43
DAINTY PORCH WORK IN FASHION'S REALM
Idle Moments , Can Be Turned Into Profitable Stitchery
Without Tiring the Worker
THE STODGY GGREG03TAX POBTLAXD, AUGUST 6, 1905.
IKE the busy bee. ,the wise grl Is
I she who Improves the shining hours
- of Summer. During the out-of-town
vacation, whether it is long: or short,
there are many Idle' moments on the
veranda which may be turned to Fall
and Winter account. While lounging In
hammock or in rustic chairs, listening
or talking lazily, the bag or basket with
the piece of pick-up-work should always
be alongside. Occupation for thejhands
is subtly soothing to the nerves, and
to do a little feminine work of some sort
or other should be the pride and pleasure
of every woman.
Of all the employments which present
themselves as suited to porch and splazza
idlings, knitting and crochet are first.
A number of mast valuable garments now
come in hand knitting, and since most
of these arc expensive, nine girls out of
ten are denied the comfort of them. The
hand-made sweater, which is worn all
Summer at some resorts, and which soon
will be Indispensable, is of supreme im
portance, as well as the little Shotland
wool spencer which, with the first cool
weather, is ' worn Instead of the corset
cover. Hand-knitted knickerbockers are
also invaluable for later use. and these
likewise may be made of unllned flannel
with the yoke and leg bands of silk
crochet, run with elastic to keep thom
close.
Knitted sweators which present stylish
aspects, and arc most comfortable to the
body, arc of double, chinchilla wool. "'In
simple knitting stitch, loosely done.
More complicated stitches show among
the newest styles, honeycomb, braid, and
check patterns, the sweaters in these
having the high rolling collars, or V-neck
finish.
There is no doubt that the vogue of
the sweator Is to be continued indefinite
ly, for no more useful and comfortable
garment exists. The new Fall and Win
ter ones are likely to take more elegant
forms than have yot been shown and
contrasting stripes and chocks are pre
dicted. If the porch girl feels herself
unequal to the task of an ontirc hand
knitted one. let her attempt a sloeveloss
vest, which Is almost as useful.
For those who do not understand knit
ting at aJl,and who have no wish to ac
quire the old-fashioned art, the round
crochet shawl makes an admirable piece
of plck-up-work, which may come In as
a birthday or Christmas present for
some friend or relative. The prettiest of
these shawls arc of ice wool, very loosely
crocheted. The widening is done at four
points of the round. which brings the
THE SUNDAY OREGONIAN'S SPECIALLY
SELECTED FICTION
iCopyricbt. 1S05. by S. S. MoClure Co.)
PARADISE is the grimly satirical
name of a desert station of tho E.,
P. & E. Railway. A strong spring
pushes out of the earth in Che bottom
of a gulch, and the outburstlng waters
go trickling down to extinction over
the rocky bed. The crisp hot air drinks
of the moisture so thirstily, the sand
sucks it up with such greed that, less
than a mile bolow Its source, the faint
trickle ends In a deep and silent pool,
from whjcb there Js no outflow.
Upon that liquid foundation the town
of Paradise was built, and, doubtless,
in that drought-stricken land, more
than one wanderer, coming out of the
hell of the desert upon that llfe-glv-iiig
stream, passing the moist fluid
over a cracked and thirsty tongue, had
found 'the name appropriate and even
significant.
From the railroad a long pipe trailed
over the ground to the dusty bank,
where it plunged beneath the source
of the pool. A pump, standing In a
flimsy board house on the right of way,
olanked endlessly, and drew out the
water to an overhead tank. Locomo
tives .halted wearily under the mov
able spout, and tenders were supplied
for the dry miles on either side.
The railroad wound away to the west,
60 'miles to Washburn Junction, and
wandered deviously through the north
western cattle ranges to a desolate ter
minus at Ward. From Ward a stage
ran to Altamont, 170 miles away.
Freighters followed the stage road
down the Sweetwater to Bitter Creek
Canon, up its defiles to where the
Stinking Fork forced an entrance from
the plains, across the divide to Llttlo
Bear River, and down tho river to the
foothills that had to be climbed to
high-seated Altamont, on the borders
of the dosert It was a road with
plenty of water of an infinite variety
bad, worse and worst but the way
was an unceasing up and down, weari
some and trying, and loadiM wagons
took six days to the trip, atjd some
times more.
Therefore John Dubbs, otherwise known
as Desert Jack, still held to the desert
trail. Others thought it dangerous, and
expressed themselves profanely over his
folly.
Jim Brown, better known in the
edges. of the Escondido as Shlf'less Jim,
came out of the mountains of East
Tennessee, and, having for many years
wandered about the world, became at
last a citizen of Paradise. Water was
free and of good quality: the sand was
soft and warm, and under the weight
of the body and without exertion, hol
lowed Itself out. making a most ac
commodating bed; the sky, painted
with stars, was a saudy covering; a
little labor provided a sufficiency of
whisky for a man who was not even
ambitious of continual drunkenness;
and the hospitality of the townspeople
rendered starvation reasonably improb
able. So Jim concluded that on this earth
he would find no other place so deserv
ing of Its name, and, much to the disgust
of the inhabitants, announced his inten
tion of making it his home. There he
dwelt year after year.
In the course of time word was taken
to the East Tennessee mountains how Jim
Brown had settled In Paradise, and the
report had It that he was even rich, a
respected citizen of that new great em
pire of the- Southwest. An old and lonely
wldow, the energetic mother of that de
generate son, living a life of solitude in
a moist and shady cove at the foot of a
big knob, bent with toll, trembling with
the palsy of age, heard the pleasant news
of her son, and her heart felt young again,
and she was porely hungered for a sight
of the face of her only child.
The little farm. that lay in the cove, its
lew stock and all its humble furnishings
were sold and the widow made her way
to Paradise to end her days In the sun
shine of her boy's face, to spend the gold
en sunset of life In an earthly Eden.
But before she arrived an Indignant
outburst, caused by the unparalleled
worthlessness of Shlf'less Jim, had led to
his reluctant departure from Paradise,
and he had gone to Altamont. And as the
train went puffing on its way and left
her behind, surrounded by dingy, stolid
face?., wherein were deep-set, unrespon
sive eyes. It seemed to her like- the break
ing of the last tie that had held her to
the world she had known; She gasped
pattern of a square all through the
stitches In the shells, increasing till the
border Is quite a frill. Sunrise "borders
are charming effects with these shawls,
a delicate stripjng being made with a
combination of ''pale pink, lemon, blue
and white. The center of the sunrise
shawl is also white. The same pretty
and simple shawls in all black, gray, vio
let and white and black are used by
elderly wearers.
The Shetland wool spencers are best
when knitted, for knitting keeps the
shape in washing better than crochet.
and choked, and a tear slipped out and
.ran down her wrinkled cheok. But she
was a brave old woman, and she gulped
down her sorrow, and held herself steady,
save for the shaking of her palsied head,
as she asked of one of those nearest her,
"Ain't there any of you'uns as knows my
boy an kin tell me whore he is?"
It was an old, old question in Paradise.
"What's his name?" inquired Whisky
Jake, whom she had addressed, taking off
his wide-brimmed hat and standing be
fore the widow, his head gallantly bared
to that Intense and burning sun.
Whisky was a Bturdy old conservative,
who kopt a record of his own and -private
dead by cutting notches In the stock of
his gun, a method of keeping books with
the .grave which has fallen Into disrepute.
"Why, I'm shorely 'sprlsed at myself."
: allowed the widow politely, her head bob-
i bing about with mingled palsy and exclte
' ment. "I'm shorely a-losln of my wits.
' It's Jim Brown as I'm a-lookln' .for, little
j Jim as is my boy, an a good un, too, If
' I do say it. as hadn't orter."
i "Yes'm. yes'm," answered Jake; "I
j don't Just call to mind any sech around
!' here. I can't think as I knowed- him."
Suddenly his face brightened, he
fairly beamed, upon the old woman and
began speaking rapidly, as if he feared
some one else would be ahead of him
with tne information.
'Oh, I remember now, mum," he
said. "I did hear as how his name was
Jim Brown." Then he turneJ to the lit
tle crowd, so that all could share his
triumph. "It's Shir it's Shir" Tho
unfortunate nickname stuck In his
throat; inwardly he cursed himself for
his awkwardness; the rim of his hat
revolved like a wheel between his fin
gers; he shuffled his feet In the dust
of tne road and the sweat stood out
on his foreheau In beady drops.
All Paradise came to his rescue, and
without a dissenting voice lied Itself
Into tho lowest depths of purgatory.
"Why, it's Jim Brown, the lady's
askln' after," declared Three Spot. "It's
old Jim, as we was all so proud of. one
of tho distinguished citizens of Para
dise, Shirty Jim, the Mexicans called
him, 'cause that means he don't go
back on a friend, not never. Why,
Whisky, we're plum ashamed of ye.
Miss' Brown, we're shorely proud to
f know Jim's mother."
The strain was over, and the old
woman was no longer ashamed to cry.
Her rounded shoulders, curving down
upon her sunken chest, rose and fellas
she sobbed.
Then Paradise did Itself proud. In
triumphant procession, Mrs. Brown in
the centor, tho townsmen streamed to
the hotel. The best room was had, the
belongings of the unfortunate occu
pant were hustled out without cere
mony, and the widow was installed.
All afternoon men tramped up and
down the stairs and along the wooden
veranda, thronging the approaches and
entering the presence with a courte
ous, deprecatory gravity. One after
another they listened with sympathetic
attention to wonderful anecdotes of the
childhood of Shiftless" Jim, and one af
ter another they lied unblushingly,
telling how his maturer days were the
fitting climax of tho promise of his
youth. There were, tales of valor,
stories of munificence, of a kindness
that was royal in Its beneficence, sup
plying the wants of the unfortunate
wltha kingly disregard of his own
needs, traditions of financial success,
anecdotes illustrating the shrewdness
and wit of the widow's son, all poured
out with an enthusiasm that made the
old woman's eyes snap and sparkle and
quite took away her breath with . a
pride.
She became at home with those out
casts. She took Throe Spot Charlie to
her motherly heart, and her soul went
out to Cherokee Kate, whose occupa
tion was nameless, and to Mrs. O'Crool.
who kept the hotel and did occasional
washing for the rest of the town.
These, she believed and declared.' were
true ladles and gentlemen. She de
clared Whisky Jake was a born noble
man, which he was not and . never
claimed to be, being the soul of hu
mility when not crossed. She took
those lost ones of Paradise under her
wing, and loved them as she had not
thought she could ever love any one
but her boy Jim.
And f us it was that when John
Dubbs came In that night from Alta
mont, .Paradise held a consultation In
the shed room of the dance hall, and
all its leading citizens were present.
It was late, and Mrs. Brown, weary but
Xiflppy. uiis aslcfip.Jtaxtb beat team, sil
But they may be fashioned likewise with
a large wooden crochet needle. In
which case the grayish wools, which
keep clean longer, are better than white.
These little corset covers are as light
as a feather and are almost as open as
lace. They are largely used by English
women Instead of heavier flannols, and
many long-headed travelers returning
from London bring back a stock of them.
As yet the hand-knitted Shetland spencer
Js dear in this country. !-50 being asked
for the style which may be bought In
London for three shillings and sixpence.
The Devotion, of John Dubbs
the hotel, a proud smile Hipon her ,face,
dreaming of her boy.
"It'll never do in the world," declared
Three Spot. "Some galoot'll be sure to
tell her, and then where'll you bo?"
"I'm sure I don't know whatever to
do," moaned Whisky. . ' .
"Why don't you send her on to Alta
mont?" suggested John Dubbs.
"I don't mean It no ways invidious.
Jack," said Three Spot, "but of all tho
d d fool ideas that I ever heard of,
that's the d dest Send her on thero
and let her see what kind of a d d
skunk that boy of hers reely Is? 1
reckon not."
"I'm clean bewildered at you. Three
Spot," declared Kate tartly. "You boen
a-wear'n' britches as long as you have,
an not know nothln about wlmroen
yet. Why, It's plain "scandalous, an
nothln' else."
"What d'you mean, KateT Inquired
Three Spot meekly.
"That old womanMl Just think that
boy of her'n Is an angel ot light, an
she'll think we've been mean an' Jeal
ous, an haven't said half enough good
'things about him. She ain't a-goln'
back on him, an -hlra her boy. Not
much."
And It was so ordered, but when John
Dubbs offered to take her across the
desert In his freight wagon there was
much opposition. Therefore, it was
duly moved and seconded and unanimous
ly resolved that she go by way of
Ward. A subscription was taken up
and a sum raised sufficient to defray
her .expenses.
Now In that mass meeting Kate was
able to sway the Test at her will, but
when Mrs. Brown, longing to reach
that son of hers who had so Justified
her motherly pride, came to be In op
position, then Greek met Greek.
"There's Mr. Dubbs." Desert Jack
blushed at the prefix. "There's Mr.
Dubbs," the widow urged; "he's crossed
the desert more'n once a week for
years. Why can't I do It once In a
whole IifeT
"But. Miss' Brown," Three Spot ob
jected, "it ain't reckoned safe."
"It don't seem noways skecry when
Mr. Dubbs he's been a'doln' of. it this
long an ain't got hurt pone.'
"It don't take much longer tc
longer to go around
by Ward."
"Gentlemen, It's my boy, and I'm goln
to see, and I'm a-golng the shortest way."
. The obstinacy of a woman must have
Its own way. Paradise made preparation
as for an army departing from Its base
of supplies, but Jack made himself hoard,
declaring he couldn't carry all they were
fixing not if he dropped his whole load.
He was willing to accept a bottle of
whisky that might come in handy, and,
as or Mrs. Brown, she could have an
extra keg of water, not being used to
going do, but the balance of the plunder
must Just stay where It -was.
They started so early In tho morning
that the first brightening of the eastern
sky was barely perceptible. Mrs. Brown
sat In the driver's seat, beside John
Dubbs. Her eyes snapped and sparkled
vivaciously her wrinkled face beamed
with pleasure. .She looked first at the
driver, then out "ver the desert. She
chatted incessantly. John, silent with the
dumbness that possesses all who live in
vast and empty spaces, listened answer
ing briefly, but. his heart warmed toward
that Indomitable old woman.
He dropped into a reverie, and she, not
ing his silence, turned toward him and
for a moment ceased talking, observing
him carefully in the wan light
"I'm afeerd you'uns ain't a-feelln' well,"
she observed with tender solicitude.
"Oh, -I'm all right," asserted John, rous
ing himself. "Pra. as peert an fresh as
kin be."
But the woman doubted. "If you'uns
stomach gits to hurtlnV she said, "an
that's what mostly hurts a man. If
you'uns '11 let me know, I kin fix up a
tea as'U sot you up In a mlnlt, I've got
the alrbs right here In my sack."
"I'm 'all right," persisted John. "It's
Jest that I like to hear you a-talkin. It
makes me think how I used to set an'
listen at home, when mother'd talk to
me."
They grew very companionable, those
two. In the midst of that waterless soli
tude. "I never seed so good a boy as that Jim
of mine." prattled the old woman.
"I right frequent reckoned as he'd been
an amazln' good boy," John answered, ly
ing without a blush.
"I'm curls to know what made him
change off an go to Altamont, an him
so much thought of in Paradise."
"Well, mum," said John. wih ready In
Yil22 'XetjMDl hjia -ayA5, tow hi
More desirable ones are 10 and six
shillings, and these are knitted to fit the
figure perfectly, with a narrow hip flounce
to hold them down and wash ribbons
drawing In , the waist and neck. Worn
over the daintiest underwear, they will
provide all the Winter warmth needed
by the usual smart woman, for heavy un
derclothing, with Its attendant bulklness,
has come to be a thing of the past.
In the way of small accessories, any
number of little things' can be made upon
the Summer porch which will contribute
financial Interests over there needed look
in' after closcr'n he could do It from
Paradise. Them pesky mines Is all fired
onsartln. an a.. feller's to his neck In
wealth on day, an' the next he's busted
flat."
The driver was hedging against the fu
ture. And so It went on, one He calling
for another, and the driver cheerfully
answering each demand. He set his Jaws
together hard, beneath his breath he
swore that he would roast In everlasting
fire before he would give pain to that old
woman, who looked after him as if she
had been his own mother.
A norther blew up In the afternoon of
the second day. First the swelter of heat
became stifling. The distant purple slopes
swam upon the undulating waves of a
pallid haze. Sand pillars, crooked as a
broken stick, moved about, gyrating awk
wardly, going from place to place. Sweat
ran down the bellies of the horses, and
between their thighs and under each strap
and band of the harness a lather of
dirty foam appeared.
"I'm skcered of all this yere,", suddenly
ejaculated Mrs. Brown, starting up as if
she had waked out of a sleep.
"'Taln't nothing but a little, old, pesky
storm a-comln" up," John reassured her
cheerfully, though the sternness of his
eyes belied the smile upon his Hps.
"I hope I ain't brung you'uns no bad
luck," she said regretfully. '
"You couldn't bring no one any bad
luck." replied tho driver affectionately.
"I wish 1 had you around all the time,
an then I'd have good luck."
The widow blushed with pleasure. "I'd
Just love to stop with you'uns," she be
gan timidly, blushing more. furiously than
ever.
"You wouldn't love to stay a bit more'n
I'd love to have you," John asserted
warmly. . .,
"But, law sakes, there's Jim an him my
own boy." said she, covered with confu
sion, quaking at her own boldness. "I
reckon he'll want me, an' I don't know
as you'uns keer so mighty much, any
how." The haze rose thicker and thicker, until
It grew to be a great opaque wall, divid
ing the world into two parts. . A herd of
antelope raced by, going south; but, ex
cept for this, the desert was empty, and
its silence was like something material,
vast and oppressive. Then with a great
rush and howl the wind came down upon
them, bursting tumultuously out of the
north. The sand blew against them, cut
ting spitefully into the skin, filling their
eyes with dust and grit, piling loftily
above them In midair, until it shut out
the light of the sun. and the desert was
black as If it had been night
John ,had turned his horses until they
stood with their heads away from tho
blast He quickly stowed Mrs. Brown
In tho cavernous depths that lay beneath
tho wagon sheet, and busied himself In
tying down the loose ends that flapped
and beat about so madly In the rushing
winds. Then, all having been made se
cure, he crawled In at the mouth of tho
canvas-covered cavern and gave cheer
to the widow. He talked of the storm.
bawUng at the top of his voice, striving
to make himself heard above the resound
ing, elemental uproar. But, most of all?
he talked to soothe and cheer a withered
old woman, who found cause for secret
alarm In the mysterious, unnatural course
of a rainless tempest so dark and threat
ening as that; who was frightened, In
that lonesome place by the mad howling
of the wind as It rushed along so gustily;
who found -.a- source of fear In the ever
lasting beating of the sand as It flew
southward, storm-borne. In the dust-dry,
windy strife, when Nature denied the re
lief of rain to the tortured and convulsed
elements. It was nothing at all, John
said; a nothing, not even a trifle; a! thing
of naturar and everyday occurrence to
which -ho would have given not a single
thought save for the annoyance It oc
casioned to this lady in his charge.
For threo days the wind blew Incessant
ly, tearing down great dunes of sand and
building them anew in other places; fill
ing up the dim, desert trail which, was
not to be opened up again, covering the
old. accustomed springs and the clay
tanks, where bitter wator gathered scan
tily in pools and lay from rain to rain,
burying the moist draws with their coarse
grasses which the half-starved horses ate
so greedily.
During those long three days, which
seemed as If they would never end, John
waited on the widow. When she was dry
he put water to her Hps, drawn lavishly
as If from an unfailing source. When she
grew, hungry the man had a positive
genius for providing food. If she became
dull with the long inaction, he had this
much to the comfort and prettiness of
Fall toilets. The last word can never be
said on the subject of stocks and turn
over collars, for there la always some
new kink or other in these Indispensable
articles, and the least fragment of ma
terial will make them. Hardanger and
Bulgarian embroidery, done In Turkey red
.and blue are modish stltcherles for scrim
turnovers, whose ribbon stocks are blue,
red or black. Blouses worked In red
Bulgarian embroideries are also very
smart, and the coarse cream cottons upon
which the needlework Ik done are called
and that to tell, stories of desperate bat
tics, of wild adventures among Indians
and desperadoes, descriptions of strange
Places that he had visited, reminiscences
of remarkable men he had known; and
if she wearied of the grave he developed
a talent for the humorous and kept her
amused. Most of all he was a good list
ener, and could provoke conversation.
When she was sleepy he sat motionless
and silent, statuesque as an Indian fol
lowing tin war trail. He divined her
wants as If by Instinct, and supplied
them without waiting to have them made
known. The widow declared she was
growing fat and lazy.
Late the third day John's voice failed
him. his throat was that choked up with
rand he could not speak above a whisper,
so he declared. He was very languide.
moving weakly, as If oppressed by Illness.'
Light had measurably returned to the
desert world, and the widow, looking upon
his face, was shocked to find It so worn
and haggard.
"Why, Mr. Dubbs," she exclalmod,
"whatever Is the matter?"
"There ain't nothln the matter," de
clared John, smiling at her faintly.
"Yes, there is," the widow asserted,
"an' I want to know what It Is."
John laughed heartily at the Idea,
and said he was fit as a fiddle, all but
his voice, and he had seen some people
that would have been better off If
they hall been dumb.
"But there Is something the matter
with you'uns, John Dubbs," persisted
the widow, "an I've Jest got to know
what It Is."
Then John surrendered uncondition
ally. "Well," he said, looking very
much downcast and embarrassed. "I
don't want to pester you none with my
matter?, but I .reckon as how you've
done seen it. an It can't be helped. The
fact Is, all this waltln loses me a whole
lot of money, an I'm that poor It's kept
me awake a whole lot'
"You poor boy," tho old woman
pitied him openly. "It's Jest too bad.
But Jim he'll make It up to you. so
you'uns shan't lose nothln. Now, don't
you'uns pester yourself no more what
ever, for Jim he'll make It up."
"Yes. shore," answered John, still
smiling; "I declare I'm plnm foolish
that I didn't think of It. for Jim he's
Jest that sort that'll never think noth
ln' of payln" me extry."
"Now, don't you worry for Jim he'll
make It up." the old woman repeated.
When the horses were hitched in,
they were gaunt and lean, with the
stomachs of greyhounds, and then Mrs.
Brown first learned that they must
pull the wagon to water before they
could drink. The kegs held little
enough for two humans, so John
Dubbs declared. And here it was her
faith In Desert Jack received its first
rude shock.
"I declare we might divide with
them there poor critters, an then
they'll have little enough," she cried
hotly.
But John Dubbs, instead of answer
ing her. sat on his scat laughing until
the tears ran down his eyes; laughing
and holding bis sides until he doubled
over, convulsed.
"Here tve'vo et an'- drunk, an drunk
an ot, an filled our bellies until
they're nigh onto bustln, an' them
there poor horse critters ain't had
nothln' at alL"
John Dubbs, slapped his hand upon
his knee and hawhawed out loud, but
said never a word.
"I declare to gracious," snapped the
widow, "men's poor ornery critters as
I've allers knowed, but you'uns Is
about the devllishest of the lot as I've
ever seed."
Tnat night thoy made a dry camp,
and Mrs. Brown was so affected by the
suffering- of tho horses she could not
eat but went supperless to bed.
Neither did ahe .entirely recover her
regard for the driver, even refusing
water when he first offered It, but later
taking the cup from his hand and say
ing: very solemnly: "I misdoubt if I
ain't Judged you'uns too harshly.
We're sinners, tho whole kit an bllln
of us, but we're what God made us,
an' I don't reckon He meant we should
be hard on what He made. A man
must be looked at up one side side an
down the other, an' there' likely to
be a heap of- good In the meanest he
critter on earth. I reckon when a
man gits thirsty as you'uns has been
he Jest can't stand It to give up water
as he'll maybe need for himself after
on the other side "mummy cottons." The
soft fabrics, with their knotted weavings,
certainly suggest the Egyptian wrappings
for the dead, but In this age of over
sophistication this very roughness Is at
tractive. The blouses, some of which fol
low the Bulgarian peasant shirt form, are
shown as yet only in imported shape, but i
stampers' are copying the designs; for j
Winter use. With a plain black skirt of
silk or cloth, orie of these waists evolves
a smnrt morning toilet for September.
The bargain season having arrived,
economies are suggested as to the ways
and means of using up remnants of plain
and fancy silk, soiled turn-overs, odd
colored handkerchiefs, etc. ' The turn
overs, In every variety of embroidery,
some of It hand-done, are going for a
song, though the mass of them are so
black with handling that all but the so
phisticated pass them by without con
sideration. Experienced buyers, knowing
the earmarks of the good thing, find
sometimes in the 10-cent tray embroi
dered linen turnovers In attractive forms,
reduced from SO and 75- cents. The first
washing removes the grime, and the fall
In price permits the lavish outlay which
regular daintiness requires. The colored
handkerchiefs are turned Into the same
species of neck fixings, the more finely
tinted moucbolrs making lovely collars.
For the odd stock which they frequently
accompany, silk cut on the bias or rlb
mon may be employed. A made-up ad
Justed stock Is more serviceable than one
which needs to be tied every time It is
worn, and with the many wired forms
which aro sold so cheaply, such neck fix
ings can be fashioned easily. For stiffen
ing the neck piece of the ribbon sort that
tle.jthere are new featherboncs in oblong
slide shape that neither Jnjure nor annoy
the throat. A yard and a half lensth
permits a smart little bow, with the ends
hemmed and may be a narrower tuck or
two across. Five Inches Is the right width
for the ribbon or bias silk stock, which Is
adjusted with tying, and after such a
neck fixing has been worn it should al
ways be carefully, smoothed out wllh the
fingers before putting away.
A smart bow stock is made of a neck
band of black satin ribbon and a kilted
bow of black mousaeline, a little scrim
collar with red stltcherles turning over
this.
A still less expensive stock for any
of these neck fixings can be made In
expensivelymay be fashioned from
scraps left from skirt linlns3, etc., and
for these have a stiffened gauze form,
which cover with a stlched bias of the
silk In correct nook-band height. For
the little bow or long trimmed end of
the front, us short pieces, hemmed with
stitching and tied In pretty ways.
The drawing shows a blue taffeta tie
made in this manner, the double bow and
plaited stole-end shaping an arrangement
very becoming to slim throats.
A length of silk suitable for a deep
petticoat flounce la an invaluable find
on the bargain counter. The best pet
By William D. Williams
a little, an I'm real sorry I said what
I did."
John looked down in the old woman'3
face, smiling and licking his Hps with
the tip of his tongue. He bent over and
whispered huskily: -"I'm mighty glad you
ain't clean gone back on me. Mies Brown.
I declare I don't know any one as I
think so much of, an' I want you to think
a whole lot of me, too."
"Thlnk3 a heap of me, does he?" said
the widow to herself. "Thinks a whole
lot ot me. Don't look much like It. an
Lhim a-laughln at me, the same as he did.
But I don't know. A man's a queer crit
ter, take him at his best, an I don't
know." She sat and mused, but she was
a wise old woman, wherefore she said
nothing more to John Dubbs.
The road had disappeared; not a mark
of wheel or a track of horse did they see
on the face of the desert. But this was
no cause of disquietude, so said the driver,
who surely ought to know; it was a
common event, he said, and the desert
wayfarer was expected to know the de
tails of the land, the location of the
springs and the places where the tanks
lay hidden In the hollows between the
slopes quite as .well as If they were
marked off on the palm of his hand. For
this reason, he explained, he drove with
unusual care, searching the earth with
seeking eyes, which thus became blood
shot and were sunken In his head until
they gleamed like ooals of fire In the
black throat of a cave.
One day John asked Mrs. Brown to
drink sparingly. He had only a few
hours before been telling how much less
than they thought was the amount of
water consumed by the drinking of thirs
ty people, so that the vessels that held
the lives of persons shipwrecked upon the
ocean and the stores of those who were
In desert places lasted surprisingly and
seemed to be renewed as if It were by a
miracle. And now the request was halt
ingly made, the man's embarrassment
showing guilt as plainly as If he had been
detected in a petty theft. The widow
was surprised and shocked, but. hiding
her emotion, she promised obedience. That
night In her silent prayer to God she
asked to be kept from unjust suspicion
of the driver, who "was to her so like a
son. But for all her efforts, she believed
John had begun to grudge her the water
she drank, and she was afraid.
The next day the driver's mind began
to wander, and he talked In a husky whis
per, foolishly, about springs that did not
exist, and water holes and tanks that
were mere Imaginations of the brain. Tho
old woman easily called him back from his
dreams, which, he explained, were caused
by the intense heat, aggravated by a fool
ish habit he had acquired, being so much
alone, of dozing in the daytime and talk
ing aloud to himself. He was also much
troubled with an obstinate bleeding of
the Hps, so that ho was forover sucking
the blood Into his mouth and swallowing
it Because of thpse things the widow
was much distressed, but the driver still
pmiled and. showed eagerness to have her
talk to htm. and was so kind and atten
tive that she was reassured and her alarm
died out
It was on the day following that one
of the horses fell to the ground and re
fused to rise. Tho driver, who was sitting-
on the seat, a slack and dusty heap,
comatose nnd almost breathless, was
thrown forward by the sudden halting of
the wagon, until It was as much as the
widow could do to hold him in place.
When she shook him and called his name
he opened his eyes, stared around stupid
ly, either seeing nothing or else seeing
what did not exist, and whispered hoarse
ly In a voice which he tried to make
loud and rollicking, "Well, here we are
at last, an I'd d d glad. Take out the
horses, boys, an I'll Jest go to sleep a
mlnlt" Then he fell back upon he seat
and elept.
The widow shook him by the arm. but
he made no response. She shouted In his
ear and shook him soundly, yet still he
did not wake. Then, as she pushed him
back and forth, his head slipped off the
scat and fell down, hanging limply by the
neck, the lower Jaw dropped, andf his
mouth was open. The old woman
screamed with horror and pity. Tho
man's mouth was black throughout and
dry as dust, his tongue was black and
swollen, and little bloody streaks zig
zagged across it Irregularly.
The widow took the cup and, climbing
over the wagon to the water keg, opened
the faucet A few drops ran out slowly
and then stopped. She lifted the can
teens, but they were empty. She crawled
back to the seat, and, lifting the driver's
head, placed it in her lap and dripped
the water between his Hps. He sucked at
It ereedllK mouthed for more, and began
ticoats shown nowadays hnve this
deep bottom trimming, which gets the
brunt of the wear, buttoned on. tnat
It may be taken off for cleaning; and
mending-. The separate trimmings are
also supplied for uppers In fine Jersey
woven wool and soft gloria, both of
which materials are more conducive
to fashionable slimness than silk.
Upon the swing: and dash of a petti
coat flounce and on the careful fit of
the upper portion of the skirt mueh de
pends. So these separate flounces aro
made most carefully, with the deep
dust frill of the completed skirt, and
all the cOrdings and kittle additional
frills which give solidity and furbelowt
Three yards make an elaborate one.
and this is quite a usual remnant
length to bo found in many qualities
of plnin taffeta and handsomely pat
terned silk. An excellent model Is a
deep-shape flounce, edged with a- nar
rower bias frill, edged in turn with,
two or more narrow ons. The dust
flounce beneath has also a little frill
edge, the cordlngs and tuckings show
ing on both the foundation and trim
ming. The buttonholes are put In tho
flounco, the buttons upon the skirt
piece, and with patterned flounces and
plain uppers,, the trimming should be
deep enough not to show the Join wnen
the outer skirt is lifted.
Half a yard of fine white linen is a
treasure to pick up: for. embroidered
with mercerized floss and with edges
of Valenciennes, this can be turned into
chemisettes, cuff pieces, soft rolling:
collars, etc. A whole embroidered
linen blouse Is- also a rewarding piece
of work to have on hand, for one In,
a good style costs from $2 to $30
reody made. Three yards of linen, at
?I a yard. well worked in a good em
broidery design, and seamed with lin
en headings, will produce something'
to he kept forever When a hand-m-broidered
linen blouse wears at some
point, it is there renewed. For In
stance, a new back may be put In.
under arm pieces, new cuffs, etc. So
reinforcing some fine embroidery done
In Ireland under the tuition of the
nuns, a clever American girl has prac
tically worn out throe waists with it.
The original front of the blouse Is
still Intact, the design showing with
delicate openwork, slim bunches of
lilies-of-the-valley. exquisitely done.
To return to common earth, look out
for short lengths of silk garter elastic,
three-yard pieces of pretty border lactv,
Dresden ribbon, etc. The October
bride will soon bo on the carpet, and
there is no gift so pretty or charming
as fancy garters. Three-quarters of a
yard of plain elastic forms the founda
tions. Thp ribbon is then shirred over
this, tho lace flounces or kilted silk
frill beine put only at the bottom
edge. At the outside leg is placed a
ribbon bow. a satin rose or knot of
orange blossoms. MARY DEAN
to whisper. She bent her head and lis
tened, hearing the same foolish words of
springs that did not exist, of rivers and
lakes that were the unsubstantial crea
tions of his terrible longing, of water,
water, water, when there was no water.
"An me abusln of him like I did." sho
j said, "an him such a man as that, a-giv-;
In' of everything to me, an me not even
related. I wish I could tell him I know'
Tho second horse had laid down by Its
mate to die. The heat was a material,
palpable oppression. The purple slopes
were swaying up and down, afloat upon a a
swelling and sinking sea of haze. Afar-o??:'
the chalk hills shone ghastly white; Hko
tombstones. The widow., her head bob
bing about with the palsy of age. bare
headed, her thin hair, released from Its
fastenings, floating down her narrow,
sloping shoulders, held the drivers head
In her lap. and looked thin way and that
upon an empty and waterless land.
In Altamont, where the air was cool and
Icy waters of many snow-fed streams
went dashing down the mountain sides,
and pines and aspens grew upon the hills,
Shlf'less Jim went his shiftless way. un
disturbed by any longing for hotter things,
and. if he ever knew of his mothers
search and of the fruitless devntlen of
John Dubbs. he gave no outward sign.
WHERE KISSING IS NOT
How Different People Express En
denrment.
( Cleveland Leader.)
A caress, a kiss, a kindly touch are sup
posed to be signs of love everywhere,
while a frown expresses displeasure. A
study of the psychology of peoplo shows
that the kiss Is only one expression of
affection. Thero are places where kissing
Is unknown, this mode of expression b
Ing supplemented by caressing with the
hand, the nose, the tongue, clapping oC
hands and various embraces.
Western civilization holds the kiss as
the kindest expression of ondearment
Paolo Mantegazza. tho great Italian psy
chologist, says: "Fear, religion. Interest,
space and time may separate lovers, hut
the kiss they have exchanged will hold
them together." For all this Darwin as
sures us that kissing is unknown among
the Malays, the dwellers of the FrienJly
Isles, the Andamnns, Fuegians. the Tal
tlans. Papuans, Australians and the So
malia of Africa.
The Malays express their feelings of en
dearment by touching noses. They say
much, tenderness Is expressed by bringing
the no9es In contact. They believe It la
by the nose we breathe, and the bringing
of noses in contact has the same influ
ence on the soul. A traveler toW them
to kiss with their lips, but they said:
"No, no, the soul Is not in tho mouth "
The Andaman islanders also refuse to
hear of the Joys of kissing. They rub
noses occasionally, but Is customary for
friends to greet each other with the eye.
When a husband is away and returns
home, he shows his Joy by sitting wih
his arms about his wife's neck, and they
weep and howl as if a -great sorrow had
befallen them. Suddenly, by some unex
plainable reason, this grief turn to jy
The man then calls on his other rolatUes
and goes through a similar performance.
African husbands never kiss their wives.
They would consider this a too familiar
expression of devotion. A Mandigo wife
meeting her husband, who has just re
turned home, throws herself on the
ground as a token of greeting. In Loango
the women kneel, and as they rise they
clap their hands.
The Dahomlnns greet their husbands
with wonderful dignity; they prostrate
themselves, throw sand on their heads
and never think of rising until their hu?
bands make the command. The Tongtxns
are more strenuous in their expression;
they tear their hair, and even beat their
breasts.
But the New Zealandcrs prefer to be
lieve that the soul has Its nearest ap
prach to another soul through the nose.
After a long absence the husband gives
vent to his joy In tho tangl a bitter cry
ing and moaning spell, which transforms
Itself gradually Into a merry laugh. In
Polynesia, when a husband becomes de
monstrative, he strokes his wife's faco
wlth his hand or foot The Australian
holds his wlfa by the neck and pats her
on the back.
The word "wed" at first waa net canon! to
tho sense of marrying. To "wed" was to enter
Into a solemn pledge of any kind. Xeble and
warriors -were called wedded brethren wha
bound by oaths of amity and friendship.