OCR Text |
Show i 'Of Tnterest' to Eadp Readers CHARITY. Could I rommand with voice or pen The tongues if ar.xds and of men, A 1 inkling; cymbal, sounding brass. My speech and preacliinu; would surpass; Yiiin wciv such eloquence to mc, Without the grace of charity. Oould I the martyr's flame endure, Give all my poods to food the poor, Had 1 th- faith from Alpine istoep To hurl the mountain 'to the deep. What wore such zeal, such power 10 me, "Without the grace of charity? Could I iehold with prescient eye Things future sis the things Rope, by; Oould 1 all carthiy knowledge scan, And n. ;c out heaven with a span, poor wore the chief' of nifts to me, Without the chiefest charity. Charity suffers long, is k i n 1 . m Chiiity bears a humble mind, Ilejoiees not when ills befall. l'-tn glories in the weal of ail. five hopes. believes, and envies not, Jsctr vaunts, nor murmurs o'er her lot. The tongues of ttticlip'-p shall he dumb, i I'ropliets discern not things to come, l . Knowledge shall vanish, out of thought, j I And miracles no more be wrought, I ; Fut charity shall never fail. i ' ller anchor Is witlu'n the veil. THE DEAD BABE. Last night, as my dear babe lay dead, In agony 1 knelt an.i said: "O God. what have I done. Or in what wise offended. Thee, That Thou shouldst take awav from mo My little son? 'X'pon the thousand useless live?. ' ! Vi-on t!ie guilt that vaunting thrives, I J Thy wrath were bitter spent; ' j Why shouldst Thou take my little son j Why shouldst Thou vent Thy wrath upon I This innocent?" Last nisht. as my dear ba,Uo lay dead, liefore mine eyes the vision spread Of things that might have been: Licentious riot, cruel -strife, Forgotten prayers, a wasted life, f Dark red with sini T'lien. with sweet music in the air, 1 saw another vision there: A shepherd, in whose kpp j A little lamb my little child Of worldly wisdom undciiled, lay fast asleep! . ? Last night, as my dear babe lay dead. I In those two messages I read A wisdom manifest; I And though my arms be childless now, i 1 am content to Him I bow -'' Who knoweth best. , BEATRICE FASHION LETTER. First Glimpse of Shirt Waists That j Will Be Worn This Summer 5 Tucks and Lace There Will Be. no Yokes and the Popular Collar Will &a ia rlortririnoTl Rfftrl-c j and Belts Are Alike. (Illustrated by M. C. Goodwin.) i The summer shirt waist is here. I You can see it in the shop windows. I . You can behold the summer girl finger- I ing it ;ind wondering how soon the I metamorphosis will come. You can see I the far-away look of longing in her 1 pretty eyes as she handles the shapely I fronts and touches the curve of the tleeve. 1 It is only a short time before the shirt I -waist will be worn again. Easter brings I it out as purely as it brings out the I spring hat; and of late years the shirt j waist has been as much a feature of Easter week as any of the other spring fashions. j The modistes who first fought the j shin waist have given up battling it. f and have resigned themselves to the i inevitable. Its comfort was such that all women wanted it. and were not I happy until they got it. Women, thick I and thin, long and short, women old I and young, all succumbed to the eom- I f'.rt -of the shirt waist. I While certain general features re- i main the same year after year, others 'j change so that the shirt waist of last I summer will hardly do duty another I year. You can prove this by compar- !ing last summer's shirt waist with the new ones of 1300. So greatly do the styles change that many women make it a charitable practice to bestow the summer's shirt waists upon the poor in the fall, trusting to spring and the new styles for fresh ones, j jn the economv of the short waist, or 1 ''shirt," there is nothing to be said by way of argument. While not cheap at first, it must be laundered so many times that its price rises as the season advances. On the other hand, if a woman wants to look fresh and neat and to be as neat as she looks, nothing noth-ing will suit her as well as the wash waist. A cotton shirt -vaist, in moire effect, of pale mauve, with iale blue figures, j looks very nice. The front can be laid j in side plaits pointing toward the broad j middle hem. The tops or caps of the ! sleeves can be tucked in tiny tuekings that form a trimming: the cuffs can be j very smartly finished, and th waist I can be so fashioned that it gives the fashionable belt, low in front and short I behind. AVith these features, the shirt ! waist of inexpensive cotton cloth takes I on n "air" that fits it to rank with a j waist of greater value, j A tucked lawn waist of expensive lawn and fine lace can be imitated in a coarser lawn and a cheaper lace. Let j the waist be laid in tiny tucks from j neck to belt, the tucks no wider than ! a quarter of an inch. Let the sleeves be tucked in the same way, round and round the arm, from shoulder to I thumbs. AVith diamonds of white em- broidery trim the waist across the I front, placing the diamonds point to point, making two rows. I DIAMOND TRIMMING. Set similar diamonds down the front and around the arms. If taste suggests, sug-gests, continue the diamonds down the sleeve. If the arms be thin, the diamonds dia-monds might be used effectively in a sleeve trimming; or, if the chest be hollow, three rows of diamonds might be) used instead of two. Taste is necessary neces-sary in so simple a thing as the trimming trim-ming of a shirt waist. The new Madras patterns are worthy I a chapter. Madras has such a body that it can be used for a between season sea-son goocii, aud can be put on before it is time for the lawn waist. That very democratic little woman. Mrs. W. K. Vanderbilt, jr., has been wearing shirt waists of Madras cloth all winter. Many very fashionable matrons of the so-called "400" have reveled in the luxury of the wash waist in January. For these women there are now being made whole trunks of the shirt waists that are not thin waists, but are for wear during the painfully long months of spring, when winter clothing drags upon the shoulders and grates upon the nerves, and when lawns and batistes are too thin. The wool challie is more than holding its own. It comes in many colors and patterns, each having a virtue of its own. The cream challie has its place come in for morning use, while for afternoons, af-ternoons, when there are callers, or when there are calls to be made, there are the new greens, browns, blues ana grays, all suited to these purposes. If you doubt that a wool challie could be worn upon a reception day. please take note of one worn at a Washington luncheon by a young lady who entertains enter-tains extensively and whose guests that day included Miss Grace McKinley and Miss Hay. The waist, of ecru challie, was of the tucked variety, the tucks no larger than a cording. Squares of cream Russian Rus-sian lace were appliqued upon the waist outlining a yoke and indicating the middle of the front. Lace also trimmed the sleeves. The neck was finished with a velvet stock of butter-colored velvet riblton. brought around the neck and fastened in an Edna May knot, which has no loops only two ends and is drawn through a buckle just under the chin. The lelt was finished in the seme wav. and the waist was worn with a skirt of cream ground-work, striped and figured with brown. THE POPULAR COLOR. Old rose will be the popular color in Madras. It is almost too early to pre-I pre-I diet the popular summer color, but old ! rose will certainly hold its own and I may enjoy the popularity of crushed strawberry several seasons ago. If old rose- has a rival it is heliotrope and vio-I vio-I let; but these colors are worn more in i the spring than in the summer. Several fentures are noticeable about ' the new shirt waists. They are made, for' the most part, wiiuout the yoke. ONE OF THE LONG RUPSIA.N SKA TING COATS SKETCHED UPON THE LAKE IN CENTRAL PARK LA oi H iii.lv. i . ' The waist is given an addad length by the long, sraight line.5 that extend from the chin to the belt. Those lines are accomplished by trimmings, by fold.-., by tucking and by stripes. lint the fancy for making all waists with yokes is dying out. The sleeve in much snugger and sets j close to the shoulder. It is trimmed, j and the plain sleeve is hard to find. ; Cuffs are larger and stiffer and more j pronounced. Instead of being mere .' wristbands, they are made very prom-' prom-' inent. Cuffs of this description have a tendency to make the hands look s.mall-; s.mall-; cr and ate more becoming than wrist-i wrist-i bands. ! Fronts are full without being blouse. ! The fullnerw is broad, but by no means I baggy. The waist is cut so that it ex-! ex-! tends in yno unbroken line from bust j to belt, not tightly drawn nor too full. This long, straight line from bust to i abdomen is called Ihc busk (not bust) line, and must nevor be confused with the bust line. The "busk" line is well preserved by' the new French corsets, which show one long, straight line from bust to abdomen. NEW NECKWEAR. The most fashionable collar of the summer will bo the clergyman's collar. It opens in the back and is unbroken in front. Thin admits of any necktie, but is prettiest with the narrow satin string tie. The new stocks ere made of velvet; they aro very tali and are finished in front with a buckle. A linen collar is ordinarily worn under such a ;t'.fk to koep it is place, unless the stoek be a made one, all stiffened and crinolined. For ordinary purposes a stock can easily eas-ily be manufactured by winding a velvet vel-vet riblKin. around the collar, so as to hide the collar. I A very pretty fad is t'3 makinar c j collar and fitcck and belt to match. These come in sets, which can be eas- ily duplicated at home. A strip of mauve Liberty silk, with a bit of la.ee upon the ends, makes a tie which can be repeated in lelt. Both can be fastened fast-ened directly in the middle of the front: the necktie is knotted around the collar under the chin, and the belt is drawn through its fastenings or is knotted in a snug four-in-Innd right in front. BEATRICE. SOUTHERN" GIRLS UP IjORTH. The Beautiful Langhorne Sisters, and How They Fared. Three girls came riding up out of the South! That sounds too much like Kingsley's sad song of "Three Fishers." And this somebody to fall back upon. And they will even strive on this frail ground to excuse the fact that they have engaged themselves to marry two persons, one in the frozen North and one in the sunny South. "It will all turn out right," they will tell you. That is the southern gii! before mar- riae. ' j liut once catch your bird and put hor in a cage and it la different. Suddenly from a wayward thing she turn.-; into a model of domesticity. Su. h devoted wives as the si1'13 ho South make were never seen e'aewh;.-e. Flirtatious, and all but naughty before- marriage, they suddenly house themselves up afterwards, af-terwards, go out no more, care nothing for other g.rls and other men. and with thoughts on home alcne, caur, v.nd serve, and wait upon, and worship the man to whom they have said "I will " That io the way with the subjects tf thiis sketch. And new another beautiful southern girl has come up from the south. Her name is Phyllis. She has blue eyoJ put in "the sni'Utty finger" of Ireland; under those low dark bn.uvs thce eyes I play furiously. Her hair is beautifully I glistening, her figure Juncesque. Though vhiiiing her intensely domestic I p'citer, Mrs Gibson, and the two babies, . j Miss Langhorne escapes to rids with j I the Meadcwbrcol-e hounds, to go coach- i ing, to golf on Long Island, to attend ! the great balle. to be petted and cod- I died by the 400. New York has few such girls. The Langhorne family has long been known in the South. Of the "F. F. V.s" FitL-t Families of Virginia they have been leaders. In horsewoman-ship, horsewoman-ship, that sine qua non of the Southerner, South-erner, they have excelled. In beauty none equalled. Mists Phybis is 19, and already with only one season's experience in New York, o.ie hzii ail the beaux after her. ! Even the mammas are singing her i praises; o'.is cooks so well upon a chaf-i chaf-i ing difh. ie so very ourteous to the chaperones, so utterly retiaed in speech, modest, so thoughtful! The young men mention other qualities more desirable, de-sirable, sol ch r.6 the ability to ride to hounds and to take al' obstacles a though they were a tit hills, and to eat a hearty hunt breakf; afterward. They tell a pretty story of how the irrepressible Miaa Phyllis', riding to hounde. tore along upon the back of her hunter, through an orchard where the apple boughs hung low. One of the branches, more persistent than the rest, j caught into the band of her derby and I tore it from her head. P.ut on she rode, unconscious in the excitement of the chase, and so came in at the death, hatles-,3 but flushed and beautiful. A dozen gay cavaliers rode off to get that hat, while the pretty owner flirted desperately des-perately with a doen others, as she rode back to the club house, hatless but happy, with the 1'ox'e tail as a trophy of her success. The Don't "Worry Club. A great many things serve a double purpose, and one of these in the Don't Worry Club. It is ostensibly to calm l ie Mm m I MISS PHYLLIS LANGHORNE. THE PRETTY SISTER OF MRS. CHAS. DANA GIBSON. isn't a sad song at all, though it must be admitted that nien worked for them and women wept at sight of them. liut those three girls were beautiful! Nobody knows, in the chronology of a properly introduced family, which is the eldest, for, after the introduction, all are merged together in the general classification of "daughters that are out." But there were Elizabeth, Irene, Nannie and Phyllis. And they were all Langhorne girls, of Albemarle county, Virginia, and all were the prettient types of pretty girls that the North had seen in many a day. Mrs. Moncure Perkins never got North. She married a Richmond man and now lives there in belledom. But "Nannie" got as far toward the Pole as Boston, where she was grabbed up into matrimony by Mr. Robert Shaw, well known in club and social circles at the Hub. Everybody wondered why that venerated vener-ated artist, Charles Dana GibsOn, insisted in-sisted upon spending all his vacations in the South, even his midsummer ones, and everybody wondered wrhere he got his "girl" and whence came his womanly ideal, anyway. But it was all explained one day when invitations were issued for a Richmond wedding, and when Mr. Gibson, Gib-son, in a blushing littie note, asked Richard Harding Davis and a few other young men to go down and be best men and ushers, etc. He was to marry Irene Langhorne, the queenly Southern beauty, the handsomest the most unquecnly handsome girl of all the beautiful South. It was whispered at that time that Miss Langhorne had the tiniest foot that ever trod the Blue Grass; that she could not, in fact, walk much or far, for those little feet. And it was known that she had the tallest, most commanding figure seen in many a day. With tiny tapering waist, full figure, splendid length from the hips down, she made an ideal model, though it is doubtful if she ever posed, and with that face and hair and voice she became simply irresistible as a companion. com-panion. Yes, Gibson was in luck. His friends declared that with Miss Langhorne Lang-horne as a home model, for life, he ought to go on and on improving, world without end and subsequent events proved the prophecy correct to date. When Mr. and Mrs. Gibson came North it was discovered that Mrs. Gibson could sing. New York is so crowded that there isn't room for field sports, but this girl who could ride like a centaur could sing like Melba; and soon there were offers to go on the stage, to, sing iu pfjhlic, to appear at any time or place. ..But Mrs. Gibson refused them all. 'Hey husband had no idea of Jpinhia'j&ornestic. star to the Metropolitan r management, and for awhile Mrs. Gibs,ori refused to sing at all outside her own home. She so hated notoriety. Southern girls 'have one peculiarity. If you have studied them you have noticed it. ' Before marriage they are the worst flirts in the universe. When you tax them with it they will laugh and tell you that a girl must have the mindiand soothe the nerves. In doing do-ing this it inadvertently works upon the complexion, for there is nothing so absolutely fatal to bloom and freshnei as constant worry and fret. Small lines come out about the eyes and mouth, and the constant rack of brain and nerve makes itself very apparent in the face. Some people, when they are in repose, sink into an unutterably sad train of thought, and this naturally shows itself in the facial ligaments. One can no more Puffer mentally than physically without showing it. Another An-other thing which mars many countenances counte-nances and gives them a dismal expression ex-pression is the dread of growing old. We are warned repeatedly to grow old gracefully. What is growing old gracefully? The answer is simple enough: Growing old naturally. It only hastens matters to grieve over it. Our Don't Worry clubs teach us that age is honorable, and, moreover, that there are so many worse things 'which can happen to a person that a little thins- like growing old is scarcely worth mentioning. Worry about advancing ad-vancing years is like clipping the hair it only hastens" its growth. Cleanliness, Cleanli-ness, naturally, and plenty of exercise in the open air, are great factors in the preservation of one's looks, but without the mind at ease they are not cf much avail. The w oman who walks ten miles with tight shoes and aching , fec-t. urging herself further and further to call the rosea to her cheeks, may be f.urprised on reaching home and looking look-ing in the gjay?, not to find them there, but instead to see some very strained little lines about her mouth and a suffering suf-fering look in the eyes. She tells her- j self that all thif exercise is mere rubbish rub-bish and that she might have done better to remain at home doing the family mending. How nearly right she is. she little guerre." Perhaps that very mending was weighing upon her mind the entire time she was walking, and the thought of it wouid dispel any rose she might gather on 'her way. The mind can bo trained to pleasant thinking just an the body can be trained to any particular carriage, and thiy is what the Don't Worry clubs strive to teach us. A healthy human mind is quite as tangible as a healthy human, body, and one is hardly possible without the other. How many persons who have scoffed at and ridiculed these ;ia.me clubs when told of the salubrious effect upon the complexion will continue con-tinue to deride them? We shall probably prob-ably have more of them than ever. They may come to be called Beauty Clubs after awhile. Demorest'y Magazine. Maga-zine. ' WHAT CATHOLICS HAVE DONE. Take Up the Comparison of the Good Women Who Are Protestants. Those who imagine that this is not a philanthropic age and that persons of wealth can find no greater delight than in adding to the extent of their fortune, will find an almost unanswerable unanswer-able argument in the record of women's wo-men's notable gifts for the public good during the year 1899. if this list should be made to include the men who have mnm',m m ini ui mi.mn ' 111 I un ii .1111.1 innu 1 ,1 11 ::, given millions for charitable or educational educa-tional purposejs, it would be greatly 'increased, but. as many of these acts have already been maJe public, while the greater number of the gifts by women wo-men have passed unheralded, a record of the latter charitiea is more interesting. inter-esting. Although unquestionably there have been many gifts of which the world has never heard, the amount of money that has been known to have been given by women during the past year if: certainly not less than SK00O.0O0. of this the largest single sum was the SlO.OOO.iMio given by Mrs. Leland Stanford Stan-ford for educational purposes. The amount that Mrs. Phcebe Hearst has given for a similar purpose is not known, but it is certainly very large, and she if adding to it every year. During 1899 Mrs. Joseph Moffatt of Los Angeles. Cal., gave the National Florence Crittesndon mission property worth more than JoO.OOO. and the Home for Convalescents and Invalids at Santa Barbara. Cal., benefited by the will of Miss Anna. S. C. Blake to the extent of ssn.00. Mix Blake also left Jle.OeO to the Cottage hospital. JlO.oo to the Orthopedic hospital at Philadelphia, Phila-delphia, and $10,000. to the Boston hospital. hos-pital. A SLUM CHARITY. A charitable movement that represents repre-sents the expenditure of nearly $400,000 has been founded during the past year by Mrs. Alfred Corning Clark, in memory mem-ory of her husband. It is the -iifred Corning Clark Neighborhood House, which has been erected in the most crowded part of the lower East Side. Here men's, women's, boys' and girls' clubs have been established, and the residents of this part of the New York slums are invited to take advantage of the many educational and amusement features of the charitable enterprise. The new iloating hospital for St. John's Guild is another charity that i.s fully appreciated by the poor people of Nov.- York. It was given at a cost of $83,000 by Mrs. Augusta D. Juillard. Recognizing the value of such charitable charita-ble work, a .malltr craft was placed in commission during the summer months. This was purchased with money donated by Mrne. Emma Abbott, Ab-bott, the singer. Miss Helen Gould is always charitable, charita-ble, and this year has been no exception excep-tion to the ordinary rule of her life. During the twelve months just past she has undoubtedly given thousands of dollars of which the world has no record, but the donations that have been announced include S23.000 to the endowment fund of the University of Chicago; $S,000 to establish a scholarship scholar-ship at Vassar college; two scholarships scholar-ships of Stl.iKM) each to the Moody schools at Northfield, Mass., one for tho girls' seminary and one for the boys'; $5,000 to endow a free bed at the Manhattan Eye and Ear hospital, New-York, New-York, and several thousand dollars for cyclone sufferers and to provide summer sum-mer outings for the sick poor. While tha Vandelbilt contributions have not been as large as those of Miss Gould, they amount to a considerable consid-erable sum. Mrs. Cornelius Vanderbilt has sent $3,000 to the New York police peraion fund and $1,000 to be spent in aiding the sick poor of Newport. On Thanksgiving day Mrs. Frederick Vanderbilt Van-derbilt gave a dinner to all the poor boys of Newport at a cost of $l.r00. Mrs. O. H. P. Belmont and Mrs. P. A. Harper each contributed $3,000 to the Nassau hospital at Hempstead, L. I., and Mrs. Belmont gave $;")U0 to provide a Thanksgiving celebration for the children! of the Sunday school of Trinity Trin-ity church. New port. MODEST GIVERS. A gift of $30,000 from a woman who insisted that the name should not be mentioned, enabled Bishop Grafton of Fon du Lac, AS' is., to wipe out the indebtedness in-debtedness on his cathedral and to augment his ftchool fund. Early last year Miss Elizabeth Plankinton of Milwaukee Mil-waukee gove $100,000 for a Young Woman's Wo-man's Christian association in that citv. During tho year Mrs. Francis Brock-hoist Brock-hoist Cutting contributed $3,000 for the sick poor of St. Mary's parish, Newport, New-port, this being a memorial to her son, Brockholst Cutting, and Mrs. Anson Phelpa Stokes gave $4,000 to the parish of the Heavenly Rest, New York. The money will be used to establish a library li-brary and recreation house in the most crowded part of the Italian colony. One of the richest bequests of the century came just after New Year's clay, when the Misses Olivia and Carrie Stokes save $600,000 to Yale. This money will be devoted to erecting a new administration building. New-buildings New-buildings to cost $1,000,000 were voted for the bi-centennial in the shape of an alumni hall, a now dining hall and a memorial vestibule. MEANINGS OF BOER. WORDS. The following list will be found useful by readers of the Transvaal war news. The pronunciation of the more difficult words is given: Poort A pass between or over the mountains. Drift A ford. Laager A Boer camp. Uitlander A non-burgher of .the Transva-. Oorlog War. Palapwe (Pal-larp-sway) Very large native town in Bechuanaland, Chief Khama's headquarters. Biltong Boer provender. Dried meat. Veldt The South African prairie. Pan A sheet of water. Pont A ferrv. Kojije A hillock. Zarp A Boar policeman. Dop Boer brandy. Dorp A Boer village. Kloof A ravine. Gaberones (Gad-ber-ones) Very important im-portant native town ninety miles north of Mafeking. Krantz A cleft between hills. Disselboom Pole of an ox wagon. Commando A body of Boers. Fontein A spring. Voorlopcir The boy leadins the first span of an ox team. Boer A peasant. Burgher Male over 16 years old possessing pos-sessing the franchise. Afrikander A white man born in South Afrika of European stock. Komati Poort (Komarty-poort) Border Bor-der town, Transvaal and Portuguese territory. Kraal A cattle pound or collection of native huts. Kantoor (Kan-tore) Rocky mining valluy near Barberton, in Transvaal. Commandeer To mobilize; to, requisition. requi-sition. Commandant Commander. Dop per The Puritanical-Lutheran Boer. Aapien River (Arpies) Runs through Pretoria into the Limpopo. Zoutpansberg (Zoot-pans-berg) Very-large Very-large northern district of Transvaal; highly mineralized. Griqualand West (Greek-a-land) District of Kimberley diamond mines. Berg A mountain. Klip A stone. Spruit A small stream. Bethuhe (Beth-ooly) Town in the Orange Free State. Taal Boer low Dutch language. Trek Traveling by ox wagon. Nek The saddle connecting two hills. Voortrokker The older generation of Boers who took part in the great trek of 1S37. Rahmalhlabama (Ray-math-lay-bar-mer) Near Mafeking: British camp. Geldenhuis (Geld-den-hise) Formerly member o' the voiksraad for Johannesburg. Johannes-burg. Vereeniging (Fur-eeny-ging) First station on the Transvaal side of the Vaal river; the custom house. Dam An artificial lake. Sluit A drv ditch. Vlei A small lake. The Unappreciated. They are everywhere. They are toiling toil-ing in obscurity "faithful over a few things," while doing a great york. Many of them are laying foundations of character, and in what better work can anyone engage? Some are mothers, moth-ers, often weary and discouraged at the depravity of their children. How many provocations ana hindrances! j Mm1 I ... Mfhi 111' - T V.-W' l 1 -ffp .jTif gr- -VJjf' -'iff DESIGN" FOR ONE OF THE NEW SHIRT WAISTS OF THE SEASON How many temptations and vexations over a teething child, when her head and back ache and her nerves have as many points an a chestnut burr! She works and wearies, not from "dawn to dewey eve," but from before dawn to lata at night, and all from pure love: How greatly would she be cheered if huy'cand would speak an appreciative word ! THE CHILDREN. It is not when the children are with you; it is not when you see and hear them, that they are most to you: it is when the sad assemblage is gone; it is when the daisies have resumed their growing again in the place where the little form was laid; it is when you have carried your children out, and said farewell, and come home again, and day and night are full of sweet memories: mem-ories: it is when summer and winter are full of touches and suggestions of them: it is when you cannot look up toward God without thinking of them: nor look down toward yourself and not think of them: it is when they have gone out of your arms, and are living to you only by the power of the imagination, imag-ination, that they are the most to you. The invisible children are the most real children, the sweetest children, the truest children, the children that touch our hearts as no hands of flesh ever could touch them. DAUGHTERS OF THE MONTHS. Astrology says: If a girl is born in January, she will be a prudent housewife, house-wife, given to melancholy, but good-tempered. good-tempered. If in February, a humane and affectionate affec-tionate wife and tender mother. If in March, a frivolous chatterbox, siomewhat given to quarreling. If in April, inconsistent, not intelligent, intelli-gent, but likely to be good-looking. If in May, handsome and likely to be happy. If in June, impetuous, will marry early and be frivolous. If in July, passably handsome, but with a sulky temper. If in August, amiable and practical, and likely to marry rich. If in September, discreet, affable and much liked. If in Octobor. pretty and coquettish, and likely to be unhappy. If in November, liberal, kind, of a mild disposition. If in December, well-proportioned, fond of novelty and extravagant. THE ATTRACTIVE WOMAN. A clever woman, provided she be not sarcastic 'and too fully alive to a sense cf her own Importance, ist generally. an attractive one. Men may be charmed for a time by a pretty face, but they soon tire of mere prettiness. Nor does it follow that all women of good sense and sharp intellect are necessarily neces-sarily jjlain. Bright thoughts enliven the most ordinary or-dinary face, until the reflection of the mind shining out in all its radiance makes one forget that the features are not pure Grecian and leads one to believe that such a woman is in reality a good beauty. The vivacious creature of varying moods and quaint fancies is the one that charms. A man forgets the type of beauty she may or may not possess. pos-sess. si" interested does he become in the pleasing study of a mind that renders ren-ders her face ever winning, irresistible irresisti-ble and pleasing. b---ause, like the surface sur-face of a lake, there comes a change with even" varying emotion. The would-be attractive woman should cultivate cul-tivate the mind, for grace of soul and education of spirit count for more than limpid eyes, a rosebud mouth and a dimpled chin. She should be ever teachable, for there is not one iota of lovableness in the man or woman who thinks he or she knows it all. Sardines on Toast. Allow two large, firm sardines for each person, lay in a double broiler and cook for two minutes on each side: lay side by side on dry toast and pour maitre d'hotel butter over, serving to each a carpel of lemon. A Quick Desert. Dainty tarte are made by lining patty pat-ty pans with good paste, and baking; then put a spoonful of orange marmalade marma-lade in each, cover with meringue and set in the oven to color. j THE SISTEE.S' CHOICE. fr'nr tii.-' Iptorrnountaiii C,Hir.!:c.) Down by tii-- :-ca. in a moi-scian .ieil. Wh(.rn the wavts pi-ivtuiiv ro and KM; AVher- the harsh-st sound that disturbed th air. Was th m How-ton. 1 hell tint called to prayer The iniimtfn of each c-istle coltaife or tower. As softly stole on the evening Ik ar. Two sisters sat twar an jld ndned '-Had" That look-.-.i as if it fain would tall. I Hut h-'.ti-d r, crush the ivy vine j Who:--;; ter:drils round it.-; nilarw twin". I "And what lif is thy choice'.'" th younger said. As sho t..Msdngly tossed her mischievous I head. j "Or if thou wilt listen. I'll tell th'-e mine: ! Then Kladiy I'd hear what thou j-ay'st U j thine. j I kr Wfi:. or- niv fa;'.;er oied I I'-" said I should !. a n.,h-r,an's hr'd. j And live as my ancestor lid of old. I When It-dv's sons with I rave :r, boM I My dwelling should a "Marhlp Ilpll." I Where tho richest if art. adorned each j wall. I And tho best musicians that mnvn on ! en rtli. 1 Should nn!n it a scei;o of perpetual mirth. My food ho tho rarest from garden or field. That the land of the olive and nam could yield. Ami whoever would he a. ;n:fst of min Must haw- proved di -cent from some no. hie line. My dominion would reach from the farthest farth-est pans. And my proud-st title b 'Queen of Hearts.' I Oh. if or.iy this; future were give:; to me. j Xot s-o happy a mortal o, t.irth would ; ho!" ; Thfn th older sister Lowed her head. ! And in gti-itlo tor-s r.. tiio younger said: "A-t weaith and title and rank b" thin-", ' I J 1 -1 a quiet convent home is mine. I Wherei sancutication and virtue f'v.ell With tint 7" ace of Piind' we love 0 well. I A hi.use .f f)rier to rod I'd rt:i-. Where mar.y mi.s'nt gath. r liis 11 ."me to I r.r-isc. i AH I'd wish in return' wouid be spiritual health, And on you I'd bestow n:v enormous w.aith. Tho joys you covet 'twill IvVp procure. But. darling sister, will they endure?" "Oft at tho altar I'd kneel and pray That your happiness be as teal as you say. That my cherished sifter's ;.'.aci,l brow May bo ever as free from "are ;is now. And my only earthly bun is would he ! Th'i lovo, the protection. I ov to t:iee. j 1 should fearlessly tread on thy iic ids of vr. r, I And hind for the wounded each blcdins; I scar. Or encourage repentance in each poor I hoart. Kre the soul for Eternity should depart. And if perhaps a misgui eil hall My soul from the t;;here of its labors ! should call. ! Then pray for the soul that shall have I gone forth That it ho e'en a vassal in God's great court. i And know how transient ar? things of car'!-. Tt? homage and 'Marblo H. ills' of mirth. They flash for the moment in gorgeous array. Then crumble and turn to original clay. I And of all the follies that rule the earth. I Which in more absurd than tho cialms of birt-.r For should we retrace to the firsr of men All claims of birth were equal thfn." 1 c. m. otrr TINGS. Salt Lake City, Utah. |