. Nor joy nor hope came near my lot to share, u Nor blessed -work, to hands which pain held fast: Yet they were hours of prayer. And while I waited, and they still went on, Infinite yearning drew my heart above. Outstretching to the gates where Christ has gone So they were hours of love. One other Guest I knew, when far away The last still hour through sunset portals trod:. The presence that filled my eippty day Prayer, Patience, Love, and God. Sympathy. Sympathy is food for a starving heart. Sympathy is two hearts pulling at one load. Sympathy is the staff on which trouble trou-ble leans. Sympathy is "the cream that rises on the milk of human kindness. Sympathy in sorrow's hour is like the gentle rain to drooping flowers. Sympathy is the least the rich may give, the most the pcor can- offer. Sympathy is the blossom grown from the costly bulb called personal suffering. suffer-ing. Sympathy is a well toned instrument that readily respons to notes of weal and woe. Sympathy is the most powerful human hu-man magnet for attracting and holding hold-ing friendship. Sympathy is perfect forgetfulnens of one's self in true feeling, of the unhap-piness unhap-piness of others. Sympathy is love's healing balm spread by pity's tender hand on sorrow's sor-row's heart wound. She Never Grows Old. Who allows herself to think only of pleasant things. Who trains her tongue to utter only pleasant words. Who remembers that frowns are unbecoming un-becoming and that smiles are better. Who keeps her nerves well under control, and remembers that they are not an interesting subject to every one : else. Who enters into the plans and, as far as possible, into the doings of the young people about her. Who never allows herself to become slouchy and careless in appearance. Who" treats others as she likes to be . cared for herself and never demands too much from her friends. The Woman Who Nags. , There is the. woman who- nags, and many do it without being conscious of i it. She is often perfectly 'well bred in ! all other respects, but she loves her ! husband so that she can't help but ply him with questions. The; whys and j wheres and whens and '"I tcid you so" become a daily routine which exhausts i the patience of the best of men. A'wise wife should remember that when a thing has once been talked over and threshed out it. is good form at least to let it alone. Constant reference to a fault. or a mannerism is the cause of more marital infelicity than the aver- age wife dreams of. Good manners are ! happy ways of doing things, and good sense, cheerfulness and tact should guide every w'oman who bears the honor and dignity of wifehood toward the channel of these happy ways. IN SIGHT. The path is gone; I've lost my way Far from the light. Grant me, oh God, strength day by day To walk aright! In pity cast a feeble ray Across my night; Oh Father, be my guide, my stay-Keep stay-Keep me in sigrht! , -Mary M. "Redmond. ' i w |